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Shit. I didn’t think demons could get infections, much less demon Princes, but I guess it’s possible. Again I wonder if I should go topside for help from Lena, or even just her boyfriend Arman. If he’s got a gift for healing, maybe he can heal his Dad.
No! I can do this. I came here because I wanted to prove that I can handle myself as an adult away from Lena. Now’s not the time to go crawling back.
Since Az is sprawled across the whole bed, I nudge His uninjured shoulder until He wakes up. His amber eyes are glazed when they open, and He groans weakly. I don’t like how He looks. Not the demonic part—I’m like “whatever” as far as that goes—but the downward spiral His condition seems to be taking. If I was only gone a few Hell hours, He’s not going to last much longer.
“Az, man, You’re hogging the bed. Scoot over.”
He coughs up a little blood and gives me a dry wheeze of a laugh. “You wish to join me in bed, Callie?” Az tries to wink, but at this point He’s lost just about all His mojo. His wink comes off more as a drunken blink.
I try to ignore the fact that Az is at full salute right now. Naked. In my bed. I tell myself it’s just a reflex for Him, that He probably can’t help it in His current state. I know from living with Lena and her incubus boyfriends that sex heals this type of demon; Az is probably so badly injured that His body is readying Itself for the next willing soul to mate with.
I also try to avoid making direct eye contact with it. It’s not like a human penis. There are tiny little projections all over it, like little barbs, and I don’t even wanna know what those are for. Is it part of how He punishes sinners? Like, do those little spikes hurt? I have questions.
“Az, dude, do you need me to grab a soul for You? Like, someone to, er … Y’know.”
He shakes His head and shifts His hips until I have room in the bed. I notice that the dorm-sized twin morphs into a king, making the dorm-sized room suddenly crowded, but it gives me enough space to climb up next to Him and curl into a ball at His side. I appreciate the attempt to make me more comfortable, but He shouldn’t be expending His energy like this. “No others. I will heal in time.”
“Dude, Your wounds are rancid. That wing over there is torn up, the stuff I bandaged is starting to rot, and Your color sucks. I may not be a doctor, or whatever passes for one here, but I know You need, as Marvin Gaye put it, sexual healing.”
The idiot just pulls a blanket over His towering hard-on and shrugs. “I will be okay.”
I push up into a sitting position and put my hands on my hips in my best Lena impression. “You, sir, need sex to heal. I know how Your kind works. Why won’t You go out there and pick someone? It doesn’t even have to be someone particularly attractive, from what I understand. Literally anyone will do. What’s Your deal?”
Instead of answering me, Az rolls onto His side, away from me.
“Don’t make me get Lena, because I will, and she willmakeYou find someone to have sex with.”
“I do not want sex with ‘literally anyone.’ Get Elena or don’t. I don’t care.”
Oh, shit. It’s worse than I thought. Asmodeus, the demon Prince of Lust, turning down any and all sex?
Is He dying?
Chapter 8
Asmodeus
Why do I care who heals me?
I don’t understand this feeling. This utter repulsion at the thought of being with anyone besides Callie. This is not how I am. I am the Prince of Lust; I can and will fuck anyone or anything at any time. That’s how I was made. So why am I suddenly reluctant to do what I need to in order to heal myself?
It doesn’t help matters that Callie stubbornly refuses to leave my side except to rule in my stead. When she’s not dictating tortures from atop My Throne, she’s right here, tending to my every need.
Well,almostevery need.
She changes my bandages, barely flinching at the stench. She lies next to me while she sleeps. She even sneaks upworld and brings back stolen antibiotics, as though that would do anything to someone with my biology. I suppose it’s the thought that counts. I take the pills she offers, though I know they won’t do any good.
“Az?”
Callie’s voice pulls me from my musings. “Yes, Callie?”
“It’s been days. You’re really starting to scare me. Won’t Youpleasego find a mate for the night to heal Yourself? I’ll sleep on the throne to give You some privacy if that’s what it takes. I just can’t stand to see You like this.”
I fold my uninjured wing over me to block out the sight of the tears I hear in her wavering voice. I can’t bring myself to watch her cry. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want to find a mate for the night.”
“Fuck.”
At first, I think it’s a command; then, I realize it’s a curse. Fabric rustles as the mattress moves. I risk a peek from under my wing and see Callie stripping her clothes. I quickly go back to hiding my face. I shouldn’t watch her change.
