My eyes popped open. That incessant pacing over my head had returned. Two days of that racket were too much. The constant footsteps reminded me of the ceaseless sounds associated with those awaiting execution. But it wasn’t the Middle Ages. And nobody was about to die.
Not yet, anyway.
I glanced up. That thunderous noise came from the attic, and its resident fool—Claudius Najex. He was the brother to the former owner of the house and son of the King of Hell.
Why couldn’t Claudius keep his ass seated? Slowly, I sat up and stretched. I knew the reason for the frantic movement. Undoubtedly, Ashmedai’s offspring was hungry. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t been warned. When I chose to keep the house, I also adopted the incubus. Claudius had existed in the attic for more years than anyone knew thanks to his son, Tiberius. People in town had probably thought he died—if they remembered him at all.
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