Page 27 of Dark Prince

“Why is that?” I ask, pacing the room. “Why are so many new demons arriving now? You’ve had your hands full. You can barely manage to lead the demons you already have living in your territory. You would only call more up here if you were desperate for backup to help you maintain order, which youshouldbe, but aren’t. I know all about your shady deals, Havek. I know you’ve been holding on to your control by a thread for years, and that the influx of demons has snapped that thread.”

He snarls, not quite at me, but in my general direction. I continue, stopping in front of the table where he’s bound so that I can watch his face closely as I speak again.

“To be honest, Havek, I don’t think you’d call for reinforcements even if you could guarantee that they would assist you rather than increase your troubles. That would require a certain amount of humility and perspective, neither of which you possess.”

He mumbles a curse under his breath, activating the wards that reinforce the bindings on his wrists. They light up and hiss, sizzling and smoking as they neutralize whatever it was he attempted to do.

Satisfaction flares inside me at his clear desperation, and I press on, determined to get the answers I need.

I’m not the only demon who’s chosen to live on Earth instead of Hell. When I left Hell to escape my father’s endless war with Heaven, I became the de facto ruler of the demons on Earth. Every year, there’s a small trickle of new arrivals, other demons who’ve decided they’d rather live topside than down below.

But lately, that trickle has turned into a steady stream, and I need to know why.

“It’s easy to see why demons would flock to your territory,” I drawl, raising a brow. “You’re hosting a demonic frat party, no rules, no limits. But that doesn’t explain why they’re Earthside in the first place. Any thoughts, Havek?”

His dark eyes burn. He’s radiating displeasure and discomfort, but the little worm still isn’t talking. Iknowhe knows things. It’s how he got to where he is: by listening where he shouldn’t and learning things he has no business knowing, to use for personal gain. He’s a snake, a manipulator, a dirty dealer, but he isn’t particularly intelligent. If he was, he would realize that keeping his mouth shut won’t earn him any favors worth having, not even from the demons he’s protecting—because he isn’t going to be around long enough to cash in.

“Are they sick of Cephalus’s shit? Bored of my father’s obsessive, incessant war on Heaven? That I could understand. Hell, story of my life, right?” I flash him a grin, and he responds only by cowering away from me a little and spitting on the floor. “They talk to you, Havek. They complain to you. What are they saying? Why are the rats jumping ship?”

Havek’s face spreads into a nasty grin, and for the first time since I came down here, he looks me in my eye. “Why don’t you go to Hell and find out for yourself?”

A cool, dark grin of my own stretches across my lips as I utter the satisfying words, “You first.”

I snap my fingers, and with a crack of static and a flash of burning sulfur and ozone, Havek is gone. A smoking smudge is all that’s left of him Earthside. Somewhere in Hell, he’s crashing around and gnashing his teeth. I hope he’s landed in a molten pit or a demon training ground, where he’ll be torn limb from limb. I’d have done it myself if I was willing to perform the necessary clean-up.

I exit the room and give my men a swift, threatening look. They should all be aware, deep down, that I’d do the same to any of them in an instant if they give me reason to. The looks on their faces tell me the message has hit home.

“Redistribute his territory,” I order them as I brush past. “And clean up his mess.”

The elevator closes on the snappy chorus of affirmatives. My foul mood only gets worse as the elevator rises up out of the depths of the office building and back into the sun. Keeping these damned Earthside demons in line has become my full-time job lately, and my various regional commanders have all been playing fast and loose with their power dynamics. Havek was the worst, but he’s far from the only one making mistakes like these.

If they’re mistakes at all.

The one possible explanation for the influx of demons on Earth that I didn’t mention to Havek is also the most likely… and the least palatable.

Battles between Heaven and Hell generally take place on Earth, mostly in the form of surreptitious spy games and working through mortal agents. Every few decades or so, though, a full-fledged battle will occur and set off chain reactions which rock the mortal world for ages to come. Their scientists analyze it, their community leaders attempt to explain it, their governments either accelerate the damage or attempt to mitigate it. Then, later, the legends and conspiracy theories develop.

Some are close to the truth, most are pure nonsense.

Gearing up for those battles takes a lot of preparation. The more mortals there are, feeding either side, the stronger the players. Demons come to Earth, infiltrating the mortal world, sowing chaos, disrupting all sense of security. Fear and hatred empower the agents of Hell, while faith and kindness empower the agents of Heaven.

At least, that’s what tradition dictates.

Whether the influx of new demons is the early warning of an upcoming battle on Earth or simple mismanagement on Havek’s part, the chaos of it is disrupting my work life. Regardless of the reason for it, it’s something that will need to be watched closely and handled carefully.

Which makes this a terrible time to have taken on a mortal personal assistant.

Sophia’s image bursts in full and living color into my head as I pass the thirty-ninth floor. She’s working with Naamah today, being trained on some aspect of the business or other. I passed her off this morning when I knew I would, once again, be busy downstairs. Sherri has been complaining about ‘babysitting’ the new girl, which likely means she’s making Sophia’s life a living hell. Handing her off to Naamah was the best move to avoid office drama this morning.

Yet I regret making that decision. There’s no cure for irritability quite as effective as watching Sophia move in clothes suited to her.

Fuck. What is it about her?

My cock twitches as I picture her in that cream-colored suit, her perfect ass caressed by the soft, inviting fabric.

It isn’t just the nature of my work that’s driven me to avoid her in recent days. It’s the fact that every time I look at her, all I want to do is pin her up against that wall again and bury myself inside her until she screams my name.

I want her to look at me. I want the sardonic curve of her mouth to take me to task, then I want to obliterate it, smother it with my own until she’s melted in my hands.

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