Calladia continued stripping, a process Astaroth watched avidly. Unfortunately, she stopped with bra and underwear still on, but the view was still divine. Her thighs were thick with muscle, her calves sharply defined, and the curves of her hips and breasts were subtle but elegant. Her body was a finely honed weapon, and Astaroth would gladly be her victim.
“You’re ogling me,” she said as she approached the pool.
“I am,” he readily agreed. Her underwear looked to be plain gray cotton, and he wanted to get his mouth on her until the fabric darkened with her arousal. Then he’d pull them aside, licking all over her slick skin before sucking her clit.
Below the water, his cock began to stiffen.
She shook her head as she lowered herself to the edge of the pool. “Shameless.” She dipped her toes in and hissed.
Astaroth ducked under and came back up, then made a show of shaking out his hair, sending drops flying.
Calladia shrieked, shielding her face, then started laughing. “Bad demon! We aren’t all blessed with your tolerance for heat.”
He watched as she slowly submerged her feet. “So,” he said, returning to the earlier conversation. “Tell me more about Mariel.”
Calladia did, painting a brief yet vivid sketch of a sweet, beautiful woman with a good heart and unpredictable magic. Witches tended to be specialists or generalists; while Calladia was a generalist, good at most things, Mariel was clearly a specialist with an incredible affinity for plants. The two women had been friends since childhood, forming a strong bond based partly on having control-freak mothers.
Calladia’s deep love for her friend was obvious, and Astaroth felt a mix of guilt and envy. Guilt that he’d targeted someone Calladia valued this much, even if he couldn’t remember it, and envy that someone else got to experience the gift of her unshakable loyalty. She might deny being a good person, but Calladia loved deeply and fought hard for the people she valued, and if that wasn’t goodness, what was?
A buzzing came from Calladia’s backpack, and she stiffened. “Oh, no,” she said, dread creeping into her tone. “I forgot about my mom’s event.”
“You wouldn’t have been able to make it anyway,” Astaroth said.
“Yeah, but that’s not going to stop her from being pissed at me.” She sighed and got up, then walked to her pack.
“Why answer?” Astaroth asked as she pulled out the phone.
She put her finger to her lips. “Hey, Mom.” When a muffled but clearly angry voice responded, Calladia pulled the phone from her ear, made a face, then put it on speaker.
“—told you it was important! Josiah Jenkins is a high-value possible donor, and he’s big on family values. What am I supposed to tell him about your absence?”
“Tell him I’m out of town at that fake wellness retreat,” Calladia said. “Or tell him a demon recently blew up my house and I don’t have time for political dinners.”
“I’ve already spread the word it was a gas leak, so make sure you stick to that story. Bad enough to have one demon in town; if people suspect you’re involved with more demon business, it’s going to ruin your reputation.”
“You mean your reputation?” Calladia shot back. “I don’t have a reputation to protect.” She sat, setting the phone on the rock next to her, then plunked her feet and lower legs in the water all at once, wincing at what must be a sting of sudden heat.
Over the phone, Calladia’s mother sighed. “I know you don’t value it now, but someday you will, and you’ll be grateful I went to these lengths to keep you respectable.”
“I don’t want to be respectable. I want to be me.”
“You mean reckless, violent, rude, and unmotivated?” Cynthia’s laugh sounded bitter. “Sometimes I wonder what I’ve done to deserve such an ungrateful daughter.”
Calladia flinched. Astaroth waded toward her, tempted to grab the phone and drop it in the hot spring.
How could Cynthia treat her own child like this?
It took a lot to truly appall Astaroth, but after only this short conversation, he was horrified. “Has she always been like this?” he asked softly.
Calladia’s eyes were wet, but she wiped the drops away with the back of her hand and held up her finger, signaling him to wait. “I’m not ungrateful,” she said. “You kept me fed and a roof over my head when I was a kid. You paid for school and magic tutoring.”
“A substantial amount, too!”