Mariel snorted as she spooned curry onto plates. “Not in a million years.”
Calladia forced a smile. “Obviously. But apparently he didn’t believe me, because next thing I knew, he’d firebombed my house.”
“With you inside?” Themmie asked. “How awful!” Her dark eyes were wide with distress.
Calladia squeezed Themmie’s hand. “I’m okay. I was blown free and hid, but now I’m living out of my truck until I figure out how to get this Moloch asshole off my tail.”
“You can stay with me!” multiple voices exclaimed at once—though Oz and Mariel both said us.
Calladia’s heart warmed. “Thank you, but I’m not comfortable putting anyone else at risk until Moloch is taken care of.” She faced Oz. “What can you tell me about Moloch and Astaroth and whatever that drama is?”
Oz picked at his curry—after directing praise and effusive thanks to a blushing Mariel—chewing slowly as he thought. “It’s an odd situation. They’re around the same age—Moloch was born in the late fourteenth century, Astaroth in the early fifteenth—and they’ve always been rivals. Astaroth has long been our most successful bargainer, and Moloch our most powerful warrior.”
Calladia knew Astaroth was old, but it was startling to remember exactly how old, especially since he frequently acted like a petulant child.
Alzapraz snorted. “Amateurs,” he croaked. “They should try being my age with my joints.”
“How did Moloch manage fireballs?” Mariel asked. “I thought demons only had bargaining magic.”
Oz shook his head. “There are other strains of magic, though they’re just as rare as bargaining magic. For warriors, that’s the ability to summon fire.”
Thanks to Oz, the group had gotten a crash course in demonology, including the disturbing fact that children were separated from their parents and put into brutal, isolating training to develop whatever skills would benefit demon society. Oz and Astaroth had the power to harvest human souls—the combination of magic and emotion—and send them to the demon plane, and Oz would have continued in that career if he hadn’t become an anomaly some months back. He’d accidentally gained a human soul during a bargain gone wrong, and it had given the previously stoic demon messy emotions, magic, and a human life span.
It was weird—Astaroth seemed way too emotional for what Oz had told them about most demons. Probably an effect of the head injury, which meant he’d return to his cold and calculating Vulcan-esque self eventually.
“If they’ve hated each other that long,” Calladia said, “then why is Moloch only trying to kill him now?”
“I’m not sure.” Oz’s forehead furrowed. “Something must have happened on the demon plane. Astaroth said he’d made a wager with the high council. He obviously lost, so maybe this is the result.”
“Hmm.” Calladia considered as she took a forkful of curry. She moaned in appreciation of the rich flavor. “Mariel, you deserve a Michelin Star.”
Mariel grinned. She was practically glowing, and although Calladia was thrilled to see her friend so happy, there was an uncomfortable tightness in her own chest. Oz leaned in to whisper something in Mariel’s ear, and Mariel’s freckled cheeks pinkened before she giggled and playfully slapped Oz away. Naughty, Mariel mouthed at the demon.
Calladia couldn’t imagine what that kind of intimacy felt like. She hadn’t dated seriously since Sam, and it had never been like that. No carefree, giddy joy, no mutual support, only an ever-escalating sense of unworthiness. The longer she’d spent with Sam, the smaller she’d felt, her life shaping itself around his judgments.
It was enough to make a witch reject the very idea of love, if only there weren’t two such compelling examples of the phenomenon sitting across the table.
“It sucks that Moloch’s taking his issues out on Calladia,” Themmie said. “He needs to buy her a new house, at least.”
“Sure, that’ll go well,” Calladia said. “Hey, Moloch, I know you tried to murder me with an enormous fireball, but would you mind sending some cash to cover the property damage?” She shook her head and focused on Oz. “I don’t know how to deal with this situation yet, but I need to learn everything you can tell me about Moloch. And Astaroth, for that matter. You know, just in case he turns up.”
Just in case he’s sitting in the passenger seat of my truck.
Oz obliged, painting character portraits of the two demons. Moloch was clever and charming, with a legendary knack for brutality that made him a figure out of nightmares for opponents. Most demons enjoyed scheming, but Moloch was especially conniving. He’d built a web of allies across demon society, and it was an open secret that the conservative half of the high council followed his lead. He sought to collect as much power as possible while eliminating his enemies along the way.