Up in Smoke - Katie MacAlister [3]
“Not the biggest garbanzo in the three-bean salad?” she asked with a smile.
I gave her a wary look. “Not even close to it, no.”
“That’s all right.” She patted my hand for a moment, then turned to preen in front of the black-draped mirror that sat in the room Magoth had (unwillingly) assigned to me. “I like my men a bit dim. Makes them easier to handle.”
It was my turn to stare in disbelief, and stare I did. “It’s true I don’t know anything about your background other than you felt it important, for some reason that is completely beyond my comprehension, to try and obtain the currently vacant position of prince of Abaddon, but that aside, I think you are grossly underestimating just what exactly is Magoth’s true nature. He’s manipulative, greedy, self-centered, ruthless to the extreme, and he brings new meaning to the word ‘diabolical.’ In short, he is everything evil you can possibly imagine . . . and so much more.”
“Sweet, sweet May . . . singing my praises to the delicious Sally, are you? How thoughtful.”
The voice that spoke held a note of amusement that didn’t lull me into a sense of comfort. Magoth in a normal (read: evil) mood I could handle, but a playful, amused Magoth was especially dangerous.
“I’m simply telling her the truth about you,” I said cautiously, turning to eye him. As a mortal, Magoth had been an incredibly handsome man, with sinfully black hair and eyes and a seductive manner that had left women over the centuries sighing . . . those who survived his attentions, that is. Although demon lords could change their appearances to suit their whims, Magoth had never altered his, finding that his true form suited his purposes just fine.
He leaned with languid grace against the door frame to my room, a wicked light dancing in his black eyes, his hair once again slicked back, making obvious the resemblance to his movie-star self of some ninety years before. “May I enter?” he asked now with a slightly raised eyebrow at my slowness.
“Sins of the saints, you make him ask to come into your room?” Sally’s little gasp of surprise drew Magoth’s attention to her as he oiled his way into the room.
“It is a little game we play, my sweet May and I—she insists that I not enter her so charming chamber without her express consent, and I pretend to go along with it. And speaking of games, shall we indulge in a threesome?” Magoth flung himself down on my bed and patted the mattress with a seductive look pointed at me. “I’ll have to let May go first, since she will be my consort, but you may feel free to indulge in your wildest fantasies with me, Sally. I’m sure May won’t protest if you ride me like a rented mule.”
“Oh!” Sally said, shooting me a quick glance, but I was unsure if she was startled by the thought of indulging in a threesome, or by the fact that I would apparently not be bothered by my so-called lover’s infidelities. “I don’t . . . um . . .”
“She’s not interested any more than I am,” I said, coming to Sally’s rescue. I would have added a frown at Magoth for lounging around on my bed, but the mask was now so tight, it prohibited movement . . . not to mention the fact that Magoth wasn’t in the least concerned whether or not I frowned at his actions. “Did you want something in particular?”
“If I said ‘you’, would you hold it against me?” he asked with a waggle of his eyebrows. “And by it, I mean your delectable self. Naked? And dabbed with just a light touch of that edible jasmine oil I had made for you?”
I crossed my arms over my chest.