by Maribel Fox
Hell Bound
Maribel Fox
Copyright © 2018 by Maribel Fox
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
About the Author
For Aaron, even though he was a pain in the ASS while outlining, and Jake, who’s just not feelin’ it - they’re still our biggest fans.
…..right?
…………
……………guys?
Rest in peace Sabbath; the most ferocious tomcat to roam the mean streets of North Richland.
1
Ku
For the first two hundred years or so, the sleep spell seemed to be doing its job.
Then the nightmares came.
Maybe I mistranslated something when studying the spell, an addendum or footnote integral to preventing this kind of thing. The spell was for dreamless sleep. No where did it mention it would degrade into tossing and turning and terror a few centuries in.
It’s subtle when it begins. Dull throbbing in my head, a minor discomfort. Minor enough to ignore while I sleep on. Slumber is the best option for me anyway. Better than anything that’s waiting for me out in the regular world.
The headaches intensify over the years. Decades pass and the pain is sharp enough to nearly rouse me on its own. If I’d been fighting a curse, it may have given me the strength I needed to break its hold. But as I’d put myself under willingly, and had no desire to wake, it wasn’t quite enough to do the trick.
Soon, the headaches start bringing nightmares with them. Nothing substantial that I can hold onto or remember, just an overwhelming feeling of anguish, fear, and suffocation. Curious enough to rouse my interest, but I’m determined to sleep on.
Of course, in a matter of years, the nightmares morph into something more solid, a world of purple fire, burning agony. One minute, peaceful slumber, the next, lilac flames engulfing me, pain and misery becoming the only things I know.
I keep thinking it’ll stop. That this has to end at some point. All nightmares do, don’t they? But there’s only so much I can take. Only so much fire and torment I can endure, even if it’s all in my head.
I fear it’s a test and waking myself will cause me to fail. My will is being evaluated, and I have to hold strong. I desired this sleep, I studied for months to learn the spell well enough to cast it on myself, I can’t allow some unpleasant dreams to shake my resolve.
Until I see her.
A gorgeous woman, features strong and regal despite her haunted eyes and sunken cheeks. Her complexion has the warm glow of sun-baked sandstone, her hair dark as onyx, just as shiny.
I don’t believe she’s a dragon. Everything about her screams ‘demon,’ but why would my dreams feature a demon? How is she slipping past my walls? Nothing short of the dragon mating call should be able to do such a thing, and yet, she’s reaching into my mind and demanding my attention.
I don’t even think she knows she’s doing it.
Despite this being nothing like the dragon mating call I’ve always yearned for, this woman… She needs help. That much is obvious. What I see of her comes in bits and pieces, flashes of her, of the fire, the pain and a sense of desperation I’m all too familiar with. I want to reach out to her somehow, reach back through the dreams, but that isn’t something I’ve studied. If I want to learn how to do that, I’m going to have to wake up.
If I’m going to help her at all, I’m going to have to wake up.
As though she sees me, her eyes lift, ringed by thick, dark lashes. They’re tilted at the corners, giving her the look that she’s wearing kohl on her lids, though I’m sure she’s not. Her pupils widen, shifting to bright violet as it seems she’s staring directly into my soul, like for the first time I’m as real to her as she feels to me..
My eyes snap open, I’m so startled.. She saw me? Does that mean… she’s a real person? I’m filled with a sense of welling determination… and quite a few questions. Who is she? Was she the one sending the nightmares? Why? If I want answers, which I always do, I’m going to have to search her out. And that means facing the world once more.
I shake myself awake, head shifting from stone first, rocks and pebbles flying out of my ears as I work to rid myself of a couple of centuries of debris. My eyes feel crusted shut, and I slowly manage to pry them open as feeling and warmth spreads through the rest of my body.
As I blink away the sleep, I’m alarmed to notice a couple of humans standing nearby, looking up at me with mouths slack, eyes wide. One of them yelps, pointing, waving frantically, and I’m expecting projectiles to follow. Spears and torches. Flaming arrows, magic missiles.
No thank you.
There’s a bright flash from one of them, and I sink back into the ground with a startled noise of my own — what? It’s not like it’s a particularly pleasant way to wake up — and try not to panic while I follow the sound of their footsteps on the earth.. I wait, realize there aren’t any noises of fury and vengeance like I’ve come to expect from humans who encounter a dragon, and I slowly shift back out of the ground, unwrapping my body from around the hill I’d chosen to curl up around so long ago.
Everything’s achy and sore — what did I expect after a two hundred and fifty year nap? — and I stretch my front legs out, arching my back in, then out, taking a deep breath before I start to move.
That first step reminds me how long it’s been since I’ve had my feet under me. I trip and stumble, my tail, with a mind of its own, hits some sort of sign that splinters and flies off into the trees. I only barely manage to avoid falling over on my side completely as I try to right myself, my tail snagging in these strange black vines that yank back at me before snapping with a rain of fire. On instinct, I turn to stone, and the vines are twitching and hissing like snakes come to life. I’ve never seen anything like it, and it’s curious enough to entice me out of stoneshape, inching closer to the strange, wild fire-snake-vine.
What is it?
It’s connected, I see, to a support, a pole as tall as the trees. That pole has more of these snake vines, and there’s another pole after it… fascinating.
The world has changed since I fell asleep, it seems, and I have a lot to learn. It would be more exciting if it weren’t for this pain.
Now that I’m awake, that headache that was only sometimes bothering me in my dreams is always hurting. I think it’s that girl. I think she’s trying to reach out to me, even if she doesn’t know it.
Odd that it would be me when there are so many others to take the mantle.
I shake myself off again, and strain for the sound of other nearby humans, other than the ones that had scared me. I hear nothing near
by, that’s good. Hopefully they didn’t go for reinforcements. My history with humans isn’t great, and when I picked this hill, I thought I was well enough away from any of their settlements to ensure they wouldn’t disturb me — nor I, them.
When I start to walk around a little more I realize this hillside has changed quite a bit since I fell asleep. It was far away from anyone and anything when I chose this spot, but now, it looks like there are paths all over, leading to roads — there’s even a village nearby. The view is filled with the ugly black vines, coming from all directions, connecting the village like a spider’s web running through it. I stumble, not looking where I’m going, and spot the sign that suffered the wrath of my tail.
The sign says ‘Dragon Mound,’ and tells the not-altogether-inaccurate story of a dragon who was cursed to sleep for an eternity. Apparently I’ve been referenced in a few important texts, some poetry, and was even the site of a battle or two.
Not bad.
I make a mental note of the referenced works, intending to look them up later.
I didn’t wake myself up to read stories about what people have been doing on the mountain I’d made my bed, though. There’s a gorgeous woman out there who needs help. I don’t know what kind of help she needs — or why it’s me that can provide it — but ignoring the nightmares isn’t going to work.
Maybe if I help her, I can go back to sleep in peace. Back to sleep without dreams of burning rooms and scared, broken women with haunting purple eyes.
Think — how can I find her?
As I traversed the hillside, I noticed that when I moved to one side of the hill, my headache intensified. It could have been a coincidence, so I decide to try it again.
I head to one side of the hill, the pain in my head dulling slightly, but still pressing behind my eyes, pressure pulsing there, making my eyes do funny things. When I go to the other side of the hill, though, there’s a sharp stab, and intense shooting pain that tells me I’m headed in the right direction.
Right might be a subjective term in this instance. Tromping off in the direction that makes my head hurt worse isn’t exactly my idea of a good way to spend a day after a nice, long nap, but my idea of a nice day very rarely aligns with the reality of being a dragon.
Something tells me that this isn’t going to be a short trip, and the best way I know to travel long distances is to swim — through the earth of course. If I knew where I was going, I could teleport, but needing to follow the trail so to speak, this is the better option.
Still in my dragon form, I give myself over to the earth, feeling it soften and liquefy, swallowing me up, welcoming me into the crust of the planet. There’s no place where I end and the rocks begin, it’s all the same like this, and moving is effortless.
I’m glad for it too, considering how much my head’s throbbing by the time I decide to surface.
I break ground in a clearing in a forest, tall cedars and pines closing in tight. Before I risk being spotted again, I shift and summon clothing — another handy spell I’ve taught myself that others frequently fail to see the usefulness of — and then I set off to find out what I can about this place, this pain in my head, and the woman with the violet eyes.
It’s early afternoon, wherever I am, and I can hear a small child not far away.
“Come on, don’t be like that. You know Ava said no more fresh meals. She’s worried you’re gonna start eating pets,” the child says, making me arch a brow.
Curiosity piqued, I follow the sound of his voice — and a rather odd squawking sound — to a break in the woods with a pond. There’s a young boy leaning at the water’s edge, and he’s holding out what appears to be raw meat in an offering to what has to be the most hideous bird I’ve ever seen. It’s the size of a goose, but with beady red eyes, and a bill full of razor-sharp teeth. Its feathers are patchy and gray, like its mid-molt, and the moment the thing spots me, it hisses.
I’m not sure whether I want to study it or hide from it.
The boy turns and looks surprised to see me there behind him.
“Hi,” he says, not getting up from the waterside. Must be a noble’s son. A Lord or Prince perhaps? Would explain the exotic pet.
“Hello,” I say, spotting the house beyond the pond that I hadn’t seen at first — that bird is distracting.
“Don’t worry about Sabbath, he gets like this around new people. Ava says it’s not good for business if he goes around hissing at guests…” The boy makes a face, even as the awful creature takes the meat from his hand. “People just need to give him a chance,” he says. The bird nuzzles into his hand, making an unsettling rattling sound that I think means it’s happy.
“Guests?” I ask. I don’t know why my headache brought me to this place, or what this place is — perhaps this ‘Ava’ is the woman I’m looking for? She doesn’t sound like she’s in distress though, if she’s running things.
The boy nods. “You’re not staying here?”
“No?”
He stands after giving the bird the last scraps of meat, and brushes dirt off his knees — they’re still grass-stained, I’m sure his governess will love that — before giving me a thorough once-over.
“You need a place to stay though, don’t you?”
“What makes you say that?” I ask, interested in his deductive process.
“We’re the only place in town, and you’re not from around here. Come on, I’ll take you to the front desk. I’m Ian, by the way, what’s your name?”
It seems I have no choice but to follow the boy. He is right about me needing a place to stay while I investigate my dreams and the woman from them, and if this is the only place in town, I can’t fault his logic.
“Ku,” I answer.
He looks up at me, his face scrunched up like he’s just tasted something that doesn’t agree with him. “Is that short for something? The only reason I ask is ‘cause we already have a Kush, and it seems like that might get confusing…”
“Kū-ka-ili-moku,” I respond.
Ian’s head tilts to the side, his jaw dropping a fraction. Finally, he nods, his mouth snapping shut, jaw set in determination.
“Ku’s okay. It won’t be that confusing.”
2
Maal
Another night, more endless tossing and turning.
How long has that been going on? The last couple of decades, maybe?
I feel like I was up all night, not in a nightmarish haze of forced vigilance I don’t understand the need for. It’s like I’m on alert for something, like I’m being told that this isn’t the time for rest, even when I force my body to spend the night in bed and the hours slip by without anything to show for them. I still wake up feeling like a zombie.
Which is bullshit.
Sleeping’s the only thing I’ve got to look forward to, and lately I can’t even enjoy that. Pure, utter bullshit.
Shitty sleep or no, I can’t lay in bed. Today’s the big day. Ha.
It is a big day… sort of. I guess. It’s stupid really. My family is ridiculously excited about my promotion — the new position I’m starting today — but I’m struggling to share their enthusiasm.
Stretching, I get out of bed, groan, stretch some more, yawn, look longingly at my bed, and finally drag my sorry ass to the bathroom to splash water on my face. If my mom saw me leaving the house for the first day of my new job without shaving, without showering, she’d have a fit.
Luckily, I’m a grown-ass man that lives on my own, and what my mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’ve got a clean uniform on, Mom, what more do you want from me?
It’s a different uniform than your old position, of course it’s clean, a voice in my head says. Mentally, I give it the finger. I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life when I’m looking for a positive. It’s not easy to find one. This promotion of mine is suspicious. I didn’t apply for it, I’m not sure how I qualified for it, and I don’t even know what it is.
I was perfectly happy at my old
position, to be honest. Being a prison guard might not bring the prestige and honor to my House that my family’s hoping for, but there’s not much else for me to do. Hell doesn’t exactly offer a lot of options for upward mobility.
Or… at least I didn’t think it did.
Being told that you got a promotion you didn’t know existed is weird, I don’t care what my parents say.
They claim that my exceptionalism must have shone to my superiors. How I managed to not laugh out loud when Dad said that, I’ll never know. But I managed. I even pulled off a mute nod, coughing to cover up the skepticism.
Unless doing the bare minimum and never attracting attention to yourself — negative or positive — is ‘exceptional’ I don’t think Dad’s got the right idea.
Apparently while I was struggling to keep from getting dragged into petty social bullshit, my coworkers were all fucking everything up. So now I get the joy and honor of being promoted to… whatever it is. I’m still guarding, from what I’ve been told — promised there would be a more thorough briefing on my first day — but at some high security, top secret prison I didn’t even know existed.
That makes it prestigious, which is why my family’s so excited.
It’s been ages since our House was on the Council — millennia — and my family is hoping I’ll be able to earn us some clout with this new spot, that maybe I can drag us up through a couple circles.
Seems like a long shot to me, but they’re happy, and I didn’t want to ruin that. Not before I have to at least. I’ll inevitably disappoint them somehow, but hey, they could pretend I’m not a complete disappointment for a day or two. What would it hurt?
