When she’d asked Zee about it, the fae girl had shaken her head. “That’s Kester for you. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am. It’s how he operates.”
But that didn’t explain it at all. She and Kester had neither whammed nor bammed. Sure, she’d thought about it. How could she not, given his chiseled beauty? But nothing had happened…yet.
And meanwhile, she’d been missing a mentor. Kester was supposed to teach her how to become a hellhound, but there’d been no magic lessons, no practice sessions in the armory to build her skill. In the last six months, she’d learned virtually nothing new about the job.
Sure, she’d kept busy in other ways. There was the mob boss assignment in Hell’s Kitchen—a first-rate wanker who’d been forcing his thugs to sign over their souls. Ursula had been tasked with hunting down each of the Mafiosi.
Because they’d signed over their souls involuntarily, her task had been to nullify pacts. She’d thought it’d be easy—who actually wanted to burn in the Emerazel’s inferno for eternity? But once the Mafiosi had tasted Emerazel’s power, they seemed to stop caring about eternal damnation. She’d been forced to reap more of their souls than she cared to think about. It had been brutal work, but at least she’d filled a good number of pages in her ledger.
And each page was another step toward freedom. Once she managed to fill her ledger, it was goodbye to the hellhound life.
She took another sip of wine, pushing her worries about the ledger to the back of her mind. Right now, she had more immediate concerns. After the dragon attack and the near-drowning with the Forgotten Ones, exhaustion burned her muscles. She propped her wine against the base of the sofa, then leaned back into the velvet. She pulled a soft, white blanket over her body, staring through the window at a perfect view of Nyxobas’s palace.
The sharp spire glimmered like a shard of glass. And as her eyelids drooped, dark clouds seemed to whirl around its summit.
Chapter 6
“Ursula.” Someone tapped her shoulder.
“Mmgghhft,” Ursula groaned, opening her eyes. Cera stood above her. It was still dark outside. Maybe it was always dark here? She still wasn’t quite sure how that worked. She pushed up onto her elbows, blinking to clear her mind. “What’s going on?”
“You need to wake up. You’re to meet the lord in fifteen minutes.”
“I don’t understand. What time is it?”
“Almost eight p.m. Earth time. You slept all day. You need to get dressed.”
“But I don’t have any clothes to wear.” Ursula’s brain was slowly turning on. “I’m supposed to meet Nyxobas now?” Cera held up a white bag. “I brought you a dress. I’m not entirely familiar with Earthly fashions, but I based it on that gold gown I saw in the picture in your apartment.”
She straightened. “The Francesco Sforza dress? With the ribbons?”
“Not quite as revealing as that one, but the same idea. The women in Nyxobas’s kingdom don’t show off their flesh quite so wantonly as Emerazel’s women do.” She shook her head. “No respect for yourselves.”
Ursula frowned. She hadn’t been a fan of the ribbon dress, but there was no need for slut-shaming. “There’s nothing wrong with female bodies, you know. Or showing them off.”
Cera’s silver eyes narrowed. “You’ll need to adapt to the culture here. I know incubi and vampires flout Nyxobas’s rules on Earth, indulging in all sorts of heresies, but you’re in the Shadow Realm now.” She thrust the bag at Ursula. “Nyxobas believes in denial of bodily urges in order to reach heavenly perfection.”
“Right.” Ursula peered inside the bag. A lilac dress nestled next to silver shoes and a bag of toiletries.
She stood, then pulled the dress from the bag—an exquisitely delicate fabric that shimmered in the candlelight. She stood, holding it up. It certainly had more fabric than the Sforza dress. This one reached the floor, but it still featured a plunging neckline and tiny shoulder straps. The fabric was practically sheer, but gathered enough around the skirts that she wouldn’t be showing too much off.
“Wow,” she breathed. “It’s gorgeous. Where did you get it?”
Cera’s chest seemed to swell. “I sewed it. There aren’t any designer shops here, so if you want a pretty dress, you have to make it yourself. I’m glad you can recognize fine craftsmanship when you see it.” She beamed. “There’s underwear in the bag. I figured a hellhound would like the skimpy kind.” She sniffed.
Ursula peered in the bag at a pale blue thong. “Thanks, Cera.” Weird as it was to get thongs from a stranger, it was actually very nice of the oneiroi to try to choose things she thought Ursula would like.
“Perhaps you’d like to go into the bathroom to try it on,” prompted Cera.
“Sure.” Apparently, Cera was horrified by the idea that Ursula might strip right here, even though the demon had already seen her completely naked.
“And while you’re at it,” Cera called out, “you may as well bathe and beautify yourself for the lord. It will help him warm to you, I’m sure. There are toiletries in the bag.”
Ursula frowned. “When you say ‘lord,’ are you talking about Nyxobas?”
“Honestly, child.” Cera chastised her as though it were the most absurd question in the world. “Clean yourself up. You mustn’t displease him.”
Sighing, Ursula carried the bag into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. A lantern bathed the bathroom in warm light. So, she had to make herself look good for her lord. Whoever he was, she was apparently at risk of provoking his wrath with her bedraggled appearance. This was just getting weirder by the minute. Still, she wasn’t going to argue. Makeup was its own armor, and one that made her feel like herself. A war paint of sorts.
Ursula untied her robe, hanging it from a hook on the back of the door.
She crossed to the claw-foot tub, turning a silver knob and letting the bath fill with water. Stepping into the warm bath, she grabbed a bar of floral soap. Steam curled from the water, filling the room with the scent of lavender and mint. Around the bath’s rim, candles flickered, casting dancing light over the gray tile. She lathered under her arms, and ran her fingers over her neck to clean up the grime. The water felt soothing over her skin, and she splashed warm water over her shoulders, rinsing off the soap.
She might not understand why she’d been called to the night realm, but she knew Nyxobas had good reason to hate her. She’d forced the high demon Bael, Nyxobas’s general, and his second in command, into signing his soul over to Emerazel. A twinge of guilt pierced her chest. Nyxobas had probably ordered Bael’s death since then. She didn’t imagine the god of night would forgive a tactical failure of that magnitude.
Her stomach tightened. And if Nyxobas hadn’t ordered Bael’s death, the high demon would probably rip her limb from limb. She’d completely destroyed his plans to take over the Shadow Kingdom.
A knock sounded at the door. “Don’t take too long in there,” Cera cautioned. “We mustn’t keep the lord waiting.”
Ursula rolled her eyes. Whoever “the lord” was, he sounded like a real prick.
After a final scrub of her legs, she rose, feeling the soapy water drip off her skin. She unplugged the drain and stepped from the tub, grabbing a towel. Goosebumps rose on her bare skin as she dried off.
Cera banged the door again. “You really don’t want to make him angry.”
Ursula tried to ignore the demon’s frantic knocking. Peering into the bag, she grabbed the tiny blue underwear and slipped into it. Somehow, it fit her perfectly. Probably precisely because Cera had seen her totally naked and was able to gauge her exact measurements. No bra, I see.
She grabbed the dress from the bag and pulled it over her head. The silky fabric skimmed luxuriously over her breasts, hips, and thighs before reaching the floor.
Her gazed flicked to the mirror, and a smile curled her lips. The neckline plunged to her belly button. Braless and with a daring neckline, she was exposing a little more than she normally would. But she had ju
st proclaimed the importance of pride in one’s body, and she wasn’t going back on it now. Plus, she looked damn good.
She slipped into the silver heels, then turned to study her reflection again. She ran her fingers through her auburn waves, trying to tame them into submission. She had to admit—the red of her hair looked stunning against the cool tones of the dress. Cera might be cranky, but the demon was a genius with a needle and thread.
She leaned over, picking up the makeup page to unzip it. As Cera continued to hammer on the door, she lined her eyes with black, rouged her cheeks, and slicked her lips with a rather stunning shade of cherry red. A dusting of shimmery white powder over her cheekbones was the final touch.
If the lord could be mollified by makeup and dresses, she was certain this ensemble would do the trick.
She pulled open the bathroom door into the living room.
Cera beamed at her. Clearly, the woman was proud of her work. “The lord may have a bit of a shock when he sees you. But dark god above, it is gorgeous.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to offend the lord with a poor dress choice.”
Cera nodded enthusiastically, apparently missing her sarcasm. “Oh yes. Very true. Now, we must go.” She looked at the clock, visibly shuddering. “I don’t want to anger him,” she muttered, turning to hurry for the door. “Please come with me.”
Sharp claws of panic gripped her chest. She’d left her only weapon in the bathroom. “Wait,” she said. “I need to wee.”
“Not now!” scolded Cera.
Ignoring her, Ursula ran back to the bathroom. She gripped the robe, yanking the corkscrew from its pocket. She swallowed hard. Where the hell am I supposed to hide it in this outfit?
She didn’t have much of a choice. It was going in her thong or it wasn’t coming at all. Suddenly, she was no longer so keen on the dress’s sheer fabric. She hoisted up her skirt, tucking the corkscrew into the front of her knickers, pointy side up. She didn’t want the sharp bit doing any damage to the most delicate parts of her body.
“Hurry up!” Cera wailed.
Ursula smoothed out her hair, pulling open the bathroom door into the living room. She hoped her facial expression conveyed some sense of normality—as opposed to, “I’ve just shoved a corkscrew in my knickers, and I’m trying not to hurt myself.” Plastering a smile onto her face, she followed Cera through the hall and out the front door, trying not to look over the bridge’s railings. She didn’t need her stomach turning any more flips than it already was. Plus, vertigo and heels seemed like a bad combination.
This time, when they entered the lion atrium, Cera led her across the tiles. The demon climbed the stairs, pausing at the onyx door.
Ursula frowned. “Is this all part of the same manor?”
“Yes. You’re about to meet the lord who owns your apartments. He will have control over every aspect of your life for the next six months. So you understand why this is important to get right.”
She hugged herself. And if it all goes to shit, I’ll just fight him with the corkscrew in my knickers. Top planning, Ursula. You’ve really outdone yourself.
At the top of the stairs, Cera flicked her fingers. The heavy onyx door creaked open, revealing a tunnel.
Cera held out her hand, gesturing for Ursula to enter. “Go along. The lord is waiting for you.”
“You’re not coming?” said Ursula, her skin growing cold. With a growing sense of dread, she climbed the steps.
“No. He wants to meet with you alone.”
The hair rose on the back of her neck. “Can you at least tell me who I’m meeting? Is it Nyxobas? Or Abrax?”
Cera frowned. “I’m not at liberty to say. He’s a lord. I’m not allowed to call him by any other name, and I’m certainly not going to defy him. Everyone here knows their place, and if you’re smart, you will, too. Your life depends entirely on the lord.” The little demon backed down the stairs, her milky skin a shade paler than normal. “You’re going to be late. You need to go.”
Ursula folded her arms, reluctant to plunge into the dark hall without knowing what she was getting into.
She watched Cera hurry across the tile, turning to Ursula one last time before pulling open the door. “Good luck.” She disappeared through the door, leaving Ursula entirely alone.
Cold dread bloomed in Ursula’s chest. Well, it’s not like I can run away from whoever this lord is. She was going to be in the Shadow Realm for six months, living in his house. She was going to meet him one way or another. She turned, taking a tentative step into the tunnel. Candles flickered in sconces, their dim light wavering over rocky walls. The tunnel seemed to be carved from a cliff of the moon crater itself.
Hugging herself, Ursula strained her ears for any sound, but she heard only deathly silence.
She walked further into the hall, trying to soften her footsteps on the smooth stone as much as possible. She considered pulling the corkscrew from her knickers, but decided against it. It was too big to hide in her palm, and clearly showing up armed to meet “the lord” would be a major breach of protocol. Still, the bulky feel of sharp metal in her thong was oddly reassuring—a thought she’d never before imagined would cross her mind.
Of course, she never imagined she’d be going to meet a demon on the moon, before.
Goosebumps rose on her skin, and she made her way deeper into the tunnel. Unlike the hard lines and cold steel of the exterior rooms, this part of the manor seemed ancient. Twisting patterns and faded runes adorned the jagged walls. The light changed subtly as she walked, and she glanced down. The illumination no longer came from candles. Instead, glowing mushrooms grew along the floor’s edge, and the tarry creosote smell gave way to something earthy and alive.
Ahead of her, the tunnel opened into a large chamber, and a path curved between gray boulders. As she stepped into the hall, her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t so much a chamber as a vast cavern. Huge stalactites hung from the ceiling, their surfaces encrusted with glowing mushrooms.
The path led through the cavern to a thin, stone bridge suspended between two cliffs. No rails, no sides. Just a narrow strip of stone over a vast chasm. Tentatively, she approached the edge. She stepped onto the bridge, her gaze briefly flicking to the stark blackness, the sheer rocky drop into a bottomless abyss.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. Maybe this is why Cera wanted to stay behind.
A cold sweat beaded on her forehead, and she took another step forward in her tall heels. No turning back now. A deathly silence hung in the air, broken only by the clacking of her stupid heels over the stone.
If there had ever been a time for running shoes, it was now.
She pulled her gaze away from the abyss, glancing at the ceiling. Bioluminescent mushrooms nestled among glowing indigo crystals. The fungi light refracted through the crystals, bathing the bridge in an otherworldly violet light.
She glanced at the bridge again, so she wouldn’t lose her footing, and her gaze trailed to the abyss. The darkness seemed to beckon her forward, luring her off the bridge. Her stomach swooped, and a strange sort of terror bloomed in the back of her mind. She wasn’t afraid she would fall.
She was afraid she would jump.
She blinked, clearing the disturbing thought from her head. I’ll face forward then, won’t I? A few more careful steps, staring straight ahead, and she cleared the final bit of the bridge, stepping onto a rocky platform. The temperature in this cavern seemed ten degrees cooler than the rest of the hall. She crossed her arms in front of her. She didn’t need “the lord” seeing just how cold she was.
After a few more paces, she paused, her heart skipping a beat.
At the far end sat a figure in a jet-black throne, cloaked in shadows.
Night magic curled in front of the lord’s features, moving like seaweed caught in an invisible current. He exuded power. And pure menace. Here, in front of the lord, the void called to her. That vast abyss, just a few steps away, beckoned her closer, tempting her to jump.<
br />
This was no simple demon’s power. This was a god, ancient and wrathful. Nyxobas.
It had been a mistake to come here. As if a corkscrew could protect her from this dark hell.
“Ursula.” The lord’s rough voice boomed through the hall, echoing off the rock.
Fear twisted her gut. She concentrated on straightening her spine. Kester had taught her not to show fear to a demon or god. It only brought out their primal instincts, and the next thing you knew, they were pinning you to the ground, teeth at your throat.
“Why have you brought me here?” She worked to steady her voice.
“You think I wanted one of Emerazel’s dogs here? Like I had any choice in the matter?” His rage thinned the air.
Despite everything she’d learned about showing confidence, she took an involuntary step back.
“I don’t understand.” She was trying to make sense of his words. Nyxobas had struck a deal with Emerazel—he’d been a willing part of the bargain. She was supposed to stay with him for six months of every year. “If you didn’t want me, why did you make a deal with Emerazel?”
Silence descended on the cavern. Tendrils of black magic gathered around him, undulating from his powerful body like serpents. “You are mistaken,” he said at last, rising from the swirling darkness.
Violet light washed over pale eyes, chiseled features, and a body of pure, thickly corded muscle.
Ursula choked down a scream. Bael. So that was the lord Cera had been talking about. She’d been scared of Nyxobas, but this might be worse. She’d seen him fight, and right now, she could feel his raw power rippling over her skin. Once a demon like Bael decided you were his enemy, that was it. You were dead.
Shadows & Flame Complete Boxed Set: Demons of Fire and Night Novels Page 26
