“Well, there’s always the possibility someone asks you first…”
Archer sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was too tired to deal with this, even if he was wide awake. Ever since Ryan had had his accident, Archer had been simultaneously exhausted and unable to rest. The last thing he needed was to solve some demon’s love life dilemma.
“I don’t really do parties,” he said.
“Think of it as practice,” said the demon. “For when you’re down here for good.” He stopped abruptly. “Oh, not appropriate.”
No, it wasn’t, but Archer wasn’t about to say anything. He couldn’t really judge, considering he’d just swapped his soul for a life. It was a mild thing for a demon to say, now that he thought of it. He looked the demon up and down again, seeing him in a slightly new light. Maybe there was a reason he wasn’t much good at his duties.
“What’s your name?” asked Archer.
“Kev,” said the demon, looking confused. “Short for Kevin.”
“Kevin the demon? Fuck me, I am hallucinating.”
“Shut up. I got this job three decades ago when I died and I just kept the name.” Kev glared, his eyes actually flaring like they had fire in them. Definitely a demon. “Better than being Bloodbane or Firechops or some of the other shit demons name themselves around here.”
“I’m guessing you’re not too popular,” said Archer, smiling. Kev was growing on him. A little. “You don’t want a more metal name?”
“No. Some demons keep their names.”
“Yeah, well, Bloodbane’s pretty straightforward, but your name means comely.” Archer looked Kev up and down again. Yeah, it fit. “Not sure it suits you.”
Kev looked flustered at that. He set the book down on the windowsill and tilted himself off the wall to face Archer better. When he looked Archer over again, it was with a more calculating expression.
“What,” he said.
“Comely. Handsome.”
“What’s your name, then?” asked Kev, frowning. Archer couldn’t tell if the demon was annoyed Archer had thought he didn’t know what the word meant, or Archer had dared to talk to him like that.
“Archer. Take a guess what that means.”
“Archer what?”
“No way,” said Archer, crossing his arms over his chest again. “You haven’t given me yours.”
“Doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Then my last name doesn’t, either.”
“We’re not getting along,” said Kev, and gestured toward the book. “I can send you back where I took you from.”
“I’m supposed to trust the guy who was going for a demon and ended up with a human?” Archer shook his head. “No way, Kev. I want someone else to send me home.”
Kev pulled the hair back out of his eyes again, the motion sharp. Archer watched the demon warily, wondering just how far he could push an entity of Hell. He decided he wanted all of his options before making a choice, especially if that meant Kev would get unruly at being told to bring Archer to someone more competent.
“Would I need to dance at this party?” asked Archer, relaxing some when Kev breathed out in a little half laugh.
“Not necessary. But you’d probably have to do some things you wouldn’t be proud of.” Kev grinned. “Hell is a depraved place, you know.”
“I figured that.” Archer couldn’t look at Kev, remembering his meeting with the other demon. He’d slit his wrist—across, not up—and used the blood to summon him. The demon had been huge, intimidating, but his lips when he kissed Archer’s wrist and sucked his soul out…Those had been delicate, then furious. Arousing. They’d stirred Archer so much he’d gone home and gotten off, and he still felt ashamed of it.
But it had been worth it, he told himself again. Had to be worth it.
“That scare you?” asked Kev.
Archer considered. He didn’t want to accidentally get himself into anything by agreeing too much with the demon, but Kev’s eagerness to have a date could work in his favor. Hell, after all, had something he wanted back, if he could get it.
“Why don’t you just summon the demon you wanted?” asked Archer, knowing he was getting somewhere when Kev looked away. “I can’t be that great of a date. With ten hours to go, you have the time.”
“You’re here now. Why go through more work?”
“So you can’t,” said Archer, taking a guess.
“I needed a piece of him. I had a piece of you instead. Don’t ask.”
“I’m your last hope for a date?” asked Archer, almost laughing. This was definitely too ridiculous to be a dream. “What’s in it for me?”
Kev looked at him blankly. Archer grinned. This might work out for him anyway.
“No strings attached depravity?” offered Kev.
“You were just saying that’s the price.”
“I don’t have anything to give you,” said Kev, stretching his hands to indicate the near-empty room. “I’m…kind of shit at my job. It’s commission based, I don’t take in a lot of souls…” He trailed off, eyes widening as he realized what it was Archer was about to demand. “Oh.”
“I think,” said Archer, choosing his words carefully, “I’ll agree to be your date to this party—just this one—but only if I can get my soul back.”
* * * *
Shit. Shit shit shit. Of course a human would want his soul back, Kev should have thought of that…He stared at Archer in dismay, not wanting to have to send the man back to Earth yet. He was growing on Kev, so much so that Kev already was thinking of Archer as his date. He was good looking and beyond that, when he’d told Kev to back off, delicious danger had sizzled through Kev’s veins. He liked the feel of Archer. He didn’t want to give him up yet.
But it wasn’t like Kev could just give him back his soul, either.
“I don’t have it,” said Kev, swallowing when Archer rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t say you did. I made a deal with a different demon.”
“It should have been my deal, but I showed up late,” said Kev, really regretting that. “Wish I hadn’t. Would really have loved to suck the blood from your veins.”
“Well, if that’s part of the depravity…” Archer trailed off, shrugging like he’d have to give into it if it was a requirement.
Kev’s heart raced. Shit. This was turning him on. He swallowed and bent to clear the singed bowl and candles from the floor, trying to distract himself. He couldn’t give this man back his soul. He really couldn’t. But oh, how he wanted to promise Archer he would.
“He doesn’t have it, either,” said Kev. “The other demon. Souls go into storage where they sit until their human dies. They’re brought out to summon the human, then locked away again.”
“I don’t think I understand the logistics of this,” said Archer. “If the body’s dead—”
“The soul reanimates a body form. Or something. I don’t know,” said Kev, waving a hand to dismiss the topic as he lined the candles up on a shelf. He’d never needed to learn any of this. “Does it really matter? The important thing is that while Hell holds your soul, keeps it locked up, anything can be done to it. It’s too delicate to torture directly, hence the body manifestation—”
“Where are the souls kept?” asked Archer, apparently finished with Kev’s halfassed explanation.
“First Bank of Hell.” When Archer said nothing, Kev looked over at him. One of Archer’s eyebrows was raised. Kev sighed. “That’s what it’s called.”
“How do we get in?”
Kev turned back to him. Archer was dead serious, standing there in his comedic boxers, sweating in the heat and stench of Hell. He really meant to retrieve his soul. Kev couldn’t help but think it was the most foolish, arousing thing he’d ever heard.
He licked his lips. He had to have this man for his date.
“I have a keycard,” he said. “But it only lets me access dropoff.”
“Well,” said Archer, “Good thing for you the celebrations should offer a distrac
tion, right? Does security decrease so other demons can go out and be depraved together?”
“Yes, but…If you—we—get caught…”
“What? We’ll be damned?” Archer grinned. “I’m not too worried about that.”
“Your soul could be permanently extinguished,” said Kev.
Archer stared at him for a few moments, turning that over. Kev didn’t like thinking about it. He’d only witnessed a few souls being utterly destroyed, and it was terrible. Gave him nightmares the way nothing else did in Hell. It wasn’t just torment upon a person, it was whole erasure, nothingness. There were rumors the destruction of a soul even erased anything you’d done back on Earth, which made it a punishment to be feared.
If Archer wanted to back out now, Kev thought that was reasonable. But, like he must have done when Ira showed up to make a deal, Archer took a breath and nodded.
“I understand,” he said.
“And you still want to break into the First Bank of Hell and…” Kev trailed off, shook his head. “Oh, God. You’ll take me with you.”
“You can back out if you want. I’ll just ask some other demon.”
“And let all of Hell know I’m a coward?” asked Kev. He blinked. “That came out wrong.”
Archer laughed.
“I won’t tell,” he said, then held out a hand. “Shake on it? Or do you need blood, too?”
“Are you offering blood?” asked Kev, eying Archer’s wrist.
“Not if this will do.”
Kev took Archer’s hand and shook. The human’s touch was firm, the palm sweaty. He definitely wasn’t used to the elevated heat here. Kev wondered whether he’d be able to handle the clothing he’d gotten for Ira, heavy cloak and all. He supposed there was still time to return it for something more Archer’s style.
Archer pulled away the moment the handshake got too long and tried to get comfortable on the floor again. Kev didn’t bother telling him it was useless. The stone would never be comfortable. Kev himself woke with an aching back every time he curled up to sleep in the middle of the room, away from the hot walls, had just gotten used to the pain. It was Hell. Like the stench, discomfort permeated the place.
“So, tell me about this party,” said Archer, glancing at the window. It was a dark, scarlet night still, like the clouds of stinking air were full of blood. “Is this like prom for demons?”
“What? No,” said Kev. He went to one of the doors and opened it to reveal a small closet, mostly full of human clothes. When Archer started laughing, he turned back around.
“This place sucks, but you have a fully stocked wardrobe?”
“You probably noticed the demon you made your deal with showed up in normal clothes,” said Kev. “That’s what we do. Blend in.”
“Yeah, I can tell what you are from the feel of you.” Archer paused. “You have a spare pair of pants? You look about my size.”
“Everyone dresses up for Helloween. I already have what you’re wearing.” He pulled out the black fur cloak, studded with metal rings, which he’d been figuring would prove useful if Ira had really wanted to have fun with him. Kev held it up to Archer. “What do you think?”
“I was already hot,” said Archer, but he stood and grabbed it to try it on. On Ira, it would have stopped in the middle of his legs. On Archer, the cloak fell nearly to the floor. “Does make me feel powerful.”
“Good,” said Kev, glancing away as he felt his skin heat. “Because this is for me.” He couldn’t look at Archer as he pulled out the collar and chains. He shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of a human, definitely not one like Archer, soulless and unafraid.
“I think I’m going to like this,” said Archer.
“It’s…not just an aesthetic,” said Kev, still unable to look at Archer. Kev had been looking forward to Ira dominating him, but now the unexpected with Archer was turning him on. “If we want to get through the festivities and to the First Bank of Hell, we’ll need to blend in. That means taking part in the debauchery. Authentically.”
“I can do that,” said Archer, and when Kev glanced up at him, he grinned evilly. “How well can you take orders?”
“I backed off earlier…”
“Come here,” said Archer.
Kev obeyed. He shouldn’t be so willing to follow a human’s command, but it was hot because it was so humiliating. No demon would ever. But Kev wanted to. And this was the one time of the year he could get away with it—the other demons would assume he was doing it to show off more than anything, even as they’d be disgusted. Kev knelt where Archer told him and waited while the human tightened the collar around his neck. He’d chosen a tame version, nothing with pins poking inward, nothing that irritated his skin. He’d figured he’d be abused enough at the party.
“What else do you have?” asked Archer when he was finished. “Go get it.”
Kev produced cuffs, and a leather belt of assorted gear that should have been for Ira. He hesitated when he pulled out the leather harness meant to stretch Ira’s balls, but Archer told him to bring it over with the rest of it. Archer had Kev put it on, then cuffed his wrists and ankles, but left them free.
“I have other boxers you can wear,” said Kev as he watched Archer tighten the belt around his waist. Paddle hung down one side, whip along the other.
“No way. These are my second favorite pair. I’m not losing them in Hell.”
Kev eyed the flying cheeses with deep skepticism, but Archer didn’t back down. The background was a garish purple, the cheeses orange-yellow. How Archer could stand to be seen in them was a mystery, but Kev wasn’t going to argue. They’d need a bit of stubbornness between them if they were really going to steal a soul.
“Going to argue with me?” asked Archer.
“No,” said Kev, and licked his lips.
“Good,” said Archer, and grinned.
* * * *
They sat on the fur, even though it was hot and studded with metal rings. Archer figured it had to be better than the hard stone, even if they had to sit close together. He trusted Kev a bit more than he initially did. It helped that the demon was willing to try to get Archer’s soul back, and it helped that he was enthusiastically submissive. Archer wasn’t used to being this aggressive—his love life wasn’t exactly something to boast about—but he found he was enjoying it.
“Tell me everything I need to know,” he said.
Kev gave him a brief description of the Hellrealm, the cracked ground, poisonous floating clouds, rivers of boiling water. Archer let him babble on about it, not liking the idea of actually having to end up someplace like this for all eternity. He didn’t exactly regret what he’d done, not while Ryan was alive and recovering, but he wasn’t going to pass up the chance to undo it, even if getting caught meant he was lost forever. The risk was worth it. Archer had spent enough days debating this sort of all-or-nothing question before to know he was the sort to take the chance. He snorted.
“What?” asked Kev.
“Chance in Hell,” said Archer.
Kev stared at him blankly.
“How much of this party do we have to cut through to get to the First Bank of Hell?” asked Archer.
Kev jumped up, went to a shelf, and returned folding out one of those stiff paper maps. He knelt and spread it out on the floor, then peered at it. Ink in varying shades of red traced the rivers and roads, the torture buildings and fields, and there, off one of the streets in the center of Hell, the First Bank of Hell.
“We’re here,” said Kev, pointing to a street a good two miles from Hell’s center. He began running fingers down various other streets and paths. “Helloween usually encompasses all of demon-inhabited Hell, so down these streets to the fields. There will be fire sculptures to get around, mayhem and general orgies in the streets. Blood baths, feasting, fistfights, challenges…”
“Let’s go with the most direct path. Is it going to be easier to duck through some of these buildings?”
“Maybe. It depends what sort of f
estivities are taking place…”
Archer leaned back and watched Kev frown at the map. He should let the demon send him home. Anything could—and probably would—be taking place in these streets. The question was more whether he could better trust Kev to send him back in one piece or get him to the First Bank of Hell, and Archer had to accept it seemed clear Kev would be more competent at the second.
“How am I going to trust you?” he asked before he caught himself.
Kev looked up. Sure, he was collared, but Archer figured a demon could get out of that no problem. And he had no idea how the other demons would react to him.
“I’m going to be following your orders,” said Kev.
“All of them?”
“Yeah,” said Kev, and swallowed, and looked away. “All of them.”
“What if you’re not into it?”
“What?” asked Kev, laughing. He was laughing.
Archer stared at him. It shouldn’t surprise him demons didn’t have the same concept of consent, but then Kev had backed off when Archer had told him to. He couldn’t tell what was going on.
“Screaming, ‘no,’ is part of the fun,” said Kev.
“Okay,” said Archer, “but in case you do want an out, you can use the stoplight system—”
“I’m not going to go shouting random colors where everyone can hear.”
“Then say, ‘bloody Hell,’“ snapped Archer. He half wanted to smack Kev. The demon was sitting there with a ridiculous twisted grin on his face, like Archer was being juvenile.
“Sure, but I won’t. The other demons would notice.”
“I didn’t realize peer pressure was so high in Hell,” said Archer, and talked over Kev when he opened his mouth. “Anything you’re not comfortable with?”
“I’ve already done just about everything imaginable.” Kev grinned. “I’ve been to a few of these parties.”
“If it’s all a big orgy, why do you need a date anyway?”
Kev leaned back on one hand and toyed with the chain with the other. He smiled a little, but the expression was nervous. He couldn’t make eye contact with Archer.
Date from Hell Page 2
