by Billi Jean
The list went on.
Even Torment, with his scary eyes and stern features, was someone she would never betray again.
And Aubrey, innocent-sweet and trusting Aubrey, who’d stood by her when she shouldn’t have.
A tear slipped free and rolled over her skin, hurting worse than the nails in her hands and feet. She’d wanted to do girl things with Aubrey, bar-hop, make the men all stare, go clothes shopping, stay out late and talk—all the things she wanted more of, but now would never have.
Lucifer didn’t need to lay another hand on her, or have his demons rip her apart. Her regrets were doing that.
Dogs barking cut through her misery, so out of place here in the gold and black hall, she blinked to clear her vision. By the way Lucifer spun, the sound startled him as well. She found her twinkling light again after a second of panic that it was gone forever. The way it shone so brightly, it must have been a piece of diamond. Maybe it was stuck in the marble. It was right there, trapped in hell. Like me.
She swore she heard horse’s hooves on the marble floor, then the scent of leather and horse, with the heavy aroma of fresh just rained-on forests.
“Morning Star, greetings,” a loud male voice boomed.
“Arawn,” Lucifer muttered under his breath, clearly not happy with the newcomer. Satan’s shoulders shifted and he waved the two slaves back a few steps. Both demons made to move closer but he raised a hand and they stopped.
The barking intensified until the man shouted, “Silence, hounds, sit, aye, sit a while there. Ah, I see your dogs listen a mite bit better than mine, eh?”
She thought his dogs quieted obediently, but who was she to judge? She was upside down on a cross, naked, and really, they wouldn’t care what she thought anyway. She did kind of like how the guy referred to the demons as dogs. By the sounds his were making, they had settled down on her left and behind her slightly.
“Why are you here, Arawn?” Lucifer demanded in a bored tone that even to her sounded forced.
Whoever Arawn was, he didn’t sound like a demon, and he sure didn’t greet the Lord of Lies with humility in his tone.
Lucifer stepped away from her and the other man came into view. She held her breath at his size. He was a giant, his horse just as enormous. The man had to be at least five hundred pounds, and yet as soon as she thought it, he and his horse shrank down to a normal, if still imposing, size.
Arawn. Who is Arawn?
He tossed his tawny hair away from his green eyes and grinned at Lucifer, not once glancing at her, so she was betting on him being used to seeing people crucified. He was dressed like an ancient warrior, complete with hunting bow, leather sword sheath and long cross hilted sword over his hip. Next to him were at least six white hounds with odd red ears, now sitting casually at his feet.
“Why, this woman, of course, brings me here.”
I did? Confusion joined the riot of emotions drumming through her system.
“This woman?” Lucifer demanded as if there were another woman in the room.
“She is one of mine,” Arawn answered the question but confusion tinged his response. “I wonder why you have her thus,” he said scanning her as if she was a puzzle piece he couldn’t decipher. “Is this some kind of game? To bring me here, perhaps?” he added to Lucifer.
By the sound of it, Arawn wasn’t concerned over her wellbeing, merely where she was and why she wasn’t with him.
Why would I be with him? I’ve never seen him before in my life.
Upside down it was hard to tell, but he reminded her a bit of Alrick. That could have been because of his arrogance, though.
Belong to him? I don’t belong to anyone. I never have.
“Yours?” Lucifer murmured, signaling to his slaves. Instantly the two came forward with their trays of drinks and food. “I suggest we discuss this. Wine?”
Chairs and a table appeared, elegantly carved but with designs that made her stomach tighten. She focused back on the conversation and the blinking chip of diamond. She still could see when Lucifer sat, settling in as if the man with his horse and dogs was a guest, discussing the latest scientific theory, not her life—or more accurately her death—right in front of her.
“Nay, I did not come to drink with you, man. This woman is mine. Her soul, now that she is dead, is mine, you ken?” he growled, settling his fists on his hips.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Lucifer said, frowning almost thoughtfully. It was as though they were discussing the properties of gravity for the first time in the history of mankind, not her life, or eventual death. “She is here. She is mine.”
She wholeheartedly agreed with the ‘here’ part, but she had issues with being his.
“She isnae yours, and ya know it,” Arawn said wearily. It was clear that he’d had this argument with Satan before.
“She is Celtic? She worships the Three?”
“Aye,” Arawn confirmed with a nod. He sat, folding his leg over his knee, and took the wine after all.
Of course, get comfortable. It isn’t like I’m hanging around doing nothing. I’m bleeding on the floor, but that’s nothing new. Now being a Celt, that’s new.
“She is of the blood. This you know,” he continued, clearly not in tune with her innermost thoughts. He gave Lucifer a hard frown before his sipped his wine. “But you and I both know she does not have to pray to the Three to earn my attention when her soul leaves her dead flesh. I am Lord of the Dead, for all who are of the blood, and I will suffer no one stealing what is mine.”
“Stealing?” Lucifer appeared shocked. “I assure you, Arawn, stealing is not my style. This girl owes me, and how would I know she has ties to you through her blood? Besides which, we both know that kind of claim is ancient.”
“Aye, as am I. As are you. But blood still holds true. I own her. Every inch of her is mine to do with as I will,” Arawn said. “I rule Annwn. I alone am the master of my domain. This woman,” he said, pointing at her with a stern expression, “belongs to me. No matter her oaths when she walked the Earth, now with her death, she is mine.”
“Ah, I see.” Lucifer reclined in his chair, sighing thoughtfully. “So her oath to me means nothing?”
Arawn brushed Lucifer’s question aside like one would a bothersome fly. “An oath you had no business taking. You kenned she was of our blood when you took her false oath. Don’t lie to me, Lord of Lies. I know every member of my race, down to the unborn in their mother’s wombs. You”—he pointed his wine goblet at Lucifer and took a slice of cheese—“knew, and aye, gambled by taking her oath.”
After chewing his bite, he took another sip of wine, before he set the goblet on the table, nodding as if Satan had said something.
“Aye, I would say she did her best to fulfill each change you made to the bargain besides, until she refused you in the end, but friendship oftentimes wins out over threats,” he said conversationally. “At least, I’ve always found it so.” He paused to eat another slice of cheese then went on. “Not that you have forgiven her. Nay, I see you have not. But she is still one of our blood, and thus, mine.” With that educational and frightening speech, Arawn finished his cheese and made an appreciative sound. “Good this, did you have it brought in?”
“Yes. It’s Comté, the finest. I have a cheesemaker in the Jura Mountains. Nice floral notes, don’t you think?”
“Yes, very nice, bold and good with the red,” Arawn responded, as if he was at a wine tasting, not at her execution—or whatever this was.
“I’m glad you like it. Here.” Lucifer gestured to Arawn’s wine goblet. “Now,” he said, pouring the man—or possibly god—more red wine. “Her blood. So you feel ownership over her because of blood ties.”
Arawn laughed—not a laugh as much as a loud, boisterous chortle. “Aye, of course. The scent of her blood on your floor did not alert you that she was mine?”
“I have many souls. Blood, to me, is simply blood.”
“Aye? It that so? Well, it is no�
� so with me. Every drop counts. Every drop is precious and thus needs to be accounted for. Besides,” he tipped his goblet at Lucifer as if making a point with it. “Have you not been repaid a hundredfold for what little she gained from your bargain?”
Lucifer leaped to his feet. In an instant he grew enormous and became a glowing angel. He shone so brightly that Hunter had to shut her eyes as he flared his white wings wide. Some pictured him with dark, black wings, but in this form, which she was happy to say she’d only seen once before, he stunned. He was too astonishing to gaze upon. But beauty often hid evil, she’d learned.
In a booming voice, he thundered, “She lost me a nation! Because of her—” He paused and something horrifying and heavy sounded as though it hit the marble pillars holding up the ceiling—and holding her cross upright. Her body trembled from the shock of the vibration through the hall.
She held her breath, anticipating falling to the floor.
“She will never repay what I have lost!”
“Nay, she will no’ because she will be with me!” Arawn roared. By the sound of him, he’d returned to his enormous size as well.
She squeezed her eyes tighter, too terrified to watch as they battled it out over who got dibs to her afterlife torture.
“Impossible! She is mine! I found her. To me she owes oaths! She will repay those debts!”
“She willnae. To me she belongs, and to you, I can say nothing but watch that you dinnae meddle in what is mine again!”
“You think to warn me? To advise me?” Lucifer’s deafening shout shot pain through her ears, making her cry out in both terror and pain.
“I willnae advise you, nor will I warn you. No’ again. Take your cull from your mindless masses and be grateful that you own so many of the damned.”
Maybe I’ll be squashed by mistake in their battle. If I die again, will I come back? Surely I did some good out there. I mean, if I die again, can I please go up, not down?
“Happy?” Lucifer cried. “Happy? She was mine and now you will take her and what? Allow her to live in your lands, at her ease, while I suffer from my loss without any justice?”
Arawn snorted. “Justice? What is it you wish from me?”
At the question, some of the tension seemed to ease from the room, enough at least that she peeked open one eye carefully.
Lucifer was still in his angel form, his wings silvery white, but not glowing as brightly as she knew he could. Arawn had his sword out and stood as tall as the fallen angel. Both were enormous. Their bodies filled out with hard, punishing muscles.
“Revenge. I wish revenge.” Lucifer lifted his chin to regard Arawn regally. “She made a pact with me and broke it. She does not deserve to set foot in your kingdom.”
Hunter shivered.
Arawn sheathed his sword then regarded Lucifer with a cocked eyebrow and deep frown. After only a moment or two, he shifted his dark green eyes to her. The nails holding her to the cross pulled free from her feet and hands. The cold marble floor knocked the breath out of her lungs. She gasped, then choked. A tickle shivered over her scalp, then the weight of her blonde hair returned to her head. A second later she was dragged to stand. Her weight pushed on her punctured feet and she nearly fell. The grip tightened—a clear warning that she’d better stay upright.
“Revenge. Is this not enough?” he asked and shook her by her hair at Lucifer. With a disgusted snort, he released her. She stood, hurting, but she stayed upright. Her back burned. She’d not registered it before, but now it filled each breath with agony. She’d been flogged, she assumed, glad to know she’d missed the event.
“I wish revenge, for her to pay, repeatedly, for what she has promised and failed to deliver to me,” Lucifer snarled. “She does not deserve paradise. She deserves to suffer.”
Lies. All of it, but he was lord of them.
She had made an oath to him—or one of his creatures—in exchange for control over her powers. She’d traded her soul to the devil in exchange for her stepsister’s life—or the control of her gifts that would allow her to save Margaret. She could still taste the chill of the winter air, still feel the ice under her knees, as she begged for her sister’s life back.
She shut that line of thinking and kept her head down as her life—or death—was decided. Her mistake had been long ago now, and better left in the past where it belonged. No one had forced her hand. No one had made her sell her soul to Satan. Her cowardice and lack of intelligence had.
“And? What did you have in mind?” Arawn finally asked.
Lucifer said, “I want her to live again.”
At that she nearly glanced at him, but quickly stilled the urge. No. She couldn’t live again, spy again and hurt her friends again. That’s what he would want. She’d not do it.
“If so, she will not be yours to use,” Arawn warned.
Lucifer didn’t speak for so long she worried he was coming up with something truly horrible.
“Of course, I can see that. I don’t want her to. But I also don’t want her to go unscathed. She shouldn’t be accepted by anyone,” Lucifer went on, sounding thrilled. “The mark of Cain, I think, will provide her with enough misery to atone for the wrongs she’s inflicted upon me—or at least start to.”
Wrongs I’ve inflicted upon him?
Arawn lifted her chin with his hand and until she met his eyes. She fought to keep her expression clear of hatred. Satan hadn’t suffered from anything she’d done or not done. He tried to force people to worship him. She never had and never would. Neither would the Fire Realm. Not now.
“’Tis a shame to waste such beauty, but a mark, eh? I do not like the mark of Cain,” he said disdainfully. “She can wear a mark and walk again among the mortal world with it for all to see,” Arawn murmured. “Will that appease you?” he asked, but went on to add, “But I warn you, she is mine, and as such, she will be given one chance to earn a reprieve from your revenge, perhaps even gain her own on you, with her happiness. If she does, you cannae touch her. If you do, I shall no’ be pleased, eh?”
Lucifer threw his arms up. “You wish to give the bitch an out.”
“I wish to give a woman,” he stressed, “who if you recall sacrificed herself for another, a chance. The false oath you gained from her should make her bargain null, but you were no’ satisfied with that, were you? So you sought more and more. Aye, I believe she failed you, I believe you lost a great deal, and thus I offer you this alternative. If you dinnae agree, she simply comes with me and we have done.”
Lucifer paced away then back with an angry step. “But she will be marked? Disfigured? What is the out?”
“Do no’ worry. It will be nigh impossible for her, so her misery will continue for an eternity without limits. She will no’ only walk among the living. She will become immortal if she cannae find someone to break her curse.”
Hunter shivered, fear making her skin crawl.
“Her friends already do no’ have faith in her. No one that meets her for the first time will trust her, for who wishes near such a disfigured soul? Beauty is valued, cherished even. Her suffering will only grow worse. Does this appease you?”
Hunter whimpered and would have fallen to her knees if something, maybe her spine, hadn’t stiffened.
My friends don’t trust me?
The pain of that thought ripped a tear from her. The huge warrior held her gaze as if he’d spelled her. He brushed the tear off with his thumb, studied it in the light of Lucifer’s fire, then her. There was no compassion there, no forgiveness, either.
Why should there be?
Celts, that was Sorcha and Trouble—the Jade Coven—not her. Why would he care that she’d tried her best to walk the razor’s edge to keep her friends safe?
What friends? You betrayed them.
She swallowed, not sure why in death such a thought hurt when her entire body ached with the pain of being crucified and whipped.
“Do it and I will call my bargain done,” Lucifer said.
Ar
awn’s eyes flashed a bright golden green, and suddenly Lucifer’s, and even Koko’s evil punishments—his sick demon laughter and disgusting touch, along with every foul thing she’d been forced to do—faded to a distant nightmare as Arawn’s gaze overtook her world.
“Do you know who I am, woman?”
She shook her head, too terrified to speak.
“I am Arawn, Lord of Annwn, keeper of death, revenge and war. If you had been raised properly, you would have been taught who I am, and why I have power over you now that you no longer walk among the living.” His tone was so fierce her trembling increased until her teeth rattled. “But that ignorance will no’ shelter you now.”
She wished she could step back from him, but he held her, and even her legs wouldn’t respond.
“You have made an oath that you should never have been given.”
She swallowed. The way he said that made her feel as if he was speaking some judgment on her, rather than stating the obvious.
“That oath is no’ easily broken in life, but, no longer binds you in your death. You are mine. You will remain so for as long as I wish it, until your misery is so great you beg for what I can offer you in Annwn. But know this, woman,” he said sternly. “You will no’ gain my lands without much suffering and sacrifice. A true warrior would give all for his comrades —even life, if it would save them from harm.”
He let that settle in, and since she couldn’t think of what to say, she didn’t say anything at all. Had she not given her life? Did she not stand here in hell because she had given everything to save her friends?
Arawn’s eyes were too frightening for her to say any of that, though. His gaze grew sterner. All she could do was stare into the bright, swirling orbs and wait for whatever punishment he thought up.
Surprising her, his severe expression softened slightly. “But I am no’ here to announce your doom. You will be given another chance—one that will allow you your own revenge if you have the courage to reach for it.”
