That set off a flurry of questions. How and why, why he’d lied, what it meant. Astaroth was growing tenser with every moment, so Calladia did her best to answer succinctly. When she mentioned how Isobel had stolen his immortality to supplement her own life, she reached under the table to grip his hand. Astaroth looked surprised, then squeezed her fingers in return.
“So,” Mariel said when the explanation was done. “Where we’re at now is that Astaroth doesn’t remember the last few hundred years, but he apparently knows something about Moloch that might defeat him.”
“He was going to share what it was at the council meeting,” Sandranella offered. “Baphomet intervened.” She clenched the stem of her water goblet so tightly, Calladia wondered if it would shatter. “He must have been working with Moloch for some time. Why else would he have agreed to such an extreme punishment?”
“Today’s murder attempt was a bit suspicious as well,” Astaroth said.
“We need to remove him from the council. Him and Moloch both. But how do we do that without leverage?”
Themmie piped up from halfway down the table, where she was sipping on a sickeningly pink milkshake the waitress had sworn contained no blood but lots of sugar. “Make leverage.”
“That’s why we’re trying to recover my memory,” Astaroth said. “Were you even listening?”
“Don’t be a dick,” Calladia said, smacking his arm.
He gave her a half smile. “But I do it so well.”
Themmie stuck out her now–bright pink tongue. “You aren’t thinking big enough. So maybe Astaroth has some kind of leverage on Moloch. Cool. But he can’t remember it, and Moloch’s already making moves, so we need to expand our approach.”
“Our approach?” Mariel asked, looking askance at the pixie. “Are you suddenly on Astaroth’s side, too?”
“No, I’m on the side of justice.” Themmie tucked her green-and-pink hair behind her ears, revealing a scattering of piercings. “However you feel about Astaroth, there are countless other hybrids who might be exiled, oppressed, or killed if Moloch gets his way. That’s worth fighting for.”
“Oh.” Mariel frowned. “Good point.”
“Moloch made a speech the other day,” Sandranella said. “He went to a public square and declared our species has grown weak because we accommodate impure demons. He wants to close the borders and outlaw breeding with humans or other species.”
“Boo,” Lilith said around a mouthful of questionable meat, which she’d ordered along with the werewolves—other than Ben, who was picking at a wilted-looking salad. Blood trickled down her chin. “That’s no fun.”
“He and Tirana have been planting hateful posters around town,” Sandranella continued. “There was a counterprotest from a few hybrids, but it went poorly, and most were thrown in the dungeon for inciting violence.”
Themmie’s dark brown eyes widened. “Whoa, you have a dungeon?”
“What happened to a fair trial?” Mariel asked, looking distressed.
“Being more level-headed, we don’t have as many . . . incidents . . . as humans do,” Sandranella replied. “If an incident is serious enough to require imprisonment, the high council normally presides over a trial.” Sandranella winced. “Moloch wants to skip that though. He’s advocating for banishment or execution of all hybrids.”
Mariel gasped. “That’s awful!”
Themmie slurped noisily on her milkshake. How the pixie could consume so much sugar every day was a mystery, but then again, Calladia didn’t have wings to power. “So,” Themmie said. “We have a wannabe dictator and his violent stooge spreading propaganda and imprisoning the opposition, with plans to kill them. The small group of demons who rule the plane are split between conservatives and liberals, but without Astaroth, they’re leaning conservative, especially since Baphomet is apparently in cahoots with Moloch.”
“Correct,” Sandranella said.
Themmie waved her milkshake wildly enough to slop some on the table. “Astaroth needs to rejoin the high council, but he’ll need to eliminate Moloch first. He theoretically knows how to but has an inconvenient case of amnesia. The plan so far seems to be spinning our wheels while waiting for his memory to return.”
“There’s been more of a plan than that,” Calladia protested. “We went to Isobel to see if she could help.”
“Sure,” Themmie said, “but the goal was all about Astaroth, right? Restore his immortality, heal his brain, get the memories back, defeat Moloch, everyone’s happy. Badda bing, badda boom.”
“Well . . . yes.”
Themmie shook her head. “Dumb plan.”
“With all due indifference,” Sandranella said, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lilith shushed her. “Let the colorful bug speak. I want to hear.” She’d swapped seats with Sandranella and now sat next to Kai, who held a forkful of mystery meat to her lips. When Lilith snapped up the meat faster than a cobra, Kai flinched, then beamed, looking besotted.
Themmie practically radiated sunshine with her vibrant hair and frilly yellow dress. She didn’t look like a master tactician, but Calladia had witnessed her rise as a social media influencer and knew how competent and whip-smart the pixie was.
“A cause needs a movement,” Themmie said. “It isn’t enough to swap Moloch out and sub Astaroth in—there’s still a fundamental issue to be solved. Namely, hybrid rights. You need to sway the minds of the people, build support from the ground up. Otherwise this issue will keep cropping up.”
“I agree,” Calladia said. She looked at Astaroth. “Remember what I told you? Maybe hybrids aren’t just victims. Maybe they can be warriors.”
Themmie snapped her fingers. “Exactly. So we spread word on social media—wait, do demons have social media?”
“Yes,” Oz confirmed. “Or so I hear. I never wasted my time on such puerile activities.”
Mariel practically had hearts in her eyes. “That’s the curmudgeon I know and love.”
Oz returned her adoring look. “As much as I love you, my velina.”
“So,” Themmie continued, “we start a social media campaign.” She pulled out her phone, and her fingers danced over the screen. “I’ll set up a private server for logistics and start recruiting any hybrids I find. We’ll arrange some protests, maybe a march. Ooh, T-shirts!”
“And then what?” Astaroth asked. “Those protestors get thrown in prison, too? I’m sure the matching T-shirts will make up for it.”
Calladia elbowed him in the ribs for the sarcasm.
“Not if there are enough of them,” Themmie said, undeterred. “And not if we can figure out a decent defensive strategy.”
“If that means fighting, count the pack in,” Kai said. The other wolves cheered and pounded their fists on the table.
“I can help with magical defense,” Mariel said. “I’ve always wanted to see the demon plane anyway.”
Oz’s brow furrowed. “It will be dangerous.”
She pecked his cheek. “That’s why you’ll be with me to scare everyone off with your big, frowny face.”
“We also need high-profile allies.” Themmie looked at the two demonesses across the table. “If you would be willing to denounce Moloch’s bigotry and voice support of the hybrid community, it will sway some people.”