Hell Raising and Other Pastimes

by Jayce Carter

  “He’s a show,” I agreed.

  “It’s not just him. While folks down here don’t always get a lot of information, Kase and Grant are fairly well known. Your little team there is like straight out of a who’s who in the supernatural world. The only one who isn’t already famous is Troy, but one look at that man without his shirt and trust me, he’s got fans.” She fanned herself, and if it had been anyone else, I’d have probably felt jealous.

  It was hard to feel like that with Gran, especially because she still looked like an old woman.

  Not that I believed that act for a moment.

  Though, the quiet moment gave me a pause. “What do you really look like?”

  “You saw a glimpse.”

  “So why look like this?”

  Gran took a sip of her tea, then rested it on her leg. “I learned a long time ago that a pretty face was a detriment.”

  “I’d think it was helpful. Men get stupid around pretty faces.”

  “Men want to own pretty faces. They get obsessive, determined, and it makes life far more difficult. I prefer to move without that complication.”

  The way Kase had noticed me, how Troy had distracted me even as just my neighbor, how Grant and Hunter had entangled themselves in my life made me unable to argue with her point.

  It wasn’t that I acted as if I were beautiful, and honestly because of the spell my parents had put on me, I was usually ignored.

  Hadn’t the men made my life more difficult in many ways?

  Hadn’t they helped, too?

  I tried to think about what my life would have been like if I hadn’t met them, if I’d had to face this all on my own.

  And all the times I would have probably been dead.

  “Is it worth pretending to be something you’re not?”

  She laughed. “You’re asking me that? You, who has spent your entire life trying to pretend to be normal?”

  The jab landed. It was true…

  Still, it also felt like an odd moment with Gran. She normally felt so…different. She felt wise and unreachable. Sure, she was my friend, but it had always been borne of a different level.

  Sitting across from her made me look at her differently.

  Maybe it was my time in hell, my experiences. I didn’t feel like the girl who didn’t know where she belonged, the one who felt unprepared for life, hiding behind her skirts.

  Instead, I felt like an equal.

  Okay, so I wasn’t quite an equal—no one feared me the way they feared her—but I wasn’t a girl afraid of life, either.

  And I finally saw that she wasn’t quite as together as she pretended to be. She wore a different face just to hide a part of herself she didn’t like.

  “Maybe neither of us needs to hide so much,” I said.

  “Maybe,” she said, and for a moment the real vision of her shimmered, showing me a glimpse of the woman she was beneath that. “Get yourself ready, dear. No doubt that green-haired woman stuffed with far too much cheer will be here to escort you when it is time.”

  With that, she got off the bed, leaving my cup with me. When she got to the door and opened it, a guard stepping in front of her for a moment.

  Then the guard took another look at her and stepped backward faster than I’d seen them do with anyone else.

  She offered one more smile before leaving me be to get ready.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gran was right—the party was much larger than the day before.

  Beyond that, they were more dressed up, too, as if the event had become a big deal all of a sudden.

  There were more groups of people milling around. Elder ones stood in the corner, their pointed ears and green eyes a sure giveaway. There were even men, which I hadn’t seen before. They were lithe, just like the women, and wore suits that were fitted beautifully and embroidered along the lapels of the jacket and down the side of the legs.

  Others, who at first passed as humans stood in groups. With a closer look, I noted the tips of fangs. Across the room, Fredrick, the pack alpha, stood with a few others.

  Persephone left me, again. She’d come to my room to escort me to the party in an even fancier dress that dipped far lower in the front. Somehow it didn’t look slutty on her, though. She looked regal, instead.

  We had made it all of thirty seconds into the party before something else caught her attention and she floated off in distraction.

  I hadn’t run into Lucifer yet, but the bodies were packed in so tightly that didn’t shock me. Besides, the longer I could avoid him, the better.

  “Don’t you look like a treat?” The voice was one I didn’t recognize, and I turned to find a woman with long, straight black hair behind me.

  She was beautiful in a way very different than Persephone. Where the goddess was all cheer and innocence, this woman was darkness, power and lust. She wore a red suit that appeared even brighter against her black hair and matched her lips.

  “Do I know you?”

  “No, but I know of you.” The words felt oddly sinister, especially with her smirk. “Word travels fast, and I’ve heard about the mortal who sits beside my father. It’s something uncommon enough for even me to venture home and see.”

  Father?

  “Lilith.” Hunter walked up from my side, his voice careful. “I didn’t expect you to show.”

  “As I was telling your pet, here, even I couldn’t resist the invitation when I heard Father had made a mortal his guest of honor.”

  “And here I thought it was to watch me.”

  She lifted her nails—black and filed to sharp points—and studied them. “If you believe I haven’t seen better competitors than you, you’re foolish.”

  “Ouch.” Hunter set a hand on my lower back. “I’d love to hear more about how little you care about me, but I think there are others who want to meet the mortal of the hour.” With that, he steered me away from the scary woman.

  “Was that the Lilith? From the stories?”

  “You find that harder to believe than Lucifer?” I gave him a sharp look, and he sighed. “Yes, that’s her.”

  “I thought she was Adam’s first wife? Not Lucifer’s daughter?”

  “Haven’t I told you not to believe stories?”

  “Come on, you can’t just leave it at that.”

  “It’s too long a story for right now, and even I don’t know all of it. I promise, when we have a free moment, you can pick my brain about every last myth you want.”

  I sighed, but he wasn’t wrong. Story time wasn’t a priority.

  “She was right, though. You do look like a treat.” He slid his fingers along my spine, his words low and smooth and tempting. Somehow, after our talk, that word didn’t freak me out like it probably should have.

  I’d gone with a dress that was more flowy than the last. It was still black and red—somehow those felt like they fit—and it dipped low in the chest, then ran down from that point to drift around my ankles. I’d skipped heels—my feet hurt from dealing with them—and had gone with flats.

  “How did last night go?” I asked to distract myself.

  “Fine.”

  “Where is everyone else?”

  “Word spread about our little team, so there are people here. Colter showed up, Fredrick is over there, and someone from the mage’s guild, I think. I’m sure they’d rather be here with you, but business calls.” He peered to the side, then sighed. “And it’s my turn to go on and make nice, as well. I just wanted to save you from Lilith.” He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss before backing away. “Be careful, shadow-girl. People are taking notice of you.”

  With that, he left, and I had to admit…he might have been correct. When I peered around the room, eyes would shift away from me and back to their conversation, as if whoever they were talking to was just there as cover.

  After a lifetime of no one really seeing me, I felt far too on display.

  As I moved through the room, I spotted Kase first. Sure enough, he stood beside
Colter, and again I struggled to believe he was older than the coven leader. Kase was many things, but he wasn’t the monster that Colter was. Why not? What made Kase different?

  It didn’t matter at the moment since there was no way I was going anywhere near Colter. The last time I’d had to see him, he’d threatened me, and sure, I’d been threatened a lot since then, but there was something special about a person’s first one that made me want to stay the hell away from them.

  Troy was beside Fredrick, though Sarah was nowhere around. Then again, who really wanted to bring their mate to hell?

  No one ever takes me anywhere nice.

  I was going to avoid them as well, but Troy turned to lock eyes with me, giving me no real out.

  Instead, I trudged over, not bothering to look excited.

  “Ms. Harlin,” Fredrick said, a smile to his lips that looked honest, but I couldn’t figure out why.

  He’d also threatened me, though in a much nicer way than Colter, into doing a job for him.

  A job I didn’t really do all that well.

  “Fredrick.”

  Troy wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against his side, a clear power play to remind Fredrick that I wasn’t just anyone. Wolves and their games…

  “I have to say, when I heard about this, I hardly believed it. That little human here in hell? That was the sort of thing I couldn’t miss.”

  I tried to stick my hands into my pockets before remembering that dresses didn’t have pockets. “The world is a crazy place.”

  “So it seems. I never attend these things—I find hell a depressing place—but this was worth the travel. Not to forget that Troy in the games is a surprise as well. I would ask how that happened,” Fredrick’s gaze dropped to where Troy’s are was wrapped around me, “But I don’t think I need to.”

  It took me a moment to realize why I disliked him so much.

  Troy.

  It was the tension Troy had, the way he wanted me nowhere near anything pack.

  “Have there been any more cases of werewolves going crazy?” I asked.

  Fredrick’s smile fell. “Yes, a few. I’ve stopped putting them down and converted an old storage area we had into holding cells. Now that I know it isn’t some sort of infection, I am hoping we can fix it.”

  I frowned. “How do you even know what happened? It wasn’t like we had time to leave a note.”

  Fredrick turned his gaze from me Troy, like a question, as if he wasn’t sure Troy wanted him to answer.

  The gesture annoyed me.

  Thankfully, Troy shrugged, a safe response.

  “The mage with you enabled communication between Troy and me. We’ve spoken a few times since you arrived there.”

  “No one ever thinks to tell me about this stuff, do they? Maybe I had people to call.”

  Troy lifted an eyebrow, his polite way of calling me out for the blatant lie.

  Everyone I cared about or spoke to was here, in hell, other than Gran who I was pretty sure could have talked to me whenever she wanted.

  “Shut up,” I muttered before elbowing Troy.

  He pressed a kiss to my head and released me. “Go on. I have a few things to discuss with Fredrick before the second round starts.”

  I pressed my lips into an unhappy line at the reminder of the competition, of the dangers, that we weren’t just at some party.

  Still, I did as he said, spotting Grant. He wasn’t talking with someone I recognized, but given how human they looked, I had to guess mages.

  Grant spotted me before I approached, but he didn’t reach out, not like Hunter and Troy had.

  Because of that, I didn’t reach for him, either, letting him set the tone.

  “Ava,” he said, voice friendly but careful. “This is Jameson Cleric and his apprentice, Victoria Brown.” Grant gestured toward me. “This is Ava Harlin.”

  Jameson, a man who appeared to be in his forties with a pair of round glasses, stared at me with no attempt to hide his displeasure. “I’ve heard your name a lot in recent weeks.”

  “Well, that’s vague and mildly threatening,” I said.

  His eyebrow lifted, as if he hadn’t expected my response. “I am the acting Magistrate and given there was a mage in the competition, it was expected for me to attend once we found out.”

  “But he isn’t in the guild.”

  Jameson’s gaze moved to Grant’s in question.

  “I am so tired of people trying to decide what I should know. Out with it.”

  “Grant’s position in the guild is tenuous.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  Jameson didn’t wilt at all, despite my hard look. “It means if you wish to know more, you should ask him yourself. I am here because it would be improper for someone from the guild not to be present.”

  “And that someone had to be acting Magistrate, who I would imagine is the highest up in the guild?”

  Jameson didn’t answer the question, telling me that all mages were as annoying as Grant when it came to information sharing. “It was nice to meet you, Ms. Harlin, and I suspect I will be hearing more of you in the future. Grant, please think over what I’ve said.”

  “We both know that won’t happen.,” Grant answered.

  Jameson only nodded, as if he’d expected no other answer, before leaving, the woman Victoria on his heels.

  “What was that about?”

  “History, and not the fun kind.” Grant hadn’t removed his gaze from the two, not until they were far enough away, they blended into the party. Only then did he turn back toward me, offering me that charming smile of his I knew so well.

  The one I also knew hid whatever he really thought.

  “What was he talking about?” I asked to derail whatever Grant was going to say, because no doubt it was all about changing the subject.

  “Nothing important.”

  I crossed my arms like a defiant kid.

  He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh as if I tested his patience. “It is an old story that now is not the time to tell.”

  “Let’s go with simple here, since you told me you wouldn’t lie to me anymore. Are you in the guild?”

  “I didn’t lie about that—it simply isn’t an easy answer.”

  “You said you killed people and you left.”

  “Leaving the guild isn’t official. Most mages who leave or are kicked out are fairly unimportant. The guild isn’t worried about them. Let’s say I left the guild but they see it differently.”

  “So you said ‘I’m out’ and they said no?”

  Grant nodded. “That sums it up fairly well. They leave me be for the most part, but apparently this was deemed important enough to send the acting Magistrate himself. That’s almost enough for me to be honored.”

  “But why is he here?”

  Grant shook his head. “I don’t know, but I can assure you it isn’t anything good. Jameson doesn’t show up unless he thinks there’s a big payoff for him. My guess? He’s hoping I get weakened enough in the competition that he has a shot.”

  “A shot at what?”

  Grant’s gaze wasn’t on me, having moved in the direction Jameson had gone, his eyes narrowed for a split second before he turned back toward me, his face wiped clean for the suspicion. “It doesn’t matter. Others have tried before him, others will afterward. Now, have you eaten? Given that this time there are actual beings from the living realm, I believe there is a table of non-disgusting food just that way.”

  I offered Grant the same look he’d given Jameson, one that said I know damn well he was up to something even if I didn’t know exactly what.

  Then my stomach gurgled, and I realized putting nothing but tea into an empty stomach wasn’t a great combination.

  “Fine,” I muttered, giving in.

  Grant gestured toward the side wall, and I followed.

  He was keeping secrets, but what was new? If I waited for Grant to be honest with me, I’d starve to death first.

  Chapt
er Eighteen

  The food was good, but the company left a lot to be desired. Grant remained for a short while, but before long, he left me to fend for myself.

  At first, I couldn’t seem to help but nurse a hurt from the fact that all four men didn’t have time for me.

  They had spent so much time following me—even when I’d told them to get lost—and yet suddenly they were all too busy?

  Then I watched, carefully, and noticed how each spared glances my way. The reality was that they were getting ready for a second round in a game that had killed so many already. Then I noticed how they watched their opponents, how the two teams circled each other, and I realized this was part of their game. They were sizing each other up, getting ready to go into the final battle where only one of them would walk out.

  Feeling abandoned would have been petty.

  Or so I told my hurt feelings.

  “I can’t say I get the appeal.”

  I turned to find someone far too close to me, and the blue jumpsuit he wore let me know who he was.

  One for the team facing off against my team.

  He was tall—at least seven feet—and looked similar to the man who had tried to plant me. Except, where that man had been twisted and burned, this one appeared quite nearly human in form, other than the size and the dagger-like claws that tipped his fingers.

  He turned his head, as if surveying who was around, and it gave me a look at some of his back.

  More ridged claws ran down his spine like some dragon, and they shone as they caught like as if made of silver rather than bone.

  I took a step backward, wanting far more personal space.

  He chuckled as he looked back at me, and when he spoke, I realized his teeth were every bit as sharp as the rest of him, and a long, forked tongue darted inside his mouth.

  It was a miracle he sounded so normal…

  Or maybe that was part of the translation Grant had mentioned.

  “I’m not going to hurt you. Well, not here, at least. Harming Lucifer’s guest of honor would be a foolish mistake, and I’m far from foolish.”

  “So what are you doing here?”

  “Do you know how many of these I’ve been in? More than Hunter, more than any other being.”