HIGH RANKING S*X DEMON (1)
995 Words
ABIGAIL.
I was going to do it.
My hands shook as I traced the chalk circle on my apartment floor, following the faded diagrams in my grandmother’s grimoire.
The book smelled like dust and secrets, its pages yellowed with age and covered in her spidery handwriting.
I’d always thought it was bullshit—witchcraft, demon summoning, all of it.
Just Grandma’s weirdness.
But I was desperate.
Six months ago, I’d had everything. A thriving career as an artist, a gallery show that sold out, critics calling me “the next big thing.”
And then Tate happened.
My ex-boyfriend, my former collaborator, the man I’d stupidly trusted with everything.
He’d stolen my work.
Presented my paintings as his own. When I tried to expose him, he’d turned it around—told everyone I was the thief, the crazy ex who couldn’t handle his success. His family had money, connections, lawyers. Within weeks, I was blacklisted. Galleries wouldn’t touch me.
My reputation was destroyed.
Now I was broke, alone, and watching my dreams die in real-time.
So yeah. Demon summoning it was.
“Okay, Grandma,” I muttered, striking a match. “If you were right about anything, please let it be this.”
I lit the black candles at each point of the pentagram, read the Latin words I didn’t understand, and pricked my finger to add three drops of blood to the center of the circle.
The instructions said to state my desire clearly.
“I want revenge,” I said, my voice stronger than I felt. “I want Tate to suffer for what he did to me. I want my career back, my reputation restored. I want—”
The candles flared, flames turning an impossible shade of crimson.
The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees in an instant. My breath misted in the suddenly frigid air.
“Well, well.” The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, smooth as silk and dark as sin. “It’s been decades since anyone summoned me properly. I was beginning to think your grandmother’s line had forgotten.”
He materialized in the center of my circle, and my brain short-circuited.
The demon—because there was no mistaking what he was—looked like every dark fantasy I’d ever had made flesh.
Tall, easily over six feet, with a build that suggested lethal strength wrapped in expensive tailoring.
His suit was immaculate, black on black, perfectly fitted to broad shoulders and a tapered waist.
But it was his face that made my mouth go dry.
Devastatingly handsome in a way that felt dangerous. Sharp cheekbones, full lips curved in an amused smirk, and eyes—God, his eyes. They shifted colors as I watched, from deep crimson to molten gold to pure black.
“You’re real,” I breathed.
“Very observant.” He stepped out of the circle as if it wasn’t there, moving with predatory grace. “I am Oberin. And you, little artist, have invoked a contract with a high-ranking lust demon. Do you have any idea what that means?”
I scrambled backward, suddenly aware of how stupid this had been. “I—the book said—”
“The book is correct.” He stalked closer, and I could feel heat radiating from him despite the cold air. “I can give you everything you asked for. Revenge on your pathetic ex. Success beyond your wildest dreams. But my price is not gold or jewels or your immortal soul.” His smile turned wicked. “My payment is much more… carnal.”
My heart pounded. “What do you mean?”
“One year,” Oberin said, crouching down to my eye level. Up close, he was even more unnervingly beautiful. “For one year, I have unrestricted access to your body. Whenever I want. Wherever I want. However I want. You will deny me nothing, refuse me nothing. In exchange, I will destroy your enemy and elevate you to heights you’ve only dreamed of.”
“That’s—you can’t be serious.”
“Deadly serious.” His hand reached out, fingers trailing along my jaw. His touch burned, but not painfully. “I can appear anywhere, anytime. In your bed at midnight. In your shower at dawn. At a gallery opening with a hundred people around us, and they won’t see a thing.” His thumb brushed my lower lip. “I will take my payment thoroughly and often. And by the end of our year together, you’ll be begging me to extend the contract.”
I should have said no.
Should have banished him, destroyed the circle, pretended this never happened.
But I was so angry, so desperate, so tired of being the victim.
And something about the way he looked at me—like I was a feast he’d been starving for—made heat pool low in my belly.
“What happens after the year?” I asked.
“You walk away free. Successful, wealthy, vindicated. I return to my realm, and we never see each other again.” He tilted his head. “Unless you choose otherwise.”
“And Tate?”
Azraeth’s smile turned vicious. “Will wish he’d never been born. I promise you, he will suffer beautifully for what he did.”
I took a shaky breath. This was insane. Absolutely insane.
But what did I have to lose?
“One year,” I said. “And you make him pay.”
“Deal.” Oberin’s hand shot out, gripping my wrist. Heat flared where he touched me, and I watched in shock as a mark appeared on my inner forearm—an intricate symbol that looked like a cross between a mark and a brand, glowing faintly crimson before fading to black.
“The contract is sealed,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a dark purr. “And now, Abigail Rivera, I’ll take my first payment.”
- Writer
