Chain of Lust (Spirit World 2)

Maddie thought hard for an excuse but failed—she hoped a refusal would be enough. “Thank you for the invitation, but I can’t go.”

“Why not?” Terry eyes widened. “It would be good for you. I know some of my friends would love to have you as their personal shopper…”

“That is very thoughtful of you, Madame Ronnauds, but I can’t go.”

Terry’s eyebrow arched. Her voice was laden with curiosity. “Is there a special reason you cannot attend the gala? You can bring that bounty hunter lover of yours.”

“You know Jean-Luc?” Maddie was a little surprised. She hadn’t told anybody she was seeing Jean-Luc. Only Genevieve knew the nature of their relationship.

Terry waved dismissively. “I know of him.”

“I didn’t know he was popular.” Maddie helped Terry with the zipper. It came off easily this time. The gown was loose. Even the corset Terry was wearing was loose.

“Oh, indeed. Monsieur Berthier is quite the talk among us. That charming gentleman. I heard he does lawman work for the Pit.”

The gown slowly slid down to the floor. But Maddie wasn’t paying attention to it. She was transfixed by the back of Terry’s corset. Her client’s skin sagged, as if the fat had been sucked dry before her eyes.

What the hell…

Theirry babbled on and on as Maddie realised something wasn’t right. Black splotches emerged on Terry’s pasty skin. She grew taller and taller, as if the monster within her body was seeking a way out from the obese shell. Her deep voice turned into a shrill whinny. Maddie took a step backwards, but a chair was in her way. She stumbled, hard.

Terry turned around. “Do tell me dear, are you really Berthier’s plaything?”

Panic engulfed Maddie. “W-what are you?”

Terry seized Maddie’s arm and yanked her from the floor. A derisive laugh broke from Terry’s throat. When Maddie took a good look at Terry’s mouth, rows of pointy, shark-like teeth gleamed back at her.

“Little bitch,” Terry said with triumph. “I’ve found you…”

* * * *

Having seen Maddie off to her second day at work, Jean-Luc got down to his own business. In his beastly form, Jean-Luc leapt from one building to another, bounding swiftly across the roads, lakes, and oceans, following Lucifer’s trail. He broke into Lucifer’s mansion in the Pit, looking for any clue as to his whereabouts. The only hi

nt he could pick up on was the scent. Fifteen hours after he’d first started looking, the trail led him to a secluded resort in Phuket, Thailand. His paws hit the pristine white sand. He crouched and shifted into his human form, waiting.

The sunset stretched across the horizon, painting the sky with a red, torrid glow. His Lord sat on a chair of an outdoor restaurant, eating an early dinner. Plate upon plate of freshly cooked seafood lay before him, steaming and wafting delicious aromas of fresh peppers, basil, and garlic over to him. A waiter, dressed in traditional Thai attire, poured him some wine. Lucifer chuckled and thanked him.

What an odd place for a vacation for someone of his status. And his Lord’s chosen form was even odder. Lucifer was disguised as a sleazy, balding, middle-aged tourist, like some kind of corporate fat cat out to spend his embezzlement money in paradise. He was loud and annoying. He ate with disgusting manners. Strange. His Lord was usually refined in every way.

Jean-Luc paused, not convinced by what he saw. He decided to approach his Lord.

The man recognised him. “You.” He didn’t stop demolishing his food. Lucifer seized a big crab claw, dripping with sauce, and cracked it in half. He slurped it noisily. “What do you want, Hellhound?”

“My Lord.” Jean-Luc bowed. “Pardon my intrusion. But you haven’t been back to the Pit for quite a while. Things have happened.”

“Things always happen in the Pit. That’s why we call it the Pit. The clusterfuck of shits.” Lucifer mopped his sweaty forehead with the napkin. It seemed he couldn’t take the spicy Thai food, and yet he continued to chow them down as if there was no tomorrow. He took a large gulp of the wine and belched heartily. “What did she do this time?”

It appeared his lord knew the majority of the Pit fuckups were always associated with Lilith. Jean-Luc jumped on his chance. “It’s about my charge, Lord. Siegfried Chacon.” He told him about the feud between Lilith and Balam, and how Lilith had used her connections to pressure him to release Siegfried from his custody.

Lucifer heard his story with little interest. When Jean-Luc finished presenting his case, he waved dismissively. “You tracked me all the way here only to bother me with this petty matter? I will sort this one upon my return.”

“But my Lord—”

“I know your reputation, Berthier. You’ve always got your men. What’s the matter? You don’t like to see your record broken?”

“That is not why I’m here, my Lord. I’m asking you for a boon. I wish you to pass a judgement in favour of Duke Balam.”

Jean-Luc had thought long about his decision to bring this matter to Lucifer’s attention. After he’d found out that Jezebel, under Lilith’s order, had used Adrian Storke’s death omen to harm Maddie, he’d calculated it was only a matter of time before Jezebel tried again. He wouldn’t win against Lilith. In Pit hierarchy, a Hellhound was only an ordinary grunt, compared to a powerful demon like Lilith. Maddie was a pawn and he couldn’t lose her. The only person who could solve this problem was Lucifer. Once he had passed the judgement, there was nothing Lilith could do about it.