by SF Benson
Either way, I’ll never taste this dangerous fruit. I simply don’t do angels. The connection is the definition of sarcasm—demon does angel. Sounds like a bad porn plot. But still… I am in Hell and so is he. It’s not like I’m going to broadcast my exploits.
“You don’t know what you’re missing. When it comes to pleasures of the flesh, I do excel. After I’ve fucked you, you’ll be wishing for your own pair of wings.”
“I’ll pass,” I say, with a touch of regret. If I give in, I might lose my chance to return to Falls Creek. Like I said, I’m not ready to assume my position as ruler of Hell. Besides, I can only imagine the rumors—the Prince of Hell was fucked by an angel of temptation. Not good.
“Too bad.” His deep, rich voice wraps around me like an embrace.
Too bad indeed. His sculpted muscles make his black T-shirt look like a second skin. I’m reconsidering when the door opens again and that voice drifts in.
“Colt! Colt! There you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere…” Her voice drones on.
She is just one of many females Grandfather paraded before me with the hope of making me happy. Unfortunately, I gave in and fucked her. Ended up with a bad case of friction burns and a raging headache. She won’t shut up. She can’t. Even a dick in her mouth didn’t shut her up. She tried to talk around it. A muffled sound I hope never to hear again.
As a human, she thought she didn’t need to listen to anyone but herself. Now, she’ll spend eternity listening to her own endless voice. Unfortunately, it’s also torture for anyone left in a room with her—non-stop chatter all day and night.
How the hell did she get in here?
“Time for me to go,” I say to the dark angel.
“Another time.” He shoots me a sexy grin before I leave.
Unfortunately, the condemned chatterbox follows me from the lounge and out the front door of the club. The changelings keeping guard cover their ears with their hands. That explains everything. She literally talked her way in.
I rush through the fiery corridors, twisting and turning through the maze, but the chatterbox continues on. Finally, I push open the door to my room and slam it shut. Her voice fades behind the layers of reinforced steel.
I’m so grateful Grandfather gave me my own space. He thought it would brighten my mood. Right now, it provides a great escape.
Chapter Two
Colt
In the ensuing quiet, Mother’s words come back to me. Soon I’ll have to return home and face my father. Although I despise Hell, being here has given me a respite from his constant torture. Where Grandfather dotes on me and will do anything for me—I’m his favorite grandchild—Father despises me and will do anything to me—I’m his fucked up spawn.
Father considers me a worthless sack of shit who’ll never amount to much. He has never approved of how I lead my life. After all, fluidity won’t gain me a quality female consort and future offspring. Mother has always shared his low opinion of me. The time we’ve spent together in the realm, however, does make me wonder if it’s all an act to please Father. If it is, it’s damned convincing.
For years I tolerated their combined ridicule. My self-assured demeanor was easily confused with arrogance. I thought I could take on the world and not have it slap me back. Then Father worked to shake my confidence. His intense torment combined with Mother’s nagging are the real reasons why I kidnapped Qadira. I just wanted it all to stop.
Lying back on the king-sized bed, I stare up at the stalactite ceiling. I’ve studied the sharp, pointy protrusions every day for… I pull back the dark, heavy curtain covering the faux window and count the bloody hash marks.
Thirty.
I’ve been in Hell for thirty days.
I also know the number of lavacicles hanging overhead—exactly one hundred and eighty of various lengths. What would happen if I knocked them down? Would smoke drift out? Or would Hell collapse in on itself? That would be a sight to see.
Someone raps on my door, and I drop the heat-resistant fabric. “Who is it?”
“Your grandfather.”
“Come in,” I say, thankful it’s not the chatterbox.
The metal barrier to the rest of Hell creaks open. A dense cloud of heat sneaks in first, followed by my grandfather. He’s dressed in his greeting-souls attire—black suit, black shirt, and a blood-red tie like an exclamation point. Grandfather’s long, black hair is gathered at the nape of his neck. That’s not normal. He only pulls it back when he’s going up amongst humans.
“Colton.” His solemn greeting matches his expression. I’ve never seen Grandfather smile.
“Grandfather.” My eyes drift over his frame. The pleats in his slacks are a little too sharp. There’s starch in the shirt collar. He’s definitely dressed to go up. Wonder what soul requires his personal touch today? “Going somewhere?”
“Yes. I’m escorting you back home today,” he says as if it should be obvious.
I do a double-take. “What about Mother?”
“Sybil is content here.” Grandfather inclines his head. “Between the two of us, I think she prefers Hell over living with my son.”
Understatement. Like I said earlier, I really don’t want to return to my father’s version of purgatory. “What if I don’t want to go home?”
Grandfather lifts an eyebrow. “You wish to stay here with me? You’re more than welcome to do so. Is it my newest dark angel persuading you to stay?”
“No, it’s not.” I shake my head, although parts of my anatomy don’t agree. But even a few hours of bliss with that handsome demon wouldn’t change my truth. “I just don’t want to go home.”
“Then don’t go.” Grandfather holds his palms out. “If I recall correctly, you do have an apartment.”
“Had. Father kept showing up at all hours, tormenting me.” My shoulders slump forward. “So, I gave it up. Moved back home and took my torture like a man.”
Grandfather’s silvery eyes narrow. “You do realize you’re not a man?”
Holding onto the sarcastic retort resting on the tip of my tongue, I reply, “Don’t remind me.”
As Grandfather takes a seat beside me, the smell of sulfur flickers beneath my nose. “Is that your problem? Do you think life would be easier for you as a human?”
“It has to be better than this, Grandfather.” I sigh, side-glancing at him. “No offense.”
“None taken.” He purses his lips for a moment. “What if you could live as a human, what would you do differently?”
I shrug. How am I supposed to answer something I’ve never considered? “Not sure. But at least I’d be free to find out without interference from my parents.”
“Understood, but is there something specific you desire?”
Grandfather’s words sound as hopeless as I feel. “I can’t answer your question. All I can say is I’m tired of feeling this way.”
“And how is that?”
“Lost. Alone.” I take a deep breath, attempting to calm the storm waiting to erupt. “If I keep this up, I won’t make it. Grandfather, I’d rather give up living than feeling empty all the time.”
He pats my knee. “You’re not dying anytime soon. I think I can help you by doing what your great-grandfather did for me years ago.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to grant your wish.”
My head rocks up. “Huh? What wish?”
Grandfather stands and stretches. “When I was your age, I, too, was at a crossroads unsure of what I wanted. Frankly, I sucked at being a demon. Couldn’t agonize a hellhound, but my father wouldn’t let me give up. He said I just needed to find myself. He thought if I took a little holiday, I’d come back renewed and ready to assume my duties.”
“Did it work?” I ask sheepishly.
“Where do you think your father got his skills from?” Grandfather rests a hand on my shoulder. “This will be good for you.”
Moths erupt in my stomach. I’ve never handled change well even if it has
the potential to be positive. “What exactly is going to happen?”
“Don’t worry.” An eerie expression—maybe it’s a long-lost smile or even a grimace, hard to tell—crosses his face. “It’s only for thirty days. Go live amongst humans as a man. Discover what you truly want in this world. I’ll restore your supernatural status after your time is up.”
“You can do that?” I rub the back of my neck, astonished at what he’s telling me. “But why?”
“To answer your first question—I’m Ashmedai, King of Hell. Who will tell me I can’t do something?”
“True.” I’m sure anyone who has ever questioned Grandfather’s actions is no longer alive.
“I’ve watched you during your time here, Colton. You’re miserable. Your agony rivals some of the poor souls cast into my kingdom. My grandson, a prince destined to rule one day, shouldn’t experience such pain.”
“But—”
Grandfather holds his hand up. “I’ve seen your dreams and heard your thoughts too. Besides granting your wish, I’ll have a talk with my son about the shit he’s filled your mind with.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I mutter.
“Yes, I do.” His brow furrows. “Demons only torment their own when it’s needed. You’ve done nothing to deserve it. Khan’s treatment went beyond what’s normal or acceptable. Trust me, his time is coming. Until it does, accept my gift and use it well.”
Fearing a very real possibility, I say, “What happens if, at the end of my time, nothing’s changed? What if I’m still lost?”
“You won’t be,” Grandfather replies with a gleam in his eye.
Making deals is something he enjoys. Maybe it’s time for me to make my own arrangement with him. “Grandfather, I’ll make you a deal.”
He cocks his head to one side. “I’m listening.”
“If at the end of thirty days I’m no different, I’ll gladly return to Falls Creek and do whatever I need to do as a royal incubus. But…” I need to phrase the alternative carefully.
“But what, Colton?”
“But if I do change… if I’m finally happy…” A ball of fear, so immense it rivals the one Sisyphus is charged with, forms in my stomach. My mouth goes dry and the words lodge in my throat. Unless I utter them, the deal is just a thought. All bargains made with Grandfather must be verbalized and sealed with blood. Squeezing my eyes shut, I force the letters together until the request bubbles up my throat. “I stay human.”
Grandfather’s eyebrows knit together. He exhales and a wisp of smoke curls from his lips. “I’ve never denied you anything, Colton, but—”
“But you’re denying me this.” My heart sinks with the statement. Of course, I can’t have a way to escape my father’s torture.
“Let me finish.” He leans close and says in a lowered voice, “Out of all my grandchildren, Colton, you know you’re my favorite. As much as it pains me to grant your wish, it hurts more seeing you suffer at the hands of your father. He will not enjoy the agony I inflict upon him.”
Nice sentiment, but it doesn’t change facts. “What do I do in the meantime?”
“In the meantime, I’ll grant your request with conditions.”
Naturally, he’d place stipulations on it. He didn’t get to be the King of Hell by being lenient. “Go ahead.”
Grandfather clasps his hands behind his back. “First off, there will be no sealing this transaction with blood. I’m giving you an automatic way out.”
“But—”
“I’ll uphold my end of the bargain,” he continues. “After all, I am a demon of my word. What would it look like if I reneged on promises?” He paces the well-worn floor—I may have worked a few extra grooves in it since being here. “Second, in order to remain human, you will need to prove to me you can live as one.”
“How?” An icy panic creeps into my chest.
“Show me the trappings of humanity—a means to earn money, a place to live, friends, and someone special to share those things with. If you fail in any of those areas, you return to Falls Creek and live out your days as an incubus. You’ll make monthly trips to Hell to begin your training to rule after I’m gone.”
Hell without my grandfather? He’s existed for a thousand years. Surely, he’ll be here another millennium. I’m sure there’s more, and I hate to ask. But I do. “Anything else?”
“I will not allow you to die or get sick. Defeats the purpose, don’t you think?” Grandfather faces me. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t put yourself in any predicament that might cause your early demise.”
It seems simple enough. Find a job and a place to live. Make some friends and find a significant other. I can do this. A ray of hope, the first one in a long time, shines on the horizon.
Grandfather raises a finger. “Before you accept the terms, there are two more things. One, there’s a number for me in your phone. Only use it if you get into a situation you can’t get out of. Something that will bring about that untimely death I mentioned. You may also use it if you change your mind and find humanity too much to deal with.”
“What’s the other thing?” I ask cautiously.
“I’m sending a guardian demon with you. Someone to report back to me on your progress.”
I frown. “Grandfather, I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Trust me, he or she will not be babysitting. Besides, you won’t know who it is.” He sinks his hands into his trouser pockets. “These are my terms. Take them or leave them.”
His conditions weren’t nearly as stringent as I thought they’d be. A pressure I didn’t know existed lifts off my chest. Could I really live like a human? If it allows me a chance to be free of my father, possibly forever, it’s worth whatever risks come with it.
Extending my hand toward Grandfather, I say, “I accept.”
His fingers surround mine in a claw-like grip. A thread of smoke rises between our flesh. Flames lick and scorch my palm, but there isn’t any real pain. The smell of burnt skin dissipates, and I withdraw my hand. The covenant is formed and bonded.
I have thirty human days to find me. Whoever that might be.
Finding Me: Another Falls Creek Romance Novel, #2 is coming April 2018. By signing up for my newsletter or joining my reader’s group on Facebook, you’ll be the first to know all the news regarding my upcoming books.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you so much for reading Edwina and Hank’s story. This one was truly a challenge to blend fiction with history. I got the chance to incorporate research—one of my favorite things to do.
As always, I thank those who continue to support me on my journey. I thank especially thank my husband for his hard work. Without it, none of this is possible. A special thank you to my daughter who contributes her opinion for each book.
I thank my editor, Tia Silverthorne Bach. You keep me in check and teach me so much.
Thank you to the cover designer, Christian Betulan! You created an outstanding work of art.
Of course, I thank Mom and Dad. Without you, where would I be?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SF Benson, a Michigan native, resides in Georgia with her husband, a human daughter, and a couple of miniature fur kids (two female short-haired guinea pigs). At one time, she wrangled a household which included three Samoyeds, saltwater fish, a hamster, and three guinea pigs. She’s an avid bookworm who appreciates a well-written book regardless of genre. SF prefers writing stories about strong, diverse protagonists set in dystopian, science fiction, or paranormal worlds.
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COMING SOON!
More supernaturals in love…
Finding Me
Letting Go
Something More
All Our Tomorrows