Welcome to Hell Box Set: Paranormal Romantic Comedy

by Demelza Carlton

  Her spirit swelled like a supernova, enveloping the cloud and lapping the very walls of the cavern. She could feel them all and they burned. She burned with them, but it was worth the pain. A hundred times worse than the energy surge she'd felt when Merihim had first touched her; ten times worse than the burn that had defended her from Ananiel and the Dirae's attacks, but never more than she could bear. She was stronger than any dark, malicious soul that could only prey on the weak.

  "Time weakened you and so it will continue until you are no more! Do not enter my sight again." She pointed at the entrance tunnel to Level Nine and watched as a beam from her fingertip hit the wall with a splash of light. What was left of the shadows seemed like a tiny curl of smoke, rapidly eddying away from her.

  The smack of flesh on flesh reverberated through the cave, startling her. Mel heard it again before she whirled around, looking for the source.

  Luce leaned against the doorway to his lair, slowly clapping. He still held her clothes in the crook of one arm.

  Why hadn't he come to her aid, or even attempted to call off the fiendish souls? Not that she'd needed his help, but it was the principle. Hadn't he cared that she was in danger?

  Or had he lured her here, knowing what lurked in the shadows, hoping their dark malice could corrupt her when he couldn't? Was that why he'd stood back – to watch? Maybe the imps weren't the only voyeurs in this place.

  She hadn't journeyed naked through Hell to be anyone's entertainment. She'd come to save him. If he didn't want her help, she was done with him.

  "You." Luce's startled eyes met hers. "Give me back my underwear," she commanded, striding forward.

  Forty-Four

  The impenetrable barrier between him and the avenging angel didn't seem so solid any more. Luce knew he couldn't get through it – Hell, he'd tried, if only to get close enough to see what was going on – but he wasn't so sure about her. She'd just destroyed the darkest denizens of Hell in one fiery hit.

  Persephone couldn't...surely she couldn't have done that. She wasn't as strong as he was – and he was no match for those souls. Suddenly, he felt the need to go back to his desk, where he could put a block of solid timber between himself and this angel gone nova. Not daring to take his eyes off her, he backed away. It couldn't be. But if it was...

  She passed through the energy barrier as if it didn't exist – the same barrier he'd been trapped behind – and her relentless steps carried her closer to him.

  Her wings grazed the doorway, but she didn't stop to fold them back. "I've walked naked through to the very inner circle of Hell and I'll be damned before I leave empty-handed. If you're not coming with me like I thought you would, I can at the very least leave with the clothes you stole from me. You can keep the shirt if you wish, but if you're going to pretend I'm dead or call me by another woman's name, I draw the line at my underwear. I want it back."

  He stared at her, keeping a death grip on her balled-up shirt, his retreat halted by bumping into the desk. Persephone. Not Persephone. But who else had the balls to confront the Lord of Hell in his own lair?

  He tried not to laugh. It was pretty damn clear this girl didn't have any balls to speak of – but she couldn't have walked through all of Hell naked like this. She'd have to be crazy.

  "I've said it before and I'll say it one last time. Get out or I'll summon every demon in Hell to help me evict you. And they'll enjoy making the process as long and drawn-out as possible." He tried to make his voice vicious, but he could feel it shaking a little. He hoped she didn't notice his weakness.

  She stood close enough for him to see that her eyes were the same grey he knew and loved – even if the rest of her glowed gold. There was no sign of the red that flashed in Persephone's eyes when she got angry. These eyes looked like clouds threatening rain. "Luce, they're demons. Lazy as all Hell. They'll probably bring popcorn to watch the show and back the winner. Don't get me started on the gambling in this place. Do you really want an audience? I'd prefer not to hurt you or any of the demons at your disposal. Please, just give me back my clothes and I'll leave, if that's what you really want." Her voice had returned to normal and the soft tones were nothing like those of his tattooed former PA.

  Luce knew she wasn't Persephone. The nephilim didn't have sufficient self-control for this.

  He wasn't sure what he'd just witnessed. The blinding light that had lit up the whole cavern as it burned the dark spirits that had plagued him since the day he'd arrived...it must've come from her. No demon could've done it. That meant she had to be some sort of angel – but angels couldn't lie. And this one had just said she'd walked naked through Hell.

  She couldn't be. But if she was, she'd be furious at him even if he wasn't withholding her underwear.

  One more step and her radiance would start burning him, just as it had those incorporeal dark souls. He'd had enough pain for several lifetimes and he couldn't take any more now. The sadness in her eyes hurt like Hell already.

  He swallowed. "The lace on the bra is ripped," he admitted.

  "It doesn't surprise me. Your fork's sharp," Mel said, her eyes straying to the bident in the umbrella stand. "Doesn't matter. It's the principle. You don't want me, you don't get to keep my underwear, Luce." She smiled sorrowfully at him.

  Oh Hell – Mel had walked through Hell naked, from the front gate to his lair. For him. And then he'd made a right mess of things. Again.

  A tear escaped his control, tracking down his cheek. He swiped a hand across his face, wishing he could hide it. "Mel?" he whispered.

  Forty-Five

  "That's me. Now, are you going to give me my clothes back or not?" Mel's smile was pure summer sunshine as it spread across her face: fierce, but still warm. Yet her light seemed to fade and she wrapped her arms across her chest as if she was cold.

  Luce shrugged out of his suit jacket, ripping off his tie, before he started unbuttoning his shirt. He paused to grab the air conditioning remote to turn the fan down. "You must be freezing," he said. "Your shirt's torn. I'm sorry. Take mine." One of his cufflinks tinkled to the floor. He bent to pick it up as Mel moved forward.

  He could feel how close she was – her foot landed beside his fingers as he scrabbled at the stone for the cufflink. He wasn't looking at the metal any more. His mind was full of perfect skin, curved over a beautiful body. The smudges of dirt and splashes of mud made no difference – if anything, they only made her more real. This was Mel, the angel he'd loved and thought he'd lost. His own body ached for hers. He dragged his eyes unwillingly to her face, letting her see his damned soul. "What if I do want you?" Luce murmured, leaving her in no doubt that he was telling the truth. He couldn't lie to her if he tried. "I know I've damned myself for eternity by killing you, but I still love you. If I could go back and change what I did, I would."

  Mel smiled. "You only damaged the body I'd built. As you said, it had scars, imperfections. It took time to build a replacement. When I returned, you'd left without me. With my clothes. You should have waited – I wanted to show you Heaven." The wicked look in her eyes was far from angelic...and yet, it was.

  Luce shook his head. "I'm damned for what I did. I can never leave here."

  "You can and you will – I'll escort your soul through the gates myself, without wasting any time. I won't stay here, Luce. Too dark and depressing for me," Mel replied.

  He wanted to believe her. Angels didn't lie. But she didn’t know what he'd done while she was gone. And he wasn't willing to tell her. Right now, he just wanted to make the most of the little time he had with her, for once she found out...she'd leave without him.

  "Right away? I'd have to make some arrangements here before I could just up and leave. I'm still responsible for this place, Mel – I've signed everything I could over to Persephone, but Hell is still my charge..." Luce stared at her longingly, wanting nothing more than to grab her and leave. To Hell with his responsibilities for this damned place. The demons knew what they were doing – they didn't need him to ov
ersee them all the time.

  Mel seemed to understand his longing. "It's all right, Luce. You deal with what you have to. I could probably do with a rest. I'd love a shower, but that'll have to wait 'til I get home, I guess." She looked around the bare cave, searching for something she evidently couldn’t see.

  Luce smiled. Here was one surprise he could offer her. "Have you never heard of Hell's bathroom?"

  Mel started to laugh. "No, Luce. Hell's kitchen, yes, but your realm isn't known for its plumbing – or any water supply at all. None of the rivers here looked particularly clean. Even the air conditioning took me by surprise. What's Hell's bathroom? Some sort of sulphurous spring, a shared latrine for all the demons in the many levels of Hell? I'm sure the description will be enough for me – I don't need to smell it. I smell bad enough as it is."

  "Let me show you. I swear you'll have it all to yourself. I don't share my personal apartment with just anyone," Luce said, leading the way to the wall. He rounded a corner and opened a door, set snugly into the stone. Mel laughed as she followed him through.

  "I'll never get used to some of the modern things you have here. Doors in a cave?"

  He shrugged. "I didn't want the air conditioning in the office to mess with the humidity in here."

  Luce stood aside to see Mel's reaction as she entered. This cave was a smaller cousin of the curtain-and-column castle cave above in one of the upper levels, but this was his alone. He'd even arranged lighting so that it looked its best. He flicked the switch, letting the illumination glow into life.

  Mel gasped. With her mouth still open, she turned her eyes on him. "How can you keep something this beautiful hidden in the depths of Hell?"

  He stared at her, almost hurt by her shock. "What? Just because I've spent millennia running the darkest pit of punishment for the damned, with armies of demons and devils at my command, doesn't mean I don't like beautiful things. You saw the view from my penthouse. I wanted to preserve it, just for me. Not everything in my life has to be all darkness and despair."

  She looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Luce. I know you're more than the man in charge of Hell. I just never thought to find such beauty deep beneath so much...horrible..." She shuddered.

  Luce tried to smile. "What better place to hide something beautiful? It's yours for as long as you need it. I'll be in the office, trying to get everything sorted so we can leave as soon as possible." He waved his hand and let a pile of towels appear. "Sorry, the colour scheme is a bit limited here." He concentrated hard on the stack and managed to lighten it from black to burgundy. "Will that be okay? Let me know if you need anything else."

  "I'll be fine. Thank you, Luce," Mel murmured. She stepped forward to trail her toes through the water. "It's warm!"

  "Geothermal," Luce replied. He looked longingly at her as she submerged into the pool, wading toward the trickling cascade. "I wish I could join you."

  "I'll wait for you," she promised, closing her eyes as the water streamed over her head. A streak of gold showed through the dusty grey smothering her hair.

  He hurried back to the office. He wanted to get the Hell out of here as quickly as possible – but not before he'd enjoyed a long, hot bath with Mel.

  Forty-Six

  Luce buttoned and tucked his shirt in, knotting his tie as quickly as he could. He shrugged back into his jacket and picked up the air conditioning remote. He'd used the air conditioner for so long to remind him to keep his cool, but today he didn't need it. He felt like nothing could break his good mood. Mel was alive and in the next room; and when she left, she wanted to take him with her.

  He dropped the remote on the desk just as Asmodeus and Merihim appeared before him. Actually, he'd summoned three demons, not two...where was Kasyade?

  He concentrated and Kasyade appeared behind the other two. He immediately tried to put as much distance between him and the two of them as he could.

  "What happened to you?" Luce asked Kasyade. He'd rarely seen such injuries on a man who wasn't a professional fighter.

  Kasyade tenderly patted both his black eyes and grimaced, revealing the gaps where he'd had teeth the last time Luce looked. "I met with an accident. There was an angel, you see, and..."

  "Mel didn't do it!" Merihim burst out. "I blacked his eyes. Mo here broke a couple of his ribs. Should've ripped his arms off again, like he did yesterday, so he couldn't try to cheat us at poker any more. We were trying to help her. We offered her a drink, a rest, a game...tried to get her to turn around and leave. She wouldn't do it – insisted that she had to see you. So she showed us how Kas was cheating and headed through the gates of Dis into the lower levels. We told her how to open the gate. Did she make it through safely?" He looked genuinely concerned.

  Luce nodded once. "She did."

  "Don't hurt her!" Asmodeus said, sounding as worried as Merihim. "She...she saved me from that harpy in HR. Mel's not like other angels. We don't want her to fall like we did. She's too nice. She should stay the way she is."

  "You're both attempting to tell the Lord of Hell what he should do with an angel who managed to penetrate the lowest circle of Hell, wreaking havoc on every level on her way in?" Luce kept his voice very quiet as he looked from Asmodeus to Merihim, before glancing at Kasyade. "What about you? Do you presume to give me orders, too?"

  The other two glared as Kasyade and he seemed to visibly shrink, to Luce's amusement. How had he lived without Mel making everything different, by her sheer presence? She could even make a simple disciplinary meeting hilarious – not that he could let on. He was the stern Lord of Hell, after all.

  "She gave me a chance to pay for cheating, without telling anyone what I'd done. I didn't listen. I didn't believe she could beat me at poker – she barely knew the rules!"

  Luce thought of Mel's angelic smile, which hid more secrets than the whole of Hell. "I think Mel might be the best natural poker player this world has ever seen. I wouldn't play her unless I wanted to lose."

  Kasyade grunted. "You got that right. I turned her down, she won the game, and those two beat the shit out of me and took all their money back. It was like she knew...but she wanted to save me. She acted as if I was an angel, like her. I've never met an angel like her before. It'd be sad to lose her." He shuffled his feet on the limestone, looking anywhere but at Luce.

  Luce found it even harder not to laugh. How had Mel managed to charm these three demons? She'd bewitched them to the point where they'd neglected to tell him there was an angel loose in Hell – an angel who'd gotten past the gate all three of them were guarding.

  He had to somehow discipline these three to maintain his authority, but for the first time, he was lost. Mel would know what to do, but he'd promised not to disturb her until he was ready to join her. Besides, what would she think of him if it looked like he couldn't control his own realm?

  "I'm sending you back up to Persephone. You can be part of the new Children and Family Protection unit Lili's putting together for the latest contract." Luce glared at the three of them. "A month up there should do it."

  He dismissed them.

  Had he been too lenient? Luce wondered. He could have given them sword practice on Level Eight, but they were used to that. Office work and taking care of feral children would do instead.

  "Next!" he called.

  Forty-Seven

  Luce dismissed the last of them, wondering just how many demons Mel had met on her journey through Hell...or did she know all of them from the office? There sure seemed to be a Hell of a lot of them – and they all liked her, or owed her a favour, or both. Every senior demon knew her and had something to say.

  "Don't turn her..."

  "Don't press her too hard..."

  "Don't hurt her..."

  "Please don't change her in any way..."

  "Don't be too hard on her..."

  Luce's personal favourite was Ploutos' poignant plea:

  "But I NEED her to make more viral cat videos! Cats from Hell wouldn't be an internet sensation if
it weren't for Mel and her ping pong balls...it was like Priscilla: Queen of the Desert but with cats!"

  Some of them even looked like they harboured romantic hopes for her, though they knew an angel would never consider pairing up with a demon.

  Well, until Mel had chosen him, but Luce wasn't sure what he was anymore. A demon, an angel, some fallen hybrid between the two... If she'd have him, he didn't particularly care what he was, as long as it was good enough for Mel.

  He hung his jacket over his chair, then loosened his tie and took it off. The shirt was next – he shrugged out of it and left it on the desk. She'd liked his wings before and he wanted them out for her. He looked at his pants. On or off? Would he look too eager if he walked in there buck naked, or would she think he wasn't interested if he still wore his pants?

  He slowly unbuckled his belt and left it on the desk. He decided to keep the pants on – at least until he got into the bathroom. Then he'd leave all decisions up to Mel. She definitely deserved to call the shots.

  He paused at the closed door, knocking lightly. "Mel?" he called. "I've finished with the last meeting for the moment. If you still want me to join you, I can come in now." He waited, but heard no reply. Perhaps she was deep in the pool, or under the waterfall. He opened the door and stepped cautiously inside.

  The pool was still, marked only by the slight ripples as the cascade in the corner added to the water. Mel wasn't in the water at all – he could see to the bottom of the clear, deep pool. He scanned the room for her, his heart tightening in his chest. He couldn't lose her again.

  The sound of something soft moving across stone caught his attention and it took him a moment to work out what the unusual rock formation was. Mel had wrapped herself in a towel, pillowing her head and body on a few more, and fallen asleep on the floor. The formerly red flannel was now the colour of butter, blending in with the limestone floor, so that he'd barely seen her until she moved in her sleep. She'd been bleaching his towels with her radiance, just like she'd done with his precious red handkerchief.