Hell on Earth 1 - Hell's Belles

by Jackie Kessler

  "Why'd you get to keep your job?"

  He thrusted deep and hard, and for a moment I saw stars. Smiling, he said, "Because I'm one of the best, and King Asmodai knows it."

  I moved with him, fretting too much to take (prolonged) pleasure from our sweat. Around us, the walls of the District vibrated with passion and the air was thick with the sounds and smells of sex. With all female Seducers reassigned, Pandemonium had temporarily become one huge orgy. Going out with a bang, and all that.

  "I can't believe that the Queen herself got bumped," I said.

  Daun's self-congratulatory smile stretched into a shit-eating grin. "Well, if you believe the stories, the Almighty never did favor her. You don't kick your favorites out of Eden on a whim. I can't expect the Archangel to feel any differently."

  Just thinking about Michael, I bared my fangs. "That rat bastard replaced us with fucking angels! What does an angel know about seduction?"

  "Don't know. What does an Archangel know about Hell?"

  I stopped bumping and grinding. "What do you think's going to happen now?"

  Daun nibbled my ear. "Starting in about three hours, you'll be a Nightmare, and I'll continue plying my trade and enticing mortal women into saying my name. But until then, let's you and me get more sweaty."

  "You may have to twist my arm."

  Winking, he said, "Turn of phrase? Or do you want me to go de Sade on you?"

  "Surprise me."

  Chapter 26

  The Lake of Fire/The Gates

  I sat in front of the Lake of Fire, holding a stick over the churning waters. Attached to the stick, a male forearm slowly crisped. Sighing as I turned the homemade spit, I watched the skin bubble and blacken, smelled the fat as it pooled and burned. I didn't have any appetite, not even for sex, but I needed to think. Making a light snack gave me the excuse to just sit and try to make sense of my roiling thoughts.

  I was trapped.

  Unless I really wanted to be a ghost, my only option in Hell was pulling this stint as a Nightmare—stint loosely defined as until Judgment Day. And while being a foul-tempered dream forever was bad, stuck as a transparent nonentity hovering around graveyards, old houses, and insane mortals was infinitely worse. Because then I'd be alone for the better chunk of eternity, barring the occasional ethereal conclave and Halloween. And the thought of being alone, fading slowly over the ages, was too much for me to bear.

  But terrifying mortals, with no other purpose but to make them scream, was so blessed pointless.

  I dunked the meat into the Lake. What was the big deal? I scared humans as a matter of course. I was a demon, after all. And mortals fear demons. So why was being a Nightmare so bad, really?

  Because I wasn't created to scare them. I was created to seduce them. That was what I thrived on, what made my toes curl in pleasure (when I had toes). But it didn't matter that I had thousands of years of experience under my garter belt. The Archangel called us soft, had replaced us without a second thought.

  Closing my eyes, I heard the man's shrieks echo as my chest erupted in blood.

  I hated my Afterlife.

  "Hey, girl."

  "Heya, sweetie." My voice came out like a sigh.

  Megaera's hand touched my shoulder. "I like the outfit."

  "Huh?" I opened my eyes in surprise, then I realized she meant my human form. I hadn't changed after I'd terrified the man with the lovely eyes. "Oh. It's from my last assignment."

  She sat next to me, tucking her pale legs beneath her bottom. "What's wrong, Jezzie?"

  Lowering my head, I didn't answer her. It wasn't that my feelings and thoughts were so jumbled together that I couldn't make heads or tails out of them. Meg was a Fury. And one didn't tell a Fury that she was seriously considering running away.

  I felt her blue eyes boring a hole through me. We shared a connection, thanks to being friends for a millennium. Did that mean she could read my mind, my heart, without even trying?

  "Give it time, Jezebel," she said. "He needs to stretch His wings and get used to the Pit."

  "And the Pit needs to get used to Him," I said, not able to keep the bitterness from my voice.

  "Yes."

  "Where's King Lucifer now? Do you know?"

  "I do," she said. "But it's not my place to tell you."

  "He's… okay?"

  She chuckled. "The former lord and master of Hell is in a new role. Like you. And like you, He's learning to adjust. He'll be fine."

  "Oh. Good."

  I removed the spit from the Lake and stared at the charred meat. The aroma of cooked mortal did nothing for my mood. "Hungry?"

  "No, thanks."

  Heaving my arm back, I pitched the food across the Lake. It soared gracefully over the bubbling water, then landed with a hissing splash. I watched it sink beneath the fiery surface.

  "A waste, no?"

  "Lost my appetite."

  "Hmmm."

  We sat in silence, listening to the screams of humans, warming our bodies by the turbulent Lake. When Megaera finally spoke, she didn't look at me.

  "Things are in flux. He's calling for all sorts of changes. It could be that after time, you'll embrace your new role."

  "When humans fly," I muttered.

  "Humans do fly," she said. "They use marvelous machines to do so. Airplanes and helicopters and gliders and parachutes and the like. But they do fly. They just had to learn how."

  "They are creative, aren't they? Such fascinating creatures."

  "They say God made them in His own image."

  "But they also destroy."

  "True. They're easily influenced. But in the short time they have, more often than not they do something powerful with their lives, even if it's just to create new lives."

  I thought about that. And about how there were billions of mortals walking the Earth, with more joining the mortal coil with every passing day.

  I wondered how easy it would be to pick out a demon from the flesh puppets.

  "If you do it," Meg whispered, "He'll come after you."

  Clenching my jaw, I said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Maybe He comes from Above," she said as if I hadn't spoken, "but He's just as insecure as a mortal in a new role. He won't tolerate any dissension, not now. He'll put out a contract on you, force you back."

  Biting my lip, I flashed through my options. If there was a way I could really blend with the humans, hide myself from Evil… "I'm just one demon. What sort of damage could one demon do?"

  "You could inspire a revolt in the Pit. You could incite the mortals on Earth."

  Picturing myself with a pitchfork in hand, leading a stampede of angry mortals down to the Gates of Hell, I burst out laughing. "I'm not the type to inspire anything other than lascivious thoughts."

  "You'd be surprised," she said. "And you know too much to be allowed to roam free."

  "I know just as much as all the nefarious."

  "The others aren't considering what you are. The others are complaining, moping, taking out their frustration and rage on the damned. But none of them are contemplating the possibility of other options."

  I glanced at her. She gazed at me somberly, her hair flying in the updraft from the Lake. She looked like a windswept nymph, waiting to aid strangers through the forest or the water. I said, "Millions of demons, including the elite and the various Kings, and none of them have any thoughts of… questioning the new status quo?"

  "None."

  Hell, apparently, was composed of demonic sheep. Shaking my head in disgust, I turned back to the Lake.

  "We all do what we must, Jezebel." Her lips touched my ear. "Be careful," she whispered.

  I turned to face her, but she was already gone.

  Sauntering up to the Gates, my heels crunched over scattered bones. I hid my distaste by pasting a huge Farrah smile on my face. Obviously, Hell was now all about the shock and awe—in the one day that the Holy Roller had been King, the entire Third Sphere stank of refuse, and you
couldn't move without knocking over precariously balanced heaps of skeletons.

  Granted, the incoming damned were beside themselves with terror. But still, to me it smacked of overkill. I preferred the subtle approach to horror rather than the in-your-face variety. But hey, no one had asked for my opinion.

  I jiggled up to the Gateskeeper—the same Envious from the other day, oh joy—who was busy snuffling a female human. The mortal cringed against her demon captor, a creature of Avarice based on the eyes. A quick glance at her soul told me she'd been a con artist in life; based on how yellow her form was, she'd been damned good at her job.

  Seeing me, the Gateskeeper straightened. "Where does you thinks you're going?"

  "Hollywood, sweetie." I flashed my Farrah grin, jiggled my Charlie's Angel boobs. "Supposed to terrify some television bigwig. Something about reality television replacing all programming until Salvation." Shrugging, I channeled Dumb Blonde. "Got to do my research. Can't scare the poor things until I understand what scares them, right?"

  "You stink of sex," the Coveter said, his eyes gleaming. "What of it, slut? You going to sleep your way up the path of knowledge?"

  I blew the demon a kiss. "Carnal knowledge is something you'll never obtain, Greedy."

  He growled at me, and things might have gotten a bit hot. But at that moment, his mortal charge collapsed to the ground, quaking in fear. With a final snarl at me, the Coveter bent down to gather up his human. I took the opportunity to prance away, hips rolling as my long legs took me out of Hell.

  I headed for the blasted plains, which divided Hell from Limbo. Most demons preferred to leave from Pandemonium when they had to work on the mortal coil; me, I wanted as much privacy as possible.

  Jezebel, where are you?

  I ignored Queen Lillith's question and kept walking.

  You're supposed to be in Pandemonium, filing your paperwork!

  Increasing my pace, I remained silent.

  I see you, Jezebel, walking along the edge of the blasted lands. Where are you going?

  Out for a morning stroll, I told her. Then I pushed her mental probe aside and severed the connection.

  Crap. I'd hoped for a bit more time. But cutting the psychic connection between Seducers—well, former Seducers, anyway—all but announced my intention to run.

  Okay then. Time to initiate the plan of action.

  Step one: Formulate plan.

  Pursing my lips as I marched, I decided that I couldn't just blend with the humans. What I needed was really to become a human. The lower-downs wouldn't expect that. Yes, that was key: I had to become a mortal.

  Which meant I needed a witch. And I knew just the person to help me.

  Grinning, I lifted my arms and let my power wash over me, spiriting me away to Salem, Massachusetts. With the new regime, I figured there'd be some protocol involved before Hell got its act together and sent the appointed Scourge after me.

  At least, I hoped that would be the case.

  As it turned out, it gave me a three-hour head start. By the time my hunter found me, I was safely in human form, with a spiffy Shield Against Evil hanging between my breasts.

  Chapter 27

  Limbo

  "Hello, Jezebel."

  The soft, deep voice pulled me up from my river of swirling colors, and I clung onto it like a lifeline. As I rose, I felt myself becoming solid, more real. When the colors dropped away, I found myself lying on my back. I tried to move, but I couldn't feel my body.

  I didn't think that was a good sign. Then again, I was surprised I wasn't dead, so maybe it wasn't all that bad.

  "Go on. Open your eyes."

  The voice was maddeningly familiar, yet I couldn't place it. My eyelids felt heavy, crusted, and it took me a few tries before I could open them. When I finally did, all I saw was rolling gray mist, as if I were floating in a cloud. Maybe I had died after all—Roman had shot me, and I'd felt the bullet tear through my chest.

  "Am I dead?" My voice sounded strange, thin.

  "Not yet."

  My body felt heavy, as if weights lined my skin. I tried to turn my head, but I might as well have been trying to shift a mountain. "Where am I?"

  "Limbo. I wanted to talk with you. If you don't mind."

  I didn't seem to be in the position of minding anything. "Why can't I move?"

  "You're dying, Jezebel. Paul's hands are covering the hole in your chest, but your blood seeps between his fingers. Medical authorities are on the way, and will arrive momentarily. But when they do, it will be too late."

  "Oh." I hadn't even had a chance to tell Paul good-bye.

  "You're crying, Jezebel. Do you fear death that much?"

  "No." I realized I wasn't speaking with my mouth—but neither was it the psychic connection I'd had with the Seducers. Whatever this communication was, it was more intimate. "I'll accept my fate, whether it's punishment or oblivion."

  "Then why are tears falling from your eyes?"

  Imagining the feeling of Paul's large hands enveloping mine, I said, "I wish I could see Paul once more."

  "Ah."

  "Will he be okay?"

  "You're dying, Jezebel. Do you really care about what one mortal will suffer?"

  "Yes."

  "He will be devastated."

  "Oh…" My voice faded into a sob. I didn't want Paul to hurt. Had there really been a time when I wished I could kill him?

  "He doesn't understand why he was so drawn to you from the first, how you could have affected him so powerfully in just a matter of days."

  "I don't understand it, either."

  The voice seemed to smile. "Love is stronger than magic, whether mortal or infernal."

  "So Paul and I… just fell in love?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  This time, the voice clearly laughed—a rich, sonorous laugh that made me think of a soft kiss brushing my lips. "Perhaps it was to show him that he can still love, even after the death of his fiancée. Perhaps it was to show you that mortals are, indeed, worth caring for, even if you are a demon. When lust becomes love, passion burns all the brighter."

  Worth caring for. Yes. I knew it, had known it all along. Yay, me.

  "Perhaps there was no reason at all, and you both simply found each other."

  While I liked that possibility the best, I hoped for the first one. If Paul learned from our time together, then maybe he'd go on with his life, find someone new. Maybe now he'd finally put Tracy to rest, find another woman to grow old with. I hoped he did.

  I wished it could have been me.

  "Tell me, Jezebel. Are you disappointed over your friend's action?"

  "My friend?"

  "The Erinyes."

  Megaera. I remembered her kiss, her warning, the feeling of her sword's tip digging into my heart. "She let me go."

  "No, Jezebel. She fulfilled her role. She led you to kill yourself. That's what the Furies do, ever of old. They drive mortals to their deaths."

  I wanted to be angry, to defend my friend. But all I felt was sadness, and a bone-weary exhaustion. "She didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do."

  "She led you to your death. Are you saying you wanted to die?"

  "No. I wasn't thinking about me. I just couldn't let Roman hurt Paul."

  "Why?"

  "Because I love him."

  A pause, then: "You sacrificed yourself for love?"

  I hadn't thought about it like that, but given the circumstances, that's exactly what happened. "Yes."

  "Sit up, Jezebel."

  And like that, I could move. Using my arms, I propped myself up. Seated beside me was a large man with jet black hair and dazzling green eyes, wearing a white shirt and slacks. His smile made those emerald eyes sparkle, but it was a sad smile all the same.

  I felt my eyes widen as I placed his face, and my mouth dropped open. "King Lucifer?"

  "King no more, Jezebel," He said with a laugh. "That mantle is no longer Mine to wear."

  Not knowing whether
I should prostrate myself, I stammered, "Then what role is Yours now, Unholy One?"

  His smile stretched into an amused grin. "There's nothing unholy about Me. I am the Morning Star, as always. Bringer of Light."

  Dropping my gaze, I whispered, "Lord Morning Star." King Lucifer was here, next to me! If I hadn't been almost dead already, I would have died on the spot.

  His hand touched my chin and tilted my head up until my eyes met his. "Please. I am Lucifer. And you are Jezebel."

  I squeaked, "Yes, Sire."

  With a sigh, He dropped His hand. "Stubborn one, aren't you?"

  I'd been called worse. "You will always be my King, Sire."

  "No, Jezebel. But you may call Me sire, if you wish." He smiled, shaking His head sadly. "You and I, we are similar in many ways."

  "Sire?"

  "We both befriended ones far stronger than us. And we both felt the loss when those friends were true to their natures instead of to us."

  "Please, Sire," I said. "I don't understand."

  "God removed Me from My role to do what He felt was best for humanity. That is His nature."

  His green eyes flashed, and I clearly saw that He still felt betrayed, raw. I wanted to touch His hand, tell Him that He didn't have to be bitter. But He was Lucifer, and I was just a one-time demon, a mortal without a soul. Who was I to tell Him anything of the sort?

  "And Megaera led you to your death, as she was directed to do by the King of Hell. That is her nature. Duty over friendship. Nature over nurture." He sighed. "The scorpion will always sting the frog."

  "But Meg gave me the chance to return. I was the one who said no."

  He nodded, His eyes thoughtful. "True."

  "Did…" I licked my lips, wondering if I dared ask. Before I could think too much about it, I said, "Did the Almighty give You a choice, Sire?"

  Gazing at me, a smile quirked His lips. "Perhaps He did."

  A wave of pain washed over me, and I doubled over until the feeling passed.

  King Lucifer touched my hand. "The moment is coming, Jezebel. You are about to die."

  I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable. I thought of Meg and her attempts to help me, of Daun and his touch. And Paul, his lovely eyes and gentle smile, the broken nose that hinted at the violence in his life. "I thank you for this conversation, Sire. It's… nice not being alone at the end."