Page 53 of The River of Fire

I pull my finger out of his grasp and stick my tongue at him. I’m mature like that. “And do what?” I ask. “Drown them?”

His eyes twinkle with a sadistic glee that would send a smart person running to the hills. I’m an idiot, though, and the sight, one I often see while he’s pleasuring me, sends a pleasant pinch to my clit. He looks at the apex of my thighs as if he can see it through my clothes. Thankfully – as he’s downright insatiable – he ignores it and continues with the training.

“It’s hard to chase someone when there is water being forceddown your nose and throat.” He drags his eyes up to my face with slow reluctance, as if convincing himself not to act on the carnal urges right this moment.

His glowing amber eyes finally meet mine. “Start by summoning a ball of water in, let’s say, the size of an orange.”

Chapter 38 – Ashtaroth

Ifind myself regretting this plan before I even implement it fully. This is what happens when I listen to my son’s unsolicited advice.

Sariel claimed that I should take Lana on a ‘date’. As if I need to woo my woman with more than my sexual prowess and every luxury she could ever desire. But… what if he is correct? He does have experience with modern humans which I have been sorely lacking these last several millennia. Since Father banished the first Fallen from the radiance of the sun, I have hardly ever allowed myself to be summoned Above. Not that I would have been observing the nuances of human desires even if I could walk their realm freely. No, it was not until I saw a Nephalem with red in her hair and freckles on her face that I wished to learn more about Father’s favored children. Admittedly, I was drawn to her posterior first – I am who I am and even my lamb’s incredible prowess of getting under my corporeal skin has not changed that.

At this very moment, there is a picnic basket set atop of a picnic blanket under one of the mightiest trees in my realm – a rather soggy realm, with a soggy ground, hence the tree.

My kitchen master assured me he would not disappoint this time and has prepared the scene with meticulous care. There are red roses, which I was told now symbolize love. Last I knew, red roses denoted sacrifice and bloodshed, but apparently I am ‘living in the Stone Age’. Then there is chocolate and I have to wonder when that primitive currency became known as an aphrodisiac. Lastly, there is champagne. How fermented wine which notoriously exploded bottles has come to represent the pinnacle of beverages among lovers is a mystery greater than the creation of the universe (no, we do not know either, but it is certainly not as far back in history as humans believe).

“Why exactly are we trudging through the fog this early in the morning?”

Lana’s question makes me doubt any benefits this excursion might have when it comes to her feelings for me. Surely this is not the way to make her fall in love. Feasting on her cunt for a day straight until she pleads for mercy has to be more effective and also more enjoyable for the both of us.

“We are ‘trudging’ because using the ether to travel is detrimental to your wellbeing. It is only a moment longer, sweetness, under the tree up ahead.”

“What is? And what tree?”

I grind my teeth together. This is ridiculous. I call up a breeze to sweep the fog away, revealing the designated picnic spot.

“That tree,” I say with a measure of smugness. The servants did well. A soft blanket is surrounded by thick burning candles, which cast a warm glow on the closed woven basket.

“Wow,” Lana sighs softly. Perhaps this will be good for us after all. I barely start towards the tree again, when I hear anout-of-place thud behind me. Turning, I am met with the scene of Lana on all fours, her gaze both bewildered and embarrassed, having clearly tripped over some critter’s den.

“You are grace incarnate.” Smirking at her clumsiness, I pick her up and cradle her soft, warm body in my arms. Much better.

“I do seem to have the best balance when I’m in a fight for my life, don’t I?” Her mischievous grin allays the spike of fear in my chest by only a fraction. I must ensure she is never in a fight for her life again. Somehow. I walk past the border of the candles and set her down next to the basket.

“Did you do all of this?” I can all but see the hearts in her eyes, remembering a ‘meme’ Sariel once showed me on a stolen mortal’s portable telephone device.

Being completely honest with your partner is something loudly touted by human relationship experts. I have read about the disruptive power of lies in a marriage. Not that we are married.

“Yes.” I dip my chin to relay my (fake) humbleness.

“It’s wonderful, Ash.” Lana takes my hand into both of hers and caresses it affectionately. This is clearly working! By the day’s end, she will be hanging on to every word I say. “It’s just not very…” I look at her from under my lashes, not moving my face an inch. What could be missing? “I mean, it’s not very archdemoney, you know?”

I chuckle, attempting to disguise the sigh of relief I expel. “I merely wanted to take you on a date.”

She narrows her eyes. “Uh-huh.” I widen mine.Uh-oh. “Thank Sariel for me.” I shut my eyes altogether. She is too perceptive to be easily fooled.

“Very well, it was Sariel’s idea, and the kitchen servants set everything up,” I admit.

Her smile is as brilliant as I remember the sun to be. Or Heaven. “What matters is that you’re the one here with me.” I cannot help returning her smile and her expression turns dreamy. She leans forward and brings her face close to mine. “You are so beautiful,” she murmurs. I can feel the whisper of hersoft lips against mine and the warmth from her breath.

Suddenly she flinches with a sharp inhale, nearly crashing our noses against each other. We both look at the picnic basket which just moved on its own. It shudders again and I place it before me, prepared to protect Lana from whatever threat is held inside. Materializing my sword in one hand, I use the other to open the basket’s lid.

Lana yelps as Puck scrambles out, blinking into the only slightly brighter light of day. His belly is hugely distended and I grab him by the scruff of his neck before he can run off. Lana peeks inside the basket and scrunches her nose. “Looks like he ate most of the strawberries. There are a few trampled ones left behind. Oh, and the chocolate looks like Swiss cheese.”

I very slowly turn my glare onto the small demon. He tries to extricate himself from my grasp in jerky movements and his round black eyes are full of fear. Dematerializing my weapon, I instead call up a ball of fire. No one has mentioned that barbeque isnotan aphrodisiac.

“Wait,” Lana laughs at the soon-to-be murder scene in front of her. She is clearly not taking me seriously. “We’ll just have some strawberries and chocolate brought down later.”

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