"Come on, little witch. You're only prolonging the inevitable. We're going to have you one way... or the other..."
***
There are some rules you don't break
when it comes to the supernatural.
1. Don't be an idiot.
2. Don't make deals with Demons...
Song: Blood Sport- Sleep Token (they are the official band for this book apparently. THEY JUST DONT MISS)
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The Witch
There was something so satisfying about putting Des in his place. It was even better when he realized that I didn't actually need him at all. It was all an act.
I considered it cruel justice for scaring the absolute shit out of me with that game of roulette. That was a dick move.
But if he went low, I would go lower.
And god did that make me feel alive. But apparently the fun didn't end there.
I heard his door swing open wildly.
"Coralynn," he shouted, striding after me. "Get the fuck back in here."
Got him.
"No," I hummed cheerfully. "I don't think I will. Besides, Mal has requested my presence. You don't want me to be late to that meeting."
"You're playing a very dangerous game, peaches," he growled, gripping my arm and pulling me to face him.
I gave a fake pout. "Aw. Someone's mad that their manipulation didn't go as planned."
His handsome face twisted into a snarl, teeth baring as he spoke. "If you think this is fucking over, you have another thing coming, Coralynn."
I stepped closer, running a light finger down his chest. Then I lifted my gaze, head tilting before allowing a deviant smile to rise on my lips.
"Come and get me, cowboy," I purred.
His eyes shut as if the words hit their mark. Then, I patted his cheek tauntingly as he did to me and stepped away to leave. I could hear him muttering curses all the way back to his room, door slamming shut behind him.
I smiled wider.
God, I loved fucking with these assholes.
***
I cleaned myself up, still feeling the victory envigorate my seemingly always tired body.
Levi had dropped off some more clothes for me and I picked out a plain shirt and some black pants. Once changed, I made my way to the common space.
Levi sat on the couch, his tattooed chest exposed and bandages in the open. The bullet had been extracted from his shoulder with the expertise of Sam's knife skills.
He lifted his head from the couch curiously. "What did you do to poor Des," he asked in amusement.
"Only what he deserved," I shrugged.
His smirk only grew. "You evil, evil, woman," he chuckled. "His poor ego must be shattered."
