Welcome to Hell Box Set: Paranormal Romantic Comedy

by Demelza Carlton

  "Right. How many cards you trading?" Kasyade said with his eyebrows raised.

  "I'll go four," Merihim announced, throwing them down.

  Kasyade swiped them up neatly and dealt him four fresh cards. Merihim's frown deepened as he looked at the cards, but he didn't say anything.

  "Mel?"

  "Mm?"

  "How many cards are you trading? How many of the ones in your hand do you want to discard and replace with new ones?" Asmodeus asked patiently.

  "Oh!" Mel peered at the backs of her cards, still face-down on the table. She looked thoughtful for a moment. "No, thank you. I'd like to keep these, if that's okay."

  "All of them?" Asmodeus pressed. "Usually there's one or two, at least, and you could get a much better hand if you trade them in..."

  Mel shook her head. "No, it really is okay. I'll keep the ones I have. It's a game of luck, right?" She smiled around the table.

  Kasyade stared at her, mesmerised, as if he still didn't believe her. He had the look of a man who had just won a lot of money in a lottery, Mel decided. She shrugged. "Mo's next, right?"

  Asmodeus had his two cards up, ready to trade. Kasyade's gaze swung to Asmodeus and he replaced the cards mechanically.

  The other demons seemed intent on their own cards, so only Mel watched as Kasyade discarded one of his and dealt himself a new one. His big hands concealed his cards for a few seconds, and Mel wondered what he was trying to hide.

  Kasyade seemed to notice her scrutiny and set his cards on the table, clapping his hands. "Right. Next round of betting. Merih?"

  Merihim pouted at his cards, then pulled out another five-dollar bill and surrendered it to the pot.

  Mel hesitated. "I can match or make a larger bet, can't I?" she asked.

  "Or fold," Kasyade added.

  "Right." Mel nodded thoughtfully. She glanced at the piles of cash around the table. Kasyade seemed to have about as much as Asmodeus and Merihim put together, which was more than Mel had, too. "If I'm only playing one game, I could bet all of this, couldn't I?"

  Three shocked pairs of eyes stared at her. Asmodeus attempted to smile. "You could, but it's usually safer to place smaller bets at first, until you get the hang of the game and the measure of your opponents..."

  Mel smiled back. "You mean you all want to play cards with me again some time? When I'm not on such pressing business, of course. That would be lovely."

  All three men nodded fervently, their gaze shifting to the money she was carefully transferring to the pot.

  "I believe I'm all in?" she said.

  "Y-yeah," Asmodeus stammered, throwing his cards down. "I can't match that. Fold."

  Merihim dropped his cards, too. "Same."

  Kasyade looked at Mel, who kept her serene smile firmly on her face. It was just a game to her, after all, and when it was over, she'd be able to pass through those gates and continue to Luce. The faster the game ended, the better. There definitely wasn't any point in drawing this out.

  Kasyade opened his mouth.

  Mel said, "Kas, you should probably fold, too. It would be in your best interests." She returned his gaze with concern.

  Merihim coughed. "Mel, you shouldn't warn him if you have a good hand. Let him take the risk with his money and his hand – the point of the game is to win. You won't win if you tell people what you have in your hand. You could win some of our money back if you keep your cards a secret."

  Mel tilted her head. "I don't understand. If Kas folds, I win. Isn't that the point?"

  Merihim started to reply, but Kasyade cut him off. "But the point is, I don't fold, angel. I'll not just match your bet – I'll raise you. I'll go all in, too. And you're out of cash." He grinned. "I'll take payment in other forms. Whatever you're offering."

  Asmodeus and Merihim looked from Kasyade to Mel to their remaining funds. In unison, both men pushed their stacks toward Mel. "The rest of the coffee machine money, Mel," Asmodeus said.

  Merihim nodded. "Yeah, I'll bet on you over my own hand any day. Match him."

  Once again, Mel hesitated. "Are you sure, Kasyade?" she asked.

  "Fold or match my bet, angel. Stop stalling," he replied.

  She bowed her head. "I will match it." She counted out the money required and added it to the pot. What remained would barely buy lunch for the three of them on the Terrace.

  Kasyade laughed. "Kiss my ass, angel. Four aces, look." He threw the hand down to reveal his cards to them all.

  Asmodeus swore, but Merihim's jaw tightened. "What do you have, Mel?"

  "I don't have four of a kind," she admitted. "Actually, I don't have more than one of anything."

  Kasyade laughed even harder. "You've got balls, angel – I never met one who could bluff like you before. I'll tell you what – I'll buy you a beer out of my winnings." He reached for the pot.

  "NO!" The shout came from both Asmodeus and Merihim.

  "I believe I have to show you my cards first," Mel stated. Her hands shaking a little, she turned over her fanned cards on the tabletop.

  A hush fell.

  "A royal flush," Merihim breathed.

  "That's not possible!" Kasyade insisted. "I have all four aces. She must have been hiding the cards somewhere!"

  Merihim looked from Mel to Kasyade. "Mel only touched those five cards, Kas, and she was naked when she arrived." He addressed Mel. "Where did you get the cards in your hand?"

  "Kas dealt them to me," she replied.

  "She's lying!" Kasyade declared.

  "Angels don't lie," Asmodeus said slowly. "And they don't cheat, either. You've been cheating all night, you son of a harpy!" The table, money and cards went flying as Asmodeus dove for Kasyade. Kasyade got his arms up to shield his head, so all that got hurt was his sleeve, ripped up the seam to his elbow. Two more aces and a king fell out. "Forfeit! Forfeit all your winnings, you lying, cheating..."

  Mel heard the smack of flesh on flesh, then bone breaking as Asmodeus and Kasyade hit the floor. She stood, hoping to help, but not sure how.

  Merihim spread his arms. "You wanted to open the gate and go through, right? Now's probably a good time." He led her away from the wrestling demons. "How did you know he was cheating?"

  Mel shrugged. "He had too many cards sometimes and some of them simply disappeared." She swallowed. "I gave him the opportunity to fold without having to show his hand, so he could make reparation to you both with his dignity intact, but he refused. I had hoped..."

  Merihim snorted. "You're too innocent for your own good, Mel. We're demons. Damned, never to be redeemed."

  Mel wished she could tell him that he was wrong, but perhaps Luce was unique among demons. He'd certainly been unusual enough to win her heart. "Call me an optimist, for I'll never lose hope," she murmured.

  "Didn't you read the sign over the door? Hope deserts everyone here eventually," Merihim said.

  Mel kept her smile soft. "Yet you hoped I'd win against Kas. You even bet money on the outcome."

  Merihim coughed. "That's different. I've seen you win every gamble you take – when it's not for personal gain. Where did you learn to play poker?"

  "France," Mel answered. When Merihim looked puzzled, she explained, "Poker was played in France before it arrived in New Orleans in America. Most people don't know that Napoleon's Russian retreat was because he lost a game of poker."

  "I never heard that!" Merihim protested.

  Mel smiled. "He had such an expressive face – he was terrible at bluffing. Given how well I knew him, I could read his hand simply from his expression."

  Merihim's face registered his shock and Mel didn't wait for him to recover. "The gate?" she prompted. "I really need to see Luce."

  Merihim heaved a huge sigh, shaking his head. "I hope you know what you're doing. Lord Lucifer is...well, he's in one of the darkest moods I've seen him in for centuries. You'd be better off going back to the surface. I'll give you a lift home, if you want."

  "I must," Mel insisted. "I won't leave until I've se
en him. Please open the gate."

  Merihim coughed. "Actually, you have to be born an angel to do it. Just touch it – and it'll swing open. It works for us fallen angels, too, luckily, or we'd all be stuck on one side or the other. Not many angels make it this far without falling." He still looked regretful, Mel thought. "I don't want to see you fall. Even if you make it to Lucifer's lair, he'll do everything in his power to turn you, because he's a sadistic bastard. You don't deserve our fate, Mel. Turn back."

  Mel placed both of her palms on the gates and they swung open, as if tonnes of stone were merely paper. She heard moans and screams from the depths below. She turned her head toward Merihim. "I can't turn back. Thank you for your help." She pulled his shirt over her head and handed it to him, before kissing his cheek.

  Merihim took the shirt, stunned. "Any time, Mel. Mo and me...we owe you more than ever, now. Kas, too – I'll remind him that you gave him a chance to repent, when he wakes up and his arms grow back." He squinted at Asmodeus in the darkness. "Maybe before his arms grow back. I don't want him taking a swing at me, too." He blushed as he looked at Mel. "Lucifer will probably like what he sees, especially when he can see everything. I hope you reach him. Take care, Mel."

  Mel smiled, waved, and stepped through the gates to the lower levels of Hell.

  I'm coming for you, Luce, she thought, wishing he could hear her. Walking naked through Hell, just like you said in that café. I never thought it would be me doing it, though.

  She stretched her wings and started her descent.

  Thirty-Five

  Touching down on the first stone terrace, Mel was greeted by the grumpy receptionist she'd first met at her interview for the HELL Corporation. The girl had lost her clothes and gained a pair of dark, leathery wings, marking her as one of the Dirae, but Mel hadn't forgotten her frowning face.

  "What do you want?" the girl asked, evidently appraising Mel's much larger wings.

  Mel smiled and let her white wings fade from sight, wishing she had a way to wash some of the mud off the rest of her. "I'm looking for Lucifer. Do you have a switchboard, so you can call and tell him I'm here?"

  The girl gave her a look of deep disgust. "No. Why would you...ohhh. You're that angel who wanted a job in the office up on the surface." She managed a nasty smile. "You come to try whoring yourself to Lord Lucifer for another chance? He has all the office whores he needs and the rest are all better looking than you. Maybe he'll find space for you with the harpies on Level Seven. Sometimes they run out of damned souls and they always need practice dummies."

  Mel's smile didn't falter, though she wished she could increase the distance between herself and this nasty piece of work. Were all the demons in the lower levels as rude as this? Those in the upper levels had seemed so reasonable.

  Mel cleared her throat. "I worked a long contract with the HELL Corporation on the surface. The work was very rewarding – fascinating, in fact. Now I've come to see Luce and I must admit, it's been interesting to see how he runs things in the Pit. What are those?" Mel nodded at several pits placed at regular intervals around the terrace – almost like open graves.

  "Those?" The girl's grin became nastier still. "Part of the heating system for Level Seven. Want a closer look?" She gave Mel a shove toward the nearest one.

  Sparks showered to the stone from where the girl had touched Mel, leaving scorch marks on her skin and the echo of the initial, painful burn. Mel found herself on her knees, but she rose as soon as the pain started to fade. A fading flash was all it was. Hardly enough to incapacitate an angel. The Dirae girl had disappeared.

  Mel looked around. Perhaps the girl had fallen into one of the pits. She glanced into the nearest and saw what appeared to be a human figure, encased in flame as it lay on...was that molten rock? Pipes ran along the sides of the trench, with no markings to say what they contained. That meant they were filled with air or water, Mel knew. With a single thought, she split one of the pipes open. Water cascaded down the walls, rising as steam from the rock below. The pit began filling faster than the heat could evaporate it.

  The extinguished but blackened figure disappeared in the cloud of steam, surfacing as the pit started to resemble a hot bath. "Thank you," a hoarse voice said. "They say I committed heresy, but I don't even know what religion they were from." As it rose from the warm water, Mel became aware that the burned heretic was most definitely male. "Oh, wait. They were Romans. I wouldn't give my wife to the slaves during the Saturnalia. Heresy, they called it. Unholy. Ha. My grandsire was a rabbi in Hieroselyma. Now he knew holy. Those crazy Romans..." His voice failed him at this point, to Mel's relief. She'd heard enough to know that this was a very strange level of Hell.

  "Please, I was looking for the...girl responsible for this place," Mel said. "One of the Dirae, but I didn't catch her name. I think she might have fallen into one of these pits, but there are so many..."

  He cleared his throat, coughed, then repeated the procedure. "Did you ask her name?"

  Mel shook her head.

  "Did you ever do anything to piss her off?"

  "No, I met her on the surface, in an office. She was supposed to be helpful, but she seemed to begrudge even a moment of time to do her job and notify someone I was there to see..."

  "Megaera, then. Alecto won't tell you her name and Tisiphone will fool you into thinking she's an angel until you cross her and then she'll rip you apart. Must've been Meg. She deserved a turn, burning in the pits." The man grinned with grim satisfaction. "She'll hurt for a bit, but she'll be fine again by morning. We always are, ready to be tortured all over again."

  It was the second time she'd heard about the regeneration powers of Hell. Everything automatically healed by morning. So whatever was causing this silence from Luce should have healed by now, surely. How long had she been here? More than a day? Two? So hard to keep track of time when there was no daylight. She needed to find Luce. Find out why she couldn't even sense his soul.

  Still, she could hardly leave the girl to burn. She had to help her first.

  Mel ran along the line of pits, calling, "Meg. Megaera. Please, tell me where you are so I can help you out!"

  The voice she heard was gravelly. "Bitch." It came from four pits down – she'd flown more than ten metres.

  Mel increased her pace, splitting the pipes in all the pits open as she passed.

  The dripping Dirae hauled herself out and glared at Mel. "I bet you did that on purpose." She ignored Mel's outstretched hand, clambering to her feet on her own. "Big joke from the bloody angel. I hope Lord Lucifer fucks you with his fork, if you even make it that far. Level Seven will just lap you up, I'm sure. A bit of fresh blood never hurt anybody...oh, except the angel shedding it, of course." Megaera pointed. "On to Level Seven and good riddance."

  Mel tried to smile in the face of such malice. "Thank you."

  As she left the girl behind, she heard the words, "With the pointy end, bitch."

  Well, it was Hell. There had to be horrible people in it. Otherwise, why would the place exist at all? The shadows in the tunnel descending to Level Seven seemed darker than those above, but Mel assured herself she was just imagining it.

  Thirty-Six

  The smell hit her first. The stench of old blood wafted up the tunnel, like the time Mel's neighbour had applied blood and bone fertiliser to her garden on a hot summer's day. Or the carnage at the Battle of Arausio, all over again. She wondered if the army commanders who led that slaughter were here among the damned. It seemed fitting for such mass murderers to bathe in a boiling river of blood just like the one before her.

  She couldn't tell one struggling figure apart from the others – they all seemed to be submerged in the gruesome ooze.

  "You're far from home, angel. Want a ride somewhere?"

  Mel tore her eyes from the river. She hadn't seen a centaur in years, and this one was leering at her. Combing her memory, she found his name – Nessos, the ferryman who liked to rape his female passengers. "No, thank you. D
irections to Lucifer's lair are all that I ask."

  "Lord Lucifer?" Nessos scoffed. "He can't fill you like I can. Even humans know that – they say a well-endowed man is hung like a horse, not like Lucifer. If you're looking for some action, demon style, you won't find a rougher rider than me. I can make you scream, angel, so they'll hear you in Heaven."

  Mel managed a polite smile. "Tempting, I'm sure, but I need to speak to Lucifer. I take it I'll have to cross the river?"

  "And the bank on the other side. You do like it rough, then, if you're headed into the harpies' territory." Nessos stared at her, seemingly impressed. "You're braver than me. I'll just fuck you – those girls will fuck you up."

  Struggling not to show her disgust, Mel forced herself to maintain her strained smile as she flapped her wings, trying to rapidly rise above the depraved centaur.

  Her shadow darkened the river's sluggish surface, but it seemed to gather density as it lost form. It looked like a dark cloud beneath her, keeping pace with her progress as she trudged deeper into Hell for Luce.

  Luce.

  Mel reached out for his soul, straining for a sense of him that she couldn't grasp. He seemed so distant she couldn’t feel him at all. Had he left Hell while she struggled to make it through to him? That would be the ultimate irony – if he'd left Hell to look for her. Surely Michael and Peter would tell him where she was – even Raphael, for Michael must have told him everything by now. If she reached Luce's lair before he returned, she was claiming his throne while she waited or, better yet, his bed. She couldn't recall ever being so weary on Earth. She longed for rest – but she couldn't stop yet. Luce needed her – that much she knew.

  She touched down on the rocky ledge that hung over the river – too high for those poor, drowning souls to grasp, but just high enough for a centaur to poke his spear at anyone who made the attempt.

  "I said no! The harpies don't need any more assistants. Only volunteers to be victims and Jez said she doesn't want to see your arse again. Get down!" Chiron the centaur jabbed at a gory figure, who subsided into the red river. "You should fly right back where you came from," Chiron said, leaning on the spear as he squinted at Mel. "There's nothing but pain if you go any further."