by Tara West
I leaned over the side of the bed, scowling. “What the hell, Hitler?”
I shrieked when he pointed a furry finger at a wet spot on my knee. Ewww! He’d left a puddle of monkey splooge on the comforter. I bared my teeth, suddenly struck with the urge to bite a hole through his head.
He scrambled to his feet, his moustache twitching, and pulled his lips back in a satisfied smile. He howled and pounded his chest before scurrying away.
I kicked all the blankets to the floor and lay back with a groan. As if hell couldn’t have sucked any worse, add getting my leg violated by a freaky Fuhrer to the list of horrific memories that needed to be suppressed. I had to find a way out of this hotel. Surely I’d go insane if I had to put up with an eternity of humping Hitlers.
I jumped up on the mattress, balling my hands when Hitler ran back on all fours.
He shrieked and pointed to the door. “You must go help friend. Friend missing leg and won’t let sirens touch him.”
My knees nearly buckled beneath me. “Missing a leg?” I grabbed a lamp off the side table, preparing to smash it over Hitler’s head. “What did you do to my fiancé?!”
He shook his head, peeling his lips back in a feral growl. “No fiancé. Soldier named Sanchez.”
I dropped the lamp and climbed off the bed. “Santiago is here?”
Oh, no, the Devil had tricked my friends, too. But how was it he was missing half a leg when his old war wound had been healed? Then my hands flew to that frizzy mop on my head. My hair had reverted back to being a Brillo pad, making me look like my dead self after I’d been electrocuted. The same thing must have happened to Santiago.
Dear God in heaven! He must be in excruciating pain.
“Take me to him,” I said, glaring down at the evil primate, “and this better not be a trick,” I added with a growl. Though, honestly, what could I have done if it had been a trick, other than kick the monkey’s teeth in and pray I didn’t lose my toes in the process?
Chapter Six
An ugly bull-human creature was standing outside my door, along with an albino cat-woman, one of the sluts who’d been flirting with Aedan. I wasn’t as bothered by the steam pouring out of the bull’s wide nostrils, or the spear he carried over his shoulder, as much as the demonic gleam in the cat-woman’s pale eyes as she stroked the shaft of a poker stick, it’s red-hot tip shining with malice.
I narrowed my eyes at the cat-woman as the hairs on my nape stood on end. “Who are you?”
“I am the hotel healer,” she said with a deep purr, continuing to stroke the poker shaft as if she was trying to arouse a metal penis.
Damn. Aedan had accused me of having too much sex on the brain, but at least I’d never been into flaming dildos.
My mouth went bone dry, and I gaped at the supposed healer. If she had some kind of sick foreplay planned for me and that poker stick, so help me, I’d claw the bitch’s eyes out. Not wanting her to see how much she terrified me, I did my best to push back my fear. “What are you going to do with that poker?”
She flashed a slanted smile, revealing yellowing razor-sharp teeth, a stark contrast to her snowy white fur. “Cauterize the soldier’s wound.” She swept her hand toward the door next to mine, the same room Aedan and I had snuck into earlier. “After you,” she said with a sinister purr.
I rushed through the door, running across the room as if the tiles were made of hot coals, not just because I wanted to see my friend but because I didn’t trust the demon bitch at my back.
I fell onto the bed and climbed over to him, gasping when I saw my friend’s tanned skin had turned nearly as pale as the silky sheets. There was a huge bloody bulls-eye in the center of the bed, the pool of blood deepening around his bloody stump.
“Santiago!” I cried as I ran a hand down his cool, clammy brow. “What happened to you?”
His head lolled toward me, and his eyes fluttered open. “Ash?” he rasped as he reached out. “What? Why?”
I couldn’t stop the tears from overflowing when I saw the pain in his drawn mouth and bloodshot eyes. “Never mind that. We need to stop your bleeding.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He shook his head, one corner of his mouth hitching up in a pitiful smile. “Can’t die again. Already at the bottom.”
I bit my lip as I gazed again at his leg. He’d wrapped it in a sheet, which was now blood-soaked. “But doesn’t it hurt?”
He chuckled and then cried out, clenching his hands by his sides. “Like hell.” His back arched and he cried out again before leaning back and closing his eyes with a groan.
“Move aside,” the healer commanded with a sibilant hiss. “We need to get this over with.”
She hovered behind me, an impatient look in her slanted feline eyes, her tail waving back and forth as she slapped her palm with the poker. The tip of that stick glowed with eerie reds and golds, the same colors as the outside fires. Oh, dear God, this was going to hurt.
I crawled around my friend and held his hand. “Santiago,” I said with a quavering voice. “A healer is here to stop the bleeding.”
His eyes shot open, and he clenched my hand so tight, I feared he’d break my fingers. He screamed when the bull creature grabbed his shoulders, pulling us apart as he dragged Santiago to the edge of the bed.
“You’re hurting him,” I cried, but it was too late.
The bull had already ripped the sheet off his leg, exposing a mess of shredded tendons and flesh so horrifying, I had to look away. I felt so bad for my friend. It looked like a shark had gnawed off his leg. When the bull pressed down on Santiago’s chest, I braced myself for what was coming.
Tears streamed down my face when the healer pressed the hot poker against his stump. Santiago’s screams of agony sliced through my heart and pierced my soul, and the smell of burning flesh singed my nostrils and sent a rolling wave of nausea through me. It took all of my willpower not to throw up all over the bed.
Sometime during the horrific ordeal, Santiago passed out. Thank God for small miracles. Unfortunately, the stubborn man didn’t stay unconscious for long. His eyes fluttered open a few times as he muttered incoherent phrases, although I distinctly heard the name “Melanie” at least twice.
When the cat-slut was finished, Santiago’s leg looked like a charred stump, but at least it had stopped bleeding.
“Give this to him.” She held a goblet over his chest. “It will take away the pain.”
I reached for it with a shaky hand, then jerked back when I saw it was blood wine.
Santiago woke up and knocked it out of her hands.
“I don’t want your demon wine,” he slurred, then gasped and closed his eyes.
The cat-woman scowled at him before turning to the bull creature. “Get me more wine. We must force it down his throat.”
The bull nodded and walked to a nearby table, pouring red liquid from a decanter into the goblet.
I jumped to my knees. “No!” I screamed. “You heard him. He doesn’t want it.”
The bull creature set down the goblet and stood rooted to the spot, his eyes bulging at me as wisps of steam trailed from his nose. He looked from the cat-bitch to me and then scratched his head.
The feline fixed me with an evil glare, the kind of look girls give each other right before they break into a hair-pulling, bitch-slapping, knock-down drag-out.
I pulled back my shoulders, balled my hands, and matched her double-dog-diva-dare with a look of my own. I didn’t care if she had scissor teeth and sharp claws. No girl could out-attitude me. When it came to my friend’s safety, I’d turn into Bitchzilla if need be. And yeah, maybe I’d only made it to yellow belt in Tae-Kwan-Do, but I’d scratch her eyes out and rip off her tail if that’s what it took to keep her from force-feeding Santiago blood. No telling where that blood came from. It could have had been tainted with a raging case of demonic Hep C.
She let out a low growl, her eerie yellow eyes turning red as she pointed the hot poker stick at my chest and raked her claws across th
e bed.
I growled back at her, channeling my black Lab Jack with a deep rumble. “Don’t even try it, bitch. I’ll slap all nine lives out of your hairy head.” I hadn’t realized it until that moment, but I really hated cats. I mean, I really, really hated them. They were sinister fluff-balls, a blight on society, and total fucking bitches.
“Ha!” she laughed. “I’d like to see you try it.”
I snarled and barked so loud and so deep, I even scared myself. Wow. I had no idea I could bark like that. Jack would have been proud.
When the cat-bitch jerked back, I took advantage of her surprise and snatched the poker out of her hand. She let out a wail and lunged at me, and I smacked her upside the head with the stick, her flesh sizzling as she crashed to the floor.
One side of her face bubbled and boiled as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Damn. She was going to wake up with a heck of a nasty scar and a serious grudge.
The bull grunted and then whimpered, looking from the demon-cat to me before picking her up off the floor and slinging her over his shoulder.
I held that poker stick like a baseball bat, prepared to swing at the bull next, but he backed up with a frightened look in his eyes before running out of the room. I breathed a sigh of relief after they left, then jumped when I heard the monkey’s familiar screech, followed by the sound of the door slamming and the audible turn of the lock.
Santiago and I were finally alone. I climbed off the bed and carefully set the poker against the wall, not caring that it burned a black mark into the plaster. Satan could send me the bill for the repairs.
Planting my hands on my hips, I surveyed the bloody mess on Santiago’s bed. He was asleep for the most part, mumbling as his chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. I rolled him onto his side, pulling the sheets out from beneath him. I patted his wound dry with a towel, wiped the blood off the mattress, and laid a dry towel across the bulls-eye to soak up the rest of it. Then I found a clean set of linens in the trunk at the foot of the bed and made the bed with him in it, which wasn’t easy. He whimpered a few times, but was otherwise still pretty out of it. He didn’t need blood wine after all. The pain had been bad enough to knock him out.
After he was settled, I lay beside him and placed my hand on his forehead. He was burning up. I hoped he didn’t have an infection or he’d have to lose more of his leg. If that healing bitch had to come take care of him again, there was sure to be a cat fight, and my new friend, Mr. Hot Poker Stick, would knock her teeth out.
I draped an arm across his chest. I was still shaking, and my breathing was coming in shallow gasps. It was only then that I realized how demon-shit crazy I’d been to take on the psychotic cat-lady. She could have burned my eyes out or worse with that poker stick. What had I been thinking?
But Santiago had once gone down into the bowels of Hell to rescue me after I was kidnapped by the servant of an evil demon. Fending off the bitch was the least I could do for him. Now if all the other demons would leave us alone, maybe we’d survive our captivity long enough to get rescued.
If we were rescued.
* * *
I stayed with Santiago the rest of the night. I thought about draping a damp cloth across his feverish forehead, but when I recalled Thelix patting me with a damp hand, I realized the water might make us horny.
It wasn’t the water, Ash. You’re just a cheating horn-dog.
Gah! Shut up, conscience. I love Aedan. I’m not a cheater—well, not intentionally.
Santiago alternated between a fitful sleep and wide-eyed delirium. He kept mumbling something about Melanie’s baby. I had no idea what the heck he was talking about. His fever wasn’t letting up, so I finally broke down and poured him a glass of water, praying it wasn’t tainted like the horny water on sub-level one. He greedily drank, alternating between mumbling and gulping the cool liquid. Within five minutes of giving him the water, he developed a raging boner.
Correction. He developed a ginormous raging boner.
I felt a little less guilty about salivating over Thelix’s pretty tits. It was the water.
His massive flagpole created a tent effect beneath the sheets, and I wasn’t talking about a pup tent but a full out Barnum and Bailey extravaganza with a parade of elephants, tightrope walkers, and a dozen clowns.
Sheesh. I’d had no idea Santiago’s beefsteak was so beefy. And to think, I could have ridden that pony back when we’d been ghosters. He’d given me plenty of opportunities. Good thing I hadn’t drunk any of the water, or I would have gotten the urge to climb on top and ride him until we were both screaming.
Damn. I did have the urge to climb on Santiago. What was wrong with me that I was thinking of taking advantage of my critically injured, delirious friend while engaged to another man? That was wrong on so many levels, and I felt like the biggest slut in thirteen hells for even thinking it.
No pleasure is too sordid, carnal, or disgusting.
I jerked back with a gasp as the Devil’s words rang in my ears. I looked down at my wet hands, realizing the water didn’t just make people horny when they drank it; they got turned on just by touching it. No wonder I had lost all inhibitions in the pool with Thelix. I’d been under the influence of seductive music and horny water, and now I was contemplating doing something even more carnal and sinful. Being fooled by the sirens was one thing, but I knew Aedan would never forgive me if I had sex with Santiago, and I doubted I’d be able to forgive myself.
After Santiago fell back to sleep, I decided to put some distance between us. I grabbed a pillow and blanket and made a makeshift bed on a nearby lounge. Not that I was planning on falling asleep anytime soon. With my luck, I’d have an erotic dream and wake up riding the Santiago express. That was just the sort of thing to happen in Hell’s hotel. I was starting to wonder if I was better off inside the hotel than outside. Sure I enjoyed the air-conditioned rooms, but the emotional and mental torture was agonizing.
It doesn’t have to be, Ash. You could surrender to desire. Thelix’s sultry voice echoed in my brain.
I covered my ears and screamed. “Shut up, Thelix!”
How was it that these demons were able to invade my thoughts? Were they really in my head, or was it my imagination? One thing was certain: the Devil knew exactly what he was doing when he’d placed me in Santiago’s room. This was all part of his torture, trick me into cheating on Aedan and force me to live with the guilt for eternity.
He might have fooled me once, but he wasn’t fooling me again.
Aedan has probably already succumbed to his siren.
“Shut the fuck up, Thelix!” I screamed. “You will not win, do you hear me? You will not win!”
Tears streamed down my face as I squeezed my legs shut. Then an idea struck me. I closed my eyes and conjured up the image of that centerfold, of those nasty vampire demons and their all-you-can-eat buffet with the Raggedy Anns and their Aunt Flo. I thought of my grandpa wearing nothing but a leather thong and suspenders over his shaved nipples, walking around our apartment with a blowup doll tucked beneath his arm. Not only did that totally deflate my libido, it made me laugh out loud. I thought of the time I’d eaten three gluten-filled brownies and crapped my pants on an elevator, waddling like a duck while trying to locate my Purgatory apartment. Finally, a chill swept up my spine as I remembered how we’d first gotten stuck at the bottom of Hell, chased out of our elevator by thousands of poisonous spiders.
It worked! My boner buzz was gone.
Santiago mumbled something about Melanie and her baby again, but I stayed put. I hoped his fever would wear off by morning. Even though I felt like a terrible friend for not checking on him, I knew I had to stay away from temptation. He was as dead as he could get, after all. I only wished I could have said the same for our libidos.
Chapter Seven
I woke to a ray of sun hitting me in the eyes and a really annoying itch behind my ears. I scratched it with my hind leg, growling as the itch intensified.
A knock
sounded at the door. I didn’t know who it was, but this was Santiago’s goddamn room! No way was I letting some other demon claim stake on his territory! I jumped up and skidded across the floor. I barked several times, and then growled when I heard monkey Hitler’s grunts from the other side. I sniffed beneath the door, catching his familiar rotten stench. Yep. That was him. What did he want?
Wait a minute.
I froze when the realization hit me. Why was I on all fours sniffing the floor? I sat back on my hind legs, looking at my hands for a long moment, trying to figure out where the heck all that hair had come from. My arms and hands were covered in black fur. Instead of my beautiful manicure, I now had long black claws. My hands were fat and ugly, kind of a cross between a human hand and a dog paw. Huh? My breath hitched as my gaze traveled to my legs.
OMIGOD!
I had dog legs! Black, furry, dog legs! And what was that wagging black thing sticking out the back of my skirt? Was there a dog behind me? I spun around several cycles trying to catch the damn thing, but it was always a step ahead of me. Finally, I gave up. Panting and dizzy, I fell to the floor.
I ran my hands over my face. My nose protruded out several inches and it was wet. Wet! My jaw felt elongated, too, and my teeth were as sharp as knives. My hair frizz was gone, replaced by thick, soft fur, and my ears were long and floppy.
This couldn’t be happening!
How did I wake up with dog legs and furry hands? I stood up on my hind legs, which was awkward and hurt my back, but I wasn’t about to crawl around on my hands. That thing kept wagging behind me, but it helped keep me balanced, kind of like a rudder. My legs wobbled as I walked over to the marble vanity beside Santiago’s bed.
I screamed when I saw my reflection, only it didn’t come out as a scream. It came out as a howl. I slapped my hand over my snout and fell onto the padded seat, alternating between swearing and whimpering as I stared back at Ash’s eyes and Jack’s snout. Though I still had Ash’s neck, torso, and boobs, most of me was definitely Lab, and that long black thing slapping the bench was a tail! Worst of all was that my tassel tit bra only covered two of my six nipples!
