by Ivy Asher
I look up into Crux’s green eyes. The genuine concern I see staring back at me cools my irrational anger. I shake my head. “No, but thank you. Just...maybe no more surprise HGTV shit, okay?”
Crux lets me pull back, and I try to take in the new kitchen through far more reasonable lenses. He keeps one hand on my back, where he rubs soft, comforting strokes down my spine. I’m all too aware of his proximity, and when Echo comes to stand beside us, his chest touching my arm, all of my sexual frustration comes roaring back, right alongside that delicious dream that left me high and dry.
“What’s wrong with her?” Jerif gruffly asks as he pops into the room out of nowhere. I jump, adrenaline kicking my heart into overdrive at his sudden appearance. Less than a heartbeat later, Iceman is standing next to him too.
“She’s not big on surprises,” Crux replies, and Jerif grunts and runs his fingers through his flame flickering hair.
“Told you she wouldn’t like it,” he grumps, looking around at all the work Crux and Echo did.
My eyebrows lift. I’m surprised by that statement. It makes Jerif seem observant in addition to just being a prick.
He crosses his arms. “She’s been ungrateful about pretty much everything else, so I don’t know why you idiots thought this would be any different.”
Nope, not observant at all. Just a plain prick. My mistake.
Anger heats my face and douses my desire as I turn to him. I can’t believe I let my dreams convince me to fuck this dude. Not in a million years would I put up with that mouth just to get to his dick. My clit will just have to come up with a game plan that doesn’t involve the lava demon and his taciturn bullshit.
“You know what, Jerif? Fuck you.” I turn to Iceman. “Can you ward my house so his rude ass can’t get in?” I ask with complete seriousness.
Iceman shakes his head like he’s too tired to deal with this shit, but he does shoot Jerif a look. Jerif rolls his eyes and moves through the pristine new kitchen, grumbling about how he’s going to make coffee. I peek over Crux’s shoulder. Damn, apparently, I now own a super expensive coffee making thing that looks like it should belong in a Starbucks and not my house.
Well, at least Jerif’s not totally useless. Maybe he can be trained to bring me coffee and dessert anytime he has the urge to be an asshole. Knowing him, I’d be dead from an overdose of caffeine and sugar in less than forty-eight hours though, so maybe that’s not the way to go.
“Aside from surprise renovations, to what do I owe the pleasure of your demonic visit?” I ask, moving away from Echo and Crux’s sandwiching bodies as I walk out of the kitchen and go into the living room to lean against my ratty couch.
Iceman instantly looks nervous as he takes a seat on the worn cushions of my sofa. Worry flutters through me. Did they have problems at the Hellgate last night? He clears his throat and scratches at the base of one of his horns, stalling.
“Did something happen?” I ask uneasily.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, but I was hoping we wouldn’t have to talk about this right now,” he confesses, and a myriad of possible topics sweep through my mind. His blue gaze settles on my lips for a second, and heat crawls up my neck and into my cheeks.
Shit.
Did Echo or Crux tell him about how I was grinding against Echo on my couch and letting his shadows do very naughty things to me? Is he about to lay some we have to keep things professional lecture at my feet? Or worse...do they know about the dream somehow? I don’t fucking know what these demons are capable of, after all. They could be fucking dream readers or some shit. If Jerif knows that I let him dream fuck me up the ass, I will die. There’s no way that fucker will ever let me live it down.
Iceman continues to search for the right words, and I get more and more nervous. I look around at the others, but they’re equally quiet, and my nerves shoot around like jumping beans. I don’t want to get lectured about this, and I sure as hell don’t want to get blamed.
When Iceman finally opens his mouth to say something, I jump up, cutting him off. “Look, you guys are the ones who started the flirting, not me, so if anyone is to blame, it’s them,” I declare pointing at Crux and Echo.
They both voice a defensive, “Hey,” but Iceman’s expression turns confused. “What are you talking about?” he asks, looking from me to the guys.
I blink and drop my arm. Shit, did I read this wrong?
I try to stuff my hand awkwardly in my front pocket just for something to do, but because these are women’s jeans, it’s only about an inch deep, so it looks hella ridiculous as I try to prop it in there all casual-like. I pull it back out and shift on my feet. “Ummm...what are you talking about?” I counter.
Iceman studies me for a moment and then looks over at Crux and Echo. The idiots don’t even try to play it off. Crux grins mischievously, while Echo lets his shadows shift and swirl around his pale skin. My face burns about as hot as Jerif’s skin.
“I specifically said no sleepovers,” Iceman tells them with a sigh.
“We didn’t sleep,” Echo says with a smirk.
“Oh my God, don’t say it like that,” I hiss, moving away from them to go sit on the opposite end of the couch as Iceman. I don’t miss the expression of disappointment that seems to flicker over his features before he shutters it away. I’m not sure exactly what that means. Is he disappointed in us? Or...is he disappointed that he wasn’t here to participate for our naughty straddle on the couch? I shift, pressing my thighs together to stifle my neediness. God, that dream really fucked me up.
“Nothing happened.” Except for letting Echo’s shadows trail over my body while grinding on his dick. Oh and being totally cool with Crux watching the whole thing, which was probably the catalyst to the really filthy dream I just had about all of you… I clear my throat. “They did leave last night, but I’m guessing, when there were no Gate issues, they came back and renovated my kitchen. That’s all.”
Iceman glances back over to the space. “I noticed.”
“Your floor plan is much better,” Jerif pipes in arrogantly, which is basically the equivalent of I told you so.
“Anyway,” I say, bulldozing past the awkward conversation before Crux or Echo can interject anything about our happy hour on the couch, “what did you want to talk about?” Please don’t be some sort of dream reader, I chant silently.
Iceman leans forward on the couch, bracing his forearms on his powerful thighs as he looks at me while the others circle around the back of the couch. “I know you’re not ready, Delta, and all of us were hoping we could postpone this until you were...but we need to go back to Hell.”
I stare at Iceman blankly for a beat as his words dig into me. I’m relieved that this has nothing to do with the dream, but that relief quickly evaporates as what he’s saying takes root. Hell. I have to go back to Hell.
I probably should have been expecting this, especially after what happened at the other Gate, but I haven’t given it a moment’s thought. I’ve been too busy coveting demon orgasms, and I don’t know what that even says about me. Maybe epic levels of avoidance is my demon superpower.
I try to stuff my hand into my damn pocket again, because clearly, I didn’t learn my lesson the first time. It’s even more awkward now since I’m sitting on the couch. “So...Hell.”
Iceman watches me carefully. “Yes.”
I nod slowly as I look down at my lap. Shit. I know I committed to trying to be okay with this whole demon thing, I mean, what other choice do I have? But this is it. I either accept this future for myself or… I pause, suddenly unable to finish that thought. I keep thinking I can walk away, but after seeing what I saw at the other Hellgate, and feeling what it felt like to protect it, to be part of the team...walking away just doesn’t feel like an option. If the group sex fantasy tells me anything—aside from my serious need to get laid—it’s that I want this, to be a part of this group, no matter how much it freaks me out at the same time.
“This is not what I thought I
was signing up for,” I start as I pick at my cuticles just to have something to do. “I mean...me being a demon is one thing, but being a Hellgate Guardian that’s tied to you and a Gate for the rest of the foreseeable future? That’s...a lot to take in,” I admit before looking back up at him. For some reason, Iceman has always seemed like “the boss” to me. Maybe it has to do with the fact that he’s an Ūnus demon from the First Ring of Hell, but it seems like the guys defer to him, and I find myself wanting to earn his respect. “But then you guys took me to the other Gate yesterday.”
My eyes flick over to the scythe propped up by the front door. If I concentrate, I can still taste the ash that was in my mouth and the way my muscles felt when I spun the weapon and took out those Cousin It demons.
“I can’t ignore it now. I can’t just shut my eyes and hope it all goes away. Not when I know what kinds of things are trying to sneak out of Hell. Not when I know what you guys are up against and what’s riding on it.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly as I wrap my mind and future around what I’m about to say. I meet Iceman’s eyes and feel more certain and steadier than I thought I would.
Go figure.
“If I’m honestly your best shot at helping to stabilize the Gate, then I know I need to help. I’m still adjusting to all of this, and I don’t know how long that will take, but I could never forgive myself if something really bad came through all because I was too much of a coward to accept what I am. I don’t want to be a coward.”
“So you’ll come?” he asks, an edge of hope riding his tone.
I’m probably going to regret this, but… “Yeah. I’ll come. I’ll try to be a Hellgate Guardian.”
There seems to be a collective sigh that comes out of the guys, and the mood in the room immediately lifts. “But I have to be honest...I have no fucking clue how to do what you guys do, and I’m a little terrified.”
“We’ll teach you,” Iceman quickly says, as if he wants to reassure me before I change my mind.
“And I really have to go to Hell? I can’t just guard the Gate without going down there?” I ask, pointing past my floor as if Hell is right below us.
“Afraid so,” Iceman says.
“We need to find out what Ring you’re from first,” Echo supplies. “That way we can figure out what we’re dealing with. We’re hoping you’re a Second Ringer—a Duo like Jerif. But even a Trēs like me and Crux would be great. Any Inner Ringer will help us hold the Gate.”
“I still think she might surprise us and be a Nihil,” Crux throws out nonchalantly.
“She’s not a Gatekeeper, Crux. Let it go already,” Jerif growls, and Crux just shrugs like he has no intention of listening to a thing that Jerif has to say.
I don’t blame him. Even though I’m pretty sure Jerif is spot on with that assessment, the arrogant shithead will never know I totally agree.
“I believe part of your block is still in place too,” Iceman adds, pulling my focus back to him.
My eyebrows shoot up. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you haven’t displayed any demonic powers yet, other than the fact that you can wield the scythe and see past wards. The block may fully break once you enter the Ring of Hell you’re from. The Gates to each Ring are very powerful and strip a demon of any outside influences, more or less purifying them when they go home. We’re hoping that if there are any lingering suppressants on your abilities, that your home Ring will clear it up.”
“So I could get awesome demon powers like you guys?” I ask with excitement.
“Yes. We’re hoping that Hell will help unlock everything.”
“But you took me to Hell before,” I point out. “Nothing happened other than me having a panic attack.”
“We weren’t even out of the Gate,” Jerif tells me. “We were just on the other side in Hell’s Embrace. We need you to go fully inside of Hell and through your Ring Gate to test it.”
“Oh,” I say, thoughts churning in my head. What if I pass through my Ring Gate and grow horns or three tails or something? I don’t know if I’m ready for that. Yeah, some cool abilities would be epic, but what if I end up with something lame or gross?
“I hope my power isn’t turning demons inside out,” I say, wrinkling my nose before glancing over at Crux. “No offense.”
“None taken,” he replies smoothly. “It’s fucking messy.”
Jerif rolls his eyes at him.
I shove all thoughts about my parents and their potential demon status in a closet and shut the door. Let’s deal with one thing at a time, Delta. First we’ll figure out where I’m from, then I can figure out whether or not to freak the fuck out about it and how it impacts everything I think I know.
“Okay,” I say, looking around at them. I release a resigned exhale and pep talk myself into just ripping the Band-Aid off. “Just...don’t let me fucking die, okay? I don’t want to get to Hell and burn to death or get chained to some Jabba demon thingy and live out the rest of my life as some gold-bikini-wearing slave.”
“What the hell is a Jabba demon?” Jerif demands as he sips daintily from his mug and gives me judgy eyes.
“Forget about it. My point is, I’m counting on you guys to bring me back here in one piece.” Hopefully without horns or tails or anything that makes me look trollish. I cross my fingers and start a steady chant of please let me be a Trēs demon like Echo.
“We won’t let anything happen to you,” Iceman promises. “And as soon as we know what you are, we can induct you as our fifth, and we can begin to train you properly. By the time we’re done, you’ll be able to hold your own, and if what you did yesterday is any indication, I have full faith that you can rise to the challenge.”
I give him a soft smile, grateful for his belief in me. It means a lot, even if I am still freaked out.
“Are you ready?”
“Shit. Now?” I ask, a tinge of whiny-voice threatening to leak out. I really don’t want to go to Hell. I mean, people talk about Hell as a curse word, as a worst-case scenario. It’s a little daunting, and that’s minus all of the this will change your entire world shit that’s now breathing down the back of my neck.
Iceman’s mouth twitches with amusement. “Yes, now. We’ve already left the Gate for too long, and if you’re ready to start, then I see no point in waiting.”
“Fine,” I groan. “Just let me grab some coffee first,” I say as I get up and head for the kitchen and grab a cup of whatever Jerif brewed in the industrial espresso machine.
I have a feeling I’m going to need a lot of caffeine for this, so I down two full cups before shoving a package of mini muffins into my mouth, and then I look around at my beautiful kitchen and promise to come back soon so I can fully appreciate it. I give Fern some water on my way out before patting her leaf and grabbing my scythe.
“Ready?” Echo asks, holding the door open.
Nope, but I can’t ignore what I am, and my life has to be on this course for a reason, so I might as well see it through. “Hell, here I come,” I announce as I close the distance between me and Echo. I give him a teasing smile. “Wait. Shouldn’t I get a handbasket for this trip or something?”
20
I stand inside the mausoleum, and I have to swipe my sweaty palms on my jeans so that I don’t lock my grip on my walking stick-scythe. It’s bladeless right now, and I still haven’t figured out exactly how to activate the blades, but it makes me feel better just to hold it.
“Remind me again exactly what we’re going to do.”
They’ve already told me three times on the way over here, but hearing the plan makes it feel safer and saner. Like if I hear it enough, it won’t be so scary. Just another afternoon where I’m visiting Hell and figuring out what kind of demon I am. No biggie.
Iceman looks at me patiently. “We’ll go through the Gate. This time, we’ll go further than last time. We’ll take you all the way to the Vestibule.”
“And the Vestibule is the place where there’s a
portal for every Ring of Hell,” I say, regurgitating his previous explanation.
“That’s right,” he replies, ever the supportive demon. “Demons can only enter the portals where they’re from and lower. I’m from Ūnus, or First Ring, so I can enter one, two, three, four, and five. But Crux, since he’s a Trēs—a Third Ring demon—he can only go through the three, four, and five portals. Make sense?”
“Yeah, okay,” I say, wiping my hands yet again. If my palms sweat any more, I’m going to have to put deodorant on them. “And how are we going to find out what Ring I’m from?”
“You’ll attempt to pass through the portals,” Crux answers, bumping my shoulder with his. “You can start with my portal. I’ll go with you. If you can pass through that one, we know you’re at least a Trēs.”
“Then Jerif will take you through Duo,” Echo adds. I notice that Jerif isn’t the one to offer. I don’t want to go through the portal with his grumpy ass either. He probably would sell me off to a Jabba demon if I weren’t their only hope right now.
“And if you can go through that, I’ll test you with Ūnus,” Iceman replies.
“So all I have to do is...walk through?”
“Yes,” Iceman tells me. “If you’re a lower ranking demon, the portal won’t allow you to pass. It will be simple and should be fairly quick, so long as we don’t run into any complications.”
My ears buzz. “Complications? What kind of complications?”
Crux groans. “Don’t freak her out.”
Iceman looks contrite. “I’m not trying to freak her out. I’m trying to prepare her.”
“You said I would be fine,” I say, doing my best to not let panic bubble up inside of me.
“And you will,” he promises, reaching forward to grip me by the shoulders. “We won’t let anything happen to you. But this is Hell we’re going through, and Outer Ring demons are causing more and more havoc every day. Not just by trying to break out of the Gates, but by attacking Inner Ringers. They’re vying for control and power, and you don’t know how to ward yourself yet, so you’ll be visible to them, which means we’re going to stay visible as well. So you need to stay alert.”
