Page 109 of Song of Her Siren

He cleared his throat again while praying she didn’t turn him to ash. “The siren’s alpha, Draevyn Inferni, is not possessed by one of ours.”

The growl that came out of her caused moisture to drip into his underpants. “Who, then?”

“A powerful demon with the unfamiliar name of Mephis,” he blurted, then tensed, awaiting his fate.

Her deadly hiss rattled his eardrums. “Do we know if it’s The Darkness?”

He nodded. “He has complete control over the firemage’s body.” And who else but The Darkness could wield such power over a host body the moment he possessed them?

Her eyes flared red. “Send demons to destroy him.”

He clenched his hands, repressing the urge to set her aflame before she killed him. It wouldn’t do any good. His blood bond would cook him alive before he could kill her. “I have already tried.”

“And?”

“My spies are terrified of him,” he answered truthfully, then berated himself. When had she ever awarded him for his honesty?

Her lips pulled back in a wicked snarl. “Burn out the eyes of anyone who refuses to kill Mephis.”

It wouldn’t work. They’d rather lose their eyes than their souls. “Y-yes, Mistress.”

Her low growl burrowed into his bones. “Why do you hesitate?”

“You know how hard Mephis is to kill.” He regretted the edge of panic that had slipped into his voice. She would see it as a weakness and use it to her advantage.

“Of course, I do.” She snorted. “Why do you think I fled hell? Why did any of us flee hell?”

“And even if we killed him, what’s to stop him from coming through the mists?” He tensed, dreading her reaction.

She let out a maddening cackle. “If he could come through my mist portals, he would’ve done so already, instead of taking a Fae body.”

He wasn’t so sure, though he decided it best not to argue. Most demons preferred Fae bodies to their demon bodies. His mistress was the only demon he knew who kept her original form. Everything felt better in a Fae body, from eating to breathing to fucking.

Her gaze raked over his body, as if she was assessing his worth. “This would be a good task for the nephilim.”

“It would, but his body is decomposing, and he can’t make the shift.” Not to mention, this particular nephilim was a coward.

“Then find him a new body.” The snap of her maw ricocheted through the cavern.

“I have already commissioned thelasttribe of demonlings to find him another.” He couldn’t contain his bitterness that they were down to just one tribe of demonic spiders, no thanks to his mistress, who’d squandered away the rest with her careless maneuvers.

“Good.” She rubbed her claws together. “Make sure the replacement body is a corpse. The siren can’t control the living dead with her voice. Once he’s in the new corpse, send him after The Darkness. I don’t care if they bring that entire castle down. Mephis must be killed at any cost.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He took a step back, bowing low.

“Bring me the mage, Thorin.” She threw the covers off the bed, revealing her hairy, distended belly as a malodorous funk wafted from her crotch. “I need more than virgin blood to recover my strength. It’s time I took his power for myself.”

Gordin took a step back, then another. He was almost out of her line of fire before she called, “And it’s time we recruited the Terrae. Send the demonlings after them.”

Gordin swallowed, his gut churning with unease. “Which Terrae?”

She waved him away like she was shooing a fly. “All of them, from the wolf shifters in Windhaven to the half-bloods in Cyrene. Leave no Terrae untouched.”

Gordin shook his head. “I will send my demons after the other Terrae, but the satyr village has disappeared.”

Her head snapped back, that third eye narrowing on him. “Where did they go?”

He did his best to keep the tremors from his voice. “I don’t know. Perhaps one of the white witches used a spell to disguise them.”

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