Oni nodded. “Of course, Master.”
“He lives on Level Twelve of the Dormitory,” Lilith giggled, crossing her arms beneath her ample breasts. “Western Wing, I believe. If you drop in on him now, you might be able to catch him unawares…”
Oh, I was damn sure of that. “Let’s go, Oni. We’ve got a lead.” As he made his way back to Christina and Mareth, I turned to Lilith. “Thank you for this, Headmistress. I won’t forget it.”
“See that you don’t,” she said, her nose wrinkling. I could tell she was still trying to figure out what I meant by a vision. “I’ll be calling on you soon, Luke. Make sure you are ready for my summons.”
I would. But first, I needed to teach this Karl a lesson.
By the time I was done, people were going to be betting on a very different candidate for Archlord.
Chapter 26
The walk back to the dorms was much faster than the leisurely stroll I’d taken away from them with Lilith. At this time of evening, even the few groups of demons on the green were scattered—as I made my way past them, they scattered further. It took some time for me to understand those frightened glances, so like Maddie’s as the demons tried to force their way into my trunk.
My wings were out. Along with them, my tendrils. I must have looked like an absolute fucking monster. A grin rose to my face. Good.
The guard who’d been sitting behind the desk the first time we’d entered the dorms had gone off-duty. In his place sat an imp roughly the color and dimensions of a can of Coca-Cola. He looked up as we entered, his steely eyes glinting with irritation. “Got your passes…?”
He trailed off as I approached the counter, looking up and up. My wings brushed the ceiling of the vestibule, tendrils spreading over the sprinkler system as my power pushed out in all directions at once. I couldn’t help it—I was pissed.
“I’m looking for someone,” I growled, barely able to form the words around my demonic form. “Karl. Level Twelve. What room?”
It was strange how much sharper my senses were in this form. I could feel the wheels turning behind the imp’s eyes as he weighed the potential trouble he’d be in for breaking confidentiality versus the hurt I’d put on him for keeping his mouth shut. I could feel Mareth and Christina’s arousal—Lilith was right, the succubus was basically walking around squeaking from being so turned on—and could even sense the bond I’d slammed over Oni’s will. That last one tasted like biting down on the edge of a rusty knife, but I refused to shy away from it. It was my fault it was there, after all.
The imp reared back in his seat. “I’m not supposed to—”
Tendrils slammed on the table, making the guard jump a foot out of his seat. “Wrong answer.”
“Twelve-seventy-two,” the imp blurted, his hands shaking. “Second to the end of the hall, the big black door. You can’t miss it.”
I turned away without a word, heading for the elevator. Christina and Mareth followed in my wake, a sharp look from Oni enough to keep any other demons from thinking of getting involved.
The four of us squeezed into an elevator and waited for it to rise. An awkward silence reigned, punctuated by occasional worried glances from Christina and Mareth.
“So,” Christina said, trying to break the tension. “What’s the Infernal Academy’s official policy on murdering fellow students?”
It was meant in jest, but Mareth pursed her lips thoughtfully at the question. “It’s fair game,” she said with a shrug, “as long as it’s not a permanent kill. You have to do way more than just rip a demon apart to kill them completely. There’s a certain level of leeway given to students in Hell for just such an occasion…”
“I’m going to do more than just rip him apart,” I growled, watching one floor give way to the next. “If this Karl fucker has so much as laid a finger on Maddie, I’m going to turn him inside out. Then you can tell me exactly how much damage I have to do to make that shit permanent.”
Mareth swallowed hard. “You’re joking, right? I know you’ve managed to get Lilith on your side—you might want to watch your back with that one, by the way—but even she wouldn’t be able to get you off the hook for irreversible destruction of a student.”
“I don’t think he cares,” Christina said mildly.
The elevator dinged, announcing we’d reached our floor. “She’s right,” I said, jerking a thumb at Christina as I stepped out. “I don’t.”
Level Twelve must have been some kind of deluxe, luxury-level of the dormitories. Somehow that felt appropriate—like I’d stepped into the final boss’ lair in a video game. The hallway was black stone, with a thick blood-red carpet covering the floor that must have taken thousands of hours of stitching to get just right. The ceiling drew up into a high arch over the actual dorm rooms themselves, like the four of us were walking through a cathedral.
“How many shards does one of these suites cost?” I asked as we made our way towards Karl’s room.
“If you have to ask,” Mareth said, giving a door with an inlaid gold skull-and-crossbones motif the side eye, “then you can’t afford it.”
I answered with a grunt. “This one’s got to be it,” I said, pointing. “The one with the guards.”
Towards the end of the hall, one door loomed larger than the others. In fact it was a set of double-doors, with massive skull-shaped knockers like the entrance to Dracula’s castle. A pair of beetle-backed demons who looked like they could be Aztomund’s cousins lounged on either side of it,
