The Quarter Moon (Afterlife saga)

by Stephanie Hudson

  “Give it up my friend and save that fury for the ring, as you will most certainly be needing it!”

  “No! I will fight, but only if you give me back the girl!” Sigurd roared at his back and I saw from upside down the shadows start to come out like tentacles, reaching for its prey. I tried to reach out and grab one, when one amused Lord Cerberus spun back round. I hoisted myself up and scrambled on to one enormous shoulder to get a look at what was happening to my friend.

  “Don’t worry… I will keep her close by until your fight is up and I have a feeling that we are going to become fast friends, this kitten and I.” And to prove his point, his palm connected with my fleshy cheek in a swift slap to my bottom. I yelped at the burn his hand left and flopped back down from being perched on his shoulder.

  “Now, are you going calm yourself or do I have to hurt her to prove a point?”

  “I will do as you ask, just don’t hurt her Cerberus!” Sigurd’s voice had taken its deep depths to pleading and it broke my heart at the sound.

  “And I am sure your kitten will do the same and be good for me, won’t you now?” I received a little shake when I didn’t answer, for the tears that formed and found a place to disappear on the ground. I nodded my upturned head and whispered a weak,

  “Yes.”

  “Come now, you can do better than that.” He gave me another shake, this time stronger than the last and I had to hold onto his leather jacket to stop myself from being whipped from side to side.

  “Yes!” I shouted making him laugh once again.

  “Of course you will, as will your protector. Have no fear my new pet, this night promises to be entertaining…very entertaining.” He added as he made his way back through the now parted crowd to the throne he once sat upon…

  New pet and all.

  Chapter 28

  Molten Silver

  I was quickly finding myself dreading being turned upright and would have been quite happy to spend the remainder of my days this way, if it meant I didn’t have to face Jared Cerberus. Ok, so this was a lie, but it still didn’t mean I was in any rush to be looking into the eyes of the very beast that guarded the gates of Hell!

  I wanted to make a fuss by kicking and screaming all the way back to the raised sitting area, but I knew this wouldn’t help me, or the situation I had forced Sigurd into. I also didn’t think it would have made much difference to the solid strength of one arm wrapped around my legs, holding them immobile. I bounced with every step but his shoulders were so wide they were ample enough in size to accommodate my bent waist.

  My big metal skull belt buckle dug into my belly and I had to hold in the moan of relief when we finally stopped moving. I had tried in vain at first to pull down the skirt I had felt riding up, but after a few more spanks and feeling like a naughty child, I decided to give up. I refused to scream out and kept my lip firmly between my teeth to keep from doing so. However, when I felt his teasing hand worm a few fingertips in the holes of my rose pattern tights to play along the skin on my thigh, I had squeaked out a protest and tried to get away. He had just laughed again, hoisted me further up his shoulder and gripped my legs tighter.

  I braced myself when I was lowered down the length of him and it turned out to be my first good look at the Demon Lord. I saw at the back of his head, hair now longer than mine and all of it pulled back into a leather tie. It was thick, wiry and a strange dark charcoal colour. I closed my eyes just as I saw the flash of silver in his penetrating eyes that were sizing me up, the same as I was doing to him, the only difference was that he didn’t chicken out from one look.

  When I felt my feet touch the ground, I braved a glance to find him wearing a very, worn pair of boots of cracked leather, obviously withered with age. They came up to his calf, but the laces were only tied halfway so they flopped back down, covering some of the heavy buckles. Tucked into these was ripped grey denim, slashed at the knees, showing a slice of tanned skin. One thing about the Lord that screamed out, was that he clearly liked to dress comfortably.

  It finally reached the point where I could no longer hide from those penetrating eyes, as I felt my chin being gripped between a finger and thumb. He forced my head up and on the way I saw the stretch of material that practically groaned at being expected to cover such muscle mass. He wore a plain black T shirt, leather waistcoat which, along with his leather jacket, also looked worn to the point of looking like rock hard skin on some type of black reptile.

  But then, I had nowhere else to look other than to take the beast into my sights and hoped I would be the same this time tomorrow…that is, with my throat still intact and my lungs still breathing.

  The first thing I noted was the black wiry beard that was shaped and trimmed on each side, only to come down longer on his chin into a point. He had a strong bone structure and a wide nose that suited the hard lines of his face. He also had a full pair of lips framed with the darkness of his facial hair and slightly arched eyebrows, one of which had a thick scar running through it. The end of the scarred flesh hooked slightly to one side, stopping halfway down his chin and disappearing behind his ear.

  But the most prominent feature and the one I had dreaded looking into, was a pair of startling silver grey eyes that were ringed by a thin black that bled slightly into the white. The skin around his eyes was naturally dark, adding a forbidding back drop to the intense stare I received. This, combined with the almond shape of his eyes and deeply tanned skin, gave him an exotic island look. It was as if he had acquired his great muscle mass from days of making village huts, lugging around tree trunks and wrestling live boars.

  And at that moment, I would have loved nothing more than to say how hideous he looked, but like the rest of the big players in this supernatural world, he was of course jaw-dropping handsome. Hard, rough and rugged were aspects that created a frightening beauty that one can only ever find in a beast of nature and Jared Cerberus was the Underworld’s equivalent of looking into the pale eyes of a rare white tiger.

  As soon as my face was released I looked away, unable to bear the weight it took to look at him straight on. I felt too vulnerable and wondered if this was due to what he was. Did everyone feel this way around him, with an unexplainable reason to fear being in the predator’s sights?

  “Now, there is a face of an angel hiding behind all this war paint.” He said while his thumb roughly smudged a line of my black lipstick down my chin. I noticed he wore heavy silver rings on three fingers, which added to the biker image. One was a series of metal flames that covered half his middle finger. The other two were thick twisted symbols I couldn’t recognise. On his other hand I saw only one big thumb ring that was a horned skull with the point coming past his nail in to a deadly tip.

  I pulled my face from his hold, noticing how coarse the skin on his large hands was. Scars and calluses marred long thick fingers that first fisted by my face, as if wanting to reach out again, but held back. Either that or he was about to punch me, but for some reason I didn’t think that was going to be the case. Proving I wasn’t about to get smacked around, he turned from me and snapped out an order to a girl sat further down from him.

  “Take her and clean that shit off her face!” At his barked order, a short girl full of bountiful curves got up and bounced over to me. She had bright orange hair with it cut in a harsh straight line high on her forehead. This highlighted the peach coloured skin on her round face and made her painted sunset lips a bright focal point in the creepy room. She had a piercing on either side of her cheeks, like two metal dimples and one bright red bar piercing the bridge of her nose.

  Her choppy cut hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and swayed with her wider hips as she walked closer to me, with a fuller figure lady swagger. She gave me a wink when Jared turned his back on us both and said in sweet voice,

  “Come on, sweetie,” and took my hand in hers to lead me away. I followed and felt somewhat relieved at meeting the first kind person in this Hell hole. She pulled me along with a sun
ny smile and winked at the singer when we passed the band. One look at those guys and winking was the last thing on my mind. I wrinkled my nose to hide my reaction to all the cracked black lines that covered their pale skin. They reminded me of full sized gothic male dolls, which had been smashed and been put back together using too much black glue.

  We got to three doors at the back of the room and the signs on them surprised a laugh out of me. The ladies’ was a picture of Little Red Riding Hood squatting in the woods. The men’s was a picture of a wolf dressed as grandma looking over his shoulder as he peed out of the window of a girly bedroom and the middle door brought me up short. It was an explicit picture of the wolf bending Red Riding Hood over and taking her from behind. Of course, before I needed to ask, I could hear sounds of rough sex coming from behind the closed door, which was obviously coming to an end.

  The orange haired girl held open the ladies’ door for me and laughed at the sight of my crimson blush. She was still giggling when the door closed and we approached the sinks.

  “Ah, don’t worry honey, there’s only one big bad wolf you need to worry about around here.” She winked at me again and swiped her tongue over her top teeth.

  “I’m Smidge by the way.” She added turning to face away from the mirror and shake my hand. I bit my bottom lip in preparation for the lie that was about to come from me.

  “I’m Cathy.” I said, using the nickname an old teacher had given me once, before I got the rest of the school in the habit of using my middle name. Although, if I had thought about it, I could have just said my name was Tricks, after what the Oracle had named me in her first letter.

  “Well Cathy, we don’t get many humans here, which begs the question, what did you do to one of my kind, to get into this shithole?” She asked, walking over to grab a couple of paper towels from the dispenser. I watched her and then my eyes focused on the back of her neck. I didn’t see it before, but now under the brighter lights the bathroom had to offer, it was fully on show. This girl’s shoulders were covered in yellowish scales that shimmered as her muscles moved but this wasn’t all. Instead of just the bones of her spine being more pronounced, they actually came up so close to the skin, it stretched over the points as though the skin would soon rip open if she moved too quickly. Each bone was triangular in shape, giving her exposed back a reptilian side.

  She turned back around and I knew she waited for my answer. The thing was though, this was the part of the lying process I never got round to ironing out. I mean, for starters, I had a big ass warrior dude who told me he would handle all the talking! So where did that leave the world’s worst liar...? In this shithole, up its own shitcreek, without a freakin’ paddle, that’s where!

  “It’s…well…it’s a long story.” I said lamely hoping miss cute, scaly and sunny lips would let the matter drop. She nodded and then started wetting the paper before handing me the soggy wad. When I frowned she nodded to the ‘shit’ on my face as wolfy back there had called it. I started to wipe my face clean and actually started to feel better after clearing my pores and not just from the heavy makeup. This place had you feeling all kinds of dirty and I felt like I needed a whole station of firemen to hose me down, to feel clean again…although this picture had its own dirty thoughts. I giggled at the thought of where my head was at.

  Smidge raised an eyebrow and smiled at me without comment.

  “Well, Jared was right, there is an Angel under there.” I blushed again at her compliment.

  “Ok, so can I ask you a question?” I decided to brave a question to the only kind person I had encountered.

  “Go for it.” She said shifting round her black tube top that connected to a bright orange layered skirt that matched her hair perfectly.

  “You’re like the only nice person that I have come across in here and I was wondering, what brings you to this ‘shithole’?” She burst out laughing and then reached up to pull her hair apart making her ponytail tighter.

  “I am Jared’s personal assistant.” I couldn’t help my mouth from dropping.

  “Really!?”

  “Yep, have been since the end of the seven year war.” Ok, so if my mouth was hanging before, now it was touching the floor!

  “But that was like seventeen…something!” I said not remembering the exact date.

  “Summer of 1763 to be precise, but Hell, who’s counting when you don’t look a day over twenty, right?” She said nudging me and my numb brain told me to nod so as not to be rude. All the while, of course, I am mentally adding up the years as we exited the bathroom. It took me the whole journey back to come up with a figure, as maths was most definitely not my strong point.

  “You’re at least 250 years old!” I shouted out without engaging a filter or even the good sense to know that we were no longer alone. Smidge giggled as my hands flew to my mouth in a hopeless attempt at taking it back.

  “I see you have been getting acquainted with my new pet, Smidge.” Her boss said dryly. I did what I do best in these embarrassing situations and that was make it sparklingly obvious with a torrent of blood rushing to my face and a tight grip on my bottom lip. His powerful eyes flashed molten silver at the site of my shame and then he was from his chair and in front of me in a heartbeat.

  “Now, why does this beauty seem familiar to me?” He said cocking his head to one side and bending slightly, trying to see me better. He was tall, but not gargantuan like Sigurd. He seemed more like Vincent’s height of 6’ 2” but he definitely had more hefty bulk than the Angelic Draven brother.

  “I…don’t know…you.” I stuttered out, looking down at my feet. This time it was his ringed thumb that raised my face to his, thanks to the painful point that dug under my chin. He didn’t say a word as he took in every detail of my face, one that was burning under the excruciating assessment. He ran the silver horn of his ring down my cheek no doubt leaving a dented trail which, thankfully, didn’t break the skin.

  “Not yet you don’t.” He made those four words sound like the threat he no doubt intended. I made a little yelp as he wound an arm around me and pulled me roughly to him. He then leant down to my neck and used his free hand to rip away the clasps that held the material from exposing my skin to his exploring lips. The little jacket didn’t stand a chance and now a large flap hung limp showing my hidden cleavage which, thanks to the neck of my top, showed far too much skin.

  I felt his rumble vibrate through my chest, which was pressed tightly to his solid torso and came out in a breath from the lips he had at my neck. He took my scent in with a deep fill of his lungs and another noise that sounded close to a gravelly purr sent goosebumps along my skin.

  “Please.” I whispered helplessly against him.

  “Please indeed. Don’t worry my pet, I will keep my vow and not harm you, but I said nothing about not playing with you.” He laughed at the shudder that wracked my body and I was glad he was still holding me up, as I felt as though my legs would have given out on me. I was scared shitless of what this body that held me captive could do to me, but more importantly, was that on a small level my own body was betraying my good sense to get away. Being held this way by such a commanding force was swamping my mind with memories of what it used to be like. To feel this need and this closeness from another being not of this world…well, it was like someone had just plugged me in.

  It was as if my body craved this supernatural touch from another and it was only the utterly ashamed feeling that also flooded my fragile system, that stopped me from climbing up his body like the damn pet he called me. I had to close my eyes tight when his hands reached up and held me by the neck gently. I knew he was taking in my responses and I felt the slow probing around the edges of my brain. He was trying to gain access to my mind and I was thankful that I still retained enough power to hold my shields in place.

  Sigurd had said that my mental walls would not work in here which, considering the amount of Demonic faces I had seen, he had been right. So, when the fortress that surrounded my thoug
hts held against such a commanding presence like Jared was inflicting, I was surprised when it held him firmly on the boundaries, denying him his power.

  “Now, that is interesting and starting to make sense.” He said leaning down so the words were only heard by me. Then he surprised the Hell out of me by granting me a brush of his lips on my nose in a sweet kiss, before taking my hand in his. He pulled me from my mental anguish and on opening my eyes, I saw that he was pulling me into a chair situated next to his.

  “Now, time to enjoy the show, as I am sure you would like the time to collect the right thoughts, that you will be sharing with me soon enough.” There was no escaping the demand in that statement, so I did as he suggested and kept silent until I no longer had a choice. After all, I had come here for a meeting with the only man who could get me into Hell, so what did I expect…that he would just take me there like a tourist with a paying ticket? Of course, there was no getting around what I would have to tell him, but then what? What would he do when he knew the truth…and more importantly, would I be regretting it once the real show began?

  Anyone seeing me sat here, being offered a drink by a waitress dressed as an evil Tinkerbell with a beanie hat on, would have thought I was in Jared’s VIP as a treasured guest. I took everything that was offered, as I had a feeling, very shortly I would be needing the alcohol. I looked to my side seeing the man himself, the Lord of his domain sat back on the most disturbing looking throne I had ever seen.

  It looked like burnt wood that had been carved into a design which could only be described as twisted souls trapped into the shape of a large chair. Arms out-stretched up the back as if trying to break out of Hell and reach Heaven. These limbs formed an arch with one singular hand holding a sword. The blade had hands trying to grasp it, until the highest point came above the others and could be seen clearly over Jared’s head. The sides were also carved black wood, only the flames of a hellish abyss licked at the start of the bodies trying to escape it.