Page 16 of Ruthless Demon

“An entire continent full of willing bedfellows?” I suggest.

“Who all leave me conscious!” She’s wailing again, wilting, feigning helplessness. It was a game I enjoyed playing with her once upon a time. “There’s nobody like you, Lu! I’ve looked everywhere. Come with me, remind me what I’ve missed for so long.” She tugs on my hand, ignoring Sophia’s existence entirely.

“No, Ova. Go play with an incubus.”

Her eyes go wide. To say she isn’t used to rejection is an egregious understatement. She’s as skilled as the rest of the sexual fiends, and twice as successful. She notices Sophia, apparently for the first time, and blinks. She frowns, squinting at Sophia, turning her head this way and that as though trying to determine just what kind of flotsam has gotten caught on my jacket.

Eventually she raises an eyebrow at me and laughs. “I see. Hownoble. Well, when you get bored of your new toy, Lucifer, you know where to find me.”

She strides away into the crowd, shaking her head and chuckling, all of her facades mirthfully abandoned. I give Sophia a tense smile as we continue moving through the room, worried about her very human feelings in the face of such blatant disrespect.

“Ah. So that’s what he meant,” Sophia comments. “Well, she seems nice.”

It surprises a laugh out of me, which draws several curious looks from around the room. I’m pleased. The more they wonder about her, the less likely they are to attack her outright. They already suspect that she has some kind of untold power. Logically, she would have to, or I wouldn’t be wasting my time with her.

At least that’s the general opinion, those who know me best will understand that I don’t work that way. I never have. My interest in humanity was never in their power the way the denizens of Hell define the word. It was always about their subtle power, the power to evolve and learn. The power to congregate and become something bigger than the sum of their parts. To transform in a way to suit their immediate needs or environment, while taking the core of their personalities with them. These are powers which Sophia wields unknowingly, skillfully, and gracefully. Even now, she’s lost her frightened mouse expression and is taking in every detail with wide eyes, her brain sparking, absorbing, adapting.

“Good to see you again, sir.”

I turn to find Rir, a strategist and soldier who aided me on many a foolhardy mission. I offered him the same deal I offered Fenriz and the others. He would have been a great asset to me on Earth but he had declined, as I suspected he would. Rir was always very certain about the necessity of the war and the value of his place in it. Looking at him now, I see that shining conviction has become a bit tarnished, that glowing determination has worn a little thin. He looks tired.

I clasp his shoulder. “Rir, old friend, you look terrible.”

He gives me the ghost of a grin. “That’s an improvement, I suppose. Last I heard, I looked like death.”

I chuckle at that and feel Sophia slip out of my arm. I turn to her and she gives me a reassuring smile, gesturing that she’ll stay where she’s just a couple feet away, giving me space. I’m grateful for that. If anyone around here will give me an honest answer about the war on the ground, it’s Rir.

I turn back to him to find him giving me a worried look. “Are you back for good? We could really use you out there.”

I sigh, not willing to get into the details. There are enough rumors flying around to fill a library with stories, and for now that suits me just fine. “I’m back for now. We’ll see how things play out. Tell me where we really stand.”

He doesn’t have to say a word, I can read it all over his face: things are bad. Maybe we aren’t losing yet, but the stalemate has become strained, a drain on him, Wargund, and everyone else. My father’s sudden escalation makes more sense, if this is a reflection of our true status on the battlefield.

“Our numbers look good on paper, but our efforts are scattered. Not to question the leadership, but there seems to be a lack of direction. It’s like trying to fix a dam—we’re running our men ragged trying to patch leaks while water spills over the lip above and pressure builds behind. At the very least, I’d say we need fresh eyes on our strategy.”

Murmurs of conversation from my left grow a bit louder and I block them out, focusing on what Rir is telling me. “Who are you working strategy with?” I ask him.

“For the most part, I—hey, isn’t that your friend?” He looks over my shoulder, behind me and to the left, where Sophia was standing. I turn to find Sophia glaring openly at Abaddon, who leers lecherously at her.

“I’ll even let you swallow so you don’t mess your pretty dress,” Abaddon is saying.

“Oh, how gracious of you,” Sophia spits. “How could I resist such sweet seduction?”

“No one could expect you to resist this,” Abaddon remarks, flexing his bare abs with an obscene gyration. “You want a pillow for your little knees, or do you like the pain?”

“Oh fuck off, you narcissistic prick,” Sophia snarls.

“Ah ah ah. Suck my cock first, then maybe I’ll fuck you. You don’t eat dessert before dinner, do you?”

That’s enough.

Before I even finish that thought, I’ve closed the space between us, rippling out of my human skin and into something a little more appropriate. He barely has a chance to shoot a triumphant glance my way before my stone-colored fist connects with the underside of his smarmy jaw.

He doesn’t go flying as far as I’d like him to. He’s as dense as I am and merely lands hard on his back. I aim a kick at his rib cage, intending to humiliate him quickly and get Sophia back to the room, but he grabs my foot in both hands and twists with his whole body, throwing off my balance.

“Can’t keep your woman away from me, can’t fight for shit. Remind me again why Father thought bringing you back was the key to winning this?” He’s on his feet, wiping the smear of blood off his mouth, grinning at me like an idiot.

Blinding white-hot fury rakes through me and I swing at him again. Here I am, trapped against my will in an unwinnable war, forced to pit my own convictions against my woman’s life on a roulette wheel of destruction, and this jackass is fucking jealous! My strike lands, knocking him off his feet again, but he never touches the ground. He’s transformed, his wings nearly as broad as mine, and he skims over the floor for a moment before taking to the air and banking around, flying at my chest.

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