Page 70
Story: Gift for a Demon
“Right.”
Oh.
He could call for Melchom.
He’d summoned him twice before. He could do it now, too.
He didn’t know how to do it without drawing attention to it, but maybe that didn’t matter.
He needed Melchom here, and it didn’t take a genius to know the demon liked it when he was needed.
Dave was aware this might be a trap—well, he started to think about it now, after he’d called for his demon to save his ass.
“Heavens, Dove, if this is going to become a—” Melchom stopped his tirade the second he noticed Astaroth. Just as quickly, he screamed for Gaz. “No, Gaz!”
Dave’s eyes darted to see what was going on. It looked like Gaz had been getting ready to jump at Astaroth.
“Why would you—?” Dave frowned.
Then, a… creature… materialized. He wasn’t sure he’d seen anything like it before. It reminded him of one of those gargoyles at the top of gothic cathedrals, with wings and horns, a peak, and stony skin covering it.
Gargoyles can kill hellhounds, Melchom spoke into his mind. That’s Astaroth’s pet. He built it for just that purpose. Keep Gaz off them.
Dave gulped down, eyes shifting again toward the hound. Gaz looked confused—and stressed. Her body vibrated as she hunched down, probably unsure about following Melchom’s warning or her instincts to protect.
“It’s okay, gorgeous girl.” His voice shook, but he forced himself to try and look relaxed. “Just stay there, okay? Daddy Melchom will take care of it.”
He hoped so, at least.
Call me that again, Dove.
“It’s not what you—!” he spluttered. Fine, he understood how it had come out, but it wasn’t meant like… It was just doggy talk. “Whatever. That’s not what you should be focusing on!”
“I know.” Melchom’s gaze darted to Astaroth then. “Care to tell me what you and your pet are doing here, Astra? You know I hate how dusty everything gets when it’s here.”
“I’m going to ignore that uncalled for remark.” Astaroth—Astra?—scoffed. “And I’m here so you can finally see reason.”
“Reason?” Melchom repeated slowly.
Dave tried to move—maybe whatever hold he was under would let up—but no luck. It was the strangest sensation. Dave thought his chin would be wobbling if he had full freedom of movement, but instead, his eyes just watered with the desperation to do so, to let out his fear in a more controlled manner. A slow shiver ran down his spine.
“I had to take matters into my own hands. You know, after you kept refusing my offers to come check out your human.”
“I doubt that’s all you’ve come to do.”
Dave whimpered. He really didn’t understand how this hold worked, but he could talk, and make sounds, and shiver. It was strange. Disconcerting.
He guessed that was the Prince’s intention.
“You’re right, of course.” Astaroth chuckled. Dave shivered. “Why isn’t he dead yet, brother? You can’t tell me you still don’t think he’s the one the prophecies talk about.”
Melchom’s muscles bulged, his nostrils flaring. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”
“No?” Astaroth really looked like a caricature of all the cartoons Dave had never felt too drawn to with all the hands waving around and gesticulating. “And, I heard that, human.”
“You’re bored.” Melchom recaptured Astaroth’s attention. “It happens every few centuries. You get bored, and you want blood and drama spilled all over the castle. So it doesn’t matter what you’ve seen in him, or whom you want as King.”
Dave could hear his heart thumping against his chest way too loudly. Bored for blood? That didn’t… It didn’t bode too well for him. Dave’s eyes focused on Gaz. She looked so scared and confused, cowering beside Melchom. The gargoyle wasn’t doing anything other than keeping its unblinking eyes on her, but that was apparently enough.
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