by Ivy Asher
“Can’t you just ward me like you ward my house?” I ask.
“Nope,” Crux replies. “Using our abilities on you could fuck with your choices and free will, so we can’t do that. Forbidden is an understatement when it comes to that, and we’re not trying to start a war with the higher ups or have Lucifer on our ass for breaking rules.”
“So we get to do things the old fashioned way,” Echo adds.
I swallow hard, my eyes slipping over to the side to look at Jerif’s face. I can’t chicken out. Not again. I can do this. Worst case scenario, I get scythe happy again. That wasn’t so bad. I’ll just make sure not to keep my mouth open, or lick my lips, or try to make out with anyone right after killing anything.
Thoughts of a nice steamy group shower flash through my mind, and I shake them away. I blame Hell and the impending trip for making my brain go haywire. Yep. That feels like a solid excuse for what’s happening to me.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
Before I can even fill my lungs with non-acidic air, they grab my hands, and that weird vertigo feeling washes over me. One moment, we’re in the Mortal Realm, and the next, we’re suddenly standing in the massive mausoleum that I immediately recognize as Hell’s Embrace.
We’re back.
I don’t stumble or fall this time, and I don’t feel like I need to puke, so I suppose that’s something. I’m still not disintegrating from Hell’s acidic air either—nope, shouldn’t think about that. I’m just breathing normal oxygen. My lungs are happy. And Hell is like my Nana’s house: smells weird, but it’s not so bad once you get used to it. Maybe there’s even cookies down here. I’m sure I’ve heard something about cookies being offered on the dark side.
“You’re still on your feet,” Crux observes, and I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face.
“I’m getting better at that whole realm shifting thing,” I point out.
“Sure are. You’ll be a pro in no time,” he says, squeezing my hand before dropping it.
Jerif grunts irritably and gives both me and Crux a look. “You know as soon as he fucks you, he’ll forget your name and all this kissass bullshit will stop, right?” he tells me coldly.
His words feel like a slap, and I open my mouth to defend Crux, but I stop short. I mean...maybe that’s true. Maybe Crux is only being nice to get in my pants, and once he earns that notch in the ol’ bedpost, he’ll move on. But then again, do I even care? It’s not like I’m trying to wife up.
Trepidation seeps through me like dense fog. I do care about being part of the team though. I don’t want to do anything that could fuck that up.
“You should keep your mouth shut about things you know nothing about,” Crux says coldly as he steps up to Jerif with a furious look on his usually cheerful face.
Iceman steps smoothly between them. “Enough. This is not the time or the place. Everyone needs to focus on getting to the Vestibule and back, and nothing more. Am I understood?” he barks out.
No one says anything, but when Iceman moves toward the arched exit to the left, everyone falls into step behind him. I’m tense as fuck, and I’m not sure if it’s from being in Hell or from what Jerif just said. My emotions immediately jump on the sex would make all of this too complicated bandwagon, and then I promptly shove that all aside and focus on what we’re doing here. Iceman is right, now isn’t the time or the place to worry about it. I have enough to deal with already.
We silently traverse the cavernous room toward the exit, and I can’t help but wonder what I’ll find on the other side of the gargantuan open entryway. I’m both nervous and oddly exhilarated to think about what Hell will be like. Am I going to be traumatized by tortured souls just hanging about everywhere, or is that all done behind closed doors?
I find myself holding my breath as we walk beneath the tall arched stone frame. I’ve no sooner stepped one foot out of Hell’s Embrace and into Hell when a noise that can only be described as a gong rings through the air. I slam my hands over my ears in an effort to keep them from exploding. The noise is so loud and deafening I can feel the vibrations of it in my bones.
I close my eyes and cower away from the painfully overwhelming sound. Arms wrap around me, and they feel both protective and grounding. I snuggle into the chest of whoever is holding me, wishing I could crawl inside of them to escape this fucking racket.
A hand smooths my hair, and I feel another body pressed against my back. I think the gonging noise is getting quieter, but it’s hard to tell because there’s now a steady ringing in my ears that’s competing with the original assaulting sound. I look up to find Iceman staring down at me, his arms vise-like around my shoulders.
“What the fuck was that?” someone whispers, and I turn around and see it’s Jerif who’s pushed up against my back. Echo and Crux are at each of my sides, their backs to me like they’re ready for an attack or anything else that might come our way. All four bodies are tense and strained as if they’re waiting for the Devil himself to jump out.
“I don’t have the foggiest fucking clue,” Iceman whispers back, but he looks like he’s yelling.
I rub at my ears, hoping somehow it will help the ringing stop and restore my hearing. Jerif yells something else, but I don’t catch it, I can only feel his vibrations against my back as he speaks. I look up at him and watch his lips as he taps me on the shoulder and tries again.
“What?” I ask, like some elderly grandma who forgot to turn on her hearing aid. I squint my eyes like somehow it will make me hear better or suddenly read lips better. “Dew dropped or eye? What the fuck does that mean?” I shout. I turn to Crux like somehow his lips will be easier to read. But he just repeats “dew dropped or eye” more slowly and then looks at me with concern.
What in the hell can that possibly mean? I stare at him in confusion, trying to piece it all together when he looks toward the ground. I follow his gaze to find my scythe is lying on the ground. Shit. I dropped it. It’s still in walking stick mode, which I guess is good, but all the guys look like it will be a cold day in Hell before they pick it up, in case blades pop out of it.
I bend over so I can reach down and grab it, completely forgetting that I’m sandwiched in. Nobody moves, which means I accidentally shove my ass against Jerif’s crotch, while simultaneously headbutting Iceman’s dick.
Large hands grab my hips and keep me from toppling forward as Iceman hops back and cups himself. I freeze, my body ass-first against Jerif’s crotch. If you were looking at this situation from the outside, I look like I’m taking it from behind while the others are standing around patiently waiting their turn.
Perfect. Just the impression I was hoping to make on my first trip inside Hell.
I snatch up my scythe and quickly straighten up, giving the guys a sheepish look. “Whoops,” I say, trying to laugh it off.
Jerif stares daggers at me, and I quickly look away, not ready to dissect what we both know—he’s hard as a rock.
I’m not ready to divest or digest that information, so I grip my scythe and look down at it like it betrayed me. This thing was practically glued to my hand when we were fighting the Cousin It demons, but one scary sound in Hell and it makes a run for it. Not cool.
“At least my fucked up leather uniform had a holder for this thing,” I say, and the guys wince as if I’m still talking obnoxiously loud.
Iceman says something, but I shake my head, his lips moving way too fucking fast for me to get what he’s saying. He starts unbuckling his belt, and my mind immediately jumps to all the naughty reasons why he could be doing this. I watch him wrap his belt around the scythe, and then he presses in against me. He slips the leather into the loops on my jeans, and then gently buckles it. I stand frozen, too surprised to move, while my heart pounds in time with my pussy. His knuckles barely brush up against my pelvic bone, the touch completely innocent, but it lights a fuse inside of me. Fucking Hell. I need to get a grip.
“Good idea!” I talk-yell, forgetting again to lower my
voice.
I wiggle my hips like Shakira taught me, and I’m happy to see the scythe stays secure at my side. Well, that should hopefully help to make things easier. I look up to find Iceman and Echo watching me, while Jerif and Crux scan everything around us.
“So what was that sound?” I ask, only for Echo’s hand to come over my mouth.
“You’re still shouting,” he says, and I’m relieved that I can hear him a little bit better.
“Sorry,” I say as soon as he drops his hand off my mouth. I stick my finger in my ear like I can dig out the rest of the sharp shrill that’s still bouncing around inside.
I shake my head a little, like I’ve been swimming and I’m trying to get the water out. Surprisingly, it works. “Whew, that’s better,” I say with relief, though I have remnants of a headache from the jarring noise. “So what did you guys say that was?”
“We don’t know,” Echo tells me.
“But she probably just alerted every Ring in Hell that something serious and worthy of investigating just walked through the front door,” Jerif says, his tone marred with irritation. “We need to keep moving. She can’t ward herself, and we’re like fucking sitting ducks.”
“I didn’t yell on purpose,” I snap. “And it’s not like anyone warned me about a fucking gong going off like I just entered the Triwizard Tournament. That shit wasn’t my fault.”
“No one is blaming you,” Iceman assures me, but he looks at Jerif as he says it.
“Lay off her, will you?” Crux grumbles to the lava demon before reaching down and grabbing my hand. I should probably pull away, but I let him thread his fingers through mine and start tugging me forward.
I look around as we make our way out the extra large version of the mausoleum. I figured Hell would be on the other side of the archway, but instead, there’s a long, wide corridor. At the end, there’s a set of doors that happen to be more imposing than anything I’ve ever seen.
“So...is there a secret knock?” I ask no one in particular. I’m going for a light and teasing tone, but my voice is too shaky to pull it off. “Why is this place so big?” I ask, looking around as my voice melts into the dark shadows that I’m worried are hiding all kinds of scary things off in the distance.
“For fuck’s sake, it’s like having a four-year-old along for the ride,” Jerif grumbles.
“I’ve never been down here before, you ass,” I defend.
“Security is one part of it,” Echo quickly interrupts, answering the question. “And there’s also the issue that if Hell’s army needs to get out in a hurry, you have to have room to do it.”
I swallow down a gulp of oh shit and stare transfixed at the massive doors in front of us. “So is this the actual Hellgate then?” I ask, glaring at Jerif and just daring him to give me shit for asking questions.
He rolls his eyes. I do my best to ignore him and tip my head back as I take in the massive doors. They’re a good fifty feet high, and end in spikes at the top, but the size isn’t what’s so daunting—it’s that it’s made entirely of blood-red flames.
“This looks a lot more Hellgatey and ominous than the Gate in the graveyard, just sayin’,” I observe.
“Technically, this is the official Hellgate, and what we guard are Hell Portals that lead to this Hellgate. But that was a mouthful of a job description, so we shortened it to just Hellgate Guardian,” Crux explains with a cheeky smile on his face.
The corners of my lips tip up involuntarily at the playful twinkle in his green eyes. “So are we actually in Hell now, or do we have to pass through the doors before I can tick Hell off my places I’ve been poster?”
“We stepped foot on Hell soil the minute we left the big mausoleum. But we’re more on Hell’s property and walking up to the front door right now,” Iceman tells me.
“Oh, okay. That makes sense.”
I suddenly find myself wondering if there will be a gift shop anywhere where I can buy some sweats that say Hell’s Property on the ass, because I could get down with that kind of uniform.
“The Vestibule is a small hike just on the other side of the doors. We should hurry though,” Iceman announces, his blue eyes looking around us attentively.
I study the looming Gate as we walk closer to it. The nearer we get, the hotter it becomes, and the more the red hue makes it look like something out of a vampire’s wet dream. I have to swipe at a dribble of sweat that threatens to trickle down my brow as we approach it. The guys don’t slow down, they just continue to head right for the Hellgate, even though it doesn’t appear to be opening.
“Umm...guys?”
None of them say anything, and Crux continues to pull me with him.
“Guys?” I repeat, trying to wrench my hand away, but Crux isn’t having it. He just clamps down harder.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I say, just as Echo comes up on the other side of me and grabs my wrist, helping Crux to tug me forward. “Is the freaky fire Gate gonna open?” I ask.
“Nope,” Jerif says simply.
I dig in my heels until Crux and Echo are just pulling me along, like I’m learning how to ice skate and they’re just gonna drag me along whether I want to do it or not.
“Wait!” I say again, but do these fucking demons wait? Nope. They just walk straight into the bloody hellish fire and pull me right along with them.
With a whoosh of intense heat, I open my mouth to scream, but then I’m pulled another step and I’m instantaneously out of the blistering inferno. I pant as I look over my shoulder to find the crimson flames are now at my back. “Fuck, I thought I was about to burn alive.”
“You would’ve,” Iceman tells me. “That’s why Crux and Echo made sure to hold onto you. Since we’re Gate Guardians, we can pass through.”
A noise gets clogged in my throat. “What if I had gotten out of your grasps?” I demand.
“Give us a little credit, Jeter,” Crux says, rolling his green eyes.
I yank out of his and Echo’s holds, only because they let me this time. “What the fuck? All you had to say was, oh, by the way, Delta, hold our hands while we walk through the Hellgate so you don’t burn alive. See? Simple.”
“Apologies,” Echo says, his mouth turning up into a smirk. “But the fear you were putting off was just too delicious.”
I stare into Echo’s bottomless black eyes, shocked. “That’s...not fucking cool.”
“Come on now, Swamp Thing, embrace your demon. You know you got off on that fear just as much as I just did,” he counters.
I start to object, but the light floaty feeling currently coursing through my veins betrays my outrage. I feel tingly, like I just had an epic orgasm, and it unsettles the fuck out of me.
Embrace my demon?
Fucking Hell. Please don’t tell me I’m going to go full Daenerys Targaryen and laugh while everything around me burns. Or worse, be that bitch at the grocery store who pulls out a fuck ton of coupons when there’s a line of people waiting to check out behind me, then proceed to argue that the manager needs to accept all the expired ones, which just so happens to make up eighty percent of her penny saving pile. I’m not ready for that level of evil.
Echo’s shadows start rubbing against each other like they’re acting out their favorite porn, and it distracts me from my concerns as I get sucked into the naughty shadow puppet show. Maybe that gong that went off when we first stepped into Hell somehow released the kraken of kinky that I now apparently seem to be okay with?
I flick that thought away and turn from Echo and his scandalous shadows. I look around and for the first time, realize that it actually looks like we’re in Hell now.
“Well, shit.”
We’re in some kind of massive underground cave that looks to be several thousand feet deep. We’re standing on cracked, scorched ground, and behind us, the Hellgate burns sanguine, and scary looking as fuck.
“So demons have to break through that?” I ask, shaking my head with a creeped out shiver. I don’t know why anyone would want t
o try.
“Yes,” Iceman replies. “Today is a good day. We’re holding it pretty stable, but if it or us comes under attack, that could quickly change.”
“So where’s the Vestibule?” I ask, looking around Hell.
There must be more fire somewhere, because the cave is lit up with flickering flames that cast a dark, orangish glow along the crevices. There’s a heaviness to this place that I feel but can’t quite explain. It doesn’t feel like brimstone and doom and the promises of pain like I would have expected, but there’s a serious weight that’s laced in the air all around me. It’s like when you walk into a room and someone is waiting for you, and you just know they want to talk about some heavy, life changing shit. That’s what it feels like here.
“Down,” Crux says, answering my question and pointing at our feet.
I grimace when I see a crude stairwell ahead, leading downward further into the cave. Oddly, I sense that there are things just beyond the darkness around us. It’s like waking up from a vivid dream that slowly starts to slip from your mind’s grasp. I know something nightmarish is there, but can’t remember exactly what. Have I been here before? Or is that just what Hell feels like?
Absently, I make the mistake of following the guys as they move to peer over the edge. I instantly wish I hadn’t when I look over and discover the Lord of the Rings looking staircase that leads from Mordor. “Dammit, can’t you guys make a fucking elevator?”
Iceman’s blue eyes glitter with amusement. “It’s not supposed to be easy to reach a Hellgate, Delta. The point is to deter as many as possible on both sides.”
“Right,” I say as I look over again to try and see the bottom of the stairs. I can’t. It’s too deep. “What happens if I go over the edge?”
“Don’t go over the edge,” Crux says quickly.
“Well, I’m not going to on purpose,” I reply with exasperation. “But what if I fall?”
