Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“Sabrina, what the heck happened down there?” I stormed over to the suitcase and started riffling through the clothes, trying to find a shirt that was marginally less humiliating. “You took off like your tail was on fire.”
“I had no choice.” She was speaking so matter-of-factly. “There was a Belphe on your lap. The only option was to leave you to your fate.”
“What are you talking about?” I picked up a brown popcorn shirt, then tossed it away. “All he did was sleep on me—for the second time,” I gritted out. “Although, he did almost get me killed during our first meeting, so let me not pretend the guy isn’t dangerous. But who is he? Why did he scare everyone?”
“Scare?” She slithered over. “I don’t know a single demon who would admit to feeling fear. What you saw wasn’t fear, it was common sense. There wasn’t a soul in that room who could hope to best Ronin Belphe. Not with magic or physical strength. Not with cunning or seduction,” she said. “Only the suicidal provoke a fight they have no chance of winning.”
“Interesting,” I said—although it wasn’t really. After seeing Lucifer in his true form, and soiling myself, I’ve already met the fight I have no chance of winning. What’s one more? “Is he a fallen angel too? Is that why he’s so strong?”
“Angels—fallen or otherwise—cannot enroll in Abaddon,” she replied. “No, he is a demon. He’s the son of Lord Belphe and heir to House Belphe. And when I say son, I mean the true son. Lord Belphe is a lord of hell and the demon of sloth. You know the human lore of the seven deadly sins, yesss?”
I stopped my searching, focusing on her as I nodded.
“Well, the deadly sins are not traits or flaws, they are real beings who perfected a type of magic or skill so absolutely, they came to symbolize the very thing itself. Lord Belphe is sloth,” she stated. “And he became that way because he is a being so beautiful, so charming, so enchanting, so messsmerizing that with one mere look upon him, your sole wish in this life and every other becomes nothing more than to serve him. To feed him, bathe him, brush his hair, and carry him from room to room so that he may never do something so undignified as rest his feet upon the ground.”
My eyes bulged with every word. “I’m sorry, are you saying that’s what goes on in this Belphe guy’s house? He just lies around all flipping day while everyone steps over each other to feed him grapes and wipe his backside?”
“Yes,” she replied without a trace of irony. “For that is true sloth, human. It’s not the unwillingness to exert, it’s the sheer superfluity of acting. It’s not laziness, but foolishness to refuse to hunt when your stomach growls. True sloth is not even knowing what a hungry belly feels like because a full feast has always been prepared and waiting for you—along with a dozen eager hands clamoring to feed you.”
“Wow.” I rocked back—taking that in. “And so that Ronin guy is his son.”
“His true son. Female demons are infertile,” she said. “When a human dies and is sent to hell, their soul is stripped from their bodies as they step through the gates, and then they are returned to an infantile state. Adult demons then adopt these new demon babies as their own. But not Ronin,” she went on. “Centuries ago, a fertility goddess saw Lord Belphe and fell in love with him. She blessed him with a womb—which was unheard of then and now. Gods and goddesses do not grant blessings to demons—ever. But then, no other demon is as beautiful as Lord Belphe.
“She gifted him a womb and he gave birth to Ronin—a son who is said to be more beautiful and spellbinding than his father.”
“Is he?” The face of the jerk who stole my room, badge, and lap flashed through my mind. “He’s gorgeous, no question, but the only thing I want to do when I look at that face is to draw a mustache and stink lines on it. He sucks.”
Sabrina made a choked noise. “Are—! Are you insane?! You are not to even think of doing such a thing to Ronin Belphe! He is wearing a glamour, you fool. He’s hidden his true face, otherwise there’d be no hope of his learning a thing here. An instructor cannot teach you if they’re too busy serenading you in between kissssing your feet.”
“I bet.” I whipped out a heavily bedazzled nightmare and tugged it over my head. “Okay, I think I get what you’re saying. Not only is this guy magically super powerful, but all he has to do is drop the glamour, and you’ll turn into a slack-jawed moron who’s begging and mewling at his feet. You’ll either lose your life, or you’ll lose your interest in having a life outside of him.”