Victoria's Demon Lover by Bess Alia

Author:Bess, Alia [Bess, Alia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-06-26T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Victoria lit another candle. This time she was wearing her thick leather boots and jeans. She had on one of her long sleeved cotton blouses and her sheepskin vest. Just in case. It seems Hell can be both hot and cold. She pointed at her fresh chalk circle and at the moment her digital clock flashed 12:00 she said, “Jasper!”

He seemed glad to see her. “Victoria.” His little demon eyes glanced at her closet. She had cleverly left the door open and lined up her most outrageous shoes. In front were the red pumps with the faux fur bows and the pink stilettos with the genuine cubic zirconia accents on the heels. Jasper’s eyes glittered.

“I want you to take me back to him.”

“He told me not to. He says you are not ready yet.”

“I insist. Besides, we made a pact.” She showed him her finger. “Did you make a pact with him?”

He looked uncomfortable. “No.”

She walked over to the closet and picked up the pink pumps with the cubic zirconia heels and swung them on one finger. She watched his eyes sway back and forth. She raised an eyebrow. He put his little monkey lips together in a straight line and shook his head. Without taking her eyes from his she bent and picked up the red pumps with the fur bows. Jasper began to tremble. “Both,” she offered as she swung all four shoes from both hands.

The little monkey demon jumped up and down in his chalk circle. “He will be angry if I bring you back! He said he will hurt me!”

“I once walked three blocks in these,” she showed him the pink ones, “wearing real silk stockings.”

Jasper nearly peed himself. “Done! Done!” His little hands reached for the shoes. “But I can’t be there when he sees you.”

“Done,” she agreed.

This time she appeared in a gloomy landscape somewhere in the northlands. No trees near the ford, but farther up the sides of the mountain. Very north. Was there a northern part of Hell? She looked down at herself. She had been clever to put on the boots and the vest, but now she wearing a long woolen dress of homespun gray with a wide apron and leather flats on her feet with ties around her ankles. Jasper cringed close to her knees and clutched his precious shoes to his chest. His eyes were big when he looked up at her.

“He is over that hill. There is a farmstead there. He is inside.” With that Jasper disappeared in a puff of smoke, only a faint sulfur scent remained.

Victoria remembered what Mr. Magnus had said about courage. She straightened her dress and began the slow hike over the hill. The mist dampened her hair and by the time she crested the hill and began down the other side she was dripping wet. The breeze that came off the distant fjord bit her through the wool. Her teeth chattered and she wished for warmth from the fires of Hell.

The longhouse on the shore had gray smoke spiraling up from a hole in the center of the roof.

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