Page 31 of Demons of Eden

Well, she did tell us to go this way…

“We better hurry if we want to talk before Rio pisses off Marb…Marbas?” I question, unsure which is right.

“Marbas. Though, she did call him Marb,” Torrin confirms. “Sadly, I think you may have the right idea. How fast can a pregnant woman run up that many stairs?”

“You’re laughing if you think I’d ever choose to run up those stairs. I wouldn’t do it regardless of the baby’s existence.”

Daion has been torturing me with more than enough running as it is.He even made me exercise in the morning after I fell asleep on their sofa the other day. The fact he’d had workout clothes in my size felt damn premeditated. He was definitely too prepared for my attempt at skipping out on our planned training for the day.

“Let’s move then.”

By the time we cross the club’s main floor and climb to the top of the four floors of stairs, I’m expecting to find Rio arguing with some poor demon. Instead, we’re greeted by another smaller staircase. It leads up to a platform over the centre of the space that’s suspended from the ceiling by four support beams. From the ground it hadn’t been visible at all, and I wonder if it’s an optical illusion or magic hiding it from the sight of those below.

Howling laughter suddenly reaches my ears, and I shoot a concerned look at Torrin, seeing an unsettled frown on his own face. Clearly, neither of us feels reassured by the sound. Laughter, demons, plus Rio…it doesn’t add up. So, despite my earlier words, we rush over the last small set of stairs and towards the mirthful noise.

Sitting in a large, lavish chair styled like a cushiony red throne is the demon who must be Marbas. His appearance isa little shocking to take in at first, as I hadn't realised it was possible for demons to have albinism. His pale skin, white hair, and reddish-tinged eyes that I would associate with the genetic condition are accompanied by shockingly white horns. The pristine white horns are a feature I’ve never seen on another person, demon or otherwise. They curl over, then back at the sides of his head.

Marbas is holding a nearly full, bright green drink clutched in his pale hand, despite laughing so hard it’s a miracle he’s not spilt it all over himself. Though, he’s dressed partially in a similar shade of green, so maybe he’s lost a few drops and it just isn’t noticeable. I wonder what’s tickled him so hard.

“You can’t be. It’s impossible,” Rio growls at the still-laughing demon as we step up onto the platform, his eyes only briefly flickering over to us. There’s a barrier around the perimeter of the platform, high enough to stop someone accidentally walking right off the edge, but low enough to allow seeing the entire club from this vantage point. The thought crosses my mind that this would be the perfect spot for a voyeur, and I wonder if it’s the intention of the design or simply a happy coincidence.

“Very possible, I’m afraid,” Marbas replies mirthfully, and then glances over at us. “More friends here to see little old me?”

“We’re not friends!”

“Well, I’ve already told you why we can’t be anything more than that, dear one,” the demon replies genially to Rio, with a sharp grin that looks admittedly a little bit unhinged despite the pleasant tone.

“Don’t call me…just…ugh!”Rio smacks the side of his fist against one of the support beams holding the platform from the ceiling, turning to Torrin after. He looks at him imploringly, as if he’ll somehow rescue him from whatever the hell this situation is. When Torrin doesn’t do anything, he huffs and storms off tothe far side of the platform, focusing very intently on the people below.

With Rio apparently giving himself a timeout, it looks like Torrin and I will have to talk to this guy ourselves. Honestly, it will probably be easier for us to do it without him while he sulks over…whatever it is he’s managed to get so huffy about in the few minutes we were apart. Though, between his riled-up attitude and what I overheard earlier, I can’t help but think he really should have sat this one out from the start.

“Well, Rio may not want to be friends, but consider me your new bestie. I don’t know how you managed to shut him up for once, but I’m impressed,” I say warmly, deciding it’s a good idea to make nice with the first demon who might actually be able to tell me where the hell Ash is. If it has to come at the cost of irritating Rio further, it’s not as if he doesn’t hate me already.

“Well, aren’t you far more charming than your companion? What is your name, little dove?” Marbas asks, standing to greet me. The movement draws more attention to his outfit, and while the various beings we passed on our way up here were in all manners of dress, orundressin many cases, his choice in clothes raises my brows. A green velvet suit jacket over leather pants is…certainly a choice.

“It’s Eden.” After a second’s thought, I reach out my hand to offer a handshake, freezing when he brings it to his lips to kiss instead. Despite my apprehension, he doesn’t linger or make it weirder than necessary, quickly releasing his grip on my hand as he returns to his seat. A difference in mannerisms then, rather than an attempt to make me uncomfortable.

“A delight to meet you, Eden. I am Marbas, and this is my wonderful club. I assume, despite your more pleasant introduction, you’re also here because you have questions for me?”

“I do, though I’m sorry if he was rude about it. His brother told me he’s been that way ever since he was dropped on his head as a toddler. It’s a shame that the following drops didn’t reverse the problem, though they keep on trying,” I reply solemnly with a conspiring smile, ignoring the sound of Torrin’s amused reaction, quickly muffled by his hand. The irritated tapping of Rio’s fingers against the barrier increases in volume, but he doesn’t openly object or retort to the comment, so I figure he probably understands my intent in saying it.

That, or he’s busy planning my demise.

“Sadly, I doubt I’ll be much use in answering your questions. Your companion said you’re seeking a demon who goes by…hmm. Tash, was it?”

“Ash,” I correct him, despite suspecting the fumble of his name was completely intentional. “He’s an incubus,” I add, just in case Rio hadn’t mentioned it already.

“An incubus, and so you just assumed that means he frequents my club?” he questions in a vaguely derisive tone, setting his drink onto the table before leaning right back into his plush seat. He’s a little too quick in his jump to dismissiveness for it to feel genuine, but I swallow the bubble of annoyance threatening to burst out of me.

“No. Actually, a friend of ours suggested that you may know each other,” I reply, resisting the urge to ask him who’s the one making assumptions now.

“Did they now?” he questions, humming thoughtfully. “I know a lot of my fellow incubi. However, I don’t recall one by the name of Ash. Though, I have to confess I’m a bit curious, who was your friend?”

“Eligos,” Torrin answers, sparing me the moral debate over whether or not I was supposed to keep Eli’s help a secret. “Though, he’s a praeresum, not an incubus. He was informedof your acquaintance with Ash by a succubi called Niya. Do you know her?”

“I do,” Marbas confirms, sighing deeply before continuing, “Such a chatty young girl, and apparently misinformed chatter at that. Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you all, but she must have been confused. A simple mix-up of names, I can only assume. I don’t know anyone called Ash.”

“I don’t believe you.”

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