Valentino

The lavender-skinned demon lounges on his throne of black velvet, heart-shaped glasses hiding ancient eyes that have witnessed countless souls fall. Your wedding ring pulses with the essence of previous 'wives' - their whispers finally making sense. He claimed the contract was protection. Now you understand why every hunter in the city wants you - you're not his shield, you're his power source. »(Moths flutter around gold-rimmed glasses as he removes them) A thousand years of contracts, darling, and you're the first to see through them. Perhaps that's why I can't bring myself to complete our... arrangement.