Free Wicked Game by Bethan Tear Page A

knew it, and now Hazelle knew it too.
                  “What can I do? There must be a spell, or an incantation, or something . Please, you have to help me,” Hazelle pleaded, tears making her voice crack.
                  Marguerite turned over one of the cards, cringed, and replaced it.
                  “There is no spell. No incantation. No choice,” she spoke matter-of-factly, with no sympathy, “You summoned the demon for a reason and he will not return to the underworld until that reason is fulfilled.”
                  “You mean I have to...to...”
                  Hazelle swallowed, a painful lump in her throat, unable to finish the sentence because if she did, if she said it out loud, for somebody else to hear, that it would make it seem like the only solution. Her only choice.
                  “Yes, child. Your way forward is clear. You have no choice. No second chances. No hope of salvation.”
                  Marguerite leaned forwards over the counter, her pale eyes scary and serious.
                  “You have to give him what he wants.”
     

Chapter Five
                 
    “ I told you there was no spell.”
                  “I know.”
                  “I told you there was no other way.”
                  “I know.”
                  “I told you countless times and still you did not listen.”
                  “ I know. ”
                  Hazelle whirled around frustrated and devastated, almost knocking over the pile of dry laundry she had been folding as a distraction. Kaden was leant against the opposite wall, one foot up against it, giving him all the appearance of that idle, insolent arrogance she loathed in all gorgeous men, and more so in him. She currently couldn't stand the sight of him. It was like he was immune to her emotions, to anything human, as if nothing touched him, not her anger, or her disgust, or her fear. She was already stressed from her earlier encounter with Chris and reeling from the confirmation that there was no magic to release Kaden from her services.
                  She had told him only of the later concern, not knowing how he would react to Chris, or to her past, not wanting to invoke a jealous rage in him. She knew what men were like from reading trashy magazines on her lunch break and listening to office gossip. When men thought another man was moving in on their territory they became aggressive, reverting to the territorial beasts that had once roamed the earth. Hazelle was surprised some men didn't just piss up a woman's leg to claim them and warn off other males, and though Hazelle belonged to no man she wasn't foolish enough to purposely provoke a demon.
                  Bundling up the clean bedsheets in her arms she dumped them unfolded into a basket. She could see the shadow of the pentagram on the floor, the one with which she had summoned him, the one she had hoped would play some role in sending him back. Apparently that wasn't to be.
                  She needed to get away from him and so she picked up the basket and stomped up the basement stairs. He followed on her heels, persistent, losing his patience.
                  “You can't run from me,” he drawled, “I won't disappear in a puff of black smoke like you want me to. This isn't the movies, this is real life and I'm not going anywhere until I give you what you want. So what are you going to do about it?”
                  “Nothing,” she said scathingly, dropping the basket on the breakfast bar. She fled from the kitchen as fast as she could, up the stairs and into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her with such force the china dolls on her dresser rattled.
                  Hazelle pressed her back against the door, trying to catch