No need for perfume amidst fragrant bark and flowers; no need for sheets against the soft earth. The dappled shade of a leafy canopy. Wind against bare skin. She seduced the gardener and then sent him away a broken man, forever looking over his shoulder in the distant hope that she might be looking back at him. In peace she explored the rest of the grounds: its maze of paths, the dreamward arch of trees overhead. Under the roots of a silver birch she buried the man’s soul, a gold coin etched with his visage and his name. She didn’t bother remembering either. Neither men nor demonkind pleased her these days. Restless, she’d left Hellsgate, the city of demons, and ventured farther into the mortal plane in hopes of finding someone to amuse her. It had been a fruitless quest thus far. She had been the first demon to ever tempt a mortal, and perhaps she was jaded to the game now. She heard a footfall and an extraordinarily handsome man stepped into view, lean and tawny-haired.
