Oh, god, to give it up, to be alone in his own head again!
“Give it to me!”
He wanted the demon gone so badly he could taste it, as strong as the taste of blood in his mouth.
Caliban lifted his head, met her wide burning eyes and said, “No.”
We are paladins. We do not deal with demons. Ever.
His heart ached in his chest. His demon gibbered in disgusting gratitude.
She smiled. The fingers slid up into his hair.
“Are you sure, shining one? It would please me…greatly…”
Her form was almost entirely human now, except for the great bone scaffolding rising from her brow. She was straddling his knees, and her skin was feverishly warm against his.
He almost laughed. Demons were not subtle creatures.
“Quitesure.”
The rune woman’s mouth covered his, her tongue flicking at his lips. Her breath smelled like burning hay. Caliban bore this as stoically as a martyr being tortured.
It wasn’t the first time. They threatened, they bargained, they seduced. He had always half-suspected that the reason the temple did not require celibacy of the Knight-Champions was so that they did not leap at what the demons so often offered.
“Give me your demon.”
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed. “No? Perhaps you would bargain with another…” Her thumbs swept across his eyelids, and when he opened them again, startled, it was Slate.
His stomach sank, but he gave no sign. You could never show weakness to demons, or they knew they had you.
His eyes must have flickered, though, because the antlered doe smiled with Slate’s mouth. It was not Slate’s smile, which relieved him greatly. Slate did not smile like that, and she had never been that beautiful.
“This shape is much in your mind, shining one. Your demon knows it. Would you giveheryour demon?”
“We could skip right to the threats, if you like,” said Caliban dryly.
“Not just yet, I think…” Her hands were on him again, slidingdown his chest and along his arms. If he had a tattoo in this place, he could not feel its teeth.
Ngah, said his demon worriedly.
You said it.
“You say no, but your body says yes…” purred the rune.
“Yes, well. My body’s an idiot.” He stared straight ahead and tried to remember a catechism. Any catechism.Dreaming God, who holds us all within his dreams…
Ngha, ha, kalikaliha…
There was an oddly familiar quality to the demon’s voice. If he hadn’t known better, he’d think that it was praying too.
“Give me the demon,” Slate’s voice breathed in his ear.
“Why do you want it?”
Her mouth was moving down his neck, but her voice was clear, which was proof enough that this was not real in any sense he understood. “Does it matter, shining one?”
