Heaven to Hell (A Naughty Box Production Book 1)

by Rue Volley

  Cera, the clever girl, had found a way for him to use it without burning himself. Perhaps it was evidence that she still believed in him. She hadn’t given up hope. He honestly didn’t know how he felt about that. No one had ever counted on him before or given a damn. Then again, there had never been anyone quite like Cera.

  Snatching a scarf of violet from the floor, he shook it out then wrapped the dagger’s blade in it so it wouldn’t touch his skin. Next, he tucked the weapon down the leg of his motorcycle boot and headed down the stairs. By the time he revved the motorcycle, the upstairs bedroom had a nice fiery glow flickering at the window.

  Pushing the motorcycle to its limits, Hale streaked down the back roads toward the decrepit cemetery. Dirt and gravel kicked up behind him like a wild streamer as he throttled the bike. He was going so fast that the rearend fishtailed when he turned onto the dark road. The back tire spun on the gravel and for a moment, he feared he might lose control of the machine. If he’d been going any faster, he would have missed the narrow road altogether.

  He had less than five minutes to reach the designated meeting point. He hoped, for Cera’s sake, that the bastard was in the mood to make a deal. And if the master had harmed her in any way, Hale couldn’t be held responsible for anything that happened next.

  Hale killed the engine then dropped the bike. He didn’t have time to worry about kickstands, scratched paint or such trivial things. All that mattered was finding Cera and stopping the master from harming her.

  He vaulted over the locked gates then took off at a dead run. When he reached the center of the graveyard, he approached the crypt the master had pulled him through the night before. There was no sign of Cera or the master anywhere.

  The cemetery was deathly silent. Not even the crickets or night birds were chirping. A slight breeze carried the scent of fresh dirt and ashes across the grounds. Hale’s insides crawled and his heartbeat stuttered. What if he was too late? What if the master had already done whatever horrific thing he planned to do?

  Hale knew the evil asshole was here somewhere, hidden amongst the headstones and monuments. The master only knew cruelty and trickery. He enjoyed being veiled within the shadows. He got off on watching the suffering, confusion, and panic of others. Especially when he was the cause of it.

  “Where is she?” Hale refused to give in to the growing dread that settled in the center of his chest. To do so was exactly what the master would want. He’d want Hale so upset and terrified that he’d make mistakes. He wanted Hale to become a stupid dolt who would do anything for the woman he loved. The master enjoyed seeing strong men grovel and beg. Hale had even witnessed some of them sacrifice themselves for their family or loved ones. He had no idea if he was that strong of a man and honestly didn’t relish finding out.

  Instead of dwelling on these fears, Hale listened closely to the dismal darkness surrounding the immediate area. The grass rustled nearby and the distinct sound of a muffled cry drew his attention. He tilted his head and listened to the near silence. There it was again. He moved toward it, aware that it was more than likely a trap.

  “Come on,” he taunted. “You got me here just like you wanted. What’s the next step in your plan?”

  A low, dangerous laugh seemed to float on the breeze and bounce off the headstones. It carried with it the sharp sting of cinders and ash. A familiar shadow loomed to life right behind him. Its arm lifted to fall heavy upon his shoulder. Fingers like steel clenched tight against his flesh. In a low voice, the master said, “You are a minute too late.”

  Hale bit back a growl. “Actually, I was on time. You can’t change the rules in mid-play just because you want to play hide and seek.”

  A sharp bark of laughter was his reward and the master said, "I can do as I please, Hale. I own you.”

  Turning to regard the old demon, Hale grimaced. “So it seems. I believe you said I have a choice to make?”

  The master picked at a loose thread from his sleeve. “It did not look as if you were going to make up your mind. I made it for you.”

  His temper, along with the flames that ran along his arms, flared. He gripped the master’s jacket in both hands and hauled him closer. So much for controlling his temper!

  Their faces were just inches apart when Hale snarled, “Tell me where Cera is!”

  Not to be intimidated by his underling, the master roared back. He thrust Hale away as if he were nothing more than a sack of fluff.

  Hale sailed through the air, his body and limbs struck everything in its path. Cement headstones crumbled upon impact as he slammed into them. His left arm shattered a lovely granite cross that marked a child’s resting place as he crashed to a stop. Looping his right arm around the base, he pulled himself up then staggered to his feet.

  He barely turned around when the master was suddenly there with his hand around Hale’s throat. His silvery eyes squinted and the dark elliptical pupils seemed to focus solely on Hale. The sharp teeth in his mouth was bared in an unfriendly grin. “Tell me, Jameson Hale. What is it that you came here to do tonight?”

  The master’s clawed hand tightened on Hale’s throat. His grip was like iron and had grown too tight. Clawing at the demonic fingers clenched around his throat, Hale attempted to suck in a breath of clean air. What little he could draw in tasted of ashes and death. The master laughed at his failed attempts.

  Fine. Hale could play this game too.

  Instead of pulling at the demon’s hands or trying to push him away, Hale gripped handfuls of the master’s long hair. As his fingers tangled in the locks, the silken length went up in flames. The keratin and proteins shriveled as the inferno ate them away and left a terrible stench. The master roared in anger and pain as the flames licked at his neck, ears and scalp. Finally, he dropped Hale and spun away.

  Knowing this was going to require more than a few fire tricks, Hale scrambled up and ran for one of the closest mausoleums. And that’s when he saw her.

  Chapter Nine

  Cera hung like a deconstructed Jesus on a cross. Her arms were lashed out to the side, held in place by rusty, barbed wire. Her ankles were crossed over one another and held to the old wooden cross by more of the wire. Pale skin was stained with crimson as the wire bit into her flesh.

  As Hale’s gaze drifted upward, his breath caught in his throat. The barbed wire was wrapped tightly around her throat and forehead as well. The nightgown she wore was filmy, speckled with blood, and nearly see-through. Her body trembled as she attempted to keep the weight off her throat and extremities. Each time she moved or tried to take the pressure off one area, the barbs jabbed deeper into another. A low moan of pain escaped her as a pearl of blood cascaded down the hollow of her throat to pool between her breasts.

  Her eyes were squished tight. Like maybe she thought if she didn’t make eye contact with him or the master, this would all go away. Cera’s lips were moving in a low, monotonous mumble. Hale supposed she was praying.

  Behind him, the master chuckled. "I have never thought of myself as much of an artist, but I do believe I have outdone myself. What do you think, Hale?”

  Hale growled in fury as he dove at his master. His arms caught him around the waist. He hauled the infuriating demon off his feet then carried him to the ground beneath him. Hale’s fists slammed into his face over and over until there was nothing left but soft mush. It took Hale a few moments to realize the master had disappeared and his hands were pulverizing freshly dug grave dirt.

  The master kicked him in the side, cracking a couple ribs. Laughing merrily, he darted just out of Hale’s reach.

  “Enough,” Hale said in a winded voice. He would heal, but it would take a few minutes. As he stood, his hand dipped into his boot to extract the angel’s dagger.

  The master’s gaze followed the movement. At first he seemed unimpressed, but as Hale shook away the scarf, his eyes widened slightly. “Where did you get that, Hale?”

  Hale bared his teeth and growled like a caged animal. It was a deep,
throaty sound full of violent warning. “You shouldn’t concern yourself with where I got it, but more with what I’m gonna do with it.”

  He swiped at the master with the blade. The demon jumped backward at the last moment and the blade barely missed his arm. Had Hale been just a fraction of a second faster, he would have sliced the demon’s shoulder wide open.

  The demon taunted him with another shitty grin. "I think I should just kill you both. I cannot keep a disobedient hunter and his whore at my side.”

  The master was out of Hale’s reach now. “Do not worry, Hale. I shall judge your lover just as the angels would. They have already taken her wings, so the final judgment would be called for.”

  Hale managed to get a few steps closer without the master noticing. He was so busy taunting Hale, he didn’t seem to notice that he’d gotten within striking distance.

  “The angels would behead her. It seems just, so I shall do the same.” The master turned to focus on him, his eyes narrowed slightly. “What are you…?”

  Hale roared as he swung the blade downward toward the master’s chest. He only had one shot at this and couldn’t afford to fuck it up.

  The master flung his hand up in a defensive move. A blast of magic pushed Hale backward at the same time.

  Hale’s dagger sliced a ribbon of crimson across the master’s palm seconds before he was jolted backward. He went flying in one direction while the dagger went sailing in the other. The master bellowed in pain then whirled into the darkness. Hale landed hard on his ass several feet away from where he’d been standing. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but didn’t see the master anywhere. Had he gone for good?

  Hale raced to where Cera continued to hang on the cross. He had to get her down. He should have done that first. “Hold on, angel.”

  “Hale,” his name came out as a choked, broken whisper.

  "I don’t think I can do this without hurting you,” he apologized. As he looked up at her, so many emotions crashed over him. Anger, fear, hatred, relief, and love. He was such an emotional mess right now, his entire body shook.

  Grasping the wooden base, he pushed the cross until it began to lean over. He had to really put some muscle into it. The movement jarred Cera, causing her to bite her lip and whimper. The wire bit into her skin, bringing with it the sharp tang of blood. Finally, he was able to lower her to the ground.

  Hale crouched down on one knee to cup her cheek in his palm. “Hold on, Cera. I’ll get you off this damned thing.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes as she gazed up at him. “He said you wouldn’t come for me, that you didn’t really love me.”

  “Demons lie.” He unwound the wire from her forehead and grimaced at the puncture wounds it left behind. Next he removed it from her throat. The barbs had gouged into the tender flesh, leaving angry, bloody wounds.

  “I’m sorry you got pulled into this,” he said as he leaned over to kiss her gently on the cheek.

  He’d just begun freeing her left wrist when Cera’s eyes widened and she gasped. “Look out!”

  Too late. Something heavy and hard struck him. Pain burst through the right side of his head and face as black dots floated across his vision. Fat droplets of blood ran down the side of his face and dripped past his ear. His confused gaze met Cera’s terrified one. The crimson droplet splattered against her collarbone and she threw her head back and screamed. He’d forgotten just how caustic demon blood was.

  Hale reached for her, intending to wipe the smear of blood away before it could blister her further. Before he could touch her, something, or someone, grabbed hold of him. His jacket was ripped away and he was thrown backward. He landed in a deep, dark hole—a freshly dug grave.

  Despite the woozy feeling that made his head reel and his stomach knot, Hale crawled to his hands and knees. His head didn’t feel right. Whatever the master had used to bash it in must have crushed the skull. If he’d been a lesser man, a human, he’d probably be dead. Gripping handfuls of the dirt, he leaned against the wall of earth and sank to his knees. He peered up at the star blotted sky as he fought the urge to pass out. This was complete bullshit.

  Up above he could hear someone’s boots crunch the gravel as they stalked closer to the yawning grave’s edge. A shadow blotted out the moon momentarily as someone peered down into the hole. At the very last moment, they turned away and moved toward where he’d left Cera. She began screaming and begging for them to have mercy. The sound of the wooden cross being dragged across the gravel and grass, coupled with Cera’s pained cries struck a nerve within him. He’d either kill the bastard or sell his soul to make it stop.

  It was time to put an end to this nonsense.

  “Enough!” he shouted as he clawed his way out of the hole. He’d just managed to pull himself out when the master turned from Cera. Her hands grabbed at the master’s leather boots and attempted to make him stop. As he dragged her, the wire cut deeper into the skin of her ankles and feet.

  The master dropped the religious symbol he’d fastened Hale’s angel to. He turned to snarl at Hale, ignoring Cera’s whimper of pain. An ugly smile warped the demon’s features. “Enough? It is enough when I say it is enough.”

  “What the fuck do you want from me?” Hale positioned himself between Cera and the demon. “Tell me what it’ll take to keep you from harming her.”

  A slow smile formed on the master’s face. “What are you willing to give?”

  “Don’t make a deal with him,” Cera yelled as she jerked at the wire around her ankles. “It’s not worth it, Hale. I’m not worth it!”

  Hale turned his back on Cera. He couldn’t look at her right now, not when so much was at stake.

  The master rocked back on his heels to stare at Hale. After a moment’s worth of really looking at him, he said, “As I told you before, I cannot bear to be without you. You are quite valuable to me, Hale.”

  “You want me to continue gathering your wayward souls?” Hale straightened, his head felt a bit better now. Being a demon had some perks, like super-fast heeling. Not to mention some cool powers to use on occasion.

  “That is only one of the things I want you for, my son. I have many plans for you, but you must rebuild my trust in you.” The master held out his hand as if he merely wanted to shake Hale’s hand. His silvery serpent eyes were trained on Hale’s face in expectant amity. “One century, Hale. This is the requirement.

  Cera had grown quite behind him. He didn’t dare turn to look at her or take his eyes off the master.

  “A century is a heavy penance to pay,” Hale murmured. “Fifty years seems fairer to me.”

  “Fine. Fifty years, but I will take the girl.” The master grinned, malice burning in his gaze.

  “No deal,” Hale said in a soft voice. Still, he did not dare look in Cera’s direction. Her continued silence worried him, but he didn’t want the master to know how badly it affected him.

  The master studied Hale’s impassive face for a moment. His lip twitched in a slight snarl. “A century if you keep the girl.”

  “And I can roam this realm as I wish.” Hale tilted his head, testing the demon. A century was one hell of a long time. The demon would have to sweeten the deal.

  Master crossed his arms over his chest and gave it some thought. His right boot tapped at the ground and he grimaced. Hale just knew he was going to deny his requirements or add more to the deal.

  Hale stared at him, calculating the risks and likelihood that this would come back to bite him in the ass. Finally, he risked a glance in Cera’s direction. Bless her, she must have finally passed out from the shock or pain. She’d managed to free one foot, but the other was still wired to the rough-hewn cross.

  “Would it be the set up as before?” Hale asked. "I collect the souls owed?”

  The demon nodded his head then stuck out his hand. Hale grasped it tightly then they shook. As their palms slid together and their fingers clasped, a shockwave of heat and lightheadedness overwhelmed him.

  “D
eal.” The master grinned at him.

  Once again, he’d just struck a deal with the so-called devil.

  Chapter Ten

  Cera’s head rolled against Hale’s shoulder as he eased up on the throttle. She began to stir a bit as he downshifted then coasted off interstate thirty-five. Caged between his arms, he wasn’t worried about losing her to the interstate or the building traffic around him. The exit he chose would lead them to the outskirts of Austin. It was as far as he could go tonight. The pinkish rays of the sun were already beginning to peek over the horizon. Reddish-pink fingers of daylight streaked the sky and crawled over the treetops.

  The bigger buildings were at his back now and he rode into the burning horizon. He downshifted again then coasted into the parking lot of a fairly nice looking motel. The lot only had a few parking spaces left, but he’d ridden too long to be picky. He simply didn’t have the time to look for another. The sun continued to creep upward and any moment it would break over the hills and pierce the sky. Hale no longer had his jacket because the master had torn it to shreds the night before. He wouldn’t be able to flip the hood up to protect his sensitive eyes.

  “Wait here,” he instructed as he kicked the kickstand into position then made certain Cera was actually alert enough to stand on her own.

  A stuck-up business man swept past Hale on his way out of the office. Hale brushed past him then smirked at the loser as he plucked the nice pair of aviator shades from his pocket. These were a rich, snobby pair. Silver frames with dark lenses. Nice. He pocketed them then stepped into the office. Once he’d procured a room, he slipped the shades on then bent to pick up Cera.

  The room was on the backside of the motel, away from the road and the rest of the activity. Hale had lied, stating that they were newlyweds. He’d said he had an insatiable hunger for her, which wasn’t a lie. The sleazy attendant smirked and nodded then handed him two electronic key cards. The greasy little guy had explained that this room was the biggest room they had and it used to be the previous owners living quarters. Now that the motel had gone through some renovations and new management, they’d transformed the room into a special suite.