Hell Sucks: A Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy (Selena Pierce Book 2)

by Lucy Auburn

  Worry filled me at the state she was working herself into. It wasn’t worry for the guard, though—I knew what would happen to me if she didn’t calm down soon. She would find me eventually, one way or another, and devise a punishment for me; something clever no doubt, twisted and in her mind, even a little fun.

  I had hoped that this time when I snuck out, I wouldn’t be coming back. It hadn’t worked out that way. As much as I tried, I hadn’t been able to find a way to escape from the Underworld. Every path I marked down on my mental map of the place ended in a dead end. Though I saw my mother leave the rooms she’d locked me in more than once, I couldn’t seem to follow her by going the same way.

  There had to be a way out of Hell, though. Getting in had been so much easier than this. I’d come in with the necklace, but as much as I tried I couldn’t make it take me out. It was a one-way ticket apparently, and my amulets didn’t work at all in here. So I snuck out whenever possible, checking empty rooms and walking down winding hallways in search of a door that led somewhere, anywhere.

  “Tell my where my daughter is!”

  Persephone’s hands were moving down to the guard’s neck. He looked like he was considering whether or not it was worth fighting her off. The look on her face was one I’d seen before; she was going to kill him. And if she found me while riding that bloodlust, I didn’t have a chance at all. She’d lock me in my cage and I’d never get out again.

  Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself mentally.

  And walked out from behind the column. “I’m right here,” I said, trying to look confused. “I took a nap up against one of the columns because my room was stuffy. Did Damen not tell you?” I eyed the demigod, who despite his divine heritage was starting to look a little peaked. “Or did you not give him a chance?”

  She cut her eyes at me and slowly released the guard from her grip. “If that’s so, why didn’t you tell me?”

  Damen shot me a narrow-eyed look as he answered, “Your Highness didn’t give me a chance, simply asked me if she was in her room. And of course she wasn’t.”

  I held my breath as the lie stood, trying to look all innocent—although at this point, Persephone had to know me as anything but. Finally, the anger faded from her face, and she let go of the guard, flipping silky dark hair over her shoulder. “You mustn’t wander, my darling. I don’t know what I would do if my husband found you.”

  I licked my lips nervously at the mention of Hades, who was an enigma to me. “Why don’t you just tell him that I’m here? You can’t hide me away forever.”

  That, apparently, had been a mistake to say. She narrowed her eyes at me, face vicious. “Don’t be a fool. My husband would kill me or banish me if he found out that I’ve been unfaithful—and he would know the instant he saw you that you’re not his.”

  I didn’t know what Hades looked like, but apparently I shared no resemblance to my supposed stepfather. Not that it seemed to matter—I only looked like my mother, as I’d recently discovered.

  My birth mother, at least. My real mother had been dead for years, and my foster mother... I tried not to think about her much, even though the last time we’d seen each other still haunted me. Sometimes I wondered if she was searching for me, even as I admitted that I wouldn’t blame her at all if she wasn’t. The things I’d done to her were unforgivable.

  Persephone was still looking at me like she hoped I would catch on fire. “I guess you’re right. I wasn’t thinking about what his reaction would be.” I tried a smile, and as fake as it was it seemed to calm her down. “I’ll just stay right here, in these rooms you’ve prepared for me.”

  “I knew you would see reason. Now, come back to your room, darling.” She reached out and guided me by my arm, as if I didn’t know where the room was. Damen flicked his eyes to me as we walked past him. “I came by to talk to you about a proposition I have.”

  “Oh?” My voice came out more nervous than I hoped for; my birth mother’s propositions were rarely good news for me.

  “There are a few new sinners who have come down into the Underworld,” she said, with a toothy cat-like grin I didn’t appreciate. “I’ve brought one here out from under my husband’s nose just for you. He’s a lost soul.”

  That was when she brought me around the corner into my bedroom, and I saw what she meant. There was a man tied up in the corner of my room, looking like he’d been to... well, Hell. His terrified eyes met mine and widened with some emotion. My stomach turned when I realized it was fear—and no wonder, when I wore the same face as the woman next to me, the monster who brought him here.

  “You didn’t need to do that,” I said, mouth dry. “What will I even do with him?”

  “What else, darling?” Persephone cocked her beautiful head at me. “I’m going to show you how to torture him.”

  2

  Selena

  When I first came to the Underworld, I was terrified.

  How I screamed. Seeing her face, I’d known instantly who she was to me. And the way she’d looked at me—with this inhuman blackness in her eyes and a feral smile—had felt dangerous. Deadly.

  “Don’t worry, my darling,” she told me with that cold voice of hers, her hands on my neck never comforting, only possessive. “You and I are going to have fun.”

  I scrambled away from her, staring wildly around me at the emptiness of the room I was in. It reminded me of the magnificent chamber where I met the Elders in the Realm of Light—only there were no windows here, and the air smelled of ashes and pain.

  “Who—who are you?” I asked, even though part of me knew. “Where am I?”

  Her face went sharp then, cruel and angry. “Who am I? I am your mother, the woman who gave birth to you.” She advanced on me, swirls of blue silk floating around her ethereal form. “You’ve turned into an insolent brat, darling.” She tsk tsked, kneeling in front of me and reaching out to press a fingernail to my cheek. “Being raised up there with them did you no good. I never should have let you go, but alas... I had no other choice.”

  I leaned away from her touch, and she grabbed my chin, her grip ruthless and frightening. “Please,” I said, my voice rising with fear, turning into begging, “let me go home.”

  “What do you mean?” A puzzled look furrowed her brow, and I got the sense that she wasn’t all... there. “You are home now, my sweet.”

  The closeness of her was unbearable. I tried to think, but it was hard to clear my head. Breathing heavily, I smelled a spicy musk perfume on her, and other things: iron and copper from blood, a strange sharp scent that I couldn’t identify. The fingers on my skin were too-warm to the touch, nothing like Maggie’s cool hands as she pulled my hair back while I vomited.

  “I just want to go home,” I pleaded again, my voice a whisper.

  “Obviously you don’t understand what’s going on,” my mother said, her voice turning saccharine sweet. “You’re in the Underworld, my dear. This is your only home, your rightful place. I can see that you don’t understand... I promise that it will all become clear soon.” Her smile was a wild thing, blood red and sharp at the edges. “The life you’ll have here will be rich beyond your wildest dreams. I’m the Queen, and you’ll be the Princess.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I swallowed my words. “Are you really my mother?”

  She snapped, “What did I say?” Then she closed her eyes and shook her head as if she was trying to clear something from it. I tried to calm my fear at her obvious instability. “I’m sorry, my darling. It’s just so hard, knowing that you’ve grown up without me.” Just as quickly, her face shifted into a pout, and I was struck by the fact that she barely looked older than me. “I hope that you’ll come to call me ‘Mom’ soon, but until then, I suppose you can call me... Persephone.”

  The way she said it made it seem as if it wasn’t her name at all. I licked my lips and nodded, sensing that further objections would get me nowhere. “Okay... Persephone.”

  She smiled, clapping her hands together li
ke a little girl. “Oh, how marvelous! Now, together you and I are—” She stopped in the middle of her sentence, cocking her head to the side. Her forehead wrinkled with some sort of worry, and she shook her head again and sighed. “I have to go now, my darling.” Persephone stood up and brushed her skirt off; I pushed myself to a standing position as well, not wanting to be beneath her. “While I’m gone, stay here.” She cut her eyes at me, narrowing them in warning. They were so dark I could barely see her iris; the main difference between us. “If my husband catches you he will have you killed, so no wandering off. Understand?”

  I pasted on a false smile. “Of course. I won’t go anywhere.”

  Obviously I lied.

  First I watched Persephone leave the room through a set of carved stone doors, and then I closed my eyes and counted to ten five times. Once I was sure she was gone, I held the black and red amulet in my hand. “Elah, Elah, Elah.”

  I held my breath waiting to hear his voice, but nothing happened. Crushed—and unsure whether it wasn’t working, or Elah had abandoned me—I dropped the black amuet.

  Then I picked up the blue and white one, which was crystal clear and gorgeous. It seemed odd that an amulet with such a light color would call to a dark fae, but that was exactly what this amulet was for. Unsure what I would do if he answered, I murmured, “Vincent, Vincent, Vincent.”

  I’d never used this amulet before, unlike the black one, but I had no reason to think it would work a different way. My heart sank as I stood alone in the silence. Again, nothing happened. If I was going to find a way out of Hell I was going to have to do it on my own.

  So I cast my eyes around my surroundings, remembering everything Leon taught me during my lessons with him: stay calm, remain centered, be focused, and above all don’t make assumptions or come to any conclusions without evidence. I thought of his solid, centered teachings as I observed the throne room.

  It was ostentatious beyond belief, covered in intricate tiles that were carved, painted, and glazed. The ceiling above me was irregular; it looked more like a cave than a man-made form, as if we were deep in the center of the earth or standing beneath a volcano. That sent shivers up and down my spine, so I didn’t stare up for too long, unable to relax if I imagined myself trapped thousands of feet beneath the Earth’s surface.

  Instead I looked at the centerpiece of the room that called attention to itself no matter what: the throne. Sitting on top of a spreading dais, it drew me towards it on curious feet. I walked up the shallow stone steps and reached towards its gold and marble frame, staring at the roses carved in the back—and the daggers there as well. It was chillingly cold to the touch, unnaturally so. The legs beneath it almost melted into the stone below, and carved into them were twisting figures that seemed to be either frozen in the throes of passion or in the midst of being tortured.

  It sang as I walked around it, giving off a quiet and curious hum that stole my breath. I felt almost as if I’d seen it before, in a dream or somewhere else, but as soon as I had the thought it drifted away from me.

  Whoever sat on this throne had to be powerful. And I knew somehow that it was made for my mother—my birth mother, of all people. That knowledge made me draw back from it, disturbed at the way it seemed to lure me towards it, as if it were alive and just as capable of seduction as I was.

  Turning my back on the throne, I studied the rest of the room. Grecian columns held up the distant ceiling, piercing the stone above us at varying levels. I cautiously approached one and touched it, but unlike the throne it didn’t seem to possess any magical abilities. The columns were scattered around the room for reasons I couldn’t easily discern, but I had the feeling they held up the ceiling above us.

  Other than the dais, and the throne, there was next to nothing in this room. But a darkened hallway off to one side called my attention, as well as the high double doors, as big as the doors in Illyrium if not bigger. Persephone had disappeared through those doors, so I dismissed them as an avenue of exploration; whatever magic she’d used to open them was beyond my understanding, because they didn’t respond when I walked towards them.

  That left the dark hallway. When I looked at it I heard whispers, as if there were things lurking there that wanted me to come closer—and not because they had good intentions. I was a succubus, I reminded myself as fear froze me in place. If this was a way out I had to take it.

  So I forced down the instincts that were telling me not to go into the bad-scary-dark place, and walked into it. At first it wasn’t that bad—I was just going into a darkened hallway, after all. But the more steps I took, the more the darkness seemed to latch onto the light and steal it from my eyes.

  Until it felt like I was the darkness itself.

  Shaking off that feeling, I reminded myself that I was Selena Pierce, daughter of Jake and Leah Pierce, foster daughter of Maggie Smith, badass succubus-at-large. And if my mother really was the Queen of the Underworld, and her blood really did flow through my veins, surely her kingdom was mine to conquer as well.

  Or so I hoped.

  Reaching out towards my right, I trailed my fingers along the wall and used it to guide me. The wall felt hot and slightly soft to the touch; my fingers came away covered in ash when I stopped to check them. Disturbed, I wondered if this was really it, that place of nightmares: Hell, where lost souls and sinners spent their eternity.

  That was when it occurred to me that I didn’t know who Persephone’s husband was. She’d warned me that he would kill me if I left the throne room—and here I was, trying to escape.

  But I forced my feet forward anyway, even as it got tough. Even as the air seemed to close around me, hot and dry enough to make my throat itch. I kept walking, unable to see my feet beneath me, until my toes brushed against a hard surface. Ashes flew up into my face. Breathing through my mouth, I reached out to touch the wall in front of me, cautiously hoping for a door—even as I knew it was a long shot.

  What happened when I touched the wall was completely unexpected. Light burst from my fingertips in a narrow vertical line. I blinked and shielded my eyes with one hand, staring into the overwhelming glow. “What is this...?”

  It was a crack in the wall, no wider than the tip of my finger. The light had a strange and living quality to it. I felt a buzzing against my skin and reached into my shirt to pull out the amulet Vincent gave me. It was vibrating, just as it had before, and glowing with a light that had the same quality as the crack in the wall. I felt it unlock something, and knew that if there was a chance it would call Vincent now, I had to try.

  I was about to say his name three times when I heard her scream of rage. Whirling, I pulled my hand from the wall and the darkness returned, all-consuming.

  “SELENA!” Her voice was an inhuman roar, like a monster coming to life. Distantly, just past the darkness, I could see her pacing back and forth in the throne room. “My darling, come out at once.”

  It wasn’t until she said my name that I realized I hadn’t even told her, and wondered how it was that she knew—and how long she’d possibly been watching me. A chill went through me as I imagined my birth mother spying on me my entire life, sitting on her throne in the Underworld.

  She screamed again, the sound echoing off the distant ceilings. Rapidly, I went through my options: I could hide here and hope she didn’t find me, which would be stupid because she would. I could try to follow the crack and see if it widened, but it had been so small; and while I could try to call Vincent with the amulet, I couldn’t even be sure he would answer or be able to help me. He was trapped in the Shadow Realm, after all.

  As I put my amulets back inside my shirt, my hand brushed up against another option. Naomi had given me her dagger. I’d kept it in my jacket when we went back to the Collective to question the demon summoner, who then told me—my mind stuttered over that moment, as well as what I’d done to Maggie when I got home. But I’d never stopped along the way to return the dagger, and its weight pressed against me.

&nb
sp; Heart hammering, I pulled it out of my pocket and crept through the darkness towards the throne room.

  “Where is she?” Persephone was muttering to herself now, a crazed look in her eyes. “Stupid little girl. So stupid.”

  Biting my lower lip, I paused at the edge of the dark hallway to watch her. It took a surprisingly long time for her to whirl towards the darkness and narrow her eyes at it.

  “No,” she said quietly. “She couldn’t have. She’s half him after all, and wouldn’t be able to withstand it…” A sly look came across her face as she crept in my direction, and I forced myself to stay still, the blade in my hand. “Unless she’s more like her mother than I thought.”

  When she was close enough I saw my chance. It took every ounce of bravery and courage inside me to surge forward with the knife in one hand and plunge it into her chest. It lodged somewhere between her left shoulder and her breast, bright and shining.

  For a moment there was nothing but shock in the air, and I wasn’t sure who was more surprised: Persephone that I stabbed her, or me that I’d somehow done it. She stumbled back a step or two, dark eyebrows just slightly raised. My hands trembled with shock.

  “How dare you,” she said, in a voice that shook with furious rage. I cringed back, wanting to get away from her—she didn’t seem to be dying. “My own daughter. MY OWN DAUGHTER!”

  I watched as, right in front of my eyes, she grabbed the dagger and pulled it from her chest. There was no wound left behind once she’d pulled it out, little more than a brief closing over of flesh. The only sign that I’d even stabbed her in the first place was the tear in her clothing and the blood on the blade’s edge.

  My mouth went dry.