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Heat rose in Colette's cheeks when she remembered accidentally discovering her mother — only days after the funeral — coupling with one of the Barons who had arrived to pay his respects. It was shortly thereafter when Tharsas had begun to lock himself away in his room, leaving Colette without the pleasure of his company.Turning into the bath room, Colette closed the door behind her, failing to notice that it had not latched, as thoughts of her conversation with Tharsas intruded upon her dark musings — a welcome distraction. She remembered his smile vividly, and could still feel his cheek under her hand where she had touched him before leaving.A tingle between her legs caused her to shiver as she thought about Tharsas. She stiffened, frightened by her body reacting so improperly to thoughts of her brother. The feeling refused to go away, however, no matter how hard she tried to turn her thoughts to other things. As she undressed, she discovered the reason why. Dark ruddy spots revealed. The Demon Slayer. Of course, being one of Mark's children didn't make me that special. He was a lusty God, and had sowed his seeds in many fields far and wide. Only his children born to his Goddess and the Holy Sluts were publicly acknowledged by the God. Still, being his daughter gave me a few advantages. I didn't know my mother. She died when I was six months old. She was one of many slain when the Demon Dagon conquered Washington D.C. I survived somehow, and was placed into a Theocracy run orphanage. I knew her name: Donna Fritz. That was it. When I was five, my DNA was tested. I was the daughter of a God. When I was six, I was enrolled at Belleramine Academy. I was given the finest education. At the age of fourteen, I was given the choice of graduating and taking the assessment test to discover what role in society the Gods needed me to fill, or I could be trained as a slave for the next two years. I had envied the older girls who were being trained as slaves. They looked so.
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