They awake to the scent of blood and salt, rich and dark in their circle. A crossroad, they note with scorn. Of all the places to be summoned, a crossroad. We’ll be having words with HR for this, they grumble. Still, it has been eons since they were last summoned. It’s good to get up and stretch. Now, the summoning – they look ahead and are wholly unimpressed. It is not a seasoned summoner who has awakened them, not even one of those incensed devil worshippers. Instead, it is a girl wearing a dirty hoodie and jeans, shaking like a leaf. “Holy shit that worked,” she breathes out in a huff.

“What were you expecting?” their head cocks as they take her in. She is young, scent still fresh, and so anxious they can feel it. She laughs like she’s choking.

“You – you can talk, oh jeez.” She runs a hand through her hair, curls stringy with grease, and blinks rapidly. “Hi? I’m Aeryn – wait, are you hungry? Do you eat? I probably should’ve put some kind of offering down before summoning you, but I didn’t think you’d come, y’know?” She makes to move forward but catches herself. “Wait – circle, can’t break the circle.”

“Did you come here to play games, or did you come to make a deal?” they ask, fed up with her rambling.

“Sorry, sorry – the deal. I summoned you to make a deal – my soul for my family.” Her eyes tighten at the corners. “I want you to bring them back.” The scent of pain rises as she speaks, and they almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

“No can do, princess,” they reply, and her sorrow turns to shock.

“No can – what do you mean, no can do? You’re a demon, now bring them back!”

“I don’t think you read the rulebook very well – even demons have their limits. I can’t bring back the dead unless their souls were sent to hell. I might be able to reanimate the bodies if they’re fresh enough, but there’s no telling who or what will come back in them.” Her shoulders shake, and she crumples forward on herself. It’s moments like these where being in a summoning circle really blows – what they’d give to make an escape. After a moment, she composes herself. She wipes her eyes and draws her shoulders back, standing tall once more.

“Thank you, I guess,” she begins (who says thank you to a demon?), “I guess you can go on your way.” Their lip curls in disgust.

“Do you know anything about demons, mortal?”

“The name’s Aeryn,” she snarks back, “and… not really?” Amateurs, I tell you.

“Well, if you did even an ounce of research, you’d know that I can’t leave. Once a demon is summoned, they are bound to the summoner until a deal is met.”

“Wait, seriously?” Her skin pales in fear.

“Yeah sweetcheeks,” her face sours at the pet name, “so either think of something else, or we’ll be stuck here for a while.” She purses her cheeks and then snaps.

“Wait, you’re bound to me, right?” They slowly nod. “That just means that you go wherever I do.” Without a second thought, she walks over to the circle that is the only thing keeping her from them and kicks at the salt, effectively breaking it. They gawk at her recklessness, but she just grins. “Come on then!” She begins to walk away, and they are forced to follow.

Her house isn’t much of one, they note absently. She lives in a shoebox of an apartment, overlooking a crowded street. Her walls are paper-thin, and she’s boxed in by the screams of couples arguing and the guttural moans of couples making up. It’s sad and dirty, even for them, and they came from the depths of Hell. She throws her bag to the floor, flips on her one sad light, and beams at them.    

“This is me! It’s not that big of a place and the furniture’s all super creaky, but the landlord’s nice and the shower’s decent.” She absent-mindedly picks at the clutter on her table and glances up at them.      

“I’ve been so impolite! What’s your name?”

“My… name?”

“Not your spooky devil name, I know I’m not supposed to ask you that or give you mine. I just mean, what should I call you?” They stop to think for a minute. In all this time, with all their deals, they’ve never had a name. They can’t even think of names to choose from. The confusion must be evident on their features, as she smiles and waves it off. “How about you think about it, and I’ll call you Dev?” They nod, and she putters off into her sad excuse of a kitchen. They are left alone – this girl’s actions grow curiouser and curiouser.

They amble into her bathroom with its dirty shower and cracked mirrors, and finally catch a glimpse of their vessel. They are tall, with masculine features and a wiry build. Their eyes are a rich hazel, alit with a gold most unnatural, and their lips are thin – overall not the worst. To be honest, this form seems to mirror that of the girl’s, both having darker skin and the same turn of the nose. Intriguing indeed…

“Dev!” she calls, and they are pulled from their reverie. In the kitchen, she has two plates, fixed with eggs and toast. “Breakfast for dinner?”

“You do know I don’t need to eat, right?” they ask. She pauses for a moment, fork in hand, and then shrugs.

“Just because you don’t doesn’t mean you can’t,” she replies, gesturing with her fork, “now give it a go.” They bring the fork to their lips and take a bite. Their mouth explodes with the flavor of butter and salt, and they only notice the sounds they are making when she chuckles smugly. “Good, right?” They do not dignify her with an answer. (They do, however, ask for seconds.)

They end up striking a bargain. They don’t bother her at school, she doesn’t loiter around late at night. They try and remember to ask for her soul, making up hypothetical deals and suggestions, but she just waves them away. However, as the days progress, they begin to forget, more interested in the modern age. There’s just so much new food to try. They spend weeks eating through the fast food chains, sitting in dirty booths at McDonald’s with fries and McFlurries. Dev realizes they have a bit of a sweet tooth that day. When she is at school, Dev spends their time in the apartment, fixing uneven chairs and leaky pipes. The magic they should be using on deals and soul-stealing gets relegated to cleaning grouts and soundproofing (the couple in 7C spend an unreasonable amount of time making up). There are moments when they look at themselves in shame, a demon being reduced to a simple housemaid, but then Aeryn shows up with takeout from a place she passed on the way back, and it doesn’t seem all that bad.

“Your family,” they ask one night, “what happened to them?” The coffee table Dev found one day during classes is littered with the remains of the night’s tikka masala and naan. Aeryn’s face turns sorrowful, and she draws her knees up to her chest.

“There was a fire,” she murmurs, “but I wasn’t there. I snuck out that night to go to some stupid party.” Her eyes grow glassy with tears. “I never got to say goodbye.”

“I’m sorry,” they murmur, and to their surprise, they really are. Dev stuffs their face with more sauce-soaked naan.

“It hasn’t been quite as bad,” she confesses, grinning at them. “I haven’t felt this okay in a long time.” The silence in the room grows warm, and they are shocked to find that they aren’t all that mad at it.

(She brings Dev out to see them, a foggy Saturday. Her hands tremble as she passes over each stone, but tears never leave her eyes. They get ice cream afterward, and she asks, “How the hell are you paying for all of this food?” They grin and flash their eyes.

“I’m a demon, baby. Money’s never a question.” Dev then steals a bite of her scoop, and a smile finally crosses her lips.)

Good things can only last for so long. One second, they’re convincing her that no Aeryn, sushi is always good, no matter what time of day, and the next second, they’re surrounded by hunters, bound by salt and blood. The irony doesn’t escape Dev for a moment. “Tell us your name,” one commands, the other spitting verses in Latin.

“It’s Dev,” they reply, the brunt of the spellwork bringing them to their knees. The polyglot flips a page and starts anew, jeez this verse was always a kicker. Blood Dev didn’t even know they had drips from their lips, staining their teeth and the shirt they got from Aeryn – these fools won’t know what hit them.

“Don’t play dumb with us, demon!” They’re splashed with holy water, and they rear back with a hiss. Their eyes scan the room, it’s been a while and still no sign of her.

“Where is Aeryn?” Dev chokes, head bowing.

“The girl is safe from your wiles, now tell us your name!” The chants renew with vigor, and they can feel themselves slipping – keepyournamekeepyournamedontletthemknoworyoullleaveheralone. They start seeing spots in their vision when there’s a crash from the side.

“DEV!” Aeryn screams, throwing herself at the hunters. She’s smart, getting the one who was chanting those godawful verses down first, before kicking the line that binds them. She reaches for their hand and with the last of their strength, they’re back in their shoebox of a home. Dev stumbles onto the couch with a groan, Aeryn fast on her feet beside them. “You,” she starts, smacking them in the chest, “are NEVER allowed to do that again, you hear me?” Dev makes to joke, but she rubs a sleeve over her eyes.

“I’ll try my best,” they respond.

“This… this was because I haven’t made a deal, isn’t it?” she asks, and they hesitantly nod.

“If we were contracted, they wouldn’t be able to hurt me without hurting you,” they explain. “Since I’m just bound to you, they might’ve assumed that I was hostile. Many of my siblings are, so I can’t blame them.” She nods and then straightens up.

“If that’s the case, I want to make a deal.” They look up at her in alarm. “My soul for my best friend. For my family.” Their eyes begin to well up with tears. “My soul for you.”

“I think I can do that, princess.”