Taige peered from the recesses of a marble alcove in the private penthouse suite of his master’s casino in Las Vegas. He scanned the sun-drenched room, his gaze touching on several CEOs from various conglomerates around the world and dignitaries who, for the first time, had gathered for a clandestine celebration. A member of their inner circle had been elected prime minister of his country. Another gateway to unfettered wealth had opened. More money to line his master’s pockets. More power to wield in order to line his pockets, instead of controlling humanity, finding the Cruor, freeing their trapped brethren from the depths of Hell.

Tonight, it was his assignment, both with direct interaction and preternatural means, to study his master’s partners and competitors. What better time than a celebration to do both.

Taige gritted his teeth and left his seclusion. He circled the room, gleaning tidbits of conversations along the way. He paused to speak with a flunky of the British ambassador. The man had spent a lengthy amount of time schmoozing with his master. Taige exchanged pleasantries with the young man and planted the impression that he was a trustworthy confidante, available for discrete conversations any time of the day or night. Then Taige delved deep into the man’s psyche for a cursory scan of his memories.

He pulled away and gave a mental spat. The human was in love. His thoughts centered on a woman he’d spent the night with. Taige pushed past the useless longing and traveled deeper. His master wanted information on the British government and wouldn’t be forgiving if Taige failed.

He found some useful information and excused himself from the young man. Agon, a fellow Spaun, watched him from his position against a far wall. Taige schooled his features into a pleasant demeanor and moved on. He circled the room, his pace leisurely as he weaved through the CEOs and their female companions. A few females threw him a sultry, though covert, glance. The form he’d chosen was pleasing to the eye— tall, lean, with the appropriate amount of muscles, clean shaven with cropped blond hair. He copied the form after a picture of a male on a movie poster he’d seen after escaping Hell.

The females wasted their time and efforts. The last thing Taige wanted from any human was copulation. Unfortunately, his master didn’t share the same opinion. He had already chosen his bed partner for the night. The female in the green dress would enjoy his attention, though enjoyment came in a variety of forms. What was pleasure to one, was pain to another. Either way, if she was fortunate, she wouldn’t remember much.

His master laughed and the sound cascaded through the room, picked up and replicated by all in attendance, except him. Ninety percent had no idea why they laughed, the sycophants. Taige smirked, aware of the irony. He was the sycophant, at least that was his official job in Hell and here on earth. Catering to his master’s needs defined his existence. But his bootlicking came with conditions, conditions his master hadn’t met in decades.

They escaped from Hell to conquer and pave the way for the others. Not to eat, drink, fuck, swill with the humans like pigs in slop. They came here to conquer the world, not the stock market. He needed to get back to the farm, back to his search for the Cruor. It was the one thing that could alter the tides on the mockery his master had made of their presence on earth.

“Taige!”

He jerked to a halt and turned slowly to face Agon. “Yes?”

“Did you not hear me call you?” Agon stepped closer.

“Obviously not since I didn’t respond. What can I help you with this evening?”

“That is a question I was about to ask you. You are distracted, which is unusual for one with such focus.” Agon eyed Taige suspiciously.

Once again, Taige schooled his features into the passive acceptance that was expected. “Only because of the amount of people here. I worry about his safety.”

Agon’s voice lowered. “Your worry is commendable, but unnecessary. Our master is more than capable of taking care of anyone foolish enough to threaten him in any way.”

Taige tipped his head and said, “You are correct.” He walked away before what he really wanted to say slipped free. Soon, he promised himself as thoughts of opening the Cruor teased him. Soon all the Spaun and Darklings would know his contempt for the one he called Master. But first, he had to get it, then find a way to open it.

At the earliest opportunity, he slipped out of a side door and ran down the back staircase to the garage. With a flex of his power, he destroyed the surveillance camera and most of the overhead lights. With the darkness, came the Darklings drawn to him by their symbiotic coupling. They frothed outside the circle of light he stood in.

A car door slammed and he targeted his first victim. A purple muscle car screeched into the garage, tires smoking. The driver whipped into a parking spot and exited the car full of swagger. Taige targeted his second victim. The third victim exited an SUV. All three headed for the elevators. One complained about the broken lights. The other two agreed about the shoddy management. The moment they crossed from the light into the murkiness, the Darklings struck. The struggle was over before they had a chance to react. He gave all the Darklings their instructions and returned to the party.

“Salute!” Someone shouted and glasses were lifted in the air.

Taige grabbed a glass of champagne from a waitress carrying a tray and joined the sycophants. “To Malphas!” he shouted and downed the foul liquid, using it as fuel to spark his grand ambitions, the death of a Demoni Lord.