Date with Destiny-Demon Style Ch. 05

Kara cocked her head for an instant, confused. Slowly, reality sunk in and her cheeks flared. Sweet mother of God, they heard her! Her blood supply emptied into her cheeks, and she turned her head away in shame. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the succubus simply standing there, an expression of contempt on her gorgeous face. Gears in a back corner of her mind clicked into motion, alerting her of something unknown but important. Without saying a word, she collected herself and stood tall, filing away the image of the succubus' face.

Pleased that she had recovered, the woman turned on her heels and made her way down the hall to the chamber where she knew the rest of the suitors would be. Darian put a hand on her shoulder, his silver eyes silently asking if she was going to be alright. She smiled and nodded, to which he smiled back and removed his hand. He turned to leave, making his way down the long, cavernous hallway. She made a mental note to tell Lucifer she'd changed her mind about him, and hurried to catch up to the succubus waiting for her.

They walked side-by-side, each silently caught in her own thoughts. The succubus made Kara feel uncomfortable, but not because of her profession. She'd been around temptresses before and they'd never affected her like this. No, it was something about her expression - the way she looked at Kara's moment of shyness and vulnerability with absolute disgust - that made her skin crawl.

They came to the massive carved door quickly, though to Kara it wasn't nearly quick enough. She longed to be far away from this cruel woman as soon as possible. The succubus bowed to her and pushed open the door, showing what was supposed to be respect to the young princess. But Kara noticed malice and anger in her crimson eyes, and she swore to herself that she would avoid that woman at all costs.

She bowed as well, hiding her own distrust with a simple smile. She walked through the doorway, exhaling a silently sigh of relief when it closed. There were fewer demons crowding the hall this time, though it felt like just as many eyes were watching her. Instinctively -- and without a command from Lucifer or anyone else - the remaining princes lined up in the middle of the floor, smiling at her. Lyzander, Parthos and Ladrian all faced her. The twins -- probably still in bed -- and the scheming brothers were absent. Good.

Oh, thank God!

She exhaled another sigh of relief. Ladrian was okay. She was about to give him a warm smile when something caught her eye. A fresh scar, jagged and red, bisected his chest, crossing over the previous on. Both scars met in the middle of his chest, making a large X in his skin. Her gut turned at the sight of the wound, making her suspect the non-twin brothers had something to do with that as well.

"There she is! Our star performer!" Lucifer's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. He strode over to her and embraced her in a bone-crushing hug. After what felt like endless seconds he released her, stepping back and letting her catch her breath. "And right on time, too!"

She swallowed, trying to force air back into her lungs. "I wanted...to ask...you...something." She said, gasping.

"Anything!" Lucifer's smile was as brilliant as the warm sunlight streaming in from the ceiling's glass window.

Regaining her balance, she stood tall and faced the demon king head-on. "I've changed my mind about Darian. I would like him reinstated."

Lucifer started at her for an instant, his eyes glowing in the sunlight. His beautiful face skewed up, and he cocked his head in confusion.

"Are you sure, my dear? You seemed so certain when you asked him to be removed."

"Yes, I'm sure." She glared at him, putting her hands defensively on her hips. "I'm allowed to have second thoughts, aren't I? Or is that one of your silly made up rules that you magically change whenever you feel like it? Because you seem to do that quite a bit."

Lucifer burst out laughing, so loud that all the other demons in the hall jumped in surprise. He clapped an enormous hand on her shoulder. "I admire your spirit, Miss Haven. You are the only person who has enough spine to stand up and face me so openly. If that is truly what you want, then Darian's place will be restored in this competition."

"Thank you." She offered her biggest, brightest smile. From the corner of her eye she could see Marcianus' face nearly break in half from his smile. His son was back in the running for her heart, and he was sure proud of it.

"Now, you know the routine." He turned her to face her suitors.

Looking at the remaining men -- minus Darian -- she scanned each of their faces for the umpteenth time, looking for a speck of honesty or anything else that she could take as a good sign. Lysander smiled knowingly at her. She shifted her gaze away, blushing furiously. Ladrian was also smiling, though it was more of an 'I'm okay' smile than a 'Let's get it on' smile. Parthos was looking -- if he could look without eyes -- at the tiled floor, an expression of defeat on his face.

She recalled the promise she'd made to herself during the last selection and smiled. She looked up at Lucifer. "Parthos."

The demon's head snapped up, a look of shock on his eyeless face. Clearly, he honestly expected to have been picked last, if at all. She shot him a warm smile, to which he grinned back.

Some people just need one chance, others need two.

Lucifer smiled at her. "Not the most daring choice, but a good one none the less. Have fun, princess." He motioned to the other demons crowding the hall, who quickly exited the enormous room, leaving Kara alone with her suitors.

She watched as Lyzander and Ladrian slapped Parthos on the shoulders, wishing good luck and congratulating him. Both offered honest smiles as they departed, and Parthos smiled back shyly. Her heat pulsed happily as she watched. At least these two were genuinely good and fair. She guessed Helion would have thrown a massive fit.

Within minutes the hall was empty, leaving Kara and Parthos alone. He approached slowly.

She offered a kind smile "It's nice to finally meet you, Parthos. I've heard about you from Lyzander."

"I hope he didn't tell you anything....false about me." His voice was deeper than any she had ever heard before.

She cocked her head in confusion. "Like what?"

He made a face, one the suggested shame and turmoil. "I am not the most experienced person when it comes to intimacy."

She giggled and waved her hands. "No, they haven't told me anything like that. But Lyzander did say you were one hell of a cook."

At the mention of his passion, Parthos' face light up like a firecracker. She was sure that, had he owned any eyes, they would have been gleaming with pride. He bowed low, making the most ridiculously pompous movements possible.

"That I am, my lady." He raised his head to -- supposedly - look at her. "Would your grace allow me to show you?"

She laughed and did her most ridiculous impression of a curtsy. "Why, of course, my lord. Lead the way, if you will."

They both stood straight and laughed together. She though how strange it was that she felt so comfortable with this prince. Parthos wasn't grabbing for her boobs or trying to steal the spotlight like any of the others. He seemed...almost normal. The man liked to cook, and that was just fine.

They turned and left the hall, exiting through a door she'd never noticed. It was beautifully carved with images of twisting tree branches encompassing flames. It looked nothing like the other doors carved with demons and tortured souls, and therefore felt like a breath of fresh air to her tired eyes.

Parthos turned the handle -- intricately carved with delicate vines - and bowed, motioning for her to enter first. She stepped through and stopped, staring at the room. It was a massive kitchen, each wall twenty feet long and fifty feet high, tiled with white and black marble from floor to ceiling. A line of ovens and stoves ran from one end of the room to the other, while the three remaining walls were lines with granite counters. An enormous rack of knives, spatulas and other utensils hung on one tiled wall. Enormous windows covered entire wall, looking out into the depths of Hell.

Damn. Rachael Ray's paradise. Except for the Hell part.

"Come with me." Parthos motioned to her to follow.

She walked behind him, marveling at the enormity of the kitchen. He dragged a stool from out under one of the counters and placed it near the edge of the granite slab. He motioned for her to sit. She wrapped her robe around herself and sat down on the polished wood, folding her arms across the counter and resting her chin on her forearm.

"So what are we making today, Emril?" She flashed a quick smile.

Parthos laughed as her gathered pans and other utensils. "Home-made chicken tetrazzini. And Lagasse is very over-rated, my dear princess, no matter how many time he throws onomatopoeias into his food." He walked over to the gigantic fridge at the other end of the room and began to rummage through the contents.

"What? You mean bam isn't useful in the kitchen?" She gave him an exaggerated shocked look. Truthfully, she hated Lagasse herself. His shouting frightened her as a child, something she never outgrew.

He laughed again. "Only when it's made by the oven, and that's usually a bad sign." He set various food items collect from the fridge down on the counter. He separated out the ingredients into groups only he could understand. "So tell me about yourself."

She leaned back, gripping the counter so she wouldn't lose her balance. "What's there to tell? I'm eighteen, a half-blood and trying to sift through the first of five hundred guys to find a husband."

"There must be more to you than that." He started the pasta. The pot he used was massive, making her think this dinner was for more people than just them.

"Well...I'm sarcastic, sweet, honest, conniving, loving and vengeful."

"Full of contradictions, aren't we?"

"Yep." She leaned on the counter again. "Nothing but a bunch of things that don't make sense."

"I think it makes perfect sense. The world is full of contradictions, you just happen to have more of them." He diced the chicken into pieces, the knife in his fingers flying so fast she worried her might lose one of his digits.

"Damn, you're a sweet one, aren't you?" Something about Parthos lit a warm fire in her belly. It wasn't a sexually passionate fire, but a safe, content fire that made her feel comfortable around him. She figured that, for her at least, he wouldn't be an amazing lover, but he'd make a damn good friend.

"I cook. I have to be passionate." He smiled to himself.

"You would love Julie, then." She rested her chin on her arms again, a knowing smile crossing her lips.

He looked up, giving her a confuse look. "Julie?"

She nodded. "She's the next princess in line after me. She'd fifteen, but the girl's a cooking progeny."

Parthos' eyeless face lit up. "Is she?"

"Hell yes!" She sat up, happy to have the chance to play match-maker for once. "The two of you could probably feed the world if you were put in the same kitchen."

"Could you tell me what she looks like?" Honest enthusiasm echoed in his voice.

"She's a bit shorter than me, but hey, she's fifteen. Long brown hair, crystal blue eyes, and pearly white teeth. Her skin's a little darker than mine. And she loves to read. I swear I've never seen anybody go through books so fast."

His smile widened at her description. Clearly, Julie was just his type.

How would he know if he can't freaking see?!

She hopped off the chair and walked toward the windows, peering out into the sea of tortured souls. "Give it three more years and you've probably got a shot at her."

"I hope so. She sounds perfect." He spun to look at her, putting his hands up defensively. "No offense to you, princess."

She waved her hand, dismissing his fear. "None taken."

Relieved, he started putting all the ingredients together, loading them into a gigantic glass pan. "Tell me about the others. We're not told about any princesses other than the one we're fighting for."

She creased her brow for a moment, recalling the names of the girls she'd become so close to. "Well...Julie is fifteen, Natalie is twelve, Emily is eight, Stephanie is six and Abby is two."

Parthos burst out laughing, a deep sound that echoed around the kitchen.

She looked back at him, confused. "What's so funny?"

He made a colossal effort to quiet his laughter, though small bubbles of it still managed to escape. "It seems fitting, doesn't it? The girl who is the most unique in the group is the one whose name doesn't end with a 'y' sound."

She paused, looking down at the fire and brimstone world that her father called home. She'd never considered that before. She was indeed the most unique of the girls, and her name was the only one that didn't end in 'y' or 'ie'. Her mother had told her once that all the girl's mothers had come together and discussed their future daughter's names, and that the other women had strange looks on their faces when her name was spoken. Could that have been her mother's way of making sure people knew how different she was? Her way of separating her daughter from the norm?

Gears turned in her head, putting together more pieces of a very complicated puzzle. "You know what else is strange?"

Parthos looked at her, interested.

"I'm the only princess that doesn't have siblings. All the other girls have younger brothers and sisters, but me...I don't have any."

"Well, I suppose that makes you very special, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I suppose so." She said the words slowly, a smile creeping across her face. She turned back to see Parthos placing the giant pan in what had to be the world's largest oven. "Could you tell me about the brothers? Not the twins. Malnos and Ziron."

Parthos closed the oven door and stood, a look of absolute contempt on his face. "What about them?" He nearly spat the words out. His tone was so venomous that she took a step back.

"They just seem...They tricked Darian into biting me." She chewed her lip, worried that she may have crossed an unseen and very dangerous line.

"It's not below them. Nothing is below those two. They're parasites, nothing more and nothing less." His eyeless sockets narrowed, voicing his hatred without words.

Deciding that Parthos had made his point about the brothers, she changed the subject. "What about Ladrian and Darian? Are they better choices like Lyzander?"

Relief came over his face, accompanied by a soft smile. "Much better. Ladrian is probably the closest to you in age, though he's still about six decades older."

"Damn." She leaned against the windows, resting her tired back. "And Darian?"

"A bit impulsive and hotheaded, but he's a good man. Lyzander is the same, just with a troubled past."

"The priest thing?" She shifted her feet nervously.

He looked at her, startled. "He told you? He hasn't spoken about that in years."

She shrugged. "I guess he figured that hiding secrets like that wasn't the best way to win a girl's heart."

Parthos nodded, then stood silent for a moment. He looked at her again with an expression she couldn't decipher. "Could we agree on something?"

She cocked her head. "Like what?"

"You know I'm not the most lustful person when it comes to women, and you seem like the kind of person who needs a passionate man. And you just described a woman that I am now very interested in. I was wondering if we could -- "

"Agree to be friends and not lovers?" she offered, understanding marking her features.

He grinned. "That's exactly it!"

She giggled. "Of course. And no offense, Parthos, but I just don't think you're the guy I'd need. I think I might drive you crazy."

"None taken, and that is something I'm afraid I can believe." He laughed. A well-aimed kitchen towel silenced his laughter.

"So it's settled then. You and I can be good friends, just not lovers. I'll go find Lucifer and ask to have you honorably removed." She turned to leave.

"Princess?"

She stopped and looked at Parthos. He stood by the oven, a shy smile on his face. "If you see Julie... could you put in a good word for me?"

She grinned and nodded. "Absolutely. I'll make you sound like the best chef that ever lived." She turned the handle of the door and stepped through, leaving the master chef to his art.

Now...where in Hell could Lucifer be?

She began to walk, crossing the large entertainment hall to the massive double-door that led to the main hallway. Using her shoulder, she managed to shove one open enough so she could walk through. She jumped when the door slammed closed on is own. Making her way down the hallway, she racked her brain for where the demon king could possibly be. No single place made sense; he could be anywhere he wanted to be in this infernal place.

An old saying ran through her mind, giving her hope of finally tracking down the old demon, one that her father had warned her about. Apparently, if you were a half-demon, it actually worked.

Speak of the devil and he doth appear.

Going with her gut, she inhaled and called out the king demon's name. Within seconds, a hot wind blasted against her face, whipping her hair into knots. Lucifer swooped down and landed gracefully on the tiled floor, his colossal black wings folding against his back.

"Ah! My dear princess! So it is you who called me. I though I recognized that lovely voice." An enthusiastic smile greeted her from his chiseled face.

"Good to see you, too." She forced a smile back. It was never easy to smile when dealing with the biggest bad guy in the Bible.

"And what does the young princess need?" He leaned against a marble pillar, the poor thing cracking under his weight.

"Well, two things, actually. Parthos and I agreed that we're just not right for each other, so I'd like to have him removed in the most honorable way possible. "She held her breath, hoping that Lucifer didn't go off on Parthos for being weak or less passionate than the others.

He smiled. "I see. The boy always was a bit too shy around women. If you two have agreed on it, then I'll have him honorably removed."

She glared at him. "I don't appreciate being mocked."

Lucifer dipped his head in apology. "Forgive me princess. What else did you need?"

"The same thing with the twins. They're gorgeous and strong and very talented, but I'm just not sure I could handle both of them at once."

"Yes, those two can cause quite a raucous, can't they?" A knowing glint in is eyes made her cheeks flare. "That will be taken care of. Oh!"

She jumped at his exclamation. "What?"

He grinned at her and straightened. "That leaves you with three, doesn't it? Now let's see...Ladrian, Lyzander and Darian. Yes that's correct. Three."

"Okay. So?" She motioned for him to continue.

"Well, when a princess works her way down to three suitors, she's now able to offer her virginity to those suitors that are left." His grin grew wider at her shocked expression. "You see, we only order the girls to stay pure until the final three men. It's to make sure they don't play them boys by offering any favors or bribes. Once the final three are picked, though, the girl can sleep with all of them if she wants."

"Oh." She bit her lip, blushing furiously. Her virginity, her mother had told her, was sacred. Never to be given out until marriage. But since when was she one to follow her mother's orders? "So I pick who I want to sleep with first, then I can pick from the others and sleep with them as well?"

"Indeed. Do you have a choice already?"

She shook her head but quickly held her hand up, signaling for him to wait. Lowering her eyes to the floor. Could she? Should she? Sex had always been an alluring mystery to her, something she'd always wanted to try but was too afraid to attempt. Her mother had forbidden it, as she did so many other things, but her mother's scoldings weren't enough t stop her curiosity. She'd snuck glances at porn as a teenager and bought erotic novels when she got a job. But should she when she'd known these men for little more than a week?