“And where have you been, exactly?” he said, frowning.
I cocked an eyebrow as my heels clicked to a stop, so that we were standing barely a foot apart. I scowled right back. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Pierce.”
He blinked, pressed his lips together, then stamped one foot, his tough demeanor shifting to that of an irritated teenager. “Dude, I’ve been so bored. And your tutor’s been hounding me all damn morning. You’ve got to stop sneaking out like that.”
I’d known Pierce my whole life, and I knew he hated being left out of things, especially fun things. I shook my head. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
“You know how he gets when he’s bored, Quill. He follows me around and nags me all day. He just wants someone to talk to all the time. Did I tell you how he tried to rope me into a lecture about demonic hierarchy last week?”
I sighed. “It’s Dantaleon’s whole deal, I think. Some people just want to be teachers forever.”
Pierce scoffed, folding his arms and pouting. “He had me trapped in that study for three hours,” he grumbled. “I was clawing at the walls. Can’t pick the locks when the locks are magical.”
“I’m sorry you had to sit through that,” I said, curving half my mouth into a grin, the way that I knew would annoy him. “Must have been positively awful for you.”
“Come on, man. At least warn me before you pull this shit so I can go into hiding. Or maybe I can come with you. I’m real sneaky. I’m good at stealing things.”
I lifted my nose. “First of all, I’m not a thief. I’m a collector.”
He grunted. “So you keep saying.”
“And second, I work best when I work alone.”
“Bullshit,” he growled. “Complete bullshit, and you know it.”
I was used to this sort of banter with Pierce. Again, in human terms, the guy was probably my closest friend. At his best, he was a relentless killer, a skilled fighter, and a cruel hand with a pair of daggers. At other times he was a pouty little shit when he didn’t get his way. My little brother, really, in everything but blood.
And yes, I’ll admit, it’s tough for me to judge him because I’m basically the same. Part of why we got along so well, I suppose.
Pierce was handsome, objectively speaking, but then again, I was pretty sure that was true for every incubus. Those were very common in Mother’s kingdom, as were succubi, naturally. Pierce kept his hair up and swept back from his face – to keep his field of vision clear and help him stab things, as he liked to say – and was fond of golden earrings and adornments, and not very much clothing above the waist, if I’m honest. Again, quite in fashion for an incubus his age, which was twenty-three, just one year younger than me.
The only physical trait he had that pointed to his demonic heritage was his impish smile. He had these fangs that had a habit of sticking out too much when he grinned. It meant that it was easier to bring him along to the earth plane for excursions because, like me, he wouldn’t need to wear a vessel or a husk to pass for human. I suppose it also ruled out any real reasons for me leaving him to fester at home. As for why Mother took a particular liking to this specific incubus, fostering him from such a young age and treating him like her own son – at times more favorably than even me – I’ll probably never know.
Pierce’s lip turned up even higher, to the point that I was worried it would eventually swallow up the top half of his face. I sighed, shaking my head, then relented.
“Fine. You can come along next time. We’ll make it an adventure. Just you and me, breaking and entering and maybe beating up one or two humans. Would you like that?”
He nodded briskly, perking up a little and giving me a small smile.
“But hey,” I added. “At least you didn’t have to deal with Mother looking for me.”
Pierce visibly quivered. “Dude. No. Hard pass. Give me Dantaleon any day of the week.”
“Gladly. I’m gonna go put this grimoire away, then maybe deal with Dantaleon. See you at lunch?”
Pierce kicked at the ground, still sore, but slightly appeased by the promise of companionship. “Fine,” he said, drawing out the syllable, his gaze flitting between my eyes and the floor.
I squinted at him. “Whiny baby.”
He squinted back. “Jerk.”
“You can do better than that,” I grumbled, sweeping past and leaving Pierce to sulk in the hallway.
He’d get over it. I had more important things to do. Find a proper place for my precious Testament, for example, and I guess defuse the ticking time-bomb that was Dantaleon’s temper. He had no functioning limbs, but when you’re smart and experienced enough, a voice is all you really need to cast powerful – and painful – magic. For the truly adept? No mouth required. Ah, to kill with a thought. A boy can dream.
A crimson carpet deadened my footsteps as I approached the end of a long hallway, the circular room where I kept my precious babies, arguably the most important and well-defended room in the entire estate. It was sacred to me, so much that it was essentially designed with ancient temples in mind. A pair of braziers flanked the ornate brass double doors leading into my Repository, their green fires burning cold. Hey, I’m not crazy. Those were there for atmosphere, not for paper-unfriendly heat. Magical heat was reserved for my sauna and indoor pool, two corridors
