Damned if I do (the Damned Trilogy Book 1)

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Damned if I do (the Damned Trilogy Book 1) Page 5

by Elizabeth Stevens


  It was like none of them had seen the room before.

  Interested, I took in everything I could from the tunnel. I could see the pattern of flame flickering, sending shadows dancing across the little I could see. There was the end of a four-poster bed covered in what looked like a plush comforter. There was the back of a chair, a whole lot of floor space and an apparent lack of windows. Which, I realised, shouldn’t really surprise me given where I was.

  “Are you going in?” Drake asked and I looked to see him watching me with expectant annoyance.

  I pulled myself together, nodded, and awkwardly squeezed between him and the door frame to enter the room. My body pressed up right against his, not that he seemed to mind in the slightest. I hoped my red cheeks could be attributed to the unnecessary heat and not a sign I was embarrassed I’d somewhat enjoyed it. I cleared my throat and took another look around the room.

  Lack of windows notwithstanding, it didn’t exactly scream Hell.

  In fact, it was almost cosy.

  As I looked around, the fire in the hearth grew and candles flickered to life, giving me a better view of the dark wood-panelled walls, the furniture made of a mixture of lighter wood and stone, the materials in red and brown and off-white, and the polished stone floor. It reminded me of ski chalets you saw in movies, although I was sure the fireplace was unnecessary.

  “This is…” I breathed out.

  “It is the best Hell has to offer,” Truman said as though it was an apology.

  I looked at him with a small smile. “I was going to say kind of nice.” I walked towards the bed and put my bag down.

  “Don’t leave this room without me or one of the boys,” Drake commanded as I unzipped to unpack.

  “So, I don’t get my own devilbums?” I rolled my eyes as I pulled off my hoody.

  “Truman, Ignacio and Kyle will see to every need…I cannot.” Somehow, he managed to make that sound super dirty and sexy at the same time it sounded incredibly domineering – and not just in a good way.

  “Great. And where’s your room?”

  There was a long enough pause that I knew I wasn’t going to like his next sentence.

  Finally, he confirmed all my suspicions. “This is our room.”

  Drake

  “You have to be kidding me,” she said, crossing her arms and turning back to me with a glare that could freeze the molten throne under Dad’s arse.

  “Yeah, I don’t do that,” I told her.

  “I am not sharing a room with you.”

  “You don’t really have a choice.”

  “You never mentioned I’d have to share a room with you.”

  “We’re married. What did you expect?”

  “I’m going home.”

  “I’m not taking you.”

  “I’m sure I can find my own way out.”

  She walked towards the door, but I put my hand against the frame of the closed door to stop her opening it.

  “Serenity, you go wandering around out there and who knows how long you’ll be lost.”

  “Wren.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “I go by Wren now.”

  I huffed. “Fine. Wren.”

  She was a holy enigma and I couldn’t get my head around it. By human standards, she was taking this far better than I’d expected. I’d even seen her smiling absently as she watched Kyle’s antics. She’d barely baulked at the idea of being my wife and coming to Hell. But sharing a room with me was enough to break the deal? I didn’t understand. And I sure as Heaven wasn’t about to negotiate anything. She was in my domain now with no way home; I was in charge now. Although, I had to concede that I wanted this to go better than it currently was.

  She was centimetres from me, smelling sweet and tempting. She was glaring at me, which got every single motor I owned running – nothing I liked better than angry sex. And my wife wasn’t just angry with me, she was exuding hatred in a way that made me hard. My fingers itched to see if she was as soft as she looked. I wanted to know if she tasted as sweet as she smelled. I wanted to know if that streak of vixen I’d seen behind the mask of innocence would take over in bed.

  But it was more than that.

  As her green eyes bored into mine, I felt the first real battle of wills I’d encountered since I’d arrived in Hell. I clashed with my father constantly, but nothing I did would diminish his supremacy over me and Hell. I could pick a fight all I liked with any other hellspawn but, no matter what I told them, they always deferred to me. I’d been caught between being more powerful than all but one man for eons, but Wren didn’t care about propriety.

  And that sent a thrill through me I’d never felt before.

  “We are not sharing a room,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “This is not a negotiation. That bed is our–”

  The door pushed me forwards, which meant I ran into Wren. My arms went around her instinctively to keep her from falling. For a brief moment, there was less hatred in her eyes and I saw there was a flicker of desire. She wanted me. Even if she didn’t want to. That I could work with. The rules of Hell were not the rules of Heaven or Earth.

  “Um, sir?” I heard and remembered why Wren was in my arms.

  I let her go somewhat abruptly and turned to the guard demon. “What is it, Neville?” I snapped.

  Neville bowed his head. “Sorry to interrupt, sir. But his devilness is ready for you.”

  I sighed and prayed to Grandad for strength – someone in our family had to be normal, surely? “Right. He wants us now then?”

  “Yes, sir. He’s got a whole…thing in motion.”

  Of course, he did. He’d regaled me with many plans before I’d left. They’d all included dinner and at least one show. “Sure.” I looked to the boys. “Truman, unpack Wren’s things.”

  Wren started, “I can–”

  But I cut her off. “This could take hours. In the best-case scenario. Truman will unpack your things.” I looked her over in her jeans and t-shirt. “How confident are you in meeting the devil wearing that?”

  She looked down at herself. “Is there something wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  I snapped my mouth shut before something unnecessarily rude came out. “I don’t care what you wear. Dad will have a problem with whatever you wear. So, it’s up to you.”

  Wren huffed out. “So helpful. Okay. I’m fine then.”

  “Neville, take us to my father,” I said.

  He bowed and turned to lead us out.

  “Kyle come?”

  I looked back at him as Wren followed Neville. Ignacio had one hand firmly around Kyle’s arm to stop him following, and Kyle’s face was turned down in an epic pout, even by his standards.

  “Not this time. Stay and help Truman.” Kyle’s frown turned upside down and he wrenched himself out of Ignacio’s grip to run to Wren’s bag. “Help, Kyle! I said help. Don’t break–”

  Wren stopped me with a soft hand on my arm. “You put the things back where you think I’d put them,” she said to Kyle gently. Kyle’s head tilted sideways. “You remember where I got them all from?” Kyle nodded. “Okay. You put them back in the most similar places. Yeah?”

  He nodded. “Kyle do that.”

  I wasn’t sure what surprised me more. Wren’s hand on me – such a simple, even almost tender, unconscious action – or how kind she already was with Kyle.

  Kyle was young by devilbum norms. He wasn’t so much simple as he was enthusiastic and loyal, and still incredibly naïve.

  “Do as Wren says,” I snapped before sweeping out after Neville.

  It’s not like I needed him to show me the way. But something about it felt more official than if I’d just taken Wren myself. Plus, she’d taken me off guard one too many times in as many minutes, and I felt all weird and more annoyed than usual.

  Wren kept up pretty well through the tunnels. I’m sure she paid more attention to who – or what – we
passed than I did. I was just focussed on the doors to my father’s throne room, seeing them in my mind’s eye long before they actually appeared in view.

  Neville stopped just short of them.

  The doors burst open before we got to them and heat blasted out along with the familiar sound of the bongo introduction to Dad’s favourite Earth song. My dad was nothing if not a showman.

  “Son, you have returned,” his voice boomed ominously around the room as we stepped into it.

  I could feel Wren trembling next to me and that pissed me off more than his melodrama.

  “Shut off the theatrics, old man,” I yelled.

  The smoke condensed and solidified into the image of my…

  “Oh, come off it,” I muttered, looking him over. I crossed my arms and waited to see what he was going to do with this.

  He was red from head to toe, his dark hair slicked back, horns protruding proudly, his pinstripe suit impeccable, his Oxfords polished, his cane shiny, his grin white, even the beard on his chin was pointed to perfection.

  And he was going to do nothing with this because he had to put on The Show; most newbies to Hell got it – flames and heat and death. You know, the postcard stuff. He’d even strung up some souls around the room so they looked properly tormented. I saw Larry among them and nodded to him. I saw a thin flicker of a grin cross his gaunt, dark, gormless features and then he was back to acting again.

  I put a hand behind Wren and she took a few stumbling steps towards my father. “Wren, allow me to introduce the Lord of Hell. Lucifer. Satan. Hades. The devil. I call him Dad. Dad, this is my wife, Serenity.”

  “Most men seem happier on their wedding days,” Dad said to Wren in a mock-whisper as he leant towards her and I didn’t blame the freaked out look she shot me.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I told him. “Most married men presumably want to be married and aren’t stuck in a timeless hell.”

  “Cheery lad, isn’t he? Gets it from his mother’s side,” Dad said as he waggled his eyebrows and Wren’s look was a little more ‘is he for real?’ this time.

  “Are we doing this dinner, or what?” I snapped.

  Dad sighed in exasperation and waved his fingers. “All right, everyone. Show’s over.” The tortured souls were released from their manacles to go be tortured somewhere else, the temperature fell to its usual level of uncomfortably hot, and the room returned to the usual dark stone chamber with the throne at one end. The dining table currently running down it was a special feature.

  “All right, Drake,” Larry nodded as he floated over.

  “Yeah, all right, Larry,” I replied. ‘How’s it going?”

  “Oh, you know. Nice to get out for a bit. You know? Do something a little different.”

  I nodded. “I’ll bet.”

  “We still on for tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

  “See you later.” He floated a little towards Wren. “Nice to meet you, Mrs Drake.”

  Wren’s already pale face lost another level of colour as she nodded slowly. “Uh, you, too… Larry, was it?”

  “Out of the flesh, ma’am.”

  “Larry, don’t you have somewhere to be?” Dad called.

  Larry threw me a grin. “See you later, then.”

  “Yeah, later, Larry.” I kicked my chin at him and he followed the rest of the souls up through the ceiling.

  “This is…” Wren started. She licked her lip, then looked around me to Dad. “That’s your… The devil?”

  I shrugged. “Yep.” I strode towards Dad. “So, where’s the step-monster?” In my case, it was true.

  “Pleasure as always, Drake,” came the hiss that signalled Esther and I heard Wren yelp.

  I turned and gave Esther my fakest smile. “Looking terrifying as always,” I told her.

  Which wasn’t a lie. Esther looked like she was carved from the purest white marble. Her skin and her hair were more suited to a winter wonderland than the fiery depths of the most condemned place in creation. She even wore all white clothes, not that they really covered anything. Her eyes were pure black. The only colour on her was red. Blood red. Her lips were red, her eyes were surrounded in red like a toddler had gone crazy with eye shadow, and she wore a red crown on her head. There were also the light splatters of blood constantly dripping over her body like she’d just come from a light shower.

  “Thank you, Drake. This is your chosen wife?”

  Esther’s voice didn’t grate on your ears, it wasn’t even screeching. But every time she opened her mouth, I felt the same unpleasant shiver as when you hear fingernails scraping down a chalkboard.

  “Wren, this is my father’s wife, Esther.” I pointed between the two of them.

  Wren’s eyes looked like they were about to bug out of her head as Esther glided towards her.

  “Leave the human be,” Dad snapped. “I worked so hard on this dinner. And I will not have it ruined because my family can’t keep their teeth – or anything else – in their trousers. Do you hear me?” He lost the petulant child look and smiled at Wren. “Come, Serenity. Come and sit. Can I get you a drink?”

  I watched Wren nod and move towards him like she was on autopilot. The first time I’d seen that behaviour, I’d failed to realise how fast her mind was whirring. I’d assumed it had slowed. I wasn’t going to make that mistake with her again.

  I took a quick dip into her mind and caught too many thoughts for even me to process. But she was processing it all in her own way and I was sure I’d see the girl who didn’t shy away from challenging me again soon. I was mainly looking forward to seeing if she’d give challenging my father a shot, too.

  “Excellent! Excellent,” Dad exclaimed as he helped Wren into a seat to the left of the head of the table.

  Esther made her creepy noiseless way to her chair at what I called the butt of the table – the opposite end to the head – and I dropped to Dad’s right.

  Dad waved his hands in a flourish I could see was becoming more astounding than confusing to Wren, and a flagon of wine appeared in his hand. I sighed loudly and Dad glared at me to be quiet.

  “What?” I shook my head. “It’s not even that good.”

  Dad gasped. “Not that…? How dare you! This was Alexander’s favourite wine!”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. Still not that good.”

  “I’m sorry…” Wren said quietly, as though she was already regretting speaking. “Who is…Alexander?”

  “Who is Alexander?” Dad asked, scoffing at me. “Alexander the Great!” Wren’s face was still blank. “King of Macedon.” Still blank. “His empire stretched from Greece to India, and down into Egypt.”

  Wren shrugged. “Don’t know him.”

  Dad waved a hand at her. “Never mind. I’ll introduce you to him later. He’s wonderful at parties. But this,” he held the jug aloft, “was his favourite wine.”

  “Little bit meaningless if she doesn’t know who he is, don’t you think?” I asked.

  “No one asked you for your opinion, Mr Cranky-Pants.” Dad looked at Wren. “Honestly. The boy’s married, and he chooses to gripe over wine!” Dad laughed as he started pouring.

  “Uh…I’m not quite…” Wren started uncertainly.

  “Legal?” Dad clarified with a knowing wink and Wren nodded. “A concept that is very young in our world, darling.”

  “Oh.”

  “Besides, let’s not pretend you haven’t had a few drinks anyway, eh?” he chuckled as he sashayed over to me.

  Wren said nothing, only blushed and took a sip of wine.

  But she didn’t need to, Dad made plenty of conversation for all of us. He talked through finishing with the wine, dinner appearing, the first two courses, and the intervening musical numbers, including a fire-juggling guard demon on a unicycle.

  “Right. So, did you spend all week in bed?” Dad asked during the third course like it was normal dinner conversation. “Or did you show
Drake around Earth for a bit, too?”

  Wren choked on her mouthful. “Sorry?”

  “Bed. Sex.” Dad looked at her like he was sure she wasn’t that stupid. Then he looked at Esther with an expectant hand flourish. “Am I speaking Greek?”

  Esther’s face was somehow expressionless and smug. “She understood you. He has failed to bed her.”

  I resented that. “Hang on–”

  “Is this true, son?” Dad asked.

  Wren was looking between everyone like she didn’t want to believe the conclusion she’d come to.

  “Yes,” I finally admitted, somewhat sourly. “I haven’t…bedded her.”

  Dad dropped his cutlery on his plate with a disappointed huff. “Well that doesn’t count then.”

  “Excuse me?” Wren and I both asked.

  Dad threw his arms up. “Doesn’t count.” He motioned between us. “Marriage only counts if you’ve consummated it.”

  “I’m not having sex with him!” Wren cried.

  I wasn’t sure what slight I wanted to address first. I pointed at Dad. “Firstly, you never said anything about me having to fuck her.” I turned my finger on Wren. “Secondly, why not?”

  Wren shook her head, dropped her cutlery onto her plate, and pushed herself to standing. “No. I’m not sleeping with a guy I’ve just met, let alone the son of the devil.”

  Dad sat forward and dropped every ounce of joviality he usually possessed. “You are here as Drake’s wife, Serenity. You will not leave here until he has bedded you. You can fight all you like, but I always find these things are so much more…pleasurable when you just accept them.”

  Wren looked right at me with a scared determination on her face. “I’m not sleeping with you.” She nodded as though she needed the encouragement, then looked at my father. “Thank you for dinner. It was…nice to meet you.” She nodded once more, then hurried back out of the room.

  “You are not going after her?” Esther asked, her voice as emotionless as always.

  I shook my head. “I think it’s safer I give her a moment. Neville’ll show her back.”

  Dad’s chuckle was soft and low, truly the devil the world thought they knew. “Well.”

 

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