If it didn't kill them first.
"They're blood-drunk," Asmodeus explained as he tugged on Jericho's arm. "Appears they've never celebrated their victories before. Personally reminds me of a bunch of drunk frat boys, but what do I know? I've only seen the movie Animal House. At least none of them are pretending to be zits." Asmodeus shuddered.
Jericho scowled at the rambling demon. "Are you always this random?"
He nodded glibly. "Mostly. It really irritates Noir, which is just an added bonus for me. At least so long as I can outrun him."
Jericho gave him a hard, unamused stare. "Add me to that list of people you annoy."
"Oh." He looked a bit stricken. "You're not going to singe my testicles over it, are you?" Jericho admired the even, dry delivery of a question that was obviously near and dear to the demon's heart.
"No plans to."
Asmodeus cheered up immediately. "Good. We can be friends, then."
Friends? Given the demon's personality, he wasn't so sure about that. But Asmodeus seemed rather harmless and a font of information. Perhaps it wouldn't be too bad to keep him around.
Provided he could calm down. There was something about the demon that reminded him of a wound-up Jack Russell terrier.
Jericho turned his attention back to the horny, out-of-control Skoti. "So who leads them?"
"That one." Asmodeus pointed toward a couch where a male Skotos was entwined with two half-naked females. "I think they're having trouble adjusting to the emotions they have outside of their dreams. At any rate, they keep acting like demented teenagers from a porno version of a John Hughes film."
Jericho frowned. "How are you so up to speed on pop culture?"
"You ever been trapped in a hell hole? When not being tortured by psychos, there's not much else to do. Besides, I like Molly Ringwald. She has this demon look about her that really turns me on. Wish I could get her out of her panties for a few minutes."
Yeah... well, at least it explained much about the demon's insanity.
Jericho watched the Skotos, who was oblivious to the fact that there were unwanted guests here as he kissed his way down the female's body. "Head guy is Zeth?"
Asmodeus grinned. "Oooh, someone was paying attention in class. Yes. Zeth. I would introduce you but he doesn't like me, either. And since he's one of those kids who likes to pull the wings off demons-"
"You don't have any wings," Jericho reminded him.
"Anymore. Key word there."
Jericho winced in sympathetic pain. He wasn't sure if he still had his own wings or not. As a human, they'd been taken from him. And since his powers had been restored, he had yet to try them out.
Not wanting to think about that right now, he made his way through the floor of passed out or entwined bodies to the couch where Zeth appeared as drunk as the rest of them.
He didn't look up until Jericho cleared his throat.
Zeth pulled his head back from the woman's throat to stare up at him.
Jericho frowned. Instead of the trademark blue eyes of the Skoti, Zeth's were jet black. So black, he couldn't even see the man's pupils. Were they that dilated or did something else cause it?
Zeth looked him up and down. "Who are you?"
"Your new commander."
Zeth snorted. "Got one. Don't need another, so piss-off."
"Too late." Jericho looked around to get an idea of how many Skoti were in the room. It appeared to be several hundred and none looked to be sober. "Are all of your soldiers here?"
Zeth leaned his head back so that one of the women could suckle his neck. "I don't know. Maybe."
Jericho pulled the woman off of Zeth, then grabbed him by his shirt and hauled him to his feet. "Focus, asshole. What is wrong with you?"
Zeth's head lolled back. "I can't focus. There's too much sensory overload." Zeth laughed as he patted Jericho on the shoulder. "You need to get laid."
Jericho had to force himself not to slap some sense into the man. But it was hard to maintain his control. "You need to sober up. How can you fight the Oneroi like this?"
"We don't need to tight them. We convert them."
Disgusted, Jericho let go of him and Zeth sank back to the couch. Without a word, Zeth rolled over on top of the other female while the first one draped herself across his back so that they could resume necking.
Ridiculous.
"Asmodeus!" Jericho called, summoning the demon again.
He appeared instantly. "You rang, Minor Master?"
I'm looking for a god called Deimos. Is he here?"
Asmodeus screwed his face up before he answered. "Define here"
"Asmodeus!"
"Okay, fine, don't yell at me. I don't like being yelled at. He's not here in this room, obviously, but he is in the realm, if you know what I mean."
"Take me to him."
Asmodeus looked around sheepishly. "Am I supposed to do that?"
"If you don't, you're going to have something a lot more painful than your wings pulled off."
He gaped and then cupped himself. "You're a mean, mean man."
Jericho had no intention of doing that to him, but he wasn't about to let the demon know that. "And you're about to be in pain."
"Fine. I'll take you. But if O Great Evil One comes around, I'm blaming you immediately. This is not my heat. Not my bad. I won't own it, not even for a friend. You're on your own, bud."
This time Asmodeus didn't walk. He touched Jericho's arm and transported them into a dark, iridescent pit. An unbearable stench permeated the place, as did moans and pleas for final death. Noir would definitely call it homey, but Jericho, in spite of his desire for vengeance, couldn't call it anything other than hell.
"Where are we?"
Asmodeus created a ball of light in his hand so that they could see the ravaged bodies that were chained and bleeding everywhere. "Noir's happy place. It's where he brings the beings he wants to play with."
"Punish."
"You say to-may-to, I say to-mah-to. Would you like to see Deimos now?"
Jericho tried not to commiserate with the poor souls trapped in this dismal place. "That's why we're here."
Asmodeus pointed behind him. "He's the fifth victim on the wall. I think. Kind of hard to tell, really. Once they've been beaten enough their features start contorting and swelling, then figuring out who's who is a bitch. But he had blond streaks in his hair when they brought him in. If the blood hasn't matted it too badly, that might help you find him."