by Dante King
“Understood,” I said, turning away before the situation could boil over. “So Pride is where the best and brightest hang out, huh?”
Xora talked as we walked, leading us through the market toward a tall white tent between two temple-like buildings. “It’s where the greatest demons gather—the ones closest in spirit to our Lord, the Prince of Darkness. Other schools teach magic, or combat, but Pride teaches command. Here you’ll learn strategy, tactics, demonic management, and leadership. You’ll learn to turn an enemy into a friend, and a friend into a worshipful zealot.”
“That’s a lot,” I said, stunned.
“That’s not even close to everything,” Xora said, her smile widening as she ticked off more subjects. “Commanding lesser demons—like the one you’ve already bound to you. Summoning new ones, creating armies to serve you. Even creating entirely new categories of demon is not beyond those who follow the Pride School. This is the big leagues, Luke. A mere step beneath Lucifer’s power.”
Mareth’s voice dropped to a whisper. “This is where you belong.”
I didn’t need anyone to tell me that. I could feel it in my bones.
We paused before the tent, giving me a moment to gather my thoughts. “I’ve decided,” I told Xora—though I meant the words every bit as much for Christina and Mareth as for her. Maybe more, since they followed me. “This is my major, for sure. I want to be a Pride demon. I want to be the next Archlord.”
Tears welled in Mareth’s eyes. Christina squeezed my shoulder, like she’d never been more proud to be my girl.
Xora’s smile grew wider. “Well, now, let’s not get too hasty.”
“Huh?” Something twisted in my stomach. “What do you mean?”
“Before we can get started,” Xora told me, drawing out the words like knives, “you need to be tested. All students new to the Infernal Academy take an aptitude test, which tells us where their natural skills lie. The students themselves have little choice in the matter.”
Icicles filled my chest. “I...see,” I said, watching my dreams fade before my eyes. What if the Academy’s tests decided I wasn’t a good fit for Pride? What if they wanted me to go back to Sloth? Shit, just the tour had been a major ordeal. I’d almost died, after all. What would a final exam look like to these demons?
No, I told myself. There’s no way. I didn’t come this far to fail now. I’d kicked ass during the Wrath tour, right? Christina and I beat the shit out of those two demons—but maybe I wouldn’t get the credit for that, and Christina would. She was a shoe-in to end up one of these Wrath and Lust demons for sure, but what about me?
Lucifer wouldn’t give the title of Archlord of Hell to some guy who washed out and ended up in Gluttony, washing dishes and duplicating mince pies for a hungry student body. Or maybe I’d fail the test outright, and end up a janitor.
Horrible visions flashed before my eyes. All the women who’d shown interest in me—the topless girl in the dorms who’d nearly called me in, the blue-skinned girl who wielded nightmares, the sexy demonesses in Lust—none of them would look at me twice if I didn’t make a good showing in this exam. Even Christina and Mareth might start treating me differently if I bombed the exam. Sure, they’d be sympathetic, and Christina would remain bound to me no matter what, but our relationship would never be the same.
Calm down, Luke, I commanded myself. You’ve done great so far—and beginner’s luck is bullshit. Even if the test is hard—like crazy fucking hard—you can do this. You’re Lucifer’s chosen…
Wasn’t I? Hadn’t I just learned I wasn’t as special as I thought?
“What’s the test look like?” Christina asked.
Suddenly I realized—both Xora and Mareth were struggling to hold back laughter.
“It involves a tour of all seven schools,” Xora said, giggling behind her fingers. “During which, a skilled instructor makes notes of the student’s reactions and decisions when dealing with some of the pitfalls and introductory problems of that school. The instructor’s decisions are announced at the conclusion of the tour, right when the new recruits reach the Seat of Pride.”
Now I was laughing, too. “I’m guessing that’s this tent, right here?”
Xora nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. “Welcome to Pride, Luke. Christina, you’re going to make one hell of a Wrath demon. And after your performance in the Lust school, a minor in succubus-style activities would be an excellent fit for someone of your caliber…”
My heart leapt into my throat. We’d done it! The tour was the test all along. There had never been any doubt. Christina and I were going to be exactly the demons we were meant to be.
As I went to embrace Christina and Mareth, the sound of a horn split the market. Onlookers froze in their tracks, commerce grinding to a halt as every head in the square turned toward the same place: the tent we’d stopped in front of. Xora’s jaw hit the floor as black smoke poured from the entrance, the single horn joined by a whole cacophony of demonic instruments. The bass thudded so loud it shook the stones of the market, sending wares off of their stalls.
“Oh, no fucking way,” Christina panted, looking like she’d just heard a celebrity was in town. “No way are we this fucking lucky on top of everything else…”
“What?” I asked, just as a figure emerged from the tent. The horns hit a crescendo, the beat dropping as an utterly beautiful demoness stepped from the flap and into the sun. A half-dozen retainers crowded around her, kneeling as the elegantly dressed woman stretched to her full height and took in the sight of the market.
“Oh fuck,” Mareth hissed. She ducked behind Christina and me, not wanting this person to see her. How could she not, though? This was the most attractive demon I’d ever laid eyes on. The kind of woman men burned empires for, conquered cities and sailed the seven seas to meet.
“Headmistress,” Xora said, dropping smoothly to her knees. Around the square, demons hastened to do the same. “It is a privilege to be in your presence…”
Oh shit. I dropped to the dirt next to Christina, inadvertently revealing Mareth standing behind me. The succubus gave a squeal and tried to hide behind a nearby palm, doing a terrible job of it.
The demoness chuckled. “Luke,” she purred, my voice in her mouth the sweetest thing I’d ever heard. “Rise.”
I did. In more ways than one. I had to adjust my robes as I stood.
Strong men were putty before this woman, I could tell. It took every bit of steel in my backbone not to fall back to my knees and mindlessly praise her beauty. Only with a great effort did I manage a tiny bow, inclining my head.
“H-hello,” I said, tapping into my power. The feeling of anxiety receded; I stood straight again. “I’m Luke.”
“Oh, I know who you are,” the demoness purred, resting her hand on a retainer’s head. “I’ve heard so much about you. My husband has really taken a shine to you—especially for a human.”
Husband? But that meant...oh no…
The demoness grinned as if she could read my thoughts. “It’s so good to meet you,” she said, inclining her head. “My name is Lilith. I’m Lucifer’s wife.”
Chapter 19
“Allow me to extend an official welcome to both of you,” Lilith purred, her long nails playing along a fringe of her exquisite robes. “You’ve passed your respective entrance exams for the Infernal Academy, and can now be considered part of our newest crop of students. Congratulations.”
The words barely registered. I stood frozen in my tracks, spell-bound by the demonic beauty of the woman in front of me. It wasn’t a surprise that Lucifer had a wife—if anything, as the Archlord of Hell, he was entitled to a harem the size of any great conqueror throughout history. I’d just never expected him to have such a sexy wife.
It’s like Santa Claus. You’d expect the woman beside him to be some kind-faced, sweet matron—not a sleek beauty dressed like the head priestess at the temple of a fertility goddess. One look at Lilith and I completely understood why the Prince of Darkness
took her as a wife.
Christina was just as surprised as me, but for entirely different reasons. “Oh my Satan,” she whispered, rising smoothly beside me at a hand signal from Lilith. “I’ve heard so much about you, Headmistress! I never expected to be brought into your presence—I never hoped for such an honor…”
“All good things you’ve heard, I hope,” Lilith purred. She acted like reactions such as Christina’s were par for the course, like a celebrity who’s used to being chased down by adoring fans. “I didn’t watch your entire entrance exam, of course, but I did see that little fracas in the Arena over at the Wrath School. Those were excellent moves. You’ll be a credit to that house, Christina.”
Tears sprung to the blonde’s eyes at the compliment. “Oh Headmistress, thank you so much! Wait...does that mean I’m officially in Wrath? I’m a wrath demon?”
Lilith snickered. She had the cold, cruel face of an empress for sure—those cheekbones of hers could cut glass. Again the urge to drop to my knees before this demoness coursed through me, though it was weaker this time. Good thing, too. Doing that would be even more embarrassing than Christina treating her like Taylor Swift.
“I was going to let a retainer read the final results,” Lilith said, gesturing around the square, “but why not. After all, you two are no ordinary students. My husband’s told me so much about you…”
Dimly, I realized that everyone within earshot had stopped what they were doing and watched in silence, as captivated by Lilith as I was. I got the distinct impression face-to-face contact with the Headmistress was a rare thing, indeed—and from the looks on some of the demons watching, not necessarily a thing to be desired. I could understand that—this woman looked like she could dispense fury just as easily as grace.
Lilith cleared her throat. “Your performance in the Arena bodes well for your fighting skills,” the Headmistress intoned. “And your...extracurricular activities during your tour of the Lust school speak of a particularly strong zeal for the pleasures of the flesh. That part was quite enthralling, if I do say so myself…”
Christina had gone red as a stop sign. I couldn’t see my own face, but I was sure I looked much the same. Lilith had been spying on us then, too?
“As such, I am pleased to confer to you the title of Wrathlust,” Lilith finished, leaning over and tapping one of Christina’s shoulders. It was a simple gesture, yet for a moment the air crackled with potential energy. Christina looked as solemn as if she’d been knighted. “A major in the Wrath school and a minor in Lust, as you so astutely guessed.”
I wondered if that meant my guesses would be correct, too. Honestly, I hadn’t given a ton of thought to what I wanted my minor to be. I just knew the Pride school was definitely for me. Wrath would be good; that way I could spar with Christina and keep an eye on her. Definitely not Envy, or Sloth—if Lilith had been watching when we’d toured those wings, she’d know those schools weren’t for me.
I didn’t have to wait long to have my curiosity sated. Before Christina could babble out another set of tearful thanks, Lilith turned smoothly to me. Those deep, almond eyes met mine, and I nearly groaned in response. The look she gave me went straight to my cock, and suddenly I was glad I’d tucked in my robes when I rose to my feet.
“As for you, Luke…” Lilith’s glossy lips pursed in a pout. “My husband and I spoke personally about your potential career path.”
I swallowed hard. The gazes of the demons watching sharpened, their interest piqued by the mention of Lucifer himself. As those around us fell silent, I heard a tiny groan from somewhere behind me.
“Like Hell she did,” Mareth whispered from her hiding place. “She hasn’t talked to Lucifer in at least a hundred years…”
If Lilith heard Mareth’s declaration, she gave no sign. “After a great deal of thought, and review of your performance during the tour, the Academy has decided to place you along the path of the Pridegreed. A major in Pride, with the full privileges of the Market along with it, and a minor in the Greed school.”
As soon as she said Pride, my knees threatened to give out from under me. It was exactly what I’d wanted—what I’d been hoping for from the moment I saw the Pride school. This place, more than anywhere else in the Infernal Academy, was my true home. Where I would shine above the rest of the demons, climb the ladder, and ascend to my future post as the Archlord of Hell.
“Thank you,” I said, bowing as Lilith tapped my shoulder the same way she’d done to Christina. A faint spark crackled near my neck as she did it, like the static shock you get rubbing socks on carpet and touching something metal.
Greed, huh? That wasn’t a bad choice, all things considered. I didn’t consider myself a terribly greedy person, though I also wouldn’t have called myself ‘proud’ before this whole business with Lucifer changed my life. Greed dealt with the claiming of mortal souls and binding people through contracts—both of which I’d have to know like the back of my hand if I was going to slip into Lucifer’s shoes. Plus, I enjoyed arguing with people—and I wouldn’t mind taking another look at that dragon…
As Lilith leaned in, delivering the tap, she suddenly closed in. Her lips brushed my ear, her voice dropping to a delightfully husky, feminine whisper. “Consider your schools more like general guidelines,” she purred, and I fancied I could feel the edge of her tongue against my lobe. “As a candidate for Archlord, you’ll be able to take selective classes in other Schools should you choose. The master of Hell is expected to be something of a Renaissance man…”
I’d figured as much. For a moment, I couldn’t think—the contact with Lilith’s tongue shocked me to my core. She let out a very un-headmistress like giggle, looking almost as girlish as Mareth for a moment, then gestured at the tent flap behind her.
“If you’d like to join me inside, we have just a small bit of your orientation remaining.” One of the retainers moved to the side of the flap, holding it open for his Mistress. The crowd around us began to disperse, sensing that the fun part was over.
We probably just have to sign some forms, I thought, staring at the square of darkness. Although knowing this place, we have to sign them in blood…
Christina and I shared a look, then followed Lilith to the tent. Feeling impetuous, I wrapped a hand around Christina’s waist and gave her ass a squeeze as we walked, casually asserting her status as one of my girls to anyone who wanted to see. I figured it was good to get that out in the open right up front, to keep things clear with any demons who might want to shoot their shot with the new girl.
We’d almost reached the tent when Lilith stiffened. She turned around slowly, a wicked smile spreading across her face. “One second,” the demoness purred. “I almost forgot that you brought another bit of business with you.”
At first I thought we’d done something wrong—then I realized Lilith wasn’t looking at us. I followed her gaze to the palm tree shading the market square, and the succubus in a schoolgirl outfit doing a terrible job of hiding behind it. From the look on Mareth’s face, she thought she’d gotten away with it. More likely, Lilith had seen her all along and was waiting for this moment, giving her hope only to snatch it away.
Lilith pointed at the ground in front of her with a kindly smile. “Come here,” she purred, gesturing at Mareth. “Don’t be frightened, child. You’re just as much a member of this group as Luke or Christina. Don’t forget, I’ve been watching you too.”
The change in Mareth surprised me. She pouted like a bratty teenager who’d been told she couldn’t go out after curfew as she marched up to Lilith, planting her feet firmly on the ground.
“Good afternoon, Headmistress,” she growled icily, folding her arms beneath her breasts.
Lilith just stared at her. The moment lengthened, turning awkward. Neither of them moved a muscle—they just stared at each other, waiting for the other to blink.
Finally, Mareth sighed and rolled her eyes. “Good afternoon, Auntie,” she said, like the word had to be dragged out of her wi
th hooks.
Lilith laughed at that— a rich, musical sound. “That’s better,” she said, tapping the side of one crimson cheek with an obsidian-black nail. “Why don’t you come here and give your auntie a kiss?”
“Not on your life,” Mareth murmured. She resumed glaring, as if this was the new line in the sand the succubus was trying not to cross.
I found the strength to speak. “Auntie?”
Mareth gave me an awkward look. Thankfully for her, nearly the entire crowd had cleared out at this point, going back to whatever wheeling and dealing they’d been busy with at the Market. “Yeah, Lilith is technically my aunt. My mom and Lucifer were a thing for a while, and then she had me.”
“He had quite a taste for succubi around the end of the 90’s,” Lilith murmured, looking not altogether happy about it. “I blame that awful show with the witches who were sisters. We should have never installed cable TV down here…”
I remembered Lucifer singing Mareth’s mom’s praises when he first introduced me to the succubus as my guide. I should have realized then that he’d sampled the goods himself, and that his interest in Mareth had been more fatherly than a simple ‘mentor-mentee’ relationship. I wondered just how many kids the Prince of Darkness had fathered over the years, and how many I might run into on my way to becoming Archlord.
“I consider myself an Auntie to every one of my husband’s children,” Lilith said, doing such a perfect wicked stepmother routine that I got chills. “Even the ones born out of wedlock.”
A stormcloud passed over Mareth’s face. Rather than reply with a cutting remark, she turned to me. “My mother never wore Lucifer’s ring,” she explained, like it was no big deal. “But the two of them had a very passionate relationship. She still talks about it like it was just yesterday.”
Lilith’s expression soured. Clearly Mareth had just hit on what was a very sore subject for the Headmistress. Maybe Mareth hadn’t been exaggerating when she said Lucifer hadn’t talked to Lilith for a hundred years. Maybe he had more wives than he could count—or perhaps Lilith was just a cold fish in bed, so he preferred spending intimate time with other women. Either way, you could’ve cut the animosity between the older demoness and the young succubus with a knife.
