She found herself making good progress until the bridge suddenly shook beneath her feet and swayed from side to side. This caused her to hurriedly grab onto the ropes lining the bridge, only realizing to her dismay that they were indeed anything but twine. The metal barbs gouged her palms, making her issue a quick yelp and instinctively pull her hands away only to nearly topple over from the swaying motion that still plagued the bridge. Before her body could make sufficient contact with the barbed wire from her unsteady stance, she was caught by her arm and pulled backwards by a vice-like grip. In moments she was roughly lifted up into the man’s arms as he looked down and shook his head at her disdainfully.
***
Belial had decided that civility towards this female was unavoidable, since Lucifer had instructed him to take care of her. So with that in mind, he chivalrously insisted that she enter the bridge first, forced behavior though it was in his current brooding mood. He watched from behind as she slowly took the first few steps, no doubt testing the boards for weaknesses, and then nodding his satisfaction, he stepped onto the bridge and began to walk after her. He was not aware of the ripples that he caused, as he was looking down below the bridge at the warm glow of flames beckoning from the recesses of the dark pit. From that distance, it resembled a pool of lava. Molded together, sliding over the rocks below and crashing into the sides of the cliffs. He watched it thoughtfully as he walked.
When he heard a cry of protest, he looked up to find the girl staring at her hands in disbelief for a second before losing her balance altogether. Apparently his weight on the bridge combined with his gait had caused some commotion that she had been unprepared for.
Sighing, he made his way to her swiftly and caught her by the back of her upper arm. He pulled her back to steady her, but then decided to spare himself the trouble of dealing with her awkwardness a second time and lifted her up, one arm across her back and the other under her knees. Lustful desire for her supple flesh failed to bloom as he held her near, proving that his mood truly had gone sour for the time being, as it was his usual reaction to induce stunning visuals of sexual practices within the minds of the individuals he so longed to seduce, making it that much easier for him to ravish his prey after they surrendered their bodies to him willingly. He did notice upon lifting her that she was not as light as she appeared to be. He was no weakling, though, and managed with little effort as she looked up at him, a bit apologetically.
He shook his head in frustration and voiced his opinion aloud without thinking much, “I do hope you will not be more trouble than you are worth.” She said nothing by way of reply, so he carried her for the rest of the way, placing her gently back on her feet as he stepped off the bridge.
***
His comment upon scooping her up had irritated her more than anything previous and she wished heartily that she could have retorted accordingly. However, she decided that would not be wise since she was still in close proximity to that prison and she did not want to go back. If she upset him enough he might just toss her back in there and leave her there to rot, so to speak. And she did not know anything about this...man, not even his name, so she thought it best to play it safe, at least for a while. So in the place of a equally rude remark, she simply gave him a sorrowful look before removing her eyes from his scornful gaze and clung to his neck for security as he closed the distance between them and the opposite cliff.
And scornful or not, this guy was a hunk. She may have stopped looking into his eyes, but that didn’t mean she could pull her gaze away from the rest of him. Long, illuminated hair that looked as if it had been spun from silk, and surely felt like it as well, a virile profile befitting only that of a love god, a powerful neck, which she could discern only because she was gripping it tightly, all combined with strong hands and a body made for sin, at least the upper half that she had come in contact with. He set her down gently as soon as they reached solid ground, much to her dislike as the splinters lodged in the underside of her feet felt like needles invading her sensitive nerves.
She was always surprised by this physical sensation in the hereafter. She had been mortal once, long ago, and had always believed that there were no physical sensations in the afterlife, since the physical body is left behind on the Earth’s ground. Upon her entrance to Heaven, she had paid not much attention to any physical sensation and concerned herself with the elated bliss one feels in its shroud.
She found her previous beliefs proven wrong after arriving at her current destination. This place had no goodness in it. There was no purity and grace in which to lose yourself. If anything, it seemed as if physicality was heightened here so one would feel all the necessary actions that were inflicted upon oneself for crimes committed in life, and death. That’s what this place was, after all. An eternity of atonement, though forgiveness was a far cry from what anyone received here. The punishment fit the crime, mirrored one’s life until that person could no longer glimpse his reflection for fear that their sins would haunt them from the other side of the mirror, infinitely. This was the place where the soul was faced with its own reflection.
Most she had seen could not handle it. But she had been equipped by a higher power upon accepting the mission with the history of a self-serving existence and the quality of not regretting anything. One of the select few that could not, or would not, break. And that was why, she supposed, she was here with this strange man going to an even stranger place instead of slaving down in the lower regions like many other unfortunates. She considered being grateful for this before realizing the immense possibility that even greater torment may lay in wait for her around the bend. She followed the blond in a trance-like manner, wallowing in her thoughts as she limped along the path. Where am I going? Why am I going? Who is this man? Should I use magic to try and escape and to locate the relic? Or is he more powerful than that? Questions were running through her mind as she chewed on her full lower lip. She realized she urgently needed the answers, but at this point, she was not quite sure how to bring them up. She stared at the mass of blond hair bouncing in front of her as he walked. Obviously he was only interested in leading the way and did not have time for her, the lowly prisoner. She scoffed slightly and cleared her throat.
“Pardon me,” she said trying to get his attention. It didn’t work, so she sped up her pace until she was almost next to him, but he continued to ignore her presence.
“Hello, you there. Yes, you,” she continued, a bit louder. She was tempted to simply tap his shoulder, but again decided against physical contact, as it seemed to only propel her toward impure thoughts.
He stopped abruptly, and turned to face her, the manner in which he did so reflected that he did not wish to be there in the slightest. She could read it on his profile before he even finished his turn. His features were set in stone and they were stern. Sheer annoyance was clearly visible as it was etched into the lines around his cupid lips. Even with all this she couldn’t help but feel the strange attraction to him start to creep in. He regarded her with a raised eyebrow, though one could barely see it since the pale hairs nearly swam into his even paler flesh, and leaned on one leg with his arms hanging limply at his sides.
“Yes?” he asked impatiently.
“I realize you don’t seem like the talkative type, but could you at least do me the courtesy of revealing your name and rank to me?” she asked, acting just as impatient in her manner.
His mocking eyebrow lowered itself as his steel gaze turned a bit warmer, his stance relaxed some and he spoke with a hint of a smile behind his words, “Forgive me for not accommodating you in a more gentlemanly fashion, miss. Recent events have left me in a rather foul mood which only leads to my undignified manner. I do hope you are not cross with me for what I said on the bridge. Please accept my humble apologies, my lady,” he finished by taking her right hand in his gloved one and bringing it to his lips, placed a cool kiss below her knuckles.
His smile grew as he stared at her from his slightly bent position, and
charming as it was, she wasn’t sure what to make of his sudden change in manner. She was a bit flustered by his gaze, though. He really did have a hypnotizing stare that even she had to admit. And a firm grip, his leather-clad thumb moving in slight circles across her knuckles. Then she realized he had never answered her questions. Her expression grew serious and she removed her hand from his grasp suddenly, noting the surprised expression which crossed his face momentarily at the contact being prematurely executed. She straightened her body and held her chin high as he did, though she was not sure if she conveyed quite the haughty pose that he did.
“Apology has been accepted, now please answer the questions…sir.” She was not about to let herself be played by physical enticement.
He slowly raised himself up to his full height, which Mara perceived as being average, he was not too tall or too short but merely…perfect. He regarded her with a look of amusement. Apparently he had fully recovered from his shock moments before. Has any one ever said no to his advances? Mara wondered silently while waiting for his reply.
“Yes, of course. I am Belial, my rank is unimportant where you are concerned, let’s leave it at that, shall we?” he answered, businesslike.
Her eyes widened a bit at the mention of his name. All previous thoughts she had of escaping quickly left her mind, as she realized that the demon standing in front of her was a legend in this world and the next. Most all had heard of him, but few had glimpsed him, especially in recent times. It was known that he was not fond of keeping company with lower demons, which was a common prejudice among the first orders. They felt their high ranks and seniority permitted them to look down upon all others, casting contemptuous glances their way like hot coals.
Belial was no different, though his prejudices evidently did not keep him from his many conquests, as his lothario reputation was much discussed among the more attractive female spirits. Mara had not been above eavesdropping on their conversations while down by the furnaces for the first couple days after her arrival. And now he was standing no more than two feet away from her. She was speechless. She did know one thing; his identity certainly explained the attraction. He was the controller of carnal instincts in mankind. She could only imagine the hold he had over his own peers. Fortunately he must have read her expression and decided that his answer was good enough because he turned back to his walk. When she didn’t follow, he turned back and grabbed her hand to pull her along in tow, oblivious to the fact that she stood there gaping.
She barely noticed any of the weather changes along the path as she walked. She was too busy thinking. Thinking, that was her problem in her opinion, she always thought too much and did too little. That was why she took the mission, one of the reasons at least. She wanted a chance to prove herself wrong and to overcome her shortcomings. So she was currently being escorted to an unknown destination for an unknown reason by a very powerful, high order demon. An attractive demon as well, which were hard to come by.
Big surprise, as he is the crowned prince here, she thought sarcastically. She cursed silently for even bringing up his status as a lady-killer as that fact certainly did not help her one bit and tried to purge the thought from her mind. But to no avail. It was far too difficult at the moment, with his heavy hand clasped in hers and his domineering presence threatening to overcome her uncharacteristically passive one. She just hoped he wouldn’t turn around and lock his eyes onto her again, since she was presently traveling her gaze from his head to his toes.
Not much was available to her path of vision, however, since there wasn’t much light where they were at and because his cloak covered nearly his entire figure. His pointy boots were visible as he stalked down the path, gathering some dust and dirt along the way, but he never slowed. The rest of his body was enshrouded; only his graceful neck and head peaked out from the dark clothing. As she studied him she couldn’t help but wonder what a stunning visual he would provide without so many garments weighing him down. Much better, she presumed, than the ones she had glimpsed while serving as Charun’s assistant down in the torture chambers. She also had the feeling that he would know his way around her anatomy far more superiorly than most others as well and began to wonder how is hands felt beneath those gloves. Were they hot as fire? Or were they as cold as ice? Mara spent several minutes imagining each possibility against her skin as her imagination played with visuals of his mysterious flesh rubbing her own body down, smearing it with heated oils and licking off the excess with feverish passion. She shivered slightly at these thoughts and decided it was time for some conversation, perhaps it would deter her from having any more wayward fantasies for the time being.
“Where are we going? Am I to be taken to the emperor straight away?” she asked, her voice cracking a bit.
“You will be delivered to Lucifer in good time. Unfortunately, he is currently away from his domicile and I cannot send you there alone; he would not approve. So, you are to stay in my chambers for the night, until he returns,” he said matter-of-factly while turning his head to her side. He knew it was a blatant lie, but he also knew she had no way of knowing that. He had plans of his own for the younger spirit that he would carry out before handing her over to Lucifer.
His chambers? There was another blast of information she was not prepared for. I have to stay with Belial? That was not part of the plan. Snooty, powerful, arrogant, and attractive Belial? What could be more difficult than that?
***
Mara’s dawning expression at Belial’s introduction had not been lost on him. He latched onto it immediately and decided to use it to his advantage. Her manner somewhat confused him, though. From what he remembered from the meeting earlier, Mara had been described as a fiery vixen. Upon their introduction however, he had been under the impression that she was far from that description. She was so quiet and acted quite submissive mostly, except for the quick attempt at authority when she all but demanded his answers to her questions. She had almost been cute.
I better torture something soon, I cannot allow myself to think of anything as cute, he thought as he pulled her behind him wishing she would pick up the pace. He also knew exactly what she was doing in back of him, though she had no clue he knew. He was not that dense, he felt her eyes upon him. Besides, it’s what they all do. He was content that he now had something to alleviate his boredom, if only for a short while and he did admit to being just a little curious. He wondered if that wild spirit lay dormant inside that petite body of hers, taking refuge behind the tame exterior. He spent the remainder of the walk figuring out just how to bring that spirit out of rest and into his grasp. Oh, the potential that she was hiding, he could only imagine. There was so much to be taught, and he had been depressing over the lack of pupils he had been faced with. But now, now he had a fine specimen within his reach and he knew it wouldn’t be long before all those imaginary pleasures become reality.
***
Hiking along the winding trail had brought Mara to near exhaustion as they reached the gates of the southern region. As the towering bars creaked open to let them pass through, Mara took one last look back. The prison stood in the far distance, creating a backdrop of malicious intent on the already dark horizon. Quite a treacherous place, she thought as she was pulled along mercilessly by Belial, black leather cold against her skin. The gates closed once again, squeaking hinges reminiscent of chalk on a blackboard piercing her ears like when she was a child on Earth. They stopped abruptly, and Mara turned to see two leathery hulks of imposing flesh before her. Belial said something to them, but she was paying no attention as the two forms stirred, separated only by their contrasting colors, the sound of joints cracking as their ancient bones moved beneath their massive muscles. The darker one rose at a faster pace than the other, which seemed to be rather arrogant in its leisurely pace. As the dark one rose to full height, Mara had to stop herself from shrinking back in reverence.
Its flesh, full of shiny mordant scales, was the color of midnight. Its arched back faced her and it
s horned head sprang up to the side as its elongated mouth opened wide to reveal rows of acute teeth. She glimpsed them briefly just before orange flames erupted from the far recesses of the creature’s mouth after which it closed it with ease. The creature’s rough head turned towards her and it regarded her with eyes the same color of the flame that had just spewed from its mouth. She looked into them, realizing this creature was well-suited for his master.
Dragons, she thought, interesting choice of pet.
The more compact of the two just stood and didn’t seem to fuss over much, just regarded her silently, its amber eyes boring into her hazel ones as it stared. Though it seemed this dragon viewed her with much more interest than its partner had. It slowly bent forward until its head was directly in front of her body. Part of her was awestruck, her mind in wonderment at its mythical creation. But another part of her was thrown into a frozen state of panic at the sheer size and appearance of the beast. It tilted its head slightly to one side, as if studying her, sepia skin inches from her own much paler flesh. Without warning it snorted, expelling a blast of stagnant air from its flaring nostrils. The stench was malodorous to put it mildly, bordering on putrid, and she had to use all of her self-control to keep from gagging.
“That’s quite enough, Inigo,” Belial sighed from beside her. “I don’t need you to knock her unconscious for the ride back from your breath.” He shook his head calmly and tugged at her hand. “Come,” he continued and began walking around the side of the one he just referred to.
They came upon a carriage that was hooked up to the dragons, its front slightly dented.
Nevertheless, Mara found it quite nice.
“Up you go,” Belial insisted as he ushered her before him.
The Threshold Page 7