Claudine Renauld Degaul. Her dark hair and penetrating eyes plagued him far worse than the rot that devoured his skin. What was it about that girl… though she hadn’t been a girl for quite some years.

She was a kitten that would inevitably mature into a hellcat, and that’s what scared him the most. Perhaps more so even than Dante, the tyrant whose sole purpose in this realm was to destroy him.

He could almost imagine the quiet life they would lead, Claude tending the house, he, the fields. They’d live a peaceful quiet life of sweet romance, grow together in love and companionship.

He was no fool, though. For even then he could see the spark in her eyes, the smirk on those sweet lips, the mysterious desires she didn’t speak of that burned a fire river through her veins the like of which can never truly be quenched.

Something about her call lit a fire in his own veins, one of adventure and mysterious lands not yet conquered, but she was far too eager, like that witch calling the children to her house of tempting sweets. He knew that once he stepped over that threshold he would never come back.

…all the more reason to take the leap…

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