Amos was still with them. Valentius didn't want him to leave.
He didn't want to feel Wrath take his pleasure from both of them. Didn't want the scorching feeling to return.
"The Black Market," Valentius began as he patted the backpack—the one thing he had from his old life, where he had been just the academy's reject. "I have loot in need of selling."
"And the backpack is a bottomless one," Albert said, more for Marek and Amos than to remind Valentius of long-forgotten lessons. "So, everything is fresh."
"Even the organs?" Marek's smirk was telling. The demon must have known precisely what was in there.
He had been the one person who had been closest to Valentius the entire time.
There for him. Never leaving his side.
Claiming him every time the man felt like it.
Albert wanted to bite the demon's tool off, but decided that he still needed his teeth. Besides, even if he managed, Marek might manage to regrow it.
Like a worm.
