That Damn Imp Ch. 11

Vengeance Koshka had in spades, if not against Puck, then people who deserved it. She sought out people in need of succor for their rage and grief, whispering her name into their ears or leaving them something akin to a calling card so that they could invoke her, as the ancient laws of magic dictated. Coming to them in her demonic form and outright offering them vengeance – or whatever a magical being's provenance was – was breaking that law, but like Puck, she could work her way through the loopholes of the laws that bound magical folk.

A thirteen-year-old Thai girl, sold into prostitution by her father, had her vengeance against the men who imprisoned her, abused her, and rented her out to others for further abuse.

In Mexico near the border, a man who had lost his wife and several other family members in the crossfire of a war between rival drug lords left a swath of destruction behind him that so horrified the remaining drug lords in the area that they quickly saw the wisdom of moving their enterprises elsewhere.

A Japanese housewife whose successful, hard-working husband was murdered by Yakuza hired by his jealous brother, and who had endured threats against herself and her children by said brother-in-law, now no longer had to worry about her brother-in-law – or the rest of the men who had been involved in her husband's murder, in fact.

A father in Africa whose albino daughter had been attacked, her forearm amputated by black-market poachers, reaped the arms and legs of the ones responsible for his child's mutilation.

After several days of granting people an outlet to avenge their pain, she felt much better. She had spent herself in making the world a bit of a better place, and felt the cool shingles of the roof under her back as she stared up at the stars, listening to a distant scream. It was a relatively warm night here in Istanbul, and the scream mingled with the noise from nearby streets where cars sped around at this late hour.

The gecekondu bölgesi – essentially one of the slums of the largest city in Turkey – attracted refugees and poor folks alike, and unemployment furthered the desperate situations that often could – and did – exist. Crime was a natural consequence, and naturally there would be victims looking for redress. The siren of an ambulance cut through the general din that made up the noises of the slum. The smell of petrol, garbage, and cooking rode through the night air on an occasional breeze, and Koshka let out a slow breath.

The high of vengeance led to a crash, and though she knew it was time, it didn't make actually sitting down and thinking about Malcolm/Puck any easier. He was a man she had been prepared to share her life with, and finding out that the man she loved was the imp she'd had an on-and-off crush for centuries... well, she was certain that would fall in the category of a mind-fuck.

What was she supposed to do now? Simply forgive the imp for his deception – which he obviously hoped for – or shut him out of her life entirely? As angry as she was with him – justifiably so – she did not relish that idea. As much as she tried, she couldn't forget Puck's mournful, regretful expression. Knowing he was honestly sad about how he had hurt her annoyed her, because it would have been a lot easier to nurse the desire to rip his head off if this had simply been a game to him.

A year she had been with him. And a happy year it had been. Even though there had been certain aspects of herself she didn't share with Malcolm, she still had trusted him more than she'd trusted anybody else. If she believed in the whole idea of soul mates, she would have said he was the one.

"Damnit," she muttered to herself before pulling her smartphone out of her jacket. She'd barely glanced at it over the last few days, ignoring emails and messages from clients and acquaintances. A quick perusal of her inbox showed nothing had been sent from Malcolm's number. But then, as goofy as he could be, Puck was at least intelligent enough to know better than to try and contact her when she was so angry. That was definitely a point in his favor. A very small point, but a point nonetheless.

Spent from the wishes she'd granted over the last few days, she had no inclination to send the imp a message via magical means. Fortunately, in this day and age, she could contact him instantaneously by conventional means. Tapping the screen, she highlighted Malcolm's number, and her finger tapped the screen again in quick succession as she typed out a message.

'We need to talk'

She hit Send and sighed, resting the phone on her chest. Would he have the phone on him at that moment, or would he have set it aside for a time? She leaned her head back, staring at the night sky.

She startled as the phone buzzed against her chest. She lifted it, glancing at the screen. It was from him.

'Choose the time and place' was his simple reply.

'Here and now'

After several moments, she felt the buzz in the air as Puck teleported, shifting reality about a bit as he moved from nearly the other side of the world in two steps.

He was garbed in his usual rustic old fashion, although it looked like he had dressed up for her. His tunic was white silk, and his pants were dark green velvet, loose enough to be comfortable, but snug enough to outline his thighs and offer viewers a subtle hint to his endowment. She felt her heart skip a beat as she regarded him, and her head swam for a moment before she focused on him.

Before he could greet her, another siren cut through the air, and Puck glanced towards it casually as he sat near her on the roof, just out of reach.

Returning his attention to her, she saw a mixture of warmth, concern, and apprehension in his open gaze.

"Hello, Venjanca. I see you've been busy," he said softly. "I saw that article a couple of days ago about the Japanese woman, in a newspaper. And on TV, that father in Africa. And really nice job in Mexico. This one will make it to the media soon enough. Ah, the wonders of technology." He pulled Malcolm's smartphone from inside his shirt.

"How times have changed," she replied dryly. "I figured it was best to deal with my anger in a more productive way. And I made the world a bit of a better place. In my own unique way, of course."

"People say revenge's a bitch, but I know personally she can be a total sweetheart." He batted her eyes at her, and she had to fight back a smile. Quickly, she schooled her face into a frown.

"Before we go any further, there is one thing I must know," she stated. Puck's expression hardened slightly into a serious cant, and the eye-batting was replaced with a steady gaze before he nodded.

"Did you enjoy the things we did together as mundane folk? Or was that all a ploy to get close to me?"

He tapped his chin lightly. "I lied to you for long enough, and I'm not going to any more. Some of the museums we've been to could be boring, but I was much more focused on you. Yes, sometimes I felt stifled by having to be Malcolm, but that was more about deciding on a more... Malcolm-ish response or action than where we were or what we were doing. There was nothing we did that I had to force myself to do. I enjoyed being with you, and doing things we had a mutual interest in, or showing one another new things. Frankly, being with you has been incredible and while Malcolm may have been a disguise, everything else has been the truth."

She felt her lips quirking up in a small smile. "I'm impressed you pulled Malcolm off so well. All that neatness and OCD..."

Puck snorted at that. "It was a meticulous construct. Took me over a month to build the physical form. And it gave me time to think about what you said about me being silly and irresponsible and so I focused on just... aiming for the total opposite."

"Total opposite? That would have made Malcolm a shitty dancer," she reminded him.

"Aha. There's that." Puck nodded with a gleam in his eye. "And remember, you encouraged me to expand my boundaries?"

"Ah jeez."

"See," he pointed out gently. "I put bits of my true self into Malcolm as I got to know you better and you relaxed more around me, and you liked me even more. See, Malcolm and I really are not that different. Neither are you and I."

She turned her head from him, staring over the rooftops, pulling her knees loosely to her chest and folding her arms over them. "So... what now?"

"Well, you haven't set me on fire or come at me with a sharp, pointy object. I think it's safe to say we're doing well so far."

Despite her best efforts to keep a poker face, Koshka was unable to hold back a short laugh before lapsing into silence, continuing to stare out at the city.

"What does happen now though? Do you go back to rebuffing all of my advances for the next few centuries? Although I'd understand, after what I did. I have no right to expect a reinstatement of our relationship." He let out a somber breath, glancing downwards for several moments.

He shrugged. "I've grown up a little. But just a little. Can't have too much of a good thing, you know?" He winked at her. He seemed to want to draw closer to her, but was waiting for a cue.

"I have to admit, I'm impressed with your patience. What was it that made you keep coming back? Did you just like my bitchiness? But then, you proved to be a bit of a masochist in the bedroom..."

Puck laughed. "No. It was everything else. You're smart. And pretty. And funny. And strong. And sexy," he raised his eyebrows playfully. "There's a lot to like about you," he nodded as if he had said something thoughtful, his eyes going half-lidded. "And human-you had plenty of treats too. Like seeing how googly-eyed you get over kittens. Or your kindness to Mrs. Voorhees, bringing her soup and all that. Honestly, it all just adds up to one pretty incredible person."

"Well, you certainly do know how to make a girl feel good. I did enjoy hanging out with you... sometimes. When you were Puck, I mean. I guess that says something?"

"It means you always liked me, you just didn't want to acknowledge it."

"No," she shot back quickly. Just a bit too quickly, and she was certain Puck had noticed. For all his playfulness, he was also a perceptive soul. Fortunately, he seemed to have the good grace to not tease her about this. She paused, cutting herself short, not wanting to admit that she'd been too afraid to actually respond to his advances in the way he wanted.

"You don't need to say it if you don't want to." He shifted a bit, and she gave him a brief nod, so he wiggled closer, though there remained about a foot of space between them.

"When you first came into my shop as Malcolm, I was just about ready to hump your leg right then and there. I was shocked at my own reaction, to be honest. I'd never reacted so strongly to anyone before," she admitted.

"So I did good?" he smirked, "There was no magic in that, you know. Our mutual attraction was pure."

"I indeed sensed no magic around you at all, which surprised me even more. I'd think that I would only react that way if someone was using an arousal spell."

"Like I said, the mutual attraction was pure. I would have it no other way," he murmured, arching back on the shingles as he folded his arms behind his head.

"I thought you were cute, even back then. Truth be told, I found you cuter than plenty of demons, and that left me... confused." It was no secret, at least among magical kind, that fae and demons generally didn't mix. Not that they were enemies, but the two races seemed to be like oil and water, one could bring them together for some time, but they never truly mixed. Both races also tended to find their own kind attractive, demons tended to like scary things like horns and spikes while fae went for the more 'pretty' look.

"Did you now?" he teased, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Of course, you are a hottie in your real form, too. All shiny, and blue, and beautiful. Not like all those gross, scabby demons," he wrinkled his nose.

"Some of these scabby faces were pretty good lovers, I'll have you know," Koshka replied in mock indignation. "You can't judge others by their appearance. Though I'll grant you're a better lover than any I've ever had."

"Mmm, what did I tell you?" he teased. "I knew you'd enjoy me if you gave me a chance."

"I'm still angry about the deception... but I'll give you the chance to earn my forgiveness."

"And what do I need to do to win back your heart?" His gaze was earnest and serious as he leaned forward.

Koshka smiled a little. "I want Malcolm back."

Puck blinked. "Alright. I will do my best to earn your forgiveness. I will be the best Malcolm there ever was." He stated this with a flourish of his hand, before his expression became serious again as he regarded her. "You want Malcolm. I want you. If you get time with him, then do I get time with you? As the real me?"

Koshka stared at him as she pondered his questions, and he spoke again in a quieter voice. "Remember, Malcolm is also Puck. Time with Malcolm you will have, but you know who he is now. I care for you very deeply, and I also want to show you that as... I am."

Koshka was silent for several moments, regarding him with a similar thoughtful glance. This was the man who had pursued her for over a millennium, the one she had rebuffed more times than she could remember. Yet her time with Malcolm was not something she would give up for anything else. She stroked her chin thoughtfully, and he gave her a curious, eager glance, a very Puckish expression.

"What if I said no? It's Malcolm that wooed me, that I brought to my bed, and came to see a future with." Koshka countered gently. "You did say you would do anything to earn my forgiveness."

He took a deep breath, apparently contemplating his options. She waited patiently.

They locked gazes for several moments before he spoke. "When I said I was all yours, I meant it. If that is what it takes to be with you and make you happy..." His eyes moved to the ground as his voice delivered his words in a soft but steady tone, "then it is what I must do."

"That you are wiling to do so... you have made it clear how deeply you care for me," she whispered.

"What can I say, I'm completely head over heels for you." Though his tone was light, Koshka sensed a faint edge, a grim acceptance of the consequences of his actions.

Wow. I guess he really has matured, she observed as she stroked her chin.

"You may remain Puck for now," she conceded. "For this meeting."

He wiggled his brows, and they lapsed into several minutes of silence, enjoying the breeze that blew across the rooftops, giving them some relief from the thick warm air.

When he shifted closer, she made no objection, and he settled beside her so that their shoulders were lightly touching. When he leaned his head against her shoulder, she stiffened a bit but did not pull away.

"I missed you. I was really worried about you and wanted to talk to you, to explain things. But I knew you needed the time," Puck whispered. "I meant everything I've ever told you as Malcolm or myself. I care about you very deeply. I want a future with you. I actually considered proposing as Malcolm, for a mundane marriage and all but..." He shook his head. "Figured that was something best done without any... misconception."

"Good call," she said dryly, glancing at him. "Would you have come to me eventually, if I hadn't messaged you?"

"You know it. Because honestly, I didn't want to leave things lingering between us... not just for me, but for you. You were very unhappy and angry... and I certainly didn't want to keep you that way. Again, I'm really sorry for the trouble I caused you. Any trouble I've ever caused you, in fact."

She regarded him with a wistful smile.

"That's a good start."

"Anything for you, kitten. But you already know that, don't you?"

She raised her eyebrow a bit at the endearment that was familiar from Malcolm's lips. Puck realized what he had just done a moment later and smiled a little.

"I call you kitten because a cat is various things. As a demon, you're like a fierce saber-tooth tiger, ready to go with big, sharp claws. Rawr!" He swiped one hand through the air. "But cats are also cute and cuddly and fun to play with. Behind these scary fangs and claws is a cat that I know likes to be petted and loved."

She huffed softly, looking away so he wouldn't see the twinkle in her eye.

"There's nothing wrong with admitting you like a good cuddle and massage now and then. I've always admired you. My attraction to you has been no secret. Big cats are beautiful creatures, all that grace and danger..." At that, he swiped his hand through the air again, albeit in a slower manner, "but it's the little ones that I like the best. But don't worry. I won't tell anyone that you were the sex kitten to the Puck. I know you have your reputation to protect and all, so my lips are sealed." With a theatrical flourish, he twirled his finger against his lips in the almost universal gesture of 'my lips are sealed'.

"The only illusion about Malcolm was the appearance. Everything I've told you about my feelings for you has been the absolute truth. I value and respect your privacy. Besides, I'd have to be a total idiot to not guess what would happen if word started getting around and I'd sooner keep my hide intact, you know. My fear of you is surpassed only by my love."

She let out a slow sigh. That had indeed been one of her biggest fears. His reputation as a fey lover was not without substance, and she'd kept an ear cocked to the magical sphere after Malcolm's reveal, but she had heard nothing of the Puck or his doings.

"Not that you're not worth bragging about, but you know..." He pressed a finger to his lips. Well, for a year he had proven just that.

"Is that the love or fear speaking?" she shot back dryly as she looked at him.

"A little of both?" he asked, rolling his shoulders in a shrug, batting his eyes at her.

"Hmph." A smirk tugged at the corner of her lip.

"... So, just to be clear, you know that I'm all yours. I love you. I've never said that to anyone else before, nor had I ever considered it. You know what kind of being I am. My reputation and all that. But I've never been known to be a liar, and there's good reason for that."

She nodded slowly. He had left a few broken hearts in his wake, but not because of any promises he'd made, or any effort to lead others on. He'd offered pleasure and attention, and if past lovers had chosen to read more into that, he wasn't to blame for that. After all, she'd had several men – human or demon – become besotted with her to the point of declaring love even if she'd given no indication of desiring as such, so she could hardly judge him for similar circumstances.

"I know." She looked up at the stars, feeling his gaze. They sat there in silence for several minutes, and amidst the noises from the city, she could hear his quiet breathing, and feel his very presence so near her.

"Is there anything you would like?" Puck ventured.

"Not at the moment, thank you." There were things she wanted, but she was afraid to ask for them. There was still plenty to think about, and her insides still felt raw.

"... Should I leave now?" he asked hesitantly. She glanced over her shoulder at him, feeling a fresh tug at her heart as she studied him. Anger clashed with need, and she swallowed back the lump that had begun to form in her throat.

As if he was aware of what she felt, he gave her a small, apologetic smile. "I guess I should take that as a yes." His fingers ghosted over the tiles before coning to rest on her wrist. When she felt him tug at her hand, she did not resist, and he lifted her hand to stare down at it before looking back at her. He seemed as if he wanted to kiss her hand, but he simply placed his other hand on top of hers.