If I found Father having his horns polished by an idiocy of imps again, I told myself I would walk straight back out.

But when I opened the door, I froze.

No imps were present.

No demons either—save the King of them all, sitting spreadeagled on his throne, fondling his horn with one hand, the other tangled in the dark hair of …

… Of the human male kneeling between his legs, taking my father deep into his mouth, and moaning like it was the most delightful thing he’d ever put in there.

There was a human—and not a human soul, a real, living human—in the throne room. Engaging in oral sex with my father.

“Oh! Oh … uh, SJ, hello!” Father grunted awkwardly when he noticed me, his fingers tightening in the human’s hair. “I … uh … oh fuck, Al, that’s the way, you greedy boy!” His eyes fell closed, and he groaned.

I turned away, but it was too late to block out the sound of my father coming. I should have left. But something stopped me.

Dark-haired human male … who Father had just called Al …

“Alessio?” I grunted once it was clear my father had finished. “Alessio Cattaneo?”

“Mmmph,” was the response, and I barely kept myself from retching.

“Come, son.” It was not a request. I turned and moved stiffly, reluctantly, into the room. He hitched his breeches, covering himself.

And perched on the arm of the throne was the chef who had sold his soul to my father for his silly little Michelin Star, wiping at his mouth and smirking in my direction.

I swallowed back my rage, stopping several feet from the throne and silently waiting for Father to speak.

“Is your experiment going to plan, son?”

I found my eyes drawn to the dark-haired chef. “I’m sure you already know all the details.” At least now I could be sure that the Hounds had nothing to do with my sister knowing too much.

He looked completely unapologetic about being the one to come running to Hell to report on my movements. I cursed myself for a fool. No one in this place was out for anyone but themselves. Including Father. And apparently, his human sex minions.

“I wish to hear it from you.” The tone brooked no argument. So I repeated the lies I’d told Hellen earlier. I produced the Soul Token, though it cost me dearly, especially when Father’s smile turned acquisitive.

“All this power, just from one little human?”

“To be fair, Satan, she was very ill. Your son did his research well with his little human.” Alessio stroked my father’s horn as he said it, and the sly grin on his face told me he knew exactly what that sort of touch did to a devil.