Hell is a Harem: Book 3

by Kim Faulks

  “Lorn!” Rival screamed from the doorway.

  I could feel him fighting—feel him giving everything he had. I opened my arms to the power inside me, to the sheer will of my rage.

  There was no battle now. There was only this.

  My feet left the floor with the sonic boom of energy. Cracks raced along the walls, opening fissures bigger than my fist. The pain was still rising, spreading out taloned tendrils of hate. It’d tear the city apart.

  Tear this whole world in two.

  The steel safe rattled and bounced, skimming across the wooden floor. I focused my anger onto the welded steel. Metal buckled and shredded before the door snapped open with a crack.

  Papers flew from its belly, spewing like the secrets she kept inside.

  A grainy black and white image hit the center of my chest. I grasped the picture and my rage wavered. Thick hair cut into a bob just above my shoulders. Big wide eyes stared back at me. I stared at the towering white church in the background. Heavenly Convent of Christos was engraved on a plaque. My feet touched the ground as the air trembled and then quieted.

  “Lorn!” Rival roared from the doorway. “Jesus Christ! You’ll tear the goddamn city apart!”

  Tears dried on my cheeks as I spun. Agony tore across my head and raced down my spine. My knees trembled and then gave way. Hands caught me before I hit the floor. Rival was there. Rival with his eyes filled with ice blue fire and the mark on his chest burning to life.

  He was mine.

  Mine.

  And I was losing him.

  I gripped his arms, holding on tight. And that mark burned brighter, filling the room with a spear of pure white light. He glanced down at the image in my hand.

  An image of me, but I couldn’t remember it. Not the church in the background or when it was taken. Papers were strewn across the floor. I glanced at the mess, catching the name once more, Heavenly Convent of Christos.

  My hold slipped from Rival as I reached. Edges of the paper buckled under my grip as a shudder raced across the floor.

  “Aftershocks,” Rival growled. “Jesus, Lorn, do you even know how powerful you are? You can’t lose control, not like that. Not ever again. Are you hearing me?”

  I gripped the page and lifted…the words written in Latin…quia praesidium…I lifted the letter and turned.

  Fear hovered in his gaze—for the first time he saw me now—saw the beast I held inside…my blood raced through my veins…Daughter of Lucifer. I’d never escape it—forever alone. “Do you know what this is?”

  He cut a glance at the words and then shook his head. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know,” I murmured and turned to the mess.

  Another image waited…only this was no snapshot of the past. Black eyes of the night hag stared back at me, and there were more…many…many more. Some taken as a blur hunkered in the shadows of city streets, some taken from behind as she crawled across the forest floor.

  One in the corner of a room, those hungry eyes glaring out of the dark…waiting…waiting.

  The Nine.

  The words seized my gaze. I swept the images aside for the pages filled with my grandmother’s writing.

  The Nine are Mortals. This is what I know.

  They seek power…immortal power.

  They aim to control the gates.

  And what is more powerful than those who control who goes to Heaven…and who goes to Hell?

  The noose around Lucifer’s neck is getting tight. He MUST stay away from Lorn. I cannot bear to lose another…not now…not when she’s so close to being the woman she was always meant to be.

  Not now when she finds the family she’s been searching for her entire life.

  For now…is safe. I stared at the scratched mark, trying to read the word underneath and kept on reading…for now…is in Heaven.

  My mom…a tremor raced through my body. Alma was talking about my mom.

  But there was a name circled in red…a name Henry Mughausser…the Nine?

  A name…a name and a reason and as I reread the words, it all started to make sense. Mortals were responsible. Mortals wanted control.

  The innocent weren’t innocent anymore.

  I knew what I had to do now.

  I knew what I had to become.

  I’d be the monster they feared…the monster they’d believed me to be all along. And as the heat of rage turned cold, I knew there was only one place to start.

  With the one man they wanted…

  My father, Lucifer, the Lord of Hell.

  Chapter Four

  Lorn

  “I think it’s time you and I had a meeting with my father.”

  Fear sparked in his eyes like the honed edge of a blade. I could see him thinking, dragging all the pieces together before he lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, I’ve been waiting for this to come. It’s been like a damn knife at my throat. If this, what we , ends after this meeting, I want you to know it was never my intention to fall in love with you.”

  “So lying is okay, but lying and loving isn’t?”

  He flinched with the words. It was the truth. I’d be the first to say that this stings more than any lie ever told.

  “He was my master. I couldn’t refuse him, so, yeah, if you want to put it that way.”

  Was my master…lying and loving. I stared at the mark on his chest. So, did that mean he had a new master now, and it wasn’t the Lord of Hell?

  Guilt swallowed me. I glanced at the pages spread across the floor. I couldn’t lose him, but I was so tired…so goddamn tired of fighting. “Then let’s get this over and done with.”

  I shoved up from the floor and turned. The room was a damn mess. Alma’s bed was shoved hard up against one wall. Her weapons lay in a pile in the corner. There were cracks now, fissures that ran along the walls and across the ceiling.

  What had I done?

  My will trembled, the ache so real and raw. Exhaustion claimed me, but still I had to keep going—I could never give up. I glanced at the pages on the floor and bent.

  It was all here…and it started with one name…Henry Mughausser.

  I’m coming for you, Henry. I’m coming to find the truth. Mortals wanted to use my father. They wanted to hurt me. A line had been drawn, and it’d been Alma protecting it all this time. It’d been Alma fighting.

  I turned, took a step, and then bent, gathering the pages and the images from the floor. She’d passed the baton now, and it had landed on me.

  Rival waited while I slid the documents into a backpack and then went into the bedroom. I yanked the sodden sweater free and pulled on a t-shirt and then my leather jacket, and that perfect feeling of the familiar returned.

  I grabbed the pack, loaded it with weapons and two bottles of water and then moved to the wall. I pulled down every map, and found every hidden photo. I grabbed it all, rolling them tight before I wound an elastic band around the outside.

  Rival watched me from the corner of his eye. I couldn’t fully trust him, not yet. After we were done with my dad, then maybe, but the lies had to come out, on both sides. I’d learned my lesson, learned who I could trust and…who I couldn’t. The jury was still out on Rival, and even though right now I needed him more than ever, I wasn’t about to hand myself over on a platter.

  The truth was, I had no plans on coming back here, not for a while…maybe not ever—not until this was all done and the Nine were buried six feet deep.

  All roads led to Absolon.

  He was the one I wanted.

  And he was the one I’d have.

  “Ready?” Rival murmured as I sat on the edge of the dirty-green sofa and swapped nice boots for my old worn hunting ones. My fingers slipped down the back of the heel finding the tiny catch of the blade.

  I reached across, grabbed a shotgun, and then settled my pack squarely on my shoulders. I was more than ready…the question was, was he?

  “So, how do we do this?” I muttered and stood up from the sofa.
“Am I swallowed by the fires of Hell, or do I chant his name three times into a mirror?”

  Rival just stared at me…for a really long time. “You’re not joking, are you? You’ve never been to the Hall?”

  The Hall? I flinched with his tone, feeling like somehow I’d missed out on something important. “No.”

  A flicker of sadness crossed his eyes for a second before he held out his hand. “Then you’re in for a real treat. You’ll love it…you’ll truly love it.”

  Apprehension filled me as we left the apartment and slipped down the stairs. Cracks ran along the walls, most hadn’t been there before, and as we hit the front door to the building and stepped out into the night, I understood the full extent of my power.

  “You shielded the building,” Rival murmured. “It must be an automatic thing to save yourself…but the shield only went so far, Lorn.”

  Amber lights flashed from the back of overturned cars. Car alarms screeched and blared in the night. Cracks speared across the tar, lifting hunks of asphalt like an erupted volcano. Men and women were gathered out in the streets in their bedclothes.

  But this was the right side of the supernatural line, and people here knew that things that didn’t happen without a reason.

  The apartment door slammed shut behind me with a bang. They all turned, every shifter, every witch, every demon with sparkling midnight eyes. But there wasn’t a look of hate, they were ones of sadness.

  Rival crossed the sidewalk to where my car was sitting crookedly. He stepped up to the hood and bent low, grasped the steel chassis, and lifted.

  The tires left the ground. Metal howled as he stepped to the side and then let go, dropping the Corolla back against the curb.

  He brushed his hands across his thighs and turned to me. “We walk…a portal isn’t far from here.”

  He held out his hand and turned his head, and it was like nothing had ever happened. We were just two star-crossed lovers out in the early hours of the night for a stroll.

  I gripped the strap of my pack with one hand and reached for his hand with the other. Car alarms quieted one after another, leaving my ears to ring in the silence. We walked, leaving the mess of my rage behind.

  For someone else to clean up.

  Like I always did.

  I squeezed his hand as we lengthened our strides and cut across the street. Rival led the way, and for this moment I was ready to let him…to be alone with my thoughts.

  Thoughts filled with Titus, and Gabriel.

  Stars sparkled in the sky now, the turbulent dark clouds long gone. But the storm was far from over. It’d just moved on, and as that idea filled my mind, I knew I was ready.

  Ready to finish this fight once and for all, and ready to settle down. I turned my head, finding the shadow of Rival’s hard jaw. He thought I’d bail on him, thought I turn him away. I could feel the tension growing in him, like a piano wire wound far too tight.

  Pale lips were smashed tight, there was a dangerous look in his eyes as he scanned every building and street. He was on the hunt…looking for a way to unleash his fury, just like me.

  The call of the dead whispered on the wind. I turned toward the scent of old power. A cemetery loomed closer, but not one I knew. “What is this place.”

  “It’s a place of Hell. Demons, hounds, most of the lower caste are buried here. But it’s the altar we need, a portal into Hell.”

  For their loved ones to visit, the words filled my mind.

  In the distance, two towering black granite pillars sparkled, reminding me of Alma’s headstone. A lump wedged in my throat as we stepped through the entrance.

  Power hummed across my arms and snaked along my spine. My breath caught, my eyes widened. Rival watched me as we moved closer.

  “Like calls to like,” he murmured, leading me toward a massive stone pillar. He lifted our hands to his mouth, warm lips pressed against the flesh of my palm as he murmured. “You trust me, right?”

  White fangs glinted in the darkness, slipping over his lips. I gave a nod as he opened wide. Razored teeth nicked the swell, first mine, and then his.

  Words slipped from his lips. They sounded familiar as he pressed our hands to the stony table, and the magic of the altar came to life.

  The air trembled, trees and headstones slipped away. A hot wind hit me like a blow, casting strands of my hair across my face. The wind grew hotter and faster. Rival held on tight as the tornado howled in my ears, and in the blink of an eye, we were standing on a rocky ledge surrounded by sheer granite cliffs.

  “Hold on tight to my hand!” Rival screamed into the wind.

  The roar of the tornado was deafening. I gripped his hand and nodded as my hellhound fought against the gale and slowly lifted his other hand to point into the sky.

  Tears filled my eyes as I blinked into the searing blast. I lifted my gaze, following the motion to the rocky outcrop high above. Midnight skies waited, but here in Hell there were no stars to navigate, no moon to light our way, there was only darkness…darkness and stone.

  The stony face of the outcrop glowed fiery red. I fought to turn my head and looked down. Obsidian skies might’ve been above us, but around us was a sheer rock face of stone, curving around in a massive funnel…and we were right in the middle.

  Blistering wind came out of the belly of the abyss. I gripped Rival’s hand and leaned forward enough to see. And it was a funnel, as the rock face below us wound tighter and tighter, curving in until there was one small portal at the end.

  And out of that opening spewed the flames of Hell.

  I jerked my gaze back to Rival. He watched me, watched every flare of emotion, and I saw him now, saw him in this place. Red lines carved along his arms, like the fire was in his veins.

  His dark eyes sparkled a little brighter here…in the bowels of Hell, this man was alive. His lips curled, life raged inside him, because for him, this was home.

  I met his smile with my own, and in this moment, I felt the faint calling…like calls to like, he’d whispered at the gate, and it was that humming now—that need which filled me. A need to belong.

  Still as I stood with him in the middle of this funnel of stone, I didn’t understand where Lucifer was. Was this him? The skies, the flames, the stone? I glanced around us and shook my head.

  Still my hellhound just smiled and motioned me forward. He must be out of his damn mind, how the hell can I walk? I couldn’t even damn well move.

  The path we stood on was narrow, the sheer rock face on my side, and on the other a dreadfully long fall. I swallowed hard, fear punching a hole into my chest. I couldn’t move, couldn’t step…couldn’t do anything but tremble.

  Until a whisper called me…one that shattered the fear, one that made everything else fade away.

  I’m here, my father whispered inside my mind. Look up, Lorn…I am here.

  My gaze slipped higher until it was caught on that spear of rock that stuck out high above.

  The red hue from the fire brightened the granite, shapes took place where I’d seen none before. Out of the jagged sheer cliffs were thick, straight slabs that reached up and leveled off, like a bridge. I followed the path to the thick teardrop scales all the way to a monstrous dragon’s head.

  He was there…I could feel it, that calling, that drawing me. My knuckles burned as I clenched his hand, but my hellhound never wavered, moving with me as I took a step, and then another.

  This is your home, it will never hurt you, whispered my father…Just as I would never hurt you.

  I moved slowly, step after step, as we wound around the funnel amid the blazing heat. But with each step, the wind softened, and the heat no longer seared the side of my face. I moved more freely and faster, finally letting Rival’s hand go.

  The dragon’s head came closer, looming above me as I walked underneath and then across to the other side. With each step, the stony carving changed its sparkling eyes and glinting scales. I was caught by its beauty, transfixed by something so unusual, until
finally we were on the last stretch.

  The path was harder to see as the midnight skies claimed what the red glow couldn’t.

  “The Keep, we call it,” Rival called behind me. “The Watcher, the Protector, the Order…”

  The Order…the words hummed through my veins.

  “And down there…that’s what we call the Dragon’s Breath.”

  I looked down to where the fiery glow flickered. It looked almost orange from up here, but in the middle was a tiny spark of blue, like a jewel amongst the fire.

  My heart gave a stutter, and it was in that moment I fell in love. I reached out, fingers spread, skimming razor-edged stones, and felt the warmth of this place.

  Energy raced, casting a ripple of power across the mountain, and this place answered the call as the flames from the pit grew brighter, shooting like lava into the sky.

  The ground shuddered. The beast of this place seemed to move.

  “It recognizes you,” Rival murmured. “It’s welcoming you home.”

  I wanted to run along the valleys and touch every surface. I wanted to scream into the starless night. I wanted to stay here…forever…home…the word filled me. I was home…

  And as I stepped up to the last rocky ledge and onto the massive bridge leading out to the Dragon’s head, I knew it was because of my father. This was his home, so it was also mine.

  The warm breeze tickled my nose I looked above as Rival climbed the last step onto the ledge. “I told you that you were in for a treat.”

  My heart thundered, words failed me. I stepped faster now, moving on trembling legs. Shadows clung to a wide-open cavern at the bar of the dragon’s neck.

  Dragon scales became the walls towering on either side, and with each step I came closer, I saw how they glinted with tiny jewels. Red…yellow…blue…the sight nagged me, urging me to understand.

  But the door was yawning, ready to swallow me whole. Into the blackness I plunged, with the heavy thud of Rival’s boots close behind. Scales became the walls as we slipped into the belly of the beast. A set of wide stairs led us down, circling ever tighter. Everything was a spiral in this place, leading me down to where it opened up to a hallway.