He shrugged one shoulder. “Consider it a freebie. So long as you ask for something else. Otherwise you’re wasting my time.”
“Why are you so interested in me? Don’t you have some women to occupy all this free time you seem to have? Some castle servants to tie up and shove wine bottles into?”
“They aren’t the same.” He chuckled. “Their flesh doesn’t turn pink, their pussies don’t throb and heat. They don’t bleed like you, they don’t scream like you…” He leaned forward and my heart stuttered at the flash of pointed teeth I caught though the mouth slit of his mask. “And they certainly don’t cream like you do.”
I had to swallow down a gasp at his words. They caused heat to bloom in my chest before sinking between my thighs.Holy hell.
“So, spit it out,” he demanded, his voice nearly a growl as he stood up from the gravestone, towering over me. “What do you want from me?”
If only we were under different, sexier circumstances. Then I would have asked him to take his clothes off.
Maybe he would anyway, depending on what he wanted for his payment.
“Shoes,” I said, gesturing to my feet. They looked worse than yesterday, and I was beginning to worry about infection. “Specifically, my boots.”
He tilted his head to the side, the jewels on his horns jangling. “Your boots?”
I nodded. “The ones that were taken from me. I want them back.”
“Your clothes—including your shoes—were torn off by the corrupted souls in the dungeon’s oubliette.”
A sharp, uncomfortable pang jabbed under my ribs and burrowed into my gut. “You know about that?”
Belial’s eyes darkened. “The whole castle knows about that, Rayven.”
“Oh…”
“Those boots are in the deepest, darkest part of this realm. You expect me to just fetch them?” he asked, considering me.
I panicked. There were a million other useful things I could ask for, like a giant pair of hedge clippers to bulldoze my way through this maze. However, judging by how the shrubs grew when and where they pleased, I doubted it would do much good.
Shoes were what I needed. Besides, I’d lost everything else that belonged to me. The least I could have were my goddamned boots. I didn’t know how much farther I could walk without them, if I could walk at all.
“Yes.”
The second of silence that followed was palpable, and my heart clenched hard.
“Fine.” I expected him to disappear in an explosion of blue magic, to leave and head for the oubliette to find them, but he didn’t move. Instead, he produced the boots with a flourish of his wrist, and dropped them on the ground before me. “There you are.”
I stared at them, unsure if I should laugh or cry at how simply he’d pulled them out of the air. Any form of thanks died in my throat as I reached for them in disbelief. They were well-worn, well-loved, and all mine.
“How did you do that?” My voice trailed off. “What else can you just pull out of thin air?”
“A lot of things.”
“You also cast that shield magic back at the blood oak,” I said, pursing my lips. “Seems like powerful magic for a guy who drives a boat. Where is your ferry, anyway? And how do you get it through the river?”
“Always with the questions.” He massaged one of his temples with two fingers. “I got your boots with magic. I cast that shield with magic. I steer my ferry through the narrow canals withmagic.”
With a scowl, I scrambled to untie the boots, pulling them on and lacing them up tight. I slowly stood, testing them out. My feet still ached, but I was too relieved to care. My determination renewed, I looked up to find Belial’s eyes glowing with intrigue.
“You could have asked for a new pair.” He folded his arms over his chest and nodded toward the worn shoes. “Why ask for your grubby old boots back?”
“Excuseyou, but these are Doc Martens, pal. I spent a lot of money on these.”
“Money you took from the dead?” Acid stained his voice.
“Maybe.”
