“He’ll be with you shortly,” a Royal Guard informed me as he stepped through the diamond-laced gates. An interesting choice of adornment. They glimmered in bright blue shades from the sapphire sun above.
Well, everything in this kingdom possessed a bluish tint. Even my all-black suit. Ashmedai’s navy wings would appear even more regal as well, his being meant to thrive in this kingdom. Hence the reason it was built for him tens of thousands of Hell years ago.
The buildings were modernized with windows that glistened in azure pigments all day and all night, as the sun never set in this realm. But Ashmedai’s palace was decorated in various precious stones, such as the diamonds along his gate, giving his grounds a ritzy flare that didn’t match the notorious Prince of Hell. Ashmedai enjoyed his casual attire, preferring to wear jeans and nothing else to most of his meetings.
Of course, today he met me with his regal robes.
Another slight to remind me of his disappointment in my leadership.
Same with the bow he forced me to maintain for nearly three minutes before sighing, “Stand up. Your scalp is beginning to burn.”
It wasn’t, but I didn’t correct him, instead saying, “My prince.”
He just shook his head and started down the path toward the marble stairs that led up to the massive doors of his estate. Very few demons were permitted on these grounds. Just as very few received an escort to the entrance by the Prince of Hell himself.
The formality served as a sign of my status. He might be disappointed in my recent failure, but he still respected me enough to treat my position as one of value. I sat directly beneath him in terms of superiority in this world. Demonic Lords were almost as rare as Archdemons, our affinity for power almost rivaling the other. But he edged me out by a small margin, mostly because he owned an entire kingdom in Hell. While I served as the monarch of a massive territory on Earth.
“Are you about to fail me again?” Ashmedai asked while using his massive wings to casually drift up along his stairs. As I didn’t possess feathers, I used my feet to climb all ninety-two steps.
“I’m here about the human casualties in my realm,” I replied, aware that he already knew why I’d graced his presence. His guards would have told him my reason for calling upon him. What I hadn’t told them was, “The succubus involved is innocent. Someone’s framing her.”
He glanced at me, his violet irises swirling with power. “Oh?”
“Guinevere knows better than to leave a trail of dead bodies in her wake. She’s well-versed at disposing of them properly when needed.”
“MeaningGuineverehas a penchant for killing?” he drawled, enunciating her name with a clarity that told me he would now forever remember her name. Mostly because I’d used it, and I didn’t typically refer to those under my rule with such a personal touch.
“She’s Evangeline’s best friend,” I replied, knowing he favored the fallen angel almost as much as I did.
“Ah, yes. Is that the succubus I met…?” He trailed off as he pushed through the doors of his home, his expression thoughtful. “Well, I can’t say how many years ago it was. Time is meaningless here, as you know. But is it the one who recommended I wear a shirt in the human realm?”
“Yes.” It was a memorable day for me for a multitude of reasons. I hadn’t known Guinevere well prior to her showing up on my doorstep. She’d apologized profusely for the interruption, then told me Geier was in Miami. Guinevere had delivered the information after Evangeline went missing, and her words had confirmed my suspicion about Kalida faking her own death.
The anger that confirmation brought with it had nearly led me to destroy the darling succubus. Not on purpose, but as a proxy to my mounting ire. Yet she’d remained bowed at my feet, her beautiful head bent in pure reverence. Seeing her there had doused my fury and provided me something else to focus on—her hunger.
I’d known about her control issues prior to that first meeting, having heard reports of it from Zane over the years. But I’d never spent any time evaluating her.
That moment changed everything, marking her as a priority I monitored more closely.
And now here I was in Hell, ready to bargain for time to prove her innocence.
“You like her,” Ashmedai acknowledged, a smile in his voice. “Is she your current paramour?”
“No. I’ve assisted her energy levels on occasion, but nothing beyond kissing.” I boldly met his gaze. “My track record with succubi isn’t exemplary.”
“Hmm, no, it’s not,” he agreed. “Is your Guinevere related to your former consort?”
His reference to Amarella had my jaw clenching. “Guinevere descends from a different line. She’s pure and truthful and innocent.”
“An innocent succubus,” Ashmedai mused, his ash-blond hair tinted blue through the windows of his palace. He ran his fingers through the long strands, then led me to the grand seating area just off the foyer of his magnificent estate. I knew the grounds rather well having spent most of my youth here to learn beneath his wing.
A favored apprenticeship.
And likely the reason he allowed me to maintain my leadership position after the debacle with Kalida.
That and I’d earned my kingdom through a series of strategic events that led me to become the Demonic Lord of North America.
“Are you here to speak on her behalf?” Ashmedai pressed when I didn’t immediately reply. “An innocent succubus framed for crimes she didn’t commit? Sounds rather similar to Evangeline being setup for Kalida’s murder.” He looked at me. “Perhaps another Demonic Lord is trying to win North America.”
