by Eve Newton
It feels very weird to have someone care about me. But I know that he does. His feelings are genuine and it’s surprising and exciting. It has also made me care about him. I don’t just want to see him to have another tongue fucking from him, although I wouldn’t say no. I actually want to talk to him, get to know him. So, yes, it’s weird that he cares about me, but it’s even weirder that I care about him.
With a big sigh, I go back to my room, but then I shudder as the vivid memory of my burning flesh comes back to me. I quickly turn on my heel and head out towards the stairs.
I’ve managed to pass into the next phase, so I’m going to be shacked up here for a few more days yet until the next one.
Boredom is my worst enemy, so I decide to do a bit of exploring. Maybe I will learn a thing or two, while I’m here, about Luc. No one really knows much about him. In fact, I only found out his name when he told me to call him “Luc”. He is just ‘the Devil’ to common Demons. Creator of their kind and their leader. Plain and simple. With one exception. I frown as I remember that Evan called him Luc and seemed to know a bit about him. Curious. I’ll have to remember to ask the next time I see him.
As I wander down the sweeping staircase, I find myself in the main hallway that I first appeared in the other week. Now that I have some time, I’m eager to have a better look at the statues and other works of art that adorn these walls.
I meander over to a portrait of a strikingly beautiful woman, dressed in late 16th century garb, her chestnut, curly hair falling to her waist. She looks very familiar, but I can’t place where I know her from.
I peer up at the painting, finding it odd that it should be hung up here with all the other more pornographic pieces. I shift my gaze to the very shocking painting, placed next to the woman, with an arched eyebrow. Something catches my eye, and on closer inspection I discover that the woman being impaled in both her front and back passages by the same horned and fanged creature that is tearing her breasts off, is in fact the demure looking lady hanging to the left.
Interesting. Did her breasts grow back or was that her death scene?
I scoff to myself because, of course, Luc would have just given her a new pair of tits. I assume the creature is Luc, there is nothing to go on to say otherwise.
I rather hope that I get the same treatment as this lucky lady. Having a DP with the same creature is something that I haven’t yet experienced and it looks fucking hot. I can deal with the tit thing, as long as he gives them back to me. I look down at my perky tits that don’t even need a bra to remain in place. The Devil does fine work, I’ll give him that.
I fix my gaze back on the woman and wonder who she is. Someone obviously important enough to Luc that her portrait is hanging in his foyer. I feel a flash of jealousy and wonder if this is the little bitch to which he showed his true self.
I reach out and brush my fingertips lightly over the full lips of the woman. I pull back quickly as it suddenly goes icy cold and I can hear whispering coming from all around me, but I can’t make out the words.
Freaky. This is just a freaky, fucking house.
I back away. The keening stops and the temperature returns back to normal.
With a shake of my head, I move on, taking in all the gloriously depraved works wishing that I was immortalized on canvass and hung up in Luc’s foyer. Maybe if I complete this trial, he will do me the honor.
I stop dead as I spot the painting hanging up in the corner. It is of the creature that I saw during the binding ritual. I move closer to it so I can have a good look at him. Very definitely a male, and very definitely well endowed.
I lick my lips and tilt my head. I reach out to touch this painting, wondering if this one will give me a reaction like the one of the woman, when a deep, gravelly voice, about two feet over my head, says to me, “Don’t touch.”
I spin around and come face-to-face with Darius’s armored chest.
~ CHAPTER SIXTEEN ~
Axelle
I let out a small squeak and duck around Darius’s huge frame. He turns to me and advances. I feel the instinctive need to run, but I know that will only encourage him, so I stand my ground.
“Darius,” I say politely.
“Bitch,” he replies through his twisted mouth. “You shouldn’t be wandering the halls without permission.”
“I wasn’t aware that I was imprisoned here,” I say haughtily.
“You aren’t,” Luc says from behind me, making me jump.
Dammit! Why do they insist on sneaking up on me all the damn time?
“Luc,” I breathe out in relief.
I wasn’t looking forward to spending another second alone with Darius. I know what he can do, but I don’t know if he knows he isn’t supposed to hurt me. I don’t like my chances if he decides that I’m a tasty morsel.
“You should be resting,” Luc continues. “Let me escort you back to your room.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t want to rest.”
“After this morning…” Luc clamps his lips shut and glares at Darius, who is happy to stand there and eavesdrop, it seems. “You need your rest,” he finishes lamely.
Okay, so clearly Darius isn’t in the know about my role here. I don’t know if that is good or bad.
“Honestly, Luc, I feel fine. Better than fine. Great even. Strong,” I reassure him with a smile.
He returns it briefly.
“I don’t want to be cooped up in my room,” I add more firmly. I’d assumed—rightly or wrongly, I don’t much care—that I’m no longer required to clock into my Admin job but lying around here waiting for the bomb to go off is not exactly an appealing thought either.
“Axelle,” Luc says. “Please, I need you to rest.”
“No,” I say rebelliously, crossing my arms. “I want to do something.”
“Something?” he asks, clearly not understanding me.
“Yeah, Luc, something. I’m not made to sit around like some kind of queen or shit,” I say, getting annoyed. I feel a puff of air on the back of my head, which I realize is Darius’s version of a laugh when I turn my head slightly to see his face.
“I want some more entertainment, like last night,” I continue, while Luc looks like he is about to splutter acid all over me.
I feel a stronger puff of air on the back of my head, which wafts my hair into my face. I push it back in irritation, wondering what is so damn funny to the ugly Demon behind me.
Luc glares at his minion over the top of my head, as Darius says, “No, it’s not like that at all.”
I squeal with surprise when Luc takes me roughly under my elbow and steers me quickly towards the stairs.
“Watch what you say out loud,” he growls in my ear.
“Why? What did I say?” I inquire, looking back at Darius, who is plodding away in the opposite direction, his shoulders shaking as he silently yuks it up at me.
Asshole.
“What did I say?” I ask Luc again, who had ignored me the first time.
“Your presence here is subject to rumor, Axelle. As I’m sure you can imagine this ritual between us is highly sensitive,” Luc tries to explain.
“What do you mean rumor?” I ask curiously.
“Well, you are residing here until such a time as you are prepared… it is causing all sorts of gossip,” Luc finishes with a frown and ushers me into my bedroom, which now has a brand-new door attached to it.
“Hmm,” I say, tapping my chin. “I wondered why that imp called me ‘lady’,” I add with a guffaw. “They think we are together.”
“Yes, well, like I said: gossip,” Luc snaps at me as I laugh loudly. “Just be careful what you say in front of the staff.”
“All I said was I’m bored,” I say with a sexy pout.
“And I said you need rest. We don’t know if there will be any after-effects, Axelle. Please just do as I say,” Luc responds, ignoring my attempt at seduction. Man, he has the will power of a saint. I see the irony and it makes me smile to m
yself and remember my guardian Angel. What I wouldn’t give to climb that mountain of a male and corrupt him until he falls from grace.
“Fine,” I relent. “But I don’t really want to be alone.” I shudder as I remember what just happened to me. I suppose I do need some time to process this.
“I will get Yasmine to attend to you,” Luc says.
I sigh and give up on him.
I turn my back and walk slowly into the bathroom, suddenly feeling very weary and in need of the huge Jacuzzi tub that I spotted earlier.
Luc
I watch her trudge off despondently.
I want to follow her, hold her and tell her what an amazing female she is to have gotten this far. I’m desperate to tell her why I’m putting her through this; I want to see her reaction to my news. I’ve never, ever thought about what would happen to the bitch that delivered me my child. As far as I was concerned job done, go back to your miserable life. Even with Jezebelle, I’d struggled to see a future for us, and she was perhaps the only female to have affected me.
But now, with Axelle, it is all I can see, and it makes me very uncomfortable.
I’m in need of some reassurance that all of this is going to go according to plan. I loathe going to the old bat, but the Dark Oracle is the only one with the power to tell me what I want to know.
I change my suit for some ceremonial robes. A long, red, flowing cloak with a deep hood, which I pull right up to cover my face.
I transport myself to her cave, deep in the center of Hell and await her words.
“You know that I can’t help you with this,” she says to me a moment later.
“You must,” I order her, turning to face her.
She is older even than me, and it shows on her ragged face. I give her my hand and she slices it open, letting the blood drop to the floor where a small fire suddenly appears that she stares into.
“There is nothing I can tell you,” she says eventually.
“Will she live to see this through?” I ask.
“Who can say?” the Dark Oracle says with a shrug.
“You can, you infuriating witch!” I snap at her, clenching my fist so that I don’t strike her.
“I am a Seer, but not when it comes to this. The ritual clouds everything. I have told you this before,” she says in the same bland croak as before.
“Then look past the ritual to the female. What do you see for her?” I ask hesitantly.
“Another’s future?” the Oracle asks in a high-pitched voice, followed by a shriek of laughter. “Now, I must see what is in store for this bitch!” Her delight at scouring through Axelle’s fate makes me grimace. I’ve inadvertently put her on the witch’s radar and that will not bode well for her should she survive.
“Oh, she is special,” the Oracle says, after a time of staring blankly into the fire. “I see why she was chosen.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Her fortitude and her loyalty to you knows no bounds. She is in love with you,” the Oracle smirks at me and then continues to gaze into the flames.
My heart thumps as I wait for her to continue. I’ll ignore what she just said because it makes no sense. Axelle was picked because of her lack of positive emotions. She likes to hurt and cause chaos. She is a highly sexed Seductress, which is why she keeps trying to screw me, it is torture for her not to be fucked when she wants it. It’s why she went to Evan and why I let her. She is a sadist, just like me, and that is why we will make a perfect match should she survive the rest of this trial. Ah, fuck…
I’m lost to her and I know it.
“She will walk through the flames of Hell for you,” the Oracle says, breaking into my revelation.
“I know all of this,” I growl, remembering the fires that had engulfed her earlier and that she’d pushed back for me. “Tell me something that I don’t know.” I’m growing impatient.
“What is it that you want to know?” she asks.
“Is she the one?” I reply immediately.
“The fates cannot tell you that,” she says.
“She has come this far,” I shout at her. “Will she be the one?”
“Temper,” the Oracle says with a wag of her finger, “won’t change the fact that the fates cannot see.”
“Damn you!” I roar at her. “What use are you to me?” I advance on her, ready to tear her throat out with my teeth, but she holds her hands up in fear.
“Let me try again,” she says hastily, and crouches by the fire.
Time ticks away and then she says, “Bring me her blood.”
“Very well,” I say shortly and with a majestic sweep of my cloak, I disappear from the cave and back into my dark bedroom, where a surprise is waiting for me.
Axelle
I’m luxuriating in the huge Jacuzzi tub, when I hear my bedroom door open and close. With a frown, I leap out of the tub and quickly wrap myself up in the big, soft robe that I find on the back of the door.
If that blasted imp is lurking again, I’ll have Luc kill him.
It’s not, however, Stanford, but Yasmine.
“At your service,” she says formally.
I search her eyes for any sign of the jealousy and hatred that I’d witnessed a few days ago. There is nothing there, but a blank stare back. She has clearly been given her orders. I decide to have a bit of fun with her, after all I’m bored, and Luc wants me to rest, so rest I shall.
“Rub my feet,” I order the twin imperiously as I lower myself to the cloud-like mattress.
“Very well,” Yasmine murmurs with her eyes lowered, probably so that I won’t see the flash of anger.
I lean back into the mountains of pillows with a sigh. Now that I’m being pampered, I am feeling a bit weary. I must’ve been running on the high of defeating the fire circle and making it into the next phase. I take delight as Yasmine massages my feet with expert hands.
“Champagne,” I drawl with my eyes closed.
“As you wish,” Yasmine mutters, gently placing my feet on the bed and gets up to push the button for the bell to alert the servants. One appears moments later, dressed in the seemingly traditional, brown cloak with the hood pulled down low, head bowed, and eyes averted.
Yasmine barks instructions at the servant and off he (or she) goes to execute the order.
She picks up my feet again and starts to rub them.
“How long have you worked for Luc?” I ask, already growing bored of the silence.
“Longer than you have been in existence,” Yasmine replies with a quick smirk.
“Have you had sex with him?” I ask, needing to hear tales of his prowess and depravities.
Yasmine hesitates just a bit too long.
“You haven’t, have you?” I smirk, suddenly glad that she hasn’t. “Has your sister?” I add eagerly.
“What Jasmine does is not my concern,” Yasmine answers.
Jasmine? And Yasmine? How original.
“You must know,” I press.
“She has performed acts with the master,” Yasmine reluctantly spills.
“Well, duh,” I sneer. I remember the blowjobs from the ritual sex.
Yasmine squeezes my foot tightly in protest. I grunt at her and wiggle my toes.
“Do not think you are special because he has joined bodies with you,” Yasmine says. “He has a new bitch in his bed every night.”
I grit my teeth. That is not something that I wanted to hear, although it does sound about right.
“No, I’m special because I have been chosen,” I say, flashing my bangle at her and revel in the look of envy on Yasmine’s face.
“You are not the first, and you won’t be the last,” Yasmine says, dousing my high.
“Oh, I intend to be the last, bitch,” I retort, pissed off. “Now go and get me something to do. I’m growing tired of your presence.” I’m thoroughly enjoying bossing this wench about. I could get used to living like this.
“Of course,” Yasmine says with gritted teeth. “What is it you wish to
do?”
“I want a male,” I say wickedly. “Go and bring me one.”
“No males,” Yasmine replies with a shake of her head. “My liege has instructed me to please you if that is what you require.”
“No, I require a cock,” I say. “Go and bring me one, now.”
“The master has an assortment of instruments that you are welcome to,” Yasmine says. “I will bring a few to you, but no males.”
I sigh again. A girl with my sex-drive had to try. I’m really so horny it is starting to cloud my thoughts. Where’s Evan when you need him? “Fine,” I mutter and dismiss Yasmine to get me some implements to please myself with.
There is a knock at the door a few seconds later and I call out, “Come in!”
As expected, it is my champagne, and not just a glass, but a whole magnum all to myself. Mm, I can definitely see the plus side of this mysterious binding.
“Thanks,” I mutter as the servant pours me a glass.
I glare at him when he takes a seat on the bed and pushes his hood back. My eyes go wide with delight.
“Evan!”
~ CHAPTER SEVENTEEN ~
Luc
I peer curiously at the semi-transparent being floating an inch over the top of my bed.
“Hello, lover,” Jezebelle drawls and wiggles her fingers at me. “Miss me?”
“How are you here?” I demand. “Your essence was devoured during the ritual.”
“Ah, not entirely true,” she says and floats over towards me. She places her hand centimeters from my face and my breath catches. “You want me to touch you,” she whispers. “I want that too.” Jezebelle heaves a sigh and drops her hand.
“Tell me how you are here,” I say, ignoring her remark and stepping back from her. My mind is racing. What is she doing here, now of all times?
“Before you bound with me, I extracted a small portion of my essence and left it in the portrait downstairs,” Jezebelle reveals. “An insurance policy, if you like, just in case I didn’t make it.”
“You didn’t make it,” I point out. “What has that got to do with why you are here now?”