By the time Bune dragged Zac to the war room, Zac had finally felt like he could give a real shot at water skiing. He let go of the dragon's arm and slowly slid to a stop next to the hellish hydra, his leopard-print feet creating just enough friction to keep him from crashing into the wall.
The war room door looked exactly the same as the last time he was in front of it. Zac sighed, remembering how he cried and cried about that bastard leopard demon Ose tricking him into the most sexually frustrating hell that anyone could ever be put into. Even Genghis Khan being turned into a eunuch water boy for a women's roller derby team filled with buff and goth tom-boys would not suffer the way I am right now, Zac thought bitterly.
Bune knocked politely. "Captain, you called?"
The door flew open. Zac dodged this time, he knew that doors were not his friend in Hell after being smacked by them so many times.
Marchosias stood there, looking like he'd just run a marathon through a hurricane. His uniform was half-buttoned, his grey fur flustered and standing on end, his hackles raised aggressively. His amber eyes were bloodshot, and he was nearly panting.
"BUNE!" he roared. "I called for you over a minute ago!"
Zac's knees went weak. Please bite me, angry wolf daddy, he thought, his heart fluttering. Turn me into your little twinky werewolf omega breeding pup and don't let me out of the cave for anything, ever. Bark in my ear. I don't care if you mark me… no, please mark me, master.
"We have a guest," Marchosias yell-talked at his dragon butler, completely ignoring the swooning human. "I want you to be sure that there are no, uh, feral cats that need to be spayed, lurking around the castle."
Marchosias slowly blinked as he finally registered Zac standing next to Bune. His tail suddenly tucked between his legs, and the wolfman went silent, his bravado evaporating like mist. The door slowly creaked open the rest of the way.
Zac peeped around March and looked into the room.
The other demons were already there, silently looking at him. Skarg waved happily, his antler-nubs wiggling. Nock gave a charming smile and coiffed his mane, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Halphas leaned back in his chair and flexed his pecs, while Andras smirked, lazily thumbing the edge of his cutlass.
But they were not the only ones in the room.
Zac's eyes landed on a new individual, and they looked... quite different from the demons he knew.
She was a camel woman, tall and strikingly beautiful. Her fur was the color of desert sand at sunset, smooth and lustrous. She wore a flowing gown of vibrant Middle Eastern silk that draped elegantly over her form, hinting at curves that were both soft and powerful. Around her waist, cinching the silk, was a heavy golden crown worn as a belt. Her eyes were large, dark, and lashed, filled with an ancient, regal intelligence.
As her gaze landed on Zac, her eyes widened. Her hand went slack. The crystal glass she had been holding slipped from her fingers.
CRASH.
The sound of shattering glass echoed in the silent room. She stared at Zac, her mouth slightly agape, as if she had just seen a ghost, or perhaps, something far more interesting.
"Bune..."
The camel woman's voice was a sultry desert wind, hot, dry, and laden with expensive spices. It poured over the room like syrup. "What... what is... how did this human get here?"
Marchosias yelped, a high-pitched, undignified sound. He practically threw himself between Zac and the newcomer, spreading his arms wide to block her view, his coat tails flapping.
"It must be, uh, one of Bune's undead servants!" the Captain stammered, sweat beading on his forehead. "A fresh one! Not yet decayed! Bune, why did you bring such a thing here? It smells terrible!"
He whipped his head around, glaring over his shoulder at Zac and the dragon butler. "Get the Avatar the fuck out of here right now," he hissed, spittle flying from his lips. "What in the Hell do you think you're-"
"Silence."
The single word cut through the panic like a scimitar. She rose from the table, her movements languid and terrifyingly graceful. She stood tall, her silk gown shimmering around her like a mirage.
"I was not talking with you, Marchosias," she said, her dark lashes fluttering as she looked down her long, elegant snout at him. "I asked Bune a question."
Marchosias whipped his head back to face her, his lips peeling back to reveal gleaming white fangs. A low, vibrating growl shook his chest, the sound of tectonic plates grinding together.
"You dare talk to me like that in my own keep?" he snarled, his hackles rising to their full height. "I am the Commander of-"
"I DARE."
The camel woman's eyes narrowed into dangerous crescents of obsidian. The air pressure in the room dropped instantly, making ears pop.
"You will not talk over me, you little Marquis," she purred, the sweetness of her tone masking the venom. "I am Duchess Gremory! Procurer of the Love of Women! Companion of maidens! Commander of Twenty-Six Legions!"
She took a step forward, the golden crown at her waist clanking softly. She ignored the wolf's growl completely, turning her gaze back to the dragon butler.
"And I am talking with Duke Bune," she finished, dismissing the wolf with a wave of a manicured hand. "Why don't you go sit in your chair like a good puppy?"
Zac's mind stuttered. His brain tried to process the hierarchy, the danger, the sheer, radiating power of the camel woman. But it all snagged on one phrase.
Good puppy.
She just called him a puppy. And not in the sexy, degradation-kink way. She said it like he was a petulant dog who peed on the rug.
Zac felt a surge of heat rise in his chest. It wasn't fear (he physically couldn't feel that) and it wasn't lust, for once. It was indignation. Righteous, defensive fury. This pretty bitch just told his main boy to be quiet in his own house? The gall... the audacity!
Zac stepped out from behind Bune's legs. He planted his leopard-print slippered feet firmly on the stone floor, crossed his arms over his fleece chest, and glared up at the towering Duchess.
"Hey, Humps!" Zac shouted, his voice cracking with outrage. "Why don't you be quiet? Marchy-poo is the Captain!"
The room went deadly silent.
Nock, Halphas, and Andras all looked nervously between Zac and the towering Duchess, their earlier bravado evaporating. Marchosias's breath hitched, his growl sputtering out like a dying engine as he stared at the small human defending his honor. Gremory blinked, her long lashes fluttering in genuine shock. She looked like she had just been slapped with a wet fish.
"Sister..." Bune stepped up beside Zac, all four of his hands wringing together nervously. "What... what brings you here on such a... dreadful evening?"
"Did you just call me Humps?"
Gremory ignored Bune entirely. She began to stalk toward Zac, her movements slow and predatory, her silk gown whispering against the stone.