Devil’s Kingdom

by King, Bella

  I press my eye into the hole that I carved in the metal door of the shipping container when I first slipped inside. It’s served its purpose well by providing enough air for me to breathe, but now it’s giving me the intel that I need to make sure the coast is clear before I step out into the open.

  The night is already dark, and I don’t see a single person pacing around outside the cargo area. Everyone is probably huddled around inside of the boat, confident that they’re transporting nothing but my raw materials.

  They’re in for a surprise.

  The door groans as I open my temporary bedroom, but it’s masked by the sound of the ocean and the creaking of the ship as it rocks in the water. We’re moving faster than we should be, judging by the frigid wind as it blows through my damp clothes, but that’s to be expected for someone on the run.

  I pull my jacket tight around my body, breathing sharply to counter the cold. The handle of my knife feels like dry ice in my palm, but I grip it with the determination of a killer as I begin walking down the line of red and blue containers toward the center of the ship.

  I encounter no one as I go, and I’m starting to think that there aren’t as many people on this ship as I thought. It can’t be operated by a single person, but a skeleton crew of five or six people would be able to handle it if they only rotated shifts every twelve hours. Most of them would be on the bridge where the controls are.

  So, that’s where I head, eager to get out of the biting wind. I’m already shivering as I break free from the stacks of containers, but once I get inside, it won’t be so terrible. I’ll be able to stop and warm up before carrying through the rest of my plan.

  As the wind howls through the night, I slink closer to the bridge. I won’t be able to get in through the main entrance without alerting the crew, but if I head through the cabin area, I should be able to locate an alternate way in.

  I can’t feel my hands anymore, but I’ve reached my first destination. I plaster my back against the wall beside the door, catching my breath before attempting to open it. Once the hinge swings loose, there’s no telling how many people I’ll have to kill on the way to the bridge.

  I say a prayer to whoever might be listening, and I turn toward the door. I tuck my knife between my teeth and reach out to the large metal circle, turning it to unlatch the door. It shudders and groans louder than the shipping container, but I’m able to open it with the energy I have left in my body.

  I haven’t eaten all day, but the adrenaline is coming on strong, and I feel like I can take on anything. I just hope it’s still there when I reach my destination.

  “Identify yourself,” a gruff voice barks from down the hallway.

  Shit, it looks like I’m already in trouble.

  “I’m your death sentence,” I grumble before flying down the hallway at the crew member, catching him off-guard.

  He stumbles back before I even reach him, going for his gun, but I’m not having it. I’m full of energy and rage at what has happened to my organization, and I intend to take it out on this motherfucker with the blade clutched tight in my fist.

  The first stab is satisfying, sinking deep into his upper stomach and popping through layers of fat and internal organs. Another one follows a moment later, and within just a few seconds, I’ve punctured the man with more holes than a cheese grater.

  His lungs fill with blood, bubbling up into his throat as he tries to call for help. It’s too late, though, and his body slumps forward as the light drains from his eyes. I catch him before he hits the ground, letting him down slowly so that his body doesn’t make any noise.

  I could try to drag him into one of the rooms, but it would be quicker for me to make a break for the bridge.

  I step over his body, preparing to run, but I freeze as I hear the sound of footsteps behind me.

  Shit. I’m not prepared to take on more people.

  I grab the body, praying that his blood hasn’t soaked into the carpet yet, and I elbow my way into the room beside me. I drag him in, quickly closing the door and pressing my eye against the peephole.

  Outside, a person walks by, carrying a rifle loosely in his hands. He steps past the spot of blood on the carpet, failing to notice it because, thankfully, the carpet is also red. It’s only just a little darker.

  I don’t move an inch as the man I stabbed bleeds out behind me on the floor. I wait until the other crew member is completely out of view before I turn the light on and spin around to inspect the room I’ve entered.

  “Diavolo?” a weak voice croaks.

  I look down, and I’m shocked to see Zella, chained to the floor inside of a cage.

  “Zella?” I ask, walking toward her with a quickening pace.

  “Please, get me out of here,” she moans, her eyes filled to the brim with tears.

  “What the fuck is going on?” I ask, kneeling down in front of the cage and looking for the latch to open it.

  “It’s Javelin. He’s fucking crazy. He wants to take me to this island and –”

  “Javelin?” I ask, taken aback.

  “Yes, Javelin. He lured me out to the shipyard, but… god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just wanted to find my sister.” She starts to cry, tears dripping from her bloodshot eyes.

  A surge of anger sweeps through me at the sight of her suffering. I’ll kill the man who did this to her, and even if it’s Javelin, I’ll put a knife through his heart so that he can experience the pain of heartbreak.

  “I’ll get you out of here, and then were turning this ship around,” I growl, slamming the back of my knife into the lock to break it.

  “We can’t go back yet,” Zella says. “He has Olesya.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Zella

  I never thought I’d be happy to see the man who twisted my life into so much agony, but here I am, looking up at Diavolo as though he were some kind of hero instead of a villain. To me, he’s a bit of both, but I’ve taken the same path as him, and that puts me in a position where it’s impossible for me to judge his lifestyle without being hypocritical.

  I accept what he is. At the very least, he’s saved me from Javelin.

  “Do you know where Olesya is?” Diavolo asks as I crawl out of the cage, broken shackles dangling from my wrists and ankles.

  “Pleasure Island,” I reply, standing up and popping something in my lower back.

  Diavolo raises an eyebrow.

  “Javelin said they were trying to make Black Sugar there.”

  Realization floods into Diavolo’s face, and he turns around, biting his thumb. “I should’ve known that bastard was taking my supplies. He’s the only one capable of doing it.”

  “He’s gone crazy,” I say, shaking my head. “He thinks he can force me to tell him the recipe for Black Sugar, and he said he was doing experiments on Olesya.

  “Jesus Christ,” Diavolo mutters. “The man really is off the rails.”

  “We have to stop him,” I say, grabbing Diavolo by the soggy ends of his shirt and pulling at it.

  He looks down at me, his face grave and concerned. “We will stop him, but I need you to listen to me this time around. I can’t have you running off and causing trouble like before.”

  I shake my head vigorously. “I won’t. I swear to you that I won’t.”

  He leans back, eying me suspiciously. “Then why did you run off the first time?”

  “Javelin tricked me,” I blurt, eager to shift the blame. I know that I fucked up, but this whole situation is so twisted and confusing that I’m certain Diavolo can’t blame me entirely.

  “How?” Diavolo asks, not accepting such a short answer.

  I glance down at the body that’s bleeding out on the floor rather than meet Diavolo in his piercing grey eyes. “He was pretending to be my sister, and he convinced me that I should meet him by the ship with the key,” I say.

  “You gave him the key?” Diavolo growls.

  “I thought he was Olesya,” I counter, rai
sing my voice and meeting his eyes. “She needs my help, and nobody is going to stop me from giving it to her.”

  He nods slowly with his lips pressed together, empathy melting over his face. “You did this for her.”

  “I did all of it for her,” I say, pulling back my shoulders.

  He smiles, but his eyes are sad. “Even last night?”

  I pause, thinking back to the magic that happened in the bedroom between us. I was betraying my goals at that point, and even though I wanted to convince myself otherwise, it had nothing to do with saving Olesya. It was completely and utterly self-centered.

  I take a deep breath in, letting the air out through my nose before speaking. “Last night…” I turn my head, looking back at the cage that Diavolo saved me from. I look at him again, a surge of confidence coming through me. “Last night should be our little secret.”

  Diavolo smirks. “We should make more of those secrets.”

  I laugh, tilting my head to the side. “Let’s get the hell out of here first, and then we’ll talk, alright?”

  “No,” he replies, stepping so close to me that I can feel the energy jumping off his body onto mine like electricity. “I want to know how you really feel.”

  I hadn’t given it enough thought, but as Diavolo stands before me, demanding a truth tucked too deep into my soul for me to retrieve without excruciating effort, the only thing I can say to him is, “I want you.”

  “You want me,” he repeats back.

  I nod. “That’s all I know, but I’m scared that it won’t happen.”

  “Well,” he says, stepping back. “I’m not going to make any promises, but once we get Olesya and blow Javelin’s ass to hell, we’ll have the opportunity to have a whole fucking lot of each other, if that’s what you want.”

  A smile twitches on my lips. “I think I’d like that.”

  “Then let’s do it,” he says with the conviction of a man who doesn’t know how to lose. “But first, we have to stab a few bastards.”

  I laugh. “Give me a knife, and I’ll show you what I can do.”

  “You’d better leave the stabbing to me,” he says, displaying his cockiness once again.

  “You have no idea what I’m capable of, Diavolo, but I can’t say I blame you. I haven’t shown you yet,” I reply.

  He looks toward me expectantly.

  “One of your dealers could testify about it, if I hadn’t gutted him,” I say coolly.

  He frowns. “How many of my people have you killed?”

  “Just him,” I reply.

  He lets out a sigh of relief. “I was about to be pissed that you killed Jenny.”

  I grimace. “I mean, I didn’t kill her, but I’m pretty sure I’m the one who ended up with that square of skin cut from her hand.” I hold up the scarification based on her design. “I copied it.”

  “Who did it, then?” he asks.

  “I’d assume it was Javelin since he’s been pretending to be Olesya.”

  Diavolo’s face turns red. “That asshole thinks he can play games with the Devil’s Kingdom, but he hasn’t felt the fires of hell, nor the wrath of the devil. He will regret it.”

  I’m moved by Diavolo’s determination. For the first time, I can see how much this organization means to him and how pissed he is that some is trying to mess it up. I narrowly avoided being on the wrong end of his anger, but I don’t mind Javelin getting it at full blast. He deserves it.

  Diavolo pulls a knife from his pocket and hands it to me. “Take this and cut up any motherfucker who comes into view. I don’t care who they are. We’re outnumbered, and I don’t want them squealing and alerting everyone on board to what’s going on.”

  I nod, gripping the warm blade in my hand. It feels like home, even though I always thought home would feel like going back to normal. I guess there is no normal now, only a past that’s too far behind me to return to.

  Diavolo’s eyes meet mine, and he pulls out his gun. “You’re taking the lead, and I’ll cover your rear.”

  “With what?” I ask, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

  He frowns, looking at his gun. “With this.”

  “I was making a joke,” I reply with a laugh.

  His face softens, and a smile spreads on his lips. “Oh, they’ll be plenty of time for that when we’re done with this.”

  Footsteps coming down the hall break the moment, and both Diavolo and I stiffen up. I grip the knife tighter while Diavolo leans toward the door, his eye on the peephole.

  After a moment, he looks back at me. “It’s Clay.”

  “I don’t know who that is,” I reply.

  “Clay is Javelin’s trainee. He must be in on this too,” he explains. He turns back around and looks out the peephole again. “He’s coming right toward us.”

  I step up beside Diavolo, holding the knife against the door. “He’s probably coming to check on me. Javelin was in here earlier.”

  “So, stab him,” Diavolo whispers, stepping away. “But make it quick.”

  “Turn the light off,” I say, moving back to give the door enough room to swing open.

  “Right.”

  Diavolo flicks the light off as the footsteps grow louder. They stop just outside the room, similar to the ones that dropped off the note in Diavolo’s bedroom early this morning.

  I wait with my breath held, ready to lunge out and let the beast in me out. I can hear every thud of my heart, and it feels like time is racing forward while standing still in the same instance. How long can someone stand in front of the fucking door?

  Just as I’m about to pull open the door myself and jump out to surprise Clay, the handle finally clicks open, and light floods the room. I don’t wait to start slashing, taking out the rage that’s been building inside of me for five long years.

  Blood sprays across the floor, walls, and ceiling as I attack Clay, making him look more like a tuna salad than a human being. I don’t stop as he falls back into the wall in the hallway. I grit my teeth and continue stabbing until Diavolo catches my hand and pulls me back.

  “Jesus, Zella,” he says.

  I glare at Clay’s ruined body. “I’ll do worse to Javelin,” I growl.

  “Well, if you spend too much time hacking people up, the crew is going to be alerted before we have time to get to him.”

  I turn away from Clay. “Let’s go then.”

  Diavolo catches my arm again, motioning the other way with his head. “I was going to try to find another way onto the bridge.”

  “I know one,” I reply. “I found it when I was… never mind. Anyway, there’s another way in.”

  Diavolo squints at me. “Alright, but don’t get us killed. I’m trusting you this time.”

  I flash him my most convincing smile. “Don’t worry. I got this.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Diavolo

  I let Zella lead the way. I guess that I trust her, even after the shit she pulled earlier. Besides, it’s better to have a teammate than attempting to take on the world alone, especially when that teammate won’t hesitate to kill.

  It’s a shame that Zella didn’t join the Devil’s Kingdom for the same reason her sister did. She would’ve been a fantastic addition with how strong and ruthless of a person she is. I’d like to have her, but I’m sure once this is over, she’ll have no interest in joining me again.

  It really is a shame.

  But I can’t dwell on that when Zella is flying down the hallway with her knife extended so far in front of her that she’d stab someone before she even saw them if they came out of one of the rooms. She means business, and I wouldn’t want to be in her way.

  That’s why I’m behind her, covering her rear with my gun drawn. I don’t want to shoot anyone because of the noise it would make, but I want to ensure that neither of us gets hurt. It’s kill or be killed on this godforsaken ship.

  My head swivels back around to Zella as I hear the sound of a door opening. It’s the door leading back out to the cargo area ahea
d of us.

  Zella is already on it, leaping forward and bringing her blade up through the man’s jaw in an impressive uppercut. She lifts him off his feet for a moment from the momentum, and he falls back in a crumbled heap just outside of the door.

  She must’ve brought that blade straight through the roof of his mouth and into his brain because he shows no sign of life as she steps over him. I’d be shocked if I hadn’t seen the same thing a hundred times before, but I am impressed instead.

  I step over the body after Zella, rushing back out into the cold. This time, I don’t feel the wind in my bones nor the salt in my lungs as I rush toward the bridge with Zella. I’m hot from the moment and solely focused on keeping us safe as we rush to the bridge. Even as the night claims the last ounce of warmth from the ship, I can feel the energy that Zella and I share.

  Nothing else matters.

  Zella jumps onto the ladder that leads to the bridge, climbing like a monkey to the top. I can barely keep up with her, and by the time I reach the top, she’s already rounding the corner at the back of the bridge.

  “Slow down,” I mutter, staying low as I dash down the slick metal floor to join her.

  I slip as I’m running around the corner, sliding into the metal rail that is supposed to protect people from falling off, but it’s too short. My torso bends over it, but a hand shoots out and pulls me back.

  I’m met with darkness as I’m pulled through a doorway.

  “Don’t fuck this up,” Zella hisses into my ear, letting go of my jacket and allowing me to stand on my own.

  I brush the flakes of paint from the front of my jacket, turning to face her. “Where are we?”

  “In a storage area behind the control room,” she replies in a whisper. “I was here before.”

  I squint my eyes, only barely able to make out the shape of her in the darkness. “You were here?”

  She breathes out through her nose in amusement. “Do you really think that I was clumsy enough to spill my coffee the other day?”