Hell Bent

by Cate Corvin

  Hands picked me up, pulling me away from the edge of the pillar. I thrashed against them, only able to moan in agony through my raw vocal cords, but moments later blessed coolness washed away the pain.

  I couldn’t look at my arm. I still smelled scorched meat and blood and knew that smell was me.

  My vision blurred and the room spun around me as the disembodied hands carried me to the balcony.

  I peered up at Ereshkigal, who looked exhilarated, her pupils dilated and nostrils flared.

  “Such delicious agony,” she breathed.

  I drew in an agonized breath. “I won,” I said.

  Or I thought I said. Everything was still spinning, going black at the edges.

  I craned my neck to look down at the arena, and saw Belial, his mouth stretched wide in a roar my ringing ears couldn’t hear, bound neck to ankle with new ebonite chains.

  It took them hundreds of men to subdue him, my furious lion of fire.

  The Queen of the Dead pinched my burned arm. When she took her hand away, her fingertips were red and black, streaked with ash and gore.

  She put her fingers in her mouth. “So you did. The beast is yours.”

  10

  Melisande

  I forced myself to hold onto consciousness even as the guardians dragged me down the halls of the palace.

  It was tempting to pass out and let it all be washed away, but I gritted my teeth and held on.

  If she had Belial, she had to have the others, but there was no sign of them.

  The guardians held me upright between them and pulled me into a room that had become all too familiar over the last day.

  A demon in dark blue robes looked up from an alchemical still. “Oh, for the souls’ sakes, you again?”

  The guards settled me on a little white cot and let go.

  I slumped over on my unburned side. Hot tears prickled the corners of my eyes at the pain eating its way through my arm, and I still couldn’t stand to look at it.

  I’m dying. This is too much.

  The pain was destroying me, and yet… I was still here. Still breathing, still awake.

  The guards left us, and the healer swept around the table where he’d been working. Black hair hung over his shoulders in long braids, and he had tiny horns crowning his forehead.

  My memories of his face were extremely vague. I’d been in too much pain to care much about who he was or what he was doing. Every time I saw this room, the pain was too much.

  He sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of my arm, and reached out for me, turning it over.

  Then he made a noise of surprise. “It seems you’ll be fine.”

  “What?” I glanced down. He held my forearm in his hands carefully, my palm upright, but… the flesh over my palm was still intact.

  Belial’s mate mark stood out clearly against my unmarked palm. As we watched, fresh new skin began slowly creeping over the charred flesh of my fingers.

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, feeling dizzy.

  I should be dying.

  “I’ll give it a nudge, but you’ll be whole in an hour.” The healer’s magic pulsed into my arm, cooling the remaining heat until my limb felt numb.

  But the problem was that I shouldn’t be whole.

  This was how the Princes and archangels healed; only catastrophic damage would kill them entirely.

  If Ereshkigal had left me in the Ivory to bleed out from my whipped back, would I have awoken from the agony with fresh new skin?

  Or would I have just died?

  There had been only one change in my life since that day: Inanna’s power had crept under my skin and her magic had melded with mine for a brief time. Maybe I was still shielded by the remnants of her power, but when I reached inside myself, looking for magic that was out of place, I found nothing at all.

  Only dark fire and white fire, destruction and healing.

  The healer helped me lay back on the cot and told me to sleep before vanishing from the infirmary, but my eyes remained wide open.

  I stared up at the ceiling, considering what it could mean, and wondering where my lion was. He was going to be so enraged, but I’d done what I had to do. I’d won him from her.

  My arm began to itch as fresh skin inched its way towards my burned shoulder.

  This was longevity that should’ve been beyond me.

  Inanna?

  I reached out for her, but the goddess remained silent. Even if she had answered my call, she probably wasn’t going to give me a clear answer.

  My wing began to itch as new feathers grew in, replacing the ones Belial’s claws had ripped out. Everything was itchy, my body replacing itself like no damage had ever been done.

  I should’ve been overjoyed at this sudden development, but instead I was terrified. I hadn’t killed any Princes or archangels. The balance of the universe should not be shifting to balance the scales the way it had with Tascius.

  “Melisande.”

  I turned my head. A large shadow lurked in the doorway.

  When he stepped into the light, I resisted the urge to spit on him. Satan ignored the sneer on my face and pulled over a chair, sitting on it backwards with his legs on either side.

  He looked down at me, taking in the brand-new arm that had been so much cooked meat only an hour ago. “Does it still hurt?”

  I looked back up at the ceiling, not wanting to look him in the face. “No.”

  “Is there anything you need?”

  I looked back at him again in incredulity. His one brilliantly blue eye gleamed in the low light of the infirmary.

  “The only thing I need is to wipe you off the face of Hell.”

  Satan didn’t smirk or sneer or jab at me. A contemplative expression crossed his face—Nergal’s face, I reminded myself again— as he looked me over. “Doesn’t it feel good to win?”

  I resisted the urge to scratch my arm, itchy as it was. “Why don’t you get to the point so you can leave?”

  I flexed my fingers. Not a hint of the burning agony remained. They were as good as new.

  “It doesn’t have to be this way.” Satan reached out and brushed my feathers with his fingertips. A horrified shudder tried to run through me, but I kept myself still. “We don’t have to be enemies.”

  It was like he had no memory at all of savaging Lucifer and stealing his will, or kidnapping Vyra.

  “We will always be enemies. If the universe really has a balance, then you and I are on opposite sides of the scale, and always will be.” I knocked his hand away and shifted around, tucking my wings neatly under me.

  He got up off the chair and pushed it aside. I almost crawled right off the cot when he knelt next to me, close enough to feel his breath on my skin.

  “If you would only give in, I would do everything in my power to protect your baby.”

  I could only stare at him. This was another ruse. It had to be.

  He reached out and took my hand, squeezing just hard enough that I couldn’t pull away. “The infant would not become a blood sacrifice. It would live, and Ereshkigal would never lay a finger on it. You would live out your days with it, safe from all harm. All you must do is stop fighting me.”

  Satan seemed… completely earnest. There was none of his usual subterfuge written across his face.

  I remembered what they said about him on Earth. Father of Lies.

  He would lie through his teeth all day, but this emotion was almost human.

  I stared into his miscolored eyes and thought about my arm. By all rights, it should’ve been lost, and yet here I was, healing like an archangel. Something was wrong with the universe.

  Satan’s essence might take over whatever vessel he chose to infect, but this time, he’d taken over the body of a King of Hell.

  A Prime power… versus a Prime power.

  Was there a chance that somewhere deep inside, Nergal was still fighting to break free? Trying to maintain balance in the world?

  I licked my dry lips, and Satan�
�s eyes darted towards the small movement.

  “You must know that I’ll never stop fighting,” I said. “It’s in my nature, no matter what you offer.”

  Perhaps, if he thought I was considering it, I could watch and wait. If it seemed Nergal really was fighting to overcome the creature possessing his body… then it would be cold-blooded murder for me to kill him, even if I managed to kill Satan, too.

  If I were still alive inside myself and fighting to get out, I’d hope that someone would save me.

  I could spend more time appealing to Nergal, his better nature.

  Only then could the enemy of my enemy become my friend.

  “But I’ll consider it.” I turned my head back towards the ceiling. “You have to make a show of good faith, though. The Queen was willing to give me Belial, but only if I forced him to hurt me.”

  I scowled, my arm aching at the memory.

  “I want Lucifer. I want you to destroy the soul-bond between you and give him his free will back. If you can do that, then… I’ll give in.”

  Satan made a small noise in his throat. “A soul-bond isn’t easy to destroy, Melisande.”

  “If you made it, you can unmake it. Those are my terms.”

  He stared at me for a long moment, and I thought I might’ve overstepped my bounds, or gotten my theory about Nergal completely wrong.

  But he rose up, bent over to kiss my forehead, which made my skin crawl, and strode out.

  When he was gone, I breathed a sigh of relief. Satan’s presence was suffocating.

  Just because he seemed like the safer choice between the two rulers right now didn’t mean he was my ally. He wasn’t a haven in the storm, but a trap waiting to spring shut.

  An hour later, with my thoughts spinning, I got up off the cot.

  My arm was whole. My feathers had regrown.

  There wasn’t the slightest sign that I’d flown head-on into a Prince of Hell’s destructive fury.

  I laid my hand on my stomach, feeling for Sarai. My abdomen was just starting to distend; soon, maybe within a month, it would be apparent to everyone who looked at me.

  It didn’t matter now.

  I needed to make an ally of my greatest enemy and gather my men before it was too late. I needed Belial and Lucifer, two of my pillars of strength.

  I strode out of the infirmary and headed to my new room. If Ereshkigal had kept her word…

  He was laying on my bed. Still bloody, but healing.

  “Belial,” I breathed.

  11

  Melisande

  He raised his head.

  Belial’s aquamarine eyes glittered with suppressed rage and relief. “My angry angel.”

  I slammed the door behind me and strode across the room in three steps, reaching for him. His clothes were tattered, showing his healing wounds in all their bloody gore.

  He grabbed my hands before I could touch him, holding them away from his body.

  I froze in place, so close, yet so far away.

  “You’re here,” I said, my throat tightening. “I wish you weren’t caught in this too, but I’m glad you’re with me.”

  Belial cocked his head, his tangles of dark hair spilling down his back. “Don’t appeal to my emotions, woman. I thought I’d killed you.”

  I choked on a laugh. “Well, here I am, alive and well.”

  He didn’t look mollified.

  “I had to. She made me a deal I couldn’t refuse.”

  I twisted my hands out of his grip and jumped into his lap before he could stop me. Looping my arms around his neck, I hugged him tightly, breathing in the smell of dust, blood, and beneath it all the faintest spice that seemed to belong to him and him alone.

  “She told me that if I let you hurt me, she would give you to me. You’re mine, Belial. She can’t take you away from me.”

  Well, she could, but… it was better than watching him be tormented. As long as I stayed on her good side, she might not take him again.

  His arms slid around my waist and tightened. Belial buried his face in my shoulder and released a deep sigh. “I was furious at myself for not seeing you jump in. If you and Sarai had died, it would’ve killed me, angel.”

  “I’m here,” I whispered against his neck. “Belial, look. Since I’ve been here, something has changed in me.”

  I sat up and offered him my arm. The arm that had been burnt to a crisp not that long ago. “Your flames should’ve taken the arm entirely.”

  Belial stroked my forearm, his brow creased in a frown. He scanned my face, searching my eyes for something. “This is clearly a transmutation.”

  “Yes. The only problem is who, or what, I’m becoming.” I swallowed hard, feeling sickeningly nervous all over again. Was it a blessing, or a curse? “Did… did someone die while I’ve been here?”

  Thank all the gods Belial shook his head. “The last I saw, everyone was alive.”

  So, assuming they were still alive… I was taking the place of neither an archangel nor a Prince.

  Which left what? I didn’t want to consider that it was Inanna’s power. That was too much for one small angel.

  “What if I become a monster? This isn’t like Tascius’s transmutation. He took on Gabriel’s power almost immediately. This change has been slow, Belial. Today was the first day I ever healed this quickly, or from something so devastating.”

  His eyes darkened at the last word, and I bit the inside of my cheek, cursing myself. Of course he’d be pissed at himself, since he’d been the one to devastate me.

  “Don’t get that broody look. You know what I mean, and I’m the one who jumped in.” I looked down at my unmarked arm, flexing my fingers. They felt as good as new. “Right now this is a blessing. Ereshkigal won’t be able to hurt me for long anymore.”

  Belial gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “No matter what you become, I will always love you. Besides…” He scowled deeper. “You’re mated to a monster.”

  “You’re not a monster,” I told him.

  “I burned you. If it weren’t for this transmutation, you would be dead. So I’m pretty damn happy about it, no matter the end result.”

  I cupped his face in my hands, just happy to be able to hold him. “I chose the fire. Ereshkigal holds so much over my head, I was willing to risk it to make one of you mine again.”

  Belial didn’t look happy, but who could blame him? I knew he’d feel guilty about it for a long time.

  But that guilt was nothing compared to what he would’ve endured if Ereshkigal had kept him for herself.

  “Where are Azazel and Tascius? Please tell me they’re not here.” No matter how many times I’d prayed for one of them to save me… I didn’t really want them to come here. I’d rather suffer this alone than watch them be hurt.

  Belial looked up at me, his face solemn.

  “I don’t know,” he finally said. “Azazel gave Tascius orders. He remained deep in Irkalla, out of her reach. As for Azazel himself… I’m not entirely sure. I didn’t see what became of him.”

  I sucked in a breath and hugged Belial tighter. “At least I have you. I hope they got away.”

  But nothing was ever that easy.

  Belial hugged me back, stroking my hair. “After we were separated, I knew you’d be fine,” he said quietly. “But we came out of the Between a week behind you. We found the Spear and the corpse Satan left behind. Melisande… the smell of your blood…”

  I kissed his cheek. “They roughed me up,” I admitted.

  He just stared at me. “I smelled your blood all over the mountain. That’s a little more than roughing up.”

  I told him what had transpired: that Vyra had made it safely through the portal, and I had stayed behind for Lucifer.

  And then the Irkallans had begun their brutal little death-march.

  “It was hard, I won’t lie. I saved all my magic for Sarai. They starved me, hit me… but I was sure you would come for me.”

  I couldn’t admit the bleak moments of dou
bt I’d had.

  “And Sarai? She’s okay?” he asked.

  I started to open my mouth to tell him she was perfectly fine, but the words wouldn’t come out.

  He saw it in my face.

  “What.” He growled.

  I hesitated, and then told him.

  I left out how bad the whipping was, that I’d wanted to die just to end the pain. But I told him of Ereshkigal’s fury over the star Azazel had marked on my back, and the way she’d tasted Sarai’s presence in my blood.

  “She drank your blood?” he snarled.

  I quieted him with a finger to his lips. “Please don’t explode.”

  I told him of Ereshkigal’s strange change of heart—calling me little sister, convinced that the wheel of time had spun full circle— and that she had decided that the sacrifice of Sarai would seal a blood compact between us as sisters.

  Belial looked at me.

  His teeth began to lengthen, fires kindling in his eyes.

  “Belial. You know I would never sacrifice her. I need you to keep your cool so we can figure out how to win this.”

  He stared at the door. “She wants to eat my child.”

  “She’s not going to eat your child. Listen to me.”

  He didn’t settle entirely even when I explained my theory about Satan and Nergal. That maybe, if Nergal was able to control most of his body and emotions, that he would become an ally against the Queen of the Dead.

  Belial was still shuddering with suppressed wrath when I took his hands and looked deep into his eyes, unafraid of the fires burning in them.

  “I will find a way out of this. I promise you, if it’s the last thing I do, Sarai will live and be free.”

  He laced his fingers through mine, looking back into my eyes. “There is something different about you. You’re still my angry angel, but… you’re changing.”

  “Maybe I am becoming a monster,” I said in a low voice.

  Belial shook his head. “I told them you’d be strong. Anyone else would curl up in a cell and wait to die, but not you.” Despite his fury, there was a faint smile on his lips. “Not my Princess Wrath.”

  “I’m glad I won you, even if it hurt.” I touched his lower lip, where a fresh cut had healed over into a white scar. “We’ll burn her down together.”