by Dante King
I didn’t. “Others?”
The corner of Lilith’s mouth curled in a smirk, and I realized she’d let me into this little narrative trap on purpose. She wanted to tell me. “A very special cohort of demons,” she purred, putting one hand over the other. Her nails raked the back of her hand, showing off like a model. “Very close to our Lord. The only demons to neither come from Hell itself or be transmogrified by a demonic entity or mortal.” Her eyes traveled to the ceiling. “They came from up there. That’s all I’ll say about them for now.”
For a moment, there was silence in the tent. Christina leaned over and put her hand over mine, sniffing loudly. I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that both she and Lilith were thinking about Lucifer’s mortality.
“I was a human once,” Lilith suddenly blurted. For a moment, she looked almost vulnerable. “I don’t suppose you knew that, did you? Either of you?”
Both Christina and I shook our heads.
“I don’t suppose you would,” Lilith purred, tapping a complicated rhythm across the tabletop with her nails. She paused so long I almost expected that to be it, then she continued. “Like you, I was not transmogrified in order to gain my demonic powers. My abilities have been augmented by my bond to the Prince of Darkness, of course—but my immortality came from a different source.” She gazed up at the ceiling, a hateful look spreading across her gorgeous face. “By him.”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know who she meant. “The Almighty?” I asked, provoking Christina to wince again and kick me. That name sounded too exalting, I supposed. “The Man Upstairs?”
“That’s a good name for him,” Lilith said ruefully. “Like a landlord—one who never shows up when you need your plumbing fixed or your fuse box reset, but always expects you to follow the rules.” She leaned forward suddenly, her ass lifting into the air behind her. Her tail was longer than Christina’s, and segmented with overlapping scales like a dragon’s. “You mean to tell me you’ve really never heard of the Lilith? The one they named the fair after?”
“I never paid much attention in Bible school as a kid,” I admitted.
“Not that it would have done you much good!” Lilith said with a laugh. “Considering your current occupation. Well, I’ll have you know, I was Adam’s wife. Before Eve—she of the forbidden fruit and the conveniently placed fig leaf. I never bothered with either, which might be why the ‘Man Upstairs’ cast me out in the first place.”
“You refused to serve,” Christina said, her eyes fixed on Lilith. She said it like she was talking about her favorite musical artist’s best album. “You told Adam to go fuck himself.”
“The world would be a better place if he had,” Lilith said with another laugh. “Much more peaceful. Anyway, once I was cast from the Garden, I bounced around a bit—on the rebound, you know how it is—and then I met him. Lucifer.”
“And the rest is history?”
Lilith’s smile widened. “Just as with Adam, I was our Lord’s first wife. The first woman to share his bed, to bear his children—to be called his partner. A woman like me is a Queen of Queens, Luke. Someone like me deserves the best of everything, wouldn’t you agree?”
Then, I had the weirdest vision.
Chapter 20
When the vision hit me, it washed over me so quickly that it took long moments to recover. Within the span of a blink, the tent and its stately desk vanished, replaced with a high-vaulted chamber that smelled of incense and sex. Cool, damp air covered my now-naked body, reminding me so much of the Lust School that for a moment that’s exactly where I thought I’d been teleported.
Then pleasure coursed through me, and I realized something far stranger had just occurred.
Lilith—the same Lilith I’d just been speaking to—hung upside-down from the ceiling, her sinuous legs wrapped in long, dark belts that suspended her upright. She writhed against me, presenting her spread pucker for my cock as I plunged deep into her tightest, most forbidden opening. Lilith and I were fucking in mid-air. The wings I’d summoned in Wrath’s arena fluttered gently behind me, holding me aloft as I fucked Lucifer’s wife in the ass.
Holy shit, I thought, dazed. What is happening…!
“Harder!” the phantom Lilith whined, gagging around the word like I had my cock buried down her throat. Only I was fucking her ass. I glanced down, trying to get a better look at the gorgeous demoness, when I became aware that those weren’t belts around Lilith’s legs.
They were my tendrils. I’d summoned my shadow power at some point during this sex, and apparently I’d learned to use them to their fullest extent. A half-dozen of the thin, flexible tendrils wrapped around themselves like a coil of rope to pound her tight demon pussy, stretching her walls in multiple directions at once. More filled her mouth. It was these she spoke around: sucking and slurping at them with her long tongue as she spread her ass wider for me.
“Yesh, Luke, yesh! Ahh, I haven’t been fucked like this in centuries…!”
What was this? A vision of what was to come—a transmission from the Ghost of Booty Call Future? Was I really going to fuck Lucifer’s wife? Or was this some prank she’d beamed inside my head, trying to throw me off-balance?
The vision dissolved as quickly as it came, leaving me staring at the real Lilith. The demoness yawned theatrically, but the look in her eyes was heat incarnate. I crossed one leg over the other in my seat, hiding the bulge that had sprung up the moment the vision started. God damn that felt so real…
Christina stared at us both, looking from one to the other as I gazed into Lilith’s eyes. “Um, did I just miss something?”
“Nothing at all,” I said, blinking first. Christina didn’t need to know about this—I wasn’t sure anyone needed to know, in point of fact. Lucifer was my patron, the source of my powers. The idea that I might go to bed with his wife—might have insanely kinky sex with her using the very powers he gave me—would probably not endear me to the hearts of many demons.
I’d definitely be thinking about it later, though. In great detail.
“You’re set on inheriting his throne, aren’t you?” Lilith asked, a new emotion entering her eyes. I could tell she hadn’t quite made up her mind about me yet—although her sensual interest in me was beyond question, after whatever that was. “You haven’t changed your mind about that, have you, Luke?”
How could she even ask that? “Of course not,” I said, meaning it. “That’s the goal, Lilith. I’m a candidate for Archlord—and I intend to be the candidate.”
“Top of the heap,” Christina said with a laugh, squeezing my thigh. “King of the hill.”
Lilith pouted theatrically. Her bottom lip protruded from her coldly beautiful face, a gesture that didn’t suit her at all.
“My poor husband,” she whimpered, her shoulders beginning to shake. “I can’t believe he’s on his way out the door! My husband, the Prince of Darkness, shuffling off this mortal coil and leaving Hell without a leader! Oh, what shall I ever do without him…!”
You don’t give a shit, I realized, trying not to stare. It couldn’t have been more obvious that Lilith’s distress at Lucifer’s impending demise was faked. Despite her great beauty and presumably consummate power, acting was not one of her strong suits. Christina felt the same thing; her smile froze on her face, a little of the starstruck expression she’d had since she met Lilith fading.
Again I asked the question I’d posed to Mareth and Christina—as one of Lucifer’s wives, Lilith might have a better answer than most. “Do you know why he’s dying?” I asked, shaking my head back and forth as I set the now-empty mug of coffee on the edge of the desk. “Does anyone?”
“If he knows,” Lilith said bitterly, “he certainly hasn’t confided in me.”
Maybe you have something to do with it, I thought. But even as the idea occurred to me, I dismissed it. Not that Lilith didn’t have a motive, or something to gain from Lucifer’s death. But she was functionally trapped inside the Infernal Academy: like
a bird in a golden cage. I couldn’t see her having the means or the opportunity to strike down the Prince of Darkness.
Besides, it almost felt too easy. Any good detective always suspected the spouse in a murder case, but this felt too obvious. Too out in the open. So much so that I intended to ask Lucifer the next time I met him, just to clear it up. Either way, the next time I found myself face-to-face with the Devil, I intended to get some answers.
“No one knows the day or the hour when the Prince of Darkness will finally cross over for good,” Lilith explained, her tone solemn. “Which is why it’s important to me that we have an heir in place when Lucifer finally does die. Hence, the Archlord trials.”
It took a few seconds for the implication of this to sink into my brain. “Hopefully we’ll have enough time,” I said, glancing at Christina to confirm. “I can’t believe I never asked this before—is the Infernal Academy a four-year institution? Most colleges are, but I’ve never been to one in Hell before.”
Lilith nodded as if she’d expected this question. Finally, we were back on firmer ground—I could sense our little detour about Lucifer’s mortality had left her somewhat shaken.
“We don’t base our classes on anything as restrictive as years,” the Headmistress explained with pleasure. “Our instructors teach the relevant skills to demons, giving them hands-on instruction in the impious and infernal Arts. Then, you are tested. Once a student passes their tests, they’re promoted to the next rank in that particular school.”
“It sounds like things could get a little lopsided,” Christina said, her face skeptical. “What if a demon excels in one area, but struggles in another? Take me for example. I’m a Wrathlust—what if I rise higher in the Wrath school than I do in the Lust one?”
“Oh, you definitely won’t struggle with Lust,” I growled, raking her up and down with my gaze.
Christina had the temerity to blush, but I could tell she’d be doing something very different if Lilith weren’t present. Probably getting a little more of that ‘hands-on’ experience the Headmistress kept going on about.
“Even so,” Christina said. “It’s a possibility, right?”
“It can be,” Lilith said, giving us both another one of those expansive shrugs. “But it’s not something most demons run into, in my experience. Most do put more emphasis on their majors rather than their demonic minors, to be sure, but there’s an equal amount of experience to go around.” A wicked grin rose to her face. “Besides, you’ll be sampling all our classes, won’t you, Luke?”
“Absolutely,” I said as Christina gave me a proud little glance. “I’m looking forward to sampling everything the Academy has to offer.”
“Oh, really? Everything?” Lilith leaned over in a way that made the Headmistress look less like an authority figure than a cougar on the prowl. “Perhaps you’d be interested in some private lessons later, then?”
Again, that vision of her riding me upside-down filled my mind. No amount of coffee could prepare me for that proposition.
“Any other rules we should be aware of before you let us go?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at the tent flap. Mareth must have been getting antsy by now. Maybe she’d found something fun to do, but I didn’t like the thought of her standing outside like some kind of puppy, waiting for us to finish up in here. “We’re both pretty wiped—I’d love to see these dorms…”
Lilith cleared her throat. “There is one thing,” she said, rising smoothly from behind the desk. “Normally, this would be taken care of at the admissions desk, but since you’re already here—ah, here we go…”
The beautiful demoness waved her hands in a complicated pattern, tracing symbols in the air. For a moment, there was the merest suggestion of a sigil in the space between her fingers—then the symbol erupted with light, forming a rent in the air. A subspace, I realized, watching as Lilith reached inside, a look on her face like she was waiting for someone to hand her something. I guess she wasn’t kidding when she said every demon has one…
What Lilith removed from her personal subspace was a massive tome, like one of those oversized Bibles they kept on display in historic churches. Only this thing was the antithesis of a Bible. Arcane symbols studded every inch of available cover space. The book crackled like pigskin as Lilith opened it and set it on the table. I swallowed hard, trying not to think of what they’d bound this book with.
“I’ll need just a little bit of your essence,” Lilith said, turning to a blank page. With a start, I noted columns of names stretching across the page, in letters so tiny they were almost unreadable. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt very much. Christina, you first, please. Give me your hand.”
When Christina wasn’t quite fast enough, Lilith took her wrist and tugged it over the page. The demoness’ fangs flashed, one of her long dark nails pressing into the pad of Christina’s index finger. Christina let out a tiny expression of pain as the nail pierced skin, drawing a black drop of blood from the newly formed wound.
“That’s better,” Lilith said, sounding like she was getting off on Christina’s pain. For all I knew, maybe she was. “Just touch it to the page, dear. Don’t be shy. You’ve signed enough contracts already—we know exactly who your soul belongs to…”
A drop of Christina’s blood trickled to the page. It landed just beneath the latest name in the column, sizzling like a spoonful of oil spilled on a hot stove. A thin plume of acrid black smoke poured from the page, obscuring the blood. When it faded, Christina’s name lay beneath the most recent one in the book.
“You are now an official student of the Infernal Academy,” Lilith intoned solemnly. “While the previous strictures on your soul remain, you’ve also pledged yourself to the Academy and all the evil for which it stands.”
“One Hell, under Lucifer, with lust and lechery for all,” Christina added, smiling faintly. “Your turn, Luke. Give Lilith your finger.”
With more than a little hesitation, I extended a hand. Lilith seized it like she was about to slide it between her slender thighs, yet all she did was take the same nail that had just pierced Christina’s finger and use it to cut into mine. The pain felt sharper than it should have, the world blurring for just a moment as if some power flared inside of me. Deep down, I knew whatever ritual this entailed involved far more than a single drop of blood.
More smoke poured from the pages, and my name appeared beneath Christina’s. Lilith’s hand remained on mine, caressing it, then she let go and allowed me to sink back into my chair.
“You know,” I said, “I was joking to myself about signing forms in blood when I came in here. I didn’t expect I might actually have to do it…”
Lilith laughed knowingly. “Congratulations, Luke. You’re now an official student of the Infernal Academy. Both of you might be a little drained after this ritual, despite the simplicity of it.”
I nodded, although I didn’t feel anything. The set of Christina’s shoulders belied a touch of weariness, but I felt as fresh as a spring daisy. Maybe it was the coffee—or perhaps Lucifer’s blessing gave me abilities beyond other demons.
“I know right now, the two of you probably want to go exploring,” the demoness laughed, as if remembering her own freshman days at the Academy. “Have some fun, see the sights—maybe even sow a few wild oats. But I highly recommend you get some rest. Your classes begin after next Sinday—which is the day after tomorrow—and you won’t get any leeway from your instructors just because you’re new. You have two days to get settled in, dears. Trust me, you’ll have plenty of time to have fun.”
As if Lilith had cast a spell for just that moment to illustrate her point, Christina yawned explosively. “Excuse me,” she said, holding the back of her hand over her mouth. “Yikes, I’m so sorry…”
“It’s quite alright,” Lilith said, rising from her chair. Apparently, our meeting with her was over. “My niece will escort you to the dorms. Give her my best—to all appearances to the contrary, I do care about her. I wish she’d be a
little bit nicer to her Auntie, that’s all.”
“Sure thing,” I said, flashing Lilith a big, fake smile. I’d seen what was behind those gorgeous, demonic eyes. Lucifer’s wife might have been one of the most talented charmers I’d ever seen, but there was something inside of her more ancient than the first shark who chowed down on an unsuspecting fish. I was damned sure Mareth had good reason to dislike her.
Mareth waited for us outside the tent, leaning against one of the pillars in the Market. She let out a relieved sigh as Christina and I emerged into the afternoon sun, as if she hadn’t expected us to escape in one piece.
“Luke,” she whispered, practically jumping into my arms. “Did she do the whole thing with the blood and the pricked finger?”
I started to laugh. Mareth felt good in my arms—hell, she even smelled good. I liked having her with us a lot.
“She does that with everyone, huh?” I asked. “I guess we should feel flattered.”
Mareth groaned and rolled her eyes. “She’s such a drama queen,” the succubus said, her tail running up my thigh. “The shit I could tell you about her, Luke. She’s been at the center of nearly every scandal the Infernal Academy’s had in the last thousand years.”
I could imagine. “Don’t worry,” I said, mentally going over my interactions with Lilith. “I’m pretty sure I let her know exactly which girls I’m looking to chase in my time here at this school.”
Mareth beamed. And yet, I couldn’t forget the crack about ‘older women’ I’d made in Lilith’s presence. Christina hadn’t forgotten, either, though she was good enough to not say anything. I had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time I ended up in a room with the beautiful Lilith: and it wouldn’t be the only time she made a pass at me.
Getting involved with one of Lucifer’s wives was probably one of the worst things I could do at the Infernal Academy—but when she looked like that, well...it might be too much temptation to resist. Up until that vision, I’d thought Lilith was bound by the same kind of magic that kept Christina and Mareth faithful to me. But after seeing the demoness suspended from the ceiling, I wondered if she’d found some way around Lucifer’s restrictions.