‘‘I’m expected,’’ I answered airily, trying to quell the bile that inevitably rose within my gut whenever I was summoned before Magoth. He might be the lowest of all the demon lords, but my meetings with him were fraught with . . . well, dread.

‘‘It’s your life,’’ Sobe answered with a shrug, returning its attention to the laptop. ‘‘What’s left of it.’’

I squared my shoulders, gathering up my strength before I knocked gently on the door that led into a large office. Magoth on the best of days wasn’t easy to deal with. . . . A happy Magoth boded ill for everyone.

‘‘Entrez!’’

A little shiver ran down my spine as I opened the door. Low, smoky music drifted out of invisible speakers as I negotiated the candlelit narrow hallway that opened into Magoth’s living quarters, which he used as his office.

‘‘Ah, May, what a delight to see you again. You look as delicious as ever.’’ Magoth shimmered into view, dressed in a dark blue shirt open three-quarters of the way down his chest, tight black leather pants, and a bullwhip wrapped around his waist.

I cocked an eyebrow at the sight of the whip. ‘‘Been watching Indiana Jones movies again?’’

His smile was blatantly sexual, right down to the devilish twinkle in his black eyes. ‘‘Just indulging myself in a few fantasies. Speaking of which . . .’’ He threw himself down onto a white leather couch, patting the seat. ‘‘Come sit with Papa.’’

‘‘Are we ever going to be able to do this without sexual harassment?’’ I asked, primly seating myself on a chair as far away from him as I could get.

‘‘Sweetness,’’ he cooed, rolling over onto his back and giving me a playful look. ‘‘Come. And I do mean that literally.’’

I thinned my lips and stayed put.

‘‘Hey, little girl.’’ He unbuttoned the last few buttons on his shirt and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. ‘‘Can I interest you in a piece of candy?’’

I lifted my chin.

His fingers drifted down to his waistband as he pouted slightly. ‘‘I’m going to think my little loveykins is mad unless she gives her daddy some sugar.’’

‘‘Oh, for mercy’s sake . . . Magoth!’’ I said, exasperated.

He sighed and propped himself up, his shirt gaping open in a way that allowed me to see his entire masculine chest. As a demon lord, Magoth had the ability to don whatever form he chose, but oddly enough, the one he had used ever since I had been bound to him was his true form—that of a black-haired, black-eyed, incredibly handsome man who unabashedly oozed sexuality. ‘‘If I didn’t know better, my dear, I’d swear you had no soul. What can a little wicked indulgence hurt?’’

‘‘ ‘Hurt’ being the key word,’’ I said, crossing my arms over my stomach and reminding myself that no matter how human he looked, he was still a demon lord.