Lucifer Reborn by Dante King (ebook reader play store .txt) 📕

you along the path of the Pridegreed. A major in Pride, with the full privileges of the Market along with it, and a minor in the Greed school.”

As soon as she said Pride, my knees threatened to give out from under me. It was exactly what I’d wanted—what I’d been hoping for from the moment I saw the Pride school. This place, more than anywhere else in the Infernal Academy, was my true home. Where I would shine above the rest of the demons, climb the ladder, and ascend to my future post as the Archlord of Hell.

“Thank you,” I said, bowing as Lilith tapped my shoulder the same way she’d done to Christina. A faint spark crackled near my neck as she did it, like the static shock you get rubbing socks on carpet and touching something metal.

Greed, huh? That wasn’t a bad choice, all things considered. I didn’t consider myself a terribly greedy person, though I also wouldn’t have called myself ‘proud’ before this whole business with Lucifer changed my life. Greed dealt with the claiming of mortal souls and binding people through contracts—both of which I’d have to know like the back of my hand if I was going to slip into Lucifer’s shoes. Plus, I enjoyed arguing with people—and I wouldn’t mind taking another look at that dragon…

As Lilith leaned in, delivering the tap, she suddenly closed in. Her lips brushed my ear, her voice dropping to a delightfully husky, feminine whisper. “Consider your schools more like general guidelines,” she purred, and I fancied I could feel the edge of her tongue against my lobe. “As a candidate for Archlord, you’ll be able to take selective classes in other Schools should you choose. The master of Hell is expected to be something of a Renaissance man…”

I’d figured as much. For a moment, I couldn’t think—the contact with Lilith’s tongue shocked me to my core. She let out a very un-headmistress like giggle, looking almost as girlish as Mareth for a moment, then gestured at the tent flap behind her.

“If you’d like to join me inside, we have just a small bit of your orientation remaining.” One of the retainers moved to the side of the flap, holding it open for his Mistress. The crowd around us began to disperse, sensing that the fun part was over.

We probably just have to sign some forms, I thought, staring at the square of darkness. Although knowing this place, we have to sign them in blood…

Christina and I shared a look, then followed Lilith to the tent. Feeling impetuous, I wrapped a hand around Christina’s waist and gave her ass a squeeze as we walked, casually asserting her status as one of my girls to anyone who wanted to see. I figured it was good to get that out in the open right up front, to keep things clear with any demons who might want to shoot their shot with the new girl.

We’d almost reached the tent when Lilith stiffened. She turned around slowly, a wicked smile spreading across her face. “One second,” the demoness purred. “I almost forgot that you brought another bit of business with you.”

At first I thought we’d done something wrong—then I realized Lilith wasn’t looking at us. I followed her gaze to the palm tree shading the market square, and the succubus in a schoolgirl outfit doing a terrible job of hiding behind it. From the look on Mareth’s face, she thought she’d gotten away with it. More likely, Lilith had seen her all along and was waiting for this moment, giving her hope only to snatch it away.

Lilith pointed at the ground in front of her with a kindly smile. “Come here,” she purred, gesturing at Mareth. “Don’t be frightened, child. You’re just as much a member of this group as Luke or Christina. Don’t forget, I’ve been watching you too.”

The change in Mareth surprised me. She pouted like a bratty teenager who’d been told she couldn’t go out after curfew as she marched up to Lilith, planting her feet firmly on the ground.

“Good afternoon, Headmistress,” she growled icily, folding her arms beneath her breasts.

Lilith just stared at her. The moment lengthened, turning awkward. Neither of them moved a muscle—they just stared at each other, waiting for the other to blink.

Finally, Mareth sighed and rolled her eyes. “Good afternoon, Auntie,” she said, like the word had to be dragged out of her with hooks.

Lilith laughed at that— a rich, musical sound. “That’s better,” she said, tapping the side of one crimson cheek with an obsidian-black nail. “Why don’t you come here and give your auntie a kiss?”

“Not on your life,” Mareth murmured. She resumed glaring, as if this was the new line in the sand the succubus was trying not to cross.

I found the strength to speak. “Auntie?”

Mareth gave me an awkward look. Thankfully for her, nearly the entire crowd had cleared out at this point, going back to whatever wheeling and dealing they’d been busy with at the Market. “Yeah, Lilith is technically my aunt. My mom and Lucifer were a thing for a while, and then she had me.”

“He had quite a taste for succubi around the end of the 90’s,” Lilith murmured, looking not altogether happy about it. “I blame that awful show with the witches who were sisters. We should have never installed cable TV down here…”

I remembered Lucifer singing Mareth’s mom’s praises when he first introduced me to the succubus as my guide. I should have realized then that he’d sampled the goods himself, and that his interest in Mareth had been more fatherly than a simple ‘mentor-mentee’ relationship. I wondered just how many kids the Prince of Darkness had fathered over the years, and how many I might run into on my way to becoming Archlord.

“I consider myself an Auntie to every one of my