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There was no need to ask. Yet…

“Who…is your master?”

A glint shone in Zeev’s dead eyes. His chest inflated ever so slightly. “The one whose unparalleled powers rival forces of all realms, he who commands fear and respect in the hearts of every dark being, whose name is whispered in reverence and terror by ones who have witnessed his wrath,” Zeev shifted, his head now bowed to the red-clad figure looming over him. “The King of Demons, youngest of the Abyssal Trinity. The Eternal—Xen’areth.”

14. A Hidden Passage

One. Two. Five. Seventeen.

Evan counted the seconds it took for his pulse to go from fluttering to roaring wildly in his ears. With a dumbfounded look, he glanced between the duo.

Then a soft chuckle broke free from his parted lips.

And another one, louder. Again. The volume of his laughter increased with every puff of breath until he was cackling like a lunatic, doubling over and clutching his stomach, wheezing and choking on his own spit.

Ha ha ha ha, I’m going to die!

After years of being called weird and possessed and a psycho, Evan had all but lost half of his mind to convince people to stay away from him. And standing in front of these two demons, he lost the remaining half.

He’d always known luck was a bitch that had some personal grudge against him. But who would’ve known the depth of that resentment would lead him into such a place?

The demon royalty and his monstrous subordinate both looked at Evan like they were trying to decipher which species he belonged to. That made Evan laugh harder.

He wasn’t laughing because he was amused, nor to fill in the awkward silence that followed the revelation of Xen’s identity. He was simply trying to laugh his throat hoarse so he’d lose his voice and never have to utter another word again.

He vaguely recalled someone saying that his mouth would land him in trouble one day. Turned out, it was a premonition.

What had he called Xen? Perverted ghost? Demon peasant? Lower than a low level? He had been talking shit to an Eternal, a fucking Demon King, with a clear look of disgust on his face all this time.

Even though luck never favored him, life seemed to have been on slightly better terms with Evan because even after insulting an Eternal for weeks, he’d escaped death. Somehow.

That demon had the patience of a saint. Ironic, right?

After laughing himself to tears, Evan coughed with his hands braced on his knees. Slowly his laughter died down, bloodshot wide eyes staring unblinkingly at the ground. From a stranger’s perspective, he looked like an individual who belonged in the secured chambers of a madhouse.

The Doctrine of Blackwood Exorcists. Rule 85: “When facing a force of greater power than yourself, seek immediate aid from fellow exorcists.”

With a sniff, Evan straightened and carefully folded up his shirt sleeves that had rolled down. Dusted the knees of his pants. Calm. Composed.

Then he turned and bolted like his tail was on fire.

“I’M SORRY FOR WHATEVER I SAID! I REALLY AM! DON’T FOLLOW ME!”

He didn’t know why he was running or what human could possibly outrun two powerful demons. All that was going through his mind were two words.

Cliffandjump.

He was going to find a cliff and jump off.

Staring at his retreating form, Xen sighed with a shake of his head, then turned a glare on his subordinate.

Zeev didn’t understand what had happened or why Evan had laughed and then run away, but when he incurred the glare of his master, he reflexively thought he had done something wrong.

“My Lord—”

Xen suddenly drew closer, towering, intimidating. “You scared him away.”

For three centuries, all Zeev could think about in his Hellguard form—until his mind collapsed under the pressure of his saturated demonic energy—was his master. Actually, three centuries was nothing. If he could go back in time, he’d readily suffer through the same curse for Xen, he’d do it a hundred more times if he must. Because right now, as he watched his master’s face, he knew that beneath that twisted scowl, Xen was silently glad to have Zeev back.