Hot House: Dante and Hayley

by Sheri Gilmore

  Red eyes stared into black ones. Dante refused to blink. Talos lowered his gaze, but Dante felt no satisfaction at the small victory. Dis was the one with the true powers, not him.

  “Why not give her to me?” Talos’s eyes roved over Hayley’s body. “I’ll be happy to initiate her into the realm.” He drew one finger down the girl’s arm. “She looks like a good fuck.”

  Dante watched him place his finger in his mouth. His red eyes closed with an ecstatic shudder of his body.

  “Sweet.”

  A wave of jealousy rushed through Dante’s mind and body, so strong that when he stood, the power emanating from him forced the brass man to step back. His body temporarily blocked Talos’s view of Hayley.

  Red eyes full of lust met his once more. Dante kept his voice low and controlled. Losing control would allow his demon to gain freedom. He took a deep breath. “Until I know why she’s here, she stays with me.”

  “Sure you don’t want to initiate her yourself --” He grinned at Dante. “-- Master?”

  Dante’s arm jerked forward. Flesh connected with metal, and Talos staggered sideways. Dante’s fist throbbed, but he chose to ignore the pain rather than show any weakness to his foe’s old watchdog. Someway, somehow, Zeus had contacted Talos, and the two of them were responsible for this girl’s presence.

  “I’ve had enough of your insolence.” Dante turned his back to the man. “Get back to your post.”

  Music blared, then faded. The door clicked shut. Beside him, Hayley groaned. Dante experienced a wave of helplessness as he watched her twist and turn, struggling against an unseen force. He knew what she fought. Her world would try to keep her with them, and in the process she would experience the trauma of being torn between two realities. If she had been a true candidate for Hell, she would have come over to him when she had entered his office. The longer she stayed here, the more she risked losing her soul for all eternity. Even if she returned home, her sanity could be endangered. Those faced with the “truth” before their time often sacrificed more than they were willing to offer in their quest for knowledge.

  “Go back home, Hayley. You didn’t ask for this.”

  He bent and touched the damp cloth across her forehead, finding the cotton crisp and dry. His jaw tightened. Nothing stayed cool for long. Purgatory lay on the outer circles of Hell, but the temperature still soared in the range of discomfort -- a reminder for the souls waiting for reincarnation of what lay in store if they refused to grow and evolve while on earth. He dipped the rag into the tepid water on the table and returned it to her heated skin.

  She quieted for a second. He let his fingers trace the line of her jaw; his thumb circled her full lips. When he inhaled the scent of her hair and skin, his cock hardened.

  Talos’s accusation came back to him. The silkiness of her hair threaded through his fingers, and he closed his eyes with the sensations she aroused in him. She was clean, fresh, and ... innocent. His gums tingled, and deep within, his true nature howled to be set free.

  What did he care why she was here? The thought of Talos or some other demon touching her, licking her, driving their cock deep against her womb until she cried out in pain and pleasure, seared his mind.

  No! She had come to him. His hand tightened, knotting her hair around his fingers. Why couldn’t he be her initiator into Purgatory? His mouth and tongue moved over her lips. He groaned at the taste of her, like sweet honey, nectar of the gods. His body shook with the realization that if anyone took her, it would be him. He would give in to his weakness.

  Why not? He had been damned for all eternity eons ago for his sins. Why shouldn’t he burn a little longer for the corruption of one more soul? Dante sighed, knowing that this time, if he took this particular soul, it would truly be his doing and not their own.

  Little did man know, but they held their own destiny in their hands. “Satan” didn’t make man do the atrocities committed throughout the ages. Man did just fine on his own. He was just the “watcher” assigned, making sure everything ran smoothly.

  He eased away from her to sit on the edge of the table, and his gaze followed the line of her neck to her breasts, rising and falling gently with her breathing. Her neckline scooped low, but not obscenely so. He spotted her necklace on the end table and remembered the initials he’d read earlier: H.B.T.

  Hayley B. Thomas.

  Hayley B.

  Beatrice?

  Dante felt his spine stiffen. It couldn’t be. His gaze went to her face to study the classical features in repose. He shook his head, but knew his suspicions were right. Her face appeared different, but her soul and scent called to him. Why had he not recognized her before now?

  Zeus. Somehow the Greek god had masked her scent from him. Many of the souls he amassed were here for all eternity. But some stayed for a few years or a few hundred, based upon their sins, to be reincarnated onto earth and serve their next level of Purgatory. If they passed their trial, they moved a little closer to Heaven, their stint on earth but a second with their souls intact throughout their faith journey.

  If they failed to advance spiritually on earth, and exhausted all the levels, like him, their souls came back to serve as whores for the multitude of demons who were his army. All hope for a new chance at life on earth and salvation burned up in the fires of Hell.

  His fist tightened. Zeus had found Lilith’s and Beatrice’s soul and planned to use Dante’s misguided love for them to crush the gateway to Hell. With nowhere else to go, all souls would come to Hades and be used again by Zeus and the other Olympian gods to cause mayhem on earth. The old religions would rule once more.

  Dante couldn’t let that happen. There was no love lost between him and the Maker, but he’d promised to do everything within his power to preserve the faith and not break any more rules. He’d promised after Beatrice, another woman whom he’d thought had truly loved him, had betrayed him.

  He looked at Hayley. She might share their soul, but he sensed that she was not the same as Beatrice, or Lilith. He didn’t love her. He desired her, like Dis craved Lilith. The two could be kept separate. The love he’d felt for Beatrice he could not deny, but ... Hayley’s passion, he could.

  She breathed deeply and then sighed before she woke. Gray eyes stared into his, and Dante felt his control slip. Poets said eyes were the gateway to the soul, and at that moment he believed them. Hayley had Beatrice’s eyes, not Lilith’s, and his reaction to her was the same.

  “Am I dreaming?”

  He shook his head, not sure he trusted his voice.

  “I’m still in ... Hell?”

  He nodded. The look of sadness and confusion on her face tore at the place his heart once occupied. The desire to pull her into his arms and wipe away her pain knotted in his gut. He knew she didn’t belong here. She was what he’d thought Beatrice to be at one time: good and beautiful. Her soul had transcended the most difficult levels of Purgatory. She should be but one step away from Heaven.

  Taste her! The darkness in his soul rose. God, what her lifeblood would give him! He could feast on her soul for years and never need another to satisfy the loneliness or abate the nightmares that burned into his black soul every time he allowed himself to sleep. His incisors lengthened, cutting into his flesh, but he refused to open his mouth and scare Hayley. The taste of blood coated his tongue. If he didn’t swallow, he’d choke.

  He closed his eyes and fought his urge. His hands gripped the edges of the coffee table he sat on. Sweat broke across his forehead, but he pushed his desire down to the bottom of his gut. The burning in his gums and lungs receded for the moment.

  “What’s wrong?”

  The cool touch of her fingers on his skin singed like the flamed tattoos marking the “watcher” who happened to reign over Hell. He jerked his arm away. A new wave of desire brought on by her nearness attacked his weakening reserve.

  His head bowed to fight the demon that dwelled within him, always a part of him, and the part that desired Lilith. He raise
d his gaze to Hayley. The pain intensified with the effort to speak, but he had to protect her. “Get ... away ... from me.”

  He didn’t want to see the look on her face when she saw the heartless beast he truly was. If the hardened bitches he’d loved and desired years before couldn’t stand him, then Hayley would be no exception. If she didn’t leave in the next few seconds, he wouldn’t be able to control what he’d do to her. The need to possess grew too strong. The part of him that God had denied wanted her too much.

  “Ahhhh ...” His skin burned with the feel of claws tearing flesh. He fell to the floor, twisting and turning. The spasms wracked his body until his muscles knotted. The nature of the beast could not be held within. He curled into a ball and surrendered. The demon took control. The laughter in his mind told him the dark angel was free.

  You, fool. Look at her, ripe and fresh.

  Laughter echoed. Dante grabbed his head, the words reverberating around his skull.

  If you won’t take her, I will.

  “No!” Dante fought the pain, but the demon pushed his more rational self aside. With a deep breath of satisfaction, Dis revealed himself, reveling in his newfound freedom with an arch of his back.

  “Dante?” Hayley called from her huddled position on the sofa. Dante’s eyes had been iridescent when he looked up at her with his head bowed in pain. He’d told her to leave, but the voice she’d heard wasn’t his. His body had contorted in some sort of seizure, his back arching to the point of breaking. Now he lay on the floor, still as death.

  Unsure of what had happened earlier, her thoughts were fragmented, but she remembered the pain and that somehow he’d helped her. Now he needed help, and she wouldn’t abandon him. She owed him that much. The two sides he presented confused but fascinated her, like a moth drawn to a flame; she had to find what the attraction to this man meant. If she’d ever met him before, no way could she have forgotten, but somehow she knew him.

  She eased her legs off the edge of the sofa like she’d done when she had been a little girl and had to use the bathroom, afraid of the bogeyman under her bed.

  “Be brave, be brave, be brave,” she chanted, her shoes quiet against the floor. Her fingers reached for her talisman, engraved with her initials and the names of three guardian angels. The silver wasn’t there. She stopped.

  A moment of panic seized her at the loss of her most prized possession. Her great-grandmother had given her the necklace, which had been blessed by a rabbi and a priest, the day she’d been born. She had never been without the sacred item.

  “Get a grip; it’s just a necklace.” She forced her feet forward. “I’m not superstitious like Grandma.”

  Two steps closer and she knelt beside Dante’s body. She nudged him with her finger. Please don’t be dead.

  “Dante, can you hear me?” She shook his arm. His skin radiated warmth, but no response could be elicited.

  Oh, God. Shaky fingers felt for a pulse in his neck, and she let out a relieved sigh when she found the steady throb. Hayley rolled him onto his back and looked into his face.

  He looked as if he were asleep, but something felt ... different. Her hand smoothed across his cheek and chin; the scratchy sensation from his stubble chafed but stimulated her skin. The thought of his roughness against the smoothness of her inner thighs crossed her mind. She jerked her hand back.

  What should she do now? He was breathing, and his pulse was strong. Her fingers tapped against his arm. Hayley thought of Gar. The giant would know what to do for his master.

  Master. She forced the reality of her words from her mind. If she thought of him as the devil, then she’d go crazy. He was just a male, and she’d treat him like she did every other man she had problems with.

  Right. Who are you kidding? She laughed and pushed against the floor with her hands to rise. This was no ordinary man.

  “What are you laughing at, little girl?”

  Hayley froze. The voice came from Dante, but she didn’t recognize the timbre. Dante’s voice held a deep warmth and richness. The voice addressing her sounded cold and raspy, the syllables rusty from non-use.

  Before she could move, a hand grabbed her upper arm and pulled, drawing her closer against Dante’s chest. She shivered at the sudden touch of cold flesh, like death. Her instincts screamed in retreat. Seconds before, his skin had been warm and alive. She tried to pull away, but her attempts to struggle were short-lived.

  “No. I don’t want you!” Her scream echoed around the room, but no further.

  The beast laughed, then quickly rolled her beneath him. He straddled her hips and pinned her arms to the floor above her head. His eyes glinted, reflecting her face, pale with fear, in their depths.

  “Well, you’ve got me, for better or worse.” He threw his head back and laughed, the sound eerie and haunting. “We’ll be like every other old, married couple. Now, feed me, sweet Hayley.”

  He clasped both her wrists in his left hand and leaned down on that elbow, his face an inch from hers, fangs glinted with his demonic smile. With his right hand he tapped her nose in a playful gesture. This thing had Dante’s face, but the beauty she’d seen when he smiled earlier wasn’t there. Evil emanated from the features above her. Evil and lust.

  Hayley’s breath came in short gasps, but she managed not to hyperventilate. Fear rose in her throat, but she swallowed the bitter taste threatening to choke her. Stay calm. She had to think of some way to throw him off.

  “Don’t bother, babe.” His finger moved across her cheek, down her chin, and across her breast. “Unlike that weak, sniveling --” He stopped his tirade and licked her cheek. “I know what you’re thinking.” His hand traveled lower and eased under her sweater.

  “I know what you want.” His sensual words whispered like the hiss of a serpent.

  Hayley bucked her hips, making him laugh harder, the sound cold and cruel to her ears, but somehow stimulating. “Stop!”

  His hand hesitated for a minute; the smile faded. His strange eyes studied her with the same intense stare Dante had used. He laid his hand flat against her belly and feathered his fingers back and forth across her skin.

  Hayley pictured his long black fingernails scraping her skin at the same time the sensations attacked her nervous system. Surprisingly, they weren’t repulsive as she’d imagined. A tingling began low in her abdomen and spread to her clitoris.

  What was happening to her? She closed her eyes to the face above hers and tried to fight her arousal. She was in Hell, and whoever held her in his arms wasn’t Dante.

  She clenched her teeth. “Get off me, you bastard.”

  The hand stilled. The eyes glittered brighter, closer. Cold lips covered hers at the same instant his forefinger and thumb pinched the tip of her nipple. Her hips arched against his of their own accord, and she opened her mouth under pure instinct to take his tongue. Moisture built between her legs with a slow, steady throb of her clit.

  Then he was gone. He rolled off her but kept a firm grip on her wrists to pull her up beside him when he stood. His right hand rose, and Hayley shut her eyes in defense, but he only feathered his black fingernails through her hair. She bit her lip and stared at his chest.

  “Now, babe, I’m not going to beat you. Yet.” He laughed. “Don’t get mad with your poor body for wanting to have a little fun.” He twirled her around like a ballerina. With three turns, she stood next to the sofa, where he eased her down with one arm behind her back. He knelt in front of her and trapped her knees between his thighs.

  His pelvis pressed closer; his penis rubbed against her knees. “It knows exactly what it wants.” He leaned forward and flicked her cheek, like a snake, with his tongue ring, cool and wet against her skin. “What I want, too.”

  Hayley closed her eyes and forced herself to hold still.

  “You are Lilith, and the true nature of your soul wants me to fuck you.”

  If she didn’t react, he wouldn’t get any enjoyment. This one fed on her fear and the mortification of how h
e’d made her respond to him. He’d wallow in the knowledge that his words made her afraid and excited at the same time. She turned her head to look at Dante’s library, and tried to ignore the demon’s erection, hard and alive. It throbbed with a will of its own, brushing against the thin fabric of her jeans, demanding entrance between the folds of her cunt.

  She choked on a sob. The desire to feel his dick between her legs and inside her body hummed through her. She had to fight this. If she didn’t respond --

  “If you think I’m not getting off because you refuse to play, you’re wrong.”

  She tried to pull away, but he held her fast, and her fear turned to anger.

  “Who are you, and where’s Dante?”

  He moved to sit on the coffee table. “I wondered when you’d ask.”

  Cold hands slid down her arms and caught her behind her knees. Goosebumps raced over her skin at the way he knew her body. The way he touched her suggested they had been intimate many times, but she didn’t know this one. Did she? He had called her Lilith, and his personality felt ... familiar.

  With one fierce pull, he had her legs straddling his hips. Hayley leaned back, but he held her fast. With a mere flex of his arm muscles, he brought her chest to chest, face to face, with her enemy. When they were flush, strong hands bit into her waist to hold her in place, his dick straining to enter her.

  “I’m what your momma and your priest warned you about, little girl.” His voice changed tones and timbre throughout the sentence from deep and raspy to high pitched and wheezy.

  Hayley felt the blood drain from her face. She shook her head. “No, this isn’t real.” She pushed against his chest, but he didn’t move. “This can’t be happening.”

  “But it is, Hayley.” He leaned forward and kissed her neck. “I’m called many different things by many people. Take your pick.” His teeth pricked her skin. “The name Dante is just one of them.”