by Tara West
The king’s table was elevated and made out of gnarled wood like the rest of them. The only difference was the rich gold drapery behind it, embroidered in silver and burgundy threads with what appeared to be a scene of Nephilim in battle. I saw a few headless demons, their bodies bleeding out onto the tapestry. Ewww. Nice visual while partaking of the evening meal.
Aedan pulled me along at a brisk pace, and as we neared the king, I saw a tiny man sitting beside him, looking like the head of a pin poking up from behind the dais. I smiled when I realized that pinhead was Callum. He looked too much like his brother, with muscular, tanned arms, dark, wavy hair, and eyes so blue they made my heart go pitter-patter. My gaze tunneled on Callum the rest of the way to the dais. He looked nothing like his old demon self, which made the fact that he was stuck in Hell for eternity all the more heartbreaking. There had to be a way to get him out of here.
Aedan released me as we approached the table. “King Og, if you would be so kind, we wish to speak with you alone.”
The king’s golden star glistened on his neck as he waved to the hushed crowd of giants. “Speak in front of kin. Nephilim have no secrets.”
Aedan worked a knot in his throat as he lifted his chin. “We believe there’s been a mistake. Ash knows nothing of how to fight a war.”
I summoned the courage to speak even though my throat had gone bone dry. “I never got past yellow belt in Tae Kwan Do.”
The king’s wrinkled brow fell, nearly obscuring his eyes as he bore down on us with a scowl. “There no mistake. Prophecy say golden fawen angel free Nephilim from damnation.”
“I can’t even get myself out of Hell,” I squeaked, feeling smaller beneath the weight of his stare.
Og stood, pushing back his chair with a loud clatter. “Look, we show you.” He motioned to the tapestry behind him like he was some fat, ugly Vanna White, and I was supposed to decipher the meaning behind a few demons getting their heads chopped off. But my knees weakened when he pointed to a winged woman in the center of the mural. She had golden feathers and wild hair fanned out in a halo around her head. Thunderbolts were shooting out of her hands, striking down creatures with twisted faces. But what got me were the woman’s eyes, the only threads of green on the tapestry—the Murphy eyes.
Aedan circled his arm under my waist as my legs felt ready to buckle beneath me. I could see why the Nephilim believed me to be their angel, because this woman looked exactly like me in demon form. My gaze traveled along the line of one of the thunderbolts to a black creature with six arms and a tail that curled over his head.
Holy smoke! I was at the heart of this battle between Nephilim and demons. And, oh, yeah, when I’d hit Scorpius with my thunderbolt today, I obviously hadn’t killed him.
“Who designed this?” Aedan demanded, his voice as hard as steel.
“Tapestry is Nephilim-made. Design comes from scrolls Holy Ones gave Nephilim before they called to Heaven,” Og said with a note of reverence in his voice. “Holy Ones come to Nephilim kin centuries ago. They say we must defeat demons. Then we be let into Heaven.” He stood to the side, pointing at a cluster of demons behind my image.
“Look.” I recognized a few familiar faces. “That’s you, Aedan, and that’s you, Sarge.” They were flanking my left and right with scythes drawn.
“So it is,” Aedan grumbled.
Sarge’s mouth hung open as he gawked at the tapestry. “We’re all here.”
I frowned when I noted one demon was not among us. I didn’t see Callum anywhere. What had happened to him? Had he refused to fight? Would he abandon us during our time of need?
“Now you see you must lead us.” Og struck the center of the tapestry with his meaty fist. “We defeat demons and God forgive all two thousand Nephilim and let us go to Heaven.”
“Two thousand giants!” Tremors wracked me when I realized just how many Nephilim surrounded me. That was a whole lot of frat boys. My shoulders stiffened as I gulped back the knot of fear that wedged itself in my throat. “It shouldn’t be that hard,” I reasoned. “I think we smoked most of Scorpius’s demons when we escaped.”
Callum stood on his chair, planting his knuckles on the table and frowning down at me. “Ash, Scorpius has an army of blood slaves.”
I shot Aedan a wary gaze before looking back at Callum. “An army?”
Callum’s eyes darkened. “At least twenty thousand, last I counted.”
A wave of murmurs rose up among the crowd, and I heard words like “never” and “too many” before Og silenced them with a pounding of his fist.
As I gazed at the image of the scorpion demon I had somehow brought to his knees, I realized he’d been a busy demon. Twenty-thousand blood slaves? Where was he hiding them all? I just hoped this portrait of us defeating their army was accurate, because if not, we were all fucked.
I’m fairly certain last time I sat in a booster seat I was three years old, but the giants had fashioned us some sort of high chair made up of an animal hide sling, the same striped fur Callum had in his cave. I blushed when I thought of Callum’s bed. I had no idea why. It’s not like I had anything to blush about since we technically never had sex. Dream sex hardly counted, even though it had felt real, really real and really damn good.
You’re not a cheater, Ash, I reminded myself for like the tenth time since Callum’s bare leg had accidentally brushed mine. He looked so much like Aedan, I actually found myself getting confused by them. I tried to blame it on the half goblet of wine I’d downed and not that I was attracted to Callum. Speaking of Callum, the king had sat me next to him, and my boyfriend was none too happy. I had no idea why Aedan was complaining since he got to sit on my other side. I felt much better inside a stud sandwich than next to a giant. If anyone had a right to complain, it was Sarge, who’d been obscured by two giants at the far end of the table with Jack whimpering behind him.
Callum leaned into me. “Ash, you should eat something.” His breath reeked of the sweet wine. Not that I’d been purposely counting, but I’d seen him down four goblets full already, and dinner wasn’t even half finished. Good thing the giants had found smaller cups for us, although I doubted Callum would have complained if they’d given him a fishbowl full of booze.
How could I possibly eat when my gut was twisted in knots? Scorpius had expected me to start an apocalypse, and Og wanted me to wage a war against a demon army. Somehow, I got the feeling the war and the apocalypse were related. Sheesh. I didn’t think my life could get more complicated.
“I’m not that hungry,” I lied. Truthfully, I was famished, but it was kind of hard eating while trying not to barf at the same time.
“Yes, you are,” he said, before picking a piece of fruit off my tray. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”
I frowned down at what appeared to be chunks of purple and pink kiwi fruit swimming in some sort of creamy sauce. “What is this stuff?”
“Ambrosia,” he said as he popped a large bite in my mouth. “Food of the gods.”
I held the fruit on my tongue, afraid to swallow even though my mouth practically burst with fireworks of flavor. “Is there gluten in it?” I asked with my mouth full. Guess it was too late if there was, since I felt some of the sauce slide down the back of my throat. I hoped they had port-a-potties on the battlefield.
“Gluten?” He winked, flashing a dimpled smile. “Not sure what that is, but ambrosia is made of fruit.”
I chewed my food, and then my taste buds were transported to another dimension, one of goodness and light and ripe, tangy perfection. Flavors assailed my senses unlike anything I’d ever known, like fudgy chocolate, spicy cinnamon and roasted almonds all rolled into one, plus some other sweet flavor I didn’t recognize. This stuff was as amazing, as divine as heavenly cheesecake. My taste buds were practically having a food-gasm.
“Mmmm,” I said as I swallowed. “This sure beats roasted spider.”
Callum laughed.
I hadn’t noticed Aedan had stiffened beside me until he threw d
own his fork.
I jumped in my sling, looking over at him with wide eyes. The fork was like ten pounds of silver, and it was lying in the middle of his Ambrosia stew.
My shoulders fell when I caught his sideways glare. Okay, letting Callum feed me was not such a good idea. Duly noted. I only hoped Aedan would keep the rest of his mantrum to himself, because the giants in the great hall had all gone silent, giving Aedan cold glares. I would hate for my boyfriend to end up in their sorbet because he was pissed off at their “angel.”
Og leaned forward and flashed a lopsided grin, breaking the tension Aedan’s outburst had created. “You like Nephilim food?”
I nodded. “I love it.” I shoveled another bite into my mouth, hoping he wouldn’t be offended I’d used my fingers, but there was no way I was wielding my silverware without a crane.
“Humankind call it forbidden fruit,” Og said.
I arched a brow. “Like the kind Adam and Eve ate?”
“Yah,” he said as a bit of cream spewed from his lips and thankfully missing my plate by a few inches. Honestly, this stuff was so good, and I was so famished, I would have probably eaten it anyway. Gross, I know, but I’d already passed up petrified spider and headless rat, so I deserved a pass.
“I don’t remember eating this on Earth.” I took another huge bite, amazed to see my plate was already half empty. Where the heck had my ambrosia gone?
“Forbidden fruit banned from Earth,” Og answered before downing several gulps of wine. “Only Nephilim grow it now.”
“It’s amazing.” I relished the soft, spongy texture on my tongue. It was more fun than cotton candy. “I could eat this all day.”
Aedan had finally come around and started eating again, wielding that huge fork as if he was a pro. I was glad to see his appetite had returned, hoping he’d get over his jealousy. I made a mental note to get him alone tonight and explain everything, even the strange sex dream and how Callum had refused my advances. Yeah, it was crazy stupid of me, but I didn’t want there to be any secrets between us. Besides, I had to get it off my chest.
Hopefully, Aedan would be understanding when I explained the deal with the water. Hopefully. Either way, he had to understand that Callum had not tried to seduce me at all, and Callum’s loyalty to his brother was the reason I had survived my first few nights in Hell. I only hoped Aedan could find it in his heart to forgive me for flirting with his brother and then dreaming about him. Stupid hormone water.
At some point during the dinner, I was fairly certain someone farted. The stench was so inhumanly bad, it was enough to clear out the table in front of us. The giants were laughing and pointing at their rather rosy-cheeked friend, who apologized to Og and the rest of us before hobbling away with his hand shielding his wide ass.
Callum leaned into me, fanning his face. “The only thing more deadly than a silent fart is a silent fart from a one-ton giant.”
I slapped my hand over my nose, laughing so hard my eyes watered, although the noxious fumes probably had something to do with my tears.
When dinner was over, Og stood, clanking his goblet with a knife. I had finished three goblets of wine by this point, so my head was swimming as I smiled up at him.
“A toast to fawen angel,” he bellowed as he raised his drink to the ceiling. “Who will help us defeat demon army.”
A giant came by and refilled my wine, and I happily toasted my demise alongside them. Callum raised his cup, too, sloshing the contents all over his plate. I had lost count of how many times he’d asked for his cup to be refilled but judging by the way he slurred and rocked in his high chair, he should have stopped at least seven drinks ago.
I barely noticed Aedan was the one person who refused to join in the toast. He sat as still as a statue with his hands fisted on the table. I suspected his concern over my immortal soul probably had something to do with his mood, but at the moment, I was too drunk to care. Besides, the more wine I drank, the more I actually believed I was the Nephilims’ chosen one. It was official. I’d gone certifiably crazy.
Katherine O’Connor
Dragging my injured leg behind me, I slowly made my way to the pit where Master kept his lesser blood slaves, over twenty thousand damned souls. The Pit was a giant chasm deep inside a cavern the size of Galveston Island. It was dark, musty, and miserable. It was also in the very center of Hell. And at the bottom of this pit was a narrow, fleshy tunnel where souls from lower dimensions were fortunate, or unfortunate enough, to claw their way back up to the top.
Master did not give his slaves in the pit any food or water, and though souls did not need nourishment to survive in Hell, the constant hollow ache in their guts was enough to drive them to cannibalism. They ate each other quite often, discarding the remains of their victims into the hole, casting them down another level to regenerate anew. Only those poor souls usually found themselves some other Gate Keeper’s blood slave, and the vicious cycle repeated itself again.
The fate of a demon was a dire one, though as Master’s favorite, mine had been far less so, until the day Shadow had returned from Purgatory with my husband’s bitch whore.
The mighty tigers circling the deep chasm snarled as I stepped up to the rim. No doubt they’d barely recognized the creature I’d become. I feared I’d never recover from the injuries I’d sustained. I was my master’s ‘fair one’ no longer. My blood boiled and my skin crackled when I thought about the many forms of revenge I could enact on him, though I knew it would result in my undoing.
I already knew the torture he was capable of inflicting. My neck ached as if it had been broken. Blood and puss oozed through the stump hanging from the base of my skull, the pain a grim reminder that my baby was no more. After Master and a few surviving demons had crawled from the tunnel with their faces covered in burns and blisters, he’d taken out his anger on me, making me suffer for that bitch’s crimes. Master had sliced off my loyal serpent and tossed her to the others. He’d pressed his boot into my skull as I watched, helpless as my baby writhed in pain while they chewed the scales off her flesh. He’d beaten me many times during my sentence in Hell, but never before had he gone this far.
I would have cried for my baby if I’d had any tears left to spill, but my compassion had dried up along with my heart many years ago, leaving me soulless and devoid of emotion, though I was capable of enjoying a few sensations: pleasure and revenge. Nothing would bring me more pleasure than enacting revenge on Aedan’s bitch. When we captured her again, I would find a way to make her pay. Even if Master cast me down another four dimensions, it would be worth it.
Standing at the edge of the rim, I peered down at the souls crying out for mercy, their arms extended as they clawed at the walls and each other to get to me.
“Please release us,” they begged. “Have mercy,” they cried.
I turned, nodding to the demons who waited in the shadows, watching with a smile as they lowered two dozen rope ladders into the Pit. I lifted my uninjured arm, beckoning them forward. “Come, slaves. Your master needs you.”
Aedan
Ash wrapped her arm around my neck, alternating between nibbling on my ear and giggling like a school-girl as I carried her to bed. I hadn’t seen her this happy in a long while. Why, I had no idea. Og was still determined to endanger her soul by making her lead their army in a war against the demons. That should have been enough reason to dampen her mood.
I wondered if her change in attitude had anything to do with Callum. They had been chummy the entire evening. He’d even had the nerve to feed her with his bare hands. My brother’s betrayal was like a knife through my chest, and Ash’s familiarity with Callum was her twisting that knife, digging deeper until she’d chipped away the rest of my heart.
Did they have any idea what their flirtations did to me, or didn’t they care? Between the two of them, they’d drunk an entire jug of wine, but neither was concerned as they downed goblet after goblet, laughing at each other’s jokes as if they were old friends.
&n
bsp; And then she’d been too drunk to stand, which was why I’d had to carry her. I’d thought about forcing her to walk the distance to our suite, hoping it would sober her up, but I knew my traitorous brother would offer to carry her instead. After Garf dropped off the others, he’d led us to our room and set Ash on the bed while I scooted a table to the edge of the thick mattress, standing on it to hoist myself up the rest of the way. Jack had followed right behind me, curling up at the foot of the bed. He’d already made his business several times on the way, once on a statue of King Og and twice on a potted plant. Garf assured me it would be okay. I certainly hoped so, because sending Ash’s dog outside was out of the question.
All but one of the wall sconces had been extinguished, leaving our room mostly dark with the exception of a low flame whose light illuminated the bed in a dull glow, just enough so I could make out Ash’s long legs and the swell of her breasts. If it was possible, her descent into Hell had only heightened her beauty. Her cheeks had been flushed all night, and her green eyes dazzled. Hopefully, her glow had come from the wine and not the blush of new love.
After I tucked her beneath the sheets, I laid beside her, staring up at the canopy and wondering what the hell I was going to do to get us out of our current situation, because Og was insane if he thought I was going to let my girlfriend wage a war against a demon army.
Ash rolled over, slapping my chest. “Make love to me,” she slurred.
I didn’t give pause to contemplate her proposal as I pushed her hand off me. “No.”