A Demon's Guide to Wooing a Witch （Glimmer Falls, #2(121)

The council was having a vicious argument with Moloch, which was what Astaroth had hoped for, but the people needed to have a say as well. He faced the gathered onlookers, hybrid and pureblood alike. “Your council is flawed,” Astaroth announced. He nearly recoiled as his voice boomed. When he looked to the side, Mariel winked.

“They—we—are flawed,” he continued, the words magically amplified. “Greedy and power-hungry, hiding behind lies, inventing enemies to justify our actions. Moloch claims hybrids as the enemies, but in truth, they will be part of our deliverance.”

Something hit his side hard enough to send him staggering. When he looked down, he saw the hilt of Moloch’s dagger sticking out.

Calladia shrieked and launched herself at Moloch, taking the demon down. She punched him in the face repeatedly, sending blood spraying, before Ozroth took over the beating. Mariel started murmuring a spell.

Calladia hurried to Astaroth’s side. Moloch’s blood painted her knuckles and was spattered over one cheek. “We need to get you to a doctor,” she said.

Astaroth swayed, feeling light-headed. Not from blood loss—with the dagger still inside, he wasn’t worried about that just yet—but because the experience of being stabbed didn’t improve over time. “He missed vital organs,” he wheezed. “It’ll be fine. I need to finish the speech.”

Calladia gave him a murderous look. “If you avoid getting treatment just to give a speech, I will twist this knife. Just try me.”

“I swear I’m not in danger of dying at the moment.” He kissed her before she could clobber him over the head and drag him away. “Let me finish the speech. Then we’ll go to a doctor.”

Calladia hesitated before holding out her hand, pinkie extended. “Will you pinkie swear?”

Astaroth didn’t know what that meant, but he would swear on anything she liked. He reached out, looping his pinkie around hers. “I pinkie swear.”

She shook his hand solemnly. “The pinkie swear is a sacred vow. You can’t break it.”

“And I won’t.” He smiled, then winced at a throb of pain in his side. He was relieved to see Moloch being restrained by multiple council members, progressives and conservatives alike. Baphomet, too, was being hotly questioned by two conservative demons.

Finally, the council was taking action. And all it took was a light stabbing.

“Closing our borders to other species isn’t the answer,” Astaroth said, addressing the crowd again. “Nor is discriminating against hybrids. We’ve grown stagnant as a species, and while the souls bring life to our plane, we haven’t bothered to think of other options.”

He reached for Calladia’s hand, twined his fingers with hers, then raised it overhead. Her skin glowed in the demon twilight.

“The plants started blooming when the witches and pixie arrived,” Astaroth continued. “That means we don’t need to rely on soul bargains to keep the plane alive. We’ve just got to open our borders to others. Allow them to share their light with us.” He kissed Calladia’s hand. “In return, perhaps we can share some light and love as well.”

Moloch was screaming threats and thrashing against the people chaining him. Tirana and Baphomet were similarly bound. Sandranella called for the gargoyles, who started dragging the three demons away.

“Hold on,” Astaroth called. He looked to Calladia. “Do you have something you want to say to Moloch?”

Her grin was vicious. “Do I ever!” She walked up to Moloch, then punched him in the face. “That’s for my house.” Her next hit went to his gut, and he groaned. “That’s for Astaroth.” Finally, she tied a series of knots with a strand of her hair. “And this is for the whole demon plane.” She muttered a spell, then booted Moloch in the groin.

The demon launched over the rooftops as if shot from a catapult, his scream fading as he disappeared into the distance.

“That was cool,” Mariel said, “but, uh, do we know where he went?”

“He’s in chains,” Calladia said. “He won’t get far.”

Lilith grabbed Kai by the back of the neck and hauled him down into an aggressively tongue-forward kiss. “Werewolves have an excellent sense of smell,” she said after she broke away. “Fetch him for me?”

With a hearty howl at the sky, Kai leaped off the dais and started running.

A demon doctor hurried toward Astaroth. She tugged the knife out, then began treating the wound. Astaroth winced at the sharp pain, but he felt much better once his side was packed with medicinal herbs and gauze.

“So,” Sandranella said once the doctor was done. “Fancy being a part of the high council again, Astaroth?”

Calladia stiffened. Astaroth looped an arm around her waist, considering.

Being on the high council would give hybrids a voice in the seat of power, but did he want to keep doing this? The endless machinations, the slow march of progress . . . how long would it take Astaroth to fall back into the pit of cynicism and ambition?

His past was part of him. Not a comfortable part—more akin to a splinter under his skin—but still there. He didn’t want to be that person again.

And yet . . .

He faced Calladia, pulling her into his arms. “Calladia,” he said seriously, “will you be angry if I stay on the high council? Or at least act as a consultant for hybrid rights?”