Descent: A Trenton Investigations Novella

by Felicia Beasley

Wes grabbed my hands again, distracting me from the siren call of wealth. “Corpses can’t spend money.”

  Touché. “You know what they’ll do to her for escaping.”

  His grip on my hands tightened to the point of pain. “Not our problem.”

  He did not just say that.

  “Where would you be if my brother had been that selfish?”

  He let go of my hands and stood, looking down at me like a giant to an ant. “You’re not your brother.”

  Ouch. He wasn’t wrong. I could never live up to Damian. He was a superhero, and I was just Lois Lane. The damsel needing saving.

  But he wasn’t here to save me anymore. All I had was Wes.

  “I can’t do this on my own. I need my partner.”

  He shook his head, acting like I was asking for a kidney instead.

  “I won’t assist in your suicide.”

  If he thought his refusal was going to make me give up, he didn’t know me very well.

  I stood and slammed my fists against the top of my desk. The laminate splintered.

  Unlike Wes, the angrier I was, the louder I got. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  His lip curled into a sneer that didn’t belong on his face. “Wrong with me? You are the one with a Messiah complex. You can’t save everyone, Lex.”

  “I can at least try. That’s what Damian would want.”

  “You have no idea what he wanted,” he yelled.

  I shrank back, my heart hammering in my chest, freaked the fuck out.

  Wes never yelled. Sometimes I called him an automaton, programmed to pretend to understand feelings but lacking the capacity actually to feel them.

  He didn’t like it when I called him that. And now he was demonstrating just how wrong I was.

  He paced the cramped office. The fluorescent lights made his skin appear sallow. He looked ill. He went from twenty-three to fifty in the blink of an eye.

  I watched, mesmerized, as he struggled to regain his composure.

  He failed.

  So I decided to make it worse. In for a penny, am I right? “I’m not going to cower in the corner just because he’s bigger and badder than me.”

  Wes stopped moving. “I’m trying to protect you.”

  “Protect me? If you wanted to protect me, you’d back me up. This is about control.”

  He narrowed his eyes. I think I hit a nerve.

  “I’m not trying to control you, Lex. I’m trying to stop you from making a huge mistake.”

  He had no faith in me. I was just a stupid kid that needed to be protected from my folly.

  “I don’t think you’re at all worried about my life. If you were, you’d have my back. Instead, you run away, tail between your legs, like a coward.”

  His face went fire engine red. “It’s not cowardice to know when you’re out of your league. It’s just smart.” He stomped over to the exit like a petulant teenager.

  He opened the door but didn’t walk out. He sighed, long and hard, like an exhausted father with a newborn. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

  “You’d have to stick around for that to happen.”

  He said nothing, just slammed the door behind him. The open sign shuddered and rattled against the glass.

  I pushed down my abandonment issues by clinging to my righteous anger.

  I vowed to prove him wrong.

  I was going to save that girl, even if it killed me.

  Chapter 3

  The already setting sun washed the horizon in colors of red and purple as I pounded down the wet sidewalk that led from my office to the closest waypoint three blocks away.

  My bare arms erupted into goosebumps as the cold air from the earlier spring rain lingered, threatening to pour more buckets on my head. I should have brought an umbrella.

  Or a jacket.

  It was only five minutes away, and I would be glad not to have one once I entered Sheol.

  Place was bloody hot this time of year.

  I turned down the dead-end alley. The looming buildings prevented any light from penetrating the roaming shadows. Even at high noon, this place rejected light like a cheerleader rejects that nerdy band geek.

  It reeked of piss, trash, and shit. Familiar smells. Sheol wouldn’t be much better. I passed a couple of vagrants drinking whiskey from paper bags. They didn’t notice, lost in their misery.

  The heartstrings tugged. No one would choose this life. It was the stacks of Killian’s bribe that kept me from being one of them. But it wouldn’t last, and the threat of homelessness would return.

  I’d be drinking rum, though. Tasted better.

  The bricked wall at the end of the alley loomed ahead. The pulse of invisible magic grew stronger with each step. Only a demon, or part-demon in my case, could feel it. Which was a boon. Anyone else-angel, sentinel, human-would have tried to destroy the portal to hell.

  That would suck for me. I’d have to walk another ten minutes to the next one.

  I pressed my palm against the unnaturally hot wall, closed my eyes, and pictured the streets of downtown Heraeth, the capital city in Lilith’s territory.

  Being pulled from the mortal realm to the realm of demons felt a lot like being jerked with a chain. Unable to fight the pressure, no matter your strength. Physics or something.

  I never opened my eyes during travel. I didn’t know what I would see, and I had no desire to find out. I’d heard some go insane at what they saw. Knowing my luck, I’d come face to face with Cthulhu.

  It took only a few seconds, even if those seconds stretched longer than normal. I don’t think time even exists in the void between dimensions.

  I knew I had arrived when the punishing, dry wind scorched my cheeks.

  Sheol had the reputation of being hotter than hell, but it was a misnomer. It had seasons just like Earth. You can freeze your nipples off in winter.

  Sheol just experienced temperatures more extreme. Just another punishment from the angels.

  I didn’t often visit, with good reason. It was the home of the demons, ruthless creatures controlled by their vices. Cruelty and narcissism ran rampant through the streets.

  Heraeth reminded me of those old western towns from the movies. Covered in dirt, dust everywhere, and backward when it came to tech and treatment.

  Instead of revolvers strapped to the side, demons had more natural instruments of death. More dangerous, too. You can’t bring a gun to a claw fight.

  I passed cambions collared and half-dragged behind their masters on leashes. It wasn’t just half-breeds enslaved, either. Lesser demons, too weak to fight back, remained ensconced by those in power. Might means right.

  Most of the time. Cleverness can get you far, too.

  It was my only chance of making it through this alive.

  I caught plenty of stares. Curiosity, hunger, disgust. Each demon I passed wanted me for something. I didn’t appreciate their interest. Not even the incubus with the tight leather pants who puckered his lips in my direction and then made a not so vague sexual gesture with his hands.

  Being seen as a slab of meat was such a turn-off.

  Most of the demons I passed were incubi and succubi since this was Lilith’s territory. Still, I saw a couple of nagas, a few petra, and even a single infernal.

  I kept a wide berth from that. Those guys are nasty.

  I pulled on the hem of my red tank top, exposing the intricate tattoo on my left shoulder blade. It looked like a winged serpent, its tail twisted into a symbol reminiscent of the Celts.

  Of course, my family tree stretched back much further than their existence.

  The flourishes marked me as a member of the Rayne family, virtually untouchable unless they wanted to deal with my father.

  Dad was well-known for being merciless against those that targeted his kin. But demons aren’t always the smartest bunch and a dead cambion can’t point her finger at her murderer.

  Gladys remained strapped against my thigh, and I made no effort to hide her.
Maybe she would give a hungry demon pause.

  I stalked down the dirt street, keeping an eye out for anyone thinking they’d get lucky with me.

  Flesh peddlers shouted their prices, claiming they had the juiciest morsels credit could buy. My stomach churned.

  Even though I hadn’t eaten since the yogurt at breakfast, human on a stick didn’t sound appealing at all.

  I ended up taking two wrong turns and getting turned around. It’s not like I could ask for directions. That would show weakness, not a smart move on my part.

  By the time I reached the address I’d been given, sweat dripped down the back of my neck, moistening the fabric of my top.

  The three-story monstrosity in front of me wept wealth and privilege. I could look forward to arrogance and condescension. The more powerful the demon, the bigger the dick. Personality wise, not what dangled between their legs.

  Killian hadn’t told me anything about the demon inside. I didn’t even know what breed he’d be. All I had was a name.

  Leab. No last name. That didn’t bode well. Either Killian didn’t want me to know what family Leab belonged to or he didn’t belong to any.

  That would be worse. Family bestowed power, but it also came with limitations. In Sheol, reputation is everything. Do something to make your clan look bad, and you’d no longer be invited to dinner.

  I knocked, my fist clanging against the metal door. I took a deep breath. No matter what happened, I couldn’t lose my temper. It would reflect poorly on my family and probably end with me in a grave, by his hand or my father’s.

  A diminutive blonde, no older than thirteen, opened the door and stared up at me. Which was a bit of a feat considering I’m barely five feet tall.

  Her blue eyes were unfocused, like a drug addict in need of a fix. I doubted it was drugs she craved.

  My stomach did a somersault at the implication.

  She wore a little cloth wrapped tightly around her body like a mummy costume teenagers buy to attract the male eye. Only on the girl, it wasn’t sexy. It was just degrading.

  The sorry excuse for clothes did nothing to hide the yellow and purple bruises marring her pale skin. When she turned to guide me silently to her master, I saw jagged red gashes. The blood smeared on her back was still slick. It didn’t hide the bright white of her old scars.

  I took three more deep breaths before following the girl. I already wanted to stab this asshole in the eye.

  We walked down an ornately decorated hall. I got an eyeful of the demon’s extracurricular activities. Photos of boys and girls, none of them too far past puberty, strung up in painful looking contraptions, bodies contorted in explicitly sexual poses, littered the walls.

  Bile rose in my throat, and I found myself gripping the hilt of my blade. I wouldn’t be able to call this a win until I was able to bury my sword in this monster’s gut.

  Not that it would change anything here. I’d need a nuclear arsenal to cleanse Sheol of monsters.

  The girl opened the rich mahogany door with intricately inlaid golden patterns. Another display of decadence. Who needs a gold door unless they are compensating for something?

  She stepped back and bowed before scurrying off somewhere else. I entered.

  After the garish display I’d just been subjected to, I expected a sex dungeon or at least something tacky. Instead, the room held an elegant simplicity.

  Bookcases upon bookcases lined the walls. Plush crimson couches were arranged in a way that told me that this demon was concerned about Feng Shui.

  I admit. I was a bit jealous. I could never afford all these books.

  An incubus lounged on one of the couches, annoyance painted on his handsome features. He oozed with primal sexuality. Suddenly my forehead wasn’t the only part of me that was wet.

  He put down the book in his hands, giving me his full attention. He studied me like a scientist studies bacteria under a microscope. I probably was no better than a strain of bacteria in his eyes.

  The way he looked at me, I could tell I wasn’t his type by close to a decade.

  “Who exactly are you?” he asked, his deep timbre voice reminding me of Darth Vader. Somehow it sounded sexier coming from this beast.

  I swallowed my self-disgust and tried to paint a neutral expression on my face. I’m pretty sure I failed.

  “Alexis Rayne.”

  I gave my father’s name instead of my own. Maybe that would garner a little respect. Or at least make him think twice about crushing me.

  From the sneer that appeared on his face, it didn’t. “I see. And what, pray tell, do you want?”

  His put on airs told me he hadn’t been born with power.

  Demons who clawed their way to garish mansions resented those who’d been born to rule. It didn’t matter how far you climbed, everyone knew that you came from nothing. And no one let you forget it. Memories are long.

  This guy was far more dangerous than Killian. Knowing what it’s like to have nothing made the grip on what you do have that much tighter.

  Underestimating this Leab would be a mistake I wouldn’t live through.

  “I’m here to find your slave.” No point in small talk.

  He scoffed. “You?”

  “I’m resourceful.”

  He sighed and buried his head in his hands. “I’m desperate. Flora was my favorite.”

  Poor Flora. I don’t think favorite was a good thing.

  “When did you notice her missing?”

  “Yesterday morning. She missed breaking her fast.” Regret tinged his voice. Did he actually miss her?

  For most masters, cambion slaves are interchangeable. When one broke, they were replaced. Pride kept demons from just writing off the loss of an escaped slave, though. Only a weak demon loses his cattle.

  “Yesterday? Took you long enough to ask for help.” Her trail would be cold which only made my job harder.

  “I didn’t.”

  What game was Killian playing at here? I doubted he cared one way or another about this guy’s problem.

  A puzzle for another time. “I’d like to talk to the rest of your, uh, staff. Was there anyone she was close to?”

  He waved his hand in my direction, dismissing me without even answering my question. “Then do it.”

  “You don’t seem to care all that much that she’s gone.”

  I immediately regretted that word vomit.

  He lifted his amber colored eyes from the dusty tome he’d been reading and stared me down. “You dare speak to me in that tone?”

  My gaze darted to the exit behind me. Ten feet. Could I make it before the incubus pounced?

  Not damn likely.

  He got up and stalked over to me. I took a few steps back, but it was useless.

  He stopped close enough that I could smell the musk of his cologne. It didn’t cover up the stench of brimstone. I recoiled.

  He reached out and grasped my chin. He leaned down, hot breath caressing my cheek like a lover’s kiss, breath that smelled a lot like blood.

  I swallowed. My heart raced. Flight, fight or freeze kicked in and I reached down to grasp Gladys’ hilt. I pressed the blade against his Adam’s apple, putting enough pressure to break the skin.

  It wouldn’t matter who my daddy was, murdering an incubus was one of the gravest crimes, second only to betraying the queen.

  I could probably get away with maiming him, though.

  He reacted instantly, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back, exposing my neck at the same time he twisted my wrist making me drop my only weapon.

  Next time I was going to bring some damn grenades.

  He put his left hand on my shoulder and pushed me to my knees. His other hand kept a firm grip on my locks, keeping me at his mercy.

  Even though I was eye level with his crotch, there was nothing sexual in his actions. He just wanted me to know that I had no power here.

  A smart person would keep her mouth shut. A weak one would beg for leniency.

  “Yo
u’re not my type,” I sneered.

  Apparently, I’m neither.

  He smacked me across the face, driving me to the floor. I reached for Gladys, her familiar cool hilt comforting. She did nothing for me flat on my belly.

  Before I could get up, he put his foot on my back and pressed me down, so I was kissing carpet.

  At least it was soft.

  “Do you think I care whose bastard you are?”

  “He knows I’m here.” The floor muffled my words. “Kill me and suffer the consequences.” I tried to sound tough, but using daddy’s name to get myself out of this made me weak.

  I wanted to kill him. Save all the victims he kept locked in his palace.

  But I’m not that dumb. When the light left his eyes, it’d be somewhere no one would find the body.

  I just had to convince him not to squash me like a bug now.

  He ground his foot into my back, and a rib snapped. I cried out, fire racing through my body.

  It could have been worse. Had he wanted to kill me, he would have driven his heel through my head, making me a bloody pancake on his carpet. Maybe he did want my help. Or he was a tiny bit afraid of my dad’s wrath.

  Or maybe he just didn’t want to get brains on the carpet.

  After a few agonizing seconds, he lifted his foot and went back to his seat.

  I slowly pulled myself to standing, every movement igniting another wave of pain. I nearly hurled my lunch. I almost passed out. I was just about to give him the finger.

  Fear kept me from succumbing to any of those urges.

  Breathing hurt. Walking hurt more. I dragged myself from the room, feeling useless. I had suffered worse injuries in the past, but that didn’t make me feel any better.

  My resolution to find the slave reached an all-time high.

  I needed the bait to lure the king from his castle.

  Chapter 4

  No one else in the house would speak to me. They ran from me like rats from a mongoose. Apparently, they didn’t care if Flora came home.

  Having accomplished exactly nothing in my failed interrogations, I’d asked one of the silent guards to point me in the direction of where Flora rested her head. Maybe I’d find a clue there.