Hot House: Dante and Hayley

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Hot House: Dante and Hayley Page 4

by Sheri Gilmore


  Her eyes bugged and her mouth fell open. A man she assumed was the bartender towered over her. He was as large as ... well, as large as ... Her mouth closed. She couldn’t think of anyone as huge as the man who stood in front of her.

  Black, wiry hair covered dusky skin that held a tinge of green. His eyes were small and beady, hidden beneath shaggy eyebrows. He looked like that wrestler Andre the Giant. A large, flat nose looked like it had been squished in a fight. He sniffed and looked down at her.

  Hayley’s eyebrows shot up.

  The guy’s left nostril lifted away from his top lip to reveal a nares the size of a small cave. Make that several fights, she amended. He had to be the biggest, ugliest man she’d ever seen. His little finger could pulverize her without effort.

  “Uh, excuse me?” She smiled and hoped her expression looked genuine. “Have you seen a guy in here who looks like me?”

  “You’re an identical twin, too?” He nodded toward the Amazons, who were in the process of licking the body of a man they had sandwiched between them.

  His breath blew hot across her face like a desert wind. Hayley wrinkled her nose when the smell of garlic hit her. She covered her mouth and coughed once to disguise the fact that she wanted to vomit.

  “Actually, that would make me a fraternal twin, but --” She waved her hand to stop her digression. “Look, mister. I’m looking for my friend. He’s wearing similar clothing to mine. Non-goth.” She pulled at the sleeve of her sweater.

  The giant didn’t blink.

  “A guy. My age.”

  No reaction.

  Hayley leaned one hip against the bar and looked at the ceiling. The sigh she released was long. She might as well quit her search and go home. Jay was probably having the time of his life, while she, on the other hand, had only run into the biggest group of weirdos she’d ever met.

  She eased her butt onto a stool and looked around. People danced across the floor. She glanced at the cages situated overhead. Girls danced there, too. Everyone was having a grand old time, except her. She was alone, again, on a Saturday night.

  Her thoughts turned to Dante, but she shook them off. The only men she attracted were ones with mental problems. She sighed. Maybe she’d become a nun.

  “Give me a beer, Fee Fie.” She turned to the bar, leaned her face on one hand, and traced a pattern in the moisture with her other. All she wanted was a nice, down-to-earth boyfriend to share a quiet evening at home. Was that too much to ask? Of course, she wouldn’t object to some good, hot sex thrown into the equation.

  A brown bottle intruded into her line of vision. Moisture from the hot atmosphere condensed above the cool bottle, forming a wispy cloud.

  “The name’s Gar.”

  “Um.” She took a swig, liking the way the cold liquid slid down her parched throat. “Hayley.” She didn’t know why she bothered to introduce herself, except her mother had instilled manners in her since she could talk and walk. The giant probably couldn’t care less who she was.

  “Nice to meet you, Princess Hayley.” His deep voice rumbled through the wood of the bar. He bowed, then offered her his hand.

  For the umpteenth time that night, her mouth dropped open. She managed to remember her mother’s lessons in etiquette and placed her hand into his. “Same here.”

  He pumped her hand up and down. When he let go, her arm tingled, like it might be pulled out of the socket. She laughed and gave the giant a smile. He grinned back, revealing that most of his teeth were gone, except three gray-green ones in the front.

  Hayley marveled at the transformation in his face. She cocked her head to the side. The smile was a little rusty, but it added warmth to the rough features. He was so ugly, he was cute. Kind of like the old mutt she’d found on a street corner when she was younger. She felt a twinge of happiness for the first time tonight. She took another sip of her beer. “Ugh.”

  Her mouth pinched in distaste, and she spit the rancid brew back into the bottle. Instead of the ice-cold beer from a second before, a lukewarm liquid remained and tasted far more fermented.

  Gar shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry about that. It’s hard to keep things fresh down here.”

  Hayley wiped her mouth with the back of her hand at the same time the band behind her hit an eerie note. A shiver ran down her spine, like a premonition.

  “What do you mean ‘down here’?” No, she didn’t want to know. She placed the bottle on the counter and held up her hand to stop Gar’s answer, but he didn’t notice.

  “Well, you know, Princess.” Gar nodded his head toward the crowd. “Hell.”

  Hayley didn’t move. She couldn’t. Deep down she had known what Gar would say. All night, in the back of her mind, she’d had the same thought over and over. Even before they’d left Jay’s apartment, Hayley had known something strange would happen. It was like déjà vu. Dread crawled across her skin. She pivoted on the barstool and looked across the floor.

  What had looked like people having a good time when they’d first entered took on a sinister aspect she’d ignored. Those weren’t costumes the patrons were wearing. She narrowed her eyes to focus. The patrons were, in reality, werewolves, two-tongued serpents, and gargoyles. Hayley turned back to the bar, her eyes shut against what her mind registered. It’s all a dream.

  The smell of sulfur and sweat permeated her senses, and she knew that what she saw and smelled at that moment was reality. For the second time, she opened her eyes, looking at Gar with a newfound awareness. He was one of them -- a monster, or a demon from Hell. She shook her head.

  “No.” She stood up and backed away from the bar. She bumped into the writhing creatures, but twisted away. The sound of ringing registered in her mind. Gar picked up a red phone and spoke into the receiver.

  She almost laughed, but stuffed her fist in her mouth to stop the hysterical need. If she started, she wouldn’t stop. Hayley turned and ran. She knew who Gar was speaking to -- the devil. And the devil definitely had a name: Dante.

  Hands reached out to pull her into the frenzy. The sleeve of her sweater ripped. Claws dug into her skin; faces leered down at her. Hayley drew her arms closer to her body, fighting her way through the crowd. Where was the door? She stumbled, but pulled herself upright, afraid they wouldn’t let her go if she stopped. She had a flash of the gate in her mind from earlier. Jay had asked the bouncer what the words above the gate said, but the gold man had not responded. The glowing red letters had looked like gibberish, but they now became clear in her mind.

  Enter into the Suffering City, endure eternally, but abandon every hope.

  She wiped a hand across her forehead, finding her skin cold and clammy. The floor shifted beneath her, like a mini-earthquake. Tiles heaved up and down. She grasped a rail for support.

  All around her, the monsters and demons moved in a circle, weaving in and out, moaning, “Pape Satan, pape Satan.”

  She held on until the motion stopped, but the rail wasn’t a rail anymore. The flickering flames of a red-and-yellow tattoo taunted her. Muscles rippled beneath her fingers. Hayley staggered backwards a few feet across the floor and looked into Dante’s black gaze.

  “Where’s the frickin’ door?” She screamed the words at him, spitting in his face.

  A pain, sharp and hot, sliced through her head. Hayley doubled over. She clenched her teeth in an effort to speak. “I ... want ... out ... of here!”

  Dante stepped closer, but she threw her hand up to keep him away. With an effort, she forced herself to stand.

  “Hayley.”

  “No, stay away from me. You’re evil. All of you!”

  “I tried to tell you.” The pained look on Dante’s face registered through the throb in her head, but she didn’t understand why he would look hurt at her words. He knew what he was.

  A demon standing a foot away inched closer; she kicked out at him with her foot. The monster jumped back, and the gleam of a knife attached to his belt glinted in the flickering lights of the ... She looked around and
gasped.

  The club she had entered had transformed into a giant cavern. What she had thought were electrical lights didn’t exist, were only lanterns and torches strung high around the dark brown and gray stone walls.

  “What happened to the walls?” She rushed forward and grabbed the demon’s knife. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt at the same time her stomach knotted, and her knees weakened to hit the stone floor. Bile rose in her throat and she gagged.

  “Gently! If she can see the reality of this stink hole, then her soul and her mind are fighting each other for control.” Strong hands grasped her shoulders, pulling her up.

  With a growl, she swung the blade out and around. “Get off me!”

  “Hayley, let me help you.” Dante stepped smoothly around the blade, wrapping his arms about her from behind. With expert strength, he pinned her arms to her side and brought her ass in hard to nestle against his erection. His whispered voice sounded next to her ear. “The pain will go away if you let me hold you. Shhh. Let me caress you.”

  She shivered at the sound of his words, firm and full of command. Just listening to him eased the ache in her head. The velvet softness of his voice made it seem so natural in this place, with everyone watching, to lay her head back against his shoulder and let him cradle her in his arms while his expert hands stroked over her body, taking the pain and confusion with them. Pleasure pulsed in their place.

  She closed her eyes at the image of thousands of fingers caressing her. Moisture from her desire pooled between her legs. She turned her head to look into Dante’s soft, concerned gaze and relented to the silent demand and need she saw there. Around her, the demons’ chants echoed for their master to proceed whether she agreed or not, their faces eager for the debauched entertainment.

  Dante’s fingers eased down her arms to capture her hands; his hips swayed back and forth in imitation of what he wanted from her. Music flowed around them in some ancient Babylonian beat. Hayley closed her eyes with a sigh; the pain from a few seconds ago dulled to a mere throb.

  “That’s it, baby, let it go.” He kissed her temple. “Accept this reality, and the pain will go away.”

  His hands on hers, Dante guided her fingers to the opening of her jeans and rubbed her forefinger against her clit through the fabric. Hayley arched and hissed with the sensation. The chants grew louder, while Dante’s demands grew bolder.

  He forced her fingers to the zip of her jeans. Then he eased their fingers inside her panties and down to tease her slick folds. Viscous moisture coated their hands, and the musky smell of her sex filled the air.

  “No, I can’t.” The dreamlike trance slipped away, and awareness of where she was returned. She tried to move away, but he pulled her closer, his breath a whisper in her ear.

  “Focus on me, Hayley. Rub your clit while my fingers play in your cunt.”

  Dante pushed two fingers deep inside her body, and she cried out with the pleasure. The sight and sound of the “watchers” left the parameters of her mind. Only the feel of what he made her do and what she allowed him to do remained. She wanted the vortex they were caught up in to whirl and swirl forever.

  “Faster, Hayley. I want you to come for them.” He kissed her neck. “You are so beautiful. They all want you and the power of your climax, just like I do.”

  She shook her head in denial, but her orgasm claimed her at the same time a sharp, electrical pain cut deeper into her mind. “Ahhh!”

  She grabbed her head with both hands and jerked free of Dante’s embrace to curl into a ball against the floor. Sensations of pain and pleasure washed over her. She felt the crowd move closer and heard Dante’s voice issuing orders to his demons. He sounded far away, too far. Only he could make the pain recede.

  “Help me.” Hayley squinted through tears of pain. She reached for him, but his image faded into a misty gray.

  * * * * *

  “Hayley?”

  A beeping noise and the smell of ammonia penetrated her mind. The need to get away from soulless eyes had her twisting against the hands that held her. Everyone watched her while Dante touched and caressed her. In some perverse way, she craved what he could give her, but knew deep down their actions weren’t normal.

  “Hayley, do you hear me?” A man’s voice rose above the continued beeping noise.

  Hayley tried to open her eyes, but a bright light flashed. The pain intensified. She moaned and shut her eyes. “Dante.”

  “Did she speak?”

  When she turned away, someone touched her arms and legs. Demons! She kicked her legs to break their hold, but the hands clamped around her tighter.

  “Dammit, fasten those restraints.” The voice faded for a second, but returned with a cool hand to her forehead. “If she moves around too much, the bleeding will start again. She’s got to be stabilized before she can go up for surgery.”

  Hayley screamed and moved her head back and forth to knock the demon’s caress away. Where was Dante? Why didn’t he protect her?

  “Hayley, stay with us now. Don’t go back to that dark place. Fight, girl, fight.”

  “What happened to the other one?”

  “He didn’t make it. The EMT personnel said the young man lasted until they got him to the hospital, but died as they drove up. It was a bad one ...”

  The beeping faded with the voice. A reddish-orange light appeared behind her and beckoned to her. She didn’t hesitate to walk toward its call. She looked back once and saw a woman with numerous medical personnel surrounding her. The woman lay pale and lifeless, tubes and strange fluids infusing her body, a respirator covering her mouth. Blood covered the woman’s face and clothes and dripped onto the floor.

  Hayley frowned. The girl looked familiar. She stepped closer to the pitiful figure covered with glass, mud, and blood. She looked like ... her!

  Hayley.

  She stepped back at the sound of a coaxing voice, calling her. She glanced between the reddish light and the figure on the table. The initial shock faded, and a strange calm spread through her, tingling and alive. She turned back to the red glow and walked into the light.

  Chapter Four

  “Why is she still here? I didn’t call her back.” Dante paced back and forth in front of the sofa where Hayley lay with her face pale and pinched in pain. He fought the urge to go to her and relieve her distress. If he interfered too much, she wouldn’t be able to return to her world. “They were calling her back. I eased her pain, but something else kept her here.”

  She’d been unconscious for hours since she’d fallen in the mosh pit. He turned to the creature crouched in the shadows. He heard no response, other than the cold clink of metal upon metal. “Answer me, damn you!”

  The creature stretched to his full height. Metal joints creaked with his movements. He stepped closer. The dim light of the office reflected off the brass plating of his skin. His eyes gleamed red. “She had Charon’s mark, just like the other one, Master.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, Talos.” Dante wasn’t intimidated by the watchman Zeus had created, a beast fashioned from bronze in the shape of a man, to be given as a gift to King Minos, a flawed human. The king might have ruled Crete with an iron hand, but he’d had a fetish for bright, shiny things.

  Greed -- one of the nine deadly passions. Talos didn’t have a heart that could be tempted by gold, making Dante wonder what could tempt the metal man these days. Dante had no such weaknesses. He possessed more wealth than anyone cared to count. The only item he had ever desired and would never be his had been the bronze man’s downfall, too.

  “I took you in when you failed to protect Crete against the wiles of a woman. I thought you’d make the perfect gatekeeper.” Dante circled behind Talos to come up beside his ear. “Perhaps I was mistaken.”

  Talos didn’t move, but stared straight ahead. Dante’s whispered threat had no apparent effect on the metal man. But then, after a second, he spoke.

  “You could have let me die.”

  Dante heard
the hatred in the man’s voice. He circled back to face Talos. The red eyes gleamed with the bitterness the brass man felt at being forced to live in Hell. Dante wasn’t affected. He survived every nanosecond with the knowledge that all the creatures of Hell hated and feared him, except Gar.

  “We both know that if I hadn’t taken you, Zeus would have.” Dante moved back to the sofa and picked up a damp cloth. He reapplied the cool material to Hayley’s forehead.

  Her sigh tugged at something deep within him. His fingers played with a strand of her hair. So helpless, so fragile. A muscle in his jaw tightened when he realized what he did. He looked at Talos. “That’s a chance I couldn’t take.”

  “What’s wrong? Not enough souls in Hell; you have to take the ones who belong in the underworld, as well, and imprison them in Purgatory forever?”

  Dante reined in his fury at the insolence Talos flung at him. His nostrils flared to take in a deep, calming breath. He laughed, the sound bitter. “You know Hades and I have always been rivals, Talos. Just as Zeus and God have been.”

  “I didn’t know you and God were on speaking terms these days.”

  He shrugged. “We have an understanding.” He wiped Hayley’s brow. “Mainly that I keep Purgatory running smoothly, to give the humans a chance to move closer to Heaven. Their survival on earth depends on their preparation for reincarnation while down here.”

  “Things change.” Talos shrugged.

  To Dante the statement sounded a promise of things to come.

  “Yeah? Since when?” Dante wondered what kind of plot Zeus had hatched to overthrow him. It wouldn’t be the first time. As long as Dante kept Talos as his gatekeeper, no souls could enter the underworld, only Hell. He knew Hades needed fresh souls in order to keep his army of demons satisfied and under control, just as he did.

  He focused his empathic powers toward Talos, trying to read his emotions, but after a few seconds, gave up. Empathy was useless. The brass covered his skull as well as his body, blocking Dante’s ability. Only Dis could penetrate the metal, and Talos knew it.

 

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