by Dante King
“Got a couple newbies, Lou,” Mareth said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder as we approached. “I want to take them up to 7th, see if Sophe can get them situated.”
The imp peered over Mareth’s shoulders, its large wings flapping with irritation. Unlike most demons I’d seen, whose wings tended to be small and either batlike or insectoid, the imp’s wingspan looked to be several times larger than his own body. Bet it saves him money on blankets, I thought.
“The Mog and the Human are no problem,” he said, tapping a clipboard. “The big guy might need a specialty suite, though.”
“We’ll take care of him,” Mareth assured the imp. “Just get these two a visitor’s pass. Cool?”
The imp shrugged. “Sure.” In short order, Christina and I signed our names (no blood needed this time, just ink), and received glossy stickers with the word VISITOR written on them in black block letters. “Have a nice day.”
Chapter 22
Mareth led us to a great glass elevator at the rear of the lobby. No, not one elevator—a whole bank of them, five or six in total. None of them were idle, and I got the impression they almost never were. Groups of giggling demons got on and off constantly, either coming back to rest after classes or heading out for a night on the town. Although there was lots to do from just what I’d seen so far.
“The dorms are practically their own self-contained ecosystem,” Mareth said as we stepped into the elevator, as if she’d been reading my thoughts. We’d had to wait a trip or two, as Oni took up so much space we weren’t able to bring any extra demons up with us. “We have our own gymnasium and swimming pool, an arcade, a bowling alley, and a nightclub. While the food and drink options don’t quite match up to the full array on sale at the cafeteria, there’s still plenty of vending machines for a late-night nosh.”
Before long, I had my face pressed up against the glass. Christina did the same—we couldn’t help it. We were like kids in a candy store: every floor brought some new wonder, some new delight for beautiful young demons and demonesses to enjoy. Demon girls in bikinis swam laps across one floor’s Olympic-sized pool, while a half-dozen hot tubs full of drunk babes studded the other side. The next floor appeared to be dark, before it was raked by neon lights—this was the club Mareth had just mentioned. We could barely see through all the smoke, but it definitely looked like the kind of place Christina and I could tear up an evening. Probably with a few friends, too.
“Floor seven,” Mareth announced, pulling us back from the glass as the button with a big stylized ‘7’ lit up. “Stand back, both of you. You don’t want to look like tourists, now do you?”
The door opened. A group of angels stood staring at us.
I tensed up, dropping into a battle stance, but Mareth’s hands were already going to my shoulders. The angels stepped into the elevator, laughing and joking, their halos stapled onto their horns with crude bits of string and adhesive.
I let out a laugh. These weren’t angels—they were demons playing dress-up.
“Theme party?” Mareth asked as the three of us stepped out of the elevator.
A nerdy-looking demon with thick glasses lifted his halo and nodded, giving her schoolgirl outfit a much longer look than was necessary. “Yeah, it’s Angel Night down in Limbo,” he said. “Bet you’d make a cute one!”
Damn, I thought. He might have looked like a dweeb, but he clearly wasn’t afraid to shoot his shot.
“I’m already spoken for,” Mareth purred, wrapping her tail around my waist. “You guys have fun, though!”
The demons dressed as angels cheered as the doors swung shut, leaving us alone at the entrance to the residential wing of the dorms. As soon as they were gone, Mareth pressed her body against mine, nearly nibbling the black lipstick off the bottom of her pout.
“I am spoken for, right?” she asked, sliding one thigh against the bulge in my pants. “You’re still planning on binding me, Luke? I can’t remember how many more times we need to do it before it’ll happen for me, but trust me—I’m more than willing, however long it takes…”
I kissed her. My tongue slid into her mouth, the taste of cinnamon and brimstone melding on my tastebuds. “Absolutely,” I growled, breaking the kiss. “As soon as we can get a bed under us.”
“Good,” Mareth agreed with a giggle. “Let’s get to work on that, then.”
“Can’t wait,” Christina said, giving the succubus a sly smile. “I’m looking forward to having you on the team, Mareth. And I’m even more looking forward to testing a hypothesis of mine.”
Mareth looked over her shoulder as we made our way down the hall. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
Christina’s grin turned savage. “Whether only orgasms Luke gives you count,” the beautiful demon purred, “or whether bound demons can do it, too. Because if I can, I’m going to make sure you lose your binding cherry all over my sweet little tongue…”
Mareth’s face flushed even redder than usual as she turned away. “Uh, wow. Yeah, I’m definitely looking forward to joining you two…”
Just around the corner, the hallway widened out into a suite of dorms. Windows looked out on the courtyard, evenly spaced in the walls. While the outside of the dormitory was an imposing obsidian edifice, the interior looked so much like my old college I’d kind of gotten used to it without thinking. Sure, the place was nicer—a lot nicer—but it still felt like home.
Another booth with a desk inside waited just at the entrance. It reminded me of the check-in counter at a hotel—not the super-fancy kind, just your ordinary Hampton Inn. Behind the desk stood a woman so human-looking that I initially assumed she was a human. The only recognizably demonic thing about her was a pair of short, stubby horns sticking from either side of her forehead, like a miniature version of a billy goat’s. She was short—shorter than Christina and Mareth, neither of whom came up to my chin. She’d be about as tiny compared to either woman, what some of the cruder guys back at college would have referred to as a spinner. Meaning you could pick her up in the middle of sex and spin her like a top, and she’d probably like it.
This woman didn’t particularly look like she’d like that—at least, not right now. She was in the middle of yelling at two other demons, one of whom cowered on the other side of the desk while the other kept trying to defend themself. Neither approach seemed to be calming her down in the least.
“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times,” the short demon growled, sounding like every overworked RA I’d ever met, “no spells after midnight!”
“We were just having fun,” the demon who hadn’t cowered tried to explain, wiggling his arms. He had long, flexible tendrils like an octopus, only even more than the eight an octopus would have. “We weren’t trying to hurt anyone…!”
The short demon in charge sighed. “We were this close to having a full-on hex drill last night, Carlton. At three in the morning! Both of you know the hex alarms get super sensitive after midnight, because no one in the dorms is supposed to be casting any spells. So do me a favor, and take care of all your dick charms and weed duplication cantrips before the magic hour, okay? Save us all the trouble?”
“Yes, Sophe,” both demons grumbled. Within moments, they’d left the desk, looking properly chastened. The small woman wiped her hands on her leggings, noticed us standing there, then gave a start and came around the desk. When she did, I nearly whistled—damn, this girl was stacked. She might have been a spinner, but she had curves in all the right places.
“Hey, Mareth,” the woman the demons had called Sophe said. Instead of shaking hands or hugging, she and Mareth did a strange thing where they kind of bumped their boobs together, leaving them both jiggling. “Who are the new kids? You need me to find them a room?”
“Sophe,” Mareth giggled, holding a hand toward the two of us with great pride, “this is Luke and Christina. The new Archlord candidate and his Mog—so she’ll need a pass to share his bed.” Mareth waited a beat. “So will I.”
&nbs
p; This last bit escaped Sophe’s notice for the moment. She was too intent on the both of us to hear it.
“Hold up,” Sophe said, her face lighting up. “You’re the two demons who kicked Bryan and Aztomund’s asses in the Wrath Arena?”
There wasn’t much to the entrance to the dorms proper, but there were a couple of couches sitting around and a TV on the wall in one corner. It looked to be some sort of demonic cooking show, where a gorgeous female demon in a chef’s outfit showed off recipes sure to claim the stomachs and souls of mortals. I was pretty sure the cookbook she had on and kept holding up about ‘serving man’ meant it in more ways than one.
The few demons who’d gathered there to hang out recognized the name Aztomund, and suddenly all eyes in the lounge moved to stare at us. Great.
“That would be us,” I said, sliding a hand around Christina’s side. She took my hand and slid it under one of her breasts, because she knew everyone was watching. “I guess word travels fast in the Academy, huh?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” the demoness said with a smile. “I’m Sophe, by the way. RA for the Eastern Wing of the Seventh Floor—home to just over a hundred demons. Probably well over a hundred now with you here. It’s nice to meet you!”
Unlike Mareth, I didn’t get the bumping-boob treatment, which was probably just as well. I still didn’t know my own strength, and I would’ve hated to knock a little thing like her over.
“I’m going to apologize in advance if this is a rude question,” I said, stepping between the gawkers and Sophe. “But when we first got to this floor, I almost thought you were another human. I’ve never seen a demoness quite like you before, Sophe.”
Her jaw dropped. “You think I’m exotic?” she asked, looking down at herself like I’d just told her she should consider a career as a runway model. “Geez, I’m just a garden variety yokai, Luke. We make good choices for jobs like Resident Assistant, because we’re very territorial. You’ll probably see plenty of girls like me around the Academy…”
She’s shy, I thought, smirking to myself. Well, maybe not shy—but definitely unused to compliments…
Something dark flashed in my vision. It was like I was seeing this girl the way Lucifer would see her—as a resource, something that could improve my fortunes if used in the right way. And being on good footing with the RA of my dorm could only be a good thing…
I took her hand and kissed it, like the good guy in an old movie. I felt her pulse quicken, thumping like a hummingbird’s wings where my thumb caressed her wrist. Oh yeah, that dark thing inside of me whispered. She’s into me. A little attention and this girl could be putty in my hands…
Where was this coming from? I didn’t care—it felt good.
“Wow,” Sophe whimpered, slowly bringing her hand to her cleavage. “I, uh, I don’t know what to say, Luke…”
“He’s a charmer,” Mareth said with a wry smile. Yet there was a touch of irritation there, too. Looks like someone’s jealous, I told myself. She hasn’t been bound yet, and she really, REALLY wants to be…
If I didn’t plow Mareth’s field soon and make her mine, she’d probably rip my clothes off in public and make what Christina did in the Lust School look tame by comparison. We had to get on the move.
“I was thinking Luke needs one of the special rooms,” Mareth said, wiggling her eyebrows. “As an Archlord candidate, he’s already got a subspace you could drive a truck through. Maybe one of the ‘bring your own kit’ suites?”
Sophe thought it over for a moment, then moved back behind the desk. When I leaned over, I saw a laptop on the other side with a floor plan of the dorms—along with a generous expanse of Sophe’s cleavage. She caught me looking and winked, fully enchanted with me now.
“I’ve got just the thing,” she said, tapping a button on the laptop. “It looks like it’s the only one of its class available right now, so it is going to cost you.” She put a finger to her lips, pursing them in thought. “But an Archlord candidate should be able to afford it, right?”
I should? That was news to me. “How much are we talking?” I asked, glancing at Mareth. She’d know better than me about a thing like this.
With a start, I realized I didn’t have a clue about demonic currency, or how it corresponded to Earth money. I only knew about coins and jewels because I’d seen them in the Greed School, being guarded by that dragon. But those had been special cases—a living emblem of the contract for a mortal or demon’s soul. Surely these demons didn’t use such precious currency in vending machines?
“Two hundred shards,” Sophe said, her tone telling me that was quite a bit of money, indeed. “I’m sorry—normally I’d try to cut you in on a better rate. But it really is the only one available…”
I could see the frustration in Mareth’s eyes. “Screw it,” the succubus growled, speaking low enough that Sophe couldn’t hear. “The things I do to get laid…”
As Sophe pulled out a device connected to the laptop by a long cord, Mareth sighed and raised her palm. A glowing symbol appeared at the center, stretched between her fingers. Sophe’s device pressed against the golden aura on Mareth’s palm, and it flickered before an electronic ding filled the stall.
“Payment processed,” Sophe said, glancing at the screen. “It’ll take them just a minute to get the room ready.”
I decided to take this moment to get some more clarification about money. After all, it sounded like Mareth had just spent quite a lot of it on me.
“What are shards?” I asked, turning to the succubus while Sophe busied herself behind the desk.
“The primary currency of Hell,” Mareth said, looking down at her now symbolless palm. “What I just did was the demonic equivalent of swiping your credit card at a cash register. Only you definitely wouldn’t want to apply for credit down in Hell. The rates are killer, and I’m not talking about interest.”
“Duly noted,” I said, vowing to avoid them whenever possible. “Was that a lot of money, Mareth? I didn’t put you out at all, did I?”
Mareth remained staring at her palm for a moment longer, then shook herself out of her trance. “It’s really no big deal,” she said, shrugging. “I can always call my Mom and ask for some shards if things get really tight.”
Christina perked up. “Actually, shouldn’t you have some money?” she asked me, glancing at my palm. “Lucifer probably gave you some spending money back when he activated your powers. It wouldn’t do for an Archlord candidate to not have at least a little walking around change…”
Really? Interesting. “I might be sitting on a goldmine—who knows?” I held up my palm and ran a finger over it in a spiral, concentrating. “How do I make it work, exactly?”
“You’re doing it right,” Mareth assured me, taking hold of my wrist. “Just concentrate a little harder…”
I did. Numbers appeared on my palm, backed by a sigil that looked like two pentagrams layered on top of each other. Everyone must have their own personal design, I thought. Kind of like how credit cards have different numbers and pictures on them…
I should have expected my total. 666 shards, the glowing aura on my palm informed me.
Christina and Mareth watched it shimmer, each of them leaning over my opposite side. Like the angel and the devil on a guy’s shoulders, except in this case both of them were up to no good.
“Not too shabby,” Mareth said, nodding approvingly. “Lucifer definitely left you with enough to go shopping in the Market, but not so much that you won’t have to work a little bit to catch up. I know it seems like a lot, but it’ll run out eventually.”
“Let me pay you back,” I told the succubus, holding up my palm. Was it as easy as pushing mine against hers and thinking about it? Or did we need to go somewhere special for the transfer? “You just spent two hundred shards on my room.”
In response, Mareth just grinned. “Nah, it’s totally cool. But if you’re feeling guilty, maybe you could pay me in another kind of coin…”
I kn
ew what she meant. Her hands gripped my belt, like she wanted to tear it off me and go down right there in the middle of the student lounge.
My hands went to her hips. “I get it,” I growled, pinning her to me. My lips went to her ear, dropping to a husky whisper. “Don’t you worry about a thing, little demon girl — you’re getting bound. If you think I could go without feeling that hot demon pussy again, you’re sadly mistaken.”
Mareth let out a pleased squeal. “I’m not mistaken,” she purred, “just eager.” She batted her eyelashes hopefully. “As soon as we get to the dorms, right?”
“The very second there’s a locked door between us and the rest of the world,” I told her, my eyes boring holes into hers. “Then it’s on.”
The succubus held my gaze a moment longer, her thighs squeezing together. “Fuck yes,” she panted, her cheeks flushing with heat. “Sophe, how’s that room cleaning coming along? Is it ready yet?”
“Just finished up,” Sophe said, looking up from her laptop. “Everything’s linked up. It’s room 777, down at the end of the hall on the left.” She pointed, a look on her face like she kind of wanted to join in. “Enjoy.”
“Come on!” Mareth took my hand and Christina’s, leading us down the hall.
Some dorm rooms were open, a demon strumming a guitar or playing a video game. Several looked up and waved or nodded as we passed by.
I wouldn’t have minded introducing myself to some of the other students, but right now, if I didn’t fuck Mareth, the top might come right off the succubus’s head. I’d never seen anyone, human or demon, who needed it as badly as Mareth.
“Hang on a second,” I said as we reached the door. Mareth’s head turned sharply, and Christina was only barely able to restrain her. “Maddie’s in there.”
Both of my women shared a look.
“So?” Mareth asked. “You want her to join in, too?”
