Damned if I do (the Damned Trilogy Book 1)

by Elizabeth Stevens

  “How would one get into Hell?”

  “Suicide is always the quickest way,” Ignacio offered as he squashed his face against my window as if he’d seen something.

  “Uh…good to know. What about…without dying?”

  “Gates!” Kyle squeaked as he dropped imaginary sugar cubes in Abbit’s cup.

  “Gates?” I looked to Truman, who was likely to give me the most comprehensible response.

  “Indeed, ma’am. The gates would be a human’s best way in.”

  “Best?” I clarified, not liking the way that sounded.

  “Yes, ma’am. A human entering Hell, without some help, would have very little chance of getting into Hell unscathed. First, they would have to find a gate and survive the harrowing encounter with the gatekeeper. If they passed and made it through the welcome flames, they would still have to contend with Cerberus, who has strict instructions not to let any being in or out of Hell without his master’s explicit permission.”

  I knew his speech was designed to remind me of the very real dangers. It would put off any normal person from willy-nilly deciding on a jaunt down to Hell. But I wasn’t just anyone. It still sounded bad but, if all I had was a best shot, I’d take it.

  “So, it would take a remarkable human to make their way into Hell?”

  Truman nodded thoughtfully. “Without extraordinary circumstances or some measure of Cerberus’ regard, it would be almost impossible for even a remarkable human. Though many would say those qualities would only be granted to a human already exceptionally remarkable.”

  I smiled at his compliment, but wasn’t going to get distracted by it. “I don’t suppose devilbums know of any gates?”

  “If a human had the determination to enter Hell of his or her own volition, then I would be happy to show them the way.”

  “Kyle also! Kyle also,” he said, nodding vigorously.

  “I’m not keeping my mistress from her husband,” Ignacio grunted.

  I looked at them all and breathed out carefully. “Okay. Let’s go to Hell, boys.”

  Drake

  It had been months by my reckoning. Maybe a week by hers.

  In all the eons I’d survived in Hell, no time had felt slower. Millenia of torture, of collection, the endless monotony of the heat and the screams and the fucking souls, and this is what got to me. This absence.

  I hadn’t felt such a loss when my mother had died. But back then, my father had thrown every bauble and shiny toy and voluptuous woman at me a guy could handle. He’d made it his duty to keep me distracted and entertained. Most of it was for his own amusement. I’d been a new audience for his latest performances. But a small part of me had believed it was because he didn’t know how else to be fatherly.

  I’d long since grown out of even pretending to mollify his exploits, but that didn’t stop him falling back into old habits.

  I walked into his throne room to find it darker than usual. I was so lost in my own world that I didn’t see what was coming next. Even though it wasn’t the first time in the last few months.

  Opening bars rumbled out and a spotlight swung up to illuminate him standing on his throne. He wore a top hat, pushed low over his eyes. He wore one of his sparkliest suits, the sequins creating a blinding glare as the spotlight moved slowly over them.

  “What are you–?” My voice cut out with a hand from him.

  The song started out slow and low. It was mournful and capable of tugging a heart as cold as mine. There was true emotion in my father’s voice as the vocals rose in volume. It wasn’t a song that existed on earth. This was a Lucifer original, a song about loss and love and the inescapable marching of time. It was gut-wrenching. I felt my heart constrict in my chest, my throat got tight and hot.

  Just as I was going to go over there and physically rip him a new one, it all changed.

  The tempo switched. The lights went from the single spotlight to bright and garish and, as he rolled his top hat along his arms and shoulders from one hand to the other, his suit changed into something you saw in a kitsch Hawaiian hotel; white pants, a tropical shirt, a couple of leis, and even a ukulele. There were even violently bursting tiki torches and a tiny volcano that was dancing along with the tune as it shot spurts of lava into the air.

  “So, you’re all alone and now she’s gone,” was a line that sent me over the edge of mild annoyance and into heavy-duty anger.

  My wings sprouted and I charged him, pinning him to the floor with my hand over his throat. The show stopped abruptly and he looked up at me mock-innocently.

  “Was it something I said?” he squeaked, batting his eyes.

  “You think?” I snapped, pushing myself to standing.

  “If I could make a small observation…?”

  I rolled my neck. “Can I stop you?”

  “In the eons you’ve lived here, I’ve only ever seen your wings on Tussle Tuesdays. Easier to keep up with Cadriel that way, but…”

  “What’s your point?”

  “Well, only that it seems, whenever Serenity is involved, your first instinct is wings.”

  I frowned at him. “I don’t…” I shifted uncomfortably. “It is not.”

  “I just…” he cleared his throat loudly. “Well, the promise has been fulfilled. The bargain struck and kept. She went home. No one said how long she had to stay there.” He shrugged suggestively.

  “She’s better off on Earth.”

  “Is she?”

  My gaze narrowed. “What do you know?”

  He settled into what he considered his teaching mode. He completed it with a cardigan and spectacles. “Son, I was the first to sin. So says Daddy, anyway. I’ve spent quite literally the whole of time witnessing love in all its forms. Or lack thereof. It’s not in my nature for such things to affect me. But, as your father,” He pushed the glasses up his nose, “I feel obliged to tell you that you’re in love with her.”

  My eyebrow rose of its own accord. “Nah. You think?”

  Dad opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. “You know?”

  I threw up my arms in frustration. “Of course, I know!”

  “Then why in Hell’s name did you let me send her home? I thought you wanted her gone. I gave you ample opportunity to butt in. Why did you not fight tooth and nail to–?”

  “Because she doesn’t deserve to spend the rest of time here! She deserves a life. She deserves a good life and a good death and a chance to spend the rest of eternity in paradise.”

  “Oh, I see…” he said softly.

  “You see what?” I asked.

  He nodded knowingly. “No. Yes. I see. If you love her…”

  “Enough riddles, old man.”

  “Set her free…” he finished. He looked up at me with a grin. “Clever boy.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about. “What?”

  “Oh, you clever, sly, boy. If I’d ever had cause to doubt your parentage, this proves it. You can only be mine.”

  “What proves it?” I yelled. “Not the wings? Not the immortality? Not the ability to bend hellspawn to my will? Not the whole portent deal? Not even my propensity for torture?”

  Dad shook his head as he came over to me. He put his hands on my shoulders with a wide smile. “If you love her, set her free. If she’s yours, she’ll return to thee.”

  I shrugged him off. “She’s not coming back. And I’m not going to get her.”

  “Why? What did you tell her?”

  I sighed. “I didn’t tell her anything.”

  He smacked up upside the head. “Stupid boy!”

  “What?”

  “She went home believing you felt nothing for her?”

  “What was I supposed to do?”

  “Spend eternity in a love-filled marriage!” he cried like it was obvious.

  “Excuse me if I don’t take marital advice from a man with multiple failed marriages, will you?”

  “I thought we’d c
overed this? Children don’t get to meddle in the affairs of their parents.”

  “Well, ‘affairs’ is certainly the perfect word for it.”

  He sighed deeply. “You do not know how I regret the traits you inherited from your mother.”

  “Can you, just once, keep your scathing comments about her to yourself?”

  “That was not meant as a slight, son,” he said quietly. “Your life would be easier if you only took after me. But you are half-human, and destined to feel with the heart of a human no matter how much you try to harden yourself. Its’s just the way it is. I would give anything to change that, to make your existence easier, but even your grandfather cannot.”

  I took a second to get my head around that, around the moment we seemed to be having. It was the most intimate conversation we’d ever had. It was the only time in my entire existence I could remember him openly showing me even a hint of affection or attachment. Hot on the heels of Wren’s loss, I wasn’t sure I could take it. It was too much emotion for a heart that had felt nothing for too long.

  “Don’t,” I choked out.

  “Don’t what?” Dad asked.

  “Don’t start with that now.”

  “I’m not starting anything. I…” He cleared his throat. “I’m merely taking a minute to…try to help my son.”

  “Can you not?”

  “Well, I’d much prefer not. All this emotion is…unseemly.”

  “And don’t start with that.”

  He raised his hands innocently. “Not starting anything.”

  I nodded once. “Good.”

  “So… What’s on the cards? Some more personal torture? Put some more work into the Millennial Meme Field? Or are you just going to go and mope in your room?”

  I was going to go and mope in my room. Not that I was going to admit it out loud. But I didn’t need to, because I’d got my mind-reading powers from somewhere. Or someone. That someone knew the answer, and knew what I thought about him knowing the answer.

  “Uh huh,” he huffed. “And that room you did up just for her is going to go untouched until the end days, is it?”

  “Maybe,” I sulked.

  When I’d first brought Wren back, I’d had no idea how things would go. I’d had no idea that we’d have to actually be together before the marriage was official. So, I’d made up a room for us to share, leaving my room available if I’d needed – or wanted – a space of my own for…my own stuff. Okay, it was sex stuff. Sex with not her.

  If I’d known what Wren was like, if I’d known how she’d make me feel, if I’d known we’d have to sleep together, I would have just had her in my room. But I hadn’t and, despite the fact our room felt more like mine that my previous room, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to going back in it since she left.

  Neville stood watch outside it day and night, making sure no one went in there and disturbed it. I wanted it left the way she had. Especially after our last night and morning together. Aside from the glitter and the immediately following events, it had been perfect.

  “What do you care anyway?” I snapped. “Your torture rate is up like six hundred percent. More blood. More pain. More wretched despair. Hell has never been such a well-oiled machine. I’d have thought you’d be pleased!”

  “Pleased?” he scoffed. “Really. What am I? A monster?” He looked at me pointedly and he turned into a literal monster. “Don’t answer that.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not in the mood for your shit right now.”

  He deflated, literally like an inflatable Frankenstein, but didn’t say anything as I turned and left the room.

  “Afternoon, Master Drake,” Neville said as I inadvertently passed him.

  I paused and looked at the door above his head.

  “Want me to open it up for you, sir?”

  I almost took a step towards it. I almost nodded. The smell of her was becoming a distant memory I was clinging to like a man drowning. But I wasn’t going to become one of those men who hung onto pieces of her in desperation. I didn’t need to wallow in my agony, I needed to use it to strengthen myself.

  Cadriel was on Earth on an errand for Samyeza.

  So, if experiencing blinding pain wasn’t available to take my mind off her, inflicting it was going to have to do.

  “Thanks, Neville. I’ve got to see a bloke about some torture.”

  “Anytime, sir. Have an infernal day.”

  “Yeah, you too.”

  Wren

  “This way. This way,” Kyle called as he disappeared around a bend.

  Truman hung between Kyle and me as though he wasn’t sure who needed more protection. He threw the occasional look back at me

  Ignacio, though, seemed to think for once that Kyle could handle whatever we came up against better than me. He stuck close by my side. His ears twitched this way and that as though he was constantly on alert.

  After all I’d been through in the past month, after everything I’d seen, it was nice to know I could still be totally freaked out by the unknown. Except, I think most of my panic was at the idea of seeing Drake again rather than being concerned about what hellspawn we’d meet along the way.

  It hadn’t taken me long to convince the devilbums to show me the closest gateway back into Hell. It had still taken us a bit of time to get there and Harmony had demanded to drive us. Although, driving anywhere long-distance with three devilbums in the backseat was a whole new experience. I was pretty sure I knew how parents felt on road trips.

  So, Harmony was on her way back home again and the boys and I were looking for the gateway into Hell. Because, like any sane, rational person, I was choosing to go back to Hell. I felt very Ancient Greek, just significantly lacking in the quest department.

  I finally got around the bend and saw Kyle bouncing next to a rock wall that abruptly cut off what barely counted as a path.

  Ignacio grunted and looked around, holding his makeshift spear in his claws tightly.

  “We go in, ma’am,” Truman said.

  “In?” I clarified.

  “There’s a fissure here.”

  He held back the vines and I ducked to slip between the rocks where he pointed. Kyle took my hand gently, his claws cool and hard against my skin, and tugged me forward. My eyes took a while to adjust. But, as they did, I saw we walked into a large cavern.

  The floor was impossibly smooth, meeting the bottom of the jagged walls as they arched up and over us many feet above. There was another fissure at the other end, through which I could see the flickering of flames that was both unnerving and tantalising. I could just hear the familiar soundtrack of Hell – faint screaming, but nothing too horrifying so as not to overly scare the tourists.

  “This way, ma’am,” Truman said softly.

  The four of us took tentative steps forward, even Ignacio who was almost always the first one into the fray. As we got closer to the fissure, the dull sound of bells thundered through the cavern like some perverted shop bell. I also saw there was a shadowy form at the base of the fissure.

  The form was a large stone throne and on the throne was a girl who looked barely older than me. She was sitting sideways; her back against one arm rest and her legs over the other. She had dark purple hair, pulled up into a style that looked centuries out of fashion. But she wore jeans and a hoodie like it was totally normal. I couldn’t quite see what was in her hands, but she was staring at it.

  As we neared the base of the throne, something caught on my foot and a small stone scattered away.

  The girl looked up sharply, her eyes glowing bright yellow in the semi-darkness. She looked around, taking everything in in the space of a heartbeat. She stood up slowly, looking regal and authoritative.

  “Speak,” her voice boomed around the cavern.

  “Miss Grace,” Truman started, stepping forward.

  But she cut him off. “Human. Speak.”

  I looked down at the devilbums, but they pushed me f
orward encouragingly. I swallowed hard, not sure why I was feeling so nervous.

  “I… Um, hi,” I started lamely.

  “What brings you to this gate, human?”

  “I… Well, I need to get into Hell.”

  She looked me over. “What business have the living in the afterlife?”

  “It’s…kind of personal.”

  “Any living who wish to pass through these gates must answer to the gatekeeper. That you have captured three of Hell’s creatures will not help you.”

  I looked at the boys, who had implied this was going to be a lot easier than this.

  Suddenly, the girl laughed and I looked back to see her jogging down the throne’s stairs. “Sorry.” She waved her hand at me as she stopped. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Of course, I know who you are. Oh, my Lucifer! Truman, it’s actually her!”

  “Ma’am, might I introduce Miss Grace, the gatekeeper,” Truman said.

  I looked between them, wondering why it was taking me so long to reconcile what I was seeing. “Miss Grace?”

  “Grace, please, Mrs Morningstar.”

  Oh, I had so many feelings upon hearing that. “Call me Wren,” I choked out.

  “It is so wonderful to meet you, Wren. I would have come to see you earlier, but I’m kind of stuck here until the end of time, you see.” Grace seemed overly enthusiastic about that.

  I nodded. “Uh, no. Sure. Uh…why?”

  “Oh. It’s my punishment.” She pointed to the fiery gash in the rock behind her. “Eternity as a gatekeeper.”

  “Eternity.”

  She nodded. “Yeah. But, as you know, time’s a loose construct down here.”

  I could only nod again. “Of course.”

  Grace grinned and stepped back. “Right. So, on you go then. All public gates lead to Cerberus, mind. He’s kind of a necessary good.”

  “Ma’am, we really should go,” Truman said.

  “Good luck!” Grace said as the devilbums started ushering me towards the gate.

  I waved to Grace awkwardly as I steeled myself. I didn’t have time to finish taking a breath as the boys gave me an encouraging hug and I felt the literal flames of Hell lick me as I passed through the gate.