Penelope’s elbow catches me in the stomach.

“There were no tricks,” the demon goes on, “no entrapment! I wasn’t even looking for a husband!”

“We don’t dispute that,” Penelope says.

The demon jabs a paw into Penelope’s shoulder. “He summoned me with a time-tested, legally sound marriage proposal.”

“We stipulate to that fact.”

“He offered his name—and much else that I didn’t require!”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask to see some identification,” Penelope says. “Or attempt any due diligence.”

The demon huffs white smoke into Penelope’s face. “I could kill you both!”

Penelope, unbelievably, steps forward. “You could, but that isn’t what you agreed to do in the case of inadequate disclosure.” She takes another step. “You agreed to invalidate the contract!”

The demon points at me, right over Penelope’s head. “I could elect to honour our covenant, regardless! I will come for you at the appointed hour, and take you on the long journey to my home, where we will be married for all my brethren to see. You will be immortal, because I will take you to a place where your kind cannot live or die.”

Penelope folds her arms. “You could choose to flout the law and disregard the contract … Perhaps your word is as worthless as his.”

The demon howls—the whole building vibrates—and then lumbers across the room to sit on Penelope’s couch. It looks like a woman again. Beautiful. With skin a color my eyes can’t see. And hair like horns, like hair, like a hole.

Penelope takes a breath to say something.

“Quiet,” the demon says. “I’m thinking.”

I really want to apologize or smooth this over somehow. Maybe I should offer the demon something to drink. Penelope must smell it on me; she presses her lips together and shakes her head, hard.

“We’ll amend the agreement,” the demon says, “clarifying his name and the consequences for further dishonesty.”

“I’m not your advocate—” Penelope starts to say.

“Indeed you are not,” the demon snaps. “I was not informed that I’d need representation.”

“—but I’d advise you to take this opportunity to protect your assets.”

“My assets are perfectly secure.”

“I regret to inform you,” Penelope says, sounding a lot like someone who works at the DMV and doesn’t feel any regret at all, “that this man comes to you with many debts.”

“He disclosed no debts!”

“He wasn’t asked to!”

“Any debt he owes in this world will be meaningless in mine!”

“He has promised someone else his firstborn,” Penelope regrets to inform it.

“His firstborn…” The demon widens into a hole that consumes the couch. Its voice is a devastation. “Shepard, how could you!”

“I wasn’t planning on having kids,” I mumble.

“Also his thirdborn,” Penelope adds. Crisp as hell. “As well as countless other debts and promises, some of them owed beyond death to creatures who live nearly forever.”