A Demon's Horns: Vice College For Young Demons: Year One

by Marie Mistry

  When I left, I headed straight for the headmistress’ office, the note in my satchel burning a hole in my mind.

  I had tried to read it, but it was written in that irritating Old Demonish and so I hadn’t even managed to make out a single word. Now, as I climbed the stairs, I tried to reassure myself that it was probably just an explanation of events.

  I knocked on the door.

  A woman, far younger than I had expected, with hair in perfect angelic blonde waves, answered the door.

  “Lilith?” she asked, closing it behind me. “Lilith Carazor?” She had a wonderful lilting hint of an Irish accent.

  “Yes Professor,” I replied. “Professor Maddox gave me a note for you.” I pulled it hurriedly out of my bag.

  Professor Saxon skimmed the letter as she walked further into the room.

  While she was distracted, I stole glances at her office and at her.

  She wore a business-like suit of charcoal grey, and it fit her so perfectly I guessed it must have been tailor made. She strutted around the room with perfect confidence and surprising grace. The office was clean, organised and spacious, the complete opposite of Maddox’s office. She didn’t offer me anything as she sat behind a glass desk but waved me into the seat.

  “You say your showing triggered this?” she asked me, after reading the letter.

  “It happened at the same time,” I replied. “But I was passed out for most of it, so I can’t be sure.”

  She smiled at me. “I wish I had been passed out at my showing.” She gestured to her right hand, where a Greed crystal glimmered. It was the same colour as her eyes, I realised. She had yellow eyes.

  My mind flashed back to the boy on the bench. Could they be related?

  “And you’re a Lust?” she checked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” She smiled. “My own son is in Lust, you know.”

  She must have meant it casually, to put me at ease, but all I could see in my mind was images of hand job guy with his head thrown back. The odds of him being her son were slim. All I had to go on was a caste and eye colour.

  “And your horns were there when you woke up?” Saxon asked.

  I nodded. “Can you get rid of them?” I tried for a casual tone and failed.

  She shook her head. “You know I am Greed, but my sub-caste is Philomath. I have absorbed the information in every single book in the library, and even I have only read snippets of rumours about demons with horns.”

  I slouched. “So, they won’t go away?”

  She looked concerned. “Do you not feel sensation in them? I would assume having them removed would be like amputating a limb. If we even knew how to remove them, which considering they appear to be made of stone… I would say it is safer for you just to live with them.” She shrugged. “Did all other aspects of your showing proceed as normal? May I see your crystal?

  I nodded, stood and pulled up the back of my shirt and blazer.

  “The redness is fading very quickly,” she remarked.

  “My mum gave me an ointment to bring with me.”

  “Good, good.” She was leaning into my back. “It’s an interesting shape, but crystals are often like that. I had a friend in Pride with one shaped like a fish, poor girl.”

  I nodded and when she leaned back, I put my clothes back to rights.

  “I would ask the elders,” Professor Saxon told me. “But there is little I think anyone will know about it.” She frowned. “I do recall a book in the library that had mentions of demons with oddities like this. I’ll write to them and get them to find it for you, so you can pick it up at lunch.”

  From that, I gathered she meant I was on my own with this.

  “I don’t really know what Maddox wanted to do by bringing this to my attention,” Saxon mused, writing down a few things. “Perhaps he thought it would intrigue my love of knowledge, or maybe he just wanted to get things done the proper way. Either way, I shall write to your parents confirming your showing, and telling them about this.” She gestured at my horns.

  “Thank you, Professor,” I replied. “Should I go?”

  She nodded, still writing away at her pad of paper and I got up to leave.

  “Oh, one more thing,” she said, as I was halfway out of the door. “You should know the Lust initiation goes as far as you want it to. No one will do anything against your wishes.”

  I nodded, confused beyond belief, and made my way towards Maddox’s class.

  Chapter 6

  I’d reached the corridor when I heard the shouting coming from the classroom.

  “Shut up, you hateful bitch!” Was that Bane’s voice?

  “I will not!” Rina’s petulant reply floated out of the room. “She’s an attention-seeking whore and you’re all letting her get away with it!”

  There was a roar of agreement, over which Maddox could be heard trying to quiet everyone down.

  “Enough!” The patient teacher finally screamed. “One more word about this and I swear I’ll have you all thrown in detention. Your classmate has undergone a stressful change, not to mention her showing, and instead of supporting her, you all want to call her a liar! This is the behaviour of two-year olds, not nearly-grown demons!”

  I decided that hiding behind the doorway wasn’t going to work for much longer; I was going to have to face the room sooner or later regardless of what they thought about me. I took a steadying breath, grateful that if nothing else about me looked confident, at least the heels I had forced on myself would give me a hint of false swagger.

  I turned the corner with a neutral expression on my face. Maddox saw me first and looked a little relieved for some unknown reason. However, once the class noticed his change of focus, they all turned to stare at me. The only person I really noticed was Bane, who’d gone white as a sheet. Obviously, he hadn’t expected the rumours to be true.

  I took my seat, and Maddox gave me a grateful look. The silence reigned, and I was grateful for it, at least no one else was going to yell about how much of a freak I was to my face.

  Maddox began writing on the board, names and dates of famous duels that must suddenly have become the most exciting thing on the planet, as even the disruptive kids who talked through lessons were silently and obediently copying them down.

  I made two vows to myself in that silent lesson. The first was to learn to love my horns. By the sound of things, they weren’t going anywhere and having them must still be better than remaining unshown. The second vow was to learn to love my caste. Because of them I had a place in demon society and wouldn’t be relegated to the role of servant and treated worse than a human. Despite my fears, Lust was probably the least likely to judge me, especially since they were already on the receiving end of such prejudice themselves.

  Or at least, that was what I tried to tell myself as I mindlessly copied the board.

  From then on, the day seemed to go in slow motion. Lunch – which I took in the great hall as part of my ‘show no fear’ attitude – was quiet but people seemed to be getting used to my new look fairly quickly.

  Dr Djinn, my Demonish language teacher didn’t even remark on the horns during his afternoon lesson. And slowly, throughout the day, people started to forget about me. I began to fade back into blessed obscurity.

  Of course, that all changed when Lust came for me.

  I heard the yells from downstairs, the chanting loud and obnoxious as I sat on my bed with my small case of things beside me. The sound was like thunder as they ran up the stairs and it didn’t take long for them to burst through my open door, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Declare your caste!!” A tiny blonde girl demanded from the front of the crowd.

  “Lust,” I said, simply.

  “Show us!” Cried an identical blonde from the group behind her.

  I turned and obediently displayed my crystal.

  The second blonde then did the most unexpected thing and bent to kiss the little stone. When she straightened, there were several whoops.


  “Lust! Lust! Lust! Lust!” They chanted, sweeping into the room and grabbing me.

  I was pulled above their heads before I knew what was going on, and I frantically pushed my skirt down.

  They carried me down the stairs, chanting like mad men as they went. I twisted a little, trying to see what was happening, but the fear of being dropped kept me from moving too much. I was almost enjoying myself, but that was before Rina – the unofficial leader of my new hate-club – blocked their way at the bottom of the stairs. A group of girls stood a little behind her, and I wondered what I’d done to garner such animosity when I’d never even interacted with most of them.

  “Thank you for taking that whore away,” Rina began. “I’m sure she’ll fit in with your kind a lot better than she did here.”

  The Lusts didn’t even stop their chanting, but the tiny blonde who had first spoken to me punched Rina in the nose hard enough to spurt blood. With a cry, Rina fell back, allowing the procession to continue. The blonde, whose name I was suddenly dying to know, high-fived her twin with a gleeful grin, then turned back to spit at Rina.

  “Lust! Lust! Lust!” She joined in chanting, catching my eye as she did so.

  She offered me a wink, just as I was carried bodily from the Gatehouse and across the grounds.

  When we arrived at the base of Lust caste’s tower, I was lowered gently to the ground just before the doorway. In the way stood the yellow-eyed man from the bench, and I flushed though he didn’t even seem to recognise me.

  “Who asks entrance to the Carnal Tower?” he asked the group.

  Someone poked me, and I realised I was supposed to say something.

  “I, Lilith Carazor, ask entrance.”

  “Who stands for her?”

  The blonde who had kissed my crystal stepped forwards. “I, Lucrecia Drabos, stand for her. I have tasted her brimstone and seen her destiny. And it is Lust!”

  “Lust! Lust! Lust!” The group chanted.

  “Welcome, Lilith Carazor,” the man said, with a gleam in his eyes that made me suddenly uncomfortable. Then he addressed the others behind me. “Let the initiation begin!”

  “Lust! Lust! Lust! Lust! Lust!” The chant was ringing in my ears as the blonde who had vouched for me took both of my hands and pulled me through the door.

  I don’t know what I had expected when I walked through the door, but old-world bordello was not it. From the ceiling, huge swathes of red velvet hung downwards before pulling back to hang down the wall in luxurious drapes. Chandeliers of glittering crystal, filled with real candles, illuminated the plush common room with its antique mirrors and dark wood bookcases. Gold and red chairs littered the place, surrounding tables that were scattered with papers and books and in one corner a snooker table had been abandoned mid-game.

  But I only had a few seconds to take all this in before I was carted over to a low table in the centre of the room which held an ancient looking book.

  It was a register, I realised as I glanced down a list of names written in black ink. There was a little space at the end of the page, and as someone pressed a fountain pen into my hands, I realised it was my space.

  I bent over the book, determined to use my best writing. I signed it with a flourish, remembering my earlier vow to love my caste.

  When I looked up, it was to find the twin blondes smiling on either side of me.

  “Let the games begin!” The one with Rina’s blood still on her knuckles announced, pulling out a dark satin scarf.

  The ‘games’ involved tying that scarf over my eyes. The sound of furniture being moved around took me off guard. I could feel the twins on either side of me, a reassuring presence as soft, but intense music began to play.

  As if by unspoken command, the twins began to twirl me on the spot. It felt a lot like being a child playing pin the tail on the donkey again, especially when they started to sing a rhyme.

  “Hush, hush, fret ye not,

  Spin, spin, behind the knot.

  Lust, lust, guide lips true,

  Kiss, kiss, claim innocence due.”

  With the last line, they stopped spinning, and I wobbled my way forwards, unsure what was really going on.

  Thankfully, after a few seconds of graceless stumbling, I fell into someone’s arms. I had no idea who my saviour was, but they smelled like sandalwood and strong coffee. Instead of steadying me and letting me go, like I had thought they would, I was drawn into an embrace and crushed against a body like a brick wall.

  The meaning of the last line of the rhyme fell into my head as I felt their breath fan over my face.

  I was scared for an instant, but as firm lips plundered mine I lost that fear completely. Whoops and catcalls sounded as he – and the hardness wrapped around me was definitely male – deepened the whirlwind kiss, sweeping his tongue along the opening to my lips in erotic expectation.

  Desire wound through me as strong and tempestuous as the kiss itself, as I let my mouth open and was rewarded with a swipe of his tongue, possessing my mouth so thoroughly that I almost forgot to breathe. His hand wound into my hair, stroking against my horn and I shivered in desire, rubbing up against him, begging for more with my body.

  Too soon, the kiss ended, and he pushed me gently away, back into the arms of the twins, who started to spin me once again.

  “Hush, hush, fret ye not,

  Spin, spin, behind the knot.

  Lust, lust, lips guided true,

  Kiss, Kiss, innocence away flew.”

  With those ominous lines, they removed the blindfold and steadied me. When the room stopped spinning, I could see that all around me were members of Lust standing in a circle, all grinning like lunatics. One of them must have been my mystery man, but I was distracted from guessing when someone pressed a glass into my hand and turned up the music. I drank the liquid in one gulp, recognising the burning taste as whiskey.

  Chapter 7

  I don’t remember much of the night after that, although at one point I was pretty sure someone might have licked my horns. I must have been more together than I thought, because my alarm clock woke me up, bringing to my attention both my splitting headache and an urgent need to pee.

  I looked up from the strange, yet comfortable bed, and wondered idly if I was in my new room. Any observation I might have made about the furnishings or layout was overlooked when I noticed, with joy, the open door of an en-suite.

  Once showered and wrapped in a fluffy towel, I felt marginally more human and able to explore my surroundings. The bedroom I was in was a warm violet colour, and dominated mostly by the heavy, wooden, canopied four poster bed which sat between the two huge Georgian windows. On the opposite side of the room, a French statement mirror stood on the floor, taller than I was and twice as wide, it reflected the natural light, and made the room seem bigger. In front of it my suitcase and bags had been carefully piled up.

  Was this my room?

  On the wall between the bedroom and the en-suite was a giant wardrobe made of the same dark wood as the bed. I crossed to it, expecting to find it empty.

  It wasn’t.

  Inside were four sets of Lust uniforms, with their cropped shirts and blazers and tiny pleated skirts. Other than that, a brand-new pair of brogue high heels stood proudly, a note tied to the laces.

  Consider these a gift in return for your first kiss.

  X

  I stared at the confident, masculine handwriting and the single, bold little ‘x’, wondering who on earth this mystery man was. I tucked the note into the corner of my giant mirror, and dressed in the new uniform, incredibly grateful to my mother’s narcissism for insisting I follow in her footsteps and take ballet. At least all those hours of dancing meant my body was toned and suited the short, pleated tartan skirt and cropped shirt.

  I dug out the ointment, and though I wasn’t sure my crystal really needed it anymore, I rubbed a little in just in case. My hair, I brushed as I had yesterday, being delicate around my horns. Feeling bold, I added
ruby red earrings and slipped on the heels I’d been gifted.

  I did a twirl, admiring myself in the mirror. At least being short meant the skirt appeared a little longer on me than it did on some of the other, leggier girls, I noticed happily.

  I packed my bag in silence, pleased that despite my meandering morning I was still slightly early for breakfast.

  My headache had abated slightly by the time I was ready to leave. On my desk, a new class schedule had been left for me, and I saw with relief that I was no longer in Pruitt’s class. Instead, my lessons had been mixed around, leaving me with my morning demonic studies lessons with Maddox and a Mrs Arazon, who was apparently teaching demonic literature on alternate afternoons with Dr Djinn’s language class. There were also new evening sessions held in the Carnal Tower common room with Elder Vrosis. A note attached to the schedule from Maddox informed me that Professor Pruitt refused to have me in her lessons anymore, a fact that made me do a happy little dance.