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

husband’s children,” Lilith said, doing such a perfect wicked stepmother routine that I got chills. “Even the ones born out of wedlock.”

A stormcloud passed over Mareth’s face. Rather than reply with a cutting remark, she turned to me. “My mother never wore Lucifer’s ring,” she explained, like it was no big deal. “But the two of them had a very passionate relationship. She still talks about it like it was just yesterday.”

Lilith’s expression soured. Clearly Mareth had just hit on what was a very sore subject for the Headmistress. Maybe Mareth hadn’t been exaggerating when she said Lucifer hadn’t talked to Lilith for a hundred years. Maybe he had more wives than he could count—or perhaps Lilith was just a cold fish in bed, so he preferred spending intimate time with other women. Either way, you could’ve cut the animosity between the older demoness and the young succubus with a knife.

“Would you like to come in with us?” Lilith said suddenly, her grin going just a touch too wide. “I would love to catch up with you, niece. It’s been too long…”

“Nah, I’ll wait out here,” Mareth said, gazing from Lilith to me. Then, to my surprise, she leaned over and made out with me. Her tongue slid into my mouth, and suddenly my hands were at her waist, hugging her to me. I felt her snicker as she broke the kiss, running her claws down my chest like a friendly pet.

“Don’t leave Pride without me,” the succubus panted. “You or Christina. I’ll escort you both to the dorms when you’re done with Auntie over here.”

Lilith looked utterly fucking furious. I’m sad to say I didn’t understand the reason she was that pissed off—it wouldn’t become clear until later. When it did, I’d be kicking myself.

“Sure thing,” I growled, giving her the same pat on the ass I’d given Christina. Her tail twitched like a leg kicking out in the middle of sex, then coiled around the small of her back as she strode off, winking at me over her shoulder.

“She’s so fucking cool,” Christina said, her voice thick with lust. “I can’t wait for you to claim her, baby.”

Lilith gestured angrily at the interior of the tent. “We don’t have all day,” she said, her voice rising to a high, imperious tone. “If you’d please follow me…”

The air was cooler and damper inside the tent, almost like the underground temple of the Lust school. A lush carpet covered in intricate pentagrams stretched across the floor, so thick that the heels of Lilith’s boots sank into the fabric as she walked. A chandelier with a living flame hung from the ceiling, pacing its tiny cylindrical cell like a tiger in a zoo cage as the shadows stretched and flickered over the canvas walls.

Lilith’s desk stood at the far wall. It was carved out of stone of similar hue and type of the walls of the Greed school, with one bit of ornamentation: a carved chicken’s foot at each corner rather than an ordinary table leg. Baba Yaga, I thought, remembering a class on mythology I’d taken back in college. So that’s where the Russians got that idea from…

With a gesture, Lilith dismissed her retainers. She settled down in a high-backed chair with red velvet cushions on the opposite side of the desk, the intricate goat’s head emblem I’d already begun to recognize as the logo of the Infernal Academy carved in the wood above her head. Before I could ask if it was specific to the Pride School — and if it might be a souvenir reminding Lilith of her own path up through the ranks — she motioned for us to sit in the two chairs the servants laid out. These were nowhere near as comfortable as Lilith’s seat—probably on purpose.

The Headmistress picked up a scroll from the desk, flipping through it with her long nails. “There’s a whole introductory welcome speech I’m supposed to read you, written by Lucifer himself,” she said sarcastically. “But it’s dreadfully boring, and since you’ve already spoken to the man himself, I assume we can dispense with the pleasantries and get down to the nitty-gritty.”

That sounded good to me. I nodded.

“Before I begin, would you like some water? Tea? The blood of Christ, served in a ram’s horn?”

My jaw dropped open at that last one. Christina’s, too. “You don’t really have…?”

“A joke,” Lilith assured me, though her face had a curiously pinched expression.

“How about some coffee?” Christina asked hopefully. “Luke and I are both a little tired after our whirlwind tour of the Infernal Academy. Right, Luke?”

“A little caffeine sounds great,” I agreed.

Lilith clapped her hands together three times, raising her voice. “Servants! Bring coffee!”

Two of the retainers we’d seen earlier entered the tent from the rear, carrying a steaming pot of coffee and three mugs. One poured, while the other distributed the pick-me-up to me, Christina, and Lilith. The coffee was black as the Ace of Spades and smelled the way sunlight smells to a plant as it first bursts through the Earth.

“Holy cow,” I whispered, taking an experimental sip. It was both the best and strongest coffee I’d ever tasted. “That’ll put some hair on your chest. Woof.”

“We’re connoisseurs of caffeine down here,” Lilith purred lustily. “It’s my lifeblood, Luke, really it is.”

Christina stared down into her mug with a mournful expression. “There’s, ah—no cream or sugar? Nothing like that?”

Lilith’s eyes widened a fraction, the pupils contracting. “We only drink it black in Hell,” the Headmistress said in a haughty tone. “Anything else is...well, it’s simply not coffee! Adulterating your brew is the sort of thing the cloud-sitters do. I wouldn’t recommend asking for anything to add to your coffee outside of this tent, Christina—unless you wish to be shunned even more than a Mog normally is.”

The words hit Christina in the gut. I didn’t