Eclipse of the Crown (Villains & Virtues, #3)

by A.K. Caggiano

The Grand Order of Dread, or GOoD, had since come to appreciate the art of documentation as failing to do so in the past lent itself to unmitigated disasters like Yvlcon two hundred and fifty-three when proper communication was not drafted and the meeting location turned out to be a direbadger mating ground or Yvlcon six hundred and eleven when a summons was sent to a direct descendant of a dominion instead of the intended demonic offspring due to an ill-placed apostrophe who subsequently slaughtered half of the attendees.

Damien ran a hand over his face, skin itchy, and he would have liked to adjust the tightness in his breeches if she’d

just give him one or seven more inches of space between them, but she insisted on being right up against him, so he instead tried to conjure the least attractive image he possibly could in his mind. “How many orgies have you been in?” Well, that wasn’t going to do it. “I’ve, uh…lost count?”

Just as Damien was mentally juggling quality versus quantity and weighing the results against the resilience of his jaw, there was a rumble, and the door he’d been pacing outside finally shifted, a slab of stone grinding against more stone, horrible, ominous, and annoying.

“Don’t make me do the math. You’ve an exact date in mind, yes?” THE TWENTY-THIRD.

“It’s more complex than that.” “Yes, I’m sure you could fill two, maybe even three whole tomes with all the complexities of your internal conflict, but what’s the plan now? You’re going to let the kitten live and leave our parents trapped in their crystal prisons forever?”

“No, no, my father is only a demon, not a swirling vortex of entropy. At least that’s not how I remember him.” His face screwed up. “He would have said something by now, surely.”

Trapped in her grasp, he teetered on the edge of his seat. Damien had told her he felt as though he were falling interminably through the Abyss every moment he was not burying his cock in her, and also that her incessant kindness had broken him and made him good. Or something like that; who could really remember? It was not as if it were written down in some tome, and he could flip to chapter sixteen to repeat it. “I do not know how you expect me to recall my words when at the time all of my blood was in my…pulsing manhood.”

He sighed, hands on his hips. “When am I going to accept I have no idea what you’re capable of?” Amma blew out a long breath, tongue lolling out. “Whoo, Damien, I don’t know if I could have taken it if it’d been much bigger.”

He cleared his throat, tucking the memory of her words away for the off chance he did survive all of this and found himself alone. “Yes, well, look at you, still conscious and everything.”

“Good point. I remember the witches doing this…” Amma lifted her staff overhead, awkwardly sliding it down her back as if sheathing it in a scabbard that wasn’t there, and then it vanished. “Neat!”

“Kaz!” Amma pushed up onto her knees and threw her arms out. “Harlot!” Kaz bound toward Amma and wrapped long, spindly arms around her middle. Amma squeezed him back, tears in her eyes.

Also, I’ve been doing my best, but Damien has proven himself quite abductable lately. Like, maybe a little too abductable considering how close together these two abductions happened. In fact, if someone were telling me about this, I would probably think the pacing was a little off.”

Xander pouted. “Oh, what, now you get to make all the decisions because you’ve got the end times inside you?”

“Sanguinisui, do not hurt yourself or anyone else and purge out Bloodthorne’s Talisman of Enthrallment.” There was a thunk and the stone fell to the floor between them. Damien stared at the talisman and screwed up his face. “Maybe I should have tried that back in the Sanctum.” Amma snorted. “Well, thank darkness you didn’t.” And she kissed him again.