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Hell's Calling

Page 2

by Bea Paige


  Shaken but not scared, I make my way to the door of the pub. Now that I am closer I can hear life beyond the closed doors. With one last look over my shoulder, I push open the door and step inside.

  Chapter 2

  Darkness greets me, slowly giving way to dim light and heavy clouds of smoke. Have these people not heard of the smoking ban yet? I stifle a cough and make my way further into the room, past men and women hugging their glasses or hugging each other. I don't have much experience with pubs; I don't have the money to go drinking. But somehow, I doubt that all pubs come with this much indecency.

  A large man steps into my way and I almost bump into his wide belly. I assume he's just a drunken patron and turn to walk around him, but he suddenly grips my arms and holds me in place.

  "Don't touch me," I hiss, fighting against his grip. He doesn't budge, so I do what every self-respecting girl would: I knee him in the balls. Finally, he lets go of me, clutching his crotch, and I step around him, hoping he won't follow me.

  "Good hit, miss," another man whispers from my side, his smelly breath hitting my nostrils. "Want to do the same to me? I like a bit of pain."

  I shudder in disgust and hurry towards the bar. It's just as dark and run-down as the rest of this place, but at least it seems safer than staying in the middle of the room.

  "Yeaaah?" a woman drawls in a deep, almost masculine voice. It takes me a moment to notice that she's the bartender and that she's talking to me.

  Shit, I don't have any money.

  "I'm looking for someone," I begin, not quite sure how to spin this. I can't really ask her for 'the light', can I. Now that I'm here, this seems like a terrible idea. Maybe Noella was just talking nonsense.

  "Aren't we all," the woman grins, exposing some very yellow teeth. "Now, what do ya want to drink?"

  "Give her a pint on me," a man next to me says. I look up at him, having to crane my neck because he's incredibly tall. Seven foot at least, I'd say, or even more. His shaggy beard hides half of his face, but seeing his cold eyes is enough to show me that I really don't want anything to do with him.

  "No thanks," I say quickly before the bartender can make me that drink. "I'm meeting someone."

  "Am I not good enough for ya?" the man growls and puts an arm around my shoulders.

  Enough is enough. I elbow him in the chest and run for it, out of the pub and into the night, ignoring the jeering drunkards who I've just provided the evening's entertainment for.

  I stop just outside the pub and breathe in deep. The cool air helps to clear my mind a little, and my lungs are in sore need of oxygen after all the smoke inside.

  What am I going to do now? That place really doesn't look like I'd find any answers in there. If any of the patrons have ever had any dealings with Luke, they would have been working for him, not against him.

  'The light within the Dark Woods'. She definitely said within, didn't she. That would mean inside that pub. I sigh. There seems no way around another trip inside. Maybe I'm too early, maybe there will be other people there in a few hours.

  I look up and down the street. Everything is quiet, the pub is the only source of noise. How do people sleep here knowing that these unsavoury characters are drinking next door? I really wouldn't want to live here, and that says a lot coming from someone currently calling a shelter her home.

  I decide to walk around the pub, maybe there's a bench somewhere that I can sit on while waiting. I really don't want to stand here close to the entrance where people like the aggressive men inside will pass.

  There's a simple iron gate to my right, looking like it may lead to a garden. It's unlocked and I take that as a sign to enter. The alleyway is dark and grimy, just like the rest of this area, but I still have hope that there may be a safer spot around the corner.

  Just like I thought, there's a garden at the back of the pub, but it's just as desolate and dead as the trees in the street. Only gravel covers the ground, not a single leaf or blade of grass. The tree in the far corner looks like a dark skeleton against the night sky, it's whitish bark glowing ominously. No, this doesn't seem like a safe place at all.

  I'm about to head back when a light suddenly appears at the other end of garden. There's a shed that I didn't see before, but now that someone has switched on the light inside, it's clearly visible. It's quite big, more than just a shed to store your tools, almost a small house.

  Something makes me walk towards it; maybe it's curiosity, maybe more.

  There are two windows, one on either side of the small wooden door. The left one is hidden behind old-fashioned shutters, so I sneak towards the one on the right, careful to stay in the shadows.

  The light inside flickers as if it's candlelight rather than a lamp. Maybe there's no electricity in the shed?

  I take off my backpack and pull out my knife and its sheath. The sheath is nothing more than several pairs of socks sewn together and attached to a belt, but it works. I wrap it around my waist, just to be sure. Who knows what awaits me here. I didn’t want to have the knife out in the open when I was exploring the pub, but now I’m on my own in the darkness and things have changed.

  I crouch when I reach the window, keeping my head below the sill. Why am I even doing this, sneaking around like a criminal. I have no business being here, and I'm supposed to explore the pub, not the outbuildings.

  "You can come in," a hoarse voice suddenly says above me at the same time as the window opens with a creak.

  I jump back in surprise and fall flat on my arse, the gravel poking uncomfortably through my jeans. Now would be a good time to run and pretend that I wasn’t here. Whoever lives in the backyard of this dingy pub can’t be a good person to meet in the dark.

  But then I look up and straight into his eyes… They are golden. Not light brown, not amber, but pure gold, with a thin circle of silver lining his light pupils. Not even those are the right colours, they’re far too bright.

  Before I even look at the rest of the man’s face, I’m convinced that he isn’t human.

  A few months ago, this would have shocked me, but I’ve been hanging out with Luke and his crowd for long enough to figure out that humans aren’t alone in this world. I’ve never had the chance or the confidence to ask what they all are, but their supernatural strength is enough to tell me that they aren’t like me. Luke of course is the devil, Lucifer, although he hates being called that name. The only thing that gives away his non-humanity are his red-rimmed eyes, but it’s not the same for the man in front of him.

  His entire skin is glowing. Without the golden glow, he’d probably be pale, but the shine hides his true skin colour and any impurities there might be. His lips are curved in a small smile, his white teeth the only non-golden part of him. How does he walk around town looking like this? No wonder he’s hiding in a shed in the worst part of town where outcasts and misfits blend in. Not that he’d ever blend in.

  I’m so mesmerised by his eyes and his glow that it takes me a moment to notice that he’s talking to me.

  “Do you enjoy sitting on the floor?”

  He grins, flashing his sparkling white teeth at me.

  “No? Then you better come in.”

  He leans out of the window, reaching out for me with one hand.

  Last chance to run, Ciera, a voice in my head tells me, but I ignore it. I’m not going to run if this might be a chance to save my sister.

  I take his hand, expecting him to pull me up so I can walk through the door, but he has other ideas. One second I’m outside in the backyard, the next, I’m flying through the window head-first before landing against his chest. He’s warm, I can feel his heat even through my clothes. His chest is hard with muscle, but not uncomfortable.

  What the fuck? Did he just pull me through a window with enough force to prevent me from crashing against the window frame? And why am I still in his arms?

  I hastily step back, ignoring how cold I suddenly feel, bereft of his warmth.

  “Who are you?” I ask hasti
ly, both to break the silence and to feel a little less awkward.

  “They call me Maro,” he says in a soft but deep voice.

  “And what do you call yourself?”

  “Maro.” He chuckles. “Are you one of those people who take everything literally?”

  I shrug. “Occasionally. What are you doing here?”

  His grin grows wider. “You sneak around my house and then ask me what I’m doing here?”

  I’m grasping for a snarky answer but my mind is going blank. His glow is too much, I can’t focus. How can I think when I’m looking at the most gorgeous and unusual man I’ve ever seen?

  I decide not to look at him again, instead, I inspect the rough wooden floor.

  “I’m looking for someone,” I say, determinedly not lifting my gaze. “Or something, maybe. Ehm…” I take a deep breath. “Do you know someone called Luke?”

  Suddenly, I’m slammed against the wall behind me, something sharp pressing against my throat. Maro’s face is inches away from my own, his eyes suddenly burning with molten gold. He’s no longer smiling at me.

  “Do you work for him?” he growls, the softness in his voice gone.

  I try and look down to see what he’s holding against my throat, but I’m scared he might cut me if I move too much.

  “No,” I reply steadily, hoping he won’t spot the lie. It’s not like I’m working for Luke voluntarily. Signing the contract with him was the only way for me and my sister to survive. It got us a permanent place in the shelter, food and enough money to occasionally buy some clothes or other necessary things for Tris. He even threw in a bus pass so I could get to my assignments without having to walk through the entire city.

  “Interesting,” he mutters, still not letting me go. “You’re lying but you’re not. Explain.”

  To emphasise his command, the pain on my throat increases. I’m breathing shallowly now, trying not to move my neck.

  “It’s not by choice,” I reply through clenched teeth. “Let me go and I’ll tell you.”

  His eyes stay fixed on mine, burning into my mind. The intensity of his gaze is making me dizzy, but I can’t even seem to blink, let alone close my eyes.

  Finally, he seems satisfied and steps back, releasing me, and I get to see what was pressed against my throat.

  Fuck.

  He’s got bloody wings.

  Chapter 3

  “What the hell are those?” I say pointing to what are very clearly a pair of white, sodding wings.

  “I would have thought that was pretty obvious. Perhaps you’re a little dazed by my good looks?” He smirks, folding his arms across his chest.

  “Ha, not likely,” I retort. Arrogant as well as good looking then. That’s the worst kind of combination, in my opinion.

  Maro laughs, the fierceness gone as quickly as it had appeared. I watch as the offending wings fold neatly away behind his back. At the bottom of one wing, I notice a drop of blood slide down the edge of a feather and fall to the wooden floor. Lifting my fingers to my neck, a warm wetness slides over my skin. Pulling my hand away I see my own blood glistening in the light, his light, I might add. He’s like a bloody lightbulb.

  “You cut me!”

  He glances at my fingers, then at my neck and shrugs. “It’s not a very deep cut. I just needed to check if your blood runs pure. Or, at least as pure as it can be under the circumstances. ”

  “What? Why?”

  “You work for Lucifer.”

  “I don’t work for him. I just …”

  “You just what?” He narrows his eyes at me, the brilliant gold of them sparking like fireflies in the night. “Don’t tell me, you sold your soul for more riches than you can imagine.”

  “I…”

  “No, wait. I know, you sold your soul for everlasting beauty!” he scoffs, stalking towards me again. I am forced back against the wall once more as he rests the palms of his hands on either side of my head, and damn it if my heart doesn’t just about beat out of my chest.

  “That’s not what…” I protest, but he lifts his finger and presses it against my lips. Leaning down, his golden hair falling forward over his eyes, Maro studies me close up.

  “Ivory skin, check. White-blonde hair, check. A lithe, but shapely body, check. Pretty blue eyes, no, wait,” he says, tipping his head to the side, his eyebrows pulling together in concentration. “Grey, with a hint of steel.”

  “Gold, with a hint of fire,” I murmur back.

  For a moment we stare at each other, caught in some kind of invisible pull. If my heart was galloping before, it’s thundering now. Frankly, I am not even sure I can remain upright, given my knees have decided to go weak on me. Then the sound of laughter coming from the pub pulls me out from under his spell and I remember why I came here.

  “Tris!”

  Maro steps back and gives his head a shake as though he too was just as mesmerised as I was.

  “I didn’t sell my soul for money, or beauty. I sold it for my sister, for Tris. To keep a roof over her head, food in her belly, a warm bed at night. I did it to keep her safe.” I laugh bitterly, dragging the sleeve of my jumper against my neck. “Fat lot of good it did her. Tris is far from safe, now he has her.”

  Maro’s eyes widen. “Lucifer has your sister?”

  “Yes, that bastard sent one of his goons for me but he took my three-year-old sister instead and now I intend to get her back.”

  Maro sighs. “And how do you propose on doing that? You do realise who you’re up against, don’t you? This isn’t one of the motley bunch in the Dark Woods behind us,” he says jerking a finger over his shoulder. “This is the Devil we’re talking about. D.E.V.I.L.”

  “I know how to spell, and I know who I’m dealing with perfectly well, thank you very much.”

  “You may think you know who you’re dealing with, but you’ve no real idea. You’re better off forgetting about her.”

  “Forget my sister?!” I screech. This time it is me stalking him. Within two strides I am across the room and jabbing my finger into his chest. Rage takes over my mouth now, despite common sense urging me not to be so foolish. He’s at least a foot taller than me and as wide as a door, but it doesn’t stop the words running from my mouth.

  “Don’t you dare tell me to forget about her. She’s my sister and I have protected Tris her whole life. I’m not about to walk away from her now. I won’t. I don’t care what it costs me.”

  “You’d be a fool to even attempt to find your sister, least of all try and steal her from him. It’s impossible. I’m sorry,” he adds gently.

  By now I am shaking in earnest, a mixture of rage and anguish running through my veins. I have to grit my teeth to stop them from chattering. “I’m not going to steal Tris, I am going to exchange my soul for hers. It was my soul he wanted so we could have a roof over our heads and safety for Tris. That was the bargain I made, this has nothing to do with her. She’s just a child.”

  Maro places his large hand over mine, stilling my fingers that are still persistently jabbing into his chest.

  “She will already be in the depths of Hell, Ciera.”

  Ciera? I’m pretty sure I’ve not mentioned my name.

  “How do you know my name? You told me yours, but I never told you mine.”

  “Think of it as a gift,” Maro responds with a shrug. His nonchalance is beginning to get on my nerves.

  “Look, as interesting as this is,” I say glancing at my hand still enclosed in his. “I haven’t come here for small talk. I have come to save my sister. This chit-chat is just a waste of my time. The longer I spend here with you, the further away she will be.”

  “Even if you manage to find her, there is no getting out once you’ve descended.” His thumb runs over my knuckles as he give me a look of pity.

  “I told you, I don’t want out. I just want to set Tris free.”

  “And what makes you think Lucifer will allow that? What’s stopping him from just keeping you both? What you’re talking of,
it’s impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible,” I retort, yanking my hand free. I clutch my hand to my chest as though he’s hurt me when really his touch had made me think thoughts that would do me no good if I’m to save my sister. My eyes flick to a single bed in the corner of the room, the cover pulled back and the mattress indented from his weight. It’s been a while since I’d slept with a man, three years to be precise. I snap my head back around. Stop it, Ciera.

  “I came to find the light. I’m wasting time talking with you. If you can’t tell me where it is, then get out of my way so I can keep searching.” I step around Maro and head for the door. Whatever Noella had meant, it must be in the pub. I yank the door open, about to step outside.

  “Wait!”

  I hesitate, not turning, just waiting to see what Maro has to say.

  “You’ve already found it,” he says with a deep sigh.

  Slowly, I turn on my heel. If I thought Maro was bright before, then it’s nothing to the light he is giving off now. It’s so startling I have to shade my eyes from it.

  “I suggest you close the door, and pull down the blinds. I don’t want any of the punters from the Dark Woods catching a glimpse.”

  Snapping out of my trance, I do as he asks.

  “You’re the light Noella was talking about?” I scoff. I’m not sure why I’m so surprised, I mean he has wings which in my book makes him an angel, even if he is an arrogant one. So, I guess being light goes with the territory.

  “Ah, Noella sent you? It makes sense now.”

  “You know her?”

  “Let’s just say we have history, and leave it at that.”

  “Whatever. So, Mr Lightbulb, how do I get into Hell?”

  A smiles twitches at the edge of his lips, presumably my nickname amuses him.

  “Well?” I press.

  Maro claps his hands twice and between us a large black hole opens up in the wooden floor. I wobble on my feet, it’s gaping mouth ready to devour me. In a flash, Maro is by my side holding onto my elbow.

 

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