Page 64

“Why?”

No explanation came. Dave huffed, but he wasn’t angry. He didn’t think so. Besides, he had Gaz now. He wasn’t… He wouldn’t be defenseless. He refused to be.

“Melchom?”

There was something Dave needed to do. Or thought he needed to do. He didn’t want to waste time questioning his brain over and over.

“I’ll set it up.”

“Thanks.”

CHAPTER 14

MELCHOM

“For an entire week, your gift has been walking freely through the realm.” Flaga used her nails to scratch the flayed back of a nameless human as she spoke. “Why?”

“He’s bonded with a hellhound.” Melchom forced his stance to appear relaxed even when their current leader would be able to see through it.

“So I’ve heard. That’s unusual.”

Melchom nodded. It was. He was still trying to figure it out, chasing after every book and scripture that could tell him more. It had to mean that the human was meant to be King, but that had never happened. No one would know how to make it work.

That was without stopping to think about what it would mean for Melchom. If his Dove became the one to claim the throne to Hell, and he became King, that meant the rest of the prophecy would also be true. Melchom’s fate… his life… would lie in his human’s hands.

It was a scenario that had no precedent. No human had ever held that kind of power over a demon. Melchom was sure the closest Hell had ever been to witnessing something like this was his dethroning. Even then, though, his life hadn’t been at risk. His existence.

At a few thousand years old, it was a weird crossroad to find himself thinking about.

It was made weirder by the mellowness in his human. Nothing specific had changed. Their deal was still in place. The human feared him beautifully without that much effort from him. They still had sex, and Melchom had woken him up a couple of times to flood him with golden liquid.

But his Dove was happy with it all. He walked the hellhound and tried roping Melchom into buying shit Gaz definitely didn’t need. Dove didn’t question his place or think about ways to escape.

His only serious request had been the unspoken one the other day. But even that, Dove hadn’t mentioned again. Melchom pinched his brow. To be fair, he hadn’t been able to talk to Astaroth all week, but that in itself was strange—as strange as being summoned for a conference with Flaga alone.

“What am I really doing here?”

“You forget your place, paymaster.”

Melchom growled. He didn’t care about sounding like a caveman. “I have business to take care of.”

“So do I.” Flaga’s laugh was shrill. It had always bothered him. “You think you’re more important than me?”

“No, Flaga.” His nostrils flared as he forced the words out, though. He didn’t think the other demon would’ve missed it. “But you’re the one who called me.”

“Keep your human affairs under wraps,” she warned. “Hell doesn’t need another insurrection. Everything has just begun to settle down.”

“It’s all under control.”

Melchom wanted to say his human wasn’t the Israeli king, but he didn’t. It would show weakness, and the fact was that he didn’t know. He couldn’t know. Melchom had felt sure of a human’s intentions once, and… There was a giant painting depicting how that went down.

“It’d better be.”

“Did you want anything else?”

Flaga pierced the human’s skin, gagging them before they could scream. “Scram. You’re looking good, though.”

“Right.”