THE DEMON REALM
Everything was in its place.
Azazel surveyed the room one last time. The low stage stood at the front of it, just wide enough to fit five humans standing side by side. The room was arranged carefully, seating grouped just far enough away from each other that it made a confrontation less likely, all arranged in a half circle equal distances from the stage. Politics bored him, but they were necessary to navigate from time to time.
Like now.
After tonight, he would have what he wanted most. In addition to that, all four leaders of the other territories in this realm would owe him a favor. The women had been prepped and the contracts were good on their end. All that was left was to auction them off, get the second set of contracts signed and those bargains cemented.
Then he could focus on his reward.
Thane was the first to arrive, and he came alone. He nodded to Azazel and sank into the low pool built into the floor. The dark water hid the tentacles taking up the lower half of his body and nearly matched his dark gray skin.
Next came Bram, his wings tucked tight against his body. He eyed Thane and made a wide, pointed circle around his pool. Air and water rarely got along, but this was ridiculous. He finally sank into the backless chair ready for him. “This better be worth the trip, Azazel.”
“Oh, it will be.”
Thunderous footsteps signaled Sol’s arrival. Azazel knew for a fact the dragon could tread silently when he chose, but why bother with that when he could shake the building instead. He stalked through the door, glanced around, and made a beeline for the stool with a divot in the back to accommodate his thick tail.
Rusalka, of course, was last. She always liked to make an entrance. She came through the door with her hair floating in an uncanny current. Flames burned beneath her flesh, so bright in places, it almost hurt to look at her. She was nearly as tall as Sol and had the most human body of all of them…as long as one ignored the fiery skin that would burn anyone who touched her without permission. He’d seen it happen before, and she’d laughed while the poor bastard died at her feet.
“Thank you for coming. I think you’ll find tonight’s offerings to your taste.” As if any of them had tastes for this kind of offering. Humans in their realm were few and far between; he had brought most of them over years ago. They—and their bloodlines—were a rare enough commodity to get all these leaders in the same room for the first time in generations. “The price will be the same regardless.”
“I’m sure.” Rusalka draped one leg over the other, her cloven hoof tapping the ground. “We’re not giving our lands up for a piece of ass, Azazel. Be serious.”
“I don’t want your lands.” Being the ultimate leader of this realm would be more trouble than it was worth. “I want peace. The constant warring is draining our resources faster than we can replenish them. You all know that or you wouldn’t be here. It’s time for a new generation of leaders to do things our way.” He motioned to the doorway on one side of the stage. “The peace offering.”
One by one, five women filed out onto the stage.
Azazel turned to the gathered leaders. “Now, we make our selections.”
