“You’re leaving?” I asked, surprised. He hadn’t mentioned going to hell as part of the day’s plans.
“Just briefly,” he assured me. “Some issues require my physical presence to resolve.” He lowered his voice, adding, “Politics. You understand.”
I nodded, though I didn’t really understand at all. Malphas must have seen my confusion because his expression softened slightly.
“I’ll be back before dinner,” he promised. “We can continue unpacking then.”
Before I could respond, he leaned down and kissed me—a quick, casual goodbye kiss, the kind long-term couples exchange without thinking. The kind that said “I’ll see you later” with absolute certainty.
The kind that, judging by the shocked expressions on his lieutenants’ faces, demons did not typically exchange.
Malphas seemed oblivious to their reaction. “The portal will close once we’re through,” he told me. “Don’t worry about the scorch marks on the floor—they’ll fade.”
With that reassurance, he gestured for his subordinates to precede him through the rift. Each gave me a final, curious look before stepping through. Pustule even offered a small wave.
Just before Malphas entered the portal, he turned back. “Sam,” he said, his voice softer than before, “thank you for understanding.”
Then he was gone, the rift sealing behind him with a sound like tearing silk, leaving me alone in a living room that smelled faintly of brimstone and coffee.
Chapter 14
I continued unpacking while Malphas was away, trying not to think too hard about the fact that my boyfriend was literally in hell conducting demonic business. It was just another day in our increasingly bizarre relationship.
An hour passed, then two. I finished unpacking the kitchen supplies and moved on to arranging my books on the shelves Malphas had built for me. The domesticity of the task contrasted sharply with the supernatural events of the day.
By the third hour, I was starting to worry. Malphas had said he’d be back in about an hour, and he was typically punctual to a fault.
Just as I was considering whether there was a supernatural hotline for checking on delayed demons, the living room air shimmered again. The portal reopened with a crack like thunder, and Malphas stepped through alone.
He looked… different. His clothing was no longer the casual jeans and button-down he’d been wearing earlier but something darker, more formal—black armor-like material etched with symbols that hurt my eyes if I looked directly at them. A cape or cloak of some material I couldn’t identify draped from his shoulders, moving slightly even though there was no breeze.
Most striking was his demeanor. This was Malphas in his full demonic glory, radiating power and authority in a way that made the air feel heavy.
“Hey,” I said, trying for casual despite the otherworldly being now standing in our living room. “How was work?”
Malphas blinked, his glowing red eyes gradually softening as they focused on me. “Work,” he repeated, as if the word was unfamiliar. Then he smiled, his imposing presence diminishing slightly. “Work was… necessary.”
He rolled his shoulders, and the formal attire seemed to melt away, replaced by his normal clothes. It happened so smoothly I wondered if the armor had been an illusion all along.
“Sorry I’m late,” he added, crossing to where I stood. “Political situations are always more complex than anticipated.”
“Everything okay?” I asked, reaching up to touch his face. His skin was hotter than usual, almost feverish.
He leaned into my touch, his eyes closing briefly. “It is now. There were… questions about my current situation. Concerns about my focus and loyalties.”
“Because of me?” I guessed, remembering what his lieutenants had said.
“Partly,” he admitted. “And partly because of Gary’s influence. Some feel I’ve become too… human.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I asked quietly.
Malphas opened his eyes, the red glow dimmer now, hints of hazel returning. “It should be, by demonic standards. But I find I don’t care as much about demonic standards as I once did.”
He pulled me against him, his arms encircling me in a embrace that felt both possessive and somehow vulnerable. “I had to remind them who and what I am,” he murmured against my hair. “That my power is undiminished, even if my interests have… expanded.”
The image of Malphas demonstrating his demonic power made me shiver. “How did you do that?”
A small, dark smile played across his lips. “It’s better you don’t know the details. Suffice to say, my authority is no longer in question.”
