by Tara West
I centered my gaze on the pouting demon head as it hung by its matted hair from Jack’s dripping fangs. “Take me to the red dragon, and you can have your body.”
And I will have my revenge.
I have saved his worthless head too many times to count, and for what? So he could betray me again! This time I will spare my backstabbing brother no mercy.
Ash
“No! No! No!”
Callum’s screams woke me from a fitful sleep. I jolted upright, rubbing my eyes as I squinted in his direction. Even through the dim light, I could see his arms and legs flailing as his body tossed from side to side.
“I will not touch you. I will not!” he hollered.
I climbed out of bed, slipping on my underwear and jeans before padding across the warm stone floor. Kneeling beside him, I carefully shook his shoulder. “Callum, wake up.”
His eyes shot open. “Get your hands off me, woman.” He swatted my arm away with a menacing growl. “I will not betray my brother again!”
Oh, boy. Didn’t I feel like a ten-pound bucket of shit for my behavior earlier. My inability to keep my inner-slut under control had led to Callum’s nightmare. I licked my parched lips and made a vow right then and there to never drink another drop of hormone water again, no matter how hot and dry this stink hole made my mouth.
“Callum, it’s okay. I’m not trying to have sex with you. Please wake up,” I pleaded.
His eyes glazed over, his jaw dropping in a dazed expression. “Mar? Is that you?”
Mar? Really? He had to have been dreaming. “It’s me, Ash.” I squeezed his hand and flashed my best sisterly smile.
A single tear slid down his cheek as his lower lip quivered. “She made me betray my brother. What do I do?”
Holy heck, my heart was breaking. Was this Callum’s penance every night? To dream again and again he was betraying Aedan? If I had been in his shoes, I would have gone insane after the first few nights, let alone over a hundred years. I squeezed his hand harder, hoping the pressure would force him to wake up. “Callum, you’re dreaming.”
“This is no dream. This is a nightmare. God has forsaken me,” he cried as he tossed from side to side, twisting the furs off his body and exposing the raw wound from earlier that night.
I looked at the swollen flesh around the laceration and at the puss oozing out of it. Crap. It was infected. Big time. I didn’t know if he had enough Devil’s whiskey to treat that wound.
I grabbed the jug off the floor and uncorked the top.
“Callum, hold still,” I pleaded before carefully pouring it on the cut.
He responded with a shout that rattled my eardrums. I leaned back as he blew out a raging inferno, singeing the hairs on my arms and causing me to break out in a sweat.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I leaned over him and examined the wound. More ooze bubbled from it as it puckered like a puss-filled volcano. Gross. “I think it’s infected.”
“No, no.” He closed his eyes and fell back against the furs with a deflated sigh. “Poison.”
“Poison?” Who would poison him? There was no telling how many enemies Callum had made in Hell. “Who did this?”
“I did,” a low, dark voice hissed.
I spun around, fluttering to my feet. Shadow was standing behind us, along with several other demons, some of whom I recognized as part of Callum’s pack. So much for loyalty. No wonder I hadn’t heard an alarm.
But there was one demon in particular who stood out among the rest. He had to have been seven feet tall with ebony skin, a broad, muscular chest, strong jaw, and glowing orange eyes that reminded me of a hungry tiger. He would have been handsome if he hadn’t looked so creepy. He also had six (yes, six) arms growing out of his sides, and a long rusty chain hanging down his neck. At the end of that chain was a shining silver key.
“Scorpius, the Gatekeeper,” Callum had called him, and this must be the key to my freedom.
But the most imposing thing about this demon was his black skeletal tail, curling above his head and nearly scraping the ceiling of the cavern. It reminded me of a lobster appendage with a sharp point, only I didn’t think he’d taste as good, even with a little warm butter. He looked like a badass, venomous scorpion who had crossed paths with Satan himself.
His tail rattled like a snake’s as he strode forward with a confident swagger, the other demons falling in behind him, bowing their heads. “Your lover was a fool to fight my blood slave.” He spoke with a thick Jamaican accent, motioning toward Shadow, who looked back at his master with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. “A blade infected with my venom usually kills its victim within minutes, but Dragon has a thick skin and a hard head.”
He approached, looking down at Callum as his full lips pulled back in a wide smile, revealing a face full of dagger-like teeth. “Still, I’m surprised he’s lasted this long.” His tone was much too jovial, reminding me of that television guy telling me to “Come to Jamaica, mon,” but somehow I got the feeling a vacation with this demon wouldn’t “feel all right.”
Keeping a wary gaze on his tail, I fluttered back as fear twisted a knot in my gut. “What’s going to happen to him?”
“He’ll die a second death, and a third, and a fourth.” He pointed a long finger toward the ground. “Scorpion demon blood stays with its victims for several dimensions.”
I clenched my hands together as energy raced through my veins. I felt the magic balling up in my palms like twin fire explosions ready to knock the demon to the ground. “Bastard,” I cried.
He leaned toward me, his gigantic tail rattling between us, venom dripping off the tip. “What was that?” he asked with a challenging gleam in his animalistic gaze.
My confidence waned as the power drained from my hands. I tilted my chin, matching the wicked gleam in his eyes with a glare of my own, trying my best to ignore the poisonous blade that rattled in my face. “You heard me.”
I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he scared me, even though on a scale of one to ten, his creep factor was an explosive shit-your-pants-eleven.
His tail bobbed in front of me, coming within inches of my shoulder and nearly scraping my nose. “You’ll have to play nice if you want me to give him the anti-venom.”
“There’s an anti-venom?” I rasped. My voice sounded small and scared. I’m sure the demon took satisfaction in my crumbling courage.
His low, ominous chuckle snaked across my senses as he crossed all six arms in front of him. “Of course.”
“Where?” It sounded as if someone else was talking for me, and I was just one, scared-shitless girl inside the shell of a woman who used to be mouthy and brave.
He turned to Callum, who was now lying prone on the floor, his face as pale as a sheet. I gasped when I saw the lifelessness in his vacant eyes. Had he already died a second death? Was he somewhere in the bowels of level two?
I cringed as Scorpius hocked up a loogie, a long trail of spit dangling from his lip as it stretched toward Callum before dropping in a puddle on his infected flesh. My eyes widened as the spit crackled and popped, much like the cereal only not as appetizing.
“That ought to be enough to hold him… for now.” When he turned back to me, cupping my face in one of his leathery palms, an icy chill raced across my spine. “I will give him more later, but only if my little fallen angel agrees to play nice.” His warning was a sibilant hiss that crawled beneath my skin.
I tried to push him away, but he wrapped all of his arms around me, grabbing the back of my neck and pulling me toward his massive chest. I swore I could feel venom from his touch infecting me. I didn’t think a dozen scalding showers would be enough to erase his taint from my skin.
The nausea that threatened to overwhelm me was worse than the time my first blind date took me to an Amway meeting and tried to cop a feel during a boring lecture about skin care products. Actually, sitting through a dozen Amway meetings sounded good right about then. I cast my gaze toward Heaven and pra
yed God would somehow take pity on his fallen angel and bring me anywhere but here.
“Please, let me go,” I begged.
“I will never let you go, woman. You are mine for all eternity.”
His forever? Never to see Aedan or Jack? What about my family? Someone please wake me from this nightmare.
My vision spun as he squeezed my neck harder. My legs gave way beneath me before my world went dark.
Hell’s First Dimension
September 21, 1900
Katherine O’Connor
What would a solitary angel have to fear walking among giants? Nothing, lest they discover my ruse. For I was indeed no angel, but a blood-slave to the most ruthless demon in all Hell, sent by my master to deceive the Nephilim, walk among them as an emissary from God. If I succeeded, my master would reward me greatly. If I failed, I shuddered to think of the punishment. My bones still ached from the poison he’d injected into me, a reminder of the brutality he was capable of inflicting.
I fought to push back the rising tide of fear that bubbled in my throat. My master had sent with me a demon escort through the Valley of Fire, but once we’d reached the Stones of Souls, they’d abandoned me to my fate. Now I was all alone, an “angel” with a halo of blonde hair flowing from the hood of my white cloak.
I trod lightly through the desolate cemetery of forsaken souls, demons who had dared approach the giant’s gate turned to stone by giant magic. Markings of their grotesque forms and faces were imprinted on the granite’s smooth surface. What would it be like to be trapped inside such a tomb for all eternity? I shuddered at the thought. Even my master’s brutal punishments would be a welcome reprieve to eternal monotony. Just beyond the stones, the great pyramid rose like a mountain from beneath Hell’s desolation, its tip hovering against an inky black sky, illuminated only by flaming pyres that marked the corners of the structure.
A horn sounded in the distance, a deep wail too powerful to be that of an ordinary demon. The giants had to have seen me coming. Were they preparing to mount an attack or celebrating the return of their savior? I needed to convince them I was a fallen angel, Mother of Nephilim predestined to free them from their oppressors. I only hoped they would fall for my ruse, and that they would not ask me to remove the hood of my cloak.
I stopped to catch my breath, suddenly aware of my strained breathing as I pressed cracked lips together. Closing my eyes, I willed the serpent that slithered down my back to remain still.
“Be calm, my baby,” I begged, or we both shall be turned to stone.
Ash
“Where am I?” I rubbed my aching head as I sat up. I was lying on some sort of lumpy straw pallet. Squinting, I saw flame flickering on grey stone walls just outside the iron bars that held me prisoner.
Prisoner! Wait!
I sucked in a gasp as the memories of the scorpion demon came flooding back. He’d intruded in Callum’s chamber. Why hadn’t Callum fought him? Then I remembered his prone body and festering wound.
Callum!
I fluttered to my knees, relieved that this time my hands and feet weren’t bound. A quick scan of my small cell and I found him on a straw pallet in a darkened corner. Tears streamed down my face as I crawled up to his body. Scorpius had spit anti-venom into Callum’s wound, but he still looked sick. I smoothed a hand across his forehead. He was burning up. Then again, he did breathe flame, so I assumed his skin would be a little flushed.
I hovered above him and examined his laceration. The oozing had subsided, and the skin had begun to scab over. Was that a good sign?
“Callum,” I whispered as I floated to my knees, stroking the soft scales on his face. “Wake up.”
I didn’t like the way his eyes rolled into the back of his head when I called his name. I didn’t like it at all. So much for the anti-venom. Scorpius had said his cure would hold him for now. Why hadn’t he completely cured him? Was he only keeping Callum alive so he could torture him again later?
I still had no idea what this demon wanted or why he’d captured me. Shadow had gone through an awful lot of trouble to bring me down to Hell. Whatever his master had in store for me was definitely not good.
I nearly squealed in delight when Callum’s eyes shot open.
“Callum!”
I helped him sit up, propping a fur behind him as he leaned against the cell wall. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, wincing as he looked down at his wound. He looked around the room, then at me, as if he was in a daze.
“Where’s my whiskey?” he asked.
Jeez. What was it with him and his whiskey? I wondered if they had AA for demonic dragons, because I was starting to think Aedan’s twin had a drinking problem.
I scanned the cell, but I didn’t see anything other than our two pallets. I took his clawed hands in mine and squeezed. “I’m sorry. I don’t see any whiskey.”
I didn’t know if the look of pain that crossed his features was due to his injury or if he was having alcohol withdrawal. Maybe this lockup was what he needed to go sober. Not that I was saying being a captive to the sadistic, poisonous Gatekeeper of Satan’s prison was a good thing.
When I heard the trickle of water nearby, I licked my parched lips, wishing I could have just a taste of the cool, refreshing beverage, but I reminded myself the water in Hell was tainted. Too bad, because I was so very thirsty. Hell’s hormone water made fluoridated tap seem like Evian.
Callum blinked a few more times, and then his eyes remained open. Good. He appeared more lucid. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” A frown marred his brow. “Are you?”
“I’m fine.” I tried my best to shake off his concern. He was so considerate, just like Aedan. I didn’t care what mistakes he’d made in the past, he didn’t deserve to be in Hell.
I followed his gaze as he scowled at something beyond our prison bars. I got a better look at our surroundings. This cell was different than the last one I’d been in. It was wider and the ceiling was much higher, so high they could have fit a giraffe inside, which was highly probable since I’d already met a dragon and scorpion demon; although, I didn’t think a giraffe ghoul would have been as badass.
On the other side of the bars, I thought I saw a bedroom, but the furnishings were not sparse like Callum’s den. This room actually had a bit of style for a cave dwelling. A four-poster bed was centered against the back wall, layered with what appeared to be plum-colored satin sheets. Beside it were antique lamps on rich, mahogany end tables. At the base of the bed was an embroidered wooden chest, and beyond that was a bistro table for two with a gleaming silver tea set in the center. Could this have been Scorpius’s room? He didn’t strike me as the kind of demon to have refined taste.
“Where are we?” I asked.
He scowled at our prison bars. “I’m assuming we’re at Kate’s place.”
A tic jumped in my jaw as my flesh began to crawl. Why did her name ring a bell? “Who’s she?” I asked, squeezing my hands into fists, bracing myself for his answer.
The despondent look in his eyes made my insides turn to butter. “Katherine Murphy O’Connor, Aedan’s wife.”
Awww, shit.
Why did I get the feeling dear old Aunt Kate would turn out to be the relative from Hell? I suspected she wouldn’t be bringing me homemade cookies and hand sewn Raggedy Anne dolls like my Great Aunt Clara used to make.
“Why would Scorpius bring us here?” I asked, fearing Kate’s role in my captivity. The ex-wife of my current boyfriend holding me hostage couldn’t be a good thing.
“She’s his most trusted demon and his whore.”
“I’m sure my stay at Aunt Kate’s will be fun,” I said wryly. I still wondered how Aedan’s brother had gotten tied up with all these nasty demons. After my flight over the fiery pit, I realized Hell was a fairly big place. Couldn’t Callum have moved farther away from them and not left a forwarding address? Hell still didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.
Crossing my legs, I wrapped my wings arou
nd me. The feathers had filled out more in the past day, making them feel downy and soft. Considering all the ugly demons I’ve seen, I considered myself lucky my demon form was Big Bird-Zilla. “Tell me something,” I said.
He raked his hand through his hair as a puff of smoke blew out his nose. “What?”
I leaned forward, searching his eyes, and praying he’d answer honestly something that had been weighing on my mind since last night. “Why do you terrorize level one with the other demons?”
His wan face colored. “You mean the mortal realm?”
“Yes.”
He let out a deep sigh, and the smell of sulfur hit me square in the face. “Because Scorpius would torture me if I didn’t.”
“Oh.”
So he was forced to do it. That was understandable, but it only made me fear what Scorpius would try to make me do. I didn’t want to go all exorcist on unsuspecting mortals. Not since my rebellious stage in junior high had I terrorized anyone. I still felt bad about causing my eighth grade Spanish teacher to have a nervous breakdown, even if she was loca de la cabeza. But I still didn’t understand why demons went to Earth. Was it merely to steal black magic witches during rituals, or did Scorpius have darker plans? “Why does he send demons up there?”
He frowned. “I’m not sure, but every full moon he sends thirteen of us. Some say it’s a test.” I could tell by the deep lines around his eyes he was tired. I almost felt bad asking him all these questions. Almost. I didn’t know how much time we had together, and I had to glean as much information as possible about my nemesis. I knew I’d be preparing for the battle of my existence soon enough.
“For what?”
His eyes darkened as he dropped his voice. “To prepare us for the apocalypse.”
Eeek! As in Revelations, as in all Hell breaks loose on Earth? I was fairly certain my mom would ascend to Heaven during the second coming, but I had at least a dozen friends who’d be joining me in the pit of doom, or at the very best, on level two in Purgatory. “Do you think it will happen soon?”
