As nice as that sounded, I prefer free will over fate, and the very idea some path had been picked for me grated. However, back then, we hadn’t known that the Chosen could kill Cain. If that was true, I’d wear a crown and sash with “Chosen” written in gold glitter if that’s what it took to convince my father.
“Look, you said only the Chosen can kill Cain,” Adam argued. “Don’t you think it’s pretty important we’re absolutely sure it can’t be Sabina before you dismiss the only chance we have to kill him?”
Tristan sighed. “Fine, I’ll summon her. But only so you’ll drop this nonsense once and for all.”
A puff of purple smoke erupted in the circle of salt Tristan had cast. The scent of brimstone and a high-pitched whine filled the room.
“Tristy!”
At the same moment I recognized the voice, the smoke cleared, revealing a six-foot-tall golden skinned demon with a peacock’s tail.
My stomach pitched and rolled. “No f**king way.”
“Oh shit,” Adam breathed.
Both our gazes swiveled to Giguhl. He looked like he’d been sucker punched. “Valva?” he whispered.
The Vanity demon froze, her blue gaze locked with the Mischief’s. “Schmoopie?”
Giguhl whimpered.
“Keep it together, G,” I said.
A bead of sweat crept down Giguhl’s temple, just below his horn. “Wh-what is she doing here?” he said, his voice panicked.
Tristan frowned. “What do you mean? You asked me to summon my informant.”
Either Valva got tired of waiting or she couldn’t contain her excitement a second longer. Totally ignoring the salt circle, she leapt across the room and launched herself at Giguhl.
“Sugar lump!” She jumped up and wrapped her legs around Giguhl’s stiff frame. “I’ve missed you!”
My minion looked shell shocked as the Vanity demon rained kisses all over his face.
Adam and I exchanged a worried look.
“Red?” Giguhl whimpered. “Help.”
I almost refused. It was one thing to support my friend. It was something else entirely to try to peel an amorous Vanity demon—and her thrusting pelvis—away from the reluctant object of her affection. So instead, I took the middle road.
“Ahem! Valva?”
The smacking sound of her kisses filled up the room. It was so loud, everyone else averted their eyes from the display. Tristan’s arms were crossed and he glared at me like it was all my fault.
“What the hell is going on?” he demanded.
I held up a hand to tell him to hold his horses. My priority was saving Giguhl.
When the Vanity didn’t respond to my voice, I tapped her very hard on the shoulder. Some might call it a punch, but potayto, potahto.
She paused her kisses and turned her head, a fierce scowl on her face. “Oh. Sabina. It’s you.”
I executed a little wave. “Hey, V. Listen, do you think you could pull yourself away from sexually assaulting Giguhl long enough to explain what the f**k you’re doing here?”
She snorted. “I’m not assaulting him.”
“Giguhl?” I asked, keeping my eyes locked with Valva’s glare. “Do you want Valva to keep dry humping you?”
“Yes! No! I’m so confused!” he wailed.
I snapped my fingers and pointed at the demoness. “You, down.”
She opened her golden lips to respond, but a quiet command from Tristan shut her down. “Now, Valva.”
According to the laws of demon–mage relations, since he’d summoned her, he technically controlled her. But I knew from experience Valva wasn’t your typical demon.
The demon rolled her eyes and, with obviously reluctance, dismounted from Giguhl.
“Now,” I said to Tristan and Valva. “Explain yourselves.”
“I’m as confused as you are,” Tristan said. “I had no idea your minion was acquainted with Valva.”
“Oh, I’d say from the looks of things, they’re a little more than acquainted,” Nyx said, tongue firmly in cheek.
Back in New York, not long after I’d arrived and met Maisie for the first time, Giguhl had started fighting in Slade’s Demon Fight Club. Surprisingly, my Mischief demon turned out to be a fierce fighter in the ring and quickly became the demon to beat—that was, until Valva strutted into the ring. A few flicks of her blue peacock tail and Giguhl was a goner. Not only did he refuse to fight her, but he also declared his love for her the very same night.
Long story short, my twin had taken custody of Valva. It wasn’t Maisie’s choice since the Vanity demon bound herself to my sister, but the arrangement seemed to work out well for both of them. At first.
It was only later, after our grandmother had kidnapped Maisie, that Valva had shown her true colors. The drama went down in a vampire strip club in Los Angeles. We’d gone there to seek the help of an old ally in finding my sister. Unfortunately, the Vanity demon didn’t understand the meaning of the phrase “low profile” and had jumped onstage to work the pole. In addition to starting a riot among the vamp strippers, she’d also made such a scene that the Dominae’s guards found us.
Once we’d narrowly escaped the bar, Valva had turned on us when we tried to make her understand why we were angry. First she called me a controlling bitch. Then she’d turned on Giguhl, the demon she supposedly loved. She broke his heart and flashed out like she couldn’t wait to be rid of us.
But now we found out that she’d been helping Tristan. And I wanted some answers.
“Valva?” I said, raising a brow. “You want to explain yourself?”
She dusted off her tail feathers. “Not particularly.”
“Too damned bad,” Adam said, crossing his arms. “Why do you keep popping up? First you show up in New York and now you’re an informant for Sabina’s father. We deserve an explanation.”
She shrugged. “It’s simple. Since I can move between Irkalla and the mortal realm, Mom sometimes asks me to do little jobs for her.”
I rolled my eyes at her use of the word “mom.” I had a hard time imagining Lilith, the dark goddess and Great Mother, as anyone’s mommy.
“Little jobs like manipulating people?” Adam said.
The demon’s eyes shifted left. “Maybe.”
Tristan crossed his arms. “Will someone please tell me what you’re talking about?”
While Adam filled Tristan and his group in on our past experiences with Valva, I sidled up to Giguhl. “You okay?”