Hell Sucks: A Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy (Selena Pierce Book 2)

by Lucy Auburn

  Which I did.

  18

  Selena

  This time, Vincent didn’t lead me to an archway or a fountain with fighting statues. He led me to what seemed to be a home, rising out of the darkness from nowhere.

  It was a small house, Grecian in style, with modest columns and two balconies jutting out of the second level. A wide pathway led to the front doors, with—of course—a fountain set in the middle of the path. It reminded me almost of Elah’s house in the Realm of Light, and I wondered briefly if maybe many of the fae who lived in the other realms were stuck in the moments in great civilizations when they left Earth. For Elah’s family, that seemed to be sometime around the Victorian era, while Vincent was giving me Greek Empire vibes.

  “I’m surprised you don’t live in a mansion,” I said, as he brought me up the shallow steps to the front door. “Are you sure this is yours?”

  He smiled at me, eyes crinkling subtly at the corners. “This was the first house I ever built out of the magic of this place. It’s quite small, I admit.” His voice was tinged with regret. “But I chose not to change it later, even when I gained the skills to do so. It reminds me of how far I’ve come.”

  Meanwhile, I couldn’t even use all of my own powers. As we walked into the front room of the house and I took a look around at the strange art on the walls, carved marble fireplace, and multiple statues of the mostly-naked human form, I wondered how he did it.

  Vincent, of course, seemed to sense my curiosity. “You’re wondering how it is that I made all of this.”

  “I don’t know what kind of fae you are,” I admitted. “I never asked.” It occurred to me that for all I knew, he ate flesh like Percy. “Is this what you do? Build things?”

  He laughed, his head tilting back to reveal the soft brown curve of his throat. I took a brief moment to appreciate how humor seemed to lift the charm and self-confidence from him, revealing the man—or fae—beneath.

  “No, little wolf,” he said, flashing the white of his teeth at me. “I’m not a builder, though I do build here. The Shadow Realm has different properties—here, we can make something out of nothing, because this place has few rules.” He held out his hand and made a little light in his palm, releasing it to bob towards the ceiling. “I’m no architect.”

  “Then what are you?” I asked, nervous of the answer. “If you’re going to claim to know so much about me, the least you could do is tell me who you are. All I know is that you were part of the rebellion?”

  “Part?” He quirked a brow, a long-suffering look on his face. “I was the lynchpin in the rebellion. But as for what I am, little wolf, I’m known by many names: seducer, charmer, ancient, sometimes even a god.” Vincent took a step towards me, so subtle I barely noticed the movement. “Sometimes I am called Ambrogio, though mostly that it just a story turned to myth. Most of what I am has passed to legend. Chief among the legends, though, the surest, truest thing I am is vampire.”

  I choked on a nervous laugh. “You... drink blood?”

  Vincent scoffed and shook his head. “No, little succubus. Eating flesh is so very base—the lowest of impulses. What I consume is love.”

  I stared at him, blinking. “You can’t be serious.”

  He cocked his head at me. “Can’t I though?”

  “You eat... love.”

  “You feed off sexual energy,” he pointed out. “In the end, love is not all that different.”

  “I suppose,” I admitted, turning my attention to one of the statues as a distraction from the discomfort his words left inside me. “It doesn’t seem like there’s much love in this realm, though.”

  He chuckled, low and dark. “That you are right about. Which is why it’s a good thing that I only need to feed off others’ energy in order to use my powers. Without them, I’m a simple fae, trapped in a realm I can never get out of.” As I traced my finger down the marble statue, he reached out to still my hand. “And so I build things, creating something out of nothing in order to distract myself from my lonely existence. It’s been so long since I’ve tasted love on my tongue—can you imagine?”

  I swallowed; he was so close that it was distracting. “I... I guess it doesn’t sound that different from what I do, really.”

  “So you understand me,” he murmured into my ear. Just when I was about to turn and face him, he smoothly stepped back from me, and I didn’t know if I missed his warmth or hated him for so easily getting my attention. “Now that you know what I am, let me help you come to understand yourself, Selena.”

  It was the first time he’d said my name this visit, and not a little nickname. Something about it rolled around inside me, and I was reminded of my reasoning for coming here. “First, there’s something I want to give you.”

  “Oh?” He raised dark brows at me, his gaze penetrating. I reached into my gym shorts and pulled out the amulet, which he stared at. “I’m the one who gave that to you.”

  “Yes. I remember.” I swallowed thickly, trying to remember my reasoning for wanting to return the amulet. “It’s been... less than helpful. And I don’t need it now, so there’s no reason for me to keep it. You might as well take it back.”

  “Is this because of what I said?” he asked, stepping towards me with his hand outstretched above mine. “You asked me for help, and I told you to find it from within. But perhaps you weren’t ready to stand on your own feet.”

  I frowned at the way he worded it. “I needed someone, and when I reached out to you, it was like you didn’t even care.”

  Vincent stared at me for a long moment, and I shifted uncomfortably, wondering if he was ever going to take the amulet back. Finally, he said, “I did care. Do care.”

  “I don’t understand why,” I admitted in a small voice. “We only ever met by chance. Why—why me? Does it have something to do with...” I hated to say her name, “Persephone?”

  His eyes flashed. “I’m not one of her sickening sycophants, if that’s what your asking. Your mother is no god to me.”

  No, I didn’t imagine she would be, to someone who claimed as long and illustrious a life as Vincent. “I just don’t know why else you would care about me. You even requested me when you had information about that demon summoner in Baton Rouge. Why?”

  “Maybe it has something to do with my origin story,” he said lightly, hand coming down to cup the amulet in my palm, but not taking it. “Your name is Selena, after all, which is the name of my first love.” I started to speak, but he wasn’t done yet. “That isn’t it though. Not if I’m being truthful. The truth is, there’s something about you that fascinates me. That has since the day I found out about your birth, and knew that your very existence meant the dawning of a new age, a new world. Do you know what you are, Selena?”

  “No,” I admitted in a small voice.

  “You’re something new.” Vincent took my fingers and curled them over the amulet, so that I was holding it in a tight grip instead of offering it to him. “The union between light and dark, between a god below and... well, a god above, a creator who achieved higher being.” My brows furrowed at his words, which teased at me. “You’re not meant to live in this world, Selena. You’re meant to lead it. And I want to show you how.”

  “By showing me how to use my darkness,” I said flatly, remembering the things he’d told me when we first met. “But I’m not interested in the dark, Vincent. I want to prove to the people around me that I deserve to be with them, to walk in the light.”

  I wanted to prove that I was worth Damen’s sacrifice when he helped me escape the Underworld.

  Out of nowhere, Vincent asked me a question. “Selena, what is darkness?” He turned from me and inexplicably walked towards the other room, forcing me to follow. Irritated, I set the amulet down on the ledge above the fireplace, watching as he stopped in a wide room full of settees and couches and turned to me with a flourish. “Answer the question. What is darkness?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Evil. Hurting others. Ta
king things you don’t deserve.” I looked down as I added, “Manipulating people,” which I’d done, “and... and torturing them.”

  Softly, Vincent said, “You’re wrong. Not completely, but in all the ways that matter, your answer is incorrect.”

  I looked up at him, anger boiling inside me. “Then what, Vincent? What is darkness? What is this—this thing inside me, that seems sometimes to want to take and take until there’s nothing left but ashes and pain?”

  “Freedom.” His words were simple, but there was the force of a thousand years behind them, of a rebellion that he led, and the downfall that followed. “Freedom from, and freedom to. Darkness is self-determination, uprising and rebellion. Darkness is what makes it possible for you to make mistakes—it’s what makes you you, Selena.”

  I stared at him, wanting to run from him and to him at the same time, as I wondered if he was right or if I was right—or if maybe, we both were. I thought of all the things I’d done in the Underworld, and what I’d seen in my mother that I knew lived inside me as well.

  Licking my lips, I asked, “Do you ever regret the things you’ve done?”

  “Not one bit.” His answer was swift and sure in a way I didn’t think I’d ever been. “The path I chose was the only one for me, and I’m glad I took it. Even as I stand here in this shitty little house made of shitty little magics, surrounded by the darkness of a void, without love anywhere in my life—I don’t regret a single second, little wolf.”

  Walking towards me, he reached out and took my elbows in his hands, his grip sure and warm. “And you shouldn’t regret anything you do either. Because any mistakes you make are only proof that you had the freedom to make them—and that’s the only thing that makes life worth living. Trust me,” his mouth quirked up in a smile, “I’ve lived long enough to know that, if nothing else.”

  I stared up into his face, hands curling against his chest. Half of what made Vincent so attractive, so seductive, was his confidence and biting wit. While his face was pleasing, and the body beneath my hands definitely had something to offer, it was the way he moved and looked at me that drew me to him more than anything.

  I should’ve been afraid of how much longing I felt for him.

  But instead I was tired—tired of denying myself pleasure, tired of feeling guilty and afraid. In front of me was a man who would never judge me, never hate me, because nothing I had done could ever compare to the centuries he’d spent emerged in his own darkness. I could sink my teeth into him, take until he was a dry shell of himself, and he would feel no pain. Most importantly, I would feel no guilt, because Vincent was freedom itself.

  He waited for me as I searched his face with my eyes, his hands on my arms neither insistent nor weak. I felt as if I could turn from him right now and run into the dark, and he would let me, his dark eyes merely watching me go. But I could also throw myself against him with the hunger of a woman starved of affection for years, and there would be no judgment in the corners of his eyes.

  I reached up to touch his cheek, feeling the slight prickle of recently shaved skin. “I don’t really feel anything for you,” I said distantly, “in case you were thinking that you would be able to feed yourself from me.”

  His voice was rough as he responded, “If it’s sexual energy you’re looking for, little wolf, I have plenty of that.” I watched him lick his lips. “As for love—my hope for that emotion or anything like it dried up long ago.”

  “Good.” My voice was a whisper. “Because you won’t be getting any from me.”

  My body curved towards his as I stretched up to kiss him, melting into the taste of his mouth on mine. Vincent was amber encasing a firefly, blood beating through a struggling heart, eons of loneliness spent in the dark. His hands moved down to my waist, pulling me towards him with a strength that was insistent—but only enough to spark heat in my groin, and never so much I felt overwhelmed or trapped.

  I pressed forward, opening my legs to rub against his thigh. I felt the power and heat of his lust for me, but though I tried to urge him on he went as slow—or as fast—as he felt like going. With a low, dark chuckle, he took me in his arms and drew me down onto the cushions of a wide settee, pulling me into his lap. I straddled him, my gym shorts pushed up to show the insides of my thighs, his clothes little but the suggestion of black fabric clinging to dense muscles.

  For a moment I wondered what I was doing. Vincent’s hand came up to stroke at the side of my neck, his fingers warm and surprisingly gentle. He stared at me with half-lidded eyes, waiting again. Waiting for me to make the choice to go to him—and never the other way around.

  “You were hurt,” he said, his hand probing at the edges of my brand new scar. “Recently, by the look of it.”

  I shuddered, not from his touch but from the recent memory. “Have you ever heard of Beelzebub?”

  “Ah.” Two dark brows rose in understanding. “The devil’s son. He has an unpleasant bite, that one.”

  His words surprised me. “You’re saying Hades... that he, with...”

  “Had an illicit tryst with a demon? Of course. What else would the King of the Underworld do with his time? His cage is worse than mine.”

  I thought of my mother, and wondered how she’d turned her husband’s son against him. “I didn’t know who his father was. He was supposed to be my husband.”

  To my surprise, Vincent threw his head back and laughed, the sound deep and full like a heavy brass bell. This was the second time I’d seen an emotion on him other than confidence or flirtatiousness, and it surprised me how much I liked it.

  Too much.

  Maybe I needed to get him out of my system. As the laughing stopped and his touch on my neck moved up to my face, his eyes heavy with lust again, I made a decision. I would get whatever I could from Vincent—knowledge about my family, dark fae energy, an outlet for my sexual desires—and then leave, never to return again.

  It seemed like a sound idea at the time.

  “So.” I wriggled in his lap suggestively, watching as the look in his eyes grew heavier and darker. “Are we gonna do this, or not?”

  His mouth quirked lopsidedly. “Women have changed since my day.”

  “And?” I challenged him.

  “Little wolf.” He leaned forward until our lips were close enough to brush together as he spoke, and my eyes fluttered in expectation. “If we do this, you must know that it will change things between us.”

  “Nothing changes. There is no us,” I said, and I claimed his mouth with my own, taking what little control I could from him.

  He opened up to me, mouth spices and lustful intentions. His hands moved down to my hips, and he flipped me onto my back on the cushions, pelvis settling in between my splayed legs. I moaned into his mouth as his hands slipped beneath my T-shirt, which was all I was wearing.

  Clever hands touched my ribs and brushed against my nipples. Eyes that didn’t show their age looked down at me with banked heat as he pressed his erection against me, visible through layers of cloth. We didn’t speak, all breath, tongues, and hands, as he reached down to pull his shirt off.

  His mouth turned from kisses to little nipping bites against my cheek and jaw. I closed my eyes, breath hitching, succumbing to my physical lust for the first time in months. For the first time since I found out what I was and began to fear what I saw in the mirror.

  When I opened my eyes again, it was because Vincent had drawn back from me. But it wasn’t to stop what we were doing, to keep me in check or resist me. It was to reach down and pull the rest of his clothes off, revealing all of himself to me.

  He had broad shoulders that narrowed in a deep V to the rippled plane of his abdomen, which was powerful and muscular. I could see the curve of what had to be a great ass just around the corner of his hips, but my eyes, of course, were drawn most to the upright cock jutting out of a thick mess of black hair between his thighs. It was smooth and uncut, girthy and straight, long enough that my mouth watered at the thought of takin
g it on my tongue.

  He smirked at the look on my face. “Gaze upon my works, little wolf, and tremble.”

  I rolled my eyes at his smarmy words. “You know how ironic that is for you to say, right?” Something occurred to me. “Do you guys get books in here or—”

  He cut me off by hooking his thumbs beneath the waistband of my gym shorts, yanking them down, and spreading my thighs with intention. My breath caught as he dipped his head down, amber eyes devouring me first—and warm mouth soon after.

  Vincent’s tongue was clever, as clever as a millennia or more of sex could make a man. I gasped and pressed down on him, thighs clamping against the sides of his head as he worked my lips and clit in equal parts. He moved to my most sensitive spots, tongue flashing and pressing against them in quick movements until I shuddered and bucked—and then he drew back just enough to make it exquisite torture, pressure turning to little teases.

  His fingers moved down to rim my opening lightly as he sucked on my clit and flicked the tip of his tongue against its sensitive head. I gasped and moved against him, hand coming down to thread through the short strands of his thick black hair. He never let up pressure as I crested towards an all-consuming orgasm, came down from it, and found him teasing me towards a second round.

  I gasped and squealed, feeling his fingers move in and out of me deeply, spreading my wetness around. This time he moved his mouth on me slowly, eyes flicking up to look into my heat-reddened face as he flattened his tongue out and pressed it against my swollen lips. Biting my lower lip, I felt my breath come fast and hard at the look of pleasure in his face, knowing that the man who revelled in my taste was powerful and ancient. I could taste what he was on my tongue, could feel it settle inside me and begin to sate the hungry beast that lived beneath my skin.

  His clever fingers and quick tongue brought me to another orgasm, this one drawn-out and almost painful in its pleasure. When I came down the second time, I was breathless and flat on the settee, barely able to think, much less speak.