Hell High

by Cindi Madsen

  A hysterical laugh bubbled out of me. “Really? Even in Hell I’ve got to deal with politics that don’t make any sense?”

  “There’s a balance, even in Hell. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you can never be with Tristan.”

  The words slammed into my chest, as painful as a gunshot, and it seemed unfair that I didn’t have the gaping wound or the blood to show the damage that statement had done to me.

  How many times had I told myself it wouldn’t work?

  Yet hearing it aloud made it all too real. I swayed and had to brace myself on the arm of the love seat.

  Dad gripped my shoulders and guided me onto the red velvet cushion. I let him because I didn’t have the strength to fight him, not right now. Then he squatted in my eyeline and placed his hand on my knee. “At least, not in the way you’re talking about,” he quietly said, and I told the hope that flickered inside of me not to get any ideas, but like the rest of my body, it refused to obey.

  “But if he and you both cooperated—if he became a Tempter and you not only took your place as princess, but also agreed to use your training to damn souls, I could arrange for you to go on missions together once a month.” Dad pivoted to sit next to me. “The rest of the time you’d be bound to Abigor, and if he ever found out about your earthly trysts… Well, I’d intervene if I caught him in time, but if he gets to Tristan before I do…”

  “Once a month? I get to be with him once a month, and that’s supposed to be enough to motivate me to stay in Hell forever?”

  “Not just supposed to…” Dad’s dark gaze bored into me. “It is enough. And you’re considering it. It won’t be a bad life for you. Tristan would get perks, too, of course. And Abigor would get what he wants. Everyone wins.”

  “Except Heaven. Oh, and all the souls we drag down here.”

  “I don’t so much care about them.” Dad lifted his chin, and it was clear he thought he’d already won. “Those are your options. Let me know what you decide.”

  After a pat that was probably meant to be consoling but felt more condescending, Dad stood and strode out of the room, leaving me sitting on the love seat, dealing with the rug-pulled-out-from-under-me sensation.

  I couldn’t genuinely be considering giving up my soul to be with Tristan once a month, could I?

  Okay, so maybe I was, the tiniest little bit.

  But being trapped here forever, married to Abigor and tempting people into sinning—how could I say yes to that?

  Then again, it meant helping the guy I was in love with—the one who’d given up so much for me. It meant granting him an easier life here, one he definitely deserved.

  With that in mind, how could I possibly say no?

  Forty-Five

  “I think I found one of the demons who attacked you,” Tristan said, thrusting a book in my face the second I entered his hut. In the upper corner was a picture of a creature with the head of a lion, five goat legs circling it.

  The text underneath the image said that Buer was a commander of 50 legions.

  Buer teaches natural and moral philosophy, logic, and the virtues of herbs and plants. He also heals infirmities.

  “That’s him. In fact…” The vague image of goat legs in a strange room came to me. “I’m pretty sure he healed me after Ms. Bing burned me. I wrote it off as some kind of hallucination, but it all makes sense now. Strange, disturbing sense.”

  “We’re that much closer,” Tristan said, a proud smile curving his delicious lips. He nudged me. “Come on. I stayed up for hours to find this. At least pretend you’re a little bit happy we solved part of the mystery.”

  As I peered into his face, my love for him made my heart swell before it broke all over again. “My dad knows about us,” I blurted out.

  All the humor drained from expression.

  “He wants me to convince you to be a Tempter. If I don’t…” My voice trembled, right along with my knees, and I couldn’t bring myself to finish. I placed my hand on the center of Tristan’s chest and met his worried gaze. “It won’t be so bad for me here. I’ll be a princess, I’ll be” —I fought off a gag as bile coated my throat— “married to Abigor. He’s good-looking, and only like one-hundred percent evil, but he’ll be good to me. We’ll have a little Abigor Junior and name the rest of our demon offspring using as many vowels as possible.”

  Tristan covered the hand I had on his chest and curled it into his. “Don’t even talk like that. You’re not staying here.”

  “Tristan, I can’t let him punish you because of my actions.” My voice broke, my throat already raw from the barrage of emotions I’d been experiencing since last night.

  “Well, I can’t let you stay in Hell because of me. And married to Abigor?” The muscles along Tristan’s jaw tightened, as did his grip on my hand. “I can’t stand thinking of you with him. And I especially can’t stand it when he puts his hands on you.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’d rather have your hands on me. And they could be. All of once a month.” My eyes burned with the tears I was holding back. “I’d be a Temptress, a princess, and an adulteress—talk about hitting the trifecta!”

  Man, I needed to work on my jokes because they weren’t coming out very funny.

  “And the awful truth is,” I whispered as I locked eyes with him, “I’d still do it, just to be with you.”

  Tristan drew me closer, holding me tight as the tears broke free. “You tell your father I’ll never be a Tempter, so he can take his offer and shove it up his ass.”

  That only made me cry harder. “You wouldn’t do it to be with me?”

  “You’re not going to be here. You’ll be on Earth, fighting your way into Heaven, end of story.”

  I jerked out of his grasp. “I can’t believe you’re being so impossible. I want to do this for you. Just let me do it for you.”

  Tristan shook his head. “I made a deal with the devil once. I’m not going to do it again.”

  I swiped my tears off my cheeks. “Fine. I guess this is goodbye, then, because I can’t stand by and watch you be punished because of me.”

  I turned to leave, frustration and anger fueling my steps. But Tristan grabbed my wrist, holding me in place, and holy shit did everything about this situation blow.

  “Let me go,” I said, tugging against him, afraid if I looked at him, I’d fall to the ground and never get up again. “I’m going home.”

  Using his grip on me, Tristan yanked me backward. In one fluid movement, one arm went around my shoulders as his other slid under my legs, and he literally swept me off my feet.

  I strained against him, kicking my legs, not ready to let go of my stubborn storm out. “Let me go, and I swear if you use your calming crap on me, I’ll never talk to you again.”

  His arms only tightened.

  I pushed against his immovable chest, furious at him for not just taking the deal, even though I’d already known he wasn’t going to.

  He set me on the bed and brushed his lips against mine. “If you tell me you don’t want me to kiss you—that you don’t want me anymore—I’ll let you go.”

  “That’s not fair,” I whined, going from half-hearted pushing to pulling him closer. “Of course I want you, but I’m still mad at you.”

  “Okay, be mad at me,” he said, and then he straddled me, forced my lips open with his tongue and kissed me until the world around us spun out of focus.

  I gave in, melting against him and soaking in every moment.

  But this fight was far from over.

  All the next day, I couldn’t decide if I was more irritated or impressed that Tristan wouldn’t budge on the Tempter thing. Whether he liked it or not, I wasn’t going to stand by and let Dad use Tristan against me.

  What’s Tristan going to do? Hold a grudge against me for eternity?

  I paced back and forth across our meeting spot at the top of the hill, getting antsier by the second.

  Finally I heard footsteps and turned to see Tristan jogging up the hill to m
e. “Hey. I can’t stay. I got a notice that I have to report to work.”

  My stomach bottomed out and hit the toes of my pink Vans. “This is him. My father’s punishing me by punishing you.”

  Tristan grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with that. Whenever Hell gets low on power or whatever, we have to work some afternoons. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”

  And I was sure it wasn’t.

  “It’s only a couple hours.” Tristan leaned in and gave me a quick peck. “If you can sneak away later…”

  “I’ll meet you at your place,” I said. He started to pull away, and I grabbed his arm. “Promise me you’ll think about what I said yesterday.”

  “I promise I’ll think about you.” He shot me a smile that both thrilled and infuriated me.

  Damn that boy and his insistence I keep my soul.

  Not wanting to face Dad, I wandered. True, I hadn’t been attacked in a while, but I was playing it safe, keeping my dagger handy. Then I got bored enough to sit down and open the two books Tristan had pressed into my hands last night as I was leaving his place.

  Hmm. Do I start with stories about all the half-demons who’ve failed to stay out of Hell? Or animal demon forms so I can figure out why what’s-his-lion-face has it in for me?

  Talk about lose-lose.

  In the end I chose the animal demon forms. Mostly because I was still pretty sure I was going to stay here to make Tristan’s life easier, even though he’d be furious at me for doing it.

  After reading for an hour, my money was on Merihim being behind the attacks. He’d always hated me, and he was the Prince of Pestilence. If anyone had a giant rat that could turn into a half man at his disposal, it would be him.

  I thought back to dinner on my first night here, trying to remember if Merihim seemed suspicious. Let’s see. Oh, that’s right. Looking into his eyes always freaks me out, so I stared at the silver buttons on his suit instead.

  Good going, Lily. Guess I won’t be taking up detective work as my day job.

  But there was something else ticking my memory, something I knew was important. I flipped back to the information on Buer. He’d healed me, I was sure of it. I closed my eyes and traveled back to that night in my mind.

  Wisps of memories came back to me. The goat legs, seeing my burned and blistered arm. During my pain-induced daze, Ms. Bing and Buer had a whispered conversation.

  I pushed past the block in my mind, slowly going over every minor detail, and then I remembered what I’d overheard. He’s been waiting for centuries for an opportunity like this.

  Okay, so whoever was after me was a he, and he’d been here for centuries. And that narrowed it down… not one helluva lot. I glanced at my watch. Well, at least it was time to go meet Tristan.

  And today I wasn’t going to let him distract me with all the kissing.

  My lips tingled as I remembered the way he’d kissed me last night, as if he was worshipping my mouth with his.

  Maybe just a few minutes of distracting. And then maybe I’ll try out my seducing skills. If I’m going to lose my soul, I might as well go out with a bang.

  Forty-Six

  Just thinking about trying to seduce Tristan made my cheeks burn. I’d probably end up making a fool of myself, and while I liked people to laugh at my jokes, I wasn’t such a fan of being laughed at.

  I’m never going to pull it off.

  Great. I couldn’t pull off not being evil, and I couldn’t pull off being evil enough to seduce my boyfriend. Maybe I should’ve paid better attention in Persuasion class.

  As I approached the huts, I kept low.

  A group of people walked by, and I flattened myself against a tree. None of them looked tired or smudged in black like they usually did when they came from working, and a prickling sense of foreboding crept up my spine.

  It took eons for the group to hike their slow butts up the hill. Finally the coast was clear, and I quickly ducked inside Tristan’s hut.

  He was lying on the bed, facing the wall. Bloody slashes covered his bare back. For a moment I could only stare, frozen in horrified shock.

  The I forced one foot in front of the other and gently put a hand on his shoulder. “Tristan.”

  His muscles tensed, but he kept his face toward the wall. “It’s not that bad.”

  I clenched my fists, the angry heat coursing through me making the temperature outside feel downright cold in comparison. “Who did that to you? I mean, I know it’s my dad’s fault, but who actually…? That’s from a whip, right?”

  Tristan sighed. “It was just the taskmaster. I was the only one out there, and apparently I wasn’t working hard enough. Really, Lily, it happens to everyone now and then.”

  Just the taskmaster? The one with six arms and whips, no doubt.

  The gashes crisscrossed Tristan’s back, gaping stripes that stretched apart with every miniscule movement he made.

  A lump formed in my throat, and my hands trembled. “Hold still. I’m going to see what I can do.” I hovered my hands over his wounds. “At least once in a while my extra skills come in handy.”

  He sat up, then winced. “Just leave it alone.”

  “But I can help.”

  “I don’t want you to.” His harsh words echoed through the room.

  I bit my lip, doing my best to choke back my tears—I didn’t deserve to cry, not when I was the reason he’d ended up hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” Tristan said, and pain flickered across his features as he took my hand. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

  “Well, that’s too damn bad. I’m not leaving, and your cuts need serious medical attention. At least let me help with that. Especially since it’s my fault that you have them.”

  My determination grew and hardened. I didn’t wait for him to give me permission. Using the lightest pressure possible, I placed my hands on his back, squeezed my eyes closed, and focused my energy, telling the lacerations to close.

  Power surged down my arms, slowly draining from me.

  But nothing happened to the cuts.

  “It…it didn’t work. I’m going to have to go get some more power. I’m sure there’s an evil soul that deserves to be—”

  “It won’t work on me,” Tristan said. “Same blocking issue as your other influence, I guess.”

  Defeated and on the verge of a full-on nervous breakdown, I brought his hand to my lips and kissed his knuckles. “What can I do?”

  “Distract me,” he said.

  I leaned over him and kissed his lips. I raked my hand through his hair as I deepened the kiss, wishing it could take his pain away.

  But every time I moved, he flinched, tiny grunts that punctuated the quiet and broke my heart one piece at a time.

  A quick glance around the room and I found what I was searching for. I slowly pushed off the bed and picked up the rat guitar from its spot in the corner. “Tell you what, I’ll distract you with my awful playing instead.”

  My fingers ran over the strings, clumsy and awkward, but the low notes filled the room. Tristan rolled onto his stomach on the mattress, angry red cuts up, face pale, a sheen of sweat breaking out across his forehead.

  I sat there, doing my best to look serene and innocent as I played him to sleep.

  In my mind, though, I was plotting revenge. I didn’t know how I was going to pull it off, but I was going to find a way to fix what had been done to Tristan.

  And someone was going to pay.

  Of all the ideas I’d ever had, this was for sure the dumbest. I grabbed a sword, put it in the scabbard I’d found in the weapons room, and walked back toward the front door of the castle.

  “Where are you going?” Dad asked.

  Not slowing down or acknowledging the bastard, I reached for the doorknob.

  Dad snapped his fingers, and a bar shot over the door, locking me in. “I warned you what would happen. You made your choice.”

  I spun around, letting my rage fuel me, the
way it had since I’d left Tristan’s hut. “Like you ever really gave me a choice. You’re such a coward, taking out your threats on my boyfriend, hurting him to hurt me. What do you want to hear, that it worked?”

  My hand automatically went to the hilt of the sword as I stepped toward him. “That you hurt your own daughter worse than anyone ever has, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again? Is that what you wanted? To break me?”

  My words came out shrill, and the fact that my dad was obviously taken aback only made me push harder. I clenched my jaw so hard I thought I might shatter my teeth. “Well, I’m broken, and I have made a choice. Now you need to unlock the door so I can go follow through.”

  “You think I’m going to let you walk out of here with a sword?” Dad asked. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  The laugh that came out of me was caustic, the kind of scathing noise I didn’t even know I was capable of till now. “Safe? Don’t worry about me. I’ll slaughter any idiot stupid enough to get in my way right now. You wanted to see just how evil I could be, well congrats. You got your wish.”

  Summoning every ounce of power I had, I pivoted on my heel and slammed my palm against the door, commanding it to get out of my way.

  The wood groaned and then cracked in half, splinters flying through the air and spattering my skin. Half the door fell to the ground, the heavy sound echoing through the foyer.

  I ducked under the metal bar Dad had placed in my way and walked out of the hole in the door, not bothering to look back to see how shocked or angry or proud my father was.

  About fifteen minutes later I pulled up in front of Ms. Bing’s house. Before I’d headed into the weapons room, I’d searched up her profile, gotten her address—third Victorian on the left after the Tempter Training Manor—and taken Dad’s dragon-drawn carriage for a spin.

  “Ike, Spike, I’ll be right back,” I said to the two dragons, who were already responding to their new names. The three of us were going to get nice and cozy tonight, so I figured I should have something to call them.