Free A Demon in the Dark by Joshua Ingle Page A

conquest. He fluttered among the men, whispering fantasies and malicious thoughts and who knew what else. Two dozen of Thorn’s followers were arrayed in a semicircle around him as he observed his student.
    Two days down, twenty-nine to go. Shenzuul wasn’t as dumb as Thorn had assumed, but Thorn would be glad to get rid of him. Thorn had accumulated an immense quantity of knowledge regarding human temptation in his lifetime, and he hated to impart any more of it to Shenzuul. But it was necessary for his masquerade.
    Shenzuul and Joel seem little removed from each other , Thorn observed as Shenzuul flitted about and Joel took a deep gulp of his drink. He imagined them both as little children, showing their friends a new toy or skill, wanting people to think they were cool. Both of them thought myopically. Why delay gratification when you could satiate yourself now? Because of the cycle of power, Shenzuul. Like money, power is fickle. The more you use it the sooner you lose it, and the more waste you leave in your wake. Thorn had fallen and risen again countless times before he had learned the benefits of thinking long-term. Perhaps that very lesson had led to his recent change of heart.
    Thorn saw himself in Joel as well. The doctor wanted success so badly, and demons had warped his definition of success so much that this, a night at a club blowing loads of money on shallow friends, seemed like success to him. Was he happy? Thorn doubted it. Thorn had never been happy with his own success. All he had ever wanted was more . Even now. More knowledge.
    “Your readers.” Shenzuul’s loud words to Joel interrupted Thorn’s musings. “Brag your friends all the readers you have.”
    “Be careful,” Thorn said to maintain his cover. “Don’t let him see what society did to enable him to earn his wealth. Let him think he earned it himself. Joel’s readers didn’t give him the money, nor the father who paid for his education nor the family who supported him emotionally nor the publishing company that took a chance on his book. Joel deserves that money, and has no responsibilities with it except to satisfy the whims of his own pleasure and ambition.”
    A fight was breaking out nearby, apparently over a woman. A thin, balding man was pushing a younger, muscular man, who was removing his jacket for a fight. The woman was trying to hold the bald man back while calling for a bouncer. Shenzuul seemed distracted by the action as he replied to Thorn. “But I making Joel brag. I subtle.”
    “Just be careful is all. Remember what I told you about shortsighted thinking.”
    Shenzuul abruptly swung over Joel and toward the fight, which was apparently too exhilarating to resist. Some other demons had already joined the ruckus to egg the men on, but Shenzuul darted to the center of them. Only after Shenzuul had whispered in the thin man’s ear did Thorn see that he was armed. “Shoot him!” Shenzuul yelled loud enough for the whole room to hear.
    The thin man drew and fired. Every patron jumped behind the nearest counter or table, or ran for an exit. Joel hit the floor. A bouncer tackled the thin man, bones cracking as they hit the ground. The muscular man checked himself. He appeared unharmed.
    Then a woman screamed. Near the back of the club, Joel’s fair-skinned waiter had taken the bullet meant for the muscular man. He lay on the ground, precious blood seeping out of his neck so fast that Thorn knew he wouldn’t survive. Thorn was surprised to see color leaving Joel’s face as he stared at the dying man. Joel appeared even more stupefied than the situation warranted. Traumatized, even.
    As the lights went up and the music died and humans attended to the expiring waiter, Shenzuul smugly meandered back to Thorn. “Subtle not always better,” Shenzuul said, making sure Thorn’s followers could hear. “You say, think long-term. You say, ruin man’s life. Well long-term, that man dead. His life ruined.”
    The casualness