‘‘That’s all right.’’ She patted my hand for a moment, then turned to preen in front of the black-draped mirror that sat in the room Magoth had (unwillingly) assigned to me. ‘‘I like my men a bit dim. Makes them easier to handle.’’

It was my turn to stare in disbelief, and stare I did. ‘‘It’s true I don’t know anything about your background other than the fact that you felt it important, for some reason completely beyond my comprehension, to try and obtain the currently vacant position of prince of Abaddon. But that aside, I think you are grossly underestimating Magoth’s true nature. He’s manipulative, greedy, self-centered, ruthless to the extreme, and brings new meaning to the word ‘diabolical.’ In short, he is everything evil you can possibly imagine . . . and so much more.’’

‘‘Sweet, sweet May . . . singing my praises to the delicious Sally, are you? How thoughtful.’’

The voice that spoke held a note of amusement that didn’t lull me into a sense of comfort. Magoth in a normal (read: evil) mood I could handle, but a playful, amused Magoth was especially dangerous.

‘‘I’m simply telling her the truth about you,’’ I said cautiously, turning to eye him. As a mortal, Magoth had been an incredibly handsome man, with sinfully black hair and eyes, and a seductive manner that had left women over the centuries sighing . . . those who survived his attentions, that is. Although demon lords could change their appearance to suit their whims, Magoth had never altered his, finding that his true form suited his purposes just fine.

He leaned with languid grace against the doorframe to my room, a wicked light dancing in his black eyes, his hair once again slicked back, making obvious the resemblance to his movie-star self from some ninety years before. ‘‘May I enter?’’ he asked now with a slightly raised eyebrow at my slowness.

‘‘Sins of the saints, you make him ask to come into your room?’’ Sally’s little gasp of surprise drew Magoth’s attention to her as he oiled his way in.

‘‘It is a little game we play, my sweet May and me— she insists that I not enter her so-charming chamber without her express consent, and I pretend to go along with it. And speaking of games, shall we indulge in a threesome?’’ Magoth flung himself down on my bed and patted the mattress with a seductive look pointed at me. ‘‘I’ll have to let May go first, since she will be my consort, but you may feel free to indulge in your wildest fantasies with me, Sally. I’m sure May won’t protest if you ride me like a rented mule.’’

‘‘Oh!’’ Sally said, shooting me a quick glace, but I was unsure whether she was startled by the thought of indulging in a threesome or by the fact that I would apparently not be bothered about my so-called lover’s infidelities. ‘‘I don’t . . . um . . .’’