"Come on, little witch. You're only prolonging the inevitable. We're going to have you one way... or the other..."
***
There are some rules you don't break
when it comes to the supernatural.
1. Don't be an idiot.
2. Don't make deals with Demons...
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The Gambler
She hadn't crushed it. She hadn't even thought about it. The witch had lied about the idea crossing her mind. And as much as it warmed my one singular heart, my instincts told me to do what I could to get my other heart back. They told me not to fall victim to her innocent charm.
As it stood, she held my fate in her soft gentle hands. But I knew better than anyone that a touch could mean thousands of things.
Why I had let myself drop my guard, I couldn't say. Her hands must've put me under some sort of spell. I couldn't help myself from pressing into her.
I wanted to feel her. Badly. I was touch starved.
I've had my fair share of easy succubi in the Seventh. All of them were greedy little things hoping that it wouldn't be just a night of guilty fun. They fucked me like it would earn them a place at my side.
But this felt different. It was new— strange. In all my centuries of existence, everyone I had ever crossed paths with would have taken that opportunity to cross my name off their kill list. She had more reason than anyone to end me.
Coralynn's life in the mortal world was coming to a close. She'd soon find herself in the Seventh Circle, surrounded by creatures of night and terrors beyond her wildest imagination.
She could have stopped it.
So whatever possessed her to set this course made me pause. My untrusting nature set my nerves on edge.
Those nerves settled when I could see her through her small upper window. A small candle in hand.
I had never had my breath stop so quickly.
The little witch had dropped her guard too. Her palm was cupped around the tiny flame, protecting it from any air flow that could extinguish its light as she set it gently on the windowsill.
"I see you, little witch," I spoke softly into the cool night air.
The witch looked out from her window, hopeful eyes scanning the street below. She'd never see me. Not with my shadows cloaking my form.
But I saw her.
I watched her as she sat beside the candle, watching it flicker and melt away into nothing. She had sat there for hours watching the wick dwindle down. I could hear her soft bitter laugh when she realized that I was indeed not coming.
Her dark silhouette stood from the windowsill. Then into the darkness, she retreated.
I waited.
I waited till her heartbeat was slow and calm, till her mind was quiet from sleep.
Then I made my move.
I was silent as I moved through shadow, beneath the smallest of gaps between the front door and the porch. Regathering my form, I straightened my ruffled clothes to the best of my ability and slowly crept up the stairs.
