Page 41 of Devils Don’t Deal

Sato elbowed her husband in the ribs, but not hard enough to hurt her elbow, so definitely not hard enough to hurt him. “She’s allowed to go to a bank by herself.”

“After the last attack? That’s an optimistic analysis of the situation.”

I walked faster toward the elevator, but it hurt. I’d already spent so much energy walking up all the steps.

“Ebon, carry her. I really don’t want the devil to make a mess in my lobby.”

“I’m fine⁠—”

The half-goblin picked me up and ran, his gait really smooth for how fast we were going.

“Sorry about that, but he’s my king,” Ebon said apologetically as he set me down in the elevator then backed up, letting the doors close between us.

I grabbed the metal rail, holding on while it sped upward. Was it faster up than going down? Weird. Gravity should’ve exerted some kind of force on it…but goblin tech wasn’t normal.

The elevator lurched to a stop and the doors opened. I put a hand to my chest and went out, wincing as I went. My whole body ached, and I just wanted to lie down on the metal floor and sleep forever.

The goblins didn’t know if the Lady of the Wild Woods was coming back, but someone else had hired them to make that specific deal with the devil. And they thought he was weak now. I guess they hadn’t seen Divinity. They hadn’t known I was the target. Was I not supposed to have been her target? Maybe the Lady of the Wild Woods went off script. Or maybe whoever hired them hadn’t told them everything. Who wanted me dead? I didn’t even know very many people, and I tried to be kind to those I met. My great-uncle had come to the shop and checked everything out. Was it him? Surely, he wouldn’t stoop to hiring goblins, but who else hated my existence enough to kill me?

The whole thing was depressing. I missed my rabbit.

Speaking of… I hadn’t taken two steps out of the elevator when Divinity leapt at me, hit my chest, and knocked me back. I held him tight, a wave of happiness and rightness washing away all the rising misery as I buried my nose in his soft white fur.

“Miss Charles,” the devil said, walking toward me and swinging his very sharp cane. His eyes glittered in their dangerously dark depths. He was so absolutely delicious, particularly when he moved and his tail lashed. “If you needed to go to the bank, I would’ve happily provided a ride.”

I nodded but clung to the rabbit while my heart beat painfully in my chest. “I didn’t want to ride in the spider-mech. Still, I think I overdid it today. Why does it take so long to heal? Magic should make everything all better without any effort.”

His smile was sharp. “Magic is more effort than anything, which you know because you did something in your kitchen. Strong magic takes a great deal of energy, which you do not have to expend. That does it. I’m hiring a baker for you while you recover. You can open the shop, but the goods won’t be magic. When you’re finally up to baking, you’re charging five times as much as you have been. Your goods are magical, and the price must reflect the energy you put into it.”

I sighed. He was probably right. I walked toward him, dragging, then glanced to the side and happened to notice that no goblins were moving. Like at all. Not breathing, not blinking, not twitching even though several looked ready to launch forward and attack over the counters. It was like they were caught in a bubble of time.

I stopped walking. “What did you do to them?”

His voice was as smooth as chocolate mousse. “Nothing. Yet. They didn’t want me to retrieve you from the vault. They can’t keep what’s mine without my consent.”

I nodded. “Of course. I’m your object, just another deal you made to solve a problem you had.”

“That’s not what I meant.” His voice was tight but still deliciously smooth.

“What did you mean? Never mind. I don’t want to know. I’m too tired. You should pick me up and put me in your pocket.”

“Should I?” His eyes glimmered dangerously. “If I did that, I’m not sure I’d ever let you out. Wonderland is a pocket. I have several others you may prefer.”

I kept walking until I reached him, but he didn’t pick me up, just walked beside me toward the door, his pace matching my very slow one.

“All those stairs,” I mumbled when we got outside and I got to see the miserable stretch below me. Maybe I’d just fall down then roll right into the back seat of the snail shell car.

“What goes up must come down,” he murmured, swinging his cane.

“Why don’t you want to carry me?”

“Because you’d want me to put you down eventually, and at this point in my existence, I’m not sure that would be possible. I’m good at seeing long-term results. Picking you up right now is the last thing I should do. The more I want to steal you away, the less I should. Unless you’d like me to take you away for good. You would forget about the rest of the world, your father, your dreams, and everything would be melting pleasure and bliss.” His eyes were as tempting as his voice.

I swayed toward him then forced myself upright as I took my first step down. “All pleasure and no responsibility makes life incredibly boring. But thanks for the offer. Although it felt more like a threat.”

“It did, didn’t it? Many have wanted to trade a life of respectability and boredom for one of endless pleasure. But you’re right. Without purpose, everything dims.”

It was suddenly irritating that he agreed with me, particularly after he’d threatened me. “Turn around.”