Lucifer Reborn by Dante King (the reader ebook .TXT) 📗

“That’s really cool,” I agreed, sliding an arm around Christina’s waist. “I had no idea demons were into sports. I guess it makes sense, though—you’ve got to keep your mind and body sharp when you’re dealing with mortals.”

“Exactly,” Xora said, smiling. The too-sharp teeth shining in her mouth gave a dangerous edge to her beauty. “Do you swim, darling?”

It took Christina a moment to realize that Xora was talking to her. “Me? Oh, um...yeah! I mean, I love going to the beach.”

Xora looked Christina up and down, her gaze lingering on the blonde’s thighs. “I’m sure you look quite a figure there,” the rusalka drawled in her strange accent. “I’d love to get you nice and wet some time…”

Mareth let out a little yelp. “Xora, this is Christina,” the succubus said, putting a hand on the small of Christina’s back. Taking the hint, Christina did a little curtsy, nodding before the rusalka.

“Very nice.” Xora squinted, as if there were tiny words written on Christina’s face and she was having trouble reading them. “You have only recently become a demon, is that correct?”

Christina gave a little start. Clearly, she hadn’t expected Xora to clock that so quickly. “Yes —I used to be human. Though I worshipped the Prince of Darkness in that form, as well. How did you know…?”

“It’s the eyes,” Xora said smugly, indicating Christina’s gaze. “You can change every other aspect of your body, but a Mog will always have those. They’ll give you away every time.”

“What’s a ‘Mog’?” I asked. I hadn’t liked the way Xora said it—as if other demons might spit on the ground with such a word in their mouth.

“Short for transmogrified,” Xora explained. “Meaning someone who wasn’t born a demon, but became one. Technically you’re in the same class of being as well, Luke—although no one would dare say that to your face. ” She gave Christina another smug look. “Don’t worry about it, darling. We’re very progressive here.”

Somehow I doubted that. I didn’t like the idea of anyone discriminating against Christina. Being looked down on by demons would definitely cut through the excitement of attending the Infernal Academy.

Xora noticed this as well, and she became eager to change the subject. “Who turned you, darling?”

“That would be Luke,” Mareth said, only a trace of nervousness in her tone as she gestured at me. “Luke, Xora—Xora, Luke. Christina’s the first official member of his, ah...entourage.”

Xora’s eyebrows shot to her hairline at that. They shot up even further when Mareth added in a low tone: “he’s one of the candidates for Archlord of Hell.”

The rusalka let out a high, ululating cry, startling two nearby demons who’d been checking the three of us out from the stairs leading up to the admissions office. Her bare feet stamped the stone, going up onto her toes for a moment as she scrutinized me with greater vigor.

“Hmm...yes. Yes!” Xora stepped around me, tracing a swift circle around the spot where I stood. “I can definitely see why Lucifer would choose this man to represent humanity at the Academy. And to think he’s already bonded with a woman deeply enough to perform a demonic transformation...well!” Suddenly she was in my face, peering at me nearly eye-to-eye. “You haven’t even signed up for a single class yet, and I’m already thinking of placing my bet on you!”

Her gaze should have unnerved me. Instead, I found myself thinking about something she’d said a moment ago.

“Uh...candidates? As in, plural?” I glanced from Mareth to Xora.

Xora was nonplussed. “Yes, of course. Were you not aware of that?”

I hadn’t been. “Lucifer made it sound like I’d already passed whatever audition he wanted from me,” I said, trying to keep the disappointment from my voice. “He sure as hell talked to me like I was his only candidate for the job…”

“Oh, no,” Xora said. Her eyes glittered with mirth, like she hadn’t expected the new guy on campus to be quite so naive. “Of course not. It wouldn’t be the Prince of Darkness’s style to just hand the keys over to the first person who comes along, now would it?”

That...made a certain amount of sense. I could admit that. Still, the revelation stung. My fatherly chat with Lucifer had left me favorably predisposed to the man—even thinking that maybe he wasn’t as bad as thousands of years of literature had led me to believe.

Idiot, I told myself. How many people throughout history fell for that shit? You really thought you could trust the LITERAL Devil?

“You said I represent humanity,” I told Xora, thinking through her words. “Does that mean that the other candidates for Archlord are all demons, like you?”

She looked a little put out. “They’re demons,” the rusalka growled. “But not like me. There are no demons like me, Luke.”

A hulking demon with the head of a goat trundled up the steps, nodded toward Xora, and made his way into the admissions office. The doors swung open automatically as he approached, revealing a lobby packed full of every kind of demon imaginable. Even in Hell, it seemed, people had to wait in line. The more I thought about it, the more I realized waiting in line was probably a natural part of Hell, the same as flames and torture. A multi-armed demon who resembled an Indian war goddess sat behind the desk, stamping admissions papers in a flurry of motion.

The hulking demon looked eager to get his classes approved—and more than a little irritated at the length of the line. Like several of the demons I’d seen on the way in, he wore loose-fitting track pants and a casual top, though the v-neck tank top that stretched across his torso had clearly been chosen to emphasize his muscles. This guy was ripped, like a champion weightlifter without the steroids. Strange runes covered his arms and legs,