“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Calladia whispered across the table. “Lilith, like super-duper old and scary demon Lilith?”
Lilith was famous, he now recalled. Feared and respected across the planes, notorious for her great age, insanity, and unpredictable, often violent behavior. To be her son was a legacy, indeed.
“Who was that?” Lilith asked. “Are you with someone?”
Calladia widened her eyes and shook her head.
Astaroth was still reeling from the bombshells Lilith had dropped. “No, just me,” he said, wincing at how unconvincing he sounded.
A squeal and clapping of hands came over the line. “You are! Who is it? Tell me the species, at least. Man, woman, or other? What’s their name? Or their names, if it’s a group situation.”
There would be no wiggling out of this one. Astaroth looked to Calladia and raised a brow, silently asking permission. She winced, then nodded.
“Human,” he said. “A witch named Calladia.” The most aggravating, perfectly vicious harridan of a witch, whose blond hair and brown eyes haunted his dreams. In centuries past, she would have been the literal warrior queen he’d termed her, leading armies into battle.
Now he just wanted her to battle him.
“Calladia.” Lilith repeated the syllables, which sounded heavier in her accent—an accent he could now identify as a unique amalgamation of hundreds of languages learned and abandoned over time. “You’ve always liked fornicating with humans. Obviously you get that from me.” She sighed dreamily. “That traveling minstrel who contributed his sperm had skills, even if he didn’t stick around to see the results.”
Calladia nearly choked on her water. Fornicating? she mouthed.
Yes, please, he thought, head spinning from the influx of information and emotion.
“I hope this witch is as beautiful, conniving, and deadly as you deserve,” Lilith said. She clicked her tongue. “Like that human a few centuries back. Who was she, the one I liked? The poisoner?”
“Lucrezia Borgia,” Astaroth said dazedly, pulling the name from the ether.
Calladia clapped a hand to her mouth and made a muted squealing sound.
Lilith chuckled. “Such a vicious woman. Very feisty. Her brother, too. What was his name?”
“Cesare,” Astaroth said, recalling dim memories of carnal entertainments with corrupt, red-robed cardinals.
“Unbelievable,” Calladia muttered through her fingers. “Your life should be a TV show.”
“I wouldn’t have minded being the meat in the middle of that sandwich myself,” Lilith said. “It’s lovely they didn’t mind sharing you.”
Calladia smacked the table hard enough to rattle the napkin holder. “You hooked up with both Cesare and Lucrezia Borgia?” she whisper-shrieked. “Separately, or . . .”
Astaroth winced. “Now’s not a good time,” he told his mother. “We’re eating lunch.”
Lilith cooed. “A date! Lovely. It’s nice to see you socializing again. Ever since you took in that pup . . . when was it? Eight centuries ago? Twelve? Lucifer knows the years run together.”
Astaroth had no idea what she was talking about. “I’m only six centuries old.”
“You took your duty as a mentor so seriously,” she said. “I always told you even purebred demons are allowed to enjoy themselves sometimes. Especially if you embrace insanity!” Lilith paused. “Or did I only say that to myself?”
Astaroth’s head pulsed with pain. The world spun, and he gripped the edges of the table.
“Astaroth?” Lilith asked. “Are you still there?”
“Astaroth?” Calladia repeated in a gentler tone, looking concerned. She rested her hand on the table near his.
Cold sweat beaded at his brow. It was abruptly too much. The influx of memories, a surprise phone call from his mother, learning he had finally attained a position on the demon high council only to lose it, not to mention that half human revelation . . .
He stifled a whimper and looked at Calladia, silently begging for help.
Calladia grabbed the phone. “Sorry, food is here,” she told Lilith. “Got to go!”
“Oh, all right,” Lilith said. “Enjoy your meal, lovebirds. But don’t worry, I’m going to find out more about Moloch’s aims. We’ll work on a strategy together. You’ll be back at the high table before you know it, and I’ll be drinking Moloch’s blood out of a decorative chalice made from his skull.” She made kissy noises into the phone. “Talk soon!”