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Chapter 1
Callie
“You’re going to college, Cal. That’s that. So stop arguing, and start picking what classes you’re taking.”
I cross my arms over my chest so hard I painfully squish my boobs, amping my cleavage up to eleven, and I glare at my older sister. “That’s not fair! I’m eighteen now. Why should I still have to do what you say?”
She tries the arm-crossing thing too, but her chest is flat, so it has less of an effect. “You still live inmyhouse, and you still work atmyshop. I promised to take care of you after Mom, Dad, and our brothers died, and I’m not going back on that promise just because you’re stubborn.”
That was always Lena’s excuse for holding me back: the deaths of our family in an explosion several years ago, caused by a demon-possessed witch and his posse. Well, technically the witch wasn’t really a witch; he was a baby. Looked pretty damn good for an infant, seeing as how the demon speed-aged him for her twisted purposes. I had the speed-aging process done to me, too, when the demon-baby kidnapped me and let Lilith into my body. Yeah,thatLilith. The first wife of Adam, Mother to all monsters and demons, Hell-bent on world domination Lilith. It was a whole thing for a while in Nowhere, the sleepy little North Carolina town that our family of carnal witches settled in when I was a teen. We feed off the ley lines that run rampant underneath Nowhere, but those same ley lines allowed for things like demonic possession and a Hell incursion in the warehouse district. Thanks to some friends of Lena’s, we managed to stop the progression of Hell on Earth, but unfortunately, that area of the warehouse district is now a giant burn scar in the otherwise normal-looking town.
I’m so sick of hearing about why I should listen to Lena. Even after I was reverted back to a teenager and had most of the magical demonic tattoos removed from me—it was a whole thing, trust—I still held my own, both here on Earth and in Hell. I taught myself how to use infernal magic instead of my family’s carnal magics, which I couldn’t access properly as a kid. Carnal magic is based on sex, and I thank the Gods every day that Lilith left my V-card intact when She took over my body. It left me weaker on the carnal magic front, but I guess my former occupant left me tuned to Hell magic in a way that the witches of my family have never been. I’ve still got one infernal tattoo that our life-fae friend, Molli, couldn’t erase, and I still find it easier to access demonic energies than those of my own body. I think Lena resents that.
Seemingly oblivious to our argument, my nephew Ben toddles up to me and tugs on the hem of my shirt, begging to be picked up. I do so without a second thought, because Ben had it tough from Day One, and who am I to deny my nephew some affection?
Oh, yeah. Ben got possessed and aged, too. By Satan Himself! Don’t worry, though; Lena got the bastard out of him. Exorcised that douche-canoe right out of her son and into oblivion. Still, I worry that the poor kid is gonna have some kind of complex when he’s older, if he doesn’t already have one, so I indulge him when he wants something. Besides, it’s an auntie’s job to spoil her nephew, right?
With Ben on my hip, I have an added bonus of knowing this won’t turn into a magical fight. I’d rather not be slinging fireballs at my sister, and the last time we got into that kind of argument I ended up singeing her favorite rug. She still won’t let me live that one down.
Arman, one of my sister’s four incubus boyfriends and Ben’s bio dad, walks in just then, further diffusing the potential catastrophe of a witch-on-witch knock-down drag-out.
“Lena, my love, perhaps we should let Calliope have some more time to consider college. She is a powerful witch in her own right. Maybe she’d prefer to earn her keep in the magic shop.”
Lena lets out a frustrated groan and storms off into the kitchen, muttering something about not having time for this shit. A part of me feels bad for pissing her off, but a larger part thinks I deserve the chance to make my own choices, just like Arman says. I’m glad at least one of the incubi is standing up for me, and I hope when the others come downstairs for my inevitable surprise birthday party today they’ll agree with him. I’m fairly certain Aistan will be in my court, as will Samsher. They’re both kickass fighters. Kamran is more of a lover type though, so he might side with Lena. Even with three out of four vouching for me, it might not be enough to win her over to my team.
Summer registration will be over soon. Lena’s just going to push more and more until I cave and sign up for classes. Nowhere Universitydoeshave an arcane arts program—well, “Mythical Studies”—but it’s pretty slim pickings as far as classes go. I can buff up my core program with electives, I suppose, but … I doubt they teach demonic magics at Nowhere U.
I think that’s the crux of my problem. If I wasn’t so Hell-bent on using infernal magic instead of my own natural magic, I guess learning basic magic theory and practice would be good for me. I loathe that side of me though, and really don’t want to use even weaker magics like nature magic or something. Demonic magic has power and weight that natural magics just don’t. I feel important when I use demonic magic. I feel like I’m useful.
I feel like I’m my own woman.
The doorbell rings while I’m contemplating life, the universe, and everything, and I carry Ben to the front of the house as he tries to remove a fistful of curls from my scalp. I’m smack in the middle of untangling his fingers from my hair when I look up at our visitor—
—And see Asmodeus, the demon Prince of Lust Himself, standing on the doorstep.
“Oh! Hey Az. What brings You here? I haven’t seen You much since Lena kicked Your Brother’s evil ass.”
Asmodeus flashes a sexy grin, and even I have to admit I’m a bit turned on by it. Who wouldn’t be, though? Six feet of smooth, mocha-colored muscles, all wrapped up in a three-piece suit that would probably cost a fortune on the mortal market. Top it off with silky black hair, amber eyes with thick, dark lashes, and perfect white teeth, and just about anyone would be weak-kneed in His presence.
Girding my loins, as the saying goes, I shift my weight and get a better grip on the wiggling Ben before I drop him. He giggles and grabs a handful of Asmodeus’s suit jacket, then loudly proclaims, “Grandpa!”
I don’t know how Ben knows Asmodeus is Arman’s father, or how he remembers Him at all. Ben was just days old when Satan was exorcised from his body. Does he have memories of that?
“Hello, Calliope. Benjamin.”
Jesus, His voice is like liquid silk!
Asmodeus gives me a formal bow, like I was a foreign dignitary or something. It makes me kind of uncomfortable, which is compounded when He takes my free hand in His and kisses my palm. “I understand today is an important day for you, Calliope. You were born eighteen years ago this day, correct?”
Gods, I hate when people use my full name! It’s like when He calls Lena “Elena” instead. Just wrong. “Dude, You can call me Callie.”
He shoots me another panty-soaking smile, and I feel my cheeks heat up. “Callie, then. Happy bornday, Callie.”
“Birthday,” I say, though I wonder absently if He’s going to smite me for correcting Him twice in less than thirty seconds. “So, what brings You to the neighborhood? There’s not another incursion in Nowhere, is there?” Not that I’m complaining. I’d secretly love for Hell to be more accessible again. I’ve gotten better at interacting with the latent demonic energies swirling around Nowhere, but an actual Hellmouth would be perfect for practicing.
Even when Az frowns, it’s hot. He kinda pouts a little and shifts His weight to His back hip, and I clench a bit against the sensations running through me. I don’t think He’s doing it on purpose; that’s just the nature of being a demon whose power is based on Lust, I guess.
“I just told you; I’m here for your birthday. I understand eighteen is an important one in this area of Earth.”
