Dillon poked his head around Vik’s bulk. “Do you always dress likethat?”
Vik’s mother smoothed a hand down her ever-twitching attire. “Dress how? I’ll have you know this is the finestsilk…”
“And so Joan Crawford, circa 1935. Look, sweet cheeks, if you wanna be evil in this day and age, catch up with the times. What you need is amakeover.”
“Dillon’s a stylist,” Vik offered with a one-sidedshrug.
The BFD’s shoulders lost a bit of their rigidity. “Goon.”
The most audacious human to ever draw breath stepped out from behind Vik to run appraising eyes up and down Her Badness’s frame. “Do you want to be kick-your-ass-and-eat-your-liver evil, or sexy-evil?”
“There’s a difference?” The BFD stared down at her blood red dress. Vik was still reeling over the guy being alive after referring to evil incarnate as “sweetcheeks.”
She’d always loved this dress. For centuries she’d loved this dress. And Dillon was going to spend his last pre-ash moment talking her out of her favorite clothing. Vik’s tail drooped to curl around oneankle.
“Imagine this…” Dillon dared, DARED to touch her arm and lead her away from the throne. All assembled drew back in horror. “…a spandex cat suit that fits you perfectly, moves with you and not on its own. That’s just… creepy.” He nodded at her writhing mass ofsilk.
When he glanced up a demon lurking in the shadows gave a little half-smile and a fluttery wave. Dillon replied with a curt nod before returning to the task at hand. He stopped mid-motion. Five fire minions waved. “Hi, Dillon!” theyshouted.
Oh, Home. Wasn’t there anyone Dillon hadn’tfucked?
“Old news, Vik. What happened before we met at the party doesn’t count,” Dillon hissed. To the BFD, he said, “Or we could go kick-ass, lots of leather. Only, that may be a little hot down here. And there’s chafing to worry about. Anyway, I could work up a few drawings if you’d like. Then I’ll bring swatches. While we’re at it, how about a little redecorating? Just because you live in Hell doesn’t mean it has to look likeit.”
The BFD suddenly seemed to remember herself, or at least to recognize an audience had just witnessed her giving ear to a human. She still hadn’t gotten over the snickering about her sleeping with a human herself—even if he was a really evilaccountant.
“Are you here to challenge for my son?” Her voice grew eerily cold for someone who basically lived in openflame.
All the mincing, all the prancing, all the playfulness suddenly disappeared. Dillon held himself straighter, though he only came up to the demon queen’s chest. “Yes, Iam.”
Fire shot from the BFD’s fingers, directly atDillon.
“No!” Vik screamed. He dove to intercept theblast.
From every corner of the cavern shadows gathered, whipping into a spectral whirlwind that batted the flame away, only to retreat into… Dillon’s raised fist? What theHome?
The BFD and Dillon locked eyes, some communication Vik couldn’t hear ricocheting between them. Moments passed, their stares remained fused. The fifty or so assorted witnesses fidgeted andmurmured.
The whispers increased as dark shapes swept into the chamber, dimming the glowingstalagmites.
The BFD of the Sixth Level broke the gaze first, to rivet her scowl on an equally imposing woman dressed head to toe in black. The newcomer’s garments reminded Vik of his first encounter withDillon.
“What are you doing here, Chandra?” his motherroared.
What little of the woman’s face peeked from her apparel was luminous blue. Black lips pulled away from gleaming teeth, complete with diminutive fangs. Hmmm… She looked vaguely familiar. “That’s easy, Anna. My son summonedme.”
Anna? No one called the BFD Anna. Except Grandma. Oh wait.Son?
Vik’s mother stepped away from Dillon as if he burned, and not in a good way. “Your son? This puny human is your son? You’ve certainly gone slumming since we lastmet.”
Chandra snorted. “Don’t you know glamour when you seeit?”
Glamour? Vik squinted hard, but only saw Dillon. And if he stared too hard, he saw Dillon as he’d been last night. Mostly, naked and breathing hard. What the fuck was she talking about? And who wasshe?
The newcomer addressed Dillon. “For years we’ve been at war, however inactively, and yet you managed to breach their defenses. I, Chandra, Mistress of Level Five, Terrorof…”
Crap! Mistress of Level Five? That meant…Buthow?
“Not so fast.” Dillon dropped his voice so low Vik strained to hear. “Before you go claiming level six for our territory, I’d like to propose acompromise.”
