LITMIR.BIZ

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      “More like a cattle call.” He smacked the closest rump, belonging to the sacked-out female on his left. She didn’t respond. Definitely dazed or dead—the latter being quite the trick, considering we were in Hell. Pan chortled, slapped his palm against the woman’s bottom hard enough that the CRACK! resonated through the room. “Fuck me, these cows here are quite the slice of Heaven.”

      I peered closer at his companions. “Angels?”

      “Yep. Got me a halo of them, all for my very own playthings.” His grin was sharp enough to slice off his pointed ears. “Whatever else our dread ruler’s shortcomings, Him declaring that cherubs were the new succubi was a thing of genius. I’ve wanted to bang a celestial since the Beginning. And now I can, whenever I want.”

      The closest of his fuckbunnies was in sorry shape: bloody and bruised…and, based on the teeth marks on her body, it looked like Pan had a habit of snacking in bed. And she was the least damaged of those I saw. Me, I preferred giving my lovers a different kind of love bite. “Getting your fill of angel food cake, Sire?”

      His grin stretched wide. “And then some. At this rate, I’ll be palling around with the Gluttons.”

      I couldn’t smell the telltale odor of anything good—that chilly, snow-sky smell of arctic purity—but that could have been due to the nauseating incense clouding up the room. I squinted, tried to look past the women’s outer forms. Nothing. All I got were their human shells; if there was anything deeper to them, it had been warped far past my ability to sense. No, that wasn’t quite accurate; there was something there at their cores, something vague and sickly, that filled their otherwise empty forms. It was like they’d been scooped out, then inflated with poisoned air.

      Frowning, I said, “They don’t register as angels.”

      “Maybe that’s because they’re full of dark meat now.” Pan chuckled, a vicious sound. “Not that any of them knew what to do with me. Boring lays, the halo of them. I need me some maenads. Fuck, even a water nymph’d be more responsive.”

      If these women really had been angels once, there was no way to tell. Pan had slaughtered them with his own brand of lust. I wondered if they had at least experienced pleasure before their existences had been snuffed out. “How’d you seduce them? The angels I’ve seen are so frigid, they consider the South Pole a nude beach.”

      “Daun.” He shook his head like I’d disappointed him. “I’m their King now. They can’t tell me no. They can’t run from me. And they come when I call—whether they want to or not.” Eyes gleaming, he said, “Angels, reduced to the playthings of Lust. I do so love the cosmic irony.”

      I hid my distaste by grinning. I wasn’t into rape. I liked my lovers to come willingly—literally as well as figuratively. Sure, my power helped them relax their inhibitions, let them acknowledge the passion they tried to keep under lock and key. But not once in all of my existence had I ever forced myself on anyone, client or no. I’m evil, yes. And the best way to be evil is to encourage and entice others to follow suit. Why steal the milk when the cow would follow willingly?

      I love him, Daun.

      The memory of my own words whispered in my mind: If I gave you the choice, right now, would you stay with me? Answer me true.

      And her reply, as final as Atropos cutting someone’s lifeline short: No.

      This was bullshit. I refused to think about a former succubus who’d willingly gone the way of flesh and decay. I cleared my throat, then said to Pan: “Looks like you broke some of your toys, Sire.”

      “Yeah.” He snorted. “You’d think they’d be tougher.”

      “Why? How hard is it, flying around with the clouds and the birds?”

      “You’ve got a point.” He poked the grounded angel to his left, and her head rolled to the side. Pan said, “These must’ve been bottom of the barrel. I’ll have to get me some new ones.”

      “I have to admit, Sire, I’m surprised you want an angel to rule by your side.”

      “Someone’s got to keep the new succubi in line, and it sure as Hell won’t be me. I’m not into all that female girly-girl shit.” Pan wiped his hand on the fallen angel’s arm, then shrugged. “Besides, the new Queen of Lust doesn’t have to be a cherub. I just thought I’d start there. I’ve still got me tons of minor goddesses and a handful of demons eager to slide down my pole. Nothing I haven’t done before, but who knows? Maybe one of them’ll feel right.”

      “A little bit of lubrication will do wonders.”

      “Screw that. If they can’t juice up to handle all of me, they’re not meant to be my Queen. Maybe I’ll try something different, audition some of the damned. Get me a mortal mortem piece of flesh.”

      “Creative.” Stupid, too, but I didn’t say that. What would a one-time human know about ruling the succubi? And then there was Pan’s godly stamina to consider. Unless said humans had been porn stars in life, I didn’t think they’d stand a chance. Whatever. Not my problem.

      “See, this is why you’re going to be a great principal. You’re open to possibilities that others don’t even consider.”

      The grin slid off my face. “Principal?”

      “Specifically, my number one.”

      Fuck. I sucked in a breath of pine-tinted air, wondering how to talk my way out of this.

      There are two ways that demons descend to the ranks of the lower-downs. The most common is to hoard power. Mortals claim that power corrupts. In the Pit, the saying is different: Corruption empowers. The better you are at your affiliated Sin, the stronger you become. And once you’re strong enough, you leave the ranks of the lesser demons and become one of the elite: Hell’s barons, dukes, marquises…and principals. The other way the nefarious get promoted is to be appointed by one of the Kings. That’s how Pan had taken over as Lord of Lust.

      And now it looked like that was how I’d become a principal. And not just any principal; I’d be the Prince of Lust, First of Principals.

      Problem was, I didn’t want to be one of Hell’s elite. Sure, there were upsides. Who didn’t like a title change after working at a company for a long time? And along with the title would come the increased benefits: the raw power, the respect from the greater demons and minor gods, the fear from the lesser demons. The downside? The elite were all assholes, no matter what their affiliated Sin. That included Pan, who at least knew how to have a good time. I still don’t know where it’s written that the more evil you get, the more of a jackass you become, but that’s a rule the elite seem to have taken to heart.

      Worse, being Prince meant going to Court and dealing with our sovereign ruler, the dread Lord of the Abyss. And He was certifiably insane. Lucifer, for all of His faults, had been a fine King. But the current Overlord of the Underworld was destroying Hell piece by piece: changing our Rules, softening the boundaries between the Lands of Sin, nearly provoking the nefarious into open warfare against one another. He destroyed all who offended Him, or annoyed Him, or looked at Him the wrong way. Or, for that matter, the right way.

      Bishop’s balls, I didn’t want to be a principal, let alone the Prince.

      I realized that Pan was waiting for a response. “I’m…flattered, Sire.”

      “As well you should be. I’ve passed over Callistus and the others to give you this honor.”

      “You shouldn’t have.” He really, really shouldn’t have.

      “No?” He smiled thinly as he looked at me, his goat’s eyes glinting. “You’re one of the best Seducers I’ve ever known. Who better to be my go-to guy?”

      Think, incubus, think. Put your tongue to better use than licking a lover to orgasm. What could talk Pan out of this idiotic “honor”? Stalling, I said, “Cal will have a fit when he hears.”

      “He

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