Chapter Two
“Hello!” he says.
I blink as my brain struggles to catch up to what I’m seeing. There’s no mistaking him because he’s extremely famous. He is the king of an entire other dimension, after all.
Even with that title, he does look mostly human.
His pitch-black hair is perfectly swept back, accentuating his killer jawline and contrasting with his skin, which is as pale as carved stone.
His dark brown eyes are warm but give off a sense of keen intelligence, and are flecked with orange embers.
His outfit is as immaculate as his personal grooming: black suit over a silky black shirt, the only pop of color being his red tie square.
He should not be here. And not because I don’t believe in demons or anything.
If I’m meeting anyone’s parents now, it should be Rohit’s. I should not be standing in front of Maleilius, the king of Hell.
“We have some explaining to do,” says Maleilius, his voice surprisingly bashful for someone as powerful and well known as him.
“Unfortunately, my son’s roommate has become …
uh. Abruptly unavailable. But in a stroke of luck, your roommate, Mr. Bahtia, had a change of heart!
So, the Fates have put you together. Dean Leeke didn’t contact you? ”
I shake my head.
“This must be quite the surprise. And oh, excuse me, mind my manners.” He offers me his hand, which is covered in rings studded with various black jewels. “I’m Maleilius, Lord of Misery and Master of the Rotting Riverlands. Dark tidings to you.”
I shake his hand. The queen of Hell, Lysteria, is standing by the window at the back of the room, inspecting her long red fingernails.
She glances at me, gives me a once-over, and doesn’t look very impressed.
Not that she ever looks impressed by anything.
Always dressed in bold designer clothes and with a vibe that says she’d slit a man’s throat just for fun, the queen of Hell rapidly earned herself status as a gay icon.
Seeing her in person, I try to keep a friendly face while my mind involuntarily whispers, “Slaaaay.”
“I think you’ve startled him,” she says. “Don’t worry, human. We don’t bite.”
“Unless asked!” chimes Maleilius as he pulls down on the lapels of his jacket. “Where were we—ah, introductions. I’m Maleilius, and behind me is my wife, Lysteria.”
“Pleasure,” she says. “I do hope you got through the protest safely. Those humans are simply grotesque. They shouldn’t have let them through the gates—a university is no place for people with a phobia of progress.”
“Darling,” says Maleilius, “please stop watching the protesters. They’ll think you’re cursing them.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. But let’s just say it’s a coincidence some of them will have spider eggs hatching in their stomach tonight.”
Sitting on the bottom bunk of the bed is the prince of Hell.
I know who he is. Zarmenus. I’ve seen him online a lot, too, but in person it’s impossible to miss just how striking he is.
He’s tall with dark features, and his curly black hair manages to look unkempt and yet perfect, falling in a way that totally suits him.
He’s wearing gym shorts and a black tank top that shows off ridiculous biceps.
My new roommate, it seems. He’s looking at his phone, totally ignoring us.
I’m so shocked by their presence that I only now am just figuring out that our room only has a bunk bed.
Every other room I’ve seen, and every post online, showed two beds side by side.
You know, like a normal dorm room. But not this one, for some reason.
In the space where the other bed should be is an old couch.
From where he’s lying, it’s clear Zarmenus has chosen the bottom bunk.
Maleilius clears his throat. Zarmenus keeps looking at his phone, which only makes Maleilius do it louder.
Zarmenus lifts his focus, and his eyes lock onto mine. Like his father’s, his eyes are flecked with cinders.
“Hey,” he says, then he goes back to looking at his phone.
“Zarmenus,” says Maleilius, the tone of warning in his voice clear. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”
Zarmenus rolls his eyes, then gets out of bed and trudges across the room to me.
“Hi,” he says, offering me his hand and making it very clear he is only doing so because he is being forced to by his father. What is he, a petulant toddler?
“Hi,” I say back. “I’m Owen.”
Zarmenus gives me a tight smile. “Zarmenus.”
Zarmenus folds his arms, and I kick at the ground until Maleilius clears his throat.
“Amazing!” says Maleilius. “I can tell you two are going to get on swimmingly.” He turns and notices Mom, who from the looks of things is even more shocked by what we’ve stumbled into than I am. “And you must be Owen’s sister?”
Mom blushes, which I don’t think I’ve ever seen her do before. “I’m Jane, Owen’s mom.”
He lifts Mom’s hand and kisses it. “I must say, you are a truly horrific sight. Where did you get that awful dress?”
Mom just stares at him.
“Dad,” groans Zarmenus. “Please stop flirting with my roommate’s mother.”
A new set of worries is now filling my mind, running alongside the oh-crap-my-roommate-is-a-demon-prince thing.
Because even with all that going on, I can’t help noticing that Zarmenus is, simply put, a classically handsome jock.
I’ve never meshed well with jocks. Like, yes, some of them at school were nice, and I know it’s never good to make assumptions, but I can’t help it.
Some of the most cruel, unlikable people in my high school looked just like him.
They used their popularity and muscles and status to torment people they thought were lesser than them.
And even then, people seemed to bend over backward to cater to their every desire.
“We’ll give you some space to get settled,” says Maleilius.
“But now, boys.” Maleilius puts one hand on my shoulder and the other on Zarmenus’s.
“I want to take a moment to appreciate just how historic this is, and how vital this pairing is to both man- and demonkind. Promise me that you will try your hardest to be good to each other.”
“Stop,” says Zarmenus, shaking his father’s hand off. “He’s already freaking out, there’s no need to make it worse.”
“I’m not freaking out,” I say, which makes everyone in the room look at me. I’m not sure what I said is true, but it does earn a flicker of a smirk from Zarmenus.
“Good,” says Maleilius. “You have no reason to. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Owen and Jane from Earth. We’ll leave so you can get properly acquainted. We’ll be back soon, Zarmenus.”
“I’ll miss you,” says Zarmenus, clearly joking.
Lysteria gives Zarmenus a kiss on the cheek that he begrudgingly stands through.
“Be good,” she says. “But not too good.”
“Never,” he says.
She waves a hand, creating a portal of orange hellfire. The pair step through it, leaving just Zarmenus, Mom, and me in the room.
I’m so stunned I can’t speak. I just saw magic in person.
“Make yourself at home,” says Zarmenus. He drops back onto his bed. “Or don’t, doesn’t really make a difference to me.”
Is this really happening? Demons have visited Earth and spoken with humans, but most of the time they only meet world leaders. Not people like Mom and me.
I look around the room. The walls are butter yellow, and the furniture—just a desk, a bunk bed, a bedside table, and a bookshelf—are all made out of pine.
He’s barely decorated. All he’s done is put a pair of black satin sheets on his bed, hang a small basketball hoop to the left of his desk, and mount a wooden plaque above his headboard that reads: LOVE FOREVER, DREAM BIG, SMILE ALWAYS.
My guess is it’s ironic. By the closet is a pitchfork, as if that’s a totally normal thing to have in a dorm room.
“Your parents seem nice,” I say.
“Don’t say that to Mom,” says Zarmenus, not looking up from his phone. “She’d flay you on the spot.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I fall silent.
A few seconds pass, and it becomes unmissably awkward.
It’s fine, though. Some awkwardness is to be expected, given everything.
It doesn’t mean it will be like this the entire time.
Though I’m not the biggest fan of the threat of a flaying hanging between us.
“Do you know why we have a bunk bed?” I ask.
“Yeah, that was me,” he says. “I’ve always wanted one, and the dean said I can have whatever I want.”
Perfect.
“Oh, shoot,” says Mom. “Owen, you left your sunglasses in the car, we should go and get them.”
Her tone is impossible to miss, and it’s obvious she just wants a second to talk away from Zarmenus. He lifts an eyebrow, making it clear he picked up on her real intent as well.
“Nice meeting you,” I say.
“That’s one way to describe it.”
With that, Mom and I slip out of the room.
As soon as the door is closed, Mom turns to me.
“Oh my God,” she says.