Hot House: Dante and Hayley

by Sheri Gilmore

  Hades shook his head. There went a guy with a chip on his shoulder bigger than the universe. One day someone would set him straight. Probably another woman, but one smarter than Medea had been.

  “Hades, I want that demon here, front and center.” Zeus paced the marble floor of Olympus.

  “Well, I’m not sure where Charon is, my lord. He is probably hiding over at the House of Purgatory.”

  “Get the troops together, then. It’s time we paid Dis a visit. Besides the souls I want coming into the underworld, I want your nickname reclaimed.”

  * * * * *

  “Get up, Samael.” Michael kicked his brother’s boot. “Zeus and Hades will be here soon, and we’ve got to make a stand.”

  Dis lay across his divan and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t move.

  “Did you not hear me, brother? Get your ass in gear.”

  Dis turned his head and stared up at Michael. “Why?”

  “Why?” Michael grabbed him by the vest and hauled him up. “Because our Lord is depending on us to defend this gate.”

  Dis felt the heat of Michael’s words wash over his skin and the power in his brother’s arms when they shook him, but he stayed limp and refused to respond. What did it matter if Zeus took control? There was nothing left for him here. His heart had died for the last time, and his soul had been damned years ago. His eyes met Michael’s.

  “Why does He care about this realm? The righteous souls will come to Him.”

  “You fool.” Michael shook him one more time before he released him to fall back against the divan. “Don’t you understand? Or are you still so self-centered you can’t see?”

  Dis frowned as Michael paced to the far wall and propped himself against one arm. Black hair fell around his face when he dropped his head and stared at the floor. The mighty angel had never looked so defeated. Lines of strain etched the skin around his mouth and forehead. Dis sat higher on the cushions.

  “If Zeus gains control of the gate, then no souls, good or bad, can enter Purgatory unless they are pagan. They will wander aimlessly to haunt the world.”

  Michael looked at him. “Hayley’s soul will wander in despair, forever.”

  A sharp pain caused his heart to skip a beat. He couldn’t let that happen to her. She belonged in Heaven when the day came for her to die. Not wandering, looking for a place to rest before her soul entered another body. If the souls didn’t rest, they would never be able to reincarnate. Why hadn’t he realized this?

  He stood up and grabbed his dagger. “Let’s go.”

  Michael blocked his progress. “Thank you, Sam.”

  Dis ignored the hand his brother offered. “I’m not doing this for Him. I’m doing this for Hayley.” He brushed past Michael, not hearing the angel’s whispered words.

  “But you are doing what needs to be done. That’s what counts, o prodigal son.” Michael smiled.

  * * * * *

  “Hayley, wake up, dear.”

  The soft voice whispered in her ear. Hayley pulled her eyebrows together and tried to open her eyes. Pain ebbed and flowed through her stiffened body. She moaned with the effort to make contact with the soft, feminine voice that called her.

  Where’s Dante?

  She struggled until her eyes were slits against the brightness of the room. A white-clad middle-aged woman bent over her with kind eyes. A nurse.

  “There you are. How do you feel, dear?”

  A cool hand stroked across her forehead. Hayley tried to answer, but the words came out as a croak through her dry lips. She swallowed and tried again.

  “I-I hurt.”

  The nurse smiled and patted her arm. “You’ve had a rough journey, sweetie. It will be a few weeks before you feel like your normal self.”

  Journey? Did the woman know where she’d been? How had she gotten here? Hayley looked around, her movements slow. The room was stark, the white walls reflecting the sterile effect. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was in Heaven.

  A stab of pain in her head reminded her she was indeed in the real world. No, nothing could hurt this bad in Heaven. What about Hell?

  She took a deep breath. Had it all been a dream induced by her trauma? The memory of Dante’s touch and kiss were still vivid in her mind. No, he had been real.

  Her mind rebelled at the thought that her lover might have been a figment of her imagination. His arms, holding her; his voice, telling her of his love. She bit her lip. A tear eased down her cheek, but she didn’t have the energy to wipe it away. She knew he was real, but he was gone.

  “It’s okay, Hayley. After a major trauma, it’s normal to be overwhelmed and emotional. Go ahead and cry, my dear. Let it all out.”

  Hayley closed her eyes to stem the flow of tears. Flashes of Dante, smiling down at her, raced through her mind. Images of Gina and Michael followed. A sob caught in her throat and she hiccupped. Pain burned through her ribs at the movement.

  “What happened to me?” She clutched a pillow to her chest.

  “You were in a terrible auto accident, dear.” The nurse hesitated, her gaze sliding away.

  Hayley felt her heart stop for a second. The monitor above her bed began to hum. When her pulse started again, her heart beat heavy against her chest.

  “W-What happened to my friend, Jay?”

  The nurse looked uncomfortable, like she didn’t want to discuss Jay’s fate. “I don’t want to upset you, Hayley. Not when you’ve come so far in the last couple days.”

  “Please.” Hayley grabbed the nurse’s hand. “I need to know.”

  “I’m afraid your friend wasn’t as lucky as you were.” She took Hayley’s hand and squeezed. “He didn’t make it, Hayley. The crash killed him. I’m so sorry.”

  He’s in Hell. I saw him. Hayley’s tears renewed with force. Liquid heat scorched her cheeks. Why had he died and not her? Why not her? Then she’d be with Dante.

  She curled her body into a tight ball and cried. Her best friend, gone. Dante, gone. What did she have to live for?

  Yourself.

  The voice, echoing through her mind, sounded familiar. She tried to recognize it, but couldn’t. The encouragement offered gave her hope. She had to live for herself. She would get better, and life would go on.

  After a while, Hayley’s tears dried and she slept. She didn’t see the angel who stood guard over her bed, or feel the soft brush of his fingers across her brow. Michael had charged him with her safety, and he would not betray the warrior’s faith. He closed his eyes to focus on his brothers’ battle.

  * * * * *

  “Bolt the gate and post the first sentry.” Dis looked out over the parking lot of the House of Purgatory. “Zeus and Hades know by now that their plan to use Hayley has failed.” Dis motioned to the gate. “We need to be prepared when they attack.”

  Michael’s gaze turned somber. “How do you think they’ll approach?”

  “There’s only one way in.”

  His brother surveyed the landscape. Michael might be a mastermind in the ways of strategic warfare, but so was Hades. There might be only one way into Hell, but the gods and their army would attack with everything they had.

  Michael assessed the parking lot. “Their element of surprise ended when they lost Hayley.”

  From behind them, a ruckus arose. Demons moved left and right to allow a bearded individual through the line, followed by another of Dis’s brothers, Gabriel.

  Dis stiffened; the hair on his neck rose in warning. It’d been a long time since they’d been together, and at the time, they had not been fighting on the same team. “So, it’s a family reunion. Where’s Raphael?”

  Dis could forgive his younger brother, Raphael, who only followed orders. Orders from Michael, or Gabriel, the angel of death and destruction.

  “Michael gave him a babysitting job at the last minute.” Gabriel shot a look filled with distaste at their older brother.

  The memory of brutal torture, and eventually a sword piercing his heart, forced an
involuntary grimace. Dis fought the urge to touch his chest. He would not let Gabriel gain any satisfaction from his memory of their last encounter.

  In front of Charon, a blue-green figure shifted his feet. Dis recognized the demon who had danced with Hayley. Anger swirled with jealousy, rising like bile in his throat. He growled. This day just gets better and better.

  “What are you doing with him, Charon?”

  “Making sure you have all the culprits, Magician.” He shoved the demon forward.

  The blue monster landed on bended knees in front of Dis, his head bowed in supplication. “Master, I beg of you, do not listen to what this old man says. I have served you faithfully for many a year.”

  Blue-veined hands grasped Dis’s leather pants leg.

  “Quiet.” He shook his leg free and turned to Charon. “Well, what’s going on?”

  “This one had orders to lure your woman away in order for Talos to kidnap her.” Charon planted a boot in the demon’s back and shoved. “’Cept they didn’t count on your big brother showing up and diverting their plan.”

  Dis bent and grabbed the demon by his blue-black goatee. With one yank, he had the demon face to face. “Served me loyally, huh?”

  Dis threw the infidel to the ground and raised his hand, letting a fireball build in his palm. A band of iron clasped around his wrist. He turned to see Michael’s hand around him.

  “Wait, brother. Let us see if he has more information.”

  Dis hesitated. The bastard deserved the never-ending flames of Hell for what he’d done, but -- his nostrils flared with resentment -- they needed to question the demon first.

  “I’m not telling you anything, angel.” The demon spit upon the ground near Michael’s booted foot.

  Stillness descended around them. Everyone held their breath as Michael cocked his head to the side and narrowed his gaze. The action might look minute to the untrained eye, but Dis knew his brother wasn’t amused by the demon’s bravado. Michael might be an angel, but he was no pussycat. An example would be made.

  Solid beams, whiter than the eye of any flame, flashed from both Michael’s and Gabriel’s eyes and mouths, catching the demon’s insolent gaze. A scream of agony ripped from the creature. His body rose into the air and spun around, higher and faster, until he hit the top of the cavern. The sound of bones crunching created a gasp of fear from the army of demons gathered around them. They would remember the ancient war when Michael and Gabriel had cast them down from Heaven to earth.

  Dis knew what pain wracked the demon’s body, having experienced the same tortures when he had been captured by Gabriel years ago. Afterwards, Michael had cast what was left of his abused body, torn and bloody, into the fiery pits of Hell.

  A shudder passed through him at the memory. He wondered how long the vile being could hold out against the mental interrogation the angels of war and destruction plied upon him.

  “Enough. I’ll tell you what you need to know!”

  Not long. The beams of light vanished. The demon’s body fell twenty feet to the stone floor, where he lay crumpled and twisted. No soul stepped forward to help their brother, his limbs mangled and broken. When he reached out to them with a shaking, grasping hand, two or three demons stepped further back into the crowd. Dis knelt down beside the torn body. Any compassion he might have had lay buried by the demon’s betrayal. This one deserved what he received.

  “What is their plan, demon?”

  A hand grasped at his arm, leaving a charred and bloody smear across his tattoo. The demon’s eyes glazed, but he opened his mouth to answer, his voice a mere whisper.

  Dis leaned closer to catch the dying words.

  “T-They cannot defeat the faithful.” A shudder escaped the demon’s body before the remnants of his soul seeped from his being in a darkened shadow, to be absorbed by the demons who stood nearest. Their forms tightened in response, like the first stage of rigor mortis. In a matter of seconds, the shell of the deformed body combusted into flames and the other demons’ catatonic states relaxed.

  “Well, what the fuck did he mean by that?” Gabriel’s voice oozed with frustration.

  Dis pulled free of the clinging corpse and stepped away from the putrid fumes, black as soot, rising to the cavern’s ceiling. Around him he could hear several souls cough from the smell of burning flesh.

  Michael clapped Gabriel on the back with a smile. “Simple, little brother. We need a host of faithful souls to defend the gate.”

  “Right, and I bet you and old Sam here know where we can find these souls in the next five seconds, because here comes Hades.”

  Across the parking lot, eerie black shadows carrying swords and shields rose from beneath the asphalt to stand eight feet tall.

  Michael turned. “Shit. Hoplite swords.”

  Gabriel’s shoulders straightened. “All right, Hades.” A gleam of anticipation entered his eye. “These swords have a dual purpose, boys. Cutting flesh and thrusting deep into your opponent’s body.” He laughed.

  “The pagan demons’ main objective will be to push through our lines using a downward cut to increase the force of their blows.” Gabriel stepped forward. His fingers curled around the bone haft of a foot-long knife strapped to the outside of his left leg.

  “Still like to get up close and personal, huh?”

  Gabriel smiled. His blue eyes sparkled. “Always.” He stepped closer, his mouth millimeters from Dis’s. “As you should well remember.”

  Long repressed fear rose, hot and rancid, in the pit of his stomach, but Dis stood his ground. Gabriel pulled the thick, curved blade from its sheath and angled the cool metal close enough that Dis could feel the whisper across his neck.

  “Ah, the curve of the khukuri fits nicely to your neck -- the optimal target ... skeeeek.”

  A wave of nausea followed the surge of fear as Gabriel pulled the blade parallel with Dis’s neck and made a slicing sound. A thin film of sweat formed across his forehead as vivid memories of his punishment for loving a human rose in his mind’s eye. Gabriel’s cool lips touched his cheek; he jumped.

  “The ultimate symbol of Shiva.”

  From the deeper recesses of his mind, he heard Dante scream, Kick that bastard’s ass! Dis shook his head and forced himself to speak, still refusing to give Gabriel the satisfaction of acknowledging past tortures. “The Creator should have made you satan since you have so much in common with the Hindu god of war.”

  Gabriel laughed; the blade disappeared. “You think so?”

  Unbelievable. Dis marveled at the genuine pleasure in his brother’s voice. “You are a sick motherfu--”

  “They’re advancing!” Michael’s voice cut into their discussion.

  Dis forgot the nightmares of his past, moving behind the first sentry. “Demons, form a line. Spears up, shields out.” He rapped hard on one shield, testing the readiness of the demon holding the weapon. “These bastards fight like Greeks.”

  “Exactly, Master.” One demon turned frightened eyes to him. “They were the most feared of all warriors in ancient times.”

  Dis moved closer. “You will just have to fight like Romans, the conquerors of the Greeks.” He grasped the demon’s shoulder and squeezed, trying to offer encouragement to a fellow soldier.

  The demon nodded and returned to formation. The line raised their shields and spears. As one, the demons of Hell stomped their feet, creating a sound like thunder. In between hisses and moans, a chant erupted; the line moved forward. “Hail Satan, prince of darkness, annihilation to his enemies.”

  Gabriel frowned. “Damn. That makes every hair on my body stand up.”

  The line advanced in unison; the chant grew louder.

  Michael moved beside Dis. “The idea is to show fealty to the Maker.”

  Dis shrugged at his brothers’ discomfort. “To believe in me, the devil, they would have to believe in Him, also. That combines both our magicks.”

  Michael hesitated, then shook his head. “Warped logic, as usual.”


  Dis shrugged. “A different way of looking at things.”

  A hideous sound, emitting from the pagan demons’ open mouths, screeched across the night wind to send a chill of dread down his spine. This could very well be the end of the world, not only for him, but for Hayley, too. He clutched his sword tighter.

  He grasped Michael by the shoulders and faced him. “You and I and everyone here are faithful souls. We believe in the Creator. The faithful --” He nodded toward his demons. “-- also believe in satan -- me. As long as we all believe in both entities, we can defeat the ancient gods. They are nothing to us.”

  As he spoke the words, the truth hit Dis like a blow to the gut. He might not agree with his Creator’s ideas of right or wrong, but he did believe in God. So did every soul in the House of Purgatory.

  Michael nodded, slowly, his eyes narrowed in understanding.

  “Okay, men, weapons ready. On my mark, we attack.” Dis raised his gaze to the heavens and cast a rusty prayer. Please, for Hayley’s sake.

  He glanced at Michael and Gabriel. His brothers’ eyes glowed with the excitement of battle. Dis smiled. Once they had fought each other. Now they fought side by side. Pride, not jealousy, for his siblings choked him. He swallowed the foreign emotions, raised his sword, and shouted. “For the kingdom!”

  “For the kingdom!” echoed around him in response.

  For Hayley. He looked at Michael, who nodded, and knew his brother had the same thought.

  “Onward!”

  “What the fuck are they doing?” Hades mumbled and frowned, stalking around the rear flank of his battalion. He searched the front line and beyond, trying to discern Michael’s tactic.

  The angelic demons had formed cubes in multiple rows. Their spears extended from all sides, and their shields covered their bodies like the plates of an armadillo. Their unearthly chant interspersed with demonic groans rose above the war cries of his demons.

  Zeus stopped beside him. “I wish they’d stop that forsaken chanting.” He closed his eyes and covered his ears. “Makes my skin crawl the way they’re calling down his power.”