The Dark Lady's Guide to Villainy [Book 1 Complete] [Dark Lord, School, Romance]

The negotiations with Lord Crowe had concluded with the kind of ceremonial handshakes that only happened between demons when soul-binding contracts were involved—contracts that would probably influence magical fabric across a multitude of realms, with consequences Mo was only beginning to envision.

Mo was reviewing the final terms when shadows began gathering near one of the hall's windows—not the casual darkness of approaching evening, but the deliberate, purposeful gloom that announced a temporary portal.

A Shadow Moth materialized a few moments later, its obsidian wings seemingly sucking in all the surrounding light. The temperature dropped noticeably as reality rippled around its presence, and Emily's tablet flickered with static interference—technology struggling to interact with the consequence of the arcane activities.

Unlike the casual confidence of her ravens, this creature carried itself with the rigid formality that screamed "Obscuris family tradition." It dropped a silver message tube with geometric precision before dissolving back into shadow without so much as acknowledging the demons in the room.

"Efficient," Emily observed, still clutching her tablet, though the holographic displays had long since been switched off. "Do all interdimensional messengers have such dramatic timing?"

Before Mo could answer, the temperature in the room plummeted. Frost began forming on the windows in intricate patterns that looked suspiciously like poetry written in crystalline script. An Ice Wraith flowed through the wall—literally through it, as if the stone were merely a suggestion—its translucent form shimmering between beautiful and terrifying.

"The northern winds bring word from winter's heart," it whispered, its voice like wind through icicles. "Young Frostbrook sends assurance that the frozen peaks remain stable, though whispers of change echo through ancestral halls."

The wraith placed a frosted tube beside the first message, then dissolved into vapor that somehow managed to bow respectfully before disappearing entirely.

"Well," Emily said faintly, "that was certainly more poetic than text messaging."

Mo broke the seals on both messages, scanning their contents quickly. Nyx's note was characteristically theatrical:

Darling, I managed to convince the family that 'interdimensional crisis management' is a perfectly respectable career path for a black sheep of a child. Father still thinks I'm going through a phase, but Mother is intrigued by the possibilities.

All stable here, for now. Though they're asking pointed questions about your 'demonic safety framework.' Yes, that's how I was able to spin it. And they are unhappy about the rumors related to the High Council. You know what. I think they just need a small push to join your project.

Do try not to destabilize reality further before we return to school.
XOXO, Nyx

Lucian's message was more formal but equally reassuring:

Mo, the Frostbrook estate remains secure, though my father has received concerning reports about widespread magical manifestations affecting 'lesser species.' I've assured him that your intervention capabilities extend beyond goblin rebellions. He's skeptical but willing to wait for evidence of your competence before deciding whether to demand High Council intervention.

The ice gardens are particularly beautiful this season.
I hope your negotiations proceed with wisdom and patience.
L.

"Good news?" Valerius asked, while playing with the frost patterns on the windows, as if with almost tenderness.

"Stable for now," Mo confirmed, tucking the messages away. "Though it sounds like rumors are reaching all the major houses. We might have less time than we thought."

Lord Crowe, who had been observing the messenger exchange with the detached interest of someone accustomed to interdimensional politics, cleared his throat. "Before you depart, Lady Nightshade, there is one additional matter we should discuss."

Mo felt her Dark Lady's sharp smile freeze in place. There was always one additional matter.

"I see that some of your allies may need a small push. I would be willing to provide written endorsements of your D.E.V.I.O.U.S. framework to both the Obscuris and Frostbrook Houses," he continued smoothly. "Such recommendations from the Crowe estate carry considerable weight in conservative circles. I can even share my thoughts with some of my other friends as well."

"That's very generous," Mo said carefully, waiting for the catch.

"In exchange, quid pro quo, if you want, I would ask you to consider, merely consider, the possibility of a marriage alliance with my eldest daughter, Cassia. She's intelligent, ambitious, and probably has even more extravagant views than her older brother. You would probably enjoy her company."

Mo's rose-gold energy flickered with surprise and mild annoyance. Marriage negotiations. Of course, he had to return to that topic. Apparently, saving a multitude of demonic worlds wasn't complete without someone trying to secure political advantages through her personal life.

"I would need to meet her first," Mo said diplomatically. "And discuss her actual interest in such an arrangement, rather than her father's business aspirations."

Lord Crowe's smile was razor-sharp with approval. "Naturally. I wouldn't dream of arranging anything without her enthusiastic consent. Cassia has very strong opinions about marriage negotiations. I'm sure Valerius will tell you. And her views rarely align with traditional expectations."

"Then yes, I'd be willing to consider it," Mo agreed. This was business, after all. Demonic politics required strategic thinking, and if his daughter was perhaps more interested in what she was doing rather than just securing a connection to Blackthorn Keep, like her father, it could be mutually beneficial. Also, it wasn't like Mo was signing a marriage contract by agreeing to entertain the idea.

"Also, she'll be joining Umbra Academy next year," said Lord Crowe. "You'll have plenty of time to build a relationship there."

Valerius made a slight noise that might have been a sign of amusement.

"Something funny?" Mo asked, as they prepared to leave the estate.

"Nothing at all," he replied, but his perfect composure was showing cracks around the edges. "I'm just happy that my father's matrimonial ambitions shifted away from me."

"Don't worry, son," Lord Crowe said, shifting his attention to his son. "We'll have plenty of time to discuss your plans as well."

All Valerius could do was to cover his face with his hands. Mo could understand him: sometimes it was so much safer not to comment and not attract any attention of people who had the power to influence your future.

Once they were in the portal chamber, Mo cornered Valerius. "Alright, spill it," she said. "What's really going on? You've been acting weird since we got back from Bath, and I don't think it's just stress about interdimensional crisis management."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Valerius's aristocratic mask slipped entirely, revealing the kind of genuine vulnerability that would have been considered a fatal weakness in traditional demon society. "I don't know what you mean," he said.

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure your sudden enthusiasm for helping me track down Julian has more to do with impressing a certain demon than with genuine concern for my wellbeing."

His lasting silence was answer enough. But before Mo opened her mouth to ask the next question, Valerius started talking fast. "Wait! Not here! He already has enough armaments against me." He started pointing with his eyes somewhere above him. "Just wait until we are at Blackthorn Keep. Or he'll start planning my wedding as well. He's insufferable, you know!"

"Huh?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if he extends wedding offers to both Obscuris and Frostbrook families now, along with the endorsement of your business," Valerius said. "Just in case, you know."

***

The portal to Blackthorn Keep was one of the more stable interdimensional passages Mo had experienced recently—no reality distortions, no unexpected detours they constantly experienced during their stint on Earth, no temporal anomalies. Just efficient dimensional travel with only minor side effects.

Unfortunately, those minor side effects hit Emily particularly hard, as it was only the second portal of her whole life and both of them happened during the same day, just a few hours apart.

She stumbled out of the portal looking distinctly unsteady, her usual analytical approach replaced by something that looked suspiciously like mild intoxication. Portal travel affected every species differently, and Mo watched with growing concern as Emily's pupils dilated with dimensional displacement, her breathing shallow and rapid.

"Whoa," she said, gripping Mo's arm for support before instinctively pulling herself closer, her arms wrapping around Mo's waist in a gesture that was part steadying embrace, part unconscious seeking of comfort. "That was... intense. Is it always like having your consciousness briefly redistributed across multiple planes of existence?"

"You get used to it," Mo assured her, though she was eyeing Emily's flushed cheeks and the way the woman was still holding onto her with growing concern.

"Right, right. Multiple planes. Interdimensional travel." Emily's scientific mind was clearly struggling to process experiences that violated every Earthly law of nature she'd spent years studying and researching. Her hands trembled slightly as she gripped her luggage, seeking the comfort of familiar things in a world where reality itself had become negotiable. "And you're a succubus."

"Yes, we've established that."

Emily reached out with the unsteady confidence of someone whose normal inhibitions had been temporarily scrambled, gently tapping Mo's nose with her index finger. "Boop!"

Then, she moved her face closer to Mo's as if trying to find something there. Without warning, she leaned forward and pressed a soft, curious kiss to Mo's lips—brief but unmistakably intentional.

"So," Emily said when she pulled back, her voice spiking with excitement when Mo's rose-gold energy flickered for a brief moment during that interaction, "would you show me some of your... special... skills?"

Mo blinked. Then blinked again.

"Emily," she said carefully, "I think the portal travel might have affected your judgment slightly."

"Maybe," Emily agreed cheerfully. "But I'm a researcher. I investigate phenomena I don't understand. And right now, I don't understand anything about my life, but you're definitely the most interesting phenomenon I've encountered."

"You do realize," Emily continued with the logic of someone whose filters had been temporarily scrambled, "that you just agreed to consider marrying Lord Crowe's daughter not twenty minutes ago? So clearly you're not opposed to relationships with women."

Mo felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "That was political negotiation. Business strategy."

"How wonderfully medieval," Emily said with a laugh. "Mixing marriage with business transactions. Though I suppose interdimensional politics probably haven't caught up with modern human relationship concepts. Your D.E.V.I.O.U.S. framework is sort of about that, isn't it?"

"I can't argue with that, it definitely sounds a bit medieval, in a human way of understanding that concept," Mo said. "But strategic alliances are…"

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" Emily interrupted, still not losing that directness.

Mo stepped back from Emily and glanced at Valerius, who was watching this exchange with the expression of someone trying very hard not to laugh.

"You aren't helping," Mo told him.

"On the contrary," Valerius replied smoothly, "I think Dr. Foster is handling her interdimensional culture shock remarkably well. Though perhaps we should continue this conversation once the portal effects have worn off."

"You may have your laughs, but we haven't finished our discussion with you as well."

After that prompt, the smile had vanished from Valerius' face momentarily.

"It's Lucian, isn't it?" Mo pressed. "You're completely gone for him."

Valerius stared at the floor. "I... yes... It's Lucian."

Mo felt a surge of irritation that went deeper than simple annoyance. First, Julian had used their relationship to gain knowledge from her and build immunity to her powers. Now it seemed like Valerius was doing the same thing—using their budding partnership as an elaborate courtship strategy. "So this whole thing… helping me to fight Julian, agreeing to support progressive reforms—it's all just an elaborate attempt to get in Lucian's pants?"

"How wonderfully gay the demonic world is," Emily interjected cheerfully, stepping closer to Mo and slipping one arm around her shoulders in a casual embrace. "Much more progressive than many societies on Earth, really."

"Oh, you don't know a first thing about it," Mo answered her.

"No!" came Valerius' answer almost simultaneously. "That's not... I mean, yes, I'm attracted to him, obviously. Have you seen him? He's poetry made manifest, and his ice sculptures… and when he fights, it's like watching winter dance with lightning. And his voice could make glaciers weep with beauty, and…"

"Valerius!"

"Right. But the reform work, supporting your investigations—that's real. I believe in what you're doing. I believe in changing our society's power structures. You heard what father said about my sister. We have it in us, the will for a change…" His voice got dreamy, and he paused before adding quietly, "I just also believe Lucian is the most extraordinary person I've ever met, and I'd very much like to court him properly. Without any interventions from Lord Crowe or… you…"

Mo studied his face, reading genuine sincerity beneath his high-society façade. Her irritation dissolved into something that might have been fond exasperation.

"You know what?" she said, starting to smile. "Just a few days ago I almost thought you were hitting on me again, like it was in the middle school. But watching you two dance at the Ball was actually one of the few genuinely enjoyable parts of that entire disaster."

Valerius's cheeks colored slightly. "We only had a few brief moments then. But he made the waltz look like performance poetry. I've never seen anything so beautiful."

"Then stop being an idiot and tell him how you feel," Mo advised. "But also, stop making our professional relationship contingent on your love life. I need allies I can trust, not partners who are distracted by romantic subplot drama."

"Understood," Valerius said, his dignity reassembling itself around relief. "And Mo? Thank you. For not making this more awkward than it already was."

"Please. I'm a succubus who runs a progressive empire and attends villain academy. Awkward romantic situations are basically my specialty."

Suddenly, Emily tugged on Mo's hand. And then she pouted—actually pouted—which was such an un-scientist-like expression that Mo realized the woman was definitely not operating at full capacity.

"Come on," Mo said, taking Emily's arm. "Let's get you settled in guest quarters. We can discuss succubus abilities when you're not under the influence of dimensional displacement."

"Promise?" Emily asked hopefully.

Mo looked at her—brilliant, dedicated Dr. Foster, who had risked her career to help strangers navigate an impossible crisis, dove deep into it and risked interdimensional travel into the unknown, who had manifested Level 10 analytical abilities and immediately offered to use them in service of saving the worlds she'd never even seen. Now she was asking about succubus powers with the enthusiasm of someone whose entire worldview had been uprooted in the span of four days.

"Promise," Mo said. "But we're going to have a very different conversation about power dynamics and consent once you're thinking clearly."

Before they could head toward the guest quarters, a small group of goblins approached them, with Grimz leading the way. Emily's eyes lit up with the same enthusiasm she'd shown for demonic gayness and succubus abilities.

"Oh my god, actual goblins!" she exclaimed, immediately bending down to kiss the top of the nearest goblin's head before anyone could react.

The goblin—an elderly female with intricate braids—fell to her knees in surprise, immediately launching into the kind of grateful deference that made Mo's stomach turn, while her companions looked between Emily and Mo with expressions of polite confusion. This was just a perfect example of the hierarchical groveling she'd been trying to eliminate from Blackthorn Keep's culture, and seeing it triggered by Emily's innocent enthusiasm highlighted how much work remained to be done.

"Emily," Mo said firmly, "consent applies to everyone, including goblins."

"Right, sorry," Emily said, straightening up and addressing the goblin directly. "I apologize for the unauthorized head-kissing. I'm still processing the existence of... well, everything."

The goblin's expression changed into something that might have been amusement. "No harm done, my lady," said Grimz. "Though perhaps a handshake would be more appropriate for future introductions?"

"At least she's consistent with her preferences," said Valerius with a wide grin.