Page 36 of Summoning Mr. Wrong
“What about the tattoos?” I asked, touching one that swirled lazily on his forearm. “And the… energy thing?”
A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?”
Chapter 21
We spent the rest of the day “testing” his remaining powers, which conveniently required multiple rounds of increasingly creative sex. The energy transfer still worked, though perhaps less intensely than before. The tattoos still moved and could still extend onto my skin during intimate contact, creating those patterns of shared pleasure that I’d come to crave.
By evening, sprawled across my bed in pleasant exhaustion, we had a pretty good inventory of what had changed. Deus could no longer telekinetically move objects or manifest things out of thin air (a disappointing discovery when we realized we’d run out of lube). He couldn’t teleport, though he hadn’t tried that much in my apartment anyway. He retained his supernatural strength, his ability to change his appearance, and his unnaturally perfect cooking skills (thank goodness).
“So basically you’re just a slightly-more-than-human boyfriend now,” I summarized, tracing patterns on his chest. “With awesome tattoos and minor supernatural abilities.”
“And bound to stay within a hundred miles of you,” he added, catching my hand and pressing a kiss to my palm. “Which I would have done anyway.”
“A hundred miles is a pretty good range,” I pointed out. “We could even take a trip somewhere, if we wanted.”
“We could,” he agreed thoughtfully. “I haven’t been a tourist in decades. Too busy with contracts and favors.”
“What will you do now?” I asked, suddenly realizing a key practical concern. “I mean, you don’t have to fulfill the favor anymore, but you also can’t go back to… whatever you normally do between contracts.”
Deus was quiet for a moment, considering. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I’ve never had a probationary period like this before. Never stayed with a summoner beyond the completion of a favor.” He glanced at me. “Any suggestions?”
I thought about it. “Well, you’re pretty good with books. Maybe you could work at the store with me? Or we could build on that graduate student backstory—you could actually take some classes, study something you’re interested in.”
“Hmm, student or bookseller,” he mused. “Both have their appeal. Or I could be a chef—I do make excellent pasta.”
“You could do anything,” I realized. “You have centuries of knowledge and experience. Plus, you’re charming when you want to be.”
“Only when I want to be?” he asked with mock offense.
I laughed, poking him in the ribs. “You know what I mean. You could do whatever makes you happy.”
He pulled me closer, his expression turning serious. “What would make me happy is being with you,” he said simply. “The rest is just details.”
The sincerity in his voice made my heart swell. “We’ll figure it out,” I promised. “We have a year.”
“A year,” he repeated. “It’s strange—for a being as old as I am, a year should feel like nothing. A blink. But thinking about a year with you… it feels significant. Precious.”
“It is precious,” I agreed, settling against his chest. “And it’s just the beginning.”
As I drifted toward sleep, wrapped in his supernatural warmth, I marveled at how completely my life had changed in the three months since that desperate ritual. I’d gone from brokeand alone to employed and in love with a demon who was now my officially-contracted boyfriend.
Not the abundance I’d been trying to manifest, perhaps, but infinitely more valuable.
Epilogue
Six months after the enforcer’s visit, life had settled into a new normal that still occasionally struck me as surreal. Deus had indeed taken a job at the bookstore, charming customers and secretly reorganizing sections according to his own mysterious system that somehow resulted in increased sales. My boss was thrilled, customers loved him, and I got to spend my days watching him effortlessly navigate human interactions with just the right amount of supernatural charisma.
We’d moved to a slightly larger apartment—still modest, but with enough space that we weren’t constantly tripping over each other. Deus had embraced the task of decorating with enthusiasm, creating a space that somehow felt more like home than anywhere I’d ever lived.
My parents visited again, this time meeting Deus as my official boyfriend rather than my roommate. My mother had simply nodded knowingly and said, “I told you so,” while my father had given Deus a firm handshake and a warning look that would have been more intimidating if he’d known he was threatening a supernatural being.
The binding token remained on Deus’s collar, now just one tattoo among many. He’d adapted to his reduced powers with surprising grace, often joking that doing things “the human way” was building character.
“Do you miss it?” I asked one lazy Sunday morning as we lingered in bed, sunlight streaming through the curtains. “The Between? Your full powers? Your… demon life?”
Deus considered the question seriously, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my bare shoulder. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “It’s been my reality for millennia. But…” He pulled me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “What I have here with you is worth the trade.”
I nestled against him, marveling at how perfectly we fit together. “What do you think will happen when Kobaamoch returns? Six months down, six to go.”
