Page 69 of Demon Touched

I turn and start jogging in the other direction, toward my room, bracing myself for what lies ahead.

For years, I watched the wingers tear each other apart on the plains from a distance, indifferent to everything except the chance to end the day with more coins in my pocket. I always dismissed it as the wingers’ war—but the wings are on my back now, and that makes it my war too.

For today, at least. Let’s see if I live to see tomorrow.

Chapter 20

Syrus

Asterim is barely back from smuggling Leah out when the soldiers are at our door.

“Their honors wish to speak with you,” says a short-haired captain with brown skin who looks like she could move mountains with one hard stare.

“I would be pleased to grant them their wish, Captain⁠—?”

“Captain Pellery Cazele,” she says.

“Ah yes, you were at the ball,” I say. “Apologies, it’s so hard to keep track of you all.”

It’s not strictly true. I instantly recognized the captain as the one who approached Leah by the trade rift in Strata. But I’m playing my role as the arrogant demon lord, and it’s a common stereotype among demons that ephilium are hard to tell apart. They’re just so uniform with their white wings and humanoid bodies, in comparison to the variation found in Infernum. Remembering my human life as I do—full of Stratans who have a similar lack of variation—it’s never been a problem for me. But as long as I’m being a bit of an asshole, I’m doing what they expect of me. Too friendly and eager and they’ll be convinced I’m up to something.

The captain just gives me a calculating look before nodding and gesturing for me to follow her soldiers.

Viz and Aster come too, unwilling to let me out of their sight. We walk in silence until Aster’s languid voice pipes up.

“Did you have fun at the ball, my dear?” I glance over my shoulder and see her looking up at Captain Pellery with innocent curiosity. I smother a smile. Aster is the one who can get away with the charm offensive. She’s petite and pretty and nonthreatening in her glamorous clothes, and her small talk disarms the ephilium in a way that’s very amusing to watch.

The captain’s eyes flick down at her, though her neutral expression remains unchanged.

“I was on duty,” she says, as if that answers the question.

“I suppose that explains it,” Aster sighs. “They’re very cruel to make you wear armor to a party.”

The soldiers ahead of me exchange looks with each other, unsure what to make of my best friend.

There’s a pause before the captain answers. “I like the armor. To wear the uniform of the Brigade is a privilege.”

Aster hums to show her interest. “Well, that’s good then. And you do look very nice in it. Not everyone can pull off that much gold, darling.”

Captain Pellery clears her throat, and I can see the faintest hint of a blush darkening her cheeks. I smirk. Everyone’s eyes are on the big, bad demon lord and his whip-smart chamberlain, but Aster is the real secret weapon.

Sadly, the captain makes me leave them both behind when we get to the large set of doors that lead to the seraphim’s reception room. I enter a chamber with impressive columns, lit up by a number of large braziers and filled with a palpable tension.

Seraphs Orelle and Wyvier are on their little thrones as I come to stand in front of them, serene on their parked behinds while they make everyone else stand in supplication.

Well, everyone else in Aradis might be their underling. But not me.

“Good afternoon, Seraph Wyvier. Seraph Orelle,” I say. “Would you allow me just a moment to get settled?”

The seraphim exchange a look, but Seraph Wyvier nods.

I turn and let a stream of shadow issue from my palm. The guards stationed beside the doors immediately stiffen, hands going to their weapons, but Seraph Orelle raises his hand.

“Hold,” he says. Perhaps he can sense that my intentions are harmless. Or maybe he just doesn’t mind risking the guards’ lives, given the shadow is heading toward them and way from the seraphim.

The stream of darkness snakes under the doors; a moment later, the doors fly open, and my shadows drag a chair into the room. Once it’s in position, I let the darkness dissipate, fading into whisps on the air. Then I straighten out my cuffs and sit down opposite the seraphim.

“There we go. Now we’re all comfortable.” My smile is genuine, enjoying the irritation on their faces. “Now what did you wish to discuss? I’m afraid my chamberlain hasn’t yet had a chance to convey your initial proposal to the lords. They’re busy people.”