Page 168 of The Demon's Pet

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mor yelled at Griffin. “I’m trying to help train her. Sam was going too easy. I’m showing him she’s not ready yet.”

“You fucking hit a girl!” Griffin yelled back.

“Who else is supposed to train her?” Mor asked. “Sam would have to hit her if I didn’t.”

“Men… shouldn’t hit girls,” Griffin said.

Mor threw his head back in a laugh, and Sam shook his head warily.

“I’m not a man,” Mor said. “Who said I was?”

My jaw fell open, and my eyes darted to Sam, who just shrugged one shoulder lazily.

Sam walked forward, still shaking his head. “Let’s get one thing straight, Griffin. We don’t do celestial rules here in the mid-realm. We go by strength, not gender. Female demons are often stronger than males. Other supernaturals, it varies. Cleo is stronger than all of us, and if we take it easy on her, she’ll fail at what she needs to do. She needs good opponents if she’s going to take on someone in the ninth realm one day.”

Griffin just blinked in shock, staring blankly at Mor, while Simon laughed, holding his middle.

“I’m glad you brought these creatures back with you, Sam,” Simon said, wiping tears from his eyes. “I do so love watching them.”

“I’m glad you’re entertained,” Sam said flatly.

The two seemed to have made up at least.

Still, looking at Mor, I saw no sign that would have told me she was a woman.

Mor caught me. “What are you looking at?”

“I… You just…”

“What, don’t look like a girl?” Mor asked.

“Yeah.”

Mor ran a hand through her short hair. “I’m a professional fighter for the celestials. I look how I look.”

“Actually, the higher you go in the celestial realms, the less difference there is between the sexes,” Sam said. “Mor looks like a normal female from the sixth realm.”

Mor just lifted a shoulder. “What I am isn’t your issue unless I’m trying to fuck you. So anyway, let’s fight.” She made a gesture for me to come to her.

Now that I knew she was female, some things did make sense. The pretty face. The higher voice.

But it didn’t matter, compared to having a good sparring partner.

Sam stepped forward. “No. I think Cleo’s hand-to-hand skills are fine. We can do more practice later. Mor, you and Cleo can practice daily for the next week. Get her even faster.”

Mor nodded.

“There are two aspects to even basic slaying,” Sam said, walking to the middle of the courtyard. “Combat, which you’re good at. And ending life, which you probably never have.”

He snapped his fingers, and a bag appeared in the middle of the courtyard. It was burlap and dirty, and wriggling, while whatever was inside it made hissing noises and shrieks.

My stomach dropped like I’d swallowed a rock, and my chest felt like it was caving in suddenly.

“No,” I said. “I don’t want to.”

Sam grabbed the bag and opened it, letting it fall aside as a tied-up creature fell out.

I gasped as I saw a humanoid creature tumble out of it. Its eyes were black holes surrounded by sickly yellow, it was basically skin and bones, and its skin was the sick bluish-green of someone left under water for a very long time.

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