Demon Lord 5: Silver Crown King by Morgan Blayde

“God’s honest truth.  Go ahead, it won’t kill you.”
    I lifted the top slice of bread and studied the insides.  “Are you sure.”
    “If you don’t like it, don’t eat it.”  Vivian picked up her red plastic cup and guzzled.  “There’s blood if you prefer.”
    I sat down, sliding my hand in my pocket, feeling the smooth lid of the coper box.  What I wanted was to rush out and investigate what was on these crystals.  But I had other business while I was here.  “Vivian, I’m hosting a coronation in Fairy, my own.  I want you to come.”
    “Trying to set up free security?” she asked.
    Yes .  “Not at all.  It will be a hell of a party.  I just want you there.”  I let her read whatever she wanted into that statement.
    “I’ll be your date?”
    “Sure, but as the host, I’ll also have to divide my time among fey lords and ladies, tend to security matters, and manage my visiting demon clan as well.  “And giving you fair warning, I expect a large number of assassins to crash the party.  I’ll let you kill as many as you want.”
    “What kind of fey assassins are we talking about?”  She asked.
    I noticed that Carson had paused in his meal to listen very intently.  I said, “Storm fey and
    Autumn Court fey, probably Shadow Court as well.  You’ll want to pack a lot of fire power.  Mortal combat is how I plan to entertain my guests.”
    She smiled like a predator.  “Sounds fun.  Count me in.”
    “We just kill the evil fey,” I reminded her.  Or those who get in my way .
    “Where’s the fun in that?” Carson asked.
    Vivian nodded agreement.
    “Izumi’s fey,” I said.  “Do you want her dead?”
    Vivian set down her cup of blood.  “No.  Izumi’s kinda cool, once you get past that over-possessive bitch façade, even if she takes up way too much of your time.”
    I sighed.  “It’s terrible.  I know, so many women and have only one god-like cock to pass around.”
    Carson growled.  “Hey, I’m eating here.”
    Vivian’s eyes warmed at the mention of manhood.  She leaned forward, and stared meaningfully.  “Want me to show you around before you go?”
    I didn’t think inspecting the house was what she really wanted.  I pushed the glorified bologna sandwich away and got up from the bench.  “Sure.”
    She got to her feet and came around the table.  “This way.”  She headed through a space where double doors might once have been.  We passed a living room where the faded wallpaper was being removed, where ladders and buckets of paint waited.  There were sheets and tarps spread to protect the floor along the base of the walls.  A crystal chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling.  It had pointy lightbulbs mixed in.  The lights were on.
    A hallway with bare wood flooring led us to a back room.  She waited at the door as I approached.  I looked past her, into at a master bedroom with an actual bed, queen-sized.  The drapes were closed and heavy so the space was stuffed with gloom.  She pushed me inside and followed, locking the door behind her. 
    She stood there with fists on her hips, daring me to make a move, when I knew—on the inside—she was begging.  She said, “If I’m going to be missing out on a lot of your time during this coronation, don’t you think you should make it up to me now?” 
    Being no fool, I quickly shed my clothes and bared a very hard erection.  My hungry eyes devouring her.  I went closer.  She held a hand up to stall me.  “Dhampyr are tough.  You don’t have to be gentle.  In fact, if you don’t tear off my clothes and ravish me in a lust-driven frenzy
    I’ll be deeply disappointed.”
    I grinned.  “Can’t have that, can we?”  I lunged and enveloped her, slamming her to the bed, ripping away her top, attacking the fastenings of her shorts.  The zipper tore out.  The material shredded away, bouncing her pelvis on the bed as she was bared for consumption.  She squealed, like this was