Bat Out of Hell (Promised to the Demons Book 2)

by Lidiya Foxglove

  Variel looked around as if for an escape, or someone to whip, maybe. Now I could see just how comfortable he was with doing that.

  "Jenny!" He was shouting, and I took a step back. Before, I was angry at him, but now I felt scared. "Most of that was hundreds of years ago!"

  "Most of it!" I cried. "But that was just a couple weeks ago! Jameson still had wings a couple of weeks ago! And what have you ever done that helped anyone?”

  "I am a demon," he huffed. "A demon. I was not born to help anyone at all, and in fact, I have helped quite a lot of people, because without me, Uram would have been killed, and Gillian would probably be sold into whoredom, and Jameson would still just be a sad male harpy surrounded by female harpies and learning to read by giving sexual favors to an orcwife, and you would still be with Bernard!"

  "You're--you're horrible," I sputtered. "All of that and you're giving yourself a pat on the back? If you're so wonderful, why did all of your other servants leave as soon as you were gone? And they stole your horses too!"

  His chest heaved with a few breaths that seemed to cause him pain. He scratched his claws through his hair and let out a little hiss. "I do not know how to be...anything but a demon."

  The queen nodded at Lady Ceres, and with the impassive expression of someone concentrating on their work, she lifted one hand in my direction and the other in Variel's. I swallowed, trying to beat back my anger and sadness, but it was like trying to choke down something bitter that filled my mouth again and again.

  Lord Variel let out a scream, and his back arched. Lady Ceres seemed to be causing him pain.

  I froze. Was this the punishment?

  I felt her magic brushing me, feeding on my emotions somehow.

  And then, Variel began to change.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jenny

  Lord Variel stumbled and then bent to his knees, as he clutched his head. His horns were growing, and his body was contorting, his feet tearing through his shoes as he grew talons. His hair was growing out, and becoming coarser, running down his neck and encroaching on his face, and even as he tried to clutch his head through what seemed like great pain, his hands started melting away from him, turning into long single claws. His arms were spreading, growing into wings like huge black-brown bat wings.

  He wasn't turning into a bat, but the most terrifying demon an artist could envision. The red in his eyes consumed the pupils and the whites until they were just a vivid, fiery red. Even his tail grew spikes at the end, like a mace. His hair melded with fur that covered his back and shoulders and framed his face like sideburns. This was all quite visible since the transformation had torn up his clothes.

  And like Jameson in his harpy form, he didn't have hands, or even toes, just claws. Every part of him was now a sharp weapon, capable of nothing but blunt destruction.

  "This is how Jenny sees fit to judge you," Queen Morgana said.

  I was starting to worry I might pee myself. I could hardly watch Variel lift his head from the ground and look in the mirror.

  "Jenny..." Variel let out a sound that was somewhere between a grunt, a growl, and a wail. "I am this much a monster!?"

  "I didn't do anything. I wasn't thinking anything. I--"

  "Don't be ashamed of what has transpired," Queen Morgana said. "Lord Cyrus says your heart is very pure. Your subconscious will show a true vision of Lord Variel's actions."

  I saw Bevan standing up from his seat, his hand slapped to his head, looking like he wasn't sure if he should rush to my side or intervene somehow.

  I don't think any of us knew what to do.

  "Will I now be trapped in this form forever?" Lord Variel asked, getting to his feet slowly, testing out his altered shape. His wings seemed heavy, and I thought he might be shaking the same as I was.

  "Not necessarily," Lady Ceres said. "But you will have to find your own way back to what you were."

  I was hugging myself. A part of me wanted to tell them to put him back to the way he was.

  Another part of me felt that Variel had humiliated everyone around him. High demons lived very selfishly, and maybe it wouldn’t hurt him to know how it felt.

  Bevan finally came down the stairs and looked at me from the edge of the stage. He looked so very gallant in the faery suit that was tailor-made for his tall grace. His eyes were supportive, and showed that he didn't think it was very fair to put me in this position.

  I wonder what Variel will do, where he can go. I wanted to say something to him as he was leaving, but I didn’t know what it could possibly be, and he just swept off the stage, sending faeries rushing out of his way. He won't be able to build another cabin now. And the faeries seem just as suspicious of him as the Ethereals, but he’s still barred from Sinistral, so he has to find somewhere to live…

  "Piers Nicolescu, please come forward," Queen Morgana said.

  I had to do this again?

  Piers knew what was coming now, and so did I. He had a very different air from Variel. Variel was defiant to the last moment, insisting that he was only doing what a demon should. Piers knew he had messed up. He walked right down the steps, unhesitating but stoic.

  "Do your worst to me, Jenny," he said. Almost like he wanted me to turn him into a monster.

  I wondered what sort of monster my mind would conjure for Piers. I didn't know what was coming for Variel until it happened. Now the audience was looking curious, and I didn't like that this was turning into entertainment for the faeries.

  "Piers, it is your turn to look into the mirror now," Queen Morgana said.

  Piers looked into the glass and the first vision was of his childhood self, a skinny blond boy holding a sugar glider in his hands, screaming at him. His face was red, tears pouring down his eyes. He had his back against a brick wall.

  The sugar glider disappeared as if punished. The boy smeared his tears away and braced himself against the wall until he was composed. Then he walked back to a group of boys playing with a ball.

  From there, the mirror showed more flashes of Piers yelling at his familiar, in both animal form and boy form. Maybe to the rest of the audience, Variel’s whippings would be worse than this, but as a familiar myself, I felt the scene as if it ripped into my soul. There was no worse feeling than one’s warlock screaming at you.

  Piers was usually at school in the scenes that flashed by, joining in on bullying of other children, first as a follower and later as a ringleader.

  Piers' memories hit me in a different way than Variel's. Piers had no excuse; he wasn't a demon. But I saw so much of Bernard in him; Bernard, losing half his family, left out of other children's parties, withdrawing into himself until he went away to a magical university and made new friends. Friends that led him to the council guard, where with every year, he became more wrapped up in his work, more willing to do anything to protect the wizard way of life. He even turned to Sinistral, so he could learn darker magic.

  I didn't understand any of the choices he was making. I couldn't believe it when he abandoned Etherium. But I knew he was in pain; I kept telling myself that deep down, he was still my wizard. I could save him. Someday, he would come home, taste my cake and see the fire crackling in the hearth. Maybe when Mrs. Franch died. Maybe when we were alone there. When I was all he had left.

  Now, in Piers' memory, he was striking down a familiar. A hawk. The blond boy he left mourning her absence was obviously his cousin, Helena's brother. When a familiar died, if they were tied to a wizard, their body vanished. Nothing was left behind. The young man grasped at the air.

  Piers always seemed to be lashing out at his own family. Daisy. Helena. I didn't recognize the others, but I could see that he was hurting them, relishing his power in a way that Variel never did in his memories.

  Watching him hurt familiars stabbed me deep inside. I knew he had done it; he and Bevan both said it. Seeing it was another matter. Seeing how easily he killed the hawk. Seeing how he learned to shove away his own familiar, the meek boy who reminded me to
o much of myself.

  "Seeing it all now..." Piers dropped to one knee in front of me. "I always chose power over anything else. I thought it was brave...but the boy in these visions is just a coward. I was...I've just never known...how to get along...with anyone. So I'd rather be alone now. And if I look like a monster and everyone is scared of me too, I think it would be a very fitting end for me. But...Jenny. I am sorry. I am sorry for hurting familiars. They never hurt me. I see that now, as clear as day. Chester would never have hurt me. I hope you'll meet him one day and tell him I'm sorry."

  "I hope so too. I can't speak for him, but I think, if he's anything like me, he will be extremely happy to hear you say that. And he might want to tell you in return that...he still loves you, and he understands that you were in pain, and all he's ever wanted was to hear those words from you...so that he can forgive you...with all of his heart." I was dangerously close to tears myself.

  Piers nodded solemnly, taking in my words for Bernard, and in that moment, I knew we both expected that we wouldn't see our companions again, and all we could do was to say these things to each other.

  "Tell him that I would say I love him too, but if I did, I wouldn't have hurt him like I did. I accept my punishment."

  Queen Morgana gave Lady Ceres the signal.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jenny

  I was prepared this time. I was already imagining Piers turning into a sort of demon himself. Maybe not a demon in the same way as Variel. In fact, I thought my mind would turn Piers into something lean and shadowy, with haunted eyes and long grasping fingers.

  I thought I knew how I saw him. And I knew that Piers already wanted to be alone. I hoped he would be able to survive well on his own, that he would find peace.

  My subconscious had other ideas.

  As he transformed, Daisy sprung out of her chair and yelled, "What the hell!?"

  Piers' missing hand was restored. His scars faded away. He seemed to grow less pale, as the dark circles under his eyes faded. His hair got thicker and longer. His face changed.

  He turned into about the most beautiful man I'd ever seen.

  Uh-oh.

  "This is how Mistress Jenny judges you," Queen Morgana said, and she didn't even sound surprised, but Piers made this sound that was nearly as horrified as Variel, although more strangled.

  "That--can't be right!" I cried. I looked anxiously at Bevan. "This isn't what it looks like!"

  "I didn't say it looked like anything," Bevan said. "But...I do...have questions. Lots of questions."

  "What the hell is this!?" Piers said. “This is no judgment! I'm supposed to be a monster! I don't even know who this person is!" He pointed at the mirror.

  "Would you rather be turned into a monster like Variel?" Queen Morgana asked.

  "Yes, yes, I probably would!" This was about the most emotion I'd ever seen from Piers. "At least a monster would be…cool!”

  Piers had always been so mature, so cautious with his emotions, and I almost found it a little bit sweet that he wanted to become a cool monster. I remembered a time when Bernard always pretended to be a dragon.

  "We must trust the magic," Queen Morgana said. "Thank you, Jenny. Forgive me for putting you through this, but I think you've made very wise choices."

  All I could think was that I'd learned why everyone always said not to trust the faeries. Wise choices? These weren't my choices!

  You would think turning Variel into a dangerous demon bat monster would be the bigger story of the night, but Piers looked as stunned as Variel did.

  "What do I do now?" he said, but he didn't seem to be speaking to anyone in particular.

  Daisy was heading our way now. "Uh-uh," she said. "Oh, no. No. Cyrus! What the heck is that? Jenny, don't you tell me you see Piers as whatever forgotten Disney prince look this is." She gestured to him wildly. "I burned his face and we don't even get to keep that?"

  "Shhh!" Cyrus hissed at her. "And to think Orson and his farts were banned from court and not you."

  "Oh, shut up!"

  "I tried to restrain her," Larkin said, coming along a step behind her. "But it's like trying to hold down a cat."

  "I've never seen him as this!" I was so embarrassed and there seemed no way out. Was this trying to tell me something I didn't even know? I did have a little affection for Piers because of Bernard. But there was no way that I saw Piers as a prince and Variel as a monster. "I don't know how this happened!"

  "I'm afraid the queen is right," Cyrus said. "I advise you to just trust the process. Piers turned into a handsome human who will attract affection and respect even before he earns it. Variel has turned into a beast of destruction who will strike fear into the heart of everyone he meets. Which is the worst curse?"

  “Variel!" Daisy said. “Variel definitely got the worst curse.”

  "But I wanted to be a monster," Piers said. "Maybe not an avornax that lives under a cabinet, but a proper monster. Just something that could survive all alone and never bother another person ever again. I don't want any attention. And certainly not like this!"

  "There you have it," Cyrus said.

  "I guess you could look at it that way," Bevan said. "But...I can't help but wonder if Jenny just...well. It's obvious that you don't really see Piers, you see Bernard, and maybe you want to see Bernard as something more than he is."

  "Everyone just stop! I don't want to be analyzed. I don't understand it and I just was hoping I could get some closure with the idea of Bernard. This was so humiliating. I just want to go to bed.”

  "I'll put you to bed," Bevan said. "And maybe help you forget all about this."

  I felt a little better getting away from the crowds and feeling Bevan's hand take mine. I thought he might be angry or jealous that Piers had turned handsome, but if anything, he seemed amused.

  Well, I was still feeling awfully embarrassed about it. I had no idea why my subconscious would punish Piers with good looks. I never thought I liked him that much! But I’m not really being truthful with myself…am I? Even if my association with Bernard is the only reason, I can’t seem to help being drawn to him.

  "Oh--let's stop and congratulate Jameson before we go to bed." I suddenly remembered.

  "He really was good," Bevan said. "He probably went backstage. I haven't seen Gillian either. I wonder if they even know what happened."

  It was very dimly lit in the hall backstage where a few small rooms held costumes and changing areas. As our footsteps creaked on the wood, we heard some intimate noises that abruptly stopped with Jameson saying, "Someone's coming."

  Bevan peeked in the door. "Sorry to interrupt. You probably should lock the door if you're going to celebrate like that."

  Gillian was buttoning her blouse. Jameson strolled out from behind a folding screen, looking plenty proud of his disheveled costume and smeared stage makeup. "Well, you know how it is. The mood overtakes one."

  "I would lock the door," Bevan said. "Regardless of mood."

  "The master doesn't like locked doors," Gillian said.

  "We just wanted to congratulate you," Bevan said, offering Jameson a handshake. "The audience was riveted by you. I could feel it as soon as you came on stage."

  "Didn't believe I had it in me, did you?" Jameson said, stopping at the mirror to preen.

  Somehow he seemed more like a male harpy now than he did with the actual body of one.

  "I can't believe Variel hasn't come by yet to tell me how horrible I was and what a stupid play and how he's seen better and so on..." Jameson sounded ever so slightly hurt.

  "I know!" Gillian said. "Do you suppose maybe he didn't hate it enough to bother?"

  "He's seemed pretty down lately," Jameson said.

  "You two have issues," Bevan said. "But, as for Variel..."

  "Hello?" The old woman from the flower shop suddenly appeared in the door so abruptly that Gillian jumped. "Delivery for Jameson Vulturesson?"

  "For me? Gillian...where did you get the coin for an arrangement li
ke that?"

  "I didn't send them!" Gillian breathed, as Jameson took the huge bouquet from the old woman.

  "No card, dearie,” the old woman said. "Enjoy."

  "Ah, I see..." Jameson smiled knowingly.

  I felt a very unpleasant twinge of guilt shoot through me. "Did Variel send those flowers?" I asked the old woman.

  "Sworn to secrecy, I am!” she said. "Ye have a good eve, now. Look me up when ye and your fine, tall fellow get married, eh?”

  "I--I saw Variel leaving her shop the other day," I said. "I thought he was just poking around town."

  Jameson took one of the flowers and tucked it behind Gillian's ear. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Our lord can be very kind to us now and then, but he never likes us to know."

  "It's true," Gillian said. "He always gives us gifts at Christmas, but he'll make up a story about how someone he knew was just getting rid of them, or he'll punish us for something first and then when we're finally good, he'll give us our gifts begrudgingly."

  "I don't know if I'd call that very kind," Bevan said.

  "Did--did Lord Variel send me all of those desserts?" I asked, as I remembered how Mistress Kerra was trying to tell me something before.

  "I imagine he did," Jameson said. "He was gathering up his magic ring and his knife to sell to make some quick money. It must have been for something."

  I wondered if the mirror should have shown me the good things he’d done as well, just to be fair.

  "What happened to the master?" Gillian squeaked.

  "The faeries...we had a trial...they made me come up and look in a mirror and watch all the worst things he's ever done and then they reached in my head and turned him into a bat monster thing..."

  "I'm not sure I love the term 'bat monster'," Bevan said. "I don't think you have to feel bad about it. It won't hurt Variel to feel very vulnerable for once in his life..."

  "Lord Variel has been turned into a monster?" Gillian twisted her apron. "Where is he now?"