I staggered back, almost falling down from my chair, gasping for the air like a fish. “What are you?!”

Voren dropped his hand to look at me and cackle. “Your face… The way you goggle is so adorable.” ​​

“A-adorable?” Now I was both shocked and embarrassed. Against my better wishes, I felt heat growing to my cheeks. “Just answer the question! You made me sign that contract… this was all your plan, wasn’t it?”

Voren shrugged. “I had to, if I wanted you to see me naked, after all. I like these contracts, you know? So useful.”

I took in deep breaths, trying to calm down my raging heartbeat. Besides showing what he hid under that cloak, Voren didn’t act differently from what he already did, but just in case, I moved my chair a little closer to the kitchen table. This was it would be easier for me to reach my own kitchen knives. “Don’t change the topic.”

“I’m a demon.”

“A… demon? Like, from Hell?” I blinked. Voren didn’t fit the description of a typical demon.

The demons I heard about were usually ugly as sin, horrifying monstrosities of claws, teeth, and spikes. Sometimes, the creatures were summoned as aides by warlocks and wizards. Sometimes, they escaped their masters, and then they would ravage their surroundings, somehow always gravitating towards taverns and restaurants. I guessed demons liked booze and good food as much as any other person.

“Where else?” Voren scowled. “And I’d still be there if not for the bastards who call themselves gods.”

“Why would you want to stay there? It’s Hell. It’s an awful place, isn’t it?” Or at least everyone said so. Suddenly, I was burning with curiosity. How many other people could have answers from someone who personally been there? “If the Twelve sent you here, shouldn’t you be thanking them?”

“Thank them?! No way in Hell!” Voren slammed his hand on the table, almost growling. “They took away almost all my power. This,” he gestured at himself, “is just scraps in comparison!”

I edged a little away from him, but in a moment Voren calmed down again. “Rosha, you and I both want some revenge. Mine is harder to get, but one day…” he threw a dreamy glance at the ceiling before turning his intent eyes to mine again. “So, will you tell me what happened with you sister now?”

I pursed my lips.

Contract or not, it was too personal to tell. I didn’t want to speak about this dirty story, even if I couldn’t help but relive it in my head, to tell myself again if I should’ve been more forceful with Risha, should’ve stopped her before it was too late…

She worked as a waitress in the Guild since she became old enough—sixteen. There, three weeks ago, she met Teren—a shining star, by local standards, almost Gold rank. Risha believed she loved him, and he loved her… that bastard promised to marry her and bring her the moon from the sky, and all to get under her skirt. I warned Risha that promises like these aren’t to be trusted, but she believed him more than me.

But at least she still didn’t want to lose her virginity before the marriage—one thing I did well in teaching Risha, for all good it did to her. Just five days ago, I had to see her run to me from Teren’s house, crying, because the swine forced himself on her.

He still had the gall to ask about her in the Guild, tell people he worried about her, that he loved her. He told the same to Risha that night, too. The liar broke my sister’s heart in the worst possible way, and no matter how painful would be his death, it wouldn’t be enough to diminish my anger.

But at least she would be safe from him afterwards. Otherwise, I didn’t even want to imagine what he would do. He had the means to run not just Risha, but me too, and I knew Risha won’t forgive herself if I went in trouble because of her.

Finally, I shook my head. “It’s personal, for my sister and for me. So, no.”

Voren shrugged. “Fine.”

“If you are really a demon, can you tell me about Hell?” I asked, eager to change the topic to something more comfortable.

“If I’m really a demon? What else could I be?” Voren’s words and eyes made me blush again. That didn’t leave my mouth on purpose. “Alright, I will tell, if you bring me something to eat. Do you have sweets?”

Food for a story. That worked. I stood up and went to a cupboard where I kept my food since I couldn’t afford a cellar or ice box. It was mostly grain and vegetables but for the guest… I pulled out a jar with the last honeyed biscuits Risha favoured and picked out four with an inward promise to bake her more later.

Voren accepted them out of my hands with an avaricious spark in his eyes and held them in his palms like treasures. Then, he bit a tiny piece from one, closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure.

“Delicious. It’s been so long since I tasted something so good…”

I watched him, unable to entirely stop myself from mellowing at the sight. The man was a thug, a killer, a demon! I had no business feeling pride over the fact that he liked my biscuits.

“They are easy to bake,” I said. “Are there no biscuits in hell? Even for demons?”

Voren shook his head. “No. In Hell, you have to fight to the death for every tiny comfort, and there’s still not much to fight for. Hell, Rosha, was made for suffering. I don’t recommend.”