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The Empress (The Tarot Club 1)

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I sighed, agitated with the conversation, unsure of Cort’s end game, and headed towards the bar for a refresher.

Two steps later and I felt a hand rest on the small of my back, the uncalloused fingers sending jolts of pleasure through my body. I glared at Cort through my lashes. He chuckled. A Pleasure Demon, perhaps? I couldn’t be certain.

There was a lot I was uncertain of this evening.

Finally, leaning against the bar, whilst discreetly stepping out of Cort’s touch, he leaned in, whispering against my neck, "Let me guess, a moet girl?"

I wanted to vomit. Was I so predictable that even a Demon could easily assume my drink of choice or was it simply a byproduct of the society I kept?

My eyes ached from my refusal to blink. It was futile, you couldn’t stare down a Demon, not truly.

"Shouldn't you be back in your own realm or something? I'm pretty sure there are rules about you being here".

My voice sounded flat, bored even. My thumping heart, however, erased any semblance of aloofness I may have portrayed. I mentally scrambled through my lessons, trying to recall if a Demon could pick up on increased heart rates and other nuances of the human body.

"Hmmm. But I bend the rules, Little Witch," he exhaled against the shell of my ear, and this time I couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through me. He felt my body stiffen in response and let out a sensual chuckle.

"Stop doing that," I hissed.

Ignoring me entirely, his lips parted as he took a sensual sip of his drink, “Not going to lie, Little Witch, when I arrived, I didn’t think that I would find one of your kind here - not that I’m not enthralled with your company.” he dipped his head in acknowledgement.

I narrowed my gaze on him in an attempt to decipher the game he was playing.

"Shouldn't you be trying to banish me?” he goaded.

Involuntarily, I quirked a brow at him. "Why? I don't really make a habit out of banishing Demons.” I glared, forcing my bravado to the surface, refusing to show him that his presence unsettled me.

Cort grinned.

“Besides, I doubt a banishment would even work on you.”

He shrugged by way of reply, “It would be fun to see you try though.”

Well, that confirmed it then. He was a high level Demon. Which also explained his god-like appearance. Wait, did I just think that?

He watched me for a moment, his eyes glowing unusually bright. “I have to wonder, Little Witch,” he leant towards me, “why is it that you seem to be only interested in summoning my kind? Is it because you want someone to do your bidding?” His eyes glowed brighter with every word he spoke, “Someone to please you, perhaps?” His fingers trailed against my skirts, skimming my thigh.

Worse still, he knew the mess Marie and I had made.

The white summoning circle we had sketched out in chalk, along with the heaps of course salt we had added around its edges, seemed to burn, the acidic smell penetrative through all our senses. Witches summoned Demons all the time, or at least Dark Witches did - and Charl was always encouraging us to practice, and so practice we did.

Only what answered our summons didn't seem to be a run-of-the-mill Demon, and I watched in growing horror as my friend's eyes began to discolour, her dark pupils bleeding out into the rest of her eye so no speck of white could be seen. Marie had uttered the last words of the spell, leaving the Demon to attach itself to her - to possess her.

I shut my eyes at the onslaught of memories, breathing in the present - even if that meant having to deal with Charl. Marie's wild eyes as she turned towards me and attacked me wouldn't be something I would ever just shake off.

“Can you stop calling me that.” I hissed, attempting to cover my blush, diverting my thoughts to the Demon before me - a different kind of Demon to my past. My eyes darted across the bar, ensuring that we were not overheard.

He chuckled deeply, heat curling in my core.

“So it isn’t only I who is in hiding tonight.”

His grin sent another lick of heat through my body and I tamped down on it in annoyance.

"But for you, hiding your true essence is not simply confined to this night alone, is it?" He drawled.

I simply glared at him. Fucking Demon. He knew the answer, and I found myself no longer interested in playing this game with him. My cheeks scorched with the knowledge that he knew how utterly useless I had been - that it was only due to Charl that I was standing here.

Once my sparkling water arrived, I de-tangled myself and said curtly, "Well, this has been fun, Cort. Good luck with your mergers and acquisitions."

"It was a delight meeting you, Corinne." And the way his tongue curved around my name had me envisioning a bed, complete with tangled sheets, the smell of sex heavy on the air as Cort thrust inside me against the wall. His chuckle followed me as I left, and I knew that that little vision had been his parting gift.

I circled the hall, bidding my farewells. Midnight was fast approaching and I needed to be at the Royal Bar. Halfway through my goodbyes, I lingered on the knowledge that Cort knew that I had summoned Demons. Fuck. For him to know something like that he would have to be really high up in their food chain. Maybe even a prince? My stomach hollowed out at the thought. My eyes fell across the room in farewell, lingering on the various dancing flames from each table. Cort was nowhere in sight and I had the foreboding sense that he had not been here for the gala at all, that he had, in fact, been here for me.

Shaking my head in a bid to dispel these thoughts from my mind, I left the gala with a sense of dread, promising to call Andrew.



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