Hell is a Harem

by Kim Faulks

  My lips trembled, a sob tore free. Blood splattered perfect white feathers, arcing up and over.

  There was a sigh behind me, followed by a chuckle. The bodoach froze, nails digging into my skin.

  “Savior,” the bodoach hissed, and dragged his hand free.

  The night hag sank to cower on the ground.

  I could sense him…smell that unmistakable unseelie scent.

  He was slick autumn leaves and thick green moss. He was the icy water against the rocks. He was crystal clear air carving through me like a blade. He was everything I wanted…and everything I never had…

  “Redemption.” His name tore from my lips like a shard of glass, cutting me open as it left.

  I wrenched my gaze over my shoulder…but the bastard hovered just out of reach—standing in the shadows—where the piece of shit belonged. “You want to hurt me, is that it?” I twisted and turned, muscles pulled tight until they were burning. “I’m right here, you spineless piece of shit.”

  And that low chuckle echoed, bouncing around the cavern of this unseelie world.

  Tears blurred the outline of his body. “I never loved you—ever…I hate you. I fucking hate you, Redemption.”

  “That would hurt,” that icy voice whispered as the shadow moved closer. “That would really…really hurt…”

  And out of the darkness he came…towering above me, features cruelly perfect as the Unseelie Prince finished, “if I were him.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Rival

  Kill him…hurt him…tear the bastard apart for what he’s done to her…

  The choking scent of smoke stuck in my lungs.

  My paws hit the pavement, driving me through the night. Shadows and shapes blurred into one…headlights blinding as I cut across the street, and the squeal of brakes followed.

  Shouts then…shouts and screams.

  And still I hunted…hunted that savage, cold unseelie scent.

  I’d watched him…before I even made my move on her. Before I even fell in love. I watched the bastard follow her…watching the watcher as that sleek black car of his combed the streets, searching for her…

  I lifted my head, catching my reflection in the glass window of a closed diner. Flames danced from my hound’s eyes, orange blazing against black. I curled my lips, white fangs shone for a second, before I turned back to the streets.

  Fetid air filled me, pungent and rancid. The scent of humans…the scent of fear. I drove my paws into the pavement and charged ahead…he was out here…somewhere.

  Streets blurred into one as my paws pounded the tar. My lungs burned, muscles cramped in my side, still I kept pushing…racing through the crowded streets lined with apartments and towering buildings, until finally I caught the musty scent of cold wet earth.

  I slowed my gait and lifted my head. Kill the cop…kill the angel.

  I couldn’t…not now, maybe not ever. But I could kill him—the one who started it all…the one who lied to her, manipulated her, took from her…

  Yeah, I could kill him.

  I slowed my gait along a quiet street, bristles on the back of my neck itching as I scanned the shadows. A trembling howl tore free in the night.

  Air in my lungs, warm air driving back the bitter scent of smoke.

  Underneath that was cold, just a tiny thread of fetid, mossy leaves.

  I sniffed again, turning my head, and padded backwards…and scented blood, old blood—foul, infernal, old blood, and my hound gave a tiny whimper.

  Coarse bristles along my spine rose as that scent grew stronger…

  But not the unseelie…not the sonofabitch Redemption…someone else. Someone colder, older…and far more powerful.

  Another howl tore through the night, only this time, far in the distance…hurry…hurry…hurry…the call urged.

  My legs gave a shudder, muscles tensed as I leapt…running…running. Still the smell of that ancient power lingered. But it didn’t matter…the unseelie warrior was who I hunted…

  I lowered my head, heart thundering, as I speared down one street and then turned. The unseelie…the unsellie. A savage sound ripped from my chest, hard, hungry…hunting—and the creatures of the night stilled.

  Just like they always did.

  Just like they should…when a hellhound hunts, everyone stays quiet.

  But when I hunt—everyone shakes with fear.

  I’m coming for you…I’m coming for you, you sonofabitch.

  And that faint whiff of unseelie air caught on the breeze.

  I whipped my head left, slowed my steps, and turned. The scent came again…faint, though.

  That’s okay…I dragged in the air and licked my lips. The hunter in me loved this…I trotted down one street and then another.

  In the distance, headlights splashed the road as the car turned, and then turned again.

  My pulse sped at the sight. The car was too small to be his…but the direction made my heart clench. I shoved forward, finding the small quiet road, and followed that car.

  Red brake lights flared for a moment, and then died.

  I could hear the ticking of the cooling engine…smell the stifling scent of hot brakes in the air. The soft thud of a car door sounded through the air.

  I closed in, sniffing…drawing in the salty taste of chicken…and beans. I licked my lips. She smelled like home cooking, like love and kindness, overlaid with the heat of anger.

  Anger that was fresh. Anger that was hot.

  The clip…clip…clip…of heels against the pavement made me slow. Even in the distance I could see her, sneaking up to the side of a building and peering around the corner.

  She was on the wrong side of the line to be the hunter—especially for a mortal woman that smelled as good as she did.

  She stilled at the apartment door, gave the handle a turn, and stopped. I slowed to a walk, and then even slower, watching as she gave the locked door a shove…and then the middle finger.

  My stomach tightened, a ghost of a smile crested my lips. Somehow it felt like I should know her. She delved into a small handbag and pulled something free, and then she was bending over, slipping a pick into the lock and working the mechanism.

  I’ll be damned.

  A second later, she straightened, squared her shoulders, and pushed through the doorway. Not so feeble after all. I was impressed…until the door closed behind her with a tap instead of a click.

  Not locked…I stepped closer, cutting in front of the tiny blue car. She’d done so fucking well until that point. I turned my head, sniffed the tires on the little car, and mounted the curb.

  Thud…thud…thud…her heels echoed as she climbed the stairs inside.

  Humans. May as well have sent out a fucking marching band announcing her arrival. I stared through the plate glass front and, in my mind, the place was filled with fire…fire that smelled like burning plastic…fire that smelled like hate.

  I lifted a paw, flared my toes. My claws slipped into the gap left behind by the human, and yanked. Cold, feral, unseelie scent filled my lungs. The shit was stifling, clogging my nose, and sticking to the back of my throat as I pushed through and let the door ease closed behind me.

  One push with my ass and the door clicked locked. There’d be no more surprises. No more humans to rain on my parade.

  I’d have to kill her…

  The thought made me still as I padded up the stairs. Kill the human…kill the unseelie—make it look like an accident. I took a step as the thud…thud…thud…of a fist on the door echoed from upstairs.

  “Redemption. I know you’re in there…now open this damn door.”

  She sounded older…softer. An older woman playing mean. I took a step and mounted the next stair, and then another, hard claws muffled on the stairs.

  “I’m not going away. This is the last damn place on this list…and I’ve been searching all fucking day.”

  I winced at the word fuck from her mouth. The damn word sounded so alien…so tired, and that nagging
thought of familiarity flooded back to me. My steps made no sound as she roared again.

  “I want answers. I demand them. She needs to know the truth, Redemption. She needs to know why!”

  Footsteps sounded behind the door, faint…barely making a sound. But I heard them. I heard the roll of his boots, and the rush of his breath as he neared, closer…closer…closer toward the door.

  My lips curled as I mounted the last few stairs. A shadow passed under the door. I could almost see his hand on the knob...almost feel the fight.

  “I’m not going away,” the older woman muttered, her voice lower this time. “And neither is Lorn.”

  I flinched with the sound of her name…heart slamming…breath trapped. She was here for Lorn…she was here for the same reason.

  No, not the same reason…

  Hate stoked the flames of Hell inside me. It wasn’t the same reason at all. The knob turned, metal scraped on metal as I stepped from the last stair and hunkered a bit to the side

  My muscles tightened, claws ached. Have to be careful…have to be quick. I tightened my jaw, testing tendons and fangs, as the apartment door cracked open.

  He looked down, dwarfing the feisty older woman, and murmured. “Betty. How on earth did you find me?”

  She waved a piece of paper in the air in front of his face. “I found this list of safe houses Alma purchased fifteen years ago, buried under a mountain of tax returns. Never underestimate the power of a good receptionist.”

  I wanted to care about her…wanted to wait for her to move, but that foul unseelie stench filled my lungs.

  He killed Lorn’s mother.

  And now he wanted to kill her…

  I dropped my gaze to his throat. In the corner of my eye, I caught him freeze, caught him shift those beady black eyes to me.

  “Look out!” he screamed.

  But he was too late. I was already lunging, already focused on tearing the bastard’s throat out. Air buffeted my face as I hit the edge of the door.

  Agony flared through my shoulder as I collided with the doorframe. Betty cried out as she hit the wall with a thud.

  I opened my jaw, sights set on those pulsing veins in his throat, as I barreled into the bastard, pushing him backwards. His dark eyes widened, showing the whites.

  He moved faster than I expected, falling backwards to hit the floor. My jaws snapped closed, fangs grazing the flesh of his neck before he rolled. I sprang once more, flames licked from my nostrils, but he was already pushing from the floor and clenching his fists.

  He swung as I came for him. Paws pounded as I dropped to the floor, coiled, then sprang once more.

  “Stop this!” Betty screamed behind me.

  Something hit my flank and then bounced. I wrenched my gaze over my shoulder, to find her purse on the floor, and then to the frail human woman in the doorway. There was fire in her eyes…a fire like I’d never seen before.

  “Betty, stay back,” Redemption growled, and lifted a hand in the air. “I know why he’s here.”

  A savage snarl slipped from my lips as I turned to him.

  His raised hand trembled, and then lowered to his side. His shoulders slumped…defeat raged in his eyes. “I deserve this…” he murmured, and held my gaze. “I failed her.”

  Failed her…failed her…

  “You didn’t kill her mother?” Betty murmured.

  I wanted to see the truth, and not the one that slipped from his lying lips. I wanted to see the one that hovered under the surface—the one only found in his soul…that echoed from his eyes.

  There was a flinch with the words, before the fighter in him broke through, fists clenching at his side, and the flat, cold voice of a broken man filled the space. “You think I’d do all this if I had?”

  I lifted my gaze, staring around the room.

  “You think I’d tear myself apart trying to find a way in…I’d give anything to find the way back there…I’d find a way to make that bastard pay.”

  Maps plastered every inch of the walls. Gridlines marked out the sections, one overlaid with another, and another, and another.

  “I can’t get through,” he whispered. “Every day there’s a new portal…and it’s never in the same place twice.”

  The scent of blood wafted into the air as he lifted his hand to knead the muscles at the back of his neck. I drew in that cold, inhuman scent with every breath.

  I noticed the tear in his shirt, and glimpsed the gash in his side.

  “You’re bleeding,” Betty muttered.

  Her steps sounded behind me before there was a feeble shove at my flank.

  “Out of the way, hellhound,” Betty snarled and pushed past. “Can’t you see he’s in pain?”

  But the maps called me, one overlaid on the other, some were curled on the table against the sofa. Blood-soaked gauze sat on the corner, along with an open first aid kit.

  The place was a mess…a military mess. Weapons were piled beside the door, shotguns stood upright on the other side of it. There were swords and axes, but like none I’d ever seen.

  This stuff wasn’t for protection…this was for an invasion.

  “I killed Lorn’s mother, but not the way you think. I tried to get to her…tried to keep her safe when I knew what he had planned for her.”

  “Who?” Betty murmured. “Who was it?”

  “The Unseelie Prince.”

  I jerked my head up, gaze scanning the doorway across the room.

  An old woman stood there with a bloody arm gripping a shotgun, the barrel aimed at me.

  I didn’t recognize her at first. This wasn’t the same woman I’d seen barely a week ago. This woman was old…this woman was fragile…this woman was beaten half to death.

  “Dear God. Alma?” Betty lunged as the old woman’s knee gave way.

  The receptionist’s feet skidded, her heels clacking against the wood floor. She reached her friend just in time, as the mighty Alma Goodchild collapsed against the wall.

  “Jesus Christ,” Betty roared. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “Bodoach…that’s what happened. We thought we had him cornered,” Redemption muttered, and looked at the frail old woman against the wall. “We were wrong. They were waiting for us.”

  “Why the hell would you want to get through, then?” Betty grunted as she slipped Alma’s arm around her shoulder and took a step toward the sofa.

  They stumbled and then righted, staggering until both women collapsed against the faded brown seat.

  Redemption watched them before answering. “Because it’s the only way we can keep her safe.”

  “But she’s not safe…that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Lorn’s not answering my calls. Any of them…and she always answers.”

  Redemption wrenched his gaze to Alma. They were both beaten…both done. He glanced toward me…lips curled in a sneer. “Whatever your beef is with me, it’ll have to wait.”

  My hound shuddered as panic roared. I glanced at the receptionist, who muttered and fussed. “I panicked…I didn’t know what to do. I thought she might be here…”

  “It’s okay,” Alma croaked. “She’s going to be fine.”

  Redemption grasped the phone from his pocket as my body shuddered. Muscles tightened, bones snapped and lengthened, as my hips re-formed, tilting upwards, pushing me higher. I shoved my back paws against the floor, standing, stumbling, as coarse black fur sank into pale flesh.

  The two women watched me…watched as my hound slipped away until I stood upright in the middle of the room.

  “This is your fault, hellhound,” Alma snarled. Her words had teeth, sinking deep. “This was all your fault. No family, no lovers…” She glanced at Redemption as he muttered into the phone. “No goddamn father. She was safe when she wasn’t a threat. But now…now she’s in his sights.”

  My body trembled as the night air cooled on my bare skin. Betty and Alma both watched me, but for very different reasons.

  Alma’s hard eyes narrowed, her gaze ne
ver once moving from my eyes. Hate and need raged, just like the flames of hell, in her spirit. But Betty’s gaze slipped along my body as I took a step forward.

  “I don’t know,” Redemption murmured as he reached for the maps on the table.

  The edges curled in his grasp, buckling under his grip as he clenched, tearing the fragile paper, and then threw the damn thing to the side to scream, “I don’t know how to save her!”

  The scent of cold, ancient moss filled my mind.

  Dark streets. Paws pounding…pounding.

  And that scent. That unmistakable scent of old, raw power lingering in the dark.

  I thought it was him—I lifted my gaze to the towering unseelie warrior. I thought the unseelie after Lorn was him. “I know where. I know where to get through.”

  Redemption’s gaze snapped my way. Unmerciful rage welled in his dark eyes. “Tell me where.”

  I took a step. “Give me a pair of pants and I’ll show you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lorn

  He stepped from the shadows and smiled. “Expecting someone else?”

  I shook my head, the faded light playing tricks on me. “I don’t understand…I....”

  “Then let me spell it out for you,” the Prince snarled and stepped close.

  The bodoach stepped out of the way, leaving the Prince to tower over me. “You are the key…the key to me finally getting what I want.”

  I flinched with the words. Fuck you, lingered on the tip of my tongue. I dragged in a breath…and felt the world spin.

  And then darken.

  And out of the inky world, red and blue flickered…red and blue…red and blue…red and blue…

  We’re losing her! The faint voice drifted to the surface.

  “No,” I tried to hang on to the present…tried to claw my way back to the cold and the damp…and the sound of Gabriel snarling.

  “Get the fuck away from her!” my archangel roared.

  Hands on me…cold hands, icy hands, tearing my clothes. “Are you still with us, Lorn?”

  We’re losing her!