by Avery Rae
"Don't you dare leave on me again," I said as I started toward him. But he was already opening the door. "I swear to God, if you dare—"
"You're in the wrong place for that, Priscilla."
For the second time since I woke up in this nightmare, the door slammed shut. I let out a guttural shout and kicked the door, then jumped back as a growl rumbled from the other side. Screw you, too.
As I stared at the stone wall in front of me, I thought about a story I had found during one of my late-night insomnia-induced internet searches. There was this girl who was held captive for ten years in a windowless bunker underground. I remembered how I couldn't imagine the toll that had to have taken on her mentally. I'd only been locked away for a few hours, but I wanted to dig through the walls with my fingernails.
It wasn't being enclosed. It was that I didn't know where I was. That I couldn't even begin to predict what was going to happen. I had always been the person who knew everything. I had to know everything. Knowledge was the one thing that set me apart. The thing that made me who I was. I couldn't stand the unknown and I was in the thick of it right now.
Worst of all, I was naked. I refused to wear any more of that guy's clothing. I was still wearing the massive black towel I'd used after my shower. Luckily it was so warm in this place that it didn't really matter. Yeah, it's warm because you're in Hell, my brain whispered. I fell back into the bed with a sigh, then immediately rocketed back up when I heard the door sliding open.
When I looked toward the sound, that same growl came again. I saw the flash of fire once more, then I stiffened as an unfamiliar man slid inside and slammed the door shut. He had tousled, sunny blond hair that reached his shoulders and eyes that glowed just like Gael's. Another demon?
4
Priscilla
As if I didn't feel unsafe enough as it was, now I had a second demon to deal with, only this time I was wearing nothing but a towel. I wasn't sure if that was an upgrade or downgrade from the T-shirt with no underwear. Either way, I was painfully aware of how vulnerable I was. And I wasn't the sort of person who handled vulnerability well.
"Who the hell are you?" I bit out, my voice teetering between furious and nervous.
To my surprise, the man looked like he'd been slapped. "Damn, lady, hello to you, too. Just came to see how our newest recruit is holdin' up. I think I got my answer."
I scoffed. "Having demon blood forced into you counts as a recruitment?"
He chuckled as he walked over to the bed. My muscles tensed painfully as he came closer. He stopped at the end of the bed and folded his arms, a hip cocked to lean against it. His eyes were shining with amusement. "Using force is a way of life around here. Get used to it, buttercup."
I wasn't a fan of the way he was ogling me. I readjusted and tightened the towel around myself then gave him a narrow-eyed glare. "Listen, pumpkin, I'm barely keeping it together right now, so if you don't mind—" I gestured at the door.
"Got a bit of bite, don't you?" He flashed me a grin, then held out his hand. "I'm Zachariah. What's your name?"
I stared at his hand, bewildered for a moment. Who is this guy? Finally, I took his hand and gave him the perfect Priscilla handshake. Because God knows I had researched how best to shake hands. Diplomatic and firm, but not bone-crushingly so. "Priscilla."
"Well, Priscilla, it's a real pleasure to meet you." He looked me up and down with a noise of approval that made me recoil slightly.
"Could you not?"
He gave me a wide smile. "No offense meant."
"Why are you here? Did Gael send you to babysit me or . . . ?"
He brought a shoulder up in a lazy half-shrug. "Just curious about the girl who's got the dragon tamed." He leaned in a little closer, eyes squinted. "You got magical lady parts or somethin', like the succubus girls?"
I screwed up my face, then held out a hand. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that last part. But what's this about a dragon? Is that Gael you're talking about? Is he really that bad?"
"Bad? Nah, those of us that wrangle souls tend to be the morally gray kind. Sure, some are less—ahh—ambiguous than others, but guys like me and Gael aren't that bad. Especially Gael. They just don't want us in that heavenly playground above." He flicked his eyes up toward the ceiling, then made a point of rolling them on the way back down.
"What do you mean by 'especially Gael'?" I had some questions about wrangling souls, too, but I figured it was in my best interest to find out about my captor-slash-savior first. Whatever he was.
"Shoot, that's the boy's business. I'll let him answer that."
"How about you then? What got you a slot in Satan's army?" I asked eagerly, hoping his crimes, or sins, or whatever he did would shine some sort of light on Gael's if they were so similar.
Sadly, Zachariah just gave me another one of those easy smiles and shook his head. "Let's just say America was a real playground back when I was alive, and I had a little too much fun."
A spark of light that glinted across the surface of his eyes sent a shock of alarm through me. It was suddenly as if I had been staring into the mouth of a lion and realized it just as he was going to devour me whole.
I was in Hell, for fuck's sake. Did I really think it was a good idea to chat with some demon I didn't know? That sounded like the stupidest choice ever. I had no idea what I was doing, and it was as infuriating as it was terrifying.
I slid off the bed and eyed him warily, muscles tensed in preparation for a fight. I wasn't sure I knew how to use these muscles, but I would go down fighting if he tried anything. Being in nothing but a towel definitely wouldn't help my odds.
Catching my cagey posture and nervous glance at the towel, Zachariah clicked his tongue and shook his head. When his eyes next met mine, that strange light was gone, as if it had never even existed.
"Aw, c'mon now, I'm not gonna hurt you. Just here to bid you welcome and all that. In fact, if you want some help with that, I can fix you up." He pointed at my towel then made a weird folding motion with his fingers. "You're doin' it all wrong. Just gonna have to keep tugging it up that way."
Although it felt odd, I hesitantly moved my hand away, then lifted a brow. Hell was getting weirder by the minute. When I didn't protest, he moved closer and my heart gave a panicked little jolt when he undid the tuck I'd made. He peeled it back a fraction of an inch, then carefully folded and tucked the fabric back. He gave it a testing little pull, then flashed me a smile when it didn't move. I caught myself smiling back at the blond-haired demon.
"There you go," he said. "You're right as rain now. Don't gotta worry about flashing Gael and having him get all rabid on you."
"Too late for that," I said with a small laugh. "Do you really think he would hurt me?"
"Nah, but I do think he's got the hots for you." He ran his finger down the seam of the fold, then tugged it a little more tightly closed, his smile growing tight. "You should give him a chance."
"Give him a chance? I didn't realize Hell was a dating service. Besides, I'm pretty sure his only feelings for me are negative. I don't know if you know how I got here, but it wasn't by choice. I'm here because of him."
Those glowing eyes snapped back up to mine. "You're still breathing because of him."
Before I could reply, the door shot open with a crash. Gael strode inside, and his focus snapped to the two of us like a heat-seeking missile. The look on his face was about as explosive as one, too. "What the hell are you doing in here, Zach?"
"Just introducing myself to the new little lady." The man in question gave me a small smile and a wink, then let go of my towel with a slowness that made it seem as if he was trying to avoid any sudden movements. It was too little, too late. In a flash of blurred movement, Gael had Zachariah pinned against the wall next to his bed with a hand on Zachariah's throat.
"If I see you with your hands on her one more time, I swear I won't be this kind."
"Yeah, yeah," Zachariah replied, his voice strained. "I was just helpin' th
e girl out. I didn't realize she was your property. You're the modern kid here, so why you actin' so old-fashioned?"
Gael jerked him in close. "You know exactly why."
"Fair enough, fair enough." Zachariah held up his hands in a placating gesture. Gael let him go, then took a step back to give him just enough room to slide out from the wall. Zachariah did as much, his same smile still in place. Gael escorted him to the door. Before Zachariah walked out, he looked over his shoulder and gave me another wink. "Talk to you later, buttercup."
The air was quiet and stifled when the door slid shut. Gael's back was to me, muscles bunched in knots. What's he so angry about? Zachariah hadn't been that offensive.
"Why aren't you dressed?" he asked in a low voice.
"Because you stole my clothes?" I tugged the towel a little more tightly closed even though Zachariah had done a great job securing it in place.
"Your clothes were soaked with blood and covered in holes. If you want them, by all means, I'll go dredge them up. If you would prefer to be reasonable, I left you clothes in the bathroom."
I swallowed hard at the reminder of the night that I died. The night I became the demon I was now. In a moment of weakness, I wanted to break down. I wanted to ask him if I would ever see anyone from my old life again, even if I didn't really have anyone to go back to. It was just hard to think that I would never be normal again. I supposed that was something that you never missed until it was gone.
Instead of crumpling into a heap, I nodded and gave him a tight smile. "I'll be reasonable this once."
"I'll consider myself lucky."
You should. I went back to the bathroom and saw the folded pile of dark clothing that I had so clearly missed, nestled on a shelf just below the towels. Great, more black. True, my closet had been a sea of practical, neutral colors, but even I ventured outside the box now and then. Although, darkness came with the whole Hell territory.
I hugged the bundle of clothes to my chest as a tremble worked its way through my body—although I struggled to call it that. It didn't feel like my body anymore. I could feel the flex of muscles with each movement, movements that were more fluid and graceful than I had ever been. I couldn't imagine ever coming to terms with being a demon.
Willing away the roiling feeling in my stomach, I focused instead on changing into the clothes. Simple black jeans and a T-shirt, but they fit perfectly. I stood in front of the mirror and combed my fingers through my dark hair, all the while staring into my eyes like they were someone else's. Because they were. They were Gael's eyes.
A reminder that the blood of a demon flowed through my veins. His blood. In a way that meant I was connected to the surly asshole for eternity. If that was how long demons lived. I certainly didn't know. I was stumbling through this every step of the way. I didn't even know what questions to ask at this point. How could I?
I stepped outside of the bathroom, nearly jumping at Gael's presence as he stood there, leaning against the wall. He lifted a brow. "You ready?"
"Ready for what?"
"Your trial. My leader convinced the rest of the Tribunal to meet."
My heart picked up speed, but I tried to keep calm. "And if I say I don't want to?"
"You just expedite your way to being tortured by Ronove."
"Great." I grimaced. "Thanks for putting me in this position, by the way."
His jaw tensed, but he said nothing. He seemed pissed off that I wasn't more grateful. I didn't understand where he was coming from. Who was he? How did he find me? Why even bother saving me? None of it made sense. I was about to stand before what were apparently the oldest lieutenants in Lucifer's army and I could barely tell left from right anymore.
"Look . . ." I let out a long sigh. "Just tell me what I need to know, or do, or anything. I need something to wrap my mind around here."
"Fine. You're going to go before the Tribunal. If they deem you worthy of a trial, which they should if Samael got them this far, they will ask that you choose from one of the four factions of Hell. But I would strongly suggest that you choose to join the Brotherhood because that's the only way I can help you. And you're going to need it."
In my former life, I had always been so good at finding my place and planting roots there. I was the academic all throughout school, too busy for socializing. I was the ruthless career juggernaut who sacrificed her health, sanity, and relationships to get to the top. But I wasn't certain there was a place for someone like me among the factions of Hell—whatever they were. Especially not some Brotherhood.
"What are the others?" I asked.
He stared at me in silence for a moment, seemingly considering whether he wanted to answer me. After a tense moment, he spoke. "Ronove is the jailer of souls. Self-explanatory. Join him and you'll be given tasks ranging from torturing souls to acting like a glorified nanny."
I made a face, and he gave me a far too smug look, as if he felt like he was justified in not telling me about the other factions. Screw that. "Keep them coming."
"Berith is the leader of Hell's army. Try to join her and she'll do her best to kill you. She wants the best and her logic says the best don't die."
This wasn't getting any better. I definitely didn't want to torture anyone and I sure as hell wasn't a warrior. I narrowed my eyes at Gael. It was almost as if I didn't belong here. As if I was forced down here by some overbearing prick who thought he was allowed to take my fate into his hands.
"Lilith's faction contains the pleasure demons," he continued, unaware of my mental tirade. Not that he would care. "Joining her means you're offering yourself up to Hell's harem. If you think you'll get to be choosy, think again, because I guarantee she'll turn you into a succubus, and when you need sex to survive, well—you get a lot less picky, and there are plenty of demons down here you don't want to screw."
That didn't sound much better. "So what does the Brotherhood do then?"
"The Brotherhood is for Hell's bounty hunters. We keep things running smoothly between Hell and Earth. Souls get out. We hunt them down. Simple. And there aren't many of us, so you don't have to worry about watching your back as much. We're the select few demons that are trusted to go Earth-side."
"Your description of the Brotherhood doesn't seem to list the downsides."
"Because there aren't any."
"I can think of at least one," I replied, pointedly staring at him.
He stared at me blandly for a moment before he continued. "Like I said, it's your choice, but the obvious choice is the best one in this case. There's still a chance you'll fail, but if you don't choose a faction, you lose any chance at not becoming another soul burning for eternity. And I'm telling you for certain that you will fail at any other trial."
This was too much. Far too much. My mouth felt dry, my throat sticky. I wanted to lie down, sleep, and hope that I would wake up in a hospital somewhere. But I knew that wouldn't happen. The gears in my mind started to turn as I tried to run through every single possibility, but there were far too many things I couldn't account for. I wasn't a sadist or a warrior, and I would make for a terrible hooker, but I didn't think I would do much better as a soul-hunter either.
"If I get a trial, how long will I have to train for it?"
"All I know is that they won't give you long," he said. "They don't like it when we sire demons, so they'll do their best to make sure you fail in order to teach everyone a lesson."
"But this isn't my fault."
"Welcome to Hell."
I let out a burst of humorless laughter. "Cute. It's funny when you make jokes at my expense, because it's your fault I'm here."
"Trust me, I'm already regretting my choice."
"You really should." I didn't know what my plan was, but I walked right up to him with purpose in my movements. His entire body stiffened in response, coiling tightly as if ready to deflect an incoming attack. "Why did you even bother saving me?"
"Because I thought there might be something worth salvaging in you." He lowered his
head to meet my defiant gaze, his nose nearly brushing mine. "But, hey, we all make mistakes, don't we?"
"Go fuck yourself." Before I could even process what I was doing, I lifted my hands to his chest and shoved him with all my might. To my surprise, he staggered backwards, but not before grabbing my wrists and jerking me with him.
His back hit the wall and I slammed into his chest. Before I could right myself, he swung me around. Air was knocked out of my lungs as I collided with the wall. His lips crashed against mine, but not in a tender, romantic kiss. It was harsh and dominating. Even as confusion tore through me, my body responded in ways that made it even worse. Just as quickly as he possessed me, he jerked away.
"What's wrong with you?" I asked as I brushed the tips of my fingers over my swollen lips.
He pointed at the door. "I met Samael when I was gone. He's called the Tribunal to order. You don't want to keep your executioners waiting, do you?"
I pulled my hand away from my face as my mind went blank. "Wait, that's right now?"
For some reason, I thought I would have a little more time. But I was in Hell. It was stupid of me to think that anything would go my way. I would just have to focus on not dying for now. Considering how well that went the first time, I was probably right to be worried. The faint sting in my lips drew my attention back to Gael, but that wasn't something I could think about. Not right now. His explanation wouldn't matter if I was dead, would it?
5
Priscilla
I was about to stand before some undoubtedly horrible immortal beings that ruled over Hell, and I couldn't think of anyone less fit for such a task than me. Gael started to open the door to his room, but I placed a hand on it, making him stop. "Wait, is that thing still out there?"
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"The growling thing with the eyes."
He furrowed his brow. "Drina? No, she's not here right now."