Frost (Queens of Hell Book 1)

by Liza James

  Skilla suddenly begins writhing beneath me, struggling to escape as the ground practically breathes below us.

  I know what’s coming, and it’s in that next instant we’re swallowed up by the earth and descend into Hell.

  What the hell is happening to me? My mind is racing with a thousand thoughts, struggling to process and keep up before the next strike hits. How does one make sense of this? How am I supposed to understand and defend or protect myself when every other sentence is a new revelation?

  None of this makes sense. None of it. And the only person I feel explicitly drawn to is the one who wants me fucking dead. I traded one monster for another, my step-brother for an evil entity.

  And to think I was trying to figure out how to escape the club earlier. There’s no way I’m getting out of this…the Underworld…without someone’s assistance.

  In a single moment of sheer confusion at Na’amah’s spoken word, the ground below opens wide to swallow us completely. I’m on my stomach, with her at my back and it feels as though we’re falling freely. My body instantly reacts by attempting to shrink back and into Na’amah. Her arms wrap tightly around my waist as she pulls me against her as well.

  She’s cold. Frozen, actually, against my skin and yet I hate myself for finding comfort in her nearness. Everything is black, and for a moment, I wish I could glance back into her eyes for some kind of bright light in this darkness.

  What a fucking joke.

  She’s anything but light, and those little alarms in my mind continuously remind me that I have to fight and escape or I will die here.

  I will die here.

  She said so herself, when she mentioned her other girls. What did she say again? That they’re used for fucking food? Jesus fucking Christ. My head swims, and before I realize it we’ve hit the ground and Na’amah has somehow landed us on our feet. That’s the moment I realize I’m not even touching the ground, until Na’amah drops me a few inches and I can finally stand on my own.

  But I fall, immediately. A wash of dizziness and nausea roll through me all at once. Slamming my eyes closed, I rub my fingers over my skin, feeling the texture of my previous fight with Rowan and Na’amah’s blending together.

  What the fuck has the last twelve hours of my life been.

  “Get up,” she snaps behind me, and I wish I had a second to collect myself before she yanks me up off the floor and shoves me forward. I scramble to open my eyes and pay attention. I’m desperately looking for anything, another person, a doorway, any familiar sign as to where I could actually be.

  I’d say the Underworld doesn’t exist, but the fact that I just fell through the fucking dirt outside my home tells me otherwise. Those thoughts alone paralyze me, so I forcibly shove them down and attempt suppressing the intoxicating fear that’s made home under my skin. She’s a resident that’s become all too familiar since the club last night.

  What I do notice, however, are the black walls and floors surrounding me. Everything is grand and granite, impeccably designed in some architectural display of renaissance. Large columns, intricate pediments and archways span the grand hall we’re currently moving through.

  I’m caught off guard by how beautiful it truly is. But I refuse to acknowledge that for long, and the heavy footfalls of Na’amah behind me become the staple consistency I rely on to keep me grounded. Because if I don’t make it out of here, at least I’ll die at the hands of someone who’s already marked my body in her toxicity. It’ll be familiar, and I’ll make sure she stares into my eyes before taking my fucking life.

  I’ll take her with me, find whatever her weakness is, so when the time comes I’m fucking prepared.

  Suddenly, a set of magnificent, white doors come into view. They’re huge, standing at least twenty feet above my head. Large decorative vines of black and gold dance across them in beautifully intricate patterns. They truly capture my attention, and my pace slows while my head tilts to the right as I make sense of them. “They almost look like—” I begin quietly, but Na’amah immediately pushes me forward and pulls my attention away from the doorway.

  “Quiet. Do not speak unless spoken to, do not fight, and do not touch a single thing. Do you understand me?” she demands at my back, her tone turning detached and colder than usual. When it was the two of us before, she felt a bit raw, like I had the space to dig a little deeper if I could manage to.

  Here? She’s completely shut off. I wouldn’t have even distinguished the difference if not for this moment right now.

  “Yes,” I reply, but in the next moment she’s hovering over my back, her fingers sliding slowly over my hip and lower stomach as she pulls me back against her. I gasp, my breath caught in my throat at how strangely gentle it feels.

  “Do not speak. Nod. That is your only option. I will direct you further if necessary once you face Lilith.” She whispers the words in my ear, her soft lips brushing against me and sending goosebumps springing across my shoulders.

  I want to refuse, tell her to fuck right off and let me go again. But my body is sore, my mind is tired, and the sheer fear that lives rent-free inside of me is now controlling my every decision.

  I’m too exhausted to fight back at the moment and I know I’ll need to rest before I can successfully save myself from whatever the fuck this is.

  Save myself. The two words trigger some sort of instant emotional response in my stomach. It feels like a bird, suddenly flapping freely in a space it was previously caged within. I can’t explain it entirely, but I resonate with it, and while my body moves in terror and uncertainty, the tiniest anchor of something new and strong sparks in my chest.

  I tuck that away, clinging to the feeling. I'll need that reminder moving forward.

  I nod, finally, just as we approach the doors in front of us. They are absolutely magical. I swear the gold practically moves along the detailed wisps and feathers etched into the frame.

  I want to ask what they are, because I’m so curious to know why—

  Na’amah quickly slides her thumb just under my jaw, stepping up to my side and turning so that she’s looking down on me. I watch her as she lifts it and slips it between her lips, her long, slick tongue sliding across the tip as if she’s tasting me on her flesh. My eyebrows drop in confusion, and yet my heart rate picks up just slightly as my eyes focus on her movements.

  “Wings,” she replies flatly. The exact answer to my thoughts just a moment ago. That’s what I imagined they were, but I couldn’t be sure and now I’m absolutely baffled at the notion that she could have known what I was thinking.

  “How did you—” I start, but Na’amah is quick to step in front and cut me off. She lifts her hand, her long slender fingers splayed out as she presses it against a burst of black and gold spires. It looks as though that’s where the handle should be for the door, and I suddenly realize in a way, it’s exactly what this is.

  Na’amah drops her head and whispers something I don’t understand. It sounds like the same language she spoke before when she brought us here. My mind runs through the different languages I’ve heard spoken around me, the few classes I’ve taken in high school but nothing triggers a familiarity.

  But my thoughts are quickly drawn toward the doors again when something changes. It begins small, and my eyes follow the tiny wisps as they pull and unravel across the frame of the door. I gasp, confused and suddenly frightened at what I’m watching. How could this be possible? Stumbling back, my eyes frantically bounce around the entire space as the swirls shift around the large doorway. It’s as if the door itself is alive, unlocking completely before finally parting for our entry.

  Na’amah hears my faltered steps backwards and immediately whips her head toward me, a single hand darts forward and grips my wrist, yanking me in front of her until she’s nestled tightly behind me again. Nothing in her face shows a glimpse of emotion, no break in that steely, frozen demeanor she so easily maintains.

  Does she feel anything? I absently wonder, and the thought feels s
illy until I remind myself much crazier things have happened in the last twelve hours.

  I’m pushed forward again, the knife she must have holstered this entire time now lays strongly against my back in a continuous reminder that she can so easily take my life. My eyes stray to the left and the right as I observe where we entered, and if I thought the grand space of the hall before this was magical—this room is something else entirely.

  Large velvet tapestries line the walls in stunning, vibrant colors. Purple, blue, black, and green. They cascade over the floor and spill through the center of the room across the black granite below us. Ahead of me rests four magnificent thrones.

  Thrones. Jesus fuck, I never thought I’d use that word to describe something I was witnessing in reality and another wave of disbelief and confusion threatens to break through once again. I force the feeling away though, because I know once it hits, I’ll be overcome in a complete and total mental fucking break down.

  Just get through the next few minutes. Minutes at a time, that’s what I’m telling myself. And I’ll keep repeating that mantra in my mind until I can finally escape, or take Na’amah down with me when I go.

  Within those thrones, sits three women. One of which I recognize immediately—Aggie. Her wild purple hair bounces around her shoulders and the smile on her face is both manic and predatory. Her throne is the most colorful out of the four, sprinkled in beautiful gemstones and crystals that frame her lithe figure perfectly.

  Beside her sits a woman I’ve never seen before. She’s stunning, and regal in a way none of the others hold. She seems peaceful, and yet her gaze pierces through me in subtle flames I can hardly explain. It’s painful, whatever it is, and not a single ounce of her feels welcoming to me. Her lips are pressed into a tight line, and I don’t miss the way her eyes snap up to Na’amah at my back. They don’t warm for her either.

  In between them, sits the woman I was only in the presence of briefly at the club. I never saw her face, but her energy now is what I’m most familiar with. I can feel it, slithering around her in chaos and discomfort. Her appearance is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, pale skin and long, raven black hair. Her lips are a pale, diminished tone against her flesh. I can tell from looking at her that something is wrong. But whatever condition she’s facing does nothing to distract from her beauty.

  She’s otherworldly. Imperial. Queenly.

  “Lilith.” Na’amah’s voice blows out across the soft skin at the nape of my neck. My heart rate peaks, fluttering uncontrollably until she places her hand in the same spot, as if she could visibly see the goosebumps breaking out over my skin. Her tone remains that cold, detached blast of ice in the large space and I stand frozen in between all of them.

  I feel weak, in the midst of this apparent strength. I’m the prey, and these predators are everything I could ever imagine being terrified of. I’ve faced countless obstacles in my life, clearly with my step-brother and also at the club. I’ve heard the stories of The Nation and what Aura and Calypso experienced with Dom. Thankfully, it never went that far with me, as in Dom never brought me to The Nation or attempted recruiting me.

  But I did suffer his nights in room five. I did experience that dark and vile part of him, but it was so similar to Rowan’s stolen moments I was able to easily shut myself off from the interactions.

  Besides, as much as I hated to admit it, it felt familiar. And there is comfort in familiarity.

  “Do you never listen, little sister?” Lilith finally speaks, and I notice the way her already pale fingers tighten around the arms of her throne. She looks tired, but underneath the exhaustion lies a clear fiery anger burning within.

  My eyes snap to the left in an instant, just as the high-pitched sound of Aggie’s piercing laughter billows through the air. It echoes off the walls and I instinctually flinch away at the loud sound as it catches me off guard. Na’amah tenses at my back, I feel her step close but I also hear the quiet release of a sigh as she listens to the maniacal laughter of her sister.

  “Praise the Lord, the prodigal son has returned once again with another devout member of the cause.” Aggie stands, lifting her hands wide and high in the air. She suddenly brings them together in what I believe is mock prayer, bending at her hips and straightening back up with a smile spread wide across her face.

  “Why, please, tell me why you so willingly entertain humanity’s false interpretation of creation? It’s embarrassing, really.” This time, the voice belongs to the woman at Lilith’s right, she rolls her eyes back and presses her fingers to her temples in what seems to be irritation.

  Aggie sits back down with a heavy thump, throwing one leg over the other as that arrogant smile slips back across her face again. “Eh, call it a church kink. I can’t help it.” Her fingers clasp at the center of her chest, her head falling to the left on a slight tilt as her eyes bore into my own. “Praise be, sister. Praise be.”

  “Enough!” Lilith shouts, her voice screeching through the air like a burning blade searing over my bones. I feel it everywhere, and my body responds by throwing myself back against Na’amah uncontrollably. She pushes me forward again though, refusing to let me near her. She doesn’t give a shit either way of my survival, and it’s a subtle reminder that I am here entirely on my own.

  Lilith stands, slowly, but without a single shred of weakness in her movements. I can tell something is desperately wrong with her, but I also have a feeling she would never let anyone close enough to see that. Stepping down, her eyes don’t fall to me once, but remain locked on Na’amah as she inches us closer.

  There is a power breathing between them, a tension that’s thick and heavy in both anger and misery. It’s dark, and sits like a weight around all of us. I so badly wish I understood what was happening, but I take the momentary distraction of tension to glance around the room for any other doorways or means of escape.

  “I always listen, sister. That is why I’ve come, that is the only reason I’ve brought her here.” Na’amah’s voice remains strong and persistent. She presses her hand to the small of my back, eliciting a wash of resentment rolling through me at the simple touch. “You need her. As much as you don’t want to admit it, as much as I don’t want to. Believe me, I’d much rather have left her to die where I found her tonight. But we need everything we can get ahold for you, and I’m willing to sacrifice her life on your behalf.”

  What the fuck.

  “Are you kidd—” I mutter, but my mouth seals shut in the next second when the only unknown woman looks my way. I don’t know what she’s done, I don’t understand it, but I physically cannot open my mouth in any way. My mind races, and I panic at the confusing war working through me. Where the fuck am I? Who are these people? Why can I not speak, and defend myself, and control these feelings rushing through me?

  “Silence, human,” she speaks flatly, completely dismissing my presence as she turns her attention back to Lilith and Na’amah. “She’s right. We do need her.”

  “And what if we kill her? Huh? What do you do then? Do not pretend like a death belonging to one of your submissives means nothing to you. I know that is not the case,” Lilith explains, again, refusing to meet my gaze and only speaking to my captor. I can hardly believe every word I’m hearing. I don’t understand anything that has happened tonight thus far, but I feel like the more I try to make sense of it, the crazier I am.

  “I could train her,” Aggie speaks, and for the first time, I’m actually hopeful this might be the outcome. Whatever I’m training for, there’s something sweet and a bit magical about Aggie. Like a wild herd of elk running through her, life flows in her veins and magic sings in her blood.

  She’s the warmest of them all, but I’m not naive enough not to realize that she could have a completely different side I’ve never seen before. Who knows what goes on behind her closed doors, there is something awfully secretive about her…and I’m not sure I want to understand what that is just yet.

  She jumps up and hurries down the s
teps, eagerly moving toward me with hands outstretched when an arm suddenly snakes around my waist and tightens painfully. I’m yanked backwards and thrown behind Na’amah, and that’s the moment I realize she’s lunging toward Aggie with a strangled hiss escaping her throat.

  Aggie stumbles back, that smile stretching even wider while her eyebrows dip in the slightest bout of confusion. Na’amah quickly steps back, cutting off her threatening tone and physically shaking her head in front of me. “Well, well well—” Aggie whispers, and I can barely hear it before she hastily goes quiet when Na’amah snaps her head in that direction.

  “I’m fucking tired, okay? And hungry. I apologize.” She turns away from Aggie and moves toward Lilith, slowly pressing her hands against her shoulders and bringing her forehead to rest against her sisters. It’s the kindest moment I’ve seen any of them share, and I use the tender exchange to glance over my shoulder for any means of escape. “A single taste, okay? Tell me if she’s compatible. If she is, I’ll work with her. Take it slow, train her well. She’ll take the Bite, I’m sure of it.”

  The Bite.

  What the actual hell is the goddamn Bite? Fear slithers against my skin and stirs low in my belly. My intuition, that inner voice is scraping along my blood in reminders that this is where my life will end. This mansion, this fucking nightmare, this insane Wonderland of Hell I’ve happened to find myself in. Because that’s the truth, is it not? I have no idea where I am. I can only make assumptions, guesses at how I fell through the fucking earth and found myself locked in a room with powerful creatures drawing unexplainable emotions from me.

  I don’t fucking understand. How did I find myself at my club only a few hours ago and now in what feels like the pit of the actual fucking earth.

  My eyes scan the wide space, narrowing in on two small doorways on opposite ends of the room. I’ve got no idea where either one leads, but if I quietly step away and—