I whistled softly to myself to fill the void of uncomfortable silence that stretched around Belial and I as I flipped eggs. I never asked if he liked eggs, whether he wanted eggs or if he could even eat eggs. Were demons fed with an aphrodisiac like some myths claim or do they prey on human blood for their feeding. Did they even need to be fed in the first place? These questions banged around in my head as I flipped my sunny side ups.
My toasts were ready then and I diligently buttered them up before adding eggs to each plate of toast. For my juice, I had a homemade lemonade from fresh lemons that I squeezed myself and I had apple juice from the fridge and bananas I blended myself, all arranged on the table for Belial to have whichever he pleased.
What? You seriously do not think that I
