Page 15 of Ruthless Demon

He ponders that for a moment. I’m not real comfortable with him comparing me to her actual animals, even if she’s the one who brought up the subject of pets, and I really want to know where he’s going with this. “That sounds like a lot of work. Are they worth it?”

I eat quietly, watching a flash of anger cross her face. “Of course they’re worth it. They’d tear a legion of humans to shreds before you could blink. What can your pet do?”

“Oh, you know. She’s very pretty. Easy to talk to, great listener. She’s very affectionate for her species, really enjoys a good snuggle in front of a warm fire. Not to mention she’s positively lethal.” Lucifer pauses for a second as my cheeks burn in shame. “—to mice.”

Diana’s face reflects the same confusion that I’m feeling. Lucifer casually continues to speak between bites. “I used to keep her at the house, but she got too big. Restless, you know? Eventually I donated her to the zoo, but I’ll visit every now and then. Wait!” He turns to me, eyes wide. “I never took you to meet Elvira, did I? Damn it, I knew I should have done that last month. You would love her, Sophia—she’s a beauty, damn near twenty feet long, and such a snuggler.”

“You’re talking about a snake?” Diana explodes.

He blinks at her. “Reticulated python. We were talking about pets, weren’t we?”

Her face freezes in icy fury as two spots of crimson rage appear high on her cheeks. She casts a look at Abaddon, who is laughing at her outright, then pushes herself away from the table. She glares at Lucifer as she stands, then turns that cutting gaze at me. I hide my grin behind my goblet.

Somehow I don’t think laughing at a woman who owns six to eight hundred hell hounds is a good idea. Abaddon’s expression has changed slightly. He’s not friendly, exactly, but he seems a little less hostile. Lucifer still clearly isn’t the favorite around here as Cephalus looks content, but his wife does not. A lot of the women around, especially the barely clad ones, seem pleased; the men do not. Throughout dinner, every attempt I make to get a read on where we stand only leads me to confusion. I just don’t have enough context to fully understand the subtle undercurrents happening around here.

As some people eat their fill, they move on to other indulgences. I sit as close as I can to Lucifer without actually crawling into his lap as vice and violence explode around me. Drinking, dancing, fucking, fighting—it’s like watching the deepest, darkest of all desires come to life before my eyes. Many who are left at the tables are eating voraciously, as if this is the last meal they’ll ever have.

I take a sip of my drink and try to be as still as possible, wondering how long I can last in this place before becoming a target. Then again, I likely already am. It’s an uncomfortable and alarming feeling, but I know there’s nothing I can do about it. The best course of action before me is to listen to Lucifer and lay low wherever else possible—all without being a push over. I need to both stay out of the way, and also not allow people to walk all over me. How hard canthatbalance be?

I take another greedy sip of the drink in an attempt to extinguish my growing anxiety. Something tells me nothing here is going to be easy.

Chapter8

Lucifer

Indulgence undulates in waves,here in the heart of Hell. I know this, and yet somehow, I’m still vaguely surprised when the swell of sex, violence, and gluttony ebbs. Momentarily sated guests and courtiers begin to mingle, connecting and sparking interactions which will eventually explode in hedonistic glory. Now is the time to introduce Sophia to the inhabitants of my world.

“Have you eaten enough?” I ask her, my eyes falling to scan her over.

She nods, exuding nervousness. I glance at her plate to see that she’s eaten, and although maybe not as much as I would like, it will have to do for now. I can’t expect her to be instantly comfortable in this place. Hell, if I’m honest, I’m not as comfortable as I expected to be. This is my home, the soil around my roots, the very basis of my existence, and it feels foreign to me.

“Come,” I tell her as I rise. “I have people for you to meet.”

I offer her my arm and she clings to it fiercely. On Earth, her body language would clearly project discomfort and fear, and I nearly nudge her to straighten before I catch myself. In this pit of hedonism, her clutching nearness expresses sexual interest. My distance, in turn, would express rejection, leaving her open to sexual pursuit.

Perhaps Cephalus had a point in accusing me of being too obsessed with humanity and Earth.

“Lucifer! I heard rumors that you had returned. What convinced you? Not enough backs to stab earthside?” The drunken behemoth stumbles toward us, his long beard stained purple with spilled wine, his horns stained purple with spilled blood. He shoots a bleary, bloodshot glare in Sophia’s direction before losing all interest in her. He has a bone, or several—to pick with me. It’s not unexpected.

“Commander Wargund.” I gesture to Sophia. “I’ve come to give my lady a tour of the old family homestead. Sophia, this is Commander Wargund, a fierce and capable leader, brutally efficient fighter, and a merciless cleaver of Heaven’s ranks.”

The ego-stroking isn’t strictly necessary or entirely truthful, but it’s enough to mollify him. He was ready to challenge me to a fight—a fight I would have easily won, which would turn his loyal subordinates, and possibly my father if he relies on the man, against me. It would also be performative violence in Sophia’s presence. Until now, any violence she’s witnessed at my hand has been strictly necessary for survival; and I prefer to keep things that way for as long as I can.

Wargund grunts and gives Sophia a second look. “Not your usual taste, is she? Too short. Too many clothes. What kind of claws are those? Couldn’t scratch a kitten’s eyes out with those soft petals. Softening in your old age, Lucifer?”

I give him a sharp, warning grin. “Perhaps. I find my patience for unnecessary barbs to be thinning.” In spite of his intoxicated haze, the message gets through. He bares his teeth at me and turns away, his glare lingering until his head is forced to follow his body.

“Your usual type, huh?” Sophia glances up at me with a teasing little smile. I grin back down at her, relieved to see her enjoying any part of this. Even if it is at my expense.

“Well, the old man hasn’t seen me in the last fifty years,” I begin to explain. Before I can continue, a rusalka wiggles over to interrupt us. She’s seven feet of raw sexuality dripping in fine green chains and glittering sapphires; even her twelve piercing talons and long red hair have been bedazzled. Her full lips barely hide the fangs hiding behind them, and her electric green eyes flash with fury. I open my mouth to introduce her, but she slaps the words out of my mouth.

“You!” Her voice, although quaking with icy fury, is as full of sexuality as the rest of her being. “Howdareyou!”

Sophia gasps and I gently and firmly pull Sophia back with my arm around her shoulder and turn, putting myself between her and the tower of sexual frustration. “Ova,” I speak her name like a command, and she raises her chin defiantly. “It’s been a long time.”

“Fifty years, four months, and sixteen days!” She stomps her foot as she wails, shaking the floor beneath our feet. With a suddenness that would surprise an unsuspecting victim, her fury transforms into a seductive pout. She moves to press her nearly-nude body against me, but I’ve been expecting this and all she finds to touch is my outstretched palm. She rubs against it like an attention-starved cat.

“Lu,” she croons. “How could you? Do you know what I’ve been left with in your absence? Ugh, it’s just too awful!”

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