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

by Lidiya Foxglove

  Is it a family I wish for as well?

  But my father always implied that it was just as well my mother died. Did he ever love her? Did he hide it as I tried to hide my own affections?

  I had just told Uram I was leaving that morning, but instead I struggled with the door knob to get out of the room.

  “Jenny!” I found her in the hall. “My lady Jenny.” I bowed to her, wings and tail draped on the floor like a cloak. “Let me make amends. I want to accompany Jenny and Bevan on their quest to the temple. If you should run into any physical dangers, you'll need someone strong. Especially if spells don't work as well there.”

  “If I say yes, do you understand that I’m not offering you anything more than that?” she asked carefully. “That I am not there to be wooed and I have no intention of marrying you?”

  “I swear it.”

  “And you’ll look at my face and not my breasts at all times?”

  “It would be my pleasure to only regard your finest of faces,” I said.

  She looked a tiny bit flattered, but she tried not to show it. “Do you think you can fly?”

  “I would need to learn,” I said. “Unfortunately, it will be difficult to fly with untested wings in the stormiest part of the world.”

  She nodded. “Well, you are still very strong. So maybe you’ll be useful to have around. You can come with us. Just you, not any of your servants.”

  No servants and no hands, I thought, with a slight qualm, but I supposed I could spear fish on my talons.

  “I’ll see you at the docks,” I told her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Piers

  "Oh, good morning? Are you new in town?" A devastatingly beautiful woman sidled up to me as I was trying to buy a few spell ingredients iat the herbalists near the castle.

  I hadn't even replied before her friend joined her. "I hardly knew they made humans this handsome. What's your name, sir?"

  I pulled my hood so far down over my eyes that I could hardly see. "Just some agrimony and blessed thistle, please. Two ounces of each."

  "An ounce? Is that like a spoonful?" the stooped man doling out the medicines said. "Boy, you've certainly got the Eleric sisters intrigued, don't you? Oh, to be young again. Not that I was ever quite that handsome."

  "We still haven't gotten your name."

  "And he's a mage! A skilled one, I bet!"

  "I'm not handsome," I said, feeling increasingly agitated.

  "That isn't a glamour," the taller one said. "I can smell glamour a mile away. You can't possibly be that modest."

  "Maybe he's been living in a cave and he doesn't know what he looks like. Poor lamb." The one with red curls petted my arm as I tried to dig out a little silver to pay with. I always kept a few universal coins of pure precious metal for emergencies.

  "Will this do?" The old man held up a level spoonful of herbs.

  "Yes, yes," I said, as another woman walked in and immediately grew interested in what the first two were doing.

  "Who is this, now?" She was a little older and looked like she was as likely to wrap me in a spider web to eat later as to find me romantically interesting. "A stranger?"

  "A human stranger!"

  "He won't answer any of our questions."

  "Don't tell me you have a wife waiting for you back in the human realms," the older woman said. "We could skip all of that part and just take you out for a drink.”

  "Why are there so many seductresses in your apothecary?” I asked the old man.

  He laughed, exposing a few gold teeth. "They don't do it to just anyone, but you're pretty enough that I'd take you out for a drink myself."

  I grabbed my herbs, gave him his silver, and hurried out of the shop.

  The women were following me. "Oh, come on!" One caught my sleeve in her slender fingers. "You seem very shy. If you've heard rumors about fae women being dangerous...well, we are." She giggled.

  "We're both sworn to the womanly ways of magic and won't take a husband," the other one said. "But we are free to have fun. In fact, it's good magic for everyone."

  "We give good massages too."

  "Leave me the hell alone!" I ran back to the castle.

  Not that it was any better there. Even some women who had seen my transformation and knew I wasn't really attractive and that I had done terrible things were giving me a second look as I tore up the stairs to my tiny room in the palace and locked the door behind me.

  "Sir...I've given you new sheets...did you...need anything else?"

  I jumped as a young maid appeared from the washroom. "No. I'm good. Thanks."

  I carefully avoided the mirror on the wall as I slumped onto the bed. I looked at my hands. Even my hands were more handsome.

  Why the hell couldn't I have had wings and talons?

  I never wanted to be seen in public again. My punishment had me completely baffled. I suppose many men would be happy to have this much female attention. I felt like I'd just been out fighting dragons.

  A rap on the door kept me from a quick nap--I had barely slept a wink last night.

  "Hey, it's Bevan. Just checking on you."

  I opened the door a crack.

  Bevan started laughing, trying halfheartedly to suppress guffaws. "You look so miserable! Man, you got your hand restored. Try not to look so disappointed."

  "This isn't my face."

  "Can I see it in the daylight?"

  I held the door open, glaring at the floor as Bevan looked at 'it'. The face.

  "It's really an improvement," Bevan said. "You're actually handsome enough that your sour expression doesn't even ruin it."

  "I'm not sure why you're even here..."

  "Well...you did help me find out about the temple. I feel I have to ask if you want to go to a monastery, or maybe you'd rather put your life to some use helping me with this whole thing. At this point I'm convinced that you're no longer any threat whatsoever."

  "What is that supposed to mean? A threat to who?"

  "My girl. You really are awkward with women."

  "I'm...I'm not interested in them, anyway."

  "Well, you're awkward with men, too."

  "I'm not interested in men."

  "You are not interested in people at all," Bevan said, nodding. "That's why, despite your ridiculous new face, I'm okay having you around. I think you'll actually be helpful if we find the temple and we need to figure out any archaeological puzzles or so on." Bevan grimaced. "This sounds difficult. We need all the help we can get. And I don't know how many people would risk their lives to find out the origin of familiars. But if you want to atone...here's your chance."

  "If you want me to come, I'll come," I said.

  I had a weird feeling like excitement as Bevan said, "Great. Get ready. We're sailing out tomorrow morning."

  I wasn't sure how I felt about being on a ship with Jenny. I kept trying to leave her and Bevan alone, but now it seemed like Bevan actually wanted me around. I had expected him to be furious at Jenny for judging me by making me more handsome. In fact, Jenny seemed to think that too.

  Am I being played? Maybe this is all a trick...

  I just couldn't see a reason for that. It was possible that Bevan actually...just wasn't that kind of person.

  Chester certainly wasn't that kind of person. Even now, I hope he hates me, but I expect he doesn't. Familiars don't seem to hold grudges easily.

  I felt a warmth and calm descend on me. I would have a purpose. I might even have a chance to saccrifie myself in a way that would feel more noble than suicidal, and Jenny and Bevan would always remember me that way as they loved each other.

  After so many years of thinking of nothing but power, always striving so hard for more of it that I barely slept at night, it was a relief to think of that. I knew I would never be happy or make anyone else happy. I could never make up what I'd done to Chester.

  But I could do this.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jenny

  Our ship for the fir
st leg of the journey was called The Fortune, and the captain was a very stocky, silent man with a grumpy face and another faery accent I could barely understand, but I gathered from what he told us that he was operating with a skeleton crew and we were free to explore the ship. He would take us to the last port before the seas grew cold, stormy, and dangerous. Cash and his crew would meet us there.

  Piers boarded with us, trying to hide under the hood of a black cloak as several women pursued him to the gangplank. They cleared off as soon as Variel showed up, also wearing a cloak, but...I quickly noticed...very little else. I guessed there were no clothes to fit a bat monster in the faery palace, so under the cloak it looked like he was basically wearing some black swim trunks.

  Oh dear. I never thought of anything like that! He was still wearing tattered clothes the other night.

  I didn't want to notice all the many hard muscles that covered his body, but I had never seen a naked man before besides Bevan, and...well...

  Suddenly two hands covered my eyes. "I think we have a ship to explore?" Bevan said, spinning me toward him. His eyes narrowed.

  "Yes, yes! I didn't mean to gawk!"

  I saw an unreadable expression lingering in Bevan's eyes and I hoped I hadn't made a big mistake letting Variel come with us.

  I forgot about it when we were below decks, looking at the cabins with cozy living quarters and furniture bolted down. Some might say the rooms were tight, but it reminded me of Bevan's cottage. The porthole windows had curtains with bows, and the bed was built into the wall with framing to keep us from rolling out of it, but it was all made pretty with painted fish and coral in the faery style, with Celtic knots and intricate patterns. There was a little compact oven with pretty doors instead of a fireplace, and it had a nook with its own door for warming food or even drying out gloves or hats. A table was set near the oven with a lovely embroidered tablecloth secured with ties at the corners and a bowl of citrus.

  That was our room, and from there we explored the common spaces, storerooms, and the kitchen. Thanks to magic, the faeries had a room for cold storage and the ship was stocked with loads of fresh food.

  "Are you the girl who likes to bake?" A fat, cheerful-looking woman with wild brown hair peered in the storage room, tying a clean white apron around her waist.

  "I am! Does everyone know? I haven't even baked anything since I came here."

  "Well, I'm terrible at baking sweets," the woman said. "The captain hates sweet foods and he hired me because I make the best damn stew in all the realms, but the men always want scones and tarts."

  "Making tarts on a ship? That sounds like such an adventure! I'd love to! Do you have extra aprons?"

  "Jenny, I don't think you have to get to work this second," Bevan said. "What's your name, madam?"

  "Oh, just Dahl."

  “Like…the Indian lentils?"

  "Like short for Dahlia," she laughed, handing me an apron.

  "I want to get to work," I said. If I stayed in the kitchen, I wouldn't have to see Piers or Variel.

  "I saw some strawberries in the cold storage that you'll want to use up right away."

  Bevan shook his head. "You've been itching for a kitchen, huh?"

  "Terribly. I learned some things poking around faery bakeries, but it's not the same."

  "Have at it," Dahl said. "We'll just have to be careful in these close quarters. Are you prone to seasickness?"

  "I hope not."

  "Take a little remedy, then, just in case. I can't handle vomiting in my galley!"

  I never knew exactly when the ship pulled away from the harbor, because I stayed down there and got right to work making shortcakes. Dahl and I worked around each other just fine despite the tight kitchen. She was older than me and kind of slow, and I was used to making myself small and zipping around. I didn't even mind kneading dough on the floor.

  "You're like a little waterspout, just popping up out of nothing and spinning all over the place," Dahl said. "I bet you could make desserts worthy of the palace in a proper kitchen."

  "You haven't even tasted these yet!"

  "I can tell you know what you're doing. Did you run a bakery back home? You're a familiar, aren't you?"

  "Yes, and familiars don't run bakeries," I said. "I've just always baked and cooked for my family. Everything, really, but the pastries seemed to bring them the most happiness. So I've always tried to make new things and outdo myself."

  "You could open a bakery in La Serenissima."

  "I'm hoping to apprentice under Madam Kerra at the Golden Patisserie. I want to learn to make magical pastries that bring people even deeper happiness and comfort. I'm trying to bespell these shortcakes with good cheer for the voyage."

  "Oh, then I should leave you to concentrate," Dahl said.

  “I think it could work," I said. "Strawberries are one of the first fruits of spring, so they have the happiness of everything waking up with the seasons. Maybe I can tease it out. It's just a amateur attempt at a spell, not like the things Madam Kerra makes, but we could use a sense of a fresh start here."

  "I heard there's a monster on the ship," Dahl said. "And you had something to do with it. Keep me away from him. I don't need to be seeing any monsters."

  "He's not, really. He's a high demon."

  "That's worse!"

  "Well, I think he wants to help." I sighed. "But he's a frustrating man."

  "A high demon isn't like a man," Dahl said. "All they want is to get something out of you and grow ever more powerful."

  "I don't know. I’m not sure if he’s really like that.”

  “If they aren’t like that, they aren’t high demons,” Dahl said.

  I was glad that generally, Dahl didn't seem interested in demons or any of the men, and just wanted to talk about food. It was a nice break from worrying over it all.

  When the shortcake was out of the oven and cooling, and the stew was simmering, we made some flatbreads with caramelized onion and seeds together. My stomach was growling by now, smelling all the food, and I was sweating in the heat, my hair twisted back in a bun. I knew I didn't look very pretty at all, but I was extremely proud of the good meal we would bring out for the crew.

  Suddenly Dahl screamed and dropped a bowl of salad right on the floor before she sagged against the wall.

  Variel had appeared, ducking and hunching as his horns left scrape marks on the ceilings.

  "I mean no harm," he said, but he didn't look impressed by Dahl. "I caught several fish and I would like them fried for my dinner."

  "We made stew," I said.

  He squeezed into the kitchen and swung out his tail. Fish were speared onto the spikes like conquered enemies. "You may have one as well, my lady," he said. "Or two, if you like. I just don't think a person as small as you would need two, or I would offer you as many.”

  “Did you catch these just now?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I went for a quick swim and found that I can catch fish quite handily by putting bait on the spikes and then bashing the fish between my feet.”

  “Oh my.” I tugged the fish off the spikes. "I'll save them for tomorrow. I can put them on ice."

  "I must have them tonight."

  “Tonight? So you're just here to order me around?” Maybe Dahl was right and high demons really couldn’t change, even when they tried. “We're very busy, as you can tell." I slapped the fish on the counter, wiped my hands on my apron, and then tried to tame all the crazy strands of hair flying around my face.

  “Then I'll eat them raw," he said, stabbing the fish with a claw. He twisted his wing, trying to get the fish to stay on his claw, and his other wing got so close to the fire that it singed him. The fish slid to the ground as Variel jolted away from the oven. The delicate skin of his wing was scorched and he was twisting his head to try and see it.

  I blanched. "Oh..." Suddenly I realized that of course, Variel would have similar problems to Jameson in his harpy form now. His claws and tail were more useful than Jameson's feat
hers, but he could probably only eat stew by lifting the bowl right into his face, and he might spill it. Variel was always very clean and mannered. I thought Variel would probably rather starve than dribble stew down his chin. But now he seemed rather savage, especially so…naked.

  So naked… I was making a great effort not to look at him, but every angle showed off some spectacular feature, from his strong legs to his tight ass to his hard abs with small, tight nipples the gray color of stone against his paler grayish skin. He really looked like a statue. But I knew his skin was also soft and warm, not nearly as cold and foreboding as he looked.

  "Balm...behind you, dear...oh, I must sit down a moment," Dahl said, stepping out.

  I found the balm and crouched to the edges of Variel's wings, spreading it on the burn.

  "It does serve you right, you know," I said. "You didn't care about Jameson's dignity."

  "He was born that way," Variel said.

  "But he wanted a human life and you had the power to give it to him, at no cost to you."

  Variel was quiet, watching me daub on the green-hued cream. "I knew that as soon as I gave him a human form, he would want to leave my castle... He would dream of joining a theatre troupe."

  "So? He wasn't a very good servant, was he? What could a harpy do to serve you?"

  "He was my herald. An excellent herald. One of the best servants I had."

  "How often did you need a herald?" I stood up, wiping my hands on the apron for the hundredth time that day. It was streaked with stains. I screwed the cap on the balm. Variel was looking at me, his red eyes boring into me like lasers, as his lips twisted a little with some unsaid words.

  "Jameson was a friend to me," he finally said.

  "Oh. Well--I thought so. I think he still is your friend, even if you're a pretty bad friend."

  "I haven't been away from them--from my servants--in my entire life," Variel said. "I thought...I had others. Loyal servants. My chef...my master of horse..."

  "Variel..."

  His expression grew resolved. "I will not ask for you to fry the fish as a servant, but as a favor that will be returned. I did come here to protect you from all harm. I intend to use the weapons you've given me to destroy any danger we might encounter in these far lands. If there is no danger, than I'll owe you something. I'll try to get back the horse. No, she wasn't even a very fine horse. I’ll get a better one."