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

by Lucy Auburn

  “How will we break it?” Elah asked, looking around the lab. “I hadn’t actually thought this part through, I guess.”

  “I did.” Reaching over, I picked up a stool and held it over my head. “This is how.”

  Just when I was about to drop the stool, though, the doors opened. I looked over as Leon walked through, his eyes meeting mine—and then I smashed the stool against the mirror.

  It bounced off harmlessly, the stool crashing to the ground and rolling towards the far wall. When I picked the mirror up it was intact and flawless still. I sighed; I should’ve seen that one coming.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Folding his arms over his chest, Leon looked back and forth between me and my co-conspirator. “Figures. I leave you two alone for a minute and you corrupt him.” This was aimed at me, of course. “Typical.”

  I rolled my eyes, and Leon strode over to snatch the mirror from me. He barely even had to look at Elah in disapproval before the knight was wincing, his feet shifting back and forth. “This is hard to explain.”

  “It’s too late now that he’s found us,” I said bitterly. “And if smashing it doesn’t work I don’t know what will. Our oaths don’t matter unless we can destroy it.”

  “Destroy it? And what oaths?” Leon raised his eyebrows at this, then grabbed the stool and took a seat on it. “I’m in this now whether you like it or not. So you might as well tell me everything.”

  33

  Selena

  “There’s somewhere I have to go,” Petyr said, regret in his voice. “I’m due for a check in with the Elders. But I’ll be back before too long. In the meantime, if you need anything, just ask one of the acolytes in the white robes. They’re the fae charged with protecting this area.”

  “Okay,” I said, settling down on a curving bench set in the middle of a series of flowers that gave off a heavy fragrance. Their pollen seemed to float in the air in front of me, and something about the smell was oddly soothing. “I’m sure I’ll manage to occupy myself while you’re gone.”

  “It won’t be too long,” he repeated, reaching over to fiddle with his ring. “Try not to realm walk while I’m not here.”

  I sighed at his little joke, but before I could respond he was gone. It was dizzying to watch someone use one of the rings; I wondered if that was what I looked like when I placed my hand on the symbol in the book and used it to go places. One of these days I would have to figure out the trick to realm walking without any help. It seemed like the sort of skill that could come in handy quite often.

  Closing my eyes, I leaned back on the bench and let the scents around me overpower my senses. Something about them seemed to drag my body down, encouraging me to relax back into the bench. It reminded me of the sedatives and oxygen Tae Min gave to me after the fight in the graveyard. Lassitude spread throughout every limb of my body, and my consciousness began to sink down into a dream-like state.

  In that relaxing half state I found myself going back to a place I thought I’d ridden myself of forever. Like a vision, powerful memories overtook me, yanking me down into the Underworld once more. My mind, if not my body, returned to Hell.

  I was in the throne room again, walking around my mother’s throne. It called to me and knew my name. When I reached out to skim my fingers across it they came away bloodstained, wet with fresh blood. I shuddered and ran away, only to collide with Persephone. Looking down, I saw that Naomi’s dagger was in my hand again, piercing her chest. She smiled at me as she pulled it out.

  Then I was in my room, desperate to get out. I opened the door and flung myself against my guard. He was a demon, blue-skinned and scaly, his eyes inhuman and his teeth as long as knives. I grabbed him with my hands and drained his energy. When I was done he crumbled into dust, because without the demonic spirit to keep him together there was nothing left; no soul, no life. I stumbled away from the spot where he’d stood in horror, demonic energy wrapping around my hands.

  The memories were coming faster now, sharp and overwhelming. I tried to fight them, but my mind stayed in the undertow. There was no getting out of this one with sheer willpower; I was forced to face what I’d seen and done in Hell.

  Because the next memory that came was of the man my mother dragged to my room, like a cat presenting a still-living mouse to its human. My hands were on him. His eyes glazed over as I pulled energy from him. I watched my mother’s fingers sink into his chest and part the skin. He didn’t scream, because he was under my spell—until the moment I broke our connection, and it all flooded back at once.

  His scream as the pain flooded back was a sound I would never forget. That was me; that was who I was, in the end. The daughter of Persephone lived up to the blood coursing through her veins.

  The visions continued.

  I was sneaking out of my room, and Damen caught me, showing me for the first time how powerful he was.

  I stared into the mirror and saw my mother looking back. I wondered if we shared more than just our outside appearance.

  I searched for my escape, over and over, desperate to find it. I wanted to go home. I wanted to see my family and friends again.

  I was trapped in Hell. I cried out in pain at the horror of it.

  Then I felt a hand on my face, and knew it was real.

  “Help me move her.” The voice was soft, and unfamiliar; it came from outside the memories, in the physical world. “She’s had too much of the dust, and it’s poisoning her mind. Didn’t you notice that someone was sitting here unattended?”

  A second voice, younger: “I was tending to the Yarra trees. A branch fell in the last lightning storm. I’m sorry that she escaped my notice.”

  “Well, no matter. A few lungfuls of clean air and it’ll all be right again.”

  I felt confusion and puzzlement. The memories were drifting away on a light breeze, turning into scraps in the back of my mind. I felt something scratchy and hard at my back, and a hand on my cheek, calloused and warm. Taking a deep breath, I banished the overwhelming smell of pollen from my chest and opened my eyes.

  Staring down at me were a concerned pair of eyes the color of pale yellow grass. I blinked to bring the world into focus, realizing that I was leaned up against a tree further down the path, away from the bench where I’d somehow fallen into my own memories and been unable to get out of them. Two fae were crouched in front of me, one older and one younger, both wearing white robes.

  “What happened?” I sat up carefully, the older fae man guiding me with his hands. “Was I out for long?”

  “Not long, and you were under the spell of our memory tulips. We use them to help guide victims of traumatic events through their past, but usually,” he eyed his young accolade with a grimace, “we don’t let visitors do so alone. I’m sorry that you had to relive your trauma without guidance.”

  “I don’t have any trauma,” I said quickly, pushing myself up to my feet and brushing myself off. “Just some bad memories is all.”

  “Tend to your duties,” the older fae said to the younger, dismissing him. He then turned to me and murmured softly, “I cannot say how deep your trauma goes, young lady, but I do know that memory tulips do not drag someone down into the corners of their mind unless there is something that must be addressed. Whatever it is that troubles you, you would do well to talk about it—especially to those who care for you.”

  I was about to respond when I heard a familiar voice call my name, and turned to see that Tae Min was walking down the path towards me. Damen was behind him, dressed in a thick blue robe, a puzzled look on his face.

  “We’re all done for now,” Tae Min said, his eyes scanning the garden behind me. “Where’s the ambassador?”

  “He had business to attend to.” I turned to the fae acolyte and said, “Thank you for your help, but I think we’re done here.”

  “Very well.” His voice was soft and warm; sliding his hands into his sleeves, he pinned me with a meaningful look. “But if you ever find yourself in need of guidance,
we will be here for you when the time comes.”

  I gave him a wan smile and jogged over towards Tae Min, eyeing Damen with a spark of hope in my eyes. Quietly, I asked, “Is he remembering anything?”

  “Not much yet,” the doctor admitted, and my heart sank. Then he added, “It’s meant to take a while to work completely, though. He may not remember everything until a few hours or even days have passed. But he did remember one thing.”

  I looked over at Damen, who had found a bench to sit down on and was leaning back with his eyes closed, face towards the sun. “What did he remember?”

  “Someone he met down in the Underworld,” he said. “A woman named, of all things, Persephone.”

  Staring at the demigod, I felt my heart twist and leap into my throat. It occurred to me then that although I’d tried to keep the secret of my mother from my friends ever since returning to Earth, I might not have a choice whether or not it came out. Sooner or later, everyone would know who I was, and I would find out what that meant for me—and where my place was in this world.

  34

  Petyr

  As I stood before the Elders in Illyrium, the heat of their gazes upon me, I knew that things were at a breaking point. Their fear of the coming Godspring and what it had yet to bring was written on their faces. The trees must have spoken to them as they spoke to me, and now they knew to fear an uprising from Hell itself.

  “What news do you bring us?” Elder Zah-Mora of the winged fae spoke first, her voice commanding. “Tell us that you followed up on our lead for the Key. Seers do not scry into the future for nothing.”

  “We’ve discovered the item that you said would be there, though we aren’t yet sure that it’s the Key—”

  “Item?” The voice was sharp; I looked to Elder Catran O’Toole of the mountain people, who was nearly three feet tall and a thousand years old. “The Key is no item, boy. Have the prophecies gone over your head? Surely they still teach these things, even on Earth.”

  I let the blow roll off my shoulders, used to orneriness from the mountain Elder. It was just as well, because another winged fae spoke, Elder Prehenzie. “It is not universally agreed that the Key is ambulatory or alive,” they said, their voice and body genderless. “These things are disputed. Regardless, ambassador Kennedy, surely you realized that our message for you was that the Key would be revealed at a certain time and place—not discovered.”

  I frowned, letting the words roll around in my head as I considered them. “I’m not sure what the difference is,” I admitted. “We found a mirror hidden in a picture frame, and across its face was written ‘I am the Key.’ That seemed plain enough.”

  Elder O’Toole snorted rudely at this. “Foolish boy. Who was looking into the mirror when it revealed these words to you?”

  “I’m not sure that’s—”

  “Answer the question,” Elder Zah-Mora said sharply, and I was surprised by the tension in her voice. “The Godspring is coming, Petyr, and we’ve received word that one of your own walked out of the Underworld through an open hell gate—something you left out of your last missive about current events in your designated city.” I swallowed heavily; I’d known this might happen, but I wasn’t sure that my deceit would be revealed so soon. “We’ll get back to the reasons why you kept the secret of Selena Pierce’s realm walking out of your description of the hell gate later. Tell us now what else the mirror was reflecting when it wrote these words. What did it reveal to you?”

  It took a moment for me to realize the implications of what she said, and what it meant. But by then, I was sure that the answer was on my face; I had never been very good at hiding. “Selena was the one who found the mirror,” I said, desperately hoping that I was wrong. “But surely you can’t mean—”

  “She is the Key.” Elder Zah-Mora’s voice cut through everything in the room, silencing even the slightest of murmurs. I felt for a moment like the wind through the trees outside, which I could hear even in my sleep, no matter how far away I was from them, quieted at the winged fae’s proclamation. “We have had our eyes on her since she first awakened, and before then, when we discovered that a powerful fae child was put into the hands of a coven of witches. Her blood is of the Underworld, and she bears the Lightblood birthmark. She is forged between the dark and the divine, and it is her feet that walk through the gates of Hell and force them open.”

  I licked my lips in the silence that followed, my mouth as dry as sandpaper. Never before had I wished so fervently that I’d chosen a life for myself besides that of diplomacy. My position felt untenable, the ground beneath me unsteady.

  Elder Prehenzie spoke again into the silence, their voice ringing with finality. “You must bring her to us, ambassador, so that we may prevent her from dooming the Earth and all the realms of the fae. Selena Pierce cannot be allowed freedom.”

  O’Toole added, in an unpleasant tone, “She can’t be allowed to live at all.”

  I felt bile climb up my throat, and shook my head against it all: what was happening, and what was being asked of me. “No.” I was surprised by the loudness of my voice, which had always before felt small in this grand room, before these powerful and ancient beings. “I won’t bring her to you, and I won’t let you harm her. It’s unacceptable. Ask something else, but—don’t ask this.”

  There was a moment. “Let us confer,” Elder Mah-Zora said, and as she turned her back to me and moved inward to form a circle with the other Elders, a tiny sliver of hope grew in me: that there might be another way. That they wouldn’t ask this of me. I was Anyana, born of the earth and the sky, destined to return to the earth when I one day became an ancient tree like my father. Death was not a part of me, and I couldn’t change that, no matter the consequences.

  Before that hope could grow, the doors behind me opened. I turned and was shocked to see the Elders’ attendants letting a man through. He was tall, his deep brown skin almost as dark as the black clothing that swirled around him. The eyes that stared out of his face glowed amber and yellow, and they seemed to carry the promise of a growing flame in their depths. When he looked over at me, I felt as small as a mouse being stared at by an elephant.

  This, then, was a god.

  “Ignus.” Elder Mah-Zora turned from the circle, which broke apart abruptly, and greeted her guest. “You have not been seen in this realm for many years. Gods don’t usually walk among the fae, even those that can leave their realms at will.”

  “These are trying times, and they require overlooking certain customs. My apologies for my abruptness; I have only now just managed to escape a trap that was set for me.”

  Ignus walked in front of me to face the Elders, barely giving me a glance. I considered leaving, but when I met Elder Mah-Zora’s eyes it became clear that I hadn’t been dismissed yet. Whatever news the god brought, it was meant for my ears as well.

  “I’ve finished my reconnaissance mission to the Underworld,” he said in his booming voice. I fell still, worrying what he would say next. “As we suspected, the Queen and King of the Underworld are at an impasse. He has grown bored of serving his sentence, and she is no longer interested in playing his games. Their realm is fractured, and there are growing fissures.”

  Elder O’Toole leaned forward. “The Godspring—are they preparing for it?”

  “I wasn’t able to discern Hades’ exact plans,” Ignus said, “but I believe he is gathering an army. As for his wife Persephone, she has found a way out of Hell, and plans to use it soon. She has found her mortal daughter, who I must report is not as dead as we once believed.”

  Elder Mah-Zora murmured, “We feared this,” even as I reached over to grasp the ring on my hand, heart racing. “Where is the child now? You must find her—and I shouldn’t have to remind you why.”

  “The child is no child anymore. She walks the Earth among the fae. In my search for her, I traced her path to a witch couple, who named her after the Greek goddess of the moon.”

  Mah-Zora breathed, “Selena.”
r />   Ignus added, “Yes. Selena Pierce.”

  I had my ring sweep me away before I could hear the rest, transporting myself back to the healing springs. Once there, I saw Selena and grabbed her hand. “We have to go!”

  She looked at me, startled, her eyes wide and face confused. “Petyr, what’s going on?”

  “No time to explain.” I pulled her over to where the demigod Damen sat on a bench, and yanked him to his feet, placing his hand over mine. “We have to get out of here, now.”

  Tae Min’s hand had barely joined ours when I activated the ring’s powers and pulled us back to the Collective, the world coming into sharp focus all at once. As I blinked away the edges of the too-fast realm walking, I had to admit that I had no idea what came next.

  So when the earth beneath me trembled, it almost seemed inevitable. I heard a pounding in the hallway outside, followed by a distant shout.

  “Petyr, what’s going on?” Tae Min’s voice was sharp; there was something unfamiliar in his eyes, something almost feral. “Why did you yank us away so fast? I was still monitoring Damen’s status.”

  “I’m fine,” the demigod said, pushing wet hair away from his face. “But it sounds like something is happening out there that should concern all of you.”

  “It’s probably just an ogre. They escape from the stables at times,” I said dismissively. “My secretary can take care of it.”

  “Petyr, why did you take us here in such a hurry?” Selena looked at me, and I swallowed at the expression in her green eyes. How I’d missed her for so long—and how I wished that I could hold her to me and press my lips against hers. Diplomats weren’t supposed to have such thoughts, but I wasn’t even sure I was one anymore. “What’s going on? Just tell us.”