Page 18 of Devil’s Doom (Jaga and the Devil #2)

Chapter eighteen

Marks

“No tears? No curses or angry glares?” he asks mockingly after a moment of silence.

I shrug. “It’s good to know where you stand. Makes things easier.”

And the deep, piercing pain in my chest is happening to somebody else. It’s not mine. I know better than to feel irrationally hurt by his words. It’s good that he told me. And my stupid heart will realize it, too.

Hopefully soon.

Woland studies me a moment longer, then lets me go. He lifts his hand up to his mouth. A ball of glittering shadows shifting between gray, black, and indigo sits in the middle of his palm.

“Bring me the upir and the wila for an audience. Send in a meal, too.”

When the little ball rises high and passes through the ceiling, I realize the words weren’t meant for me. He sent a magical message to somebody else. I clench my fists.

“You said you won’t hurt them,” I grit out, rallying my magic to protect my friends.

“And I won’t.” Woland turns to me with a gleeful smile. “Your upir brought my estranged lover back to me. I had to punish her, of course, because how dare she run away, but he will be rewarded.”

I snort with disgust. “So I’m supposed to pretend you punished me? Forget it.”

“You don’t have to pretend.”

He waves his hand indolently over my body and turns me until I face my reflection. My eyes grow wide when I see the state of myself. My throat is dark with bruises, eyes red from tears. The wound in my neck that healed thanks to his magic comes back, red and bloody. Yet nothing hurts.

“No. I won’t wear those marks,” I hiss, pressing my hand to my throat in a desperate attempt to heal the bruise.

But my own magic hasn’t replenished yet. My spell fails.

“And why is that?” Woland asks with a wicked smile. “They tell the truth of what I did to you, don’t they? And you are such a champion for honesty.”

I seethe, trying to understand where my anger comes from. He’s right—he choked me, he drank my blood, he made me suffer. But I wasn’t powerless in that exchange. He did it all because he lost control. He craved my blood and was enraged by my rejection. It wasn’t a punishment.

What he did to me was a sign of my power over him , as twisted as it sounds. Yet he means the bruises to tell a different story—of his mastery and my subjugation.

“It’s humiliating,” I say. “And I don’t spread my legs for those who humiliate me. Remove the marks.”

He shrugs, unconcerned. “You’ll come around. For now, settle down, my darling, because your friends are here.”

He grips my elbow and leads me away from the bed just as a door clangs somewhere ahead in the cavernous room. At the snap of Woland’s fingers, golden light floods the space, innumerable light orbs floating under the ceiling. The light makes the cavern cozier, revealing sumptuous furniture.

We reach a dining area with a long table bracketed by two benches. At the head sits Woland’s throne, the polished, black skulls on the armrests gleaming in the light.

I want to make a cutting remark about his grim dining setup, but a tall, willowy woman with bottomless black eyes comes in, pushing Lech and Rada into the room. She bows so low, her waist-long, black hair brushes the floor. Behind her comes a kobold, three trays of steaming food hovering in the air in front of him.

The kobold bows in clear deference, and my nostrils flare with irritation. Woland barely acknowledges his servants, as if the nauseating subservience is expected and completely natural.

“Leave,” he says when the food is on the table.

The woman and the kobold bow again, making me grit my teeth, and walk away, keeping their eyes low. Their shoulders are tense, and I can tell they fear him.

“Is that how you treat your followers?” I mutter under my breath.

Woland ignores me, turning to Lech and Rada. She watches us both with wide, fearful eyes, and Lech has his arm around her, his mouth set in a grim line, eyes cast down. When the doors clang shut, he steps forward, falling to his knees.

“Please, punish only me, master,” he says, his voice tight and guttural. “The woman and child had nothing to do with it. It was my decision to bring them. It’s my mistake.”

For a moment, everyone is silent. I gape at Lech, shocked by his behavior. I can’t believe it’s him—the sardonic creature with a smart mouth and quick reflexes. Lech never bowed to any authority. But then, he was a rebel all along. The devil is his true master.

Woland turns to me, his eyes aglitter. “See, Jaga? Reputation is everything.”

Rada blinks, giving me a quick, penetrating look. Lech remains on the floor, his hands clasped so tightly, his knuckles are white.

“Rise, upir,” Woland says finally as he takes his seat at the head of the table. He pulls a large platter of meat closer and grabs a knife. “Come and sit. Not you, Jaga. You’ll sit in my lap or not at all.”

I freeze by the bench at the end of the table farthest from Woland, where I was about to take my place. Holding his gaze, I sit slowly. He grins. The wood under my ass grows scalding, and I jump away with a yelp.

Rada’s eyes grow bigger and bigger, but she takes a seat on Woland’s left without protest. Lech slides in next to her, his arm around her shoulders. He watches Woland with tension, no trace of his usual amusement in his face.

I clench my teeth and lean against a pillar on Woland’s right, facing my friends. Lech doesn’t look at me, but Rada’s eyes flicker to mine constantly, like she can’t help herself. Dar sleeps in the sling wrapped around her body, his head leaning on her chest.

“Eat. You must be hungry,” Woland says, cutting off a piece of meat, the knife’s handle made of carved bone. “And relax, for fuck’s sake. I mean to thank you, not punish you.”

Lech nods sharply, his shoulders dropping with relief. “Thank you, master. I never meant to expose this place. My task is to recruit new soldiers. I believed Alina—I mean, Jaga—was a perfect candidate. She’s powerful and compassionate. I didn’t know that you and her… That you knew each other.”

Woland chews and swallows, and I watch him, wondering why that sight seems so bizarre. Then I realize it’s the first time I see him eating. Just like seeing his bed before, it’s so oddly mundane. But then, it shouldn’t surprise me. He is alive, he breathes and walks, so it makes sense that he eats.

“You earned my gratitude,” Woland says easily, cutting off another piece. “The willful thing ran away. I don’t care to keep a woman if she’d rather go, but I missed her antics. I’m glad we are reunited.”

He shits and pisses, just like everyone, I think to myself, giving him a grim smile when he looks at me, his eyebrow mockingly raised. He has weaknesses, too. He’s not invincible.

“Hungry, darling?” Woland asks. He holds a piece of succulent meat with his fingers, offering me the food as if I’m a pet. “Come over. I’ll feed you.”

My mouth waters. I’m absolutely famished from magical depletion and the long trek through the tunnels, but hunger won’t make me cave. It’s clear what Woland is doing. He means to humiliate me and make his followers believe I’m in his power.

“No, thank you,” I say cooly, wondering what he’ll do next.

He gives me a toothy smile and drops the piece of meat on the floor by his throne. It falls into a clay bowl that materializes next to his hoof. My nostrils flare, but I don’t move.

“In case you change your mind,” he says, eyes hooded.

I clench my jaw and keep my tongue firmly behind my teeth, pressing it to the roof of my mouth. Woland watches me a while longer, and when I don’t react, he shrugs and focuses his attention on Lech.

“There should be dragon blood in the pitcher,” he says, waving his hand at the dish. “Serve yourself. If you haven’t had it before, I assure you, it’s a delicacy. I suspect your lady will enjoy the duck.”

Lech cuts a few pieces of the roast duck that smells of herbs. The knife clatters against the dish a few times, his hands unsteady. He pours the blood without mishap, his crystal goblet filling with dark liquid.

I breathe through my nose, holding my anger in check. The air is so thick with tension, I have to marvel at Woland’s easy manners and healthy appetite. He seems to be oblivious to Lech’s and Rada’s fear.

While Lech sips on his blood and Rada takes dainty bites of her duck, I think up ways to get back at the devil. I suppose I could spell his goblet to fling his wine in his face. Maybe I could tear his knife out of his grip and attack him—provided his magic flowing in my veins will allow it.

My best bet, though, is waiting until my own magic builds back up. I could do so much with it. He’d pay for every humiliation and hurt.

But for that to happen, I need food.

“So how did you meet my wayward poppy girl?” Woland asks Lech after drinking deeply from his goblet.

“At the milk bar,” I answer first. “He saved me from overpaying for a room. Feed me, please.”

I plop unceremoniously down in Woland’s lap, putting my arms around his neck. He blinks, surprised, but then a slow smile curves his lips.

“Well, darling. I expected you to hold out at least until dinner,” he says with a soft laugh, spearing a piece of meat onto his fork. “Here.”

He drops the knife onto his plate, his hand splaying possessively over my hip, but a moment later, the knife rises and cuts more pieces, controlled by magic. Rada stares at me as I chew, finally clearing her throat.

“Excuse me. So your name is Jaga, then? Not Alina?”

I nod, sighing with regret. “Yes. I’m sorry I deceived you. I needed to hide.”

“Because he beats you and won’t let you eat on your own? I understand,” she says softly, her eyes big and filled with sorrow as she stares at my throat. “I would have hidden, too.”

Woland stiffens, and I bite the tip of my tongue, unsure whether to laugh or beg him to spare her. I don’t think he’ll hurt Rada for saying what she thinks, though. Wasn’t it his goal to make everyone believe he punished me?

“I’m still hungry,” I say innocently, twisting in his lap to look at his face. “Feed me more, please.”

His anger seems to evaporate as he pulls me closer. He offers me another piece, and as I take it into my mouth, he whispers, “I enjoy you the most when you beg.”

Lech chokes on a sip of blood and Woland gives him a cool look. In that moment, I understand he’s still jealous despite my assurances that no man touched me. That’s what all this is about. He puts on a show for Lech, which is utterly ridiculous and petty.

The realization makes him seem more real and approachable, just like the bed and eating. He’s a man with flaws and needs, someone tangible and warm, and not a nebulous force of evil made of shadows and menace.

I remember how he once said I couldn’t jerk him around by his cock, but this new revelation makes me think he was wrong.

Woland’s claws dig into my hip, and when the upir stops coughing, the devil grabs the back of my head and pulls me in for a savage kiss.

I kiss him back, delighted by my discovery. He sucks on my lip, kisses me once more, and pulls back. He doesn’t look at me but at Lech, whose cheeks grow pink, the unforgiving redhead complexion revealing his emotions.

“She’s magnificent, isn’t she?” Woland asks, leaning back on his throne, one hoof carelessly propped up against the table’s edge. “I suspect no disguise can hide her tenacity and power. Such a strong woman. Why have you brought her to me only now?”

Lech swallows, eyes darting between Woland’s face and mine. “To be completely honest, it was for her own good. Alina—I mean Jaga… She has a tendency to break the wrong rules. She needs to learn, and you need more people. And we… I hope for protection.”

Woland nods, extending a hand. His wine goblet floats into his grasp, and he offers it to me. I drink.

“You brought the child and its mother because you’re terrified of Jaga’s rule-breaking that saved the boy’s life,” he says, nodding. “As if that wasn’t the most magnificent thing about her.”

Lech opens and closes his mouth, his brow furrowing. Woland drinks from his goblet and sends it back to the table, calling his fork instead. He feeds me another bite.

“So you know,” Lech says. He glances at Rada, who looks between us, confused and wary.

“I do. And now, both of you will forget such a thing ever happened. Jaga never broke any laws. The boy has been healthy and fine all along, and neither of you needs to worry. Is the blood to your satisfaction?”

A flash of bright light passes over Lech’s and Rada’s eyes. They both freeze for a moment, and then Lech smiles, looking far more relaxed.

“Yes, it’s excellent. Thank you again for inviting us, master.”

Rada smiles, too, looking down when Dar wakes up with a soft cry. I frown. Woland feeds me another bite, and I chew slowly, looking at my friends, until I understand what happened. He used magic on them just now.

Suddenly, we’re surrounded by his shadows, just the two of us. Woland stretches his neck, his vertebrae cracking.

“They are fine. I simply made them forget,” he says. “It’s just a precaution. I won’t have you hauled away for tampering with life and death when your nervous friend inevitably blabs it out. If you have objections, say them now, and let’s go back. The upir is right. You need to learn a lot.”

I stare into his eyes, the gold sucking me in. Everything that happened between us today swirls in my head, and the more I try to understand him, the more tangled it gets.

Does he really care about me? Is he jealous because I’m important to him, or just because of his pride? Does he look out for me only because I’m the key to his victory? What is this thing between us—lust, mind games, or something else?

And what do the marks on my skin actually mean? Is he in control, or am I? How much of what he said today was true?

“Well?” Woland asks, getting impatient. “Decide. You need to eat more, too, before you go. I won’t let you starve again.”

“It’s fine,” I say, still gazing into his eyes. They hold all the answers, and I wish I could pull them out one by one. “But who will remove your memories? How do I know you won’t give me away if it suits you?”

Woland throws his head back when he laughs, his throat bared, the knife within my reach. I wait, my fingers tingling, and when he finally looks at me, his expression is fond and a bit exasperated. I know it well.

“Darling, Perun would never believe a word I say. He is far too smart for that,” he says with a wicked glimmer in his eye.

I reach up and gently wrap my fingers around his throat, using both hands. His neck is muscular and strong from bearing the weight of his antlers.

Woland’s smile falls away, his eyes watchful but not afraid.

I squeeze just a little, just once. His cock jerks under my thigh, and I smile.

“I don’t know the rules of the game you’re playing,” I say softly as his lips part, tongue darting out to lick the lower one. “But I will learn them. And then I’ll cheat and win.”

The smile he gives me is predatory and dark, edged with cruelty. It makes me shiver from fear and lust, a familiar combination that has me hooked.

“Do your worst, love.”