Muda and the other demon are talking, and I focus on what’s being said. I catch the tail end of Muda recapping the conversation that occurred between us in his flat in Glasgow, and the other demon is watching me calculatingly. A long black tongue snakes out of his mouth and flicks in my direction, like he’s a snake that’s scenting me, either that or he’s propositioning me for other things. Either way, I fidget uncomfortably, unable to help it.
“Breaking the Accords is a very serious accusation,” the other demon points out, rolling its freakishly long tongue back into its mouth. “If you’re making a false report, there are consequences, you know.”
I look at Muda, suddenly worried that he left that part out, but I quickly shove the apprehension I feel aside. A demon did attack me, threaten me, and then try to come after me again, which according to Muda is against the laws. I square my shoulders and nod my head.
Black eyes drink me in for a beat, and I can feel the demon trying to determine something, but I have no idea what. “Follow me then. I’ll take down your statement and have the proper channels look into it.”
I’m ushered into a massive office and sat on the other side of an ornate hemlock wood desk. I feel like I’m meeting with the CEO of some massive company instead of meeting with a demon to complain about getting picked on by another demon. The whole exchange is weird, but I suppose bureaucracy prevails in every species.
I shake my head as I look around. “Here I was thinking it was weird when I learned that the High Council had their own offices and penthouses,” I mumble as I survey the trinkets displayed on a set of glass shelves. I’m too far away to tell what anything is, but it’s not family photos or diplomas at least.
“Guess it only makes sense for demons to have advanced beyond the archaic days of our ancestors’ cabins and huts,” I go on, returning my attention back to the red demon, who’s watching me intently from his leather high-backed chair.
“Not that I know much about demons, really,” I hurry to add, realizing that what I just said might’ve been offensive. “I know that you live in another realm and apparently messing with ours is frowned upon, unless in specific cases and under a clear set of guidelines. Although I just learned that last part today,” I announce, like it should be important to the demon staring at me like I’m a fly that just landed on his food. “I have to admit though, so far I find the relationship between demons and witches all a bit confusing andwaymore structured than I thought it would be. As anticlimactic as this whole office experience feels, real talk, I could use a bit more of that in my life, given all the crazy ass shit I’ve been dealing with lately,” I declare as an exhausted chuckle escapes before I shut my ridiculous rambling down.
Really, brain? We justreal talkeda four-armed demon?
Internally, I facepalm and try not to cringe at the word vomit I spewed all over. Nope, I will not let them see me sweat.
“I must say, mancer, the reek of power on you is truly tantalizing,” the red demon declares out of nowhere.
“She has a mouth on her too that I suspect you’d find amusing,” Muda states evenly, his back to us as he stands off to the side, staring out at the city skyline, like he’s already bored with whatever is about to happen even though we haven’t even begun.
Black eyes twinkle at me, and I fight the urge to panic or try to run screaming from this office and this demon. “I don’t get over to your side of things very often anymore, but if the witches are smelling like you these days, then I will endeavor to make more of an effort.”
“They don’t,” Muda monotones, and I shoot a glare at his back.
“How much for you?” the red demon asks, his face a terrifying wall of seriousness.
I choke on air, not sure what the hell to say to that. “I...um…well...”
“Call me Dyad,” the red demon offers, as though my hesitant answer is a result of not knowing his name instead of not knowing what the fuck to say to that inappropriate question.
What in the Crone is going on here?
“Uhh...okay…right…uhhhh...Dyad...” I stammer, scrambling for a way to shut whatever is happening down without creating more problems for myself with any more demons.
I have no idea how we took this turn toI think not-ville, but I need to turn this shit around fast. I need the demon I’m already dealing with gone, not a two-for-one deal on trouble.
No. Just...so many nos.
Dyad snaps at Muda, like a douchebag in a restaurant snaps at the server. I cringe at the lack of manners. Muda turns to me, his surly silver eyes gleaming as he huffs out a resigned sigh.
“You should consider this offer carefully, as there is no guarantee that one will be made again,” Muda tells me, his tone practiced and bored. “To be in the service of a High Demon is the highest of accomplishments. You will be offered protection and power, the likes of which you’ve never even dreamed about. The contract could be platonic. Your services could be rewarded in whatever monetary ways you see fit. Or, if you prefer, your contract could encompass all of the supreme pleasures and delights that a High Demon is capable of offering. You would have a life beyond your wildest dreams.”
Muda’s eyes are flat as he does his worst to sell me on my options, but Dyad doesn’t seem to be bothered by the lack of enthusiasm in the slightest.
“Dyad is a very virile demon possessing both male and female anatomy—some in duplicate. You are guaranteed to haveeverythingyou need at your disposal to achieve the highest tier of pleasure any being is capable of reaching.”
My eyes widen at this declaration, and I suddenly don’t know where to look.
This demon is seriously packing two dicks and a vagina in those pants? Do not look, Lennox. Curiosity killed the cat, and it sure as hell might come for an Osteomancer too.
I clear my throat, waiting to see if Muda has anything else he’d like to tell me about the High Demon Dyad, or maybe an escape plan he wants to throw my way, but he stays quiet on both fronts.
Sweat breaks out on my brow as my flighty eyes finally connect with Dyad’s black gaze.
Do not gulp, Lennox. There will be no audible gulping to the offer of two dicks, a vagina, four hands, and a whole lotta enslavement.
