Hell's Calling

by Bea Paige

  “You could…” I gaze upwards at the people being torn around in the darkness. “I don’t know, fly up there and get them down or something.”

  Maro laughs. “I can no more fly up there than you can. There is nothing we can do for them now.”

  “But you’re an angel, you must have special powers, surely?”

  Maro shakes his head. “Not unless being a sucker for lost causes is classed as a special power?”

  “Is that what you think I am? A lost bloody cause?” I stamp my foot. He raises an eyebrow at that.

  “I think you have an impossible task. I think you are both brave, and utterly naive. This isn’t a game. There are many things you’ll see that you cannot change, even if you want to. Some people are beyond saving and some just can’t be saved.”

  “And what about Tris?”

  Maro swipes a hand through his hair, which in this light is a little less golden than before. In fact, when I take the time to look closer at him, everything is a little less bright. I don’t know why, but that scares me a little.

  “When the time comes, I will help you, but I cannot promise you it will be enough, Cookie.”

  Perhaps I am naive, perhaps this is all pointless but I have little choice now but to move forwards, or down, considering we seem to now be walking on an incline.

  “I’m not going to lose my little sister to Hell, Maro.”

  “It’s a long way to go. This place, and the circles we’ve already passed through are nothing compared to what you will see next. Are you certain this is what you want to do?”

  I grab Maro’s arm, forcing him to stop moving. “I’ve never been more certain. Tris is why I’m here. She’s the only person who brightens my life. My love for her will give me strength. I don’t need anyone else.”

  “No?”

  “No,” I repeat.

  “Well then Miss I Don’t Need Anyone Else, let’s keep going,” Maro says, flinging his arm out wide. “Next circle awaits.”

  A few steps in front of us I can just about make out a ledge, over which is nothing but a deep, gaping chasm. I peer into a void of darkness, not able to see a thing.

  “How do we get there?” I ask.

  “That’s easy, jump.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me? I thought you said before we should always wait for the stairs?”

  Maro raises an eyebrow. “That was then, this is now. You want to save your sister, you jump.”

  “But I can’t see the bottom…” My legs suddenly go a little weak at the knees. This is nuts.

  Maro holds out his hand for me to take. “Do you trust me?”

  “No,” I say immediately, then regret it instantly when I see his reaction. “What I meant was, not quite yet.”

  “Take a leap of faith with me?”

  “Funny, ha,” I say, looking between his face and hand. He waits patiently, an indefinable look in his eyes. “Fine. It’s not like I’ve got much of a choice anyway.”

  I place my hand in his, and a moment later we step off the ledge and into the abyss.

  Chapter 8

  I wake up to a terrible stench and the sound of rain. Or did I even wake up? I can’t remember falling asleep.

  “What…”

  A hand waves in front of my face and I grab it. Maro pulls me to my feet, the ground making a squelching sound as I leave its muddy embrace.

  “Travelling from circle to circle isn’t made for the living,” he says with a frown. Is that irritation or worry? It’s hard to tell. What’s easy to see though is that his glow is getting weaker. He still doesn’t look human, not with his beautiful features and his golden skin, but he’s turning less angelic the further we get. His eyes have become darker, more amber than gold.

  “I don’t suppose you have an umbrella with you?” he asks, and with my head slowly getting clearer, I finally take in our surroundings. We’re in Hell, that much is clear. Only in Hell can you find a place where mud rains from the sky and the air itself stinks of decay and rotten eggs. Already, our clothes are drenched in filthy water and my hair feels like it will need several washes to get the smell out of it.

  “What is this place?”

  “Welcome to the third circle of Hell, the home of the gluttonous. Not the most pleasant place, I know, so let’s get out of here as soon as possible.”

  I notice I’m still holding his hand, but it seems he doesn’t intend to let go anytime soon. Neither do I. His grip is warm and reassuring.

  Through the rain, I see people running in the distance, back and forth, like they get confused every few hundred yards and turn in a new direction.

  “What the hell are they doing?” I ask Maro, and he tsks at my use of the word hell.

  “Trying to protect themselves from the rain.”

  “By running around screaming?”

  He shrugs. “It’s how it’s always been. They were greedy in life, now they get too much mud thrown at them. Something like that, anyway. I don’t always understand the reasoning of the punishments, but then, it’s not my problem.”

  “Then what’s your problem?”

  “Right now?” He grins. “Answering your questions. And protecting you from him.”

  He points at something behind me and I whirl around, forgetting that I’m still clutching Maro’s hand. I drag him with me, almost stumble, but luckily his other arm sneaks around my waist and holds me in place. His touch is warm and strong, and I really don’t want him to let go.

  Why am I thinking that? I shouldn’t get attached. Attachments mean that you have things to lose. People to lose.

  “And who have we here,” a loud voice rumbles, sounding a bit like thunder. The muddy rain is making it hard to see what’s in front of me, but it looks like a house has suddenly appeared there, a house with three towers that are moving above me and…

  Something swipes towards my face and a moment later, warmth and stickiness touches my cheek.

  “Ewww!” I jump back, almost slipping in the mud, while Maro starts to laugh.

  “What the bloody fuck was that?” I scream, wiping my face, but all I’m achieving is rubbing reeking dirt all over my skin. I so need a shower. I could do with a toilet, too, but I’ve not seen anything like that so far and I’m a bit too embarrassed to ask Maro. Do angels need the loo or are they too angelic for that?

  “That was me,” the same deep voice growls, and this time when I look up, I spy three massive heads through the thick rain. Dog heads. And they’re glowing orange. Their skin is thick and almost look like scales that are glowing in a fiery mix of yellow, red and orange. Almost as if there’s fire burning beneath their skin.

  What. The. Fuck.

  “Meet Cerberus, puppy of the Underworld,” Maro said with a chuckle, ignoring the threatening growl two of the heads make (the other is licking his lips while looking straight at me).

  “Have some respect, sparrow,” the head furthest to the left huffs.

  “Respect? Of an overgrown chihuahua? Never.”

  Suddenly, all three heads lower themselves until they’re straight in front of us, staring right at Maro. I’m about to drag the angel away so he doesn’t get his head torn off, when the heads begin to laugh, an earth-shattering sound so loud that I really want to cover my ears.

  “Good to see you, old friend,” the head in the middle says with something that might be a grin. It’s hard to tell with a mouth wider than my entire body.

  “What brings you to my lovely home?”

  I can’t help it, I snicker. He’s calling this smelly mud dump lovely?

  “And what beautiful lady did you bring with you? Is she for me? Aww, you shouldn’t have.”

  Two of the heads look at me from either side, making me feel extremely self-conscious.

  “I’m not here for you,” I shout up at the heads, just to make sure they hear me.

  “You’re not? Such a pity,” the head on the right says while seemingly being very interested in my backpack. I hope he’s not looking at my arse
.

  “Stop it and come down to our level, will you?” Maro calls out, grinning widely. It looks like him and the monster dog are good friends.

  “If I must.” All three heads sigh and lift into the air again, where they’re hard to see. How big is that thing? If only the rain wasn’t there so I could see more of him.

  A growl fills the air and through the falling mud, I can just about make out the house, except that it’s not a house, it’s Cerberus’s giant body, and it’s shrinking.

  A moment later, a man appears walking towards us. A very, very attractive man, if you like broad shoulders and muscles, which I kind of do. A well-groomed beard covers his cheeks and chin, its bright orange colour reminding me of the fiery shine the dog radiated.

  Maro steps forward, only now letting go of my hand. He clasps arms with the man, then they bump their shoulders together in a weird gesture. Maybe that’s the Hell way to greet each other?

  When they end their shoulder-bumping, the man bows in front of me.

  “Fair maiden, I greet you. You have travelled far to meet me. I hope you’re not disappointed.” Then he winks, destroying the effect of his polite speech.

  “Trust me, I’m neither a maiden nor have I come to meet you. I’m here for my sister and if you don’t mind, I’d quite like to move on. We have a few circles yet to cross.”

  “Feisty, isn’t she,” he laughs, turning to Maro. “Where did you pick her up?”

  I don’t know what comes over me, but I stab my index finger into his chest.

  “Don’t talk to him like I’m not here. And he didn’t pick me up. I picked him up.” Maro frowns and I add, “Sort of.”

  The man gently takes my hand into his and pleasant shivers run over my arm. His touch is electrifying; I can feel my hairs standing up all over my body. He lowers my hand and shakes it, as if that had been my intention all along.

  "Nice to meet you. I'm Cerberus, but you might call me Berus."

  I lift an eyebrow. "Berus? I would have called you Ceb."

  He looks at me in confusion. "Why would you have a nickname for me?"

  Now it's my turn to be confused. Why would I? It was instinct, nothing more. Ceb sounds nice, right? Much better than Berus. What kind of name is that, anyway?

  I shrug, more confidently than I feel. "Ceb sounds pretty."

  He grins and looks at Maro. "She said I'm pretty."

  I pull my hand out of his grip. "I said no such thing. The name I just gave you is pretty. Not you. Definitely not you."

  "Are you saying I'm ugly?" He winks at me with the knowing expression of someone who is very aware that he's stunning. Hot. Sexy. All of that.

  I don't deign him with an answer and turn to Maro instead. "Can we leave? I don't think I can stomach the smell here for much longer."

  Maro smiles. "That's not our choice. The Gatekeeper decides whether he lets us go on, and I think you just insulted him."

  "The Gatekeeper... Cerberus?"

  The man in front of me gives me another mock bow. "The one and only. Usually, I keep sinners and demons from leaving this circle and entering the next one, so it's nice to have a maiden here for a change."

  "Not a maiden," I hiss under my breath. I don't want him to think I'm some kind of innocent damsel in distress. I used to be that, a few years ago, before everything went to pieces. Now, I'm a kickass, desperate woman on the search for her baby sister, and some three-headed sexy guard dog isn't going to stop me.

  "Ceb, Berus, whatever, could we please pass?" I ask him, trying to be nice. I even give him a smile.

  "No." He looks at me with a challenge burning in his eyes. "You're staying."

  I stare at him. I didn't expect him to say no outright. "What?"

  "You're staying for tea. Surely you're hungry? Thirsty? All those needs human have?"

  Now that he's mentioning it, I notice how my stomach is aching from hunger. I'd refused to focus on that before. Bloody hell, why did he have to mention food? And tea, the vice of any British person?

  "I need to look for my sister," I protest half-heartedly.

  "You're no use if you're exhausted," Maro says surprisingly kindly. "So far, we've been lucky and the sinners have ignored us, but if it comes to a fight, I need you at full strength. Besides, I'd quite like to get away from this stench."

  I sigh. "An hour, no longer."

  Ceb winks at me. "An hour it is, fair maiden. Follow me."

  Chapter 9

  “Is it much further?” I ask, groaning as another piece of shit-smelling mud splashes against me. I swear we’ve been walking for hours. Okay, so that might be an exaggeration, but frankly I’m done with the whole sorry mess that is this particular level of Hell. I hope Ceb’s home is at least warm, dry and not covered in shit. Plus I really, really need to use the toilet. Surely he has one? I try not to think about what I must do if he doesn’t.

  “We’ve arrived,” Ceb answers, stopping abruptly so that I slam into his back. If I thought Maro was solid, this guy, demon-dog dude, whatever, is like a bloody mountain.

  “Ow,” I howl, rubbing my cheek. It stings from the impact.

  I hear Maro snigger and I shoot him my own shut-up look which includes the middle-finger. He just chuckles some more.

  “Apologies, fair maiden, I didn’t realise you were following me so closely,” Ceb says, turning around. He makes it sound like I wanted to bang into him accidentally on purpose, which of course, I didn’t.

  “I wasn’t following you closely, I couldn’t see where I was going with all the shit and muck flying about,” I argue, feeling indignant.

  “Whatever you say, maiden,” he laughs. The rumble vibrates over my skin, then lowers somewhere else it shouldn’t. I blush and thank the Devil himself it’s so dark down here.

  Ceb reaches out a huge, manly hand and presses his fingertips against my sore cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle for one so huge.

  “It’s a little bruised already, but you’ll live to see another day…” his voice trails off as he looks over my shoulder at Maro. I’m not sure I like the look that passes between them. But rather than question it, I lean my face into his hand a little. The warmth he emits is pretty comforting actually. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been touched like that, if ever. Ceb’s fingers start to very gently massage my cheek, and the pain is gone almost instantly. Half a minute later his fingers still, but he doesn’t remove them quite yet. I open my eyes, not actually realising I had closed them, and look up at him.

  “Better?”

  More fire colours my cheeks. “Yes, thanks, Ceb,” I whisper, all kinds of snarky remarks gone from my addled brain. I need to get a grip. One touch from a handsome man and I go to pieces. First Maro, now Ceb. This is getting ridiculous. I’m in Hell, not on a eighteen-thirties holiday in Costa sodding Brava.

  “Shall we go inside then?” Maro asks, his voice tight. He pushes past Ceb and I, opening a wooden door I hadn’t noticed until now. He casts me an angry glare over his shoulder before disappearing inside.

  “What’s got his goat?”

  Ceb snatches his hand away and shrugs his shoulders. “Hell if I know.”

  I notice the ground doesn’t rumble when he blasphemes. Just me then. Perhaps it’s a perk of the job? It may well be the only one.

  Standing aside, Ceb allows me to pass, then follows me in. Maro is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he’s gone for a lie-down? He has been looking pretty peaky these last couple levels. I feel a little guilty when I realise that this can’t be much fun for him either. Perhaps I need to ease up on him a bit.

  “You coming in or not?”

  I shake my head free from thoughts of Maro, then realising it looks like I am saying no, nod frantically. Ceb laughs. “You’re a strange creature, do you know that?”

  “Coming from the three-headed man-dog,” I respond with a grumble.

  “Come on, get inside.”

  I squeeze past his bulk, careful not to touch him should I fall into another catatonic stat
e, and step over the threshold.

  “This is where you live?” I ask, astonished. I didn’t even look at the outside of his home, given the ridiculous weather and the fact that everything is so dark and muddy, but the inside isn’t what I expected at all. A warm fire is glowing in a hearth surrounded by large, granite stone. The wooden floor is weathered and worn and there is a well used, but comfortable looking sofa in the corner. Opposite is a table and chairs and a kitchen of sorts. The whole place is lit by several candles, giving it a warm, muted glow.

  “Why so surprised?” Ceb asks, as he shuts the front door. He seems to be too large for the space, but fits it so well that it doesn’t feel claustrophobic even with his hugeness.

  “I didn’t expect to see something like this in Hell…”

  Ceb shrugs. “When I’m Cerberus I live outside all the time. When I’m Berus…”

  “Ceb,” I mumble, correcting him.

  “Ceb,” he grins. “When I am Ceb, I live here. It’s tiresome being a three-headed glutton all the time. It’s good to take a break.” He perches on the edge of the table, which groans under his weight, threatening to break.

  “You get breaks in Hell?”

  “Not exactly, but the Devil can’t keep watch of all the circles all of the time, now can he? Why do you think you’ve managed to get so far without being stopped? A fair maiden like you has no business being down here.”

  “She’s not as fair as you might think,” Maro says, walking into the room. I baulk at his comment and am about to respond with something equally cutting when I notice that he has changed into a new pair of clothes; a pair of black jeans, and dark navy top. He looks suspiciously clean, and annoyingly handsome. I wonder if there’s some kind of magic shower room back there, where you can wash and change in less than a minute. Given all the things I’ve seen so far it could be a possibility I’m sure.

  “Oh, I’ve met a fair few ugly souls down here. You…” Ceb starts, then trails off giving me a funny look.

  “Ciera,” Maro offers.

  “Ciera,” Ceb smiles, my name amusing him somehow, “You, Ciera are not an ugly soul. Not as far as this old dog can tell anyway.”