A Calling For Pleasure

The rush of the summoning fizzled out of Rael’s brain, leaving his mood switched to high and all his senses buzzing. He'd materialized in a small room with the drapes drawn—a teenager's bedroom, he guessed from the weird-ass posters on the walls and the eau de socks perfuming the air. There was a raggedy salt circle messing up the carpet around him, and thirteen stubby, smoky little candles he was just itching to snuff before they made the whole room reek like rancid fat. Damn, someone's mom was going to be mad about this little stunt.

A pimply-faced kid sat on the bed with his jaw hanging open. As Rael watched, a grimoire slipped from slack fingers and fell with a thud to the carpet.

Rael gave the sebum king his best slow smile. “You called?” he breathed, feeling the vibes as his powers rippled right on out through the air.

“You’re... you’re not a succubus!” the kid croaked. “You’re a man!”

Rael raised an eyebrow. “You know, there are laws against gender discrimination in the workplace.”

“In Hell?”

“We're not in Hell now, are we, honey?” Rael leaned forward, fixing the kid right in the eye. “Now, why don’t we get me out of this circle, and I’ll show you what a real demon can do for you?”