Damned if I do (the Damned Trilogy Book 1)

by Elizabeth Stevens

With one hand flourish, the dinner things were cleared away and there was a brandy balloon in front of the two of us. He picked his up and a cigar appeared in his other hand as he brought it to his lips, the tip burning bright as he inhaled. Esther disappeared, knowing she wasn’t required and not wanting to be around my father longer than necessary.

  “She’s fun,” Dad said slowly around the cigar, smoke billowing from his mouth. “I don’t know if I should congratulate your choice of wife, or rebuke it.”

  I sighed as I downed the brandy in one gulp. Then again as the glass refilled itself automatically. “It seemed a good idea at the time.”

  “You thought it would be easier,” he chided softly, as fatherly as he ever got.

  I downed my glass again. “I did.”

  “It may yet come right.”

  “It might blow up in my face.”

  Through the smoke amassing around his face, all I could see was his devilish grin and the red glow of his eyes. “Either way, we ought to have a little fun.”

  “Easy for you to say,” I muttered.

  We sat in a semi-companionable semi-silence for the space of a few more drinks before I got up and went to see if my wife had calmed down.

  Wren

  I wasn’t in Hell; I was in a madhouse. Had to be. No other sensible explanation.

  Except the ridiculously incessant heat.

  And the very realistic wails of the tortured constantly ringing in my ears like background noise at that point.

  And the actual devil who’d managed to scare the pants off me just being in the same room as him even when he was being all…him.

  And the devil’s wife who would be the thing haunting my nightmares for the rest of my life.

  Aside from that, and the very real feeling I had about everything, I could hardly believe I was in actual Hell. The devil was…flamboyant? That was the best word I had for it. He was flamboyant and extravagant, all at once amazing, ridiculous and terrifying. I couldn’t get my head around it. But as antithetical as it seemed, that was the main reason I knew I wasn’t mad; my brain never would have made up that sort of devil. It would just have been fire and death and fear.

  While I’d been pretty scared since I arrived, I was mainly pissed off. The heat wasn’t helping me keep a cool head, but mainly it was Drake. Being someone’s wife was one thing – a weird thing, true – but having to sleep with him before I could go home? No.

  I wasn’t going to be having sex with him. Ever.

  So, my only other choice was to settle in for the foreseeable future and make myself at home. Which I did as best as I was able, all while Drake and I ignored each other like we were arguing ten-year-olds. He slept beside me, but other than that we spent no time together past as long as it took him to get into bed and get back out again.

  “Truman?” I asked the devilbum about a week later as he tidied up around me.

  “Yes, ma’am? Can I get you another book? Perhaps a snack?”

  I shook my head with a smile. “No, thanks. I was just wondering if I could ask you a question.”

  “Anything, ma’am. We are here at your service.”

  Well, that was certainly true of Truman. Kyle and Ignacio though? Ignacio was barely visible, choosing to go stalking after Drake all day like he was a simulacrum of Drake’s mood. And Kyle spent most of his time curled up, sleeping on the ottoman next to my feet, like some deformed yet still super adorable cat, while I read. Truman though was almost human in his behaviour and he was still a calming, comforting presence in my life. I felt like I could talk to him and he wouldn’t think me stupid or idiotic or judge me.

  “The whole time difference thing. How does it work?”

  “How do you mean, ma’am?”

  “Well, Drake mentioned time passes differently here…?”

  Truman nodded. “It does.”

  “How?”

  “Well, the opposite of Faery.”

  I blinked. “Of what?”

  “Faery. Where the fae live.”

  “I… Obviously.” I cleared my throat, putting a pin in that tangent. “But how does it work?”

  “Time here moves faster than it does on Earth. So, you could experience many hundreds of years in the same time your family experience two days.”

  I swallowed. “Hundreds of years?”

  He nodded. “Indeed, ma’am.”

  “And Drake’s been here for…twelve years…”

  “Millenia by our count, ma’am.”

  “But he stopped aging then?”

  “Of course, ma’am.” Truman chuckled. “Master Drake’s immortal.”

  “But what about me?”

  Truman looked at me. “You won’t age while you’re here, ma’am.”

  “Why not?”

  Truman shuffled his feet a bit like he was uncomfortable. “You are…of age, ma’am. Biologically, there is no reason for you to age any more. Thus, you are…frozen, as it were.”

  I fanned myself. “God, if only,” I laughed. “How serious is…Drake’s dad about me not going home until we’ve had sex?”

  “Deadly, ma’am. If you’ll forgive the term. But his lordship is nothing if not stubborn. One of the many things Master Drake inherited from his father.”

  I sat back in the chair again and sighed, thinking.

  If time moved that much differently, then I didn’t have anything to worry about in terms of missing time on Earth. I could hold up the sex-embargo until…well, almost the end of time. All I had to do was wear down Drake’s patience. Once he decided I wasn’t worth it, he’d take me home and find another wife. It wasn’t going to be that difficult to find someone to sleep with him.

  I’d thought about it.

  Boy, had I thought about it.

  I’d thought about it when I thought he was just a slightly over-eager if not creeper neighbour. Now that we were sharing a room? My imagination went into overdrive regularly. The fact I knew it was expected only made it worse. I asked myself so many times why I bothered resisting, because there was a part of me who would be very unopposed to sleeping with him. There was no down side really; sleep with him, probably have an amazing time, then go home. So why was I resisting?

  I heard the door open and quickly pulled my book in front of my face.

  “How was your day, sir?” Truman asked.

  Drake grunted in reply.

  “That well, sir? Excellent news. Do you want to shower, or–”

  I snuck a look over the top of my book as Truman stopped speaking and saw Drake had pulled his top off. He was standing in nothing but his jeans and sneakers. His back muscles shifted under his glistening skin as he stretched and breathed out heavily. And that was enough to have me drooling, but when he turned around?

  His body tapered to a sinful V, disappearing under the waistband of his pants. He was made out of rock-hard abs and strong arms, and my eyes always darted to the front of his jeans, sure I could make out the outline of his package. He looked barely a day over eighteen, but that body made me believe he’d been working on it for centuries.

  It’s not like I hadn’t seen it all already. But every time was like the first time.

  My eyes slid up and I saw him watching me. Talk about sinful.

  If the previous week had made me believe anything, it was that Drake was Satan’s son, because the boy was made for sin. It was like his natural default. Sin or anger. There was no in between.

  “Are you reconsidering?” he asked me, his voice was low and rumbly, and made my stomach do funny things.

  “No. I’m not,” I told him in a huff as I forced my eyes back onto my book.

  “How unfortunate. We won’t have an excuse for being late then.”

  I looked up. “Late?”

  He nodded as he unabashedly pulled his jeans off, leaving him naked. He stayed facing me long enough to give me plenty to ogle, obviously very proud when I didn’t look away. It was partly a point of my own pride
. It was also just because I liked the view. His arse was just as nice to ogle.

  “Dad’s decided on a party.”

  “A party?”

  “Has a single week in Hell rendered you simple?” he huffed, moving through to the bathroom I was sure was only there for my benefit.

  I looked at Truman for a moment, debating the sense in following him to continue the conversation. Truman gave me a look that quite clearly told me I had to make my own decisions.

  “Yes. Well, we’ve seen where that gets me,” I muttered testily as I dropped the book and hopped up anyway.

  Drake was in the shower, which I was pretty sure was also only for my benefit. It was such a perfect set up that I suspected someone was using their powers. The steam swirled up around his legs and lower body, embracing him and making the scene sexy by what it hid as much as the glimpses it showed.

  “I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” I told him.

  “I can see that.”

  He looked at me over his shoulder, those blue eyes smouldering as they traced over my body. Warmth spread across my skin like a caress and I didn’t know if he was doing that or if I was doing it all by myself. In the privacy of my mind, I let myself revel in the feeling of being wanted, of being desired, of what his desire did to me. But in the public of my face, I frowned.

  “I meant my head’s fine.”

  “You’ve just wanted to be a parrot since you were a little girl?”

  I leant against the door frame and frowned harder. “Very funny.”

  “I seem to remember you wanting to be a mermaid.”

  I pushed myself off the door and stomped closer to him, not sure what I was going to do but there I was. “I’m terribly sorry so much of this is incredibly confusing to me, Drake. I’ll just magically know everything like you do and then you won’t even have to talk to me, shall I?”

  The corner of his lip tipped up as he stepped to stand right in front of me. “You join me and we certainly won’t have to talk.”

  I pushed him in the chest and he obligingly took a couple of steps backwards even though I never would have had the strength to move him if he hadn’t wanted me to. I ignored how warm and soft his skin had felt. To very little success. “I’m not joining you.”

  “You just wanted an excuse to look a little longer?”

  “I wanted to know what you meant about your dad’s party!” I cried, very close to losing my dignity, my sanity, and my clothes. I took a step back. “And if there was more to why you wanted an excuse to be late.”

  “Getting you in bed not a good enough excuse for you?” he asked, frowning at me.

  “I’ve been here a week. I’ve noticed things–”

  “Oh, yeah?” he interrupted me, turning the taps off. “What do you think you’ve noticed, human?”

  I wasn’t going to lose my bluster in front of him. If I was going to survive this, I had to stay strong. “It doesn’t take a genius to work out you and your dad don’t get on. Something tells me you’d be happy with any excuse to avoid a party of his.”

  His eyes raked over me, a red glow burning in the depths of them, but not quite taking over yet. “Are you offering me an excuse?” his voice had a hint of growly to it. I just couldn’t tell if lust or anger was taking him over this time.

  I shook myself out as I nodded. “Maybe.”

  He took enough slow steps towards me to be standing right in front of me again. “One night – or day – in my bed and you can go home,” he purred, the red getting stronger in his eyes.

  I was very tempted. I was so very tempted. I blinked as much to break the intense eye contact as to clear my head of everything that was him. “Not going to happen.” Even I wasn’t convinced by my tone.

  He wrapped his arm around me and pulled my body against his. He smelled like a seductive smoke, it was musky and woody with a touch of sweetness like a rich honey. I could feel every muscled ridge, every hardness up against my body. He was taller than me, but he held me so tightly my feet were barely on the floor and my lips weren’t that far away from his. Those eyes, pure red now were mesmerising and the ghost of a smirk at his lips made goose bumps break out over my skin. I was hot. It was a good hot, a bad hot, and an amazing hot. My breath was coming a little shallower than I wanted and I knew he’d be able to feel my heart racing in my chest.

  “There’s no weakness in giving in,” he whispered, his lips getting closer to mine.

  I was reaching up just as slowly as he was leaning down.

  My hand slid up his chest but, before it snaked around his neck, I stopped it and pushed against him. He let me go and I dropped my face for good measure.

  “You want to avoid your dad’s party? I don’t want to go. Tell him we’re doing whatever you want, but you could stay here with me?” I raised my eyes and found him looking at me weirdly.

  He said nothing. Just looked me over with just as much heat in his still red eyes. Finally, he asked, “And what do you think we’re going to do?”

  “Talk? Sit in silence? Play chess?”

  “I don’t do talking.”

  “Then tell him you’re banging me senseless and we’ll sit in silence,” I huffed.

  “I can’t lie.”

  I sighed loudly. “Then, whatever. I’m just trying to help, Drake.”

  “Why would you even want to talk to me?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m stuck here with you and figure I may as well get to know a bit more about you.”

  He licked his lip slowly and I followed the movement like a desperate weirdo. “I don’t have to lie to make my father assume what I want him to. I’ll make our excuses.”

  He grabbed a towel, throwing it around his waist, and headed back into our room.

  “Ignacio, go and tell my father we will not be at his party.”

  “What shall I tell him, boss?” I heard Ignacio growl.

  “Tell whatever you need to so he thinks Wren and I are busy. Sexually.”

  I walked out of the bathroom to see Ignacio nod. He spared a look at me, then was gone. Kyle was sitting in the chair I’d been in and was reading my book. Or at least, the closest approximation I imagined he was capable of, what with the book upside down and all. Truman was hovering as he always did.

  “Truman, Wren and I will take dinner in our room alone tonight. You boys may have the night off.”

  Kyle’s face fell as he looked between me and Drake.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow, sir. Ma’am.” Truman bowed and then dragged a protesting Kyle out.

  I heard the lock click on our side and knew Drake must have locked it.

  We stood, staring at each other for the longest time. My heart thudded in my chest. It was the first time we’d been truly alone since he’d come sauntering back into my life. And he was basically naked. The memory of him being totally naked was still super fresh in my mind. I was having trouble thinking of anything but him being naked just then, and adding myself into the mental mix as well.

  “You wanted to talk?” he asked gruffly. “Talk.”

  I swallowed hard. “So, how was your day?” was all I could come up with.

  His eyebrow rose, but he answered as he moved to get dressed. “You really want to know?”

  I nodded as I curled up in my chair. “I really want to know what you get up to every day.”

  He gave a huff that almost sounded like a laugh. “It’s not pleasant for human ears.”

  “I can take it.”

  He threw me a heated look and I rolled my eyes.

  “Just tell me.”

  “All right. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  So, while Drake was avoiding spending time with his Dad and I was avoiding the even more stark reminder I was in Hell, we spent the night talking about what was basically his job in Hell. It was just as terrifying and far more interesting than I thought it would be.

  Drake

  I could hav
e forced her. Of course, I could have. I wanted her six ways from Sunday, that wasn’t a problem. The problem was me not wanting to force her.

  I’d spent literal ages – like, Ages – watching how well the men in my family forcing themselves on women had gone. Persephone was probably Dad’s biggest failure to date. No amount of will he’d tried exerting on her had made her give in to him, even with the might of Demeter behind her to motivate him. And Grandad? I sincerely doubt I needed to go there for any of his manifestations.

  So, I was going to do this the old-fashioned – or, the new-fashioned really – way and seduce her properly. I was well-practised in a lot of things sexual, but proper seduction was not one of them. A benefit to being the son of Lucifer was it didn’t take a lot of effort on my part to get a woman of any species into bed, in Hell or on Earth. I had a natural power that made any conquest simpler.

  Wren was nothing like any woman I’d ever come across. Thus far, getting Wren’s interest was proving to create more problems than it was solving. I knew she wanted me as much as I wanted her. It was in her eyes when she looked at me, I could feel it in her heartbeat, and I could literally see into her mind on the two occasions I’d delved in there. But she was still holding on to ridiculous human notions like we had to like each other before we fucked, or Hell-forbid that we fell in love first.

  And it was driving me insane.

  Until I was going insane for a whole other reason.

  I walked in on her changing the day after we didn’t go to Dad’s party.

  When she heard the door, she pulled a blanket up over her body, barely covering anything scandalous. It still left the curve of her waist blossoming into her wide hips on show and that was just as sexy to me as anything else. That and the fact that the forbidden had always been tantalising to me – a curse of my birth.

  “What?” she asked and I realised I hadn’t said anything for too long.

  “A man can’t appreciate his wife’s body?” I quipped and that’s when it happened.

  Instead of the chastising look and sigh any sort of flirtation had been met with for the previous week, she bit her lip and chuckled as she turned away.