A demon… Zaroth knew a demon. Or rather, it wasn't wrong to say one of his lovers was one—a vampire—who had, in turn, turned part of him into one as well.
But demons weren't a singular race.
Some were deadly, intelligent and wise like Midnight and her vampire's kind. She was one of the few demons he had ever seen with his own two eyes.
In theory, their kind and humans could form a truce—no killing, no fighting. They didn't have to like each other. They could even hate one another with every fiber of their being. But with enough intellect, both sides could agree that mutual destruction was pointless—and far too costly to pursue.
It was a hopeful dream, perhaps. But even a madman is allowed to dream.
Sadly, however, not all demons were like the vampires.
Or more accurately to say that few matched their intelligence.
Zaroth had learned about the wild ones back at the academy. What he now saw before him confirmed every warning the professors had ever given.
