Chapter 18: Ashtaroth

I stare at my viscera-covered hand and flex my fingers into a fist.

How is it possible for one person to come so close to death as frequently as my lamb does? She is a magnet for mayhem, the wolves always circling, waiting to strike.

I narrow my eyes in thought. Sheep are in danger from wolves in a field… but not when confined to a stable.

"Naamah!" I yell into the ether, my voice echoing through the empty throne room. For someone who spent eons in tight control of his emotions, I certainly am displaying a multitude of them now.

The succubus pops into existence in front of me, immediately assuming her usual alluring posture: her red- tipped fingers resting on a slim waist, curved hip cocked out, head tilted playfully, curls spilling over the generous amounts of skin on display. Her wings are out of sight today.

"Uncle, I told you already, I don't know where Father is," she pouts, her bright red lips dewy and glistening.

"I have a task for you," I say calmly.

"Oh?" she perks up immediately, her spade-tipped tail swishing animatedly behind her. "What kind of task?"

I grin, already relishing the culmination of my plan. Asmodai would enjoy the lengths I am going to in order to fuck this intriguing mortal out of my system.

My grin fades and I grit my teeth. We need to find out where my brother is and staunch this exodus from Hell into the mortal realm – our existence depends on it.

I exhale through my nose and return my attention to Naamah. My niece is used to the prolonged spells of stillness and quiet that come with being older than the dirt under my bastion – time is often of little consequence to ancients.

"When the time is right, I need you to fuck a Cambion boy to distraction. I don't want him thinking of anything but being between your legs for as long as possible. Feed until he is weak." I pause for a beat and then add, grumbling, "Do not kill him." The lamb seems to be fond of the lanky young male that's often by her side, and I can always dispose of him later should he prove a nuisance.

She cracks her tail like a whip and those luscious lips spread into a siren's call of a grin.

"It will be my pleasure, Uncle."