Hell on Earth 1 - Hell's Belles

by Jackie Kessler

  No. Ring around the collar was bad. This could have been the end of everything. Reality check for the former succubus.

  "Got to say, babes, you're a ballsy one. Going by your name? And in a place like this? You do so love to take chances, don't you?"

  Chances, nothing. It appeared that I had a subconscious death wish. My voice tight, I said, "I live for it."

  "Yeah, speaking of that. Nice move on your part, shuffling onto the mortal coil. Very well played. Doubtful the lower-downs would consider that."

  "That was the idea." Opening my eyes, I resolved to be more careful. Chances were, the next creature of the Pit that I came across wouldn't be a friend. Mental note: If I see anything remotely Evil, get the fuck out of Dodge.

  Roman/Daun was giving me the once-over in slow motion. As much as I wanted to fall into my old flirtatious role and flash him my boobs, something inside me whispered that would be a bad idea—right up there with waving a red cape at a charging bull. So I did Bambi eyes instead of bedroom eyes, going for the whole I'm So Helpless look.

  "We go back forever, babes. I'm surprised you didn't sense me." Something flickered in his red-rimmed eyes. "Or that I didn't sense you, even with Meg's description to help me out."

  "I know," I said, aiming for charming innocence, "you thought I'd be taller."

  "Cute." He rubbed his chin, his gaze boring a hole through me. "I should've honed in on you. But even now, with you right here in front of me, I'm getting nothing."

  "You sure know how to make a girl feel special."

  Eyes locking on mine, he said, "It's more than just you doing the mortal impersonation. What's your secret, babes?"

  I should've played dumb and shrugged. I could've said something witty along the lines of, "That'd be telling." But what did I do? I pulled my amulet from under the robe's lapel. "One Shield Against Evil, courtesy of a friendly neighborhood witch."

  It had to be the rush of hormones. Or maybe the full moon.

  I couldn't have been that idiotic in real life. At the rate I was flirting with danger, I would be a contender for a Darwin Award before I could say, "Gee, is this thing loaded?"

  "Ooh, Jezzie's playing with power." Daun chuckled softly, his presence turning Roman's voice into something sexy and dangerous. "Nicely done again. A shieldstone. You're effectively cut off. Only those who know where you are could find you." His eyes flashed red, hinted of Lust. "Guess you better be nice to me."

  "Guess I better," I said, telling myself to relax. This was Daun. My bed buddy, my fuck friend. The Keymaster to my Gatekeeper. Demons didn't have siblings per se, but the incubi and succubi were as close as they came to mimicking brothers and sisters. Well, more in the incestual sense than the ancestral. Still, if there were ever a family reunion in Hell, the Seducers would all be lumped together in one huge infernal orgy. Kissing cousins, sexual siblings, what have you. If I wasn't safe around Daun, then I'd never be able to let my guard down.

  "What're you doing in Roman?" I batted my eyelashes. "Slumming?"

  "Sort of. Like I said, when a Fury gives me an order, I hop on it. Meg mentioned this club, so I checked it out for myself. Once I thought I found you, Roman here was the best body for me to test drive." He patted his chest. "Bad boy, this one. Definitely going to be a toss up whether he gets the Rack or the Bonfire when his time comes."

  "Really? He's that proud?" I tsked, shaking my head. "Would've pegged him for the Cauldron."

  "Nah, he's not that greedy. Prouder than a peacock, and definitely a mortal swayed by the evils of Lust." He grinned. "My kind of guy."

  I stood up and stretched, thinking that I should head back out, work the tables some more. "Not unless you're after a piece of ass."

  "Actually, now that you mention it…"

  Before I could blink, he was on top of me, kissing my neck, my collarbone, my breasts through my robe. His hands pressed down on my shoulders, forcing me down until my bottom touched the desktop. Nuzzling the fold of my robe with his nose, he pushed the material aside, exposing my breasts.

  "Dau—ooh." His mouth on my nipple stole my words. Arching my back, I couldn't figure out if I wanted to get away or jockey for a better position. He made the decision for me as he kissed down my belly, around the knot of my sash. Parting the satin robe, his tongue trailed down to the top of my G-string. Lifting one hand off my shoulder, he grabbed the material and yanked it off. That wasn't very hard to do, considering the undies were roughly the size of an adhesive bandage.

  "Whoa, cowboy," I said, "I'm not sure this—" I meant to finish with "—is a good idea," but then his tongue found my sex and all I could do was gasp. For a small eternity he teased my most sensitive spot, making my insides turn to mush and my flesh tingle from the roots of my hair to my toes.

  Ah! Sweet mystery of life, at last I've found thee…

  Tangling my hands in his black hair, I moaned as my hips moved beneath his head, his sloppy licks turning into precise kisses. Delicious heat pulsed through me, hinting at building into something bigger, hotter. Then he sucked between my inner lips, taking my clit into his mouth, and I threw back my head and bit my lip to keep from shrieking in pleasure as my blood caught fire.

  Oh, unholy Hell… this was beyond words. I've had sex for thousands of years. I've inspired men to leave their wives. I've sucked souls out from lips still wet with my saliva. But never, in all of my existence, had I ever felt every part of me sizzle from desire.

  Being on the other side of the whole seduction thing? Pretty fucking awesome.

  Kissing his way up my hip, my waist, the swell of my breast, his lips worked on my body.

  Ooh, me like. Me like a lot.

  His breath tickling my neck, he said, "Why don't you take that thing off?"

  My fingers worked at the knot of my sash. Crap, it was on tight. I was a dancer, not a Girl Scout; how was I supposed to untangle this?

  "Not that, babes. The stone around your neck."

  As if someone flipped a switch, my sex drive turned off and my survival sense kicked in. Spluttering and wheezing, maybe, but there all the same. Feeling goosebumps dot my arms and breasts, I said, "Why should I do that?"

  "It itches, babes."

  The wildfire in my blood flickered and died, and my heartbeat kicked out a crazy rhythm. "So go scratch."

  Calm down, I told myself. If he'd been out to hurt me, the shieldstone would've done quite a bit more than make him itch. After the magically charged peridot vaporized him, I'd have been wearing eux d'incubus.

  But if the amulet was affecting him at all, then he wasn't exactly looking out for my best interests.

  Men. Whether human or demonic, they really did think with the wrong damned head, didn't they?

  "Take it off, I can do you right." He pulled away from me enough to look at me. I saw his eyes glowing a soft red, felt his hands between my legs and how wet I was down there. "Take it off," he whispered, his finger inching inside of me, "and I'll make your body sing."

  "I don't think so." I wiggled backward, knocking stacks of paper to the floor. Clutching my robe closed, I vaulted over the side and landed on my feet behind the desk. I nearly twisted my ankle in the process; fucking heels weren't made for action shots.

  He stared at me, demonic eyes set in a human face. The smile playing from cheek to cheek held no hint of mirth. "Jezebel," he purred, "don't you trust me?"

  Fuck, no. "Sweetie, you got to learn that when a girl says no, a girl means no."

  He dropped me a sly wink. "No worries, babes. You've had a long day. I'll come back another time. Maybe you'll be more… receptive then. Oh, and Jezzie?"

  "What?"

  "You keep your mouth shut. You don't want to come back to Hell, fine. But don't go telling the mortals about the Announcement. If you do, it'll go poorly for you."

  Clenching my jaw, I said, "You threatening me, Daun?"

  The wide smile opened into a huge grin. With a hearty chuckle, he said, "Oh, babes. I'm here as your friend. Friends don't threate
n each other."

  "Then what was that, a fucking soliloquy?"

  "If that were the case, I'd still be talking about how bad it'd be for you."

  He had a point.

  "I am your friend, Jez." He spread his arms wide, as if he were taking in the small office. "But I'm also an incubus. You have to admit, seducing a one-time Seducer is an amazing opportunity."

  "If you say so."

  "I made you call my name once, when you played mortal." With a grin so evil that he must have practiced it for ages, he asked, "Want to see if I can make you do it again, now that you're not playing anymore?"

  Feeling like I was going to faint, I said, "Not particularly."

  "Wonder what would happen if a human with no soul calls my name when under my power." His eyes sparkled like broken rubies. "Wonder if you'd be bound to me until you died."

  "Wonder if I could squeeze your balls to oatmeal before you had the chance to try it."

  "You're so cute when you're nervous." He winked at me again. "Later, babes."

  His eyes flashed, and then Roman crashed to the floor.

  "Fuck me," my boss said, "did you get the name of that Mack truck?"

  I helped him to his feet. "You okay, Roman?"

  He looked at me like I'd sprouted bat's wings. Which, of course, was impossible, thanks to my amulet. "I don't know, love. What happened?"

  "I…" What did I say? Mentioning that my former brethren went all Exorcist on him probably wasn't a great way to ensure job security. "I'm not exactly sure. One minute, you were asking me about doing an act with Faith, the next—"

  "Ah." He glanced at his desk, then picked up my discarded G-string. Swinging it on his finger, a thoughtful expression crossed his face. "Love, you must be the best lay I've ever had. No one's ever made me pass out before. Not counting the time I did the thing with the belt."

  I blinked, wondering how to play this. "Roman—"

  "Shhh." He stopped playing with my panties and looked at me sharply, his gaze assessing my body like a banker did a pile of gold. "You'd mentioned that you were experienced. You like showing men a good time?"

  "Sweetie," I said before I thought better of it, "I ruin men for all other women."

  "Excellent. I have to finish up here, but let's talk more tomorrow, before we open. Come by around three. I want to hear about your previous work. Go on. And close the door behind you." He handed me my underwear, and as I took the garment, he rubbed his finger suggestively against my palm.

  Hoo-boy.

  Smiling so much that my cheeks threatened to rebel, I said, "See you, sweetie," and scooted out of the office.

  The rest of the shift passed in a blur of music, men, and money. I got back to the Hotel New York by three-thirty and collapsed on the sinfully soft king-sized bed.

  Mental note: Dancing in four-inch heels for six hours is murder on the feet.

  Staring at the insides of my eyelids, I reflected over the events of the day. Human form? Check. Additional protection again nefarious entities? Check. Job? Check. Cash?

  Hmm. Check—made about five hundred tonight. But I really should visit the bank in the morning, make sure I have a monetary buffer. To Do List, Item One: Go to bank.

  To Do List, Item One-A: Search through Caitlin's wallet to see which bank she uses.

  Let's see.

  Place to live? Er. Not so much.

  To Do List, Item Two: Find an apartment.

  Meet sexy Cabin Boy and get his phone number?

  Check, with underline and three exclamation points.

  Overall, for a first day as a mortal, I could have done a lot worse. Granted, Meg was keeping tabs on me, and Daun was sort of being creepy and seductive. But as long as I stayed in line and didn't blab about stuff I wasn't supposed to blab about, I'd be fine.

  Assuming that Meg was exaggerating about the King of Hell wanting to make an example of me, that is.

  Oh, so this is what it felt like to fret.

  Stop that, Jezebel. Don't waste time stressing over things you can't control.

  So instead I thought about Paul. With a grin on my face and one hand in my panties, I fell asleep.

  PART FOUR

  LILLITH

  Chapter 14

  Hotel New York

  .My eyes opened before I realized I was awake. For a moment, I just lay there, blinking like a drunken owl, wondering what had happened to the lovely vision of me and Paul in a tub filled with whipped cream. The real stuff, not the junk in a can.

  On the nightstand by the bed, the phone rang. I screwed my eyes shut and buried my head beneath a pillow. I didn't want real life. I wanted the yummy dream. And a few more hours of sleep.

  The phone rang again.

  Gah. Apparently, I was not a morning person.

  Somehow, my questing hand found the telephone and managed to grab the receiver. Trying to sound like I hadn't been yanked out of a solid sleep (and confectionary dream), I pulled the mouthpiece beneath the pillow and mumbled something akin to "Hll."

  "Jesse? Did I wake you?"

  Paul's voice turned the vestiges of my dream into confetti. "Heya, sweetie. That's okay. Just thought we'd be talking closer to lunchtime."

  He chuckled, and the low chuffing sound made my toes curl. Yum. "Don't know how to break it to you, but it is closer to lunchtime."

  "Than what, teatime?"

  "Actually, that's a toss up."

  I glanced at the clock radio on the other side of the bed, and then I did a double take. "That can't be right. It's really one-thirty?"

  "No."

  I let out a relieved sigh. "For a moment, I thought I was running late."

  "It's one-thirty-three."

  I bolted upright, sending the pillow halfway across the room. "AHHH! Where did the time go?"

  "Um, the Land of Nod?"

  "AHHH! Don't be witty! I'm late! I don't have time for wit!"

  "Deep breath, Jesse."

  I inhaled.

  "Now, what do you want for lunch?"

  "No idea. Coffee. Ooh, another of those muffins from the fake French bakery."

  "That's breakfast, not lunch. Tell you what: I'll swing by with some lunchables. You start doing the morning routine that women have perfected over the centuries, and I'll be by in a half hour. Sound good?"

  "I can't hear you, I'm already halfway to the shower."

  "See you soon."

  "Bye."

  I untangled myself from the bedding and dashed into the bathroom. Skidding to a halt in front of the shower, I fiddled with the nozzles and got a blast of icy cold water in my face. With a screech that rightfully should have put the Banshees out of business, I adjusted the temperature and stepped away, already stripping off my silk nightshirt and undies. A quick toilet visit and brush of teeth later, I was in the shower, lathering, rinsing, and shaving.

  Crap. Crap! Fuck!!!

  And bleeding from multiple tiny nicks.

  Mental note: Don't do my legs and bikini area when I'm in a hurry.

  Finally I shampooed, conditioned, and rinsed. Yay, all of last night's sweat and booze and smoke and sex odors were finally off of me. Just in time for me to see Paul and get my panties soaked, but hey, that's why some enterprising mortal had invented panty liners.

  Mental note, part two: Buy some panty liners.

  Out of the shower, I wrestled the dripping, tangled mass that served as my hair into a thick white towel, twisting and tucking the material so that I had my own terry cloth turban. Just as I started patting myself dry with the oversized body towel, someone knocked at my door.

  I wrapped the towel around my torso, style by way of MuMu. It wasn't for my modesty (I had none); my skin was still damp. And while it was one thing for Paul to get me moist, meeting him halfway took all the fun out of it. So, blotting dry in a fuzzy peach towel, I opened the room's door.

  Paul stood in the hallway, his leather jacket unzipped, holding a large, flat cardboard box in one arm and a paper bag in the other. I didn't know which
made me salivate more—the hidden contents of the box, or Paul dressed in a green button-up shirt, black slacks, and black boots. The shirt turned his eyes into liquid emerald; the dark pants and boots made the stubble on his cheeks and chin seem almost dangerous. His just-a-shade-too-long sandy hair kissing his ears and neck was the icing on the cake.

  Or, based on my interrupted dream, the whipped cream in my bathtub. Slurp!!!

  He grinned at me, his eyes checking out my legs briefly before locking politely onto my face. "Someone here order a pizza?"

  Stop staring at him like he was the hottest thing since Adonis.

  Uh-uh, I told myself, wondering if all mortal women had silent conversations with their psyches. He'd give Adonis an inferiority complex that would eclipse Mount Olympus.

  Oh, please. Get past the hot factor. You're a former demon. Hot for you would make suns feel chilly.

  But those eyes… !

  At least pick your jaw up off the floor and say something clever.

  I opened my mouth and said, "Hi."

  Thai's it, the little voice in my head snorted in disgust. I give up. You're hopeless.

  Paul's grin stretched wider. "So, can I come in, or do you want to eat in the hallway?"

  Stepping aside, I held the door for him to enter, the yumalicious odor trailing after. My stomach growled loud enough for Paul to laugh.

  Stupid body. Unless you start projecting "Have sex with me now" signals, shut up and leave the conversation to me.

  Right, my little voice whispered. Because you're so quick with the snappy one-liners.

  Putting the box down on the huge desk, Paul said, "I'll set up lunch while you get dressed. I think I forgot to get napkins."

  "I've got towels. If you don't mind damp, that is."

  "Used towels," he said with a grin. "You sure know how to sweep a guy off of his feet."

  Nah. If that were the case, I'd throw the towels to the floor and drip dry. "For you, only the best." I debated shucking off the peach wrappings right there, but I decided against it. My most prominent appetite of the moment was hunger… for food.