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Chapter 11 – Lana

“Ademon lord?” Kevin gapes at me while helping me limp toward home – as much as he can with one arm hanging uselessly by his side.

“Archdemon, I’m pretty sure,” I reply, hobbling across the river using the conveniently placed remains of the golem that started all of this.

“And he didn’t hurt you?” He’s incredulous, lips parted in disbelief, eyes as big as dinner plates.

“Beyond what you see on my neck and the fact that he made me hump his leg until I came on it like a bitch in heat – no.” I’m bitter and I don’t hide it. Better to feel anger than humiliation.

Kevin is still staring at me, wide-eyed. “Was… was it good?” he finally asks, all but vibrating with curiosity.

I sigh dramatically. “He ruined me for all other men, with just his mouth on my neck and his thigh between my legs, Kevin.”There’s a lot of that bitterness in my voice and a frantic edge of hysteria mixed in as well. I’m as ashamed of myself for enjoying it as I am angry at the archdemon for influencing me like that. But I’m not lying or exaggerating.

“Holy shit!” Kevin’s smiling at me like I just told him the last three years were a dream and we’re going to Disneyland tomorrow.

“What?” I grump and shoot him a glare.

“Well, the entire team was thinking you need a good lay, you were honestly becoming intolerable. I just don’t think any of us imagined in our wildest dreams that the endorphin provider would be one of the big evils,” he laughs, jostling me because my arm is slung over his shoulder.

“First of all, fuck you,” I say. “And second of all, fuck all of you.”

???

“Which archdemon?” Daniel asks while cleaning up my neck, having already wrapped my ankle. We’re in the dining room and I’m sitting on one of the chairs by the table.

I flush a deep crimson and mumble, “I don’t know.”

Talking with Daniel about this is highly embarrassing. He’s a thousands-of-years-old virgin and the most self-contained person I’ve ever met. I feel both like I’m corrupting him with my demon-humping ways and worried that he would think less of me. Hell, I think less of me.

“Perhaps Asmodai as he is the father of the incubi and succubi,” Daniel suggests.

“Asmodeus?”

“That is one of his names, yes, more commonly used by mortals. The Duke of Lust.” He’s still calmly dabbing at my neck. For some reason, I feel like throwing up.

“What would he look like?” Maybe I can rule him out. Though why it would matter in the grand scheme of things, I don’t know.

“I am not certain,” Daniel replies while smearing an ointment over the bruised punctures. “He was born in Hell of Lilith and Samael. I have never laid eyes upon him.”

Lilith was the first wife of Adam, who refused to obey him (you go, girl), and who became the first female demon (less inspiring as a role model).

“However,” Daniel continues, “the peak of the demonic hierarchy can all feed through a multitude of ways. Some can procure nourishment just by willing it, and some like a more engaged approach.”

That was definitely a hands-on approach – though I wish he put those hands elsewhere, too, and not just on my wrists, face, and neck. Again,what the fuck, Lana?

“In any case, no matter who it was, you are blameless in this.”

I choke on my inhale. “Blameless? I practically gave an archdemon a lap dance and it wasn’t even his happy ending!”

Daniel flushes at my shouted words. Good, I’m not the only one that looks more tomato than ‘human’ right now.

“He could have made you eviscerate yourself or walk on all fours, howling like a wolf.” He makes his point while finishing treating the marks the demon in question had left behind. “The wounds are clean and even,” Daniel says. “There was no tearing of skin. This was not done to hurt you.”

“No, I don’t think so,” I mumble again. “Just my dignity.” I roll my eyes and sigh.

“Did he not present himself to you in an attractive form then?” His brows are up, and is that mischief in his eyes?

It occurs to me that I didn’t even think of the fact that he could have taken on a… less humanoid form. I shudder, thinking about being pinned down by something with scales or a tail. However, what girl would mind a forked tongue? I slap my hand against my face as if I’m trying to beat the intrusive thoughts away.