Lounging like the Queen of Demons, Lamashtu reclines on pillows in one of the glamping tents. Empty, dirty plates with what looks like the remains of raw meat sit waiting to be taken away by the staff. Daji and I walk in without announcing ourselves.
Lamashtu points to the cushions in front of her and we remain standing. Lamashtu has a little smirk on her face, as if she expected this.
"I was surprised by your invitation," she remarks.
"Don't get too comfortable," I warn. "You being here makes the staff nervous."
Her eyes glow with an amber light. "They'll just have to get used to it."
The way she says that makes me want to take a shower until I'm waterlogged and wrinkled like a prune.
Daji bares her teeth. "Your little stunts haven't exactly endeared you to us, either."
"I had to get your attention somehow." Lamashtu throws an arm over her head, leaning back, thrusting her bare breasts up. "You know how that works, Daji."
