“Welcome home,” said the strange, quiet voice.
I scrambled to my feet and pulled a tiny dagger I had slipped into my boot that morning. It had been a gift from Will many years ago, to help me feel safe after a group of unruly boatmen followed me back to the Abbey. I knew it was no match for faerie magyk, but I didn’t care. Anger coursed through my veins remembering how brutal a blow the Devil had dealt Will’s face, and I almost hoped he would give me a reason to use the steel on him.
“Show your face, you monster!” I called, and immediately felt his presence behind me. When I whirled around, there he was, sprawled between a vaguely chair-shaped knot of tree roots.
“What do you imagine you’re going to do with that little needle?” he asked, unfolding his long legs and standing up. He had pushed his hood back, but still wore the feather-embroidered cloak and leafy mask.
“I will gut you if you touch me again,” I snarled, but the Devil only held out his hand. Tiny pinpricks of light shot along the snakeskin pattern on his arm, coalescing until a dozen golden sparks floated in his upturned palm. They drifted toward me, landing on my dagger, and the hilt burned white-hot. I dropped it, then watched in horror and fascination as it was absorbed into the forest floor, like it had never existed. The Devil just smiled, flashing two menacing fangs that extended slightly past his human teeth. The magyk fireflies danced away and faded into the air.
“Do you really believe I would harm you?” he purred. “Only minutes after declaring my devotion?”
I moved away, jerking the iron medallion from beneath the collar of my dress. I held it out like a ward as he backed me right into the trunk of another tree. His discomforting eyes swept over my face, full of a terrible, animalistic hunger that made my stomach quiver.
“Stay away from me,” I whispered, but the Devil’s smile only widened.
“But you have not paid your debt.”
“Our bargain did not require you to get so fucking close,” I spat, but he did not step away. The sight of blood smattered across his mask, chin, and neck nearly brought me to tears. “And it did not require you to hurt Will either, or to shoot that prisoner!”
The Devil just ran a thumb over his cheek, then examined the red stain. To my horror, he opened his mouth and licked Will’s blood from his skin, then smacked his lips. “A few notes of bitterness, with a robust finish of cowardice and mediocrity. Surely, this is not to your taste, May.”
“Never call me that name! Our bargain is broken, Devil!”
He put on an expression of mocking confusion and mused, “I do not remember the safety of your lover being at issue, given that you were a mere child when we made our deal. You must be mistaken. But, if repayment for the boy’s blood is what you want, I shall oblige.” He tugged at the laces on the front of his tunic until it was open, and I watched with bated breath as he exposed half of his own pale chest, which was also marked by the snake-skin-pattern scars. Slowly, he reached out and grasped my wrist. I froze again, my heart hammering as he pulled myhand closer, and pressed the iron medallion to his skin. There was a faint hissing sound, and the muscles in his jaw clenched, but he pressed harder, never breaking our eye contact.
“What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly.
His reply came laced with pain. “Showing what I am willing to endure for your sake.”
The words, and their earnest tone, caused something within me to snap and I jerked my hand away, removing the medallion from his breast. A raw, red mark was left behind, like a fresh cattle brand. The Devil’s skin, scarred by the symbol of my own Holy Church. Horror and confusion flooded my mind, but the Devil appeared unaffected, and merely ran his thumb over the mark before looking back at me.
“Please, I only want to pay my debt and leave,” I whispered as the inches between us seemed to close. I could feel his breath on my cheek and almost see the contours of his face beneath the mask.
“But I have brought you home.”
“This isnotmy home.”
“Neither was he.”
I ignored the jibe and asked, “So, I am a captive?”
“You called, and I came.”
“I only wanted you to come and get me, not hurt people! I did not think you were such a…”
“A what?” he asked, still smirking. “A monster? I told you as much the first night we met. You are an honored guest here, but the Arden will not release you until your debt to me is paid.”
“Then let me pay it now, please,” I begged. “I can heal this…” My hand hovered over the fresh burn on his chest. The Devil’s brow furrowed and he reached up to tuck a stray curl behind my ear. I stiffened at his touch, pulling away and bundling myself against the trunk of the tree, as if it would afford me some protection.
“That is not what requires healing in this forest. Come.” He offered his hand, but I didn’t take it. Trying to stall as long as I could, terrified of what else he and the Arden might have in store for me, I ran my eyes over his mask.
“I’m to be your prisoner for the time being, very well,” I said. “I agreed to your terms, and I did call for you, but…at least let me see the face of my jailer.”
The Devil did not reply, just dipped his head toward me. I hesitated for only a second, seeing that the mask was not held on by any visible ribbon or strap, then slipped my fingertips beneath the edge of the hardened leaves. They felt almost metallic, but looked real enough that I thought they might crumble at my touch.His eyes closed and his breath hitched slightly as I pulled the mask away, then dropped it unceremoniously into the grass at my feet.
He was certainly not handsome. At least, not the way some human men were. Everything about him was ever so slightly…off, as if he should not exist at all. As if his creation had been brought about through sheer force of will, rather than through nature’s usual processes. His beauty, the fabled allure of the Fair Folk, was undeniable, but it reminded me of a patchwork quilt—disparate pieces drawn together to create an intricate design. A design that made me want to look closer, to run my fingers along it until I’d uncovered every clever seam or subtle detail the maker had left behind.
“Satisfied?” the Devil asked softly, his mismatched eyes searching my face for a reaction.
