Ruby Shadows
Date: 2000-01-01 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Paranormal; Paranormal Romance; Magic; Witches; Vampires; Demons; Erotic Romance; Erotica; Supernatural
Description: Nothing is for free when it comes to demons. Gwendolyn LaRoux finds this out the hard way when she summons Laish, a minor demon from the Shadow Lands to help her cook up a little black magic. Unfortunately black magic has a way of growing and soon Gwendolyn finds herself drowning in darkness. But when a creature from the Abyss enters our world and threatens her beloved grandmother, Gwendolyn has to admit she needs help-which means summoning the infuriating Laish. Answering Gwendolyn's incantations in a moment of boredom was a mistake for a demon who keeps what little heart he has left under lo

Born to Darkness

Book 3: Ruby Shadows

Evangeline Anderson

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

Evangeline Anderson Books on Smashwords

Born to Darkness

Book 3: Ruby Shadows

Copyright © 2015 by Evangeline Anderson

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Dedicated to my Aunt Treasure. You may be gone but you will never be forgotten. Thank you for always being so supportive of my writing. I love you and miss you so very much.

Author’s Note #1: To be the first to hear about new releases, join my new newsletter. I promise no spam—you will only get email from me when a new book is out for either preorder or for sale.

Author’s Note #2: I'm so pleased to let you know that the Kindred series is slowly but surely being put into the audio format. Claimed is available in audio and Hunted is out in audio as well. Sought and Found are following later in 2015. The books are performed by the very talented Anne Johnstonbrown whom I hand-picked to read the series.

Listening to the books on audio is like reading the story for the first time all over again. Audio is wonderful for long commutes, exercising at the gym or just listening while you're cleaning around the house. Just be sure you wear your headphones--Anne really brings the steamy scenes to life and you'll be blushing if your family hears what you're listening to! : )

Hugs and Happy Reading and Listening to you all,

Evangeline Anderson May, 2015

Other Books by Evangeline Anderson

Brides of the Kindred books (in order)

Claimed (also available in print and as an audio book)

Hunted (also available in print and as an audio book)

Sought

Found

Revealed

Pursued

Exiled

Shadowed

Chained

Divided

Devoured (also available in print)

Enhanced

Cursed

Enslaved

Targeted coming Summer of 2015

Forgotten coming Fall of 2015

Born to Darkness Paranormal series

Crimson Debt

Scarlet Heat

Ruby Shadows

Cardinal Sins (coming soon)

***The above books are just a small sample of Evangeline's work. For a complete list of books from all publishers, please visit her website***

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Epilogue

Kindred 15: Targeted excerpt

Born to Darkness 4: Cardinal Sins excerpt

Also by Evangeline Anderson

About the Author

Prologue

When you’re dealing with demons, nothing is for free.

Believe me—I found that out the hard way. My name is Gwendolyn LaRoux and I’m a witch. Not a green-skinned cackling old hag with a hump on her nose and a skinny black cat kind of witch, though. I’m actually quite modern, thank you very much—a typical twenty-something just trying to make her way in the world.

Well, except for one minor detail—I’m still a virgin.

But lest you go thinking it’s because I’m a prude, let me set the record straight. Witches need to keep themselves intact until they find someone to form a love bond with. No love bond equals no sex. That’s because casual encounters and one night stands without love involved will half a witch’s power and greatly diminish her potency, which leaves her vulnerable to attacks by rivals and other supernatural creatures who might wish her harm.

This particular rule doesn’t apply to warlocks—male witches—though. It’s just those of us with girly parts that have to keep our legs crossed. Not fair, right? No, not a damn bit but that’s the way it is and, as my Grams keeps reminding me, I have to stay pure to stay powerful. Though she doesn’t say it, I know what else she’s thinking—stay pure to stay protected. She always worries about me so much and I can’t say I blame her. The women in our family aren’t known for being able to stay out of trouble.

Take my mom, for instance. She got on the wrong side of a fire demon back when my sister Keisha and I were just little girls. Grams always says she went too far toward the darkness and just couldn’t come back. Unfortunately, it ended up killing her, which left Grams to raise us.

After that, I promised Grams I would stay pure. Keisha did the same but unfortunately, she couldn’t resist a certain boy in high school who promised he would love her forever. She gave in and lost half her power along with her virginity—no surprise since he was a player who never really cared for her in the first place. It takes two to form a love bond and unfortunately, Keisha judged unwisely. After that her life just got worse until… well, I’d rather not say any more about her.

As for me, I’ve had my share of ups and downs—not that I would let my Grams know. Well, she does know I used my power to form a soul eater for a local vampire by the name of Corbin—but that was for a good cause. And he offered me his blood in payment, which I happened to need for a spell.

What Grams doesn’t know is that I called on a minor demon for help in forming the soul eater. I promised her I’d only use my powers for light and stay away from the darkness that ate my mother, but I had to make one little compromise—just one.

Unfortunately, that one little compromise came back to bite me in the ass. The demon I called goes by the name of Laish and ever since he helped me, he’s been all up in my business. It’s incredibly irritating—especially considering that he’s ridiculously good looking with coal black hair, a big, muscular body to die for and these weirdly attractive ruby-red eyes.

I’ve never dated outside my race before—to be honest, I’ve never dated much at all—but Laish would tempt me to give it a try. If he wasn’t a demon, that is.

I don’t know how Grams would feel about me dating a white guy but I do know how she’d feel about me dating a demon. Especially one so sinfully attractive he makes me feel hot and cold all over every time we’re in the same room together.

Laish has this deep, smoky voice and when he looks at me with those ruby eyes I feel like I’m naked. He’s always calling me annoying little French nicknames—mon chatte, and mon ange—which I’m sure is a dig at my Creole heritage. Naturally I don’t give him the time of day. Demons don’t have souls so you can’t bond with them—not that I would trust Laish to form a bond with me. He just wants to get under my skin and into my pants and take whatever he can get—that’s his demonic nature.

I shouldn’t even be telling you about him anyway. After my last little adventure where I rescued a vampire friend from the depths of the Abyss, Laish showed up after the fact and yelled at me. His point was that it’s strictly forbidden to snatch a soul from Heaven or Hell and dangerous to enter the Abyss, even in spirit form, which was what I had done. He further reminded me that if I’d left the door I opened into the afterlife’s darkest pit cracked, even the tiniest bit, there would literally be Hell to pay.

At that point I told him to leave me alone and never come back. I know my business. I know I closed that door.

I’m pretty sure, anyway.

To make a long story short, (I know, too late), I got rid of Laish forever. It’s now been several weeks since I gave him the heave-ho and he’s stopped popping up everywhere, asking if I need help and calling me by those irritating little French nicknames that drive me crazy.

I don’t miss him a bit—really. I’m just trying to get back to the business I’m best at—being a witch and helping my Grams run her magic supply business in Ybor City. At first I was a little worried but things have been quiet and calm. I can almost forget about the dabbling I did in dark magic and the fact that I went way past the line any witch who wants to keep her magic strictly white and good should have.

Well…except for the dreams.

I keep on dreaming of a thing made of shadows—a thing with no head. No head but somehow it still has sharp, crooked yellow teeth. And it’s hunting me—looking everywhere for me. Trying to track me down…

Sorry! There I go again, letting my imagination run away with me. After all, a few bad dreams are to be expected considering what I’ve been through lately. And anyway, it’s not like they’re a warning that something really evil is stalking me…

Are they?

Chapter One

Gwendolyn

“So Victor’s excited to be a dad?” I asked, pouring myself another cup of wine and topping off Taylor’s sparkling water.

“He’s over the moon about it,” Addison said. “No pun intended,” she added dryly.

“Very funny.” Taylor elbowed her in the ribs good naturedly.

“I know—over the moon—get it?” Addison giggled.

Taylor was pregnant and it was her man, Victor—who happened to be a huge-ass cursed werewolf—we were talking about. Which explains Addison’s bad pun. Well, that and the bottle of white wine she’d had been chugging.

“Well tell me more—details, girl.” I made a “keep going” hand gesture with my wine glass, nearly spilling the contents all over my lap. “Whoops!”

“Whoops is right.” Addison giggled again. She had definitely had more than enough wine. Not that I minded, it had been entirely too long since I’d enjoyed myself this much.

I had invited my new friends Taylor and Addison over for a wine and pedicure party and somehow the time just flew. Of course, once the wine started flowing we sort of forgot about the pedicure part of it. I had managed to get at least one coat of cherry red paint on my toes but Addison’s were only half done and Taylor’s were pretty messy.

That was because Addison insisted that her pregnant best friend shouldn’t be breathing paint fumes (even if they were just fingernail polish paint) and offered to paint Taylor’s toes herself. However, this was about three glasses of wine into the evening and the effect looked like…well, like someone who’d had three full glasses of white wine had done the job. Not that Taylor seemed to mind—she was enjoying herself as much as Addison and I were, even if she was sticking strictly to non-alcoholic beverages.

For a vampire and a Vampire Auditor (I know—weird combination, right?) they were pretty fun girls. They had a few little inside jokes since they’d been friends since college but they never made me feel like an outsider. And we had plenty to gossip about, considering everything the three of us had been through in the past month. Right now, though, all anyone wanted to talk about was the baby.

“I swear Victor talks at least as much to my tummy as he talks to me,” Taylor told us, rubbing her belly and grinning.

“And why not? He’s got to get to know his daughter.” Addison patted her best friend’s tummy, which was already beginning to get a tiny bit rounder. “He’s gonna make a great dad, you know.”

“I know.” Taylor was absolutely glowing, her cheeks pink and healthy. You would never have guessed that she was a vampire to see her—not that she strictly was anymore. A combination of Victor’s blood and a well placed prophesy meant she was able to do things most vampires couldn’t, like go out in the sun, eat solid food…get pregnant. You know, that kind of thing. “He’s already building a crib,” she continued.

“What? He’s already putting together the crib? But I wanted to buy you that,” Addison exclaimed, filled with drunken indignity. “You haven’t even had your baby shower yet!”

“No, no—I don’t mean he’s putting it together from a kit,” Taylor said. “He’s actually building the crib from scratch. He went out and got the wood and sanded it down and stained it…” She shook her head, a fond light in her blue eyes. “It’s going to be gorgeous when it’s done.”

“Not half as gorgeous as the baby, I’ll bet.” I grinned at her. “If she looks like half you and half Victor, she’s going to be quite a little princess.”

Taylor laughed. “Victor says he hopes she looks just like me. But I can’t help wishing she’d get his eyes.”

“The kind that turn wolf gold during the full moon?” Addison asked.

I thought she might have gone too far but I didn’t say anything. And besides, it was something I’d been wondering too, even if I wasn’t quite drunk enough to say it. Would Taylor’s daughter take after her mother or her father? Or was the kid going to be half vampire and half werewolf—a kind of vamp-were hybrid?

Taylor looked grave. “I wouldn’t mind but Victor hopes not. He’s afraid if she comes out a were she might inherit his curse.”

“But if she comes out as a vampire, she won’t be able to go out during the day,” Addison pointed out. “That kind of puts a damper on your play-date prospects with other babies.”

“Maybe she won’t be either one,” I said thoughtfully. “I mean, really, both you and Victor have a human side—maybe she’ll just inherit that and be purely human.”

“Then she’ll just be the kid with the weird parents,” Addison said cheerfully and hiccupped.

Taylor made a face at her and took a sip of her sparkling water. “Look, just because you don’t want kids yourself…”

“And believe me, Corbin was plenty grateful I don’t,” Addison said. “He was all long-suffering and ready to be willing to adopt with me but I could tell how relieved he was when I told him I’d rather not have any.”

“Vampires live a long time and you’re tied to him,” I pointed out. “You might change your mind after a few hundred years.”

Addison shrugged, apparently unconcerned. “Maybe. Until then, I’ll be happy just to be the cool aunt.”

“Well, the main thing is that your baby is healthy,” I reminded Taylor. “And that was the first thing Grams said when she told you that you were pregnant.”

“And she’s always right about that kind of thing?” Taylor had an anxious look in her deep blue eyes.

“Always,” I reassured her. “She’s got one hundred percent accuracy when it comes to anything baby-related.” Which made it a shame that she didn’t have any grandkids to chase after. But since I had to be so careful not to get mixed up with the wrong man—meaning any man not willing to wait until I was absolutely sure of him to have sex—Gram’s house was sadly without the pitter-patter of little feet.

Hey, you try telling a guy he doesn’t get any nookie until you’re sure he wants to stay with you for life. It’s kind of a first date killer. Or a fifth or a fifteenth for that matter.

The creaking of the front door pulled me out of my gloomy thoughts and Grams walked into the room with her massive handbag over one arm.

“Gwendolyn, you didn’t tell me you were having company tonight,” she said.

“Oh, sorry! We didn’t mean to stay so late,” Addison said and she and Taylor jumped up.

Taylor came over to greet my Grams. “Your ears must be burning, we were just talking about you—you know, about the way you first told me I was pregnant and said my baby girl was healthy?” She looked at Grams beseechingly.

Grams smiled—she really had taken a shine to Taylor.

“Just need a little more reassurance, do you, child?”

“Well, it’s still too early for an ultrasound and I don’t know what they’re going to see when they do finally do one—” Taylor began.

“What they’re going to see is a healthy baby girl. Just like the one you dreamed about.” Grams pressed her fingers lightly to Taylor’s abdomen. “And don’t you worry about her taking after you or your man. She’s going to be her own special person with her own special talents. You’ll see.”

“Oh, thank you!” Taylor’s eyes were shining as she gave my Grams a spontaneous hug.

Grams laughed and hugged her back. “Just you be sure to bring her over for me to see her when she comes out,” she said. “I love children and I’ll be happy to say a blessing over her for you.”

“I will,” Taylor promised. She looked at Addison. “Well, we’d probably better get going. It’s late and Victor will be worried.”

“Not before we help clean up, though,” Addison said, gesturing to the two empty wine bottles (I’m ashamed to admit I killed an entire bottle myself), the sparkling water bottle, and all the pedicure paraphernalia lying around my Grams’ faded floral couch.

“Don’t be silly,” I told them. “I’ve got this.” I could tell Grams was tired and ready for bed but she can never rest completely easy when there are guests in the house. She always feels like she needs to be offering them a big glass of sweet tea or cooking them her special gumbo or something like that.

True to form, she opened her mouth and asked if either of the girls wanted anything before they left.

“I’ve had enough. More than enough.” Addison giggled and pointed to one of the empty wine bottles. “Corbin will probably get tipsy if he even takes a sip from me tonight.”

“Good thing you’ve got a designated driver, then,” Taylor said. She turned to my Grams. “I don’t want anything to drink but would it be possible to get one of those delicious homemade dill pickles of yours?”

“More than one,” Grams said smiling. She didn’t let Taylor leave until she’d packed her up with a whole bag of her homemade pickles. The mason jars she always uses for canning clinked together as she handed the bag over.

“Oh, thank you!” Taylor was ecstatic—she can’t get enough of my Grams’ pickles. They were one of the very first things she ate after the prophesy allowed her to start consuming human food again and ever since, she’s hooked.

I hugged both girls and we made promises to see each other again soon. But before they left, Taylor whispered in my ear,

“All clear so far?”

I knew what she meant. She’d overheard my last conversation with Laish. The one where he was yelling at me and warning me that if I hadn’t closed that door into the Abyss, I was going to have trouble. Taylor felt personally responsible because she was the one I’d gone to save. I’d broken all kinds of Celestial rules when I snatched her from the edge of the pit and supposedly, I was going to have to pay the price. But so far, other than the bad dreams about the thing with no head and long, yellow teeth, I was fine.

“All clear,” I told her, not mentioning the dreams. No point in freaking her out over something that was probably just a product of my own guilty conscience, right?

Taylor looked relieved. “Good. Let me know if that changes.”

“I will,” I promised although there was nothing she could do if it did change. “Now you two had better get going—it smells like it’s going to rain.” I glanced anxiously at the murky black sky revealed outside Grams’ trim front door. The scent of ozone was heavy in the humid night breeze, making me shiver.

“Not just rain—it’s about to be a monsoon.” Grams put a hand to her back. “My spine is aching like the devil’s using it for his own private xylophone. Arthritis never lies—it’s gonna go a gusher pretty soon.”

“We’d better go for real then.” Addison gave a little wave and Taylor pulled me in for one more quick hug.

“Be safe,” she whispered and then they hurried off into the damp Tampa night.

I went back inside and began cleaning up the remains of our little party. But as I was picking up the living room, I found a little scrap of something dried and black hidden under the couch. It was a tiny piece of demon’s breath—the black flower with a blood red spot in its center that only grows in the Shadow Lands—Hell’s front doorstep.

I sank down on the couch and contemplated the little scrap. Laish had given it to me the fateful night I had worked the spell to free Taylor from her blood bond with Victor. That had been a big misunderstanding and their bond was back now and stronger than ever. But it wasn’t their bond or the ceremony I had worked that I was thinking of. No, what I was thinking of was the way I had “paid” Laish for the sprig of demon’s breath he had given me.

Remember I said that nothing is for free when it comes to demons? Well, it’s not. Laish had demanded a kiss—one single kiss—that was all. It had seemed a simple enough payment at the time. I was sure it wouldn’t affect me. And yet somehow when he had taken my face gently but possessively between his hands and pressed his mouth to mine, I felt like I was melting and burning at the same time. My body started trembling, my heart was knocking against my ribs like it was looking for a way out, and my knees got so weak I could hardly stand.

All that from just one kiss.

The worst thing was, Laish knew how he was affecting me. I could see it in those damn bewitching ruby eyes of his—could read it in that self-satisfied, arrogant smirk he had on his face when he finally let me go. I had wanted to wipe that smirk off his face with my fist…and at the same time I had wanted in the worst way to grab him and kiss him again. Kiss him and more, so much more…

“It’s late, Gwendolyn. You going to turn in for the night?” Grams asked me.

I jumped guiltily and shoved the scrap of demon’s breath into my jeans pocket. “Yeah, Grams, in a minute,” I muttered.

Look at you, I lectured myself, getting off the couch to finish my cleaning. Getting all hot and bothered over a demon. A minor demon at that. He’s not worth it, Gwendolyn. Pretty to look at but he’s got no soul.

Which was true. You can’t form a love bond with a soulless demon—not that you’d want to in the first place. And not that I would ever see Laish again. I’d told him to stay away from me the last time I saw him and he’d finally taken the hint. I didn’t miss him a bit—so why couldn’t I stop thinking about him?

“Well, I’d better get these old bones to bed. Hope it’s not too damp in there,” I heard Grams murmur.

I knew what she meant at once—outside the rain was pouring down in a solid sheet of water. Which wouldn’t be a problem except Grams’ bedroom had a small leak in the far side of the ceiling. It’s not a huge leak—more of a drip, really, and we were going to get it fixed as soon as we had a little more money. But the extra dampness in the room made Grams’ arthritis so much worse she could hardly sleep in there on rainy nights.

“Let’s trade bedrooms for tonight,” I told her.

She shook her head. “Oh no, Gwendolyn, honey—I don’t want to kick you out of your own bed.”

“Don’t be silly.” I hugged her. “I don’t mind the damp and my room is snug and dry. You know you can’t sleep in that other room when it’s raining. I don’t know why you don’t just trade with me for good.”

Grams harrumphed. “I like my room. Been sleeping there since we bought this place. I hate to let a little weather kick me out.”

“Grams, you’re as stubborn as a mule.” I kissed her cheek affectionately. “Come on, let’s go to bed. You in my room and me in yours.”

“You’re a good girl, Gwendolyn.” She patted my cheek gently and looked into my eyes. “You really are.”

I had to suppress the urge to look away guiltily. If Grams knew what I had really been up to—dabbling in black magic, calling up demons from the pit, snatching souls from the very lip of the Abyss—she wouldn’t be so quick to say I was good. But I had managed to keep all that from her so far and I intended to continue to keep it a secret for as long as I could. Hopefully forever.

“Love you, Grams,” I told her. “Come on, let’s get some sleep.”

“Sounds good to me.” She sighed. “Let me just get my C-pap machine so I can sleep easy.”

“You mean your Darth Vader mask?” I made a face. The bulky contraption helped Grams with her sleep apnea but it certainly wasn’t the prettiest thing to look at. The noise it made and the way it fit over her face really reminded me of the Star Wars baddie.

“Very funny, young lady.” Grams shook a finger at me. “See if you can sleep without help when you get to be my age. Then we’ll talk.”

“Yeah, yeah…” I waved off her mock severity. “Okay, get your machine and I’ll see you in the morning.”

She headed off to get it, still harrumphing, and I went to my own room to get a t-shirt to wear to bed. Some nights I preferred PJs but it had been really hot in Tampa lately and our little AC unit could only do so much. So I would be sleeping light tonight.

I just hoped I would be sleeping sound as well. If I had another one of those freaky dreams… I shuttered and pushed the thought away. I’m going to be fine and get a good night’s sleep, I told myself.

I had never been more wrong in my life.

Chapter Two

Gwendolyn

A creaking sound woke me up in the middle of the night.

I sat bolt upright in the blackness, my eyes wide open, my heart pounding. I’d been having the dream again—about the headless thing coming to get me. If I closed my eyes I could still see those gaping jaws and the long yellow teeth, hungry for my flesh.

Or no, not my flesh—my soul—I suddenly realized. For the thing in my dream, the physical part of me—my body—would be nothing but an appetizer. It was the immortal part the headless thing was after and it would stop at nothing to get it.

Stop this foolishness, I lectured myself uneasily. It’s just a dream and that creaking sound was probably just the house settling.

It was a plausible enough explanation. Grams’ little bungalow had been built back in the nineteen twenties. It had been modernized with central heat and air because you can’t live in Tampa without AC—not unless you don’t mind dying of heat stroke—but it was still old and old houses make noises. Besides, I reminded myself uneasily, Grams had white magic wards all around the house, protecting every door and window. Even if the creaking sound was something awful coming for me, it would never be able to pass through her charms to get at me.

The thought calmed my nerves somewhat and I was just settling back in the bed and pulling the covers up to my chin when I heard the creaking again. This time it was coming from right underneath the bed.

I gasped and sat up again. Something’s not right. What’s going on? Wards around the house or no wards, my heart was suddenly pounding and I wanted to run. I was sleeping in just my t-shirt and panties and I was just about to swing my bare legs over the side of the bed and make a dash for it when I had a horrible mental image. What if the thing with no head grabbed me by the ankles and yanked me under the bed?

I pulled my legs back up abruptly, feeling sick with fear. What was happening? Every sense I had—both physical and supernatural—was on high alert. This creaking wasn’t simply the house settling—I was under attack. But who—?

Before I could finish the question, there was another creak—a horribly loud one this time—and the entire bed shifted.

That was it. I was getting up out of there. I stood up on the bed, intending to take a flying leap for the door of the bedroom. But just as I was poised to jump, there was a fourth creak that was more like a roar. The bed shook violently and suddenly I found myself falling. Or rather, the entire bed was falling.

I didn’t understand what had happened at first. All I knew was that I was suddenly flat on my back and the room had just gotten a whole lot darker.

I scrambled to my feet and stood on my tiptoes, trying to see what had happened. From the faint light coming from behind the window shade, I could tell that everything had shifted. For some reason, the floor was now at eye-level. I could see Grams’ furry house shoes, which I had bought her last Christmas to keep her feet warm, right in front of me. They had been by the side of the bed earlier but now I would have to reach up to grab one.

I brushed against a wall which hadn’t been there before and the smell of fresh dirt hit my nose. A clod of soil broke off and fell onto the clean white sheets, scattering filth all over.

My first thought was that Grams would have my hide—she’s very big on cleanliness, especially when it comes to not sleeping in a dirty bed. The second thought was, how in the hell had a dirt wall suddenly grown up between me and the bedroom around me. And why had everything shifted?

“Grams?” I shouted without much hope. “Grams, can you hear me?” The crash the bed had made would have woken anyone else but that damn C-pap machine she wore at night made so much noise it drowned out everything else. She often said the second coming could happen and she wouldn’t notice it over the sound it made.

I called again but I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t appear. I would have to get myself out of this mess.

The moon must have come out from behind a cloud outside because suddenly the light in the room got brighter. I looked around and finally understood. Grams’ big four poster bed with its homemade quilts and too-soft pillows had somehow sunk down through the solid oak flooring. It was like a sink hole had opened just beneath it which probably explained the wood creaking just before it happened.

Just then I felt the bed shifting under me again. I screamed and grabbed desperately for the lip of the hole I was in. Then the bed disappeared entirely, sucked away down into the ever deepening hole. I was left hanging there by my hands with my feet swinging down into the darkness.

Oh my God, I have to get out of here! Have to get away from this room before the hole gets bigger or something else happens.

What that something else might be, I didn’t want to imagine. I felt sick with fear but I forced myself to get going.

I gripped the broken boards, ignoring the pain as splinters dug into my fingertips and tried to dig into the dirt wall with the tips of my toes. It was surprisingly hard, though, and wouldn’t give much. So much for that.

Next I tried heaving myself up with my hands but it wasn’t easy. I did my fair share of cardio at the gym but I never hit the weights the way I knew I should. Now I might pay for my poor upper body strength with my life.

“Come…on…Gwendolyn,” I grunted to myself as I heaved upwards. “Get…your ass…moving.” Nothing like a little positive self-talk to motivate you, right?

I was doing pretty well and had managed to haul myself up until I had my elbows on the lip of the crumbling hole. I was about to swing one leg up and out and get the hell away from the sink hole that had suddenly and magically appeared under Gram’s bed when that something else I’d been trying not to think about or imagine happened.

Something grabbed my ankle.

Something long and slimy—it felt like a tentacle…no, a tentacle would be cold and clammy but this was horribly hot. It was a tongue, I suddenly realized. And I could just imagine the mouth a tongue like that would come out of—it would be vast and black and full of sharp yellow teeth.

I screamed breathlessly for Grams as I scrambled to get away. Still she didn’t come, but whatever was holding me eased its grip just a little bit—as though maybe it had been scared by my shout.

I pulled harder, feeling the hot, slimy thing slip slowly away from my ankle. I was going to make it—I had to make it out of the pit. Grimly, I pulled upward, my heart pounding, my head spinning. I was so scared I felt lightheaded—like I might faint at any moment. But if I did that, I might as well be signing my own death warrant. I held on to conciseness as tightly as I held on to the lip of the hole.

In the back of my panicked brain I was thinking that I ought to say a spell or work a charm but the magic I do is so much more than words. Most of it is wrapped up in ritual and incantation. It’s kind of hard to work a protection spell which requires all kinds of paraphernalia when you’re hanging on for dear life and trying not to fall into the jaws of a waiting monster. I did mutter a prayer to the Goddess for protection but I doubt she heard me. After all, I hadn’t exactly been working the whitest magic lately.

I was making progress, feeling the thing slip away inch by inch as I clawed my way out of the hole…

And then, as though it had just been toying with me, the slimy tongue-tentacle tightened its grip and gave a mighty heave, like a fisherman reeling in a big one.

Oh my God! I was dragged backwards, my fingernails full of splinters as I clawed desperately to get out of the hole. No…no, no, no! I was in full panic mode now, my heart pounding out of my chest, my body locked into a flight-or-fight response. I screamed for Grams again but of course she didn’t come. She was probably still peacefully asleep and when she woke up, she’d come into her room and see a massive hole going down and down and nothing else because I’d already be digesting in the belly of the beast. First it would eat my body…and then my soul.

“NO!” I screamed, kicking out at the thing. Which didn’t help a damn bit—it just tightened its hold on me and pulled harder. Clearly it had just been toying with me before but now playtime was over and I was about to be lunch. Or a midnight snack—whichever.

Your mind goes through weird thoughts at a time like this and all mine came up with was this: I can’t go now, not like this. I can’t…I can’t. I don’t want to die a virgin!

The minute the thought popped into my head I knew exactly what I had to do—who I had to call. I had sworn never to see him again but this was definitely an extenuating circumstance. I just hoped he wasn’t too pissed at me to answer.

“Laish!” I gasped aloud, still kicking at the ever tightening tongue-tacle. “Laish, please—I know I said to leave me alone but please—I’m in trouble. Please, hellllll…”

The last word was a scream because the thing below me gave one last mighty yank on my ankle and I lost my tenuous grip on the lip of the hole. With a shriek, I went plummeting down into the hole, heading straight into its gaping mouth.

Chapter Three

Laish

I stared in irritation out of the window of the mansion I kept as a place to stay in the Mortal Realm. It was a vast stone structure located on Siesta Key, just outside of Sarasota, Florida. There was a view of my private beach with its pristine white sands. They were some of the most beautiful this realm had to offer and I ought to know—I’d been sitting here for hours, staring at them. The sunset had been particularly breathtaking that evening—all purples and oranges and golds with a fair bit of fiery red at the end which reminded me of my other, more permanent residence.

Which is where I ought to be now, I thought, drumming my fingers on the windowsill. I should sever all ties from this place and attend to other business. And yet, here I still was.

The question was why? The little witch had banished me from her presence over a month ago—so why was I still here?

I stood and began to pace, my fine leather shoes whispering quietly over the rare oriental carpet. It was over five hundred years old and the humans thought it quite an antique. To someone like me, a being older than time itself, the idea was laughable.

Almost as laughable as the idea that a little witch with creamy brown skin and vivid green eyes could have caught my interest and held it. Held it so strongly that though she refused all my advances and sent me away, I still wasn’t able to go.

I should leave. I have business to attend to beyond the Great Barrier. But still I stayed.

I sighed and thought back to the first time I’d laid eyes on Gwendolyn.

It had been a slow day in Hell. The legions under my command were at rest and Lucifer, the ruler of the Infernal Realm, was away. In short, there was nothing to do. So when an imp had come scampering up to inform me that a call was coming over from the other side beseeching demonic help, I was just bored enough to answer it myself rather than delegating it to an underling.

I don’t know what I was expecting to see. It had been years—no, centuries—since I’d bothered to come over to the Mortal Realm. The humans were uncouth savages, hardly worth bothering with, though Lucifer and his ilk were constantly after their souls.

I prefer my own residence in the relatively quiet corner of Hell the ancient Greeks had termed Hades. There I was able to command my legions and tend to business with a minimum of interruption and bother.

The last time I had been to Earth it had been to attend to the tiresome business of the Salem Witch Trials which were badly managed by a lesser demon. Mainly I remembered frantic, hysterical humans dressed in dull homespun clothes shouting and accusing each other. Just thinking about it made me tired.

Everything about the Mortal Realm made me tired—until I saw Gwendolyn.

The sight of the little witch earnestly working her spell had captured me at once. Her creamy café au lait skin and big green eyes were, well…bewitching.

But it wasn’t just her beauty that drew me. After consenting to help her with her spell, I found that she wasn’t just a pretty face. A sharp intelligence and a rare wit radiated from her as well. And she had power—not much by demonic standards but for a human, she was quite impressive.

Gwendolyn wasn’t afraid of me either. After years of seeing others bow and scrape and tremble in my presence, I was tired of abject submission. Gwendolyn was fearless—I liked that about her. I’d been careful to conceal my true status from her, not wanting her to fear me. But I had an idea that even if she had known what I truly was, she still would have stood her ground.

Her beauty, courage, and intelligence were all enchanting. But the thing that sealed my interest in her was the innocence I sensed, just under her surface. Oh, she put on a brave face, my little witch. She painted her eyes with heavy black kohl and dressed to impress those ignorant humans who believed they knew what a witch ought to look like. But under it all she was pure—as pure and innocent and lovely as a single red rose growing in a field of mud.

I wanted to pluck that rose, not simply as a conquest but in order to protect it. Possess it. I wanted Gwendolyn and her innocence for myself, though at times, like now, I was angry with myself for wanting her. But there was something in her that stirred me, something that brought out old habits and behaviors I’d thought were gone forever. Something that reminded me of my past…a past I had worked hard to forget.

Added all together, Gwendolyn’s qualities made her the most interesting mortal I had ever met. In fact, I found her entirely too interesting, which was why I was currently loitering around the human world instead of attending to business in Hell, where I ought to be.

I told myself I would have left long ago if it wasn’t for the door she’d opened on the edge of the Abyss. Hell’s blackest pit, more frightening even than the lake of fire, was located in the very center of the vast, nebulous area that made up the afterlife of the damned. I was certain that even Lucifer himself had no idea where that vast, black void led. But it was nowhere one wanted to be. And certainly nowhere a human ought to risk going.

Yet, Gwendolyn had risked it. She was brave all right—too brave, I thought with a frown. In fact, “reckless” might be a better word to describe her. Tied to her, as I was, I had felt her daring to do what no mere mortal ought to even contemplate. But I had been stuck far away, unable to get to her even when I felt her fear and pain and danger. And now…

Now I fear she must pay the price. I stopped pacing and looked out the window again at the dark beach. What kind of creature had Gwendolyn loosed from the pit? For she had allowed something access to the world of men, I was certain.

I had been to the lip of the Abyss after my last exchange with the little witch and had seen the tiny sliver of light gleaming from the doorway across that vast expanse. It was only a crack but that was all it took. A determined Hellspawn could worm its way through and find her at any time and there wasn’t much I could do about it. Only the one who had opened the door in the first place could close it. And only closing the door could banish the creature back to the Infernal Realm.

I should go, I told myself for the thousandth time. If she hasn’t needed me yet, she will probably be all right. Perhaps her magic is enough to protect her.

I didn’t really believe that, but I couldn’t go on waiting in the Mortal Realm forever. It was ridiculous, anyway, one of my caliber and status waiting around like a love-struck human, hoping to hear her call. She was so certain she could manage on her own—well, fine, let her manage. There were matters that required my attention—matters I had put off long enough.

I came to a sudden decision—it was time to return to Hell. Time to forget the little witch and let her fend for herself. As lovely as she was, she was only a mortal. They burned so brightly for such a very brief time—the glow of their lives like a candle flame against the blackest night sky. It wasn’t worth wasting another moment of my time on such a temporary being, beautiful though she was.

“Serbix,” I called, turning away from the window and summoning an underling.

At once a tiny imp appeared at my elbow. He had reddish skin and two sharp little horns poking out from his forehead. The lesser demons look surprisingly like what mankind has speculated devils should look like all these years. Some say those with weak wills are molded by the mortal expectations, which may be true. Serbix even had a pointed tail and a forked tongue. Any human seeing him couldn’t help but recognize his demonic nature.

“Yes, my Lord Laish?” he squeaked, bowing obsequiously.

“It is time I returned to Hell.” I straightened my cuffs and prepared myself to dematerialize.

“Yes, my Lord.” The imp bobbed another bow. “And this house?”

“I should have no more need of it.” I told myself I didn’t intend to return. Not for another couple of centuries, at least. Maybe by then the humans would have done something interesting with themselves. Or maybe not. They were, after all, humans.

“I will dispose of this Earthly dwelling,” the imp promised, bowing again.

“All but the clothing.” I brushed an invisible speck of lint from my immaculate black jacket. “I rather like it.” There, at least, the humans had improved. Though it wouldn’t take much to be an improvement over the dull, poorly sewn garments the Puritans had worn at those dreary trials…

“I’ll have the clothing sent to your residence in Hell,” the imp said. “Is there anything else, my Lord?”

“No…well, yes.” I cursed myself for a fool but I couldn’t help continuing. “There’s a human girl I’ve been keeping an eye on. Her name is Gwendolyn. Gwendolyn LaRoux.”

“Yes, Master Laish?” the imp asked expectantly.

“There may be something stalking her. A Hellspawn.”

“A Hellspawn? From the pit?” Serbix turned pale, his red skin going a dirty grayish-pink. “But, Master—”

“I want her looked after,” I snapped. “Kept safe. Protected.”

“Protected? A human?” The imp looked at me uncertainly. “Don’t you mean tormented, Master? But I thought you didn’t care for that sort of thing. The other Great Demons—”

“You heard me. I said protected.” I kept my voice low…my tone soft and deadly. “You’re to look after her, Serbix, and if I hear that anything has happened to her—anything at all—you’ll taste the terrors of the Abyss for all eternity. Do you hear?”

“Yes, Master!” Serbix shivered. Not even those that called Hell home wanted to explore those dark reaches, to plumb those bottomless depths and risk the evil of the Ancient Ones that live there.

“Good.” I nodded shortly and took a deep breath, filling my lungs one last time with the sea air. It was a pity, really, that I didn’t intend to return. This was by far the most pleasant location I’d been to in the Mortal Realm. But there was no reason to stay now.

I concentrated, picturing the far reaches of Hell, picturing my home. It was time to go. Time to forget all this foolishness and—

And then I heard her screaming…screaming my name.

Chapter Four

Gwendolyn

I was falling—plummeting down into the darkness. I was certain that any minute I would feel the hot breath of the thing that hunted me, feel those long, yellow teeth closing over my bare legs.

And I would have, too, if a pair of strong, muscular arms hadn’t caught me in midair.

I gasped and clung to my rescuer. At first I was too terrified to know who or what held me. Then the familiar scent of cinnamon surrounded me and I knew it was him—knew it was Laish. I don’t know why people always say that demons smell of fire and brimstone—Laish smells like a warm coffee cake that just came out of the oven. And under that, some other, wilder spice I don’t have a name for.

We seemed to be hovering in midair and I wondered how he was doing it. Demons are able to dematerialize at will but I never heard of any that could fly. I heard a faint rustling sound in the darkness and something soft brushed against my cheek.

“Hold on, Gwendolyn,” he murmured in my ear. “It’s all right now, mon ange, I’ve got you.”

He surged upward somehow and the grip of the slimy tongue around my ankle tightened, pulling me down at the same time. I screamed in agony—it really hurt. I felt like I was being torn in two.

“What is it, Gwendolyn? What’s wrong?” Laish stopped pulling upward and hovered there. In the darkness, his ruby eyes glowed faintly, filled with anxiety.

“It…it’s got me,” I gasped, somehow managing to get the words out of a throat tight with fear and pain. “My leg—it’s wrapped around my leg.” Around my ankle, the slimy tongue-tentacle tightened, as though the creature it belonged to had heard my voice and was prepared to fight for me.

Laish swore under his breath. “No wonder I cannot make any headway.” He looked down into the darkness. “What kind is it? Have you seen it?”

“Only…only in my dreams,” I confessed. “It doesn’t have a head but it has teeth…long, yellow teeth. And it’s hungry.”

He swore again, angrily. “You’ve been having dreams about this thing but you never thought to tell me? This goes beyond reckless, Gwendolyn.”

“I thought they were just dreams,” I protested. “I—”

At that moment the thing down at the bottom of the pit gave another sharp tug. Suddenly I found myself slipping out of Laish’s arms. I screamed piercingly at the pain, wondering if my hip had disconnected from its socket.

“Please,” I gasped. “Oh, no, please!”

Suddenly a sword appeared in Laish’s other hand, the one that wasn’t holding me. It was easy to see in the darkness because the silver blade was actually on fire. I gasped and flinched away from it but he only took a firmer grip on my waist.

“Hold tight to me, Gwendolyn. We’ll be out of here soon.”

I looked down into the darkness which was now illuminated by the fiery sword. The thing wrapped around my ankle and calf was thick and muscular but it wasn’t pink or even red—it was black. A sickly, oozing, grayish-black, coated in slime. I felt my stomach do a slow backflip at the sight. All that disgusting slime was coating my skin and the forked tip of the tongue was inching upward, over my knee, getting closer to my inner thigh…

Laish made a sound of disgust. With one swipe of the burning blade, he severed the slimy tongue thing. It clung a moment longer, then slid down my leg and fell back down into the pit to its owner. There was a hoarse, awful howl of pain and the ragged stump of the tongue hovered in midair, spurting foul, black blood. Then it withdrew, whipping wildly from side to side, spraying the dirt sides of the sink hole with slime.

I felt instant relief the moment the thing was off me. I wanted to get out of there right away but still Laish hovered for a moment more. He shouted something after the thing—something in a sharp, cruel language that hurt my ears—and then we shot upward and were suddenly standing on my Grams’ bedroom floor—what was left of it, anyway. Or I should say Laish was standing—the burning sword was gone and I was in his arms.

Only I didn’t think I could stay there much longer.

“Let me go!” I struggled against him, pressing against his broad chest. “Please, Laish, I have to…I need…”

“All right.” He set me on my feet and I bolted for the bathroom.

I barely got inside and lifted the toilet seat before every bit of wine I’d had that night along with everything else I’d eaten came straight up.

I heaved again…and then again even though my stomach was now empty. The nausea went on and on and on. I didn’t know what was wrong with me—was it a reaction to the extreme terror I’d just been feeling? But it was over now—why couldn’t I stop being sick?

“Gwendolyn…Gwendolyn…” Laish was suddenly beside me, sweeping back my hair and looking at me anxiously.

“Go ‘way,” I ordered him, trying to control my rolling stomach. I might not like him very much but that still didn’t mean I wanted him to watch me toss my cookies.

“I can’t. You’re having a reaction to the slime.”

“The what?” I demanded, and then had to bend over the bowl again. Nothing came up this time although it felt like my body was trying to eject my whole stomach through my mouth. Finally the wave passed and I sat back up and wiped my mouth with a swatch of toilet paper. Laish passed me a cup of water and I rinsed out my mouth. My hand trembled so much I nearly spilled it all over me. I was shaking uncontrollably.

Laish was looking more worried by the minute.

“The slime. Look.” He pointed to my leg—the one the thing’s tongue had been wrapped around. I saw with disgust that it was coated up to the thigh in grayish-black slime.

“Ugh!” My stomach rolled again, threatening to eject the water I’d just had. I put a hand to my aching midsection. “Get it off!” I begged.

“Of course.” Leaning over me, he turned on the tub. As soon as the water began to steam, he grabbed me and dumped me in.

“Hey!” I protested. Half the water in the tub was icy cold and the other half was too hot—they hadn’t had a chance to mix yet. I didn’t know whether to shiver or yelp at the burn.

Laish paid no attention to my protests. He grabbed one of Grams’ pristine white hand towels—the ones she keeps for company only—and began to scrub industriously at my leg.

I wanted to protest his harsh treatment—it felt like he was trying to rub my skin off—but I soon saw it was necessary. The grayish-black slime that coated my skin didn’t want to come off. In fact, in places it looked like it was trying to eat its way in. Seeing that made me feel panicky all over again.

“Get it off!” I begged, rubbing at my leg. “Get it off me, please!”

“I will,” he said grimly. “Just hold still, Gwendolyn.”

I didn’t want to hold still. The stuff was eating into my skin and now it started to burn…burn like acid. I could barely keep myself from screaming as Laish scrubbed my thigh and calf. As he worked, I heard him muttering more words in that strange, harsh language under his breath. It hurt my ears almost as much as the slime was hurting my leg.

At last the burning stopped. Looking down, I saw that the slime was finally peeling away—sloughing off like a snake skin in long, thin, ragged strips.

The sight made me feel sick all over again but somehow I managed to keep from heaving. When the last of the stuff was washed down the drain (where it would no doubt play hell with Grams’ plumbing) I let out a little sob of relief and looked at myself. Despite the acid eating through my flesh sensation, my skin seemed intact, thank the Goddess. It was still my normal creamy brown and just a little red from the scrubbing. My stomach was beginning to feel better too—well, as much as it could after heaving continuously for ten minutes earlier.

Laish sat back with a sigh and rested his forearms on the sides of the tub wearily. I noticed that he was dressed in an immaculately tailored black jacket and crisp white shirt—both of which were completely drenched. His perfect inky-black hair was all rumpled and mussed too. In short, he looked more human than I had ever seen him. Well, except for the burning ruby eyes.

“That was close,” he remarked, shaking his head. “I always forget how fragile you mortals are. You nearly died, Gwendolyn. Twice.”

“I know,” I said and burst into tears.

I hate to sound like a girly-girl because most of the time I’m pretty tough. But I had just been through a lot. Between being pulled down a sinkhole by a demon’s tongue and having a puking reaction to the disgusting slime which nearly ate through my skin like acid, it wasn’t exactly the most peaceful night I’d ever spent. And I’d been forced to call Laish for help and he had seen me at my absolute worst. Not that I cared what he thought of me, I told myself, but still…

“Oh, Gwendolyn…It’s all right. Everything will be all right.” Heedless of his expensive clothes, he leaned into the tub and drew me against him. “Cry if you need to, mon ange,” he murmured. “It’s all right. Cry if it helps.”

Perversely, his whispered words of comfort made me stop crying and straighten up.

“I’m fine,” I said, pulling away from him and swiping at my streaming eyes. “I’m just…fine. Really I am.”

“Certainly you are,” he said dryly. “You just escaped death not once but twice after having to call on one you despise to save you.”

“I don’t despise you,” I said uneasily. “I just don’t like you very much. Not that I’m not grateful you came to save me,” I added quickly.

“You don’t like me because I challenge you,” he said. “You challenge me as well, Gwendolyn which is exactly the reason I do like you. Very much. Especially as you are now…wet and half naked.”

“I’m not half naked,” I protested, feeling my cheeks get hot.

“Oh, no?” His ruby eyes swept over my body, reminding me that I was wearing nothing but a thin white t-shirt and panties, both of which were soaked and clinging to me. I became abruptly aware that my nipples were so hard they hurt—both sensitive peaks clearly visible against the nearly transparent fabric of my t-shirt.

“No,” I said defiantly, while at the same time trying casually to cover my breasts with one arm.

“I would beg to differ,” he murmured, his deep voice low and teasing. “You are half naked, mostly wet, and completely beautiful, Gwendolyn.”

I felt a rush of heat go down my spine at the way he was still looking at me but I shook it off impatiently.

“Five minutes ago I was covered in slime and puking my guts up and now I’m sure I look like a drowned rat,” I said, frowning. “Either you need glasses or you had a lot to drink just before you came to save me.”

“I have perfect vision and alcohol does not affect me,” he murmured, still giving me that look. “Come, let us get you out of that tub.”

He helped me to my feet and out of the tub. While I stood dripping on Grams’ best blue bathmat, Laish grabbed a towel. But when I reached for it, he pulled it back.

“Not just yet, mon ange. First I must examine you.”

“Examine me? What are you talking about?” I demanded.

Laish didn’t answer in words. Instead he dropped to his knees before me and began running his big, warm hands all over my trembling legs.

“What are you doing?” I tried to step away from him but he held me firmly.

“Making sure all the Hellspawn slime is gone. If you have so much as a speck left on you, it can eat its way inside.”

My breath seemed to catch in my throat. “It…it can?”

He nodded. “I am afraid so.”

“What would happen then?” I was looking down anxiously at my legs myself now.

“Eventually it would find your heart and rot you from the inside out.” He looked up at me. “So you will pardon me for being thorough.”

“All right,” I grumbled uneasily. “But no funny business.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He smiled at me charmingly as he ran his long fingers up my inner thigh. “If you wouldn’t mind parting your legs just a little…?”

I did as he said, feeling a hot blush creep into my cheeks. I was well aware that my panties were completely soaked and the white cotton was see-through. I was glad that I’d just had a wax the other day…and then angry with myself for being glad. What did I care what Laish thought of what Grams calls my “ladybusiness”?

I could feel his hot breath against my inner thighs and I couldn’t help thinking I’d never had a guy so close down there before. My skin broke out in a rash of chillbumps and my heart started to speed up as I waited for him to make some kind of a move…or at least make a lascivious comment.

But Laish surprised me. He simply examined me thoroughly and then nodded, as though in satisfaction.

“All right. You’re clean.” He stood in one smooth motion and wrapped the towel around me.

“What—that’s it?” I couldn’t help asking.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you disappointed? I hope you didn’t imagine I would make advances on you in your current weakened condition.”

“I’m not weak.” I drew myself up, wishing it was true. “And I’m not disappointed. Just…surprised.”

“Just because I come from the realm of lust and evil doesn’t mean I am not a gentleman.” His ruby eyes flashed. “Besides—there’s no sport in taking advantage of a woman already in a compromising position. I much prefer a long, drawn-out seduction, mon ange.”

I bit my lip, my heart beating double time again for some reason.

“You know you’ll never seduce me. I’ll never give it up for you, Laish, even if you did save my life. Twice.”

His eyes flashed again. “That remains to be seen. Now, have you anything dry to change into? We need to talk.”

I thought about going into my room for new clothes, but then I risked waking Grams. Noises don’t bother her while she’s wearing her Darth Vader mask but movement around her bed wakes her up every time. And while she would have to be told everything that had happened eventually (the giant sinkhole in her bedroom was going to be impossible to hide) I decided I would rather wait until after Laish was gone to let her know what had happened.

Looking around the bathroom, I saw my fuzzy pink bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. That should be warm and comfortable and it wouldn’t show anything I wanted to keep hidden—aka, the aforementioned “ladybusiness.”

“I’ve got something,” I told Laish. “You can wait in the living room.”

“Don’t be long,” he said, and left, closing the door behind him.

I slipped out of the wet t-shirt and panties and pulled on the robe. Although I didn’t like being naked beneath it, there wasn’t much else I could do.

Next I took a look at my poor fingernails. They were pretty ragged from all the clawing I’d done at the lip of the sinkhole and I still had a splinter beneath one of them—my right index finger. I pulled it out, wincing at the sharp little pain and ran some cool water over it. It was bleeding so I wrapped a band aid from the medicine cabinet around it. That was going to hurt for a while.

With my hands tended to, I took a moment to brush my teeth, getting rid of the last of the bad taste, and ran a pick through my hair. Then, feeling more human, I belted the robe tightly and walked out into the living room where Laish was pacing back and forth.

“All right,” I said. “Let’s talk.”

Chapter Five

Laish

“All right, let’s talk,” the little witch said, putting a hand on her hip.

I frowned at her, trying to control my irritation. Did she not realize what peril she had been in? If I hadn’t come to her the moment she called, she would be dead by now, both her body and soul digesting in the belly of the voracious Hellspawn. And yet she was acting as if nothing had happened.

“Yes, let us talk,” I said, going over to the couch. I sat and patted a spot beside me. “Come here.”

She came—reluctantly, I thought—and settled beside me, not where I had indicated but on the far side of the couch. She crossed her arms and legs tightly as she turned to face me, presenting a closed face and a tight mouth. Clearly she expected to be lectured.

I had been prepared to give her exactly what she was expecting. But the mulish expression on her lovely face changed my mind. I would never get through to her that way—another tactic was needed to get my little witch to see sense.

I leaned back on the couch, one arm across the back of its faded floral fabric in a pose of relaxation completely opposite to her tense, rigidly upright posture.

“You’re going to die soon, you know,” I remarked conversationally. “I mean, even sooner than most humans, which is saying something since your mortal lives are over in the blink of an eye anyway.”

“What?” She looked at me blankly.

“But first,” I continued, “All those that you love are going to die in various horrible ways, right before your eyes. Your beloved grandmother included.”

“What?” She was angry now, her vivid green eyes narrowed and her lush lips a tight line. “How dare you say that to me?”

“I’m simply stating the truth.” I drummed my fingers idly on the back of the couch. “You didn’t close the door you opened into the Abyss. I have been there and seen it, Gwendolyn.”

“If you went and saw it, why didn’t you close it?” she demanded. “Or did you just want to teach me a lesson?”

“By exposing you to a vicious creature from Hell’s blackest pit?” I raised an eyebrow at her. “That would seem to be what they call “overkill” don’t you think? No, the reason I did not close the door is that only the one who opened it may close it—the door will react only to the touch of one who bears your soul signature. If you didn’t know that already, you had no business opening it in the first place.”

“All right, I knew it,” she grumbled. “I just thought, since you’re a demon…”

“Even my power is not limitless, mon ange,” I told her. “And there are rules to be obeyed. Principles which govern all of Hell and cannot be broken on a simple whim.”

“Fine. So I didn’t shut the door. I thought I did, though,” she said earnestly. “I could have sworn I did.”

“In that you were wrong. The Hellspawn came for you because you let it—you opened a way for it. You were careless and now you must pay—and all your loved ones will pay with you.”

“Why do you keep saying that? Why should it want to kill the people I love?” she demanded.

I frowned at her. “As to why it wants to kill those you love, the Hellspawn will seek to inflict maximum pain and suffering on its victim before it finally hunts them down and kills them. The fear and anguish spices the meat, giving it just the right flavor. Or so I am told.”

“You’re sick,” she flared. “And lying. It was coming for me. I’m the one it almost took!”

“Because you were in your grandmother’s room. It was going to take her first,” I pointed out.

She put a hand to her mouth. “Oh my God… how did it even get in here in the first place? Grams has every single door and window covered in the strongest protection spells.”

“You may have noticed that it used neither a door nor a window,” I said dryly. “It tunneled in from beneath, neatly avoiding your human magic.”

Gwendolyn looked so ill I felt sorry for her—not that I would show it. She would never learn if I allowed myself to show too much compassion.

“But if it was coming for Grams…”

“It was. And I promise you, Gwendolyn, that it will hunt down everyone you love. Is there someone besides your grandmother that you hold dear?”

Her face went pale. “Keisha,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry, who?” I leaned forward, inclining my head toward her.

“No one.” She shook her head tightly. “All right, I get it—this thing is after me and everyone I love. So what can I do about it?”

“Nothing.” I shrugged, as though I didn’t care.

“Nothing?” She stared at me, her eyes wide and incredulous. “Nothing?”

I gave her a slow smile.

“I am afraid not. Not by yourself, anyway.”

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

I lifted my chin and glared at Laish defiantly. “That’s bullshit. I opened the door, I’ll just go close it.”

Laish frowned. “You are not so foolish as to believe it will be that simple, Gwendolyn. Opening a door onto the Abyss is relatively easy—it can be done in spirit form, as you did the night you dragged your friend back from the afterlife. Closing it again, however…” He shook his head. “Is quite a different matter.”

“All right,” I said grudgingly. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy. But if I opened it, I should be able to close it. Right?”

“Not in spirit form.” Laish leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and stared at me intently. “The only way you can close the door completely is to go through the seven circles of Hell as you are now, in your corporeal form, and physically close it.”

I stared at him blankly. Was he crazy?

“But I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that. It’s dangerous enough going through the Shadow Lands and up to the Great Barrier. If I go past that and into Hell itself, I’ll get stuck there forever.”

Laish sat back, that annoying smirk playing around the corner of his luscious mouth. “Only if you go alone and unescorted.”

I was beginning to get a very bad feeling about this. “What are you saying?”

“It is more what I am offering,” he corrected. “And what I am offering is to take you through the seven circles to the very edge of the Abyss. I will keep you safe and be certain you are not molested.”

I put a hand on my hip. “In return for what? And don’t play innocent with me, Laish. You and I both know that demons don’t give anything for free.”

“You wound me, mon ange. Do you really believe me to be so usurious?”

“I believe you’ll take what you can get,” I said grimly. “The question is, am I willing to give it.”

“No, Gwendolyn.” Laish spoke quietly but his eyes gleamed in the dim lamp light. “The question is, what price will you pay to keep your loved ones safe from the evil you have brought upon them? What price can you put on love? Some might say no sum is high enough.” He shrugged. “Of course, those that speak such foolishness have human emotions which I, fortunately, am not burdened with.”

I felt my mouth go dry. “What do you want?” I managed to ask. “The rights to my eternal soul? Are we going to strike some kind of Faustian bargain here?”

Laish laughed, a low, rumbling sound that might have been pleasant to hear under other circumstances. Now I found it incredibly annoying.

“Not at all, mon ange. Contrary to popular belief, not every being who lives in Hell is bent on collecting souls. I have no interest in or use for your celestial spirit.”

“What then?” I demanded, though in my heart, I already knew what he was going to say.

His eyes burned like fire. “It is not your soul I crave but your innocence—that rare flower you keep to yourself, unsullied and unplucked by any up until now.”

“Well isn’t that a fancy way of saying you want to sleep with me,” I said flatly. “I already told you, Laish—I’m not giving it up for you.”

“You won’t have to…not all at once,” he murmured, still giving me that intense, burning look that made me feel naked. “Didn’t I tell you I prefer a slow seduction, Gwendolyn?”

“You…you did say something like that.” I wanted to look away from his burning gaze but somehow I couldn’t. Under my fuzzy bathrobe my nipples were suddenly so tight they ached and there was a heat growing between my thighs that was hard to ignore. I crossed my legs more tightly, glad I was on the far side of the couch from him.

“Therefore, we will take things step by step. Little by little you will give yourself to me. You will open to me slowly but you will open.”

“But will you make me…will I have to sleep with you…in the end?” I could barely get the words out.

Laish gave me a lazy smile. “That is for me to know, mon ange. But I promise that if we do make love, it will be because you want to, because you are aching with need—so tormented with unfulfilled desire that you cannot help yourself. And then you will give yourself gladly.”

“You’re delusional,” I scoffed—or tried to. My words came out as more of a squeak. “You think this is some kind of victory? Forcing an unwilling woman to have sex with you?”

“Firstly, I have not said that we will, in fact, have sex, as you put it. And secondly, you will not be unwilling. In fact, you’re not unwilling now.”

Suddenly he was sitting right beside me—so close I could feel the heat of his big body radiating against my side.

“Ma cher,” he murmured, caressing my cheek softly with his knuckles. “So beautiful, so untouched. I cannot wait to taste and pleasure you. To hear the soft sounds you make when you come for me.”

“I…you…” Somehow the words wouldn’t come out. “I’m not…I don’t want…”

“Yes, you do.” His voice was soft and low. I wanted to pull away from the gentle touch of his hand but I found I was frozen. “I can smell your lust, my darling,” he murmured, still stroking my cheek. “It perfumes the air around you no matter how tightly you close your thighs.” He inhaled deeply, his eyes never leaving mine. “How I look forward to breathing you in, tasting your sweetness right from the source.”

“Y-you can’t,” I stuttered. “I’ve never—”

“But you will,” he assured me in that low, gentle voice. “We will together, one slow step at a time. And if we do finally make love, you will enjoy yourself to the fullest, I promise you that.”

I opened my mouth to reply but just then my Grams stalked in, wearing the twin of my own fuzzy bathrobe only hers was green. She had a frown on her face and her arms were crossed over her considerable bosom. I couldn’t tell if she had heard Laish or not.

“Grams!” I said, jumping up and smoothing down my bathrobe guiltily.

“Gwendolyn,” she said, glaring at me. “Just what is going on here, young lady? Who is this man and what is he doing here in the middle of the night?”

Chapter Six

Gwendolyn

Grams was really not happy to hear where I was going and who I was going with. And by really not happy I mean completely pissed off.

“You’re not going,” she said, glaring at me. “You’re not going and that’s final, young lady.”

“Grams,” I said patiently. “You don’t understand—I have to.”

“I do understand. I understand that you’re talking about going into Hell—Hell, Gwendolyn—and you’re going with a demon you called up from the pit.”

“Actually I live in the part of Hell the ancient Greeks termed Hades,” Laish said blandly. “It’s quite scenic—I even have a lovely pomegranate tree in my front yard.”

“Oh, you think you’re so smart, young man,” Grams snapped. “I know exactly what you’re trying to say.”

“What?” I demanded. “What is he trying to say?”

“The food in Hell,” Grams said. “You can’t eat any of it. Can’t drink anything there either.”

“What? Why not? What does that have to do with where he lives?”

Laish tksed. “Not up on your mythology, Gwendolyn? The story of Persephone and Demeter? The way the God of the dead stole the lovely Persephone away and she was forced to stay with him six months of the year after eating six pomegranate seeds?”

“That’s a myth,” I protested. “A story the Greeks made up to explain why we have summer and winter. Nothing can grow in the winter because Demeter, the Goddess of harvests, is grieving for her daughter Persephone while she is forced to stay in Hell. In summer when she’s allowed to go back, the whole world blooms.”

“There are seeds of truth—you should pardon the pun—in every myth, mon ange,” Laish said. “Your grandmother is quite right—you must not eat or drink anything while you are in Hell or you will be forced to stay there which I know you do not want.”

“Well what am I supposed to do?” I asked blankly. “I’m assuming this is going to take more than an hour or two.”

“To journey through the seven circles of Hell will take at least a week—maybe a bit more,” Laish remarked.

“I thought there were nine circles according to Dante,” I protested. “And anyway, how am I supposed to not eat or drink anything for a week? I’ll be too weak to shut the door once we get to the Abyss.”

“Dante was a tourist, sadly lacking in accuracy. And believe me, once you have been there, you will find that seven circles are more than enough for your mortal taste.” He shook his head. “As to the food, do not worry, mon ange. I will provide you with sustenance and drink that will not bind you to my realm,” he assured me.

Grams shook her head. “You’ll do no such thing because Gwendolyn is not going.”

“Grams,” I said, taking her by the arm. “Let me show you something.”

I took her to her bedroom and flipped on the lights. Her eyes grew wide as she took in the enormous sinkhole in the center of the room.

“Gwendolyn child, what—?”

“This is why I have to go,” I said, gesturing to the yawning pit where her bed had once stood. “A Hellspawn did this—a creature from the pit that I let in when I was rescuing Taylor.”

“You should never have done that.” She shook her head, her eyes still wide and sad. “Gwendolyn, if I had known—”

“I kept it from you because I was afraid of what you might think of me.” I looked down at my feet. “I’m sorry, Grams. I, uh, sort of got off track. Way off track. But I couldn’t just leave Taylor to die. I felt responsible for her. And I thought I closed that stupid door. But I didn’t and now…now this thing is loose and tonight it wasn’t coming after me—it was coming after you. If we hadn’t switched rooms…”

Grams looked pale but she shook her head.

“Don’t go on my account, Gwendolyn. Now that I know what to look for, I can manage just fine.”

“You can, maybe,” I said in a low voice. “But what about Keisha?”

“Keisha.” Her eyes grew wide with understanding. “She’s outside my sphere of influence now.”

“Exactly,” I said grimly. “And this thing might go after her next. It’s going to go after everyone I love—unless I stop it.”

“Your granddaughter is quite correct,” Laish said, coming up behind us and making me jump. “I was able to banish it back to the Infernal Realm for tonight but it knows its way back and the door is still open. It will return.”

“But if it’s going after your loved ones, what good will it do for you to go to Hell, child?” Grams was almost pleading now.

“As long as Gwendolyn stays here, you and everyone else she loves is in danger because it would prefer to make her suffer first before hunting her down,” Laish explained. “However, she is still its primary target. If she leaves here and comes with me on this quest, it will follow her. She will be drawing it away from her loved ones.”

“By acting as bait? You’re saying I should let her go to Hell with the thing that did this to my bedroom stalking her?” Grams demanded.

“I’m saying you should let her clean up her own mess,” Laish said quietly. “A door opening onto the Abyss will not only affect Gwendolyn and her family. After it deals with the lot of you, the Hellspawn will look for other victims. Innocents which will have no idea they are being hunted until it is too late.”

I took her hands in mine. “I have to go, Grams,” I said quietly, looking into her eyes. “Please, I have to.”

She squeezed my fingers tightly. “But how can I be sure you’ll be safe? Gwendolyn, child, you’re all I’ve got now.”

“I will attend to Gwendolyn’s safety,” Laish said.

Grams turned to him, her faded eyes blazing with anger.

“Oh, I just bet you will. And what do you get out of all this?” she demanded. “Why would you bother putting yourself out for her in the first place?”

Oh boy, here we go… If Laish told my grandmother about our “agreement” all Hell was going to break loose—and not from his side—from hers. I tried to signal him with my eyes not to say anything about our deal and to my relief, he didn’t. What he did say, surprised me.

“Would you believe me if I said that I want a chance to win Gwendolyn’s heart?” he said quietly. “That I long to spend more time with her in hopes that she might see past my demonic exterior and learn to love the male within?”

Grams glared at him. “No. No. And hell no.”

He sighed theatrically. “I can see you think that as a denizen of the demonic realm, I have no honor.”

“No honor, no heart, and no soul,” Grams emphasized and I knew she was pointing out that even if Laish had been serious about wanting to “win my heart,” he couldn’t have. You can’t form a loving soul-bond with someone who doesn’t have a soul to bond with in the first place.

“Very well then,” Laish said blandly. “I will tell you the true reason. From the moment I answered Gwendolyn’s first call, she became my responsibility. Leaving a door open from the Abyss to the world of men is a serious fault—one which I will be punished for soundly if it is not dealt with. And, as only one with Gwendolyn’s soul signature can close the door that she opened, I must escort her through my realm so that she can resolve the matter before it reaches the attention of my superior.”

“He’s just a minor demon, Grams,” I put in. “He’ll get in trouble over what I did if he doesn’t help me fix it.”

Laish got an amused look on his face. “A minor demon. Exactly.” He raised an eyebrow at Grams. “So are you satisfied?”

“Not nearly,” she snapped. “What assurance do I have that you’ll bring Gwendolyn back to me after she’s done closing that door? How do I know you won’t just toss her aside the minute the matter’s resolved?”

She had a point. I couldn’t help the shiver that went up my spine when I remembered those dark, slimy tentacles slithering over and over each other in the black depths of that vast pit. What if Laish simply decided to push me into the Abyss once he got my virginity and the door was closed? My power would be cut in half if he insisted that we have sex but even at full power, there was no way I would be able to escape that dark place. What if—?

My thoughts were cut off as Laish abruptly seemed to grow larger somehow, his ruby eyes burning like hot coals.

“Now you have truly angered me.” His voice was so quiet I could barely hear it but so intense it felt like a flame, burning me.

To Grams’ credit, she didn’t back down, despite Laish’s scary appearance.

“You don’t scare me, demon—I don’t care if I made you mad or not.” She poked a finger at his broad chest. “Answer the question. What promise can you give that I’ll believe? How do I know you’ll bring my precious girl back to me?”

Laish sighed and seemed to melt down to his normal size—which was still pretty freaking huge, to be honest. For a minor demon, he was certainly on the large and muscular side.

“If I say I will bring her back because she is precious to me too, you will not believe me,” he said. “And I cannot swear on my soul because—as you have pointed out—I do not have one. Likewise, I cannot swear on what I am—you have made it abundantly clear that you don’t trust me.” He raked a hand through his jet black hair—a very human gesture of frustration, I thought. “All I can do is swear on what I once was.”

“What were you?” I asked, unable to hold back my curiosity. If my knowledge of mythology was correct, some of the major demons had originated in Heaven before the fall. But the minor ones were supposed to have been born the moment Hell was created, appearing like toadstools springing up after the rain. Not a very pretty image but then, most minor demons aren’t very pretty themselves. Laish was a definite exception there.

“I was not always as you see me now,” he answered simply, still looking at my Grams. “I had honor once. Integrity. The capacity for love.”

“You did?” I wondered if this was all an act just to placate Grams. If so, he deserved a freaking Oscar for it—it was that convincing.

“I did.” Laish nodded at me briefly and then looked back at Grams. “For the sake of what I once was, I will keep your granddaughter safe and bring her back to you. No harm shall befall her that does not first go through me.”

“Is that right?” Grams still sounded skeptical. “You’re saying you’ll protect her with your life?”

Laish looked at her seriously. “Not a drop of Gwendolyn’s blood will fall unless every bit of my own has first been spilled. All right?”

Grams looked at him for a long moment and then, grudgingly, she nodded.

“All right. I guess I’ll trust you because that’s all I can do. But you’d just better bring her back. And I mean, bring her back intact.” She gave me a look when she said it that made me blush and look away. I knew exactly what she was talking about but I couldn’t make any promises. Especially not when I’d already agreed to let Laish take what Grams would call “liberties” the entire time we were in Hell.

“Very well.” He rose from the couch and inclined his head to me. “I’ll give you a day to get ready. I’ll be back for you at the stroke of midnight tomorrow. Be prepared.”

“The stroke of midnight? What am I—Cinderella?” I demanded. “Why midnight? Is it the only time you can get into Hell or what?”

“No,” he said mildly. “It just has such a nice, dramatic sound. After all, if you’re going to Hell, mon ange, you might as well go in style.” He gave me a devilish grin and before I could reply, he vanished in a puff of cinnamon smelling smoke.

Chapter Seven

Gwendolyn

“Now, have you got everything, child?” Grams looked at me anxiously.

“I think so.” I looked down at the bag she’d packed me. It was a plain leather satchel with a long shoulder strap I could wear across my body for security. Inside was a plain plastic water bottle—a Zephyrhills bottle to be exact, because that’s my favorite brand of spring water—as well as a faded plastic sandwich container. It was yellow and blue—an old Sponge Bob holder, left over from when Keisha was in grade school.

It always amazed me how Grams kept everything but in this case, I was glad. Sponge Bob’s cheerful, goofy face would remind me of home while I was traversing the seven circles of Hell.

“Now the bottle is spelled to never be empty,” Grams told me, even though she’d already said it twice before. “No matter how often you drink from it, you’ll still have clean, fresh water every time you put it to your lips.”

“Thanks, Grams,” I said, smiling.

“And the sandwich container will always have food. I only had time to spell it to have one kind of sandwich, though. Chunky peanut butter and my homemade strawberry jam. I hope that’s okay,” she said anxiously.

I hadn’t had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in years—it’s one of those foods you give up as an adult when you realize how incredibly fattening peanut butter is. But I recognized this was just Grams trying to take care of me—it was the same sandwich she’d packed me when she sent me off to school as a little girl. I was probably going to get pretty tired of it before my trip to the realm of the damned was done, but right now it sounded perfect.

“That’s my favorite,” I told Grams gently. “Thank you so much.”

“Oh, child…” She shook her head, her eyes sad. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this. I can’t believe I’m letting you go.”

“We’ve been over this, Grams,” I said softly. “I have to go. This thing is relentless, and while you and I might be able to protect ourselves,” (although I had my doubts about that,) “If it came after Keisha…”

“You’re right. You’re right…” She shook her head. “If only she would have listened to my warnings. After all she’s been through, I doubt she’s got even a hundredth part of the natural power she was born with left.”

“That’s Ray’s fault,” I said angrily, the old, helpless rage rising inside me.

“Not all of it. She went wrong long before she met him,” Grams said. She frowned. “Just like you went wrong when you started seeking to do that spell to get vengeance on him.”

“It’s not just a vengeance spell,” I protested. “If it works—”

“It’s not going to because you’re not doing it.” Grams glared at me. “You’re already putting your soul at risk enough. If—no, when you come back from this trip—I want you to put it all behind you. Keisha made her choice and she’s just like your mama was—stubborn.”

“But if—”

“You can’t save those that don’t want to be saved, child,” Grams said softly. She sighed. “Besides, she has no power of her own left anymore and you know she was always so proud of what she could do…before. Such potential and all of it wasted…” She sounded sad.

I thought about the fate of my little sister and shivered. Every time a witch has sex without forming a soul-bond, her power is halved. After the life that Keisha had led, being passed from man to man…her power waning with each loveless encounter…Grams was right. She wouldn’t be able to help herself, even if she wanted to.

Was that going to be my fate too? Would I lose myself and my power to Laish as he seemed so certain I would?

No, I promised myself firmly. He’d said that he wouldn’t force me to have sex with him. Instead, he seemed to think I would want to at some point. Want to badly enough to not mind losing half my power and all my self-respect.

Well, he was wrong about that. No matter what else happened or what else I let him do, I wasn’t going to let him do that, I promised myself. No matter how hot he was or how it made my stomach flutter when he touched me. I wasn’t going there. I just wasn’t.

“If only your sister had waited for the right man,” Grams said, interrupting my fervent promise to myself. “I knew when I met your grandpa, you know. I knew he was the one I’d been waiting for. And on our wedding night, when I finally gave myself to him—”

“Grams,” I said uneasily.

“No, listen to me, Gwendolyn. On that night, when I gave myself to him body and soul, I felt the bond form,” she said. “It was like…like a golden cord, binding us together. It was so beautiful, so right. I just knew we’d be together forever.” She sighed. “And we would be, too, if his heart had held out.”

“Oh, Grams…” I put an arm around her shoulders. My grandfather had died when I was just ten but I had plenty of memories of the big, smiling man who used to ride me around on his shoulders and tell corny jokes to make my Grams laugh. Grams still grieved for him, all these years later, and she had never even considered marrying again, though she was still a very nice looking woman for her age.

Just then the grandfather clock in the hallway began to chime. This was it—my time was up and it was time to do what had to be done. Grams and I looked at each other and her hand slipped into mine. I squeezed it tightly as we waited together. Bong…bong…bong…bong… the clock chimed on and on.

Right on cue, on the last chime, Laish appeared in a puff of smoke. He was wearing another one of his expensive, tailored suits with a crisp, blood-red shirt open at the throat. I couldn’t help thinking that the color suited him. It was just a few shades lighter than his eyes and it made his inky black hair even blacker. The shoulders of the jacket draped over his broad shoulders impressively—he looked like a Fortune 500 businessman.

I couldn’t help looking down at myself, contrasting my own outfit with his. I’d had no idea what to wear but since we were going to be traveling through a strange region, (major understatement, I know) I had decided to dress like I was going on a long plane trip. Accordingly, I had on a pair of jeans, a dark green t-shirt, which I had tucked in, and some comfortable black ballet flats I knew I could walk in for hours without pain. Not that I thought we would be hiking through Hell—at least I certainly hoped not. But I was prepared if I had to.

I had an extra shirt and a pair of jeans as well as a lined windbreaker stowed in my leather satchel under the water bottle and Sponge Bob sandwich container. I know Hell is supposed to be hot, but Laish had made a comment to me before, that parts of it were terribly cold and lonely. So I had made sure to bring the jacket along with a change of clothes.

In the pocket of the windbreaker was one more thing I thought I might need—two antique silver coins from Grams to pay the ferryman. After Laish had accused me of not being up on my mythology, I had done a little research. I had no idea if the river Styx and its skeletal ferryman, Charon, were real or completely mythical but I wasn’t taking any chances. To the best of my ability, I was prepared.

I hoped.

Laish’s eyes flickered over me—was that a look of disapproval I saw on his face? Or something else? He said nothing, however, except to ask if I was ready to go.

“As ready as I’m going to be,” I said. I gave Grams one last hug. She held on so tightly, I was afraid she wasn’t going to let go.

“Come back to me safe and sound,” she whispered at last. Then she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and finally released me. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears as she looked from me to Laish. “Take care of her,” she said, in a voice that trembled only a little.

“I will,” Laish said simply. He took my hand in his and looked into my eyes. The expression on his face was so intense it sent a cool shiver down my spine. I couldn’t help remembering our bargain and wondering if he intended to collect on his debt the minute we landed in Hell. What would he do to me? What—?

“Fear not, Gwendolyn,” he murmured. “Just take a deep breath. We’ll be there before you know it.”

I opened my mouth to reply but just then I felt a hot wind rush over me, scouring my entire body from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

Then, abruptly, it ended.

“It’s over now,” Laish said quietly. “You can open your eyes.”

I hadn’t even been aware of closing my eyes in the first place but when I opened them, I saw we were standing someplace else. Someplace dark and hazy with a red tinge to the black sky.

Hell.

Chapter Eight

Laish

I watched my little witch with some trepidation, wanting to make sure she took the dematerialization and rematerialization all right. She seemed a bit shaken at first but she adapted quickly, taking a deep breath and moving away from me as soon as she could.

I frowned. I had hoped that being in such threatening surroundings would bring her closer to me, rather than driving her away. But she was wary of me—I could see the guarded look in her lovely green eyes. Inwardly, I sighed. Clearly I would have to work harder to gain her trust. Which wasn’t going to be easy considering the trip we were about to undertake and the way we were going to have to travel.

“Wow.” Gwendolyn gave a shaky little laugh and tried to straighten her long black hair, which had been blown about during our trip. “That was some ride.”

“It is the fastest and most efficient way to travel,” I told her modestly. “It is a pity we cannot simply dematerialize straight to the edge of the Abyss but there are laws governing movement through the circles of Hell which may not be broken, even by me.”

She sighed. “Of course—there are always laws. Anyway, it’s a lot faster than the way I usually get here.”

“How do you travel to the Shadow Lands?” I asked. I knew she had been here, on Hell’s front doorstep before, but I had never accompanied her on any of her trips.

“It’s a long, complicated spell with a lot of expensive ingredients. It’s a real pain in the ass because if you don’t do it just right, it doesn’t work and then you have to start all over again.” She shook her head ruefully. “I tried something like fifty times and spent two months income before I finally got it right the first time.”

“Fifty trials?” I raised an eyebrow at her. “You must have wanted to get here badly.”

“I had to,” she said, looking down. “There were…things I needed here that I couldn’t get anywhere else.”

“Things to work the revenge spell you’ve been trying to gather ingredients for?” I asked.

I confess I wanted to know more about that particular spell—specifically, who Gwendolyn wanted revenge on badly enough to risk her immortal soul in order to get it. What had they done to her to raise the little witch’s ire…or a better question might be what would I do to them when I found out? I felt a possessive growl rise in my throat and swallowed it with some difficulty. Why did she affect me so? I had no answer.

“Well?” I said, when she didn’t reply.

“That’s none of your business,” she snapped.

“Oh, I think it is.” I went to her, crushing the plentiful demon’s breath plants that grew in the arid soil under my feet and releasing their sickly sweet, rotten-ripe smell. “Let us have an understanding right here and now, Gwendolyn,” I said.

“What?” She wouldn’t look at me so I lifted her chin, gently but firmly, and looked into her eyes. “What?” She repeated, meeting my gaze at last. The look on her lovely face was half defiant, half fearful.

“You and I will be traveling together through difficult and dangerous terrain,” I told her, still holding her eyes with mine. “You will forgo your usual defiance and treat me with courtesy—the same courtesy I will show to you.”

“You mean the courtesy you showed me when you told me I would have to…have to ‘yield’ to you while we were here?” she demanded.

I sighed. “So that is the crux of the matter. Of course—I should have known.”

“Yes, you freaking well should have.” She crossed her arms protectively over her breasts and I couldn’t help noticing that there were two spots of color high on her cheeks. “If you know anything about witches you know I can’t really ‘yield’ to you. At least, not all the way. If I do…”

“Your power will be halved. Yes, I know,” I told her gently. “But I am not asking you to give yourself to me simply for my own gratification, mon ange. It is a necessary sacrifice if you wish to travel through the Infernal Realm.”

She shook her head. “How can it possibly be necessary for me to have sex with you just to travel through Hell? I don’t understand.”

“No,” I said, cupping her cheek—which felt hot in my palm. “But you will.”

Her cheeks got even darker and her breathing seemed to quicken. She pulled away from me. “Don’t do that. Don’t touch me.”

“You must get used to my touch,” I told her grimly. “Before this trip is over you will feel my hands over every inch of your flesh.” I knew she wouldn’t like that part and sure enough, she opened that lush little mouth of hers to complain. I raised one finger, cutting her off. “Again, it will be a necessary sacrifice,” I told her. “As will the fact that while we are here, you will be traveling as my concubine.”

“Your what?” She shook her head. “Oh, no—I don’t think so. What the hell are you talking about, anyway?”

I was rapidly losing my patience. “What we are talking about is the fact that I am smuggling you—a living corporeal being with an intact and non-damned soul—into Hell,” I told her. “The only way anyone will believe I am doing this without suspicion is if you travel as someone of consequence to me—specifically, my concubine.”

“Look, Laish, I don’t care what kind of bargain we made—I am not going to be your sex slave the whole time we’re here.”

Her eyes were wide and angry which didn’t surprise me. I had known she wouldn’t like this little detail—which is why I had purposefully left it out before.

“You will be my concubine in name only,” I said. “But you will agree to this ruse or I will not take you a step further.”

“I…you…this is blackmail!” she burst out, obviously furious.

“Call it what you like,” I told her evenly. “But from the time we pass the Great Barrier until we reach the final circle of Hell—the Abyss—you will belong to me and obey my orders. And you will start by wearing this.”

I reached into the air and pulled out the outfit I had chosen for her. I didn’t intend to argue with her anymore. I enjoyed her sharp wit and her stubborn nature but in this, I would not be refused.

“Put it on,” I said, pressing the garment forcefully into her arms. “And let’s hear no more about it.”

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

I stared at the clingy red gown he’d shoved into my hands with shock and incomprehension. The fabric was incredibly thin and filmy and it had spaghetti straps, meaning I couldn’t wear a bra under it. It was going to show damn near everything.

“You’re joking,” I said, looking up at Laish, who was scowling down at me. “You can’t expect me to wear this thing. I might as well prance into Hell naked.”

“I assure you, Gwendolyn, that can be arranged.” His deep voice was steely and I could see he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Not that it stopped me from trying.

“I’m not wearing this,” I said, trying to shove it back at him. “No way in Hell—literally.”

“Then there is no way in Hell that you are getting past the Great Barrier.” He nodded to the burning stone wall which encircled the realm of the damned. It rose hundreds of feet into the sky but it was still dwarfed by the gates. Glowing gold and red, their enormous wrought iron wings towered like a monolith over the Shadow Lands.

I put a hand on my hip. “What—you won’t take me in if I don’t meet your personal dress code?”

He frowned. “No, I refuse to take you in and risk someone knowing who and what you are because you are dressed like a second rate tourist.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my clothes,” I said defensively.

“No, if you are going on a tour of the Vatican or the Great Pyramid of Giza or some other Earthly landmark,” he snapped. “Here they single you out as an easy mark.”

I could feel my resolve wavering but I tried not to show it. “What—people don’t wear jeans in Hell?” I asked.

Laish gave my comfortable jeans a scathing look. “They do not. Those ridiculous trousers mark you for what you are—a living human in the lands of the dead and damned.”

“Is that really so dangerous?” I asked.

“In a word—yes.” Laish gave a short, sharp nod. “Even dressed in the clothing I have provided, you will be at considerable risk, Gwendolyn. Though I myself have no interest in your soul, there are many who think otherwise. Demons with quotas to fulfill who will be skinned or maimed by their superiors if they fail. Soul scalpers who make a living selling the unwary to the unprincipled. And simple thieves who steal whatever is unattended. Remember, Hell is the realm of sin and corruption. You cannot trust anyone here.”

“What about you?” I asked, my voice cracking a little as I remembered my earlier fears that he would take what he wanted and then abandon me. “Can I trust you while we’re here? Can I really, Laish?”

“Did you not hear the pledge I gave to your grandmother?” he demanded.

“I know what you told Grams but I thought…” I shook my head. “You were just saying that to make her feel better, right? I mean, you don’t really care about me, any more than I care about you. We’re just sort of working together to get this done. Right?”

“Just working together…” Laish mused in a low voice. “Is that how you see it?”

“Well, it’s better than thinking that I’m prostituting myself to you in order to get through Hell and shut that damn door,” I snapped, my nerves worked to the breaking point.

“I suppose so.” Laish sighed and gave me a long look. Then he stepped forward and cupped my cheek again, looking down into my eyes. I wanted to pull away from his gentle touch, which sent shivers all through me, but something stopped me. “Yes, Gwendolyn,” he murmured. “You can trust me. And if an oath is necessary to satisfy, I swear it—not on my soul, as I have none—but on yours. I will not leave you or forsake you. I will protect you with my life—but in order to do that, I need for you to trust me.”

“I…I’ll try,” I said in a small voice. Damn it, why did he always make me feel so unsure of myself? And why did his hand on my skin make my stomach flutter and my heart race? It was ridiculous but I couldn’t stop my body’s reaction to him any more than I could stop breathing.

“Good,” Laish murmured. Leaning down, he brushed a gentle, chaste kiss to my lips. It was so soft, I barely felt it but the warm press of his mouth to mine reminded me of the other, much more passionate kiss we had shared before when I had “paid” him for the demon’s breath I’d needed for a spell. Part of me wanted to kiss him back—and part of me was scared to death. I held perfectly still, frozen with indecision until he straightened up. “Trust me,” he murmured. “And put on the dress.”

“All right,” I whispered back. “But at least turn around so I can have some privacy.”

“Privacy will soon become a thing of the past but I will be happy to cede you one last moment to yourself.” Turning, he presented his broad back to me. “Go on, get dressed. And hurry, there will be a changing of the guards soon at the Great Barrier. I would like to take advantage of it to slip in unnoticed.”

“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” I muttered to myself. But all the same, I went ahead, shedding my jeans and t-shirt (and bra, which I hated to lose) and shimmying into the thin red dress instead.

It occurred to me, as I changed, that once we reached Hell, it had taken Laish exactly ten minutes to get me out of my clothes. The thought made me irritated with myself and I was even more annoyed when I remembered the way his soft kiss had made me practically melt. What was wrong with me, anyway? I was a strong, independent witch. I should be immune to his mind games.

But apparently I wasn’t because here I was, on Hell’s front doorstep, wearing nothing but my lacy black bikini panties and a thin red night-gown looking dress which showed plenty of cleavage and outlined both my nipples clearly. It was also a lot tighter around the hips and behind than I liked—not that I was surprised—Laish had clearly meant for it to fit me like a glove. At least my chosen footwear—the little black ballet flats—didn’t look too bad with it.

“Are you ready?” Laish rumbled.

“As I’ll ever be,” I grumbled. “You can turn around now.”

He turned and looked at me, those ruby red eyes traveling over what felt like every inch of my body.

“Well?” I shifted uncomfortably. “Are we going to go?”

“In a moment. I want to admire the view.” He stepped toward me. “I knew that color would look lovely against your skin. I love the tone, you know—so warm and creamy. Like café au lait.”

I lifted my chin, trying not to let his nearness affect me. “Thank you but can we go now?”

“Not yet.” He let one finger drift over the thin silk strap on my right shoulder. I stiffened, wondering if he would demand part of his “payment” now. But he didn’t touch my breast—only my shoulder. “The contrast is perfect,” he murmured.

“Well, red has always been my color.” I had to work to keep my voice even.

“I’m not speaking of the red dress against your skin—I’m talking about my skin contrasted with yours.” He nodded at his big, well-shaped hand, which looked pale against my own warm brown tones. “Light and dark,” he murmured. “Beautiful.”

“I guess so.” I made myself step away from his light touch though part of me really wanted to step into it. “Now are we going or not? I thought there was a changing of the guard or something like that.”

He sighed. “Will you always be this standoffish with me, mon ange?” He shook his head before I could answer “Never mind. Yes, this is the time to enter, hopefully unnoticed. Follow me and say nothing.”

“Fine. I’ll walk five paces behind you and I won’t say a word when you tell people I’m your freaking concubine,” I muttered, feeling a surge of irritation which almost eclipsed the other, turbulent emotions he brought out in me.

Laish frowned. “Kindly remember that this ruse is for your safety and try not to sulk about it, Gwendolyn. We must be as unnoticed as possible in this journey. Do not forget that the Hellspawn is also on your trail, seeking to devour your soul.”

My throat went suddenly dry. “But…you banished it back to the pit.”

“I did but as I said before, it will find its way back to you by any means necessary. Let’s not give it any help. Now, are you ready?”

“More than ready,” I assured him, but my heart was suddenly beating double time. Was I really going to do this? Was I really going to walk straight into Hell?

“Good. Then let’s go,” Laish said.

Apparently I was.

Chapter Nine

Gwendolyn

Laish led me toward the massive gates, which towered higher than any skyscraper on Earth. The wrought iron panels had strange, disturbing shapes worked into them —monstrous beasts and demonic faces which seemed to shift and change if I stared at them too closely. I tried not to but I still saw them out of the corner of my eye as we approached.

Though we were keeping in the shadows, I couldn’t help feeling nervous as we got closer. In my other trips to the Shadow Lands, I had been careful to stay far from the gates. I didn’t even like approaching the wall which encircled Hell but at least it wasn’t crawling with demons.

Speaking of demons, I felt my breath catch in my throat as I saw who—or what—was guarding those gates.

Two gigantic demons, each of them at least ten feet tall, stood watch beside the enormous gates. What struck me most about them—aside from their size—was that they looked nothing like Laish. In fact, from the twisting black horns protruding from their foreheads right down to their cloven hooves, their appearance was what every child is taught the Devil looks like. They even had red skin and were armed with giant pitchforks. It would have been almost cartoonish if it wasn’t so grotesque. As we watched, one of the demons opened his mouth to yawn, revealing a foot long, forked tongue, just like a snake’s.

“Ugh,” I muttered, involuntarily. “Why do they look like that?”

“They look like what you imagine them to look like, Gwendolyn,” Laish murmured back. “This is what you were taught to expect and so this is what you see. Believe me, their true appearance is much more terrible—it would drive your human mind mad.”

“But you don’t look anything like that,” I protested. “Uh, do you?”

He threw an amused glance over his shoulder. “Do you want to find out? Should I show you my true form?”

“No, don’t!” I exclaimed, before I thought about it.

Laish’s face went blank but he only nodded. “A pity. I thought you had more courage than that.”

“I just…I like the way you look now,” I said. In fact, I liked it a lot more than I wanted to. But was the Laish I liked just a mirage? Maybe I should let him show me his true form. It might rid me of the ridiculous feelings I kept having every time he touched me.

I thought about it…and rejected the idea. If I was walking about Hell with a ten foot tall, cloven-hoofed, forked-tongued monster, I really didn’t want to know it. Ignorance is bliss and all that…

“We’re here,” he murmured, breaking my train of thought. “When the guards begin to move, the gates will open. You and I will slip through and be on our way.”

“All right.” I didn’t much like the idea of “slipping through” a huge gate guarded by enormous, muscular, beast-like demons, but there didn’t seem to be much choice.

As if on cue, the vast iron gates swung silently open, emitting a gust of hot, dry air that smelled faintly of burning. They were so colossal I thought the mechanism that moved them must be the size of a small city. Or maybe they were opened and closed by some kind of dark magic. Whatever the case, the moment the gates swung wide, the two huge guards lumbered inside, carrying their pitchforks—which looked about the size of telephone poles—casually over their shoulders.

“It’s time,” Laish murmured to me. Up until then, we had been keeping to the wall and the long shadows it cast. Now he took me firmly by the hand and pulled me right through the middle of the gates.

“Uh, shouldn’t we keep to the side?” I asked, out of the corner of my mouth.

“More chance of running into one of the guards,” he said. “Go ahead of me, Gwendolyn—once you are past the threshold, they cannot turn you away and danger is more likely to come from behind.”

“Fine,” I muttered. I felt incredibly vulnerable stepping out ahead of him but I did it anyway. The space we went through felt as wide as a football field—though it was probably only the size of a tennis court. I kept my head down, looking at my feet. Ho-hum, nothing to see here. Just a subservient concubine just out for a stroll with her demonic master…

And that was when I heard the growling.

Abandoning my subservient routine, I looked up…and up…and up, into the eyes of a huge, bristling dog. At least, I thought it was a dog. Except no kind of dog I ever heard of grows as large as a horse. Also, I’m pretty sure the American Kennel Club doesn’t recognize any breed that has three heads—which this dog had. So when I say I looked into its eyes, I mean I looked into all six of them. And every single one was filled with a murderous desire to rip me apart like a piece of beef jerky.

I’ve never been a dog person—witches and cats go together like peanut butter and jelly—which is why Grams and I always had at least one feline stalking around the house. But even if I had been a canine enthusiast, I don’t think I could have gotten too enthusiastic about the beast which was blocking my way and growling at me with all three heads. In fact, I was about as far from enthusiastic as I could get—I was terrified.

“Laish,” I whispered, my voice suddenly dry. “What’s going on? I thought you said there was more danger from behind?”

“What’s going on is that some fool has gone and left Cerberus off his leash again.” He sounded more irritated than anything else. “Don’t worry, I won’t let him hurt you,” he added.

“Um, thanks…” I still couldn’t raise my voice above a whisper and I didn’t dare take my eyes off the huge beast. All three heads were still growling and snarling and two of them were drooling on the ground. I couldn’t help noticing that where the ropey strings of saliva touched the broad black paving stones, little wisps of steam arose. Either the dog-thing’s spit was supernaturally hot or some kind of acid. Neither option seemed very comforting.

Suddenly the dog lunged at me, all three heads barking in a deafening cacophony.

“Oh, God!” I jumped back instinctively, my heart pounding, though I knew there was no way I could outrun the huge thing.

“No!” Laish was suddenly between us. “No, Cerberus!” he repeated, slapping aside one of the snarling, barking heads as casually as anyone else might swat a fly. Then he added a word in that harsh language that hurt my ears.

At once the three headed dog flopped down on the ground and began to whimper as though it was in pain. It looked up at Laish with big, sad puppy dog eyes which might have melted my heart if there hadn’t been six of them.

“That’s right,” Laish frowned at the creature. “You must never threaten her again. Gwendolyn is mine and I will not see her harmed.”

The dog seemed to understand this. It rolled over on its back as though begging to have its massive tummy scratched. I was almost tempted to do it—the change in the big dog was from night to day. He looked so sad and contrite and really, almost loveable, I could scarcely believe he would hurt me now.

As I watched him, the huge thing whined again and made a little movement toward me with one of its massive, dinner-plate sized paws. Come play with me, I could almost hear it saying. Sorry I scared you—just doing my job and guarding the gates.

“Hey, boy,” I murmured. “Are you really just a big softie?”

The dog made another appealing little whine at the back of one of its throats, as though agreeing with me. Well, maybe he was just being protective of his territory. As I said before, I’m not much of a dog person but I had dated a guy for a little while who had a Rottweiler/Pitt bull mix. The thing was as ugly and scary as any animal you’d ever want to meet but once it had recognized that I wasn’t a threat, it had been a very sweet companion. In fact, I’d been sorrier to leave the dog than the guy, when we finally broke up.

“I think somebody wants his tummy scratched,” I said.

The dog barked playfully and almost seemed to be grinning at me, its long pink tongues hanging out of all three mouths as it panted eagerly.

I was stepping forward with one hand raised when Laish took me by the wrist and pulled me back.

“I wouldn’t,” he said blandly. “Cerberus is not to be trusted.”

“He’s just protecting his territory,” I protested. “Now that you calmed him down it should be fine.”

“He would like you to think so—until you got within biting distance.” Laish gestured at the massive dog. “Then he would take your head from your shoulders. He has been trained to smell human flesh—that’s all he eats.”

“Seriously?” I suddenly felt sick.

“Oh, yes. He is actually most helpful—he keeps souls from escaping from Hell and for the most part, he keeps humans out. By any means possible. But even if he didn’t bite your head from your body, there are other things to consider.”

“What other things? Besides his three heads and his taste for human flesh?” I demanded.

“His tail.” Laish nodded at the back end of the huge animal. “Watch his tail, Gwendolyn. It will show you his true intentions.”

As he spoke, I saw a large black cobra rise up. It hovered, hissing over the shaggy belly I had just been going to scratch and I realized it was connected to Cerberus. It was actually part of him.

“Ugh.” I took another step back. “Hell is worse than I imagined, so far.”

“This, mon ange, is but the tip of the iceberg. There is much more to come,” Laish said grimly. “But for now, let us—”

Before he could finish a massive demon with dark maroon skin and twisted horns rode up on a snorting black horse even bigger than Cerberus.

“Who dares to pass through the Great Barrier unannounced?” he thundered. He was huge—easily two feet taller than the massive demons we’d seen guarding the gates earlier. “Cerberus!” he growled, swinging off the horse and stalking over to where the three headed dog was still sprawled in front of Laish. “Is this female a mortal being with an intact soul? Why did you allow her to pass through the gate? Why have you not ripped her limb from limb and consumed her?”

The dog whined again and barked sharply at the massive demon. I bit my lip and crossed my arms over my chest protectively. Great, we’d been busted trying to sneak into Hell. What was going to happen now? Laish was just a minor demon. Would he get in trouble? Would he—?

“Cerberus did not attack the female because she is mine and I forbid him to harm her,” Laish said, stepping forward.

The demon, who towered over both of us, squinted down at him.

“Do I know you? Who are you that the hound of Hell obeys your orders?”

“You know me, Yerx.” Suddenly, Laish seemed to grow bigger and more menacing, just as he had at Grams’ house. “You know me very well,” he rumbled, his voice deepening to a threatening thunder.

I looked at him in awe—was this the other form he had talked about—his true demonic form? But his face hadn’t changed any—in fact, he didn’t seem that different except for his size. Maybe this was a partial transformation? What would happen if he changed completely? What would he look like? And did I really want to know?

Apparently the partial change was good enough for the huge demon.

“My Lord Laish!” It threw its massive frame on the black paving stones at our feet. It was so big I swore I could feel the ground shake when it hit the earth. “F-forgive me,” it stammered, pressing its huge, ugly face to Laish’s shoe. “I did not recognize you in your mortal form. I meant no disrespect—please don’t have me skinned alive or banish me to the lake of fire! Not all of us can survive it as you did!”

Laish stepped back and seemed to shrink down to his normal size again.

“That is quite all right, Yerx,” he said mildly. “An understandable mistake. I will not punish you—this time.”

“Oh, thank you, Master! Thank you!” The demon babbled, still groveling at his feet.

“That’s quite enough, Yerx.” Laish’s expression was one of distaste. “As I said, I won’t punish you this time—so long as you keep my secret. I am taking my concubine to my home in Hades and I don’t wish anyone to know it. Hence my attempt to bring her through the gates clandestinely.” He frowned. “Unfortunately, some fool let Cerberus off his leash and so my plan was spoiled.”

“I’ll have whoever did it whipped until they bleed,” the demon promised. “And your secret is safe with me, I swear it, my Lord.”

“Very well.” Laish sighed. “As long as you are here, Yerx, I might as well make use of you. Or rather, make use of your horse. It’s a long walk to the river and I confess I wasn’t looking forward to it.”

“Of course. Of course!” The demon hopped up at once and grabbed the snorting black horse’s reins. “Take him as far as you like, my Lord. He will return on his own when you release him.”

“All right.” Laish stepped forward and took the reins. He turned to me. “Come, Gwendolyn. Let us go.”

“On that thing?” I shook my head as a familiar fear from childhood rose up. “Uh-uh, I don’t think so.”

He frowned at me. “You’re fearless, Gwendolyn—some might even say reckless. A moment ago before I stopped you, you were going to pet the hound of Hell. Now you fear to mount a horse?”

“I don’t love dogs to death but a dog—even a three headed one—is still better than a horse,” I said defensively, taking another step back.

“Come, mon ange,” Laish said. “Don’t be ridiculous. This steed is perfectly safe—observe.” Nonchalantly, he put his foot in the stirrup and swung aboard the huge black horse which snorted and stamped but did, at least, stay still for the operation. The thing was so big it looked more like he was mounted on an elephant than a horse—or maybe that was just my fear talking.

“I…I don’t want to.” Still, I hung back. I had bad memories of my last time on horseback—very bad memories that involved a hospital visit, a broken collar bone, and my Grams crying her eyes out with worry. I wanted no part of that again.

“Gwendolyn…” Laish’s deep voice was soft and patient. “I swear to you I will not allow the horse to hurt or throw you. I will hold you myself the entire time we are astride it. Come…trust me. Remember you said that you would try?”

I had said that, hadn’t I? But why did he have to test me so soon?

“Come, Gwendolyn,” he said again. “Every moment you delay is another moment the Hellspawn has to track us.”

The thought of the headless thing with its long yellow teeth and slimy tongue-tentacle finally got me moving. Trying to stay right in the middle of the huge horse and away from its front and back hooves, I carefully approached.

“That’s good, mon ange.” Laish leaned down and held out a hand encouragingly. “Take my arm and step up on my foot. I will swing you up in front of me.”

It was a long reach to get my foot up to his, which was stuck firmly in the black leather stirrup. I felt ridiculous even trying because the red silk dress was riding up and I felt sure that the massive demon behind me was staring at my ass. Finally, though, I managed to get my foot on top of Laish’s and grasp him by the forearm.

“Up we go,” he said and suited actions to words by heaving me lightly up the side of the huge horse. Before I knew it, I was sitting in front of him in the big black saddle.

There was nothing else to hold on to so I grabbed a handful of the horse’s mane, hoping it wouldn’t mind. It snorted and stamped its foot but showed no inclination to buck us off, which was good. Still, I didn’t like being so high up and feeling so completely out of control.

Laish seemed to have no such worries. He kicked the massive horse’s sides and made a clicking sound.

“Goodbye, Yerx,” he called as the horse began to move obediently forward. “I will send back your steed when I reach the river. Remember that no one is to know about this. If I find you have told anyone, I will have your flesh carved from your bones and tossed, chunk by bloody chunk, into the Lake of Fire.”

Looking back, I thought the immense demon looked pale.

“Yes, my Lord Laish,” he muttered, bowing so low that his twisting spiral horns scraped the ground. “I understand.”

“Very good.” Laish turned his attention forward and urged the horse to go a little faster.

“Take it easy with this thing!” I gripped his forearms, which were on either side of me. “Don’t make it go too fast, okay?”

“What is the point of riding a Demon-steed if you don’t make use of its tremendous speed?” Laish sounded amused but I noticed he didn’t urge the horse any faster—for which I was relieved.

“So, ‘Lord Laish’ huh?” I asked, trying to take my mind off my horsy predicament. “What’s that all about? I thought you were a minor demon?”

“It’s nothing. Yerx is an old friend—he served in one of the legions I commanded once during the Blood Wars.”

“Okay, first…” I twisted around carefully, so I could see his face. “Friends don’t threaten to have friends carved into ‘bloody chunks’ was how I believe you put it.”

Laish opened his mouth but I went on before he could speak.

“And second, minor demons don’t command whole legions. Do they? I mean, who are you, anyway?”

Laish shrugged. “No one of consequence. Don’t worry about it, Gwendolyn.”

“I do worry about it, Laish,” I snapped. “I called for a minor demon. In fact, I specifically tried to summon the weakest, least dominant demon I could find the first time I did that spell. And I got you.”

“You did indeed. And now you are stuck with me.” He gave me a charming grin. “Turn around, Gwendolyn. This is likely to be the most idyllic portion of our trip. Let’s not waste it bickering.”

“As if any part of a ride through Hell could be ‘idyllic,’” I muttered, turning around reluctantly. “This isn’t over with, Laish. I’m going to find out who—and what—you really are, eventually.”

“Perhaps,” he rumbled. “In the meantime, let us just enjoy each other’s company—shall we?”

I still felt irritated but the slight swaying motion of the horse was strangely soothing. I didn’t know much about horses—having avoided them completely ever since early childhood—but this one seemed to have an exceptionally smooth gait. The dark ground flowed beneath us like water. As for the landscape—there was nothing to see. The entire area seemed to be one flat plane shrouded in mist. From time to time I thought I heard voices but they were always far off and I couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was neither too hot nor too cold—in fact, the whole place was about as neutral and gray as anything I could imagine.

So much for fiery pits and vats of lava and brimstone with devils dancing around them—as far as I was concerned, Hell seemed positively mild. There was nothing to do but lean back and enjoy the ride—if I could enjoy balancing on the back of such a huge, frightening creature, that was. Still, Laish’s arms on either side of me and his broad, warm chest behind me made me feel secure, despite the great distance to the ground. His warm cinnamon and spice scent was soothing too—maybe too soothing. It was lulling me off guard, making me want to snuggle back against him and lose myself in the warmth of his big body.

Irritated with myself for my weakness, I made a point of sitting up, trying not to let my back touch his chest. But that put my crotch into much more direct contact with the hard leather saddle. My legs were already spread wide and when I leaned forward, the rocking motion of the horse and the saddle rubbing right between my legs was positively pornographic. I squirmed uncomfortably, wishing it didn’t feel so good.

I had a real dilemma. If I leaned back, I was too close to Laish but if I sat up straight, I was being stimulated in a way I definitely didn’t want when I was in such close proximity to the infuriating demon.

“Gwendolyn? Are you all right?” he murmured after a few minutes of me squirming all over the place.

“Fine, just fine,” I muttered, making an effort to sit still. “Tell me about Hell if you won’t tell me about yourself,” I said, trying to take my mind off my problem. “What is this area we’re riding through now—Purgatory?”

“There is no such thing,” Laish said. “That is yet another detail Dante got wrong. In fact, this is the first circle of Hell—Avernus. Also known as the Plane of Irresolution. It is reserved for those souls who wandered aimlessly through life, never accomplishing their goals or helping others to accomplish theirs.”

“That seems mild enough,” I remarked.

“It is—compared with the rest of Hell. Though wandering, eternally lost and miserable through the mists is not pleasant,” he said. “The whole region is ruled by Azmodan the Absent, so named because he is almost never here. He is one of the seven.”

“One of the seven what?” I asked, intrigued despite myself.

“The seven Satanic Archdukes or Great Demons. The Princes of Night and Shadows who rule over the seven circles of Hell respectively. They are in constant conflict with each other—each seeking to better his position and raise his status by infiltrating the territory of the others.”

“Sounds…fun,” I muttered.

“It is anything but,” Laish said seriously. “The endless disputes and battles for domination—the Blood Wars as they are called—have been raging since before your world began.” He sighed. “And they will probably still be raging long after it ends.”

“The Blood Wars? And you commanded a legion in them? Why did you stop?” I asked.

He sighed again. “You have no idea how tired of warfare and combat you can become. After several millennia, I simply decided it wasn’t worth it anymore. I retired to my little estate in Hades—which looks much like the Plane of Irresolution, by the way, although not nearly as foggy—and kept to myself. I like it better that way. That is where I was when I heard your call and came to help you the very first time.”

“So, what—you came to help me out of boredom?” I asked. “Because you were tired of sitting around the house?”

“Initially,” he admitted. “But then something kept me coming back. You kept me coming back, Gwendolyn.”

“What—me?” I half turned to face him again. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Laish. I’m just an ordinary human girl.”

“Mon ange, you are anything but ordinary,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. “As to the reason I keep coming back to you and cannot leave you alone…” He shook his head. “I wish I knew the answer to that myself.”

The burning ruby eyes looking into mine were suddenly too much. I turned around again and sat up a little more, making sure to keep distance between us despite the uncomfortably pleasurable rubbing between my legs.

“Tell me more,” I said. “We’re going to cross over the river Styx—is that right? And then where to?”

“The City of Baator ruled by Tiamat the Exacting, another of the seven. But we must pay the price to pass from the first circle to the second circle before we can cross the river.”

“Pay the price?” I didn’t like the sound of that at all. I turned my head to look at him again. “What price? Like some kind of a toll?”

“You will see,” he said neutrally. “In the meantime, simply enjoy the ride. You can lean back against me if you like—I won’t bite, you know.”

“I know.” I could feel my cheeks getting hot and I turned around again hurriedly. “But I’m fine. Just fine.”

“If you’re worried that I will take liberties I will not—not yet, anyway. It isn’t time for that,” he murmured.

When will it be time? I wanted to ask but I kept my mouth firmly shut. I felt like I had been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since he’d taken my hand and transported us both to the Shadow Lands. When exactly would he think was the right time to exact his ‘payment’ and what would he want to do?

Better not to think about it.

Instead, I concentrated on the swirling mists around us and the dull thunk-thunk-thunk of the huge horse’s hooves as they struck the ground. But behind me I could feel Laish waiting, biding his time. Getting ready to do whatever he wanted to me.

The thing that worried me most wasn’t that I didn’t want him to touch me, however. No, what worried me was that I might not want him to stop.

Chapter Ten

Laish

We got to the river much more quickly than I had originally calculated, when I thought we would be journeying by foot. The Demon-steed was placid enough under my touch—it dared not be anything else—and I was almost tempted to keep it for the rest of our quest. I did not want it simply for the convenience but also because it forced my little witch into a closer proximity to me than I guessed she would normally come on her own.

Though she tried to sit stiff and straight, keeping her distance from me, she couldn’t manage it entirely. The horse’s swaying gait ensured that every so often she would be jostled back against me, her smooth, bare shoulders pressing against my chest.

Each time this happened, Gwendolyn rested against me a little bit longer before resuming her rigid posture. The feel of her soft, curving body against mine and her warm, feminine scent in my nose was intoxicating. I was sorely tempted to sweep her hair to one side and kiss the side of her neck. Or perhaps, to let one of my hands drift from the reins and slide up to caress her thigh.

I kept my impulses strictly in check, however. Gwendolyn still feared my touch and I didn’t want to feed that fear—though she would have to get over it soon enough.

In fact, the time was coming even sooner than I had calculated. The distance that would have taken at least a day on foot, was covered in a matter of hours on Yerx’s steed. Before I knew it, we were coming to the banks of the river Styx, its pitch black waters flowing sluggishly as tar.

“Whoa,” I said softly, pulling the horse up short as we came to the banks. Though I still entertained thoughts of keeping him, I was aware that it would be difficult to bring him through the terrain of several of the seven levels. Also, a beast his size was not exactly inconspicuous. Reluctantly, I decided that I should send him back.

I dismounted first and then held up my arms for Gwendolyn. I saw the little war that went on in her face as she looked at my outstretched arms. Part of her wanted to refuse my help as well as my touch but she was still frightened of being on the unfamiliar animal. I wondered what had happened to her to make her so afraid of horses. Just another mystery to add to my little witch’s past. I swore to myself I would solve all these riddles in time—then maybe I would be free of her spell over me, whatever it was.

“Come, Gwendolyn,” I said in a low, commanding voice. “Unless you’d rather dismount yourself.”

A stubborn look came into those bewitching green eyes.

“I think I can manage.” Lifting her chin, she began to clamber off the steed’s broad back.

I frowned. I admired her stubbornness and independence, but those two qualities might get her killed when we entered enemy territories. Perhaps a small lesson in obedience was in order.

I was still standing by the Demon-steed’s head and a quick tug of the reins caused it to stamp and snort, shifting its considerable weight to one side.

Gwendolyn gave a little shriek and tumbled off—right into my waiting arms.

“Careful, mon ange,” I murmured, pulling her close to my chest. I savored the feel of her lush body pressed against mine as I held her. Gods, she was the most tempting little creature! I wanted her badly—much more than I should. I knew many of my kind would have simply taken what they wanted by force but I did not relish such encounters. I preferred to bring her to me slowly, step-by-step—although if the way she was struggling against me was any indication, she had other plans.

“Let me go!” she demanded. “You did that on purpose.”

“Perhaps.” I set her on her feet at last and she straightened the red silk dress I had chosen for her. It clung to her beautifully, outlining her full breasts and the taut little points of her nipples as well as the rounded curves of her ass and hips. Truly, she was lovely. Especially when her eyes bright with irritation and her cheeks were flushed with anger as they were now.

“You need to stop. I’m not putting up with your foolishness the whole way through Hell.” Gwendolyn straightened her dress with quick, angry motions. Then she crossed her arms over her breasts, hiding the tantalizing sight of her tight nipples pressing against the thin red silk. I wondered idly if she didn’t like the feel of my eyes on her—or if it was her own reaction to our closeness that bothered her more.

The horse, which had been standing quietly on the banks of the Styx, chose that moment to lean over and investigate her hair with its nose.

“Oh my God!” Gwendolyn jumped toward me with a little gasp and wound up pressed against my chest. I put my arms around her obligingly and tried to smother a grin.

“He’s simply scenting you, mon ange,” I told her. “I think he likes you.”

“Well, I don’t like him.” Gwendolyn shivered and stepped away from me.

The horse nudged her again, snorting gently as it pressed its nose to the back of her neck.

“Cut that out!” she exclaimed, turning around.

“I’m telling you, he likes you,” I told her. “Here, give him this.”

Reaching into the air, I pulled out an apple—a rather large one as the steed was built to carry a twelve foot demon.

Reluctantly, Gwendolyn took the apple from my hand. “Really? You want me to feed him?”

“Really.” I nodded at the horse. “Go on—give it to him.”

I watched with interest as the horse lipped the apple from her palm and crunched it messily. Such animals were usually fed on living flesh—which I did not tell Gwendolyn—but this one seemed to have retained enough of its mortal ancestry to enjoy other things as well.

Gwendolyn asked for another apple, which I obligingly produced. As the horse ate it from her palm, she tentatively reached up and stroked its glossy black neck. She had to stand on her tiptoes since the animal was so massive but she did it without fear.

“Good boy,” I heard her murmur. “Are you a good boy?”

The horse snorted and nudged her again with its huge head—clearly Yerx’s massive Demon-steed was taken with my little witch.

I must confess I was impressed—not just by Gwendolyn’s mastery of her fear but by the fact that the horse came so quickly under her sway. It was the second animal from my realm which had shown itself partial to her. Cerberus, of course, was not to be trusted but he had surprised me in his attentions to the little witch. Could it be she had some power over the denizens of Hell? Or were they simply unable to resist her innate goodness, much as I was unable to resist myself?

Gwendolyn fed the horse several more apples and then I decided it was time to send him on his way back.

“Enough,” I told her, taking her by the arm to lead her a little ways away. “I must send him back to the Great Barrier now. Back to where he belongs.”

“What, so he can carry that nasty big demon around all day?” she protested. “No offense to your ‘friend’ but he must weigh a ton—literally! That can’t be good for the poor horse’s back!”

“I thought you didn’t like him,” I said dryly, eyeing the horse which was sidling up to us, trying to get close to Gwendolyn again.

“Well maybe I changed my mind,” she said defensively. “He’s not so bad once you get to know him and it would be a lot easier riding him than trudging through Hell on foot.”

“He’s a very noticeable steed,” I objected. “Riding him would draw unwanted attention and make it much easier for the Hellspawn to track us.”

“But that thing is already on my trail,” she objected. “And if we’re mounted on the horse when it finds us, I’m sure he could outrun it. We’ll actually have a better chance of getting away and staying safe if we keep him.”

I saw that she really wanted to keep the horse. Despite myself, I was charmed all over again by her courage. She loved and befriended even the most fearsome creatures—it made me hope, deep inside, that maybe she might find love in her heart for a monster like me as well. I could deny her nothing—still, I pretended to deliberate.

“Well…” I murmured, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Please, Laish?” She put a hand on my arm which I liked a lot—she hardly ever touched me voluntarily and I badly wanted her to.

“All right,” I said at last, taking her hand in mine. “If it means so much to you.”

“It does.” She squeezed my hand. “I don’t know why, but it does. Thank you, Laish.”

“You are welcome,” I said simply. “And now, if you can tear your attention away from your new pet long enough, I believe the ferry has arrived.”

Gwendolyn pulled her hand from mine and turned quickly, scanning the sluggish waters of the Styx.

Sure enough, a long, flat barge appeared out of the mist, coming slowly toward us. It was captained by a tall figure shrouded in tattered black rags. His face was hidden by a black hood but I had traversed the Styx often enough to know what he looked like beneath that ragged veil.

“Charon,” Gwendolyn breathed as the barge came to a halt, crunching against the pebbles of the shoreline. “So he is real.”

“Indeed,” I murmured. “Are you ready to cross, Gwendolyn? Few of the living ever have.”

“I’m ready,” she assured me. “I’ve got this.”

She dug around in her bag for a moment and then seemed to find what she was looking for. Stepping forward, she tried to hand something to the skeletal ferryman.

Charon simply shook his head.

“What?” Gwendolyn frowned. “What’s wrong? Why won’t he take it?” She held out her hand and I saw an antique silver piece in her small palm.

“You are not dead,” I explained. “Only the souls of the dead must pay for passage across the Styx. A living human may pass for free—as long as you are accompanied by a denizen of the realm.”

“Oh, all right.” She shrugged. “Should we bring the horse aboard first—what’s his name, anyway? Did your, uh, friend say?”

“This is the same steed Yerx rode through the campaigns we fought together,” I said. “As I recall, his name is Kurex.”

“Kurex, hmm? I like it.” Gwendolyn turned to the horse. “Here, boy. Here, Kurex.”

At the sound of his name the massive horse nodded his head and snorted. He trotted over to the little witch and nuzzled just behind her ear with his nose, blowing gently.

“Good boy.” Gwendolyn stroked the arching black neck again and I couldn’t help feeling jealous. Why was it so easy for her to trust anyone and anything but me?

“Give his reins to Charon,” I instructed her. “He will lead Kurex aboard the ferry.”

“And he’ll be okay?” She looked at me anxiously.

I nodded. “He will. He is used to traversing this river.”

“All right then, good.” Reaching up, she caught the black leather reins as though she’d been doing it for years and led the horse closer to the ferry. This time when she held out her hand, Charon reached for what she was handing him. I noticed that Gwendolyn was careful not to touch his skeletal fingers as she gave him the reins.

Kurex was loaded onto the flat barge-like ferry in short order and the only thing that remained was for Gwendolyn and myself to climb aboard. It seemed a simple thing and yet I knew it would be a problem. I considered warning my little witch of what was to come, but then I thought better of it. She would have to learn on her own or she would never believe me.

Gwendolyn was about to find out exactly what was required in order to pass from one circle of Hell to the next and I was certain it would not make her happy.

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

I know it sounds crazy considering my childhood trauma, but I was really getting fond of the elephant-sized horse. Maybe I just have a soft spot for animals but the way he nuzzled me with his nose and begged for more apples just melted me. I was a little worried he might nip my fingers with that huge mouth of his but he had been extremely careful, delicately lipping the huge apples Laish conjured for me out of my palm and crunching them with messy delight. And for my part, I found I really enjoyed feeding him.

I had never thought I would like a horse after my broken-collarbone incident but it occurred to me that maybe I had been too quick to judge. I was genuinely glad when Laish said we could take the big guy with us and not just because riding beat hoofing it—no pun intended—through Hell by a long shot. I still had the problem of the way the saddle rubbed me in the wrong (right?) way, but I would learn to deal with that, I promised myself. In the meantime, I was just glad we got to keep Kurex a little longer.

Once Charon (who was even creepier than I had ever imagined) had loaded him onto the flat, black ferry, the big horse stood quietly, watching me as though he was waiting for me to come aboard too.

“It’s okay, boy,” I told him. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

I really didn’t like the idea of getting on board that ferry—not just because I was pretty sure the only thing under those tattered black rags of Charon’s was an animated skeleton, either. I was also weirded out by the idea that the only people who crossed these black, tarry waters were already dead. Also, I’m not the best swimmer in the world and I didn’t like to think what might be in that black goo waiting to get me if I fell in.

Still, there was no other way to get to the second circle of Hell and time was wasting. Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, meaning to place my foot on the ferry.

But I couldn’t.

Frowning, I tried again but with the same result. There was something in the way—some invisible barrier that I could feel but couldn’t get past.

I tried again, this time leaning forward with my upper body. Again, the invisible wall met me and kept me from stepping foot on the boat. I felt it in every direction, reaching up with my hands and pressing my palms to its smooth, invisible sides. It occurred to me that I must look like a mime—and not a very good one, either.

At last, I gave up on trying to find the edges of the wall and turned to Laish who was watching me quietly with absolutely no surprise on his chiseled features.

“What’s going on?” I demanded. “I thought you said I could ride for free since I’m not dead. Why can’t I get on board?”

“I never said you could cross for free, mon ange,” he rumbled. “Styx is the barrier between the first and second circle of Hell and you may not pass through to a new circle without first paying the toll.”

“What toll?” I shook my head. “You said something about that before but you never explained. I tried to give him the coin but he wouldn’t take it.”

“It is not in money that you must pay.” Laish was still looking at me intently. “But in deeds. You must pay the Sin Tax to cross from one circle of Hell into the next.”

“Sin Tax? What are you talking about?” I put a hand on my hip, all out of patience. “Look, Laish, just tell me what I have to do and I’ll do it. Come on—help me out, here!”

“I will be more than pleased to help you out—though I do not think you will like it,” he said quietly. “You see, Gwendolyn, in order to pass on to another circle, you must commit a sin. A small one at this juncture, as we are still in the upper levels of Hell. But as we pass through each concentric circle, your crime must be greater and greater in order to satisfy the tax. It is the only way that you, as a living human, may pass through.”

“But…what kind of a sin?” I asked, though I was afraid I already knew.

“One of lust, I believe will do at this point.” Laish fixed me with those ruby eyes and beckoned to me. “Come to me, Gwendolyn. I can help you pay the tax.”

At last I understood. This was what he had meant when he said I would have to let him touch me in order to get through Hell. I felt a flush of warmth run through me, though if it was lust or anger I couldn’t tell—maybe it was a mixture of both.

“You…I…” I had no words. What could I say? “What…what am I supposed to do?” I finally got out.

“Just come to me,” he murmured. “I will be gentle, I swear.”

Rather than reassuring me, his words scared the Hell out of me—no pun intended. “What are you planning to do—have sex right here on the river bank?” I demanded, holding my ground. “Because I’m not up for that—not even to get across the river.”

Laish sighed. “I wish you did not fear my touch so very much. No, mon ange, I will not penetrate you now. As I said, only a little sin is necessary to satisfy at this juncture. If you let me simply touch you, I think we can pay the tax very well.”

“Touch me how?” I asked, still reluctant to go to him. “What are you going to do? I need to know.”

“Simply caress you.” His eyes were heavy-lidded with lust and his voice was soft and deep. “Come, Gwendolyn—don’t fear me. I will never hurt you, I swear it.”

“And if I let you do this—if I let you touch me—we’ll be able to get on the ferry and go across?” I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest.

He nodded. “Exactly so. Come.”

At last I came to him and stood in front of him. I couldn’t meet his eyes though—instead, I stared down at my little black shoes.

“All right, here I am. Go ahead,” I muttered.

Laish sighed. “May I remind you that you must be a willing participant in this? It is you who are paying the toll—not me.”

“But I don’t know how to do that.” My heart was pounding but I made myself look up at him anyway. “I don’t know how to…to make myself willing.”

“I can help you,” Laish pulled me into his arms and nuzzled my neck, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin of my throat.

I couldn’t help the shiver that ran through me. Goddess help me, I knew it was wrong but I wanted him to do this. It was scary and dangerous and absolutely sinful but I just couldn’t deny it—his touch felt good.

I thought he would continue kissing me but then, to my surprise, Laish turned me gently in his arms so that my back was pressed to his front.

“It’s all right,” he murmured in my ear, running his big, warm hands up and down my shivering bare arms. “I won’t hurt you, Gwendolyn. I wish only to bring you pleasure.”

He was doing a pretty good job of it already, and he hadn’t even really touched any “sinful” areas yet. I bit my lip as his warm hands moved inward, caressing my belly and sliding up the thin silk dress to cup the under-curves of my breasts.

“You don’t know how much I wanted to do this as we were riding earlier,” Laish murmured in my ear. I had to bite back a moan as he cupped me more fully and rubbed over the hard bud of one nipple with his thumb.

“You…you did?” I asked, wishing my voice didn’t sound so breathless.

“Mmm-hmm.” His voice was a low growl of pleasure and I could feel something hot and hard poking against my lower back. Gently, he plucked at the other nipple, squeezing it between his thumb and finger. I gave a little cry as sparks of pain and pleasure shot through me, then bit my lip, trying to keep back the other sounds that wanted to come out.

“It’s all right, mon ange,” he murmured in my ear. “You can make noise if you need to. I like to hear it—like to know how I am affecting you.”

I wished desperately that I could say he wasn’t affecting me at all but Laish would have seen through my lie at once. It was obvious by the way my heart was pounding and my breathing was short and shallow that his hands on me made me react.

I didn’t know why I felt his touch so keenly. I had let other guys touch my breasts before—mostly back during my reckless, rebellious phase in high school—before I saw what happened to Keisha and decided I didn’t want to end up that way. Since every boy I ever fooled around with had to stop above the waist and couldn’t go any further, it never ended happily. But I had to admit, it had felt damn good while it lasted.

But no one had ever touched me the way Laish was touching me now. His hands on my body were gentle but incredibly possessive. He stroked over my flesh as though he owned me and intended to do exactly what he wanted with me—which was apparently to make me moan. Because I couldn’t help doing exactly that.

“Does this feel good, mon ange?” he murmured, pulling down the thin top of the dress to reveal my naked breasts.

I wanted to protest that we were in public, that we weren’t alone, that I couldn’t let him do that to me. But somehow nothing came out of my mouth but another moan as he touched me.

“Laish,” I gasped as he cupped my bare breasts, twisting both nipples at the same time and then letting them go and stroking them with feather light caresses.

“Yes, mon ange?” he growled softly in my ear, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. “Tell me, my little witch—after so many years of enforced virginity—are you hungry to be touched? Hungry for the feel of hands on your body?”

That, of course, was the real problem. I was hungry to be touched—so hungry that I didn’t even care that it was a demon who was doing the touching.

“Stop,” I whispered. “Stop, we…we must have paid the tax by now.”

“Not quite.” Suddenly one of his hands left my breasts and stroked down, sliding over my trembling abdomen and coming to stop between my thighs.

“Laish!” I protested, squeezing my legs closed as tightly as I could. I was already over stimulated down there from riding on the hard saddle. I was afraid if I let him start touching me when I was already so hot, I wouldn’t want him to stop.

“Relax, Gwendolyn,” he murmured. “I wish only to feel the heat of your sweet little cunt in my palm. I promised not to penetrate you and that is a promise I intend to keep.”

I didn’t want to—I told myself I didn’t, anyway—but somehow I found myself spreading my legs for him.

“That’s good. Good girl,” he growled softly. His large, warm hand slid down my leg and before I knew it, his long fingers were trailing under my dress and up my bare thigh.

I trembled against him, expecting to feel those fingers slide into my lacy panties at any moment. Instead, he simply cupped me, as he had promised he would, holding my pussy gently but firmly in the palm of his hand.

“Why, Gwendolyn,” he murmured, tracing the slit of my pussy delicately through the thin lace. “Your panties are positively soaked.”

I gasped and jumped at his light, teasing touch. “Laish, please…” I pleaded, uncertain what I was begging for.

“Please, what, mon ange?” His deep voice was filled with lust. “Do you wish me to touch you more, to slide my fingers past this flimsy barrier and fill your soft little cunt while you grind against my palm?”

“I…you shouldn’t,” I whispered breathlessly. But I kept feeling closer and closer to something I’d never felt before—some hidden peak that had always been denied me, no matter how I searched for it. “I shouldn’t want you to.”

“But you do, don’t you?” he insisted. “You want me to fill you, to penetrate your hot little cunt and fuck you with my fingers until you come all over my hand. Come, Gwendolyn, admit it.”

“All right—fine,” I moaned, unable to help myself. “I…I admit it. I want you to.” The moment I said the words, I felt a ripple in the air around me—as though something vast and inimitable had somehow disappeared. The tiny part of my brain which was still capable of rational thought wondered what the hell it was. But most of me was still completely centered on Laish’s hand between my thighs. “Do it,” I begged him, shamelessly. “I want you to—I want you to touch me.” I was panting now, unable to catch my breath. “There,” I gasped. “I said it. Satisfied?”

“By no means, and neither are you, I know,” Laish murmured. Suddenly, he drew his hand away and stepped back from me. “But the Sin Tax is.”

“What?” I was so dizzy from desire I didn’t understand what he was saying at first. I turned to face him. “Why…why did you stop?”

Laish raised an eyebrow at me. “You mean why did I stop without giving you satisfaction? I do not like to leave you hanging, as it were, Gwendolyn, but I was under the impression that you didn’t want to do any more than was absolutely necessary to pay the toll.”

“And…we did? It’s paid?” Without his hands on me, I was beginning to get a little control back. It occurred to me that I was standing there with my breasts still completely bare and I had just begged him to touch me. Not just touch me—penetrate me. Blushing, I pulled up the top of the red silk dress and pushed down the bottom, trying to ignore how wet I still was between my legs.

“Yes, I believe it is.” Laish was still looking at me steadily. “At this early juncture it was enough for you to simply admit your lust aloud. Now we should be able to cross over the river to the second circle.”

“Great,” I muttered, smoothing down my dress and feeling like a fool. Not just any fool either—a stupid, horny fool. Ugh. “Perfect. Just perfect.”

“Gwendolyn…” Laish lifted my chin and made me look at him, though I was so embarrassed I never wanted to meet his eyes again. What must he think of me now? With just a few kisses and touches he had reduced me to a whimpering pile of hormones. “Gwendolyn,” he said again. “You should know that it was perfect—for me, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” I muttered, still having trouble meeting his eyes. “You didn’t, uh, get satisfaction either. Did you?”

“No, but that is not important,” he said softly. “What was perfect was the way you trusted me. The way you put yourself in my hands and allowed me to give you pleasure. You have no idea how long I have been waiting for you to do that.”

“Yeah? Well don’t get too used to it,” I snapped. “And anyway, I only did it because I had no choice. How else was I supposed to get to the next circle?”

“How else, indeed.” The warmth went out of Laish’s eyes and he dropped my chin abruptly and stepped back. “Come, then—let us board the ferry and move on.”

Abruptly, I felt sorry for my outburst. “Laish—” I began, but he appeared not to hear.

“Come.” He beckoned to me but made no more attempt to take my hand. “Charon is waiting for us and he will not tarry forever.”

“Fine.” I stepped aboard the ferry feeling miserable. What was wrong with me, first reacting so strongly to Laish’s touch and then snapping his head off like that? And what about the feeling I’d had when he was touching me? The sensation that I was finally going to reach that elusive peak that had been denied me all my life? If he’d gone on a little longer, would it finally have happened?

Stop it, I told myself uneasily. Stop thinking like that. You ought to be more concerned about how you reacted than how you felt. Not to mention—what are you going to have to do in order to pass into the next circle of Hell?

I had no idea but I was afraid I was going to find out.

Chapter Eleven

Laish

After we paid the Sin Tax, Gwendolyn had no further trouble in climbing aboard the infernal ferry. For my part, I decided to give her some room. I stood beside Charon while she gravitated to the far end where Kurex was standing patiently, waiting for the ride to be over.

I watched as she stood close to the big horse, stroking his neck and taking comfort from the gentle way he nudged her with his nose and nickered softly. She wouldn’t look at me at all, preferring instead to stare into the distance. If she was trying to make out the other shore, she was out of luck—the Styx is always shrouded in mist. The great city of Baator and its outlying areas would not be visible until we landed and traveled a little distance to the Iron Spike.

Though I tried to control my frustration, I couldn’t quell it completely. Why was she so stubborn, so unwilling to accept any gesture of affection from me? I wasn’t thinking about the way she had responded to my hands on her body—she had given herself freely then, gasping and trembling in my arms until I longed to do much more than simply run my hands over her lush flesh. I loved the deliciously wanton way my little witch gave in to her emotions, to the pleasure of my hands on her curves. That part of our encounter had been delightful.

It was afterwards, when I had bared a little piece of my heart (if a demonic creature like myself can be said to have a heart) which bothered me. Or rather—her reaction to me, bothered me. Why was she so quick to turn away? So defensive and unwilling to let me in, even a little? I understood that she feared to lose part of her powers but it seemed that there must be something else, some other reason she resisted feeling anything for me. Would I ever find out what that was?

As I mused, the flat bottom of the ferry at last ground to a halt against the pebbles of the far side of the river. Gwendolyn and I had made the passage safely—a passage few living mortals had made. Even fewer had come back, but I promised myself that Gwendolyn would be one of them. No matter what I had to do to keep her safe, I would protect her until the end of this journey we were taking together.

“Well, I guess we should go.” Gwendolyn looked at me uneasily, as though she was apprehensive that I might accuse her in some way or perhaps try to touch her again. On that score, she need not have worried. I was determined to leave her strictly alone until it was necessary to pay the Sin Tax again.

“Yes.” I reached for Kurex’s reins and led the huge steed onto dry land. He snorted and stamped once, as though pleased to be on solid footing again. Gwendolyn followed quietly, throwing one last uneasy glance over her shoulder at Charon. The ferryman waited silently until we were all ashore and then pushed off, gliding across the tarry waters again to meet his next customer.

“Well, that was…creepy.” Gwendolyn shivered.

“Mmm.” I nodded neutrally.

“Look,” she began. “About what I said to you—”

“You need not apologize or explain,” I said. “I understand that you’re wary of me—you don’t trust me or my intentions.”

“It’s not that exactly,” she objected. “It’s just…well…”

“What?” I turned to face her and saw that her creamy café au lait cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. “Why, mon ange, you’re blushing.” I reached up to stroke her cheek but she flinched away. “What is it?” I asked again.

“I just don’t understand why I can’t control myself better with you,” she burst out. “I mean when you touched me I just…I couldn’t help myself. And I don’t like that—I don’t like feeling like I might not be able to…to stop. I mean, what happens when we have to pay the Sin Tax again, for the next circle. What happens when—”

“Gwendolyn…Gwendolyn.” I dropped Kurex’s bridle and took her by the shoulders. “If you’re afraid that you won’t be able to stop yourself from going too far, don’t worry.”

“Of course I worry!” Her eyes were wide. “I don’t want to lose half my power. I don’t want to end up like—” She stopped abruptly, biting her lip. “I don’t want to end up stuck in the middle of Hell without enough power to help myself,” she finished.

“You won’t,” I said gently. “I won’t let you. Would it make you feel better if I told you I wouldn’t let you go so far—not until the very end and not unless it is absolutely necessary?”

She looked at me suspiciously. “You’re saying you’ll stop? That you won’t take my virginity?”

“Not unless there is no other way to pass through to the seventh circle and enter the Abyss,” I said.

Gwendolyn shook her head. “But why would you do that? Why would you promise that? I thought that was the main thing you wanted from me—the only thing you wanted. Why else would you agree to come on the quest with me and help me close the door I opened?”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Did it never occur to you that I agreed to help you simply to get closer to you? Because I crave the pleasure of your company?”

“No,” she said flatly. “It didn’t.”

It was yet another indication of the way she didn’t trust me. Inwardly, I sighed.

“Well, it should have,” I said lightly. “Just because I am a demon of lust does not mean that bedding you is my sole intention.”

“Wait a minute.” She held up a hand to stop me. “You’re a demon of lust? That’s your thing?”

“It is my area of expertise.” I shrugged. “What of it?”

“Well, I mean, that explains everything.” She sounded relieved. “I mean if lust is what you do, no wonder I lose control when you touch me. No wonder I can’t help myself.”

“And it has nothing to do with the fact that you have even the slightest bit of emotion for me,” I murmured. “Or the fact that we belong together—that you fit so well in my arms it is as though your body was made for my touch.”

“I…” She bit her lip, her eyes uncertain.

“Come.” I took up Kurex’s reins again and tugged to get the horse moving. “We have a bit to go yet before we are in sight of Baator and it is an uphill climb.”

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

I followed Laish silently as we climbed up the steep hill that led from the banks of the Styx to the city we were aiming for. Could it be true what he had said about me having feelings for him? And what about all this “we belong together” crap? I mean it was just that—just crap—right? It was crazy, a witch couldn’t belong with a demon because a demon has no soul to bond with. Which also made them completely incapable of long term relationships.

But if everything he’d said was a lie, why had he promised not to take my virginity unless he really had to? Why had he promised to wait until the end of our trip, so I didn’t have to fear being powerless (or nearly powerless) in Hell?

Something was definitely going on and I didn’t know if I bought what he was selling—that he was honestly just helping me because he liked to spend time with me. But if he wasn’t doing this to take my virginity, then why was he doing it?

My thoughts spun like this, in dizzying loops, until we reached the top of the steep hill.

“Behold,” Laish said softly as we looked down onto the other side. “The great city of Baator. Also known as the Sinking City.”

“The Sinking City?” I stared at the vast rat’s nest of buildings and roads far below us. Even from a distance it looked squalid and dirty. Or maybe that was just the effect of the dull green sky above our heads. Rising high above the skyline was one building that dominated all the others—a vast black spike that pointed like an accusing finger into the dirty gray clouds.

“The city is built in the middle of a marsh on immense iron pillars,” Laish explained. “It is constantly sinking into the quagmire.”

“But…then, why hasn’t it just sunk all the way down and disappeared by now?”

“Do you hear that faint sound? Coming from the city?” Laish asked.

I cupped a hand to my ear and concentrated. After a moment, I heard it. A deep moaning or groaning sound that could almost be mistaken for the wind.

“You do, don’t you?” he asked and I nodded. “That is the sound of the damned souls working to keep Baator above the marsh. There is a complicated system of pulleys and dredges attached to the iron pillars it is built upon. The souls labor endlessly just to keep the city where it is.”

I shook my head. “But…why build a huge city in the middle of a marsh in the first place? That would be like putting Miami in the middle of the Everglades.”

Laish shrugged. “Tiamat the Exacting, the ArchDemon who rules here, has also been called Tiamat the Mad. When Lucifer granted him this circle of Hell to rule, he picked out this spot and declared it the perfect place for his capital city. He would hear no arguments to the contrary and since he has managed to make it work, none can gainsay him again.”

“He makes it work by forcing the poor people to slave for eternity, you mean,” I said indignantly. “That’s torture!”

“Gwendolyn, the laborers he uses are the souls of the damned,” Laish pointed out. “They are here to be tortured. Besides, the souls in this circle are those who abused or neglected children. They deserve whatever torture Tiamat can devise for them.”

“Oh.” I shivered. “Well, in that case…”

“Yes.” Laish stretched and sighed. “We will stop here for a bit to eat and relax before we go on.”

“Shouldn’t we get a little closer to the city?” I looked up at the dark, sickly green sky overhead. “I mean, is it safe to be out here at night?”

“It is not,” Laish said. “But don’t worry, mon ange, we have plenty of time to get there. Once one gets to the Iron Spike, the city is reached very rapidly.”

“The Iron Spike? Are you talking about that huge black building?” I pointed at the vast pinnacle looming over the rest of the city.

“Not at all.” Laish was already settling down on the short, scrubby grass. “Although that is our destination once we enter Baator—it is the Hotel Infernal. The Iron Spike is simply a landmark that lets one know Baator is close. We should reach it shortly once we begin traveling again. But first, let us have something to eat.”

“Fine.” I sat down in the grass beside him and reached into my leather satchel.

“What would you like to eat?” Laish asked. He had pulled out a small, sharp dagger with an elaborately worked ebony handle and had it poised in midair, as if he was about to carve an invisible ham.

I frowned. “Um, nothing, thank you. Grams packed me some things.”

I got my plastic Sponge Bob sandwich container and my Zephyrhills water bottle out of my bag while Laish looked on, apparently amused.

“This is what your grandmother packed you?” he asked as I took out half of a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich and prepared to take a bite.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You got something against PB&J?”

“No. But it doesn’t look like something one would want to eat on a regular basis.”

“It’s fine,” I said stolidly, taking a bite. In fact, it was delicious even if Grams had gone a little heavy on the jam. It was gooey and so sweet it made my teeth ache, exactly the way I had loved it as a little girl. The adult me, however, had to admit that it wasn’t something I would probably want all the time. Tough titty, though—I had better get used to it. It was either PB&J every day or a permanent vacation in Hell. I could eat a million gooey, too-sweet sandwiches if I had to.

Laish shrugged and pulled an apple out of the air for Kurex and another for himself. He used the black handled knife to cut himself a piece and ate it. Kurex munched his own apple in one bite and then dropped his huge head to crop at the dry, grayish-brown grass at our feet.

I looked a bit enviously at the apple—it looked like a golden delicious with warm yellow skin and pale, crisp flesh on the inside.

“Would you like a bite?” Laish cut another piece and held it out to me temptingly.

“No thanks.” I shook my head. No matter how good it looked, there was no way I was even going to take even the tiniest nibble. I took another bite of my sandwich instead and a big glob of jelly squirted out and slid down my wrist. “Oops!”

I held out my hand, not wanting to get the jelly on my dress—mainly because I was afraid that if I ruined this outfit Laish might come up with something even more revealing for me to wear.

“Careful mon ange.” Laish caught me by the wrist. “Look what a mess you’ve made,” he murmured. Before I could say a word, he lifted my hand to his mouth and licked the jelly off my skin with one long, slow swipe of his tongue.

I bit back a gasp at the warm wet heat of his mouth on the ticklish inside of my wrist. My pulse was pounding but I didn’t want him to know it—didn’t want him to see how much his touch affected me.

“Are you done?” I asked, trying to make my voice sound impatient.

“For now. Delicious,” Laish murmured, releasing my hand at last. I had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about Grams’ homemade jelly.

“I’m full,” I said, rising on unsteady legs. I walked over to Kurex and offered him the rest of my sandwich. I didn’t need to save it for later because the container was always spelled to be full. The next time I opened it up, there would be another sandwich waiting for me. And the time after that and the time after that…

The thought of so many gooey, too-sweet PB&Js looming in my future was a bit depressing but I tried not to think about it. Kurex could always eat anything I couldn’t finish. From the way the huge animal inhaled the little bit I had in my hand, spare sandwich disposal was not going to be a problem.

“It looks like we have a long way to get to the city,” I said as Laish came to join me. “Should we ride for a while?” The minute I said the words, I wished I hadn’t. Riding was going to put me right up against him again and I really didn’t want that—not when my stomach was still fluttering from the way he had licked my wrist.

“We will ride but not because of the distance—the city will be upon us before you know it. We will ride because it is safer to be mounted than on foot.” His voice had a rather grim ring to it and I glanced at him.

“This is only the second level though, right? Is the city of Baator really that much worse than the area we just went through?”

“It’s not nearly as bad as some of the areas we will be journeying through,” he said, which wasn’t very comforting. “Come, let’s mount up.”

“All right.” I took a swig from my Zephyrhills bottle, savoring the pure, clean spring water and then packed it and my spelled Sponge Bob sandwich case carefully away in my bag.

Laish mounted first, as he had before and this time I had a much easier time getting up as well. It helped that I was no longer afraid of Kurex, who whickered softly as though encouraging me when I grabbed Laish’s hand and let him pull me up to sit in front of him.

Reaching around me, he took the reins and kicked the vast horse’s sides. Kurex obediently started forward, moving down the huge slope we had climbed and into the dank and marshy basin that was home to the city of Baator.

It seemed that Kurex had only taken one or two strides when there was suddenly a huge, black iron monolith blocking our path. Looking up, I saw it came to a sharp point several feet above our heads. It must be the iron spike Laish had spoken of—the landmark that showed the way to the city. But it was really big—big enough that I couldn’t have fit my arms around it if I hugged it—not that I wanted to. The point was, why hadn’t I seen it before? How could I have missed it?

“Oh!” I put a hand to my chest, startled by the spike’s sudden appearance. However, neither Laish or Kurex seemed the least bit surprised. The huge horse stopped and stood, as though waiting for some sign and Laish put an arm around my waist. “What—?” I began, shifting in his grip but he only tightened his arm and drew me back against his chest.

“Hold on, Gwendolyn,” he murmured in my ear. “And whatever you do, don’t get off the horse or leave my side.”

“Okay,” I said. “But the city is still miles away.” Indeed, Baator still looked just as distant as it had while we were having our little picnic at the top of the hill.

“It is not nearly so distant as it appears,” Laish said and his deep voice sounded grim. “Hold on,” he repeated and kicked his heels into Kurex’s flanks.

With a snort, the huge horse sprang forward and all at once, we were in the center of a teaming crowd and surrounded by crumbling buildings.

I didn’t know how it had happened but in the second it took Kurex to step forward once, we were suddenly in the middle of Baator.

Chapter Twelve

Laish

The crowd of minor demons, soul strippers, imps, and damned souls surged around us, pressing against our mount’s broad sides like the waves of an ocean. I was glad, now, that I had allowed Gwendolyn to talk me into bringing Kurex with us. He was invaluable for keeping her above the grasping, moaning masses and out of harm’s way. Mostly, anyway.

Despite all I could do, one of the minor demons with bright yellow eyes and a long forked tongue lolling from its lipless mouth, grasped at Gwendolyn’s foot, seeking to drag her from the saddle.

“Oh!” she cried, and grasped the arm I still had tight around her waist. I was prepared for such an eventuality, however. Kicking one foot free of the stirrup, I booted the would-be kidnapper right in the face. He let go at once and ran off howling.

Gwendolyn was no worse for the wear but the little black slipper she wore had been lost in the encounter.

“My shoe!” she exclaimed as I kicked Kurex forward, forcing the teeming crowd to part before us.

“Leave it.” My voice was strained—I didn’t like bringing her among so many denizens of the Infernal Realm at once. But there was no help for it—the central square of Baator is always crowded, day and night—filled with slaves, flesh sellers, dream peddlers, lost souls, and demons of all sorts and classes.

I maneuvered the great horse through the crowd as swiftly as I could, heedless of those Kurex crushed beneath his massive hooves. If they weren’t quick enough to get out of the way, that was their look out. My only consideration was getting Gwendolyn to the relative safety of the Hotel Infernal as quickly as I could.

At last we reached the edge of the masses and found a broad main street that was much less crowded. I loosed my grip on Kurex’s reins—he knew the way to the hotel—and turned my attention to my little witch.

Gwendolyn was trembling in my arms and her sharp little fingernails bit into my forearm even through the suit I wore.

“Mon ange?” I asked softly, brushing aside a sheaf of silky hair to murmur in her ear. “Are you all right?”

“Why…why did it grab me like that?”

“I told you before—Hell is full of opportunists,” I told her. “The demon saw you as fresh meat and sought to take you for his own purposes.”

“Which were what?” she demanded, turning to look at me. “Did he want to eat me?”

“Most likely,” I said as blandly as I could. “After having his way with you.”

“You mean…”

I sighed. “Do not make me be more specific. You know what I mean, Gwendolyn.”

“So is everyone in Hell like that—looking to grab anybody they can and just beat them or eat them or rape them? Or all three?” Her wide eyed look said that though she had known this fact intellectually, the reality of the situation was just now hitting her. Good, at last she was beginning to understand the danger she was in every minute she was here.

“Imagine the worst, most dangerous prison you have on Earth,” I told her, wanting to drive the point home. “One filled with desperate criminals—murderers, rapists, madmen… That is Hell. Only Hell is ten times…a hundred times…a thousand times worse. I will say it again, Gwendolyn—you cannot trust anyone here.”

“Anyone but you, you mean.” There was a slight edge to her voice that let me know she still withheld that trust which I so craved from her, at least in part.

“Anyone but me,” I agreed, ignoring her tone. “I am sorry you were frightened by the crowds but we will shortly be someplace considerably more civilized…if no less dangerous.”

“Where are you taking me?” She still looked at me uncertainly.

“There.” I pointed straight ahead, knowing that the Hotel Infernal would be in our sightline. It is visible from anyplace in the city and all roads in Baator lead to it eventually.

“What is that place?” Gwendolyn shivered as she viewed the vast structure rising before us. It was shaped rather like a huge, elongated pyramid with its black metal sides rising infinitely high above us. Indeed, it was said that there were an infinite number of rooms in the hotel so that there was always a place for all who cared to stay. All who could pay, that was.

Luckily, I knew the proprietor and had unlimited means at my disposal. Druaga was a high-level demon ruled by his greed and lust for the finer things. He would be happy to host one of my station. The only difficulty would be in keeping his greedy paws off Gwendolyn—literally.

Druaga was a Wendingo—a hybrid demon with the body of a man but the head of a wild boar and he had the appetites to match his appearance. He wouldn’t dare touch Gwendolyn as long as she was with me but he would be instantly suspicious if he realized I was traveling with a human concubine. It would be best to avoid him after checking in to the hotel—although I wasn’t sure it would be possible.

As Kurex clopped over the broken pavement towards the Hotel Infernal, I debated on how much I should tell Gwendolyn about Druaga’s lechery and the danger of getting too close to him. I didn’t want to frighten her any more than she’d already been frightened—which was considerably, I judged. Besides, we were only staying for a single night at the hotel. It would be best simply to check into a room and keep her close at hand, away from his greedy eyes and grasping paws. And since the border to Minauros, the next Circle of Hell, could be reached simply by stepping through the hotel’s sixth exit, we would be able to pay the Sin Tax in comfort on one of the Infernal’s excellent beds.

I was very much looking forward to that although I wasn’t sure how Gwendolyn would feel about it. Though she protested she didn’t want to give herself to me, her body told a different story. Just remembering the way she’d panted and moaned against me on the banks of the river Styx was enough to make me hard and ready. Not that I would make love to her tonight—it was far too early for that. But just the prospect of caressing her sweet curves and hearing those soft, helpless sounds she made when she was aroused was most tantalizing.

I couldn’t wait.

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

There was a small group of children playing along the broken streets, which surprised me considerably. Some of them looked to be around nine or ten but there were several I would have sworn were barely four or five.

“What are they doing here?” I blurted, staring at their ragged clothes and hollow cheeks. “I thought you said this circle of Hell was reserved for people who had beaten and neglected children. How can there be kids here? It can’t be safe for them!”

“Those? They’re devilkins.” Laish waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t show too much interest in them, mon ange—you don’t want to encourage them.”

Despite his warning, I couldn’t help staring as we passed the ragged group. Several of them stared back, their eyes huge and hungry-looking. One little boy in particular caught my eye. He had pale blue eyes and tousled blond curls. If he hadn’t been half starved, he would have looked like one of those baby angels in a Renaissance painting—a cherub.

Poor little thing! I didn’t care what Laish said—these kids looked like they were in bad shape. I’m no social worker but I don’t like seeing children hurt or abandoned or in danger and this little group looked like they were three for three on that score. Some had bruises and what looked like bite marks on their arms and legs and none of them looked like they’d had a decent meal their whole lives.

How do they survive in this horrible city? I wondered. How do they keep from being grabbed and murdered or worse in those awful crowds we passed through? Maybe they stuck together, taking care of each other and avoided the central square of Baator. Maybe the older ones took care of the little ones? I hoped it was something like that although it would be better if they had an adult to care for them.

I wished I could do something for them. If I’d been back home, I would have called somebody and reported the situation at the very least. But it wasn’t like I could call Children’s Services in Hell.

We passed by them and the little cherub-looking boy with the blond curls stared after me until they were out of sight.

When we got to the huge front door of the vast black spire Laish had called the Hotel Infernal, two red skinned demons with sharp, crooked teeth and doormen’s coats hastily came to attention.

“Who asks entrance?” one demanded, eyeing Laish uncertainly.

“Laish, Lord of Hades,” he said in a cool, controlled voice. “Open the door before I flay the flesh from your bones.”

The demons sprung to attention at once.

“My Lord Laish—forgive us! We are but lesser demons—we did not know!”

Laish said a single word in that harsh language I was beginning to think of as “Hell Speak” and they silenced at once. As one, they gripped the enormous door handles and pulled, revealing a vast lobby that seemed to be carved entirely of black marble.

The opening the doors made was plenty big enough for Kurex to walk through with us still sitting on his back. Which in fact, is what we did. If the minor demons had a problem with Laish riding a huge demon horse into their hotel lobby, they didn’t say anything about it. But the way they were looking at him from the corners of their yellow eyes made me think they wouldn’t have said anything if he’d decided to bring a whole herd of horses with him into the hotel.

“So, ‘Lord of Hades’ is it?” I murmured, turning my head to give him a sidelong glance as Kurex’s hooves echoed on the black marble. “That’s pretty major I’d say.”

He shrugged laconically.

“As to that, who can say? Some are more impressed by titles than others.”

“Titles or threats?” I asked. “And by the way those two jumped to attention, I’d say you must have the power to back up your threats.”

“Possibly.” He was still playing dumb which was really irritating. I wanted to know exactly how important and powerful he was. Back when I’d first worked my spell, I had been trying to get the most minor demon I could but I was beginning to believe I had brought over Hell’s version of a powerful CEO—or I’d brought over a general when I was trying for a private, if you prefer a military analogy.

“Could you really, uh, flay the flesh from their bones if you wanted to?” I asked him, trying to read the look in those ruby red eyes. “I mean, don’t you need a whip for that?”

“I could do it with a single word of power which I will not utter here,” he remarked. “It might cause you discomfort even if it was not directed at you and I would not wish to do that.”

“Thanks so much,” I said dryly. “But it’s discomforting enough to know I’m with someone who can strip people’s flesh from their bones just by saying the right thing. Or the wrong thing, I guess.”

“You should feel reassured, Gwendolyn,” he murmured, pulling me back against him. “That you are with someone who can protect you.”

I straightened my spine, refusing to melt against him but I had to admit he was right. He’d certainly protected me when the demon had grabbed me in the crowd. I’d felt myself sliding from the horse’s back and had seen the gleaming eyes and sharp teeth of the demon who wanted me all in one frantic instant. Then Laish had kicked the creature in the face and pulled me back to safety.

If I had been with a lesser demon, would they have been able to save me? I thought not. Maybe it was good I’d gotten the CEO when I cast my spell rather than the guy who worked in the mail room, although it was irritating that he still wouldn’t admit outright to me who and what he was.

Kurex clopped towards the vast black marble desk that ran the length of one whole wall. It was so long I couldn’t see either end of it—we appeared to be headed to somewhere in the middle. The ceiling was far above us, when I looked up I could barely see it. A gleaming crystal chandelier a big as small house hung suspended above us and cast its cold, silvery light over the lobby. Here and there, small groupings of furniture were scattered, mostly upholstered in red and black leather.

Several of the chairs held well-dressed demons or other creatures who were drinking and talking quietly—just as if they were businessmen discussing deals. Well, maybe they were. Only they were more likely to be selling and buying souls than stocks and bonds. I shivered. Several of them glanced at us as we rode the huge horse through the vast black lobby but none seemed to think us worth a second look.

“Wow, it’s huge in here,” I remarked softly. “I mean, the outside is really big but the inside—”

“Is infinite,” Laish murmured in my ear, finishing my thought. “Literally. There are said to be an infinite number of rooms within these walls—enough for all who have the means to stay here.”

“Guess they don’t have to invest in a ‘no vacancy’ sign then,” I said. Not that I could see a place like this having a blinking neon sign anywhere on the premises. The Hotel Infernal was hands down the most imposing and expensive hotel I’d ever been in and that included the Safety Harbor Spa and Resort where my friend, Amanda had married her fiancée who was a very well to do cardiac surgeon.

When we reached the marble desk a demon with pale blue skin looked up and nodded at us. He had elegant spiral horns like an antelope’s on either side of his head.

“Good evening, Sir, Maaadam,” he murmured in a low, polite voice that was only slightly spoiled by sounding like a goat’s bleat. “How may I aaaccommodate you today?”

“We’ll need your finest suite for the night,” Laish said crisply. “And I do mean the finest—one here on the first floor will do.”

The pale blue antelope demon gave him a haughty look.

“The first floor suites aaare reserved for the lords of the realm—the Great Demons. Only a Prince of Night and Shadow may reserve one. I caaannot—”

“Did the doormen not tell you who I am?” Laish’s voice was silky smooth and very, very dangerous. “If you have doubts as to my right to take a first floor suite, please call your master, Druaga.”

“Aaas you wish, Sir. But I warn you—if you do not have the proper staaatus to disturb him, my maaaster will be most displeased.”

“Just call him,” Laish said. “Now.”

The demonic desk clerk picked up a big, old fashioned looking phone and put the heavy black receiver to his ear. It reminded me of Gram’s old house phone—the one I finally convinced her to replace because it had a rotary dial.

The demon spoke softly into the receiver and then nodded once before replacing it.

“My maaaster is on his way, Sir.”

“Very good.” Laish nodded.

I sat quietly in front of him, wondering what was going to happen next. Was he really one of the Great Demons—the seven lords of Hell that answered only to Lucifer himself? If so, I was so completely outmatched that my own magical talents must seem laughable to him. I wondered why he hadn’t told me at once—and why he hadn’t blasted me when I had mouthed off to him on numerous occasions. After all, anyone who can flay demons alive with a single word would have no problem punishing a mouthy witch.

After a long moment in which the demonic desk clerk pretended to be busy with paperwork while watching us from the corner of his yellow eye, a huge creature in a mustard colored hounds-tooth suit suddenly appeared in front of us. I say creature because though he had the body of a man, he certainly wasn’t human.

The head of a wild boar with long, curving tusks poked out of the neck of his immaculate white collar. The tusks were capped in gold but what really caught my attention was the eyes—they, at least, were human. Or sentient anyway—they weren’t animal eyes, is what I’m trying to say. Seeing those normal-looking brown eyes in an animal’s face seemed weird and wrong.

Even wronger was the fact that his immaculately cut suit had an opening in the crotch where his fly should have been. When my gaze finally drifted down from his bizarre face, I had to bite back a gasp. Massive genitals dangled outside the hounds-tooth suit, swinging when the creature moved. Ugh!

I tried not to look but it was kind of like a train wreck—hard to look away. Could anyone actually be that big? He looked like he might give Kurex a run for his money—it was offensive to see something that huge on a human form. Then again, it was offensive for him to have it all out in the open like that—even though it kind of made sense. It was obvious why he’d had to have his pants tailored with a hole in them—there was no way his equipment would fit in a normal pair of trousers.

“Who dares disturb me?” the boar-headed demon with the mammoth dick growled, looking up at Laish. “How dare you demand a first floor suite?”

“It’s me, Druaga,” Laish said mildly. “Laish.”

“My Lord Laish?” The boar-headed demon looked at him uncertainly. “I was going to punish my underling…” He motioned at the antelope-demon who was now cowering against the counter, his earlier superiority forgotten. “But how could anyone recognize you in that form?”

“I am traveling incognito with my new concubine,” Laish explained, as he had before. “We require accommodations for the night, as I was explaining to your desk clerk here.”

“Ah yes of course, your concubine.”

The boar-headed demon turned his attention to me—in more than one way. As those disturbingly human eyes crawled their way over my body, the massive shaft between his legs began to swell. Ugh! I wished I was wearing a parka instead of the thin, red silk dress Laish had made me put on.

“Such a lovely little thing,” Druaga muttered, a bit of drool escaping his tusked mouth. “Tell me, Laish, have you had her long? Is she properly broken in?”

“That is none of your concern.” Laish tightened his arm around my waist possessively. “We simply want a room for the night. Will you accommodate us or not?”

“Yes, yes—of course! Of course, my Lord.” Druaga bowed obsequiously but his eyes never left me and I couldn’t help noticing his trouser snake didn’t go down either. Double ugh! “In fact, you must have supper with me tonight in my own private quarters,” he continued in his deep, hoarse voice as he handed Laish a broad, leather-bound book and a feathery black quill pen.

“That will not be necessary,” Laish said firmly as he signed the book with a flourish and handed it back. “We appreciate your offer but my concubine has a rather delicate system and particular dietary requirements. She has therefore brought her own nourishment with her.”

“Very well.” Druaga looked pissed off—at least I thought he did, it was hard to tell because of the boar’s head—but he only nodded. “Nairn,” he snapped at the antelope-horned demon who had been crouching quietly as far from his master as he could get during the entire encounter. “Give Lord Laish suite 104. It has an excellent view of our gardens,” he continued, turning back to us. “As well as a very comfortable bed. You should be very happy there.” He leered at me and his massive shaft twitched, making me want to gag.

“Thank you.” Laish nodded and reached down for the golden door key which the antelope-horned demon was holding out in one trembling hand. Clearly he still expected some kind of punishment for not recognizing Laish and treating him as he ought to.

“I’ll send someone to tend your steed,” Druaga promised.

“Thank you but I will tend to him myself,” Laish said. “Do you still have stables located in the lower level?”

“Indeed we do. But maybe you’d reconsider my offer of dinner?”

“You’re most kind,” Laish said firmly. “But we couldn’t possibly. My concubine is tired after a long day of riding. We must bid you goodnight.”

“At least let me send a selection of delicacies to your lady.” Druaga leered at me hopefully. “No matter what her tastes I am certain we can, ah, accommodate her.” Okay, I was seriously going to be sick if he kept looking at me like that.

“If you want to send some food somewhere, why not give some to the kids who live outside your hotel?” I said, speaking up for the first time. “They look like they’re starving.”

Druaga raised his hairy eyebrows.

“Kids? You mean children?”

I felt Laish stiffen behind me and he let out a hiss of annoyance.

“They are merely devilkins. Pay no attention—my concubine is innocent and has no idea what she is talking about.”

It was my turn to stiffen with annoyance. I opened my mouth to say something but Laish put a large hand on my thigh and squeezed warningly. Clearly he thought I had said enough already. Reluctantly, I closed my mouth again, promising myself I’d give him a piece of my mind when we got to the room.

“If you wish me to send food to the devilkins, my lady, it can be managed,” Druaga said, smirking at me. “Of course, there would be an, ahem, extra charge.”

“No!” Laish said sharply. “Thank you but we do not wish to incur any extra charges for food, drink, or any other delicacies or specialties of the hotel.”

“We can speak of it more over dinner in my private apartments,” the demon suggested.

“Again, I must decline. The room for the night is all we require.”

“Very well.” The demonic hotel manager—or was he the owner?—looked a little disgruntled but there didn’t seem to be anything else he could do or say. Apparently he couldn’t make Laish accept his offer of dinner. For which I was very glad. The way those small, piggy eyes of his had been crawling over my breasts while his huge hose-beast of a cock twitched and drooled between his thighs had me wanting to take a very long, very hot shower.

“Wow, he really wanted us to come to dinner,” I remarked under my breath as Laish steered Kurex away from the long desk and towards the end of the lobby.

“Because he wishes us to incur a soul debt.” Laish sounded very displeased.

“What? But you don’t have a soul,” I protested.

“No, but you do. A fact which I am afraid your naïve statement that he should send food to the devilkins has exposed. No one but an untried human would have thought of such a thing.”

“You mean no one without compassion,” I said hotly. “Those kids are starving, Laish—you could see it in their eyes! I know you’re a demon and all that but do you have to be so hard hearted?”

“As to that, my heart is much softer than it should be—but only towards you, mon ange.” He frowned at me.

“I don’t care what you say—they’re hungry.”

“No one disputes that.” His eyes flashed. “Though their appetites might surprise you.”

“But—”

“Do not presume to lecture me on subjects you do not understand. The devilkins are not to be trusted any more than Druaga is. For all their outward appearances are different, inside they are the same.”

“I’m so sure,” I muttered. Comparing that sweet-looking little cherub boy to the grotesque boar-headed demon seemed ridiculous but Laish was clearly not going to listen to reason.

I fumed silently as we rode, but Laish still had more to say.

“Now that Druaga suspects what you are, we must be even more vigilant,” he said in my ear. “Had you simply remained silent he would have been too distracted by your beauty to notice you are more than you seem.”

“Distracted by my beauty.” I looked down at the thin red gown which clung to my breasts, outlining them suggestively. “Right.”

“You think I have dressed you as you are only for my own pleasure?” Laish demanded in a low voice. “It is a kind of camouflage, Gwendolyn. It distracts the sharp eyes of those who would expose you and put us in more danger than we are already in.” He stroked my thigh through the slippery red silk, making me shift uneasily as sparks of unwilling pleasure raced through my veins. “Not that it does any good if you are determined to expose yourself,” he said roughly.

“I’ll try to remember to keep my mouth shut in the future,” I snapped as Laish directed the huge horse down a long, carpeted hallway. “Stay quiet and look pretty. Great career advice.”

“It is if you are a concubine,” he remarked, sounding amused.

“I don’t understand though,” I said. “If secrecy is so important, why tell anyone at all who you are? Why not just go incognito and pretend you’re another, uh, demon-businessman, like the ones we saw in the lobby?”

“You mean the flesh merchants?” He sounded disgusted. “I would never allow myself to be classed with them. Besides, the upper floors of the hotel are difficult to get to and not nearly as safe as the first floor suites.”

“But this is a respectable establishment, isn’t it?” I asked, frowning. “How can it not be safe here?”

“No place in Hell is completely safe,” he said seriously. “You must remember that, mon ange. Ah—here we are.”

We had finally come to the end of the broad hallway—which reminded me more than a little of the one in The Shining—and found ourselves in front of a single door. A brass number 4 gleamed at us and there was an old fashioned keyhole just under the doorknob. No new-fangled key cards for the Hotel Infernal—apparently here everything was strictly old fashioned and by-the-book.

Laish dismounted easily and unlocked the door with the key. It swung open, revealing an opulent room carpeted in black and dotted with white furniture.

“My lady.” Laish turned to me and offered his hand to help me down from the horse. This time I took it, though I couldn’t help thinking that I was getting dangerously used to his touch. Which really wasn’t surprising considering how closely we were pressed together while we were riding.

Well, I was out of the saddle now and it was time to put a little distance between us. I dropped Laish’s hand as quickly and as casually as I could once I got off Kurex’s back and went to look inside the suite.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous!” I breathed as I stepped inside. Or maybe I should say, stepped down because it was a sunken room with a deep step just inside the doorway. The carpet was rich and thick, made of something that almost felt alive. It caressed my bare feet (I’d taken off the other black ballet flat) making me feel like I was getting a foot massage as I walked.

“Take your time and explore,” Laish said, nodding at the huge suite. “I must go tend to Kurex. I do not trust him to any of the handlers Druaga has on his staff.” He pointed a finger at me. “You are to stay in the room the entire time I am gone and do not open the door to anyone. Furthermore, do not accept any kind of offer, no matter how small or inconsequential it may seem.”

“Yes, sir.” I gave him a sarcastic little mock salute. “And should I put myself to bed early without supper while I’m at it?”

Laish’s eyes were suddenly half-lidded, his ruby eyes glowing as he looked at me.

“As to that, mon ange, I shall return and put you to bed myself. A process I am very much looking forward to.”

“What do you mean?” Despite myself, my heart started to pound. “We…I thought we didn’t have to…to do that unless we were paying the Sin Tax to get into the next level—the third circle of Hell.”

“The border between Baator and Minauros, the Great Dessert, is just beyond the sixth exit of the Hotel Infernal,” he said softly. “Therefore we may pay the Sin Tax ahead of time and in a much more leisurely fashion than we paid to get into the second circle.”

“We can?” I faltered, hating the tremor in my voice but unable to help it.

“Most assuredly.” His eyes were still burning.

“Remember your promise, Laish,” I said quickly. “You said you wouldn’t take me…wouldn’t go too far.”

“Yes, but we must at least go further than we did to cross the Styx,” he murmured. “The fee to travel deeper into the Infernal Realm grows with each step.”

“But still,” I said. “You told me you wouldn’t do that unless you had to. Until the end.”

His ruby eyes raked over me, making me feel incredibly naked.

“Just because I may not yet make love to you doesn’t mean I don’t anticipate stroking your beautiful body and making you come tonight, mon ange.”

“I…you…” For once I was at a loss for words. Grams would have called it a miracle—she says I always have something to say for myself whether I should say it or not. But this time I found nothing.

Laish didn’t seem a bit bothered by my silence. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Enjoy yourself while I am gone, Gwendolyn and remember what I said.”

Then he closed the door behind him, leaving me alone in the huge suite with a ball of apprehension like a block of ice melting in my stomach.

Chapter Thirteen

Gwendolyn

I tried to shake off the worry Laish’s words had caused in me and decided to just go explore the suite. I hadn’t known what to expect for accommodations during my journey through Hell but staying a night in a high-roller suite wasn’t one of them. It was a pleasant surprise—or so I tried to tell myself. But somehow his words kept echoing in my head. “Just because I may not yet make love to you doesn’t mean I don’t anticipate stroking your beautiful body and making you come…”

Seriously, what was he going to do to me? I’d never let any guy I ever dated get beyond second base—or below the belt, however you wanted to say it. Earlier when he’d cupped my pussy on the banks of the river Styx, I’d trembled against him and shamed myself by begging for more and he was only touching me outside my panties. This time I had a feeling he wasn’t going to stop—the thin barrier of silk and lace would be gone—long gone. And I was going to have those big, warm hands all over my body, whether I wanted to or not.

The problem was that deep down I wanted to—a Hell of a lot, no pun intended.

Stop it, I reminded myself firmly. He’s a demon, remember? And a demon of lust at that. No wonder it’s hard to say no to him but that doesn’t mean you have to make a fool of yourself. He wants to pay the Sin Tax—fine, there’s no getting around that. But you can pay it without gasping and begging like some horny actress in a porno at least. No matter what happens, just keep control of yourself.

Having given myself a stern lecture, I felt a little better about the situation at hand. After all, I had gone into this with my eyes open. There were just some things that would have to be done in order to achieve my goal. That didn’t mean I had to enjoy them—only that I had to endure them. And in the meantime, I was going to stop stressing about the whole mess and just go explore the opulent suite.

The sunken room with its soft black carpet had a living room area with wide, white leather couches grouped around a central fire pit. There was also well as a bar stocked with every imaginable liquor and quite a few I didn’t recognize at all. And that was saying something considering I’d done a little bartending in college before I started capitalizing on my witchy roots to make a living.

The bar area led into another room and the moment I walked in and saw the vast, king-sized bed I knew what it was for. A luxurious white fur spread covered its wide surface and mounds of plump pillows were piled against the headboard.

“Hmmm…” I ran a hand over the spread and wasn’t at all surprised to find it was real fur. Probably baby seal fur or something awful and reprehensible like that. This was Hell, after all. If they didn’t give a damn about starving kids right out on the street, they sure weren’t going to mind clubbing a few dozen seals to make a bedspread.

I pulled my hand away from the luxurious spread quickly, trying not to think about the possible source of the fur or the starving children outside the hotel. Poor things! I wished Laish would let me do something for them—I still didn’t understand why he was being so hard hearted.

Because he’s a demon, I reminded myself firmly. A demon with no soul. So don’t expect him to act like anything else and you won’t be disappointed. Still, he could be so gentle and kind with me. It seemed wrong that he wouldn’t even consider the plight of those poor little children…well, maybe I could find a way to give them something on our way out of the hotel. I sighed and went to explore some more.

The bedroom led into a large master bathroom with a black marble tub so huge it looked like you could do laps in it—a far cry from the cramped shower-tub combo in Grams’ house. I went to it eagerly and found a selection of bubble baths and scented oils in fancy bottles lined up on one side. Perfect!

I practically clapped my hands in delight. I love long, luxurious bubble baths—who doesn’t? And I almost never got to have one since the hot water heater at Grams’ house wasn’t exactly huge.

Back home I’d run half a tub of hot water before the heat ran out. I could either sit in a half-full tub or fill the rest with cold and have a tepid bath which was no fun. Here, it appeared, I could soak to my heart’s content.

“Well, I know what I’m going to be doing tonight,” I murmured to myself happily. Then the thought of Laish popped into my head. “Well…part of the night anyway.”

Then I had a thought—why not take a bath right now? Who knew how long it would take Laish to tend to Kurex? I was bored and the one thing the gorgeous hotel suite didn’t seem to have was a TV or any other kind of entertainment. Laish had told me to stay out of trouble and I couldn’t imagine a better way to do it. Besides, it would be a lot less embarrassing to be lolling around in the tub naked when I was here by myself than when he was there to watch me.

Mind made up, I began filling the tub. I was just pouring a generous dollop of some sweet, floral scented bubble bath under the running faucet when I heard a knock at the door. It was so soft that at first I wasn’t certain I’d heard anything—it was hard to hear over the rush of the water. Then it came again—louder this time. Someone was definitely at the door.

I felt a stab of apprehension. Who could it be? Laish had warned me not to trust anyone or to let anyone in. Should I even go look or just ignore it?

The knocking sounded again—even louder—and I decided to at least go to the door. There was a peephole in it, just under the brass number four—I had seen it as we came in. So I could look and decide if I wanted to open the door.

Quietly, I crept to the door and put my eye to the peephole. At first I didn’t see anything at all. Then a small voice said,

“Hey lady! Down here.”

Standing on my tiptoes, I tried another angle and was able to look down. To my surprise, it was the curly-headed blond boy from outside the hotel. He had something behind his back and he was looking up at me, his big blue eyes filled with hope.

“Lady,” he said again. “Are you there?”

“I’m here,” I said though the door. “What do you want sweetheart? And how did you get in here?”

“Snuck in when the guards were lettin’ somebody important in,” he said. “Got your shoe.”

He held up the other black ballet flat—the one that I’d lost in the fight with the demon in the crowded central square of Baator.

“Noticed you only had one,” he said. “And I thought…” He scuffed one bare, dirty foot in the rich carpet. “Thought you looked sad about it. So I went and found it and brought it back.” He held it higher, toward the peephole. “If you open the door I’ll give it to you.”

“Of course.” I started to unlock the door…then hesitated. Laish’s command that I not open the door to anyone still rang in my head. But surely this sweet little cherub didn’t pose a threat, did he? He’d gone out in that horrible crowd to find my shoe and risked being beaten by the doormen to sneak in and give it to me—how dangerous could he be?

I wavered for a moment but then I saw the gold chain to one side of the door. Of course—I could put the chain on and just open it a little! It seemed like a silly precaution but Laish had been so damn adamant about me not opening the door that I decided to use it.

Sliding the chain in place, I opened the door just the two inch crack it allowed. The curly little cherub was still standing there, waiting patiently and holding out my shoe.

“Here you go, lady,” he said. “You want it?”

“Of course. Thank you.”

Luckily the ballet flat wasn’t very big or it never would have fit through the crack in the door. The little boy didn’t say a word about it though—maybe he was used to not being trusted. He just shoved the thin black leather shoe through to me and turned to go.

“Wait!” The sight of his ragged little figure and hollow cheeks tore at my conscious. I mean, I try to pretend I’m a big, bad witch with a cold-ass heart but inside I’m kind of a marshmallow. When it comes to kids, anyway.

“Yeah?” He turned back hopefully, looking at me.

“You deserve a reward for going out in that awful crowd and getting my shoe for me,” I said. “In fact, you shouldn’t have gone out at all. It’s too dangerous!”

“Got to.” He shrugged. “We do it every day anyway. Sometimes people drop things—stuff to eat. You know.”

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” I asked, my heart aching for him.

He nodded, his curls flopping adorably with the exaggerated movement.

“Oh yeah! So hungry. Always hungry cause there’s never enough to eat.”

His words gave me an idea.

“Wait here a minute,” I said and went to my leather satchel, which I’d left lying on the white leather sofa. Digging out the faded plastic Sponge Bob sandwich box, I brought it with me to the door. Since it was spelled never to be empty, I could give the little boy a sandwich to eat at least. Actually, I could give him a lot of sandwiches—maybe he could bring them back to the little ragged band of street kids and they could have a feast.

Smiling at the idea, I returned to the door and reached into the Sponge Bob box.

“Here you go,” I said to the little face, waiting just outside. “I hope you like peanut butter and strawberry jam.” Pulling out a dripping, gooey PB&J, I held it out to show him.

His big blue eyes widened.

“Wow—is that for me?”

“Sure is, sweetie.” Then I realized the thick, gooey sandwich was never going to make it through the two inch crack in the door. Not without dripping strawberry jam everywhere, anyway. And I didn’t like to think what kind of damage deposit Druaga would charge for getting strawberry jam out of his immaculate carpet and off his perfect walls.

Then I got irritated with myself.

Oh to Hell with it—this is ridiculous! He’s a little boy—it can’t hurt to open the door long enough to give him a sandwich!

“Hang on,” I told the little cherub. Reaching up one handed, I released the chain and swung the door open. Then I held the sandwich out to him. “Here you go, sweetie.”

“Thanks, Lady!”

He reached for the sandwich in my outstretched hand but as he did, something changed in his face. His big blue eyes turned pure black…an inky color that bled across the whites as well, turning his eyes to pools of midnight.

“Oh!” I was so busy watching his eyes I didn’t noticed he wasn’t reaching for the sandwich at all—he was reaching for me. And I didn’t even have a clue what was going on until his strong little hand latched onto my wrist

“So…hungry!” he hissed, baring his teeth. I saw with horror they were needle sharp—not teeth but fangs—long, sharp fangs like something out of a horror movie or the worst nightmare you’ve ever had.

“No, stop—let me go!” But his grip seemed unbreakable—he was much, much stronger than he looked. I squeezed the sandwich in a nervous spasm and strawberry jam glopped all over my arm and the carpet both. I still held the Sponge Bob sandwich holder in my other hand and I gripped it tightly while I tried to get away—to get back into the suite where I felt sure I’d be safe.

“Hungry!” hissed the little boy who was looking less and less like a cherub and more like a miniature demon every second. His dead black eyes looked up at me, filled with hunger for a lot more than just PB&J. Then he bared those horrible fangs and sank them into my arm.

I screamed as pain spiked through me, sharp as a knife and the Sponge Bob sandwich container fell from my nerveless fingers. As though my scream was a signal, the hallway was suddenly filled with ragged children—or devilkins as Laish had called them. They seemed to appear from nowhere and swarmed all over me, pulling me away from the suite door while the first little monster kept his teeth locked in the flesh of my forearm.

I cried and struggled but while I might have made headway against one, the whole band of them was too much for me. As small as they were, they were fiendishly strong. There were only about ten of them but it felt like hundreds of hard little hands pulling me away from the safety of the suite and I was afraid any minute they would start biting too—devouring me in bloody chunks like a pack of piranha right there in the middle of the hallway.

Where was Laish? Still down in the basement tending to Kurex? Could he hear me if I screamed?”

“Help—help!” I shouted. Surely someone in this huge hotel had to hear me! Surely someone would help!

Someone did but it wasn’t exactly who I’d been hoping for.

“What’s this? What’s all this?” Druaga came stomping down the hall on hoofed feet, his boar’s head swinging, the gold-capped tusks gleaming. “What’s going on here?” he snorted angrily when he saw me.

“Help me! They won’t get off me! I…I think they want to eat me!” I begged, nodding desperately at the shoving mass of black-eyed, shark-teethed devil children that were swarming all over me.

“Here, you—get off! Get off the lady, now!” The huge demon grabbed one devilkin by his ragged clothing and swung him against the wall. Then another went sailing.

At this point, the devil kids seemed to understand that they were in danger and I wasn’t the free lunch I seemed to be.

Squealing and shouting, they scattered like ants when you drop a rock in their midst, and fled around the angry, snorting boar-demon. The last to go was the little cherub boy who still had his long, needle-sharp teeth buried in my arm. He let go just as Druaga was about to punt him aside with one hoofed foot and fled down the long hallway, his mouth still red with my blood.

“And stay out of my hotel!” the demon shouted in his deeper-than-human voice. One large hoofed foot stomped down hard in emphasis…and I heard the brittle crackling sound of old plastic breaking.

Oh no…

Heart sinking, I looked down to see my old Sponge Bob sandwich container in blue and yellow shards under Druaga’s foot—or hoof, I guess. Now what was I going to eat the rest of my journey through Hell?

But the loss of my perpetual PB&J maker was soon the last thing on my mind.

“Did they hurt you? Are you well, my lady?” Druaga bent to examine me, using the excuse to run his hairy hands all over my body—or as much as he could, anyway.

“I’m fine—really.” I backed away from him, trying to elude those groping fingers. Actually, I was anything but. I felt like I might burst into tears at any moment—so much for being a mean tough witch, huh? But for now a cold calm was on me.

Shock, I thought. I’m in shock. My mind was still trying to process what had just happened. How could the adorable band of rag-tag children who looked like they belonged in a production of Oliver Twist have turned into a vicious pack of ravenous predators and attacked me like that? It didn’t seem right—I felt dizzy and off balance. Unable to believe that it hadn’t just been a really vivid nightmare.

“…off so I can be certain you’re all right, my lady.”

“What?” The snorting voice broke into my train of thought and I looked up at the demonic hotel manager. “What did you say?”

“I said the bite of a devilkin can be fatal if they inject their venom,” he said. “It’s best you take off your dress so I can make sure you weren’t bitten. Purely for your own safety, of course…”

The twitching of his massive, exposed genitals belied his helpful words. Ugh—he was hard again—disgusting!

“I don’t think so…” I tried to back away from him but he caught me by the arm. “Hey, let go of me!”

“Have to make certain you’re well my lady.” He leered at me, pulling me closer to that disgusting boar’s head as well as his uncovered crotch. A rank smell like rotten fish and dirty, hairy flesh drifted up to me, making me gag. “It would never do if Lord Laish came back to find his concubine dead from neglect on my part,” he went on.

“And it would never do if he came back to see you molesting his lady, either,” another, deeper voice growled.

I looked up in relief and saw Laish striding down the hallway, a look of utter fury on his face. With each step he took, he appeared to grow larger until I wasn’t sure how the hallway could contain him.

“My Lord!” Druaga dropped my arm at once and stepped back, his erection wilting somewhat. “Forgive me—your lady was attacked and I was just—”

“Taking advantage of the situation,” Laish finished for him, his eyes blazing. “Tell me, Druaga—how did Gwendolyn come to be attacked in the first place? And who exactly attacked her?”

“It…it was those kids—the ones we saw outside the hotel,” I whispered, feeling faint. I thought…they seemed so harmless.”

Laish’s eyes widened. “Devilkins are anything but harmless. Did they hurt you?”

“I…” I shook my head, feeling too faint to answer. God, what was wrong with me? Was I still in shock or was it something else?”

Laish rounded on Druaga who by now had put some distance between us.

“How did the devilkins get into your oh-so-well guarded hotel? How were they able to attack Gwendolyn?”

The boar-demon’s face grew dark and he drew himself up.

“If you’re suggesting that I somehow planned this episode—”

“That is exactly what I am suggesting,” Laish growled. He was at the end of the hallway now, towering over the other demon with a terrible look on his face. For a moment I thought I saw his eyes go all black, like the devilkin children’s eyes had—but I blinked and they were ruby red again.

“You cannot believe such a thing,” Druaga protested. “Or even if you do, you have no proof. I came and rescued your lady from certain death and despoilment! You owe me a debt for saving her life and her honor—not unwarranted threats.”

I expected Laish to disagree with him—or maybe rip his head off his shoulders—he certainly looked angry enough to do it. Instead, he nodded briefly.

“You are correct—I have incurred a debt to you.” He glared at the boar-headed demon. “Though I am certain you engineered the situation for that exact purpose.”

Druaga put a hairy hand to his chest, looking offended.

“Most certainly not, Lord Laish! And just to show that I would never do such a thing, the only payment I ask is that the two of you break bread with me on the morrow, before you leave.”

“So…” I cleared my throat. “You want us to have breakfast with you? That’s all?”

“That is all, lovely lady.” He leered at me, making me feel sick. Or was it the shock again? Whatever it was, I was feeling more and more faint and dizzy by the minute. “I simply want to be able to say that I broke bread with one of the Princes of Darkness. It will increase my status in Baator immeasurably.”

Laish nodded curtly and seemed to shrink back to his normal size.

“Very well, I have no time to argue with you,” he growled, frowning at Druaga. “One meal together—just you and me.”

“And your lovely lady, of course.” The human eyes in the boar’s face gleamed. “She must come too.”

“All right—but I want it known that this meal will pay the debt for saving her life.”

“Yes, yes…of course, my lord.” Druaga nodded and bowed obsequiously. “I will send an imp to lead you to my private quarters tomorrow morning.”

“No,” Laish said sharply. “Not your quarters—here will do.”

“As you wish.”

“Fine. And now I must see to my concubine.” Heedless of the smashed sandwich and the plastic shards of the ruined Sponge Bob container, Laish gripped me by the arm and pulled me back into the suite.

Chapter Fourteen

Laish

“Strip!” I said at once, as soon as I had the door closed and securely fastened.

“What?” Gwendolyn took a step back from me, fear flashing in her eyes. “What do you…?”

There was no time to explain. What Druaga had been telling her about the venom of a devilkin’s bite was no lie. I had to be certain she wasn’t bitten anywhere—if she was, I had to get rid of the venom immediately and cleanse the wound. Without saying a word, I quickly began peeling the red silk dress from her lush body, needing to see for myself that she was safe and unharmed.

“No, wait…please!” Gwendolyn tried to bat my hands away but I couldn’t afford to be gentle. Devilkin venom begins working at once and, if left in the system too long, is completely lethal.

I disposed of the red dress, throwing it in a ball into the corner and reached for her panties.

“Stop!” She tried to take a step backwards and almost fell. “Oh…” She put a hand to her head. “So dizzy.”

I swore to myself in the Black Tongue and she flinched back, away from the harsh language. I didn’t want her to fear me but I had to know where they had bitten her—and how many times. I felt panic growing in me—fear that she was in danger past my ability to save her.

“Let me see you,” I demanded, trying to make my voice a little more gentle. “I need to count the bites and get rid of the venom.”

“Oh…it was just once.” She held out an arm to me and I saw something red on her café au lait skin.

Grasping her wrist, I licked it quickly, trying to ascertain from the taste how much venom had been injected. But instead of the bitter, chalky taste of devilkin venom, my mouth filled with something fruity and cloyingly sweet.

“What’s this?” I pulled back, frowning. “This isn’t blood.”

“No—it’s strawberry jam,” Gwendolyn said. She was half laughing, half crying—as though she was just on the edge of hysteria. I wasn’t surprised—being swarmed by a pack of devilkins is a disorienting experience—and a deadly one. Most don’t live to tell about it. But I was determined that she would.

“Come,” I said, pulling her wrist. I meant to take her into the bathroom where the lighting was better but she wobbled again and sank down to the floor. Damn it—the venom must already be working on her!

I swung her up in my arms and carried her through the suite, past the massive four poster bed with its fur coverlet and into the bathroom where the deep marble tub was about to overflow.

“My bubble bath!” Gwendolyn struggled weakly in my arms. “I forgot all about it.”

“Understandable considering the circumstances,” I said. Sitting her on the black marble counter that ran the length of one wall, I turned off the taps quickly and went back to her.

“Laish…I’m sorry. I should have listened to you,” she whispered, her voice soft and weak.

“Yes, you should have but never mind that now. Where were you bitten?”

“Here.” She held out her arm again and this time I saw what the smear of fruit spread had been hiding—an oval ring of wickedly deep bite marks ran around the inside of her forearm. Already black streaks were beginning to climb up her creamy brown skin.

The sight made me swear again—damn it, we might be too late! Anger and grim determination flared in me.

No—she must not die. I will not allow it! I will not lose her!

Quickly, I took her arm in my hands, fit my mouth over the bite marks and began to suck.

“What…what are you doing?” Gwendolyn asked uncertainly as the bitter, chalky taste of the venom rushed over my tongue.

I pulled back and spat in the sink. The inky venom was black as sin but I hadn’t gotten it all—I still saw traces of it under her skin.

“Removing the poison,” I said briefly and went back to her arm again. She moaned softly but didn’t try to fight me as I sucked and spat and sucked and spat again.

Finally her blood tasted pure and clean. I spat once more and rinsed my mouth, ridding myself of the last of the venom.

Straightening up, I examined her forearm under the overhead light. No more black lines ran under her skin but she still appeared weak and only half-awake. Then she started to shiver helplessly.

“Laish,” she whispered in that soft, helpless voice so unlike her usual fearless tone. “So…so cold.”

“Gwendolyn…mon ange…” The nickname fell from my lips. My angel…my dear one. I took her hands in mine—they were cold to touch. The venom might be gone but the aftereffects could still kill her.

Luckily, the bath she had drawn was just what we needed.

Stripping off my suit jacket and shirt and toeing off my shoes, I lifted my little witch gently into my arms. The bottom of the suit would be ruined but that was too bad—I didn’t think Gwendolyn would be comfortable with me bare in the tub with her. And besides, I could always get another pair of trousers.

Gwendolyn was shivering continuously by now, shaking in my arms, her teeth chattering.

“Gently, mon ange,” I murmured, hearing the worried tone in my own voice but unable to help it. “Come, we’ll get you warmed.”

I climbed the steps to the raised tub and, still holding her in my arms, stepped into the steaming water.

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

I didn’t understand what Laish was doing or why he was doing it. I only knew I was cold—so horribly cold and the freezing sensation was coming from inside me. It was almost as though someone had frozen my heart and the ensuing wave of bitter cold was working its way outward, coating the rest of my body in frost.

Then, holding me gently, Laish settled us both in the huge marble tub even though he was still half dressed. Why was he doing that, I wondered hazily. Didn’t he think I was capable of taking a bath on my own? I tried to ask him but my teeth were chattering too badly.

“Just relax, Gwendolyn,” he murmured in my ear, cradling me in his arms as the hot water lapped around us. “Relax and let the warmth penetrate you.”

I tried to do as he said though my first instinct was to ball up and try to keep myself warm. But soon I found that the hot water around me was doing its job—warmth began to creep back into my body and my shivering stopped, leaving nothing but weariness.

I sighed and let myself go limp, relaxing against the broad, bare chest behind me. Though I had sworn to try and keep my distance earlier, now I was very glad Laish was with me. I felt so weak I wasn’t certain I could have kept my head above water in the deep tub. He must have known that because he held me gently but firmly against him, keeping me safe as he waited for the heated water to heal me.

“Gwendolyn,” he murmured in my ear after a while. “What happened? Tell me everything.”

Should I? Somehow I didn’t feel like I could lie to him—not when we were pressed so closely together with his arms around me.

Hesitantly, I told him, starting with the knock on the door and how I had looked out the peephole and seen the innocent looking little cherub boy. I didn’t tell him about how the little blond boy had brought back my shoe—in retrospect believing that he had gone to get it back for me out of the goodness of his little heart made me seem even stupider than I already was. Instead, I told Laish, truthfully enough, how hungry the devilkin child had looked.

“I didn’t think it could hurt to open the door to him,” I said. “He looked so hungry and I thought I could give him a sandwich—give him a lot of them to take back to the other kids.”

He sighed, his broad chest moving against my back.

“And so you opened the door out of compassion. Wanting to feed him, not knowing that what he hungered for was your flesh.”

“How could I know?” I asked, a little defensively. “I mean, I know you told me that their appetites might surprise me but I just thought you meant they would eat anything because food was so scarce. You could have been a little more specific.”

“Yes, I should have,” he agreed with me, to my surprise. “But I didn’t want to frighten you, mon petit chat.”

“I’m not your little cat,” I said in irritation. “And you should have told me. I thought you were just being a bastard when you said we should ignore them.”

“Should I tell you then, every time we are near someone or something that can kill you?” He turned me around so that I was facing him, still wrapped in his arms. “Should I explain in detail exactly how each threat wishes to maim, devour, or despoil you? How they all desire to drink your blood, violate your body, or steal your soul?”

He was looking at me earnestly, honestly seeking an answer to his question. He really wanted to know if I cared to have the dirty details of exactly what or who wanted to kill or rape me and how they planned to do it everywhere we went. Except we were in Hell which meant at any given time just about anyone we met would be wanting to do those things.

I felt like my eyes had been opened by the devilkin incident. It was like being in a room full of people you know aren’t very nice but don’t think are awful. Then you suddenly find out that every single one of them is a serial killer and they all have a knife with your name on it. Horrible.

As the realization sank in, I felt sick to my stomach.

“No,” I whispered at last. “No, I guess not.”

“You’re in danger every minute, mon ange,” he murmured, stroking my cheek lightly with the back of his hand. “I thought you would be safe in the room but I underestimated Druaga’s determination to get to you. Forgive me.”

“I’m the one who ought to be asking forgiveness, I guess,” I said, trying to look away from that steady, ruby red gaze and failing. “I should have listened to you. I should have known you wouldn’t tell me not to open the door to anyone without good reason.”

“That is correct but I think you may have learned your lesson.” He cupped my cheek. “From now on remember—you are only safe when I am with you. I will try not to leave you alone again but if it is ever necessary, you must trust no one.”

“All right,” I whispered, my mouth feeling dry. “I believe you. I mean, really believe you now, Laish. I…don’t think I really got it before.”

“I am glad you ‘get it’ now,” he murmured. “Are you feeling better?”

I realized that I was. And then I further realized that I was sitting naked, except for my soaking wet panties, on his lap in the huge marble tub. I had felt too sick and weak for the situation to seem sexual before. But now, sitting as we were with my legs straddling his lean hips and my bare breasts almost brushing his broad chest, I began to feel warm all over for a reason that had nothing at all to do with the hot water surrounding us.

“I’m fine now,” I said, trying to make my voice sound normal. “A lot better—really.”

“Good,” he murmured and those burning ruby eyes of his were suddenly half-lidded with desire. “Because I think it’s time to get out of the tub and dry off now, Gwendolyn. And then it’s time to pay the tax.”

“The Sin Tax you mean?” My voice was much higher than I liked. “I mean…can’t we wait until tomorrow morning? I just had a near death experience and I’m not exactly feeling very, uh, sexy right now.”

“Is that right? These would seem to tell a different tale.” Cupping my breasts in his big hands, he thumbed my erect nipples, sending a shiver of desire straight from my tender peaks to my pussy.

“Laish!” I protested breathlessly, shifting against him. “Please…you shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t give you pleasure, you mean?” he murmured, lifting me effortlessly so that my breasts were free of the water. “Or shouldn’t take pleasure myself in your beautiful body?”

Before I could answer, he pulled me closer, bringing my breasts to his mouth. I wanted to say something, to tell him to stop—but he was already sucking the tight bud of my right nipple into his mouth, drawing hard on the sensitive peak until bolts of pleasure shot through me, making me gasp and moan.

Laish sucked my nipple long and hard, his eyes never leaving my face as he took as much of my breast into his mouth as he could. I kept thinking I should try to stop him but he had such a firm grip on me and it felt so good. I was mesmerized by the sight of him sucking me—of my berry dark nipple and light brown breast disappearing into his red mouth.

Again I couldn’t help noticing the contrast in our skin tones—the way his lighter tan tones complimented my own creamy café au lait complexion. I have to admit, it was one of the most erotic things I’d ever seen—not that I watch or read much erotica. When you’re not allowed to do the dirty deed yourself, it’s better not to dwell on everyone else doing it.

At last Laish released me.

“Gods, your breasts are sweet, Gwendolyn,” he murmured, nuzzling me with his scratchy cheek. “Tell me, have you ever allowed anyone to suck your nipples before?”

Hesitantly, I shook my head. I’d allowed several boyfriends in high school to touch me there but none of them had put their mouth on me. That seemed too dangerous somehow—too likely to lead to other things.

“Then I am the first.” Leaning forward, he captured my other nipple briefly, giving it a hot, open mouthed kiss that ended with him circling the tight bud with his tongue.

“Laish!” I protested uneasily but my voice was high and breathy and the feel of his hot tongue lapping gently over my nipple was doing strange things to me below the waist.

“I hope to be first with you in many things,” he murmured, looking me in the eyes. “Starting tonight.”

“What are you going to do to me?” I asked in a trembling voice. “I mean…didn’t we already pay the Sin Tax just now when you, uh…?”

“Suckled your sweet nipples? No.” Laish shook his head. “If we had, you would have felt the ripple in the air as you did on the banks of the Styx. No, Gwendolyn, as I told you, a deeper and more serious sin is required to move into each circle of Hell. This time a little sexual pleasure is not enough.” He kissed my nipple again. “Tonight I must make you come.”

“Laish!” I protested again. “I can’t…I’ve never let anyone…”

“I know.” His eyes flashed. “Which is why I am very much looking forward to it. But first we need to get out of the bath and dry off. I want to be able to see your beautiful body spread out before me when I bring you to the peak.”

Fitting his big hands under my thighs and ass, he stood, lifting me easily and stepped out of the bath. He stood me on the cold marble floor and wrapped a big, fluffy white bath towel around me before tending to himself.

I clutched the towel and looked away, blushing furiously as he stripped off the soaked trousers and the black silk boxers he’d been wearing under them. I know it sounds silly and naïve but I’d never seen a naked man before—well, except on a movie screen. But not up close and personal. Grams had warned me early on how once a guy gets naked, things start moving forward whether you want them to or not. So this kind of intimacy was something I had always carefully avoided.

Laish chuckled at my reaction to his nudity, apparently amused at my naiveté. Then he stopped laughing and became suddenly serious.

“Gwendolyn, look at me,” he murmured.

“I don’t want to.” I kept my eyes averted.

“Why do you blush so, mon ange? Am I that frightening to you?”

“I’ve just never…never seen a naked guy in person. Okay?” I said, feeling my cheeks get even hotter.

“You have seen Druaga,” he pointed out.

I knew he was referring to the boar-demon’s massively oversized, totally exposed genitals which, while disgusting, were just too big and weird to seem real. They were more like some kind of bizarre Hentai cartoon you’d accidentally run across on the internet than something you’d expect to see in real life on an actual person.

“That’s different,” I said, still looking away. “He’s a beast—an animal. And his…equipment is so big it’s like some kind of sad, sick joke.”

“His kind are able to grow out their ‘equipment’ as you put it, in the same way you can grow out your hair. I believe what you see as a deformity, Druaga sees as an achievement.” He cocked his head, still looking at me. “But you see me differently than him?”

“Of course,” I said impatiently. “You’re a real person.”

“Do you think so?” His deep voice was strangely distant now, filled with some emotion I couldn’t name. It made me look at him despite myself, though I kept my eyes above his waist.

“Well…yes.” I looked at him uncertainly. “Aren’t you?”

He sighed. “Some would say I am not. You might say so yourself if you saw me in my true form.”

I bit my lip uneasily.

“Is it really that frightening? Are you…do you look like Druaga?”

He gave a harsh, humorless laugh.

“I do have animal forms that I can take but I am not a Wendingo. A demon who is part beast or has beastly characteristics,” he explained, seeing my confused expression. “But neither am I as you see me now.”

“So can you transform at will?”

“Into several different forms—my true form included.”

“Do you…do you want to transform now?” I asked, trying to be brave. “Do you want me to see you in that form—your true form?”

He sighed again.

“For now I would be pleased if you would see me just as I am—in human form. Look at me, Gwendolyn—all of me. And do not be afraid.”

Biting my lip, I allowed my eyes to roam over his naked body. I liked his height and his broad shoulders, his muscular chest and trim hips. He had long, well-muscled legs with just a dusting of black hair on them—he even had nice feet. Then, when I had looked everywhere else, I finally let my eyes settle between his thighs.

“Oh,” I whispered.

He was big—there was no denying it. Even only semi-hard his shaft was thick and long and dangerous looking. But at least it wasn’t so obscenely huge as to be out of proportion to the rest of him, like Druaga’s.

“Well?” he murmured and I realized my gaze had been lingering between his legs just a little too long.

“Um…” I forced myself to meet his eyes, my cheeks burning. “You’re very, uh, naked.”

He gave a soft, rumbling laugh.

“So are you…but for those little wet panties. Which I think we must remove before we go to the bed.”

“What—so we’ll both be naked at the same time?” I shook my head. “Uh-uh, no way. That’s a bad idea.”

“What are you afraid of?” he taunted softly. “That I will be tempted to go too far…or that you will?”

“Either or both,” I said firmly. “Whichever way it doesn’t matter. I’m not getting in bed with you if both of us are completely naked—it’s not safe.”

“Haven’t I just finished explaining to you that nothing here is safe? That you are in danger every moment?” he said, raising an eyebrow at me. “However, if it will make you feel better…”

He reached up and did that neat little trick of his, pulling a pair of long, black silk sleep trousers out of thin air. Stepping into them casually, he pulled them up and tied the silk string across his flat belly. I couldn’t help noticing how he had that little ridge of muscle on either side, starting at the hip bone and going down to his groin—the “V muscle” one of my girlfriends called it. The waistband of the trousers seemed to accentuate it, making him look even hotter dressed than he was naked—if that was possible. Or maybe I just felt more comfortable looking at him now that his “danger zone” as Grams called it, was covered.

“All right, Gwendolyn,” he murmured, giving me a burning look. “I am dressed now—it is time for you to get naked.”

“I…um…” I tried to back away but he was already peeling away my towel and reached for my panties.

“Come, mon ange,” he murmured, hooking his long fingers in the waistband of the fragile silk and lace underwear. “You know I will never hurt you—I wish only to see you and drink in your beauty.”

I didn’t know how I felt about anyone “drinking me in” especially if that someone was Laish. I didn’t exactly hate my body but I wasn’t its biggest fan either. For one thing, I’m way too broad in the hips and thighs. I have a nice round butt—what Grams calls a “caboose” but my breasts are a little too full to be as perky as I’d like.

In general, I guess I have body issues, like any other woman. Even the prettiest, slimmest girls I’ve ever met have them—nobody seems to be really happy with what they’ve got.

It didn’t help that Laish was so supernaturally handsome either. It was like I’d been asked to strip and stand right beside a model and I definitely felt sub-par in comparison.

Still, he was obviously determined to see me completely naked and there didn’t seem to be much I could do about it. Anyway, I told myself. Maybe this will make him leave me alone. Once he sees I don’t look like a supermodel in my birthday suit, maybe he’ll decide I’m not worth bothering with.

So I made myself stand still as Laish knelt before me and slipped the soaked panties down my thighs. I didn’t even try to cover myself when he stood up and looked at me, those ruby eyes raking over my body from top to bottom and back up again.

“Well?” I asked at last, feeling both embarrassed and impatient. It was taking everything I had not to cover my breasts and sex with my hands. I don’t know how nude models do it—it’s hard to stand in front of another person wearing nothing but your skin.

Laish looked up from his leisurely visual tour of my body and met my eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, Gwendolyn,” he said softly. “I wonder if you have any idea how gorgeous you truly are?”

“Laish…” I shifted uneasily and he shook his head.

“No, I can see you do not. Well, let us see if we can remedy that tonight.”

Stooping, he lifted me into his arms again and carried me out of the bathroom. Then, despite my half-hearted protests, he laid me right in the middle of the bed.

Chapter Fifteen

Laish

My little witch truly had no idea of her own beauty. She lay there on the bed blushing and trying to cover herself with her small hands which weren’t quite up to the job. Her full breasts spilled over one arm and though she tried to hide the smooth triangle between her legs, I could see just a hint of her sex peeping out from between her fingers. Her green eyes were wide and uncertain and she was biting her lip in agitation.

“Gwendolyn,” I murmured, climbing onto the bed with her to hold her. “What is it, mon ange? What do you fear?” I asked, taking her in my arms.

“You know what I’m afraid of.” She shifted against me, clearly still not at ease. I wished she could relax as she had when I held her in the tub. Of course then her body had been fighting the aftershock of the devilkin venom and she’d been too preoccupied with feeling ill to worry about my motivations for holding her. Now she was well again and worried—worried that I wouldn’t stop though I had promised her I would. Worried I would demand too much of her.

“You’re afraid I will take more than you are willing to give,” I said, stroking a strand of hair way from her face. “Don’t be, Gwendolyn. I give you my word you will not lose your virginity tonight. In fact, if it would make you feel better, I will promise to keep my sleep trousers on all night.”

That seemed to help her feel a little more relaxed.

“You promise?” she asked, looking at me hopefully.

“I do.” I kissed her cheek gently, savoring the softness of her skin…the warmth of her body…her delicate, feminine aroma. I allowed one hand to cup her shoulder and then move slowly down her side and back, stroking her as I might stroke a cat to make it purr.

Gwendolyn’s heart rate doubled and her breathing became short as I caressed the rounded curve of her luscious ass, but she didn’t exactly purr. Instead she tightened up, shifting away from me some.

“I’m cold,” she announced. “We should get under the covers.”

I shook my head.

“And miss seeing all your lovely brown skin contrasted with the white fur? No, I don’t think so. Besides, I don’t believe you are cold. We just came out of a very warm bath which heated you quite thoroughly.”

“Still, though,” she said stubbornly and shifted against me again. I could see she was nervous—extremely so. I had promised her that I wouldn’t take her virginity tonight so what could still be troubling her?

“Mon ange,” I murmured, cupping her cheek and looking into her lovely green eyes. “What is it? Why are you still so afraid? You know I would never hurt you, do you not?”

“I know.” Her eyes flickered away. “It’s not that.”

“What then?” I asked, stroking her soft skin. “What has you as nervous as a rabbit when the fox is at the door?”

She gave a soft, bubbling laugh.

“Grams would say ‘as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs’ but I guess it’s the same thing.”

“I suppose.” I lifted her chin and took her sweet, luscious mouth in a slow, lingering kiss. She tasted warm and perfect and her lips trembled under mine. I wanted to show her that I would be gentle with her tonight—that I would bring her only pleasure and no pain. Then I looked at her seriously. “But however you phrase it, I need to know why you’re still so worried. Do you fear letting me touch you?”

“Not…exactly.” She looked away evasively, biting her lip.

“Then what is it?” I coaxed. “Come, Gwendolyn tell me. I swear nothing you say could upset or surprise me.”

“Well…it’s just…”

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

I looked up at him uncertainly. For a demon of lust, he was certainly being very sweet and gentle and kind. But could I honestly tell him the real reason I was so embarrassed about him touching me? Well, other than it being a sin and incredibly dangerous territory if I didn’t want to lose half my power, I mean.

“Just tell me,” he murmured again, stroking my cheek with those long, gentle fingers. His ruby eyes burned into mine. “Tell me, mon ange.”

Abruptly, I decided to just let it go—my biggest secret, my hidden shame. It made me feel weird and wrong and different but what the Hell—he wasn’t going to let up until I spilled the beans.

I took a deep breath.

“Remember how you said you had to…wanted to…make me come tonight?”

“Of course.” His eyes were half-lidded with desire. “It will be my very great pleasure to bring you to the peak.”

“Well, it might not be as easy as you think.” I looked down at my hands, suddenly ashamed. “Because, well…I can’t come. Can’t have an orgasm, I mean. At least…at least I never have before and it’s not for lack of trying, either. I just…can’t.”

“Hmm…So you’ve never had an orgasm?” His tone was intrigued, as though I had posed an interesting problem. Well, at least he didn’t sound weirded out or non-plussed as the few—the very few—other people I’d admitted my problem to had.

“No, never.” I plucked up a little courage and looked up at him. “I mean, part of it is probably because I feel like it’s better to just avoid…anything like that. Because when you start thinking about it, you start wanting to do it and pretty soon you’re in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” he asked softly.

“You know what kind. The kind that loses you half your power and cuts your potency as a witch in half. The kind that ruins your life.” I looked down at my fingers, twisting in the white fur coverlet. “I just…don’t want to end up like Keisha.”

“Who is Keisha?” he murmured.

“My little sister.” Then I realized I was telling too much. “Never mind—I don’t want to talk about her.”

“All right. We don’t have to if you’d rather not,” he said. “So you try not to think sexual thoughts or have sexual feelings but even when you allow yourself to reach for pleasure, it eludes you?”

I gave a sad little laugh.

“Ha—that’s a nice way to put it. But yeah, I guess so.” I sighed. “I just can’t…seem to find the right way. I mean, I know that sounds ridiculous—I’m a grown-ass woman—I ought to be able to help myself. But nothing seems to work.”

“And have you spoken to anyone about it?”

I shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

“A few friends who thought I was weird. I mean, it’s awkward to bring that up in the first place and then to admit that I can’t…that I’ve never…” I shook my head. “Anyway, so that didn’t help. Then I took a human sexuality class in college and I finally got up the nerve to ask the professor about it.”

I sighed, remembering the horrible, embarrassed feeling I’d gotten when I finally stammered out my question.

“She was supposed to be this big expert,” I said. “She’d written something like twenty books on sexual expression and female sexuality.”

“And what was her advice to you?” Laish wanted to know.

I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head.

“She said to get a vibrator. Which is what I kept reading everyplace I looked for help too. But I got one.” I vividly remembered how nervous I’d been, smuggling the forbidden sex toy into Gram’s house and hiding it under my mattress.

“And did it help at all?” Laish was being really understanding about this—I couldn’t help thinking that it was easier talking to him about my problem than it had been with any of the friends I’d trusted or the well-credentialed professor.

“It didn’t,” I said, with a sigh. “For one thing I kept thinking every minute that I might get caught with it. And it was so loud—I felt like everyone in a three block radius could hear me…you know, touching myself.”

My cheeks got hot as I said it and I couldn’t look at him anymore.

Laish still didn’t seem a bit perturbed.

“But did the sensations it gave you feel good? Or were you too preoccupied with your concerns about privacy to notice?”

“It was too intense,” I admitted softly. “Too much. I felt like I was being shocked with an electrical charge down there. Like someone put a live wire to my coochie.”

“Not very conducive to pleasure,” he murmured and there was amusement in his voice.

“You’re laughing at me,” I accused him. “This must seem really funny and pathetic to you—a woman my age who can’t help herself…help herself come.” My cheeks went hot saying it but it was the truth and it made me feel sad and defective all over again to admit it.

“On the contrary, mon ange, I do not find your situation funny at all. But I don’t think it’s quite the problem you make it out to be.”

“Not a problem?” I flared at him, feeling irritated. “Of course it’s a problem! I want to have what every other woman in the world has! I want to be able to feel sexual pleasure!”

“Except that you don’t,” he pointed out softly. “You don’t really want to feel it because you fear it—fear it will lead to other things. Such as the loss of your powers…or perhaps the loss of your grandmother’s good opinion.”

His words hit home and I couldn’t deny they were true.

“Maybe,” I mumbled, looking away again.

“Gwendolyn…” He cupped my cheek and turned my face to his so that I had to look at him. “I submit to you that perhaps your problem, as you call it, is more mental than physical.”

“How do you mean?” I asked, frowning.

“Think of it. You fear your sexual feelings because of the way you have been raised. Your sister dared to go against what you were taught with disastrous consequences which reinforced your fear.”

“But I tried,” I said earnestly. “I really tried and it never happened. And I don’t just mean with the vibrator…with…with my fingers too.” I felt like my face was going to catch on fire as I admitted this but I had to say it—had to let him know I’d really tried everything before I finally gave up and decided it was better to live a sexless existence.

“You tried, you say,” Laish mused. “But I’m certain every minute you felt watched…feared someone might walk in and see you doing such a ‘shameful’ thing.”

I nodded reluctantly. “Well, yes I guess.”

His words pretty much summed up every attempt at self-pleasure I’d ever made. It just made me feel so guilty…so dirty and wrong knowing I was doing something that would be frowned on and that could get me into serious trouble.

“And so you put it from your mind…try to forget about it…deny it,” Laish said.

I nodded again.

“Grams always says thinking leads to talking and talking leads to doing and doing leads to trouble,” I murmured. “So I try not to think about it much or…or need it. But sometimes…sometimes I just get so…so…”

“So hungry,” Laish finished for me and there was a soft intensity in his voice that made me look up at him again. His eyes were burning as he stroked my cheek. “There is nothing wrong with allowing yourself a little pleasure now and then, Gwendolyn. But I think it is very hard for you to believe that after the upbringing you have had.”

“Grams brought me up just fine,” I snapped. “She did a great job and it was really hard on her after my mom died.”

“No one disputes that,” Laish murmured. “But let us stop talking about her for a moment. Let us put her from the room, as it were and concentrate on you.”

I bit my lip.

“All right—concentrate all you want. Do whatever you want. But I don’t think anything’s going to come of it.”

He frowned.

“Of course not, if you’re determined it won’t. All I’m asking you, Gwendolyn, is to try and open yourself to the experience…to open yourself to pleasure, just a little bit. Let yourself enjoy touching and being touched…let yourself give in to being close to me.”

He gathered me into his arms again, pulling me close to his big, muscular body. At first I stiffened against him, unsure of what was coming next. But Laish just held me, stroking my back soothingly, until at last, I began to relax.

It really was nice being held in his arms, I reflected as I allowed myself to settle more fully against him. True, it was still embarrassing being naked but it helped that he seemed to like the way I looked so much. Also, I found his warm cinnamon and dark spice sent deliciously soothing. The hard planes of his chest were surprisingly comfortable and despite my nudity and the fact that we were supposed to “sin” together tonight at some point, I felt more at ease with him now than I ever had.

I examined my feelings, wondering why that was. Did I trust him more now, because of the way he had saved me from the devilkin venom? Or was it the way he had held me so gently in the tub and then sucked my nipples, watching my reaction as he pleasured me with his mouth? Remembering that made me feel hot and bothered and I started to push the feeling away…then I stopped.

How often had I done that to myself? How often had I denied my feelings, quenched my desire, hidden my sexual need or pretended it didn’t exist at all? Though a little voice in my head was telling me it was necessary to deny my desire in order to keep me safe, another, stronger voice was saying something else.

It’s not fair. Not fair! Why should every other woman in the world get to have sexual feelings and pleasure and not me? Why—just because I’m a witch? Because that’s what I’ve been taught—to wait until the right man comes along? But what if he never comes? Or what if I’m so used to turning off my sex drive when I finally find him I can’t turn it back on again? What then?

Suddenly I wanted with my entire being to give in to the warm, sexual need I felt pooling in my belly. When Laish’s big, warm hand caressed my shoulder and side and hip, it made me want to press closer to him. When he cupped my ass, I shivered with desire, wanting more…so much more.

“And you can have more, mon ange,” he murmured in my ear, startling me. Had I spoken my wish aloud? Or had he somehow plucked it out of my head?

“Laish?” I whispered uncertainly, looking up at him.

“You can have as much or as little as you like.” He stroked my cheek. “Would you like to have pleasure tonight, Gwendolyn?”

I opened my mouth, not sure what was going to come out. Danger! shouted a little voice in my head but I was tired of listening to that voice.

“Yes,” I heard myself say. “Yes, I want to have pleasure. I want…I want to come.”

“Very well.” He gave me a slow smile. “Then I will help you. Come…let’s begin.”

Chapter Sixteen

Gwendolyn

“First let us get into a better position.”

Laish sat up and propped a pillow against the broad, padded headboard. Then he leaned back against it and patted the space between his spread thighs. “Come, Gwendolyn—sit with me.”

I had no doubts that Laish could help me finally overcome the barrier that stood between me and any kind of personal pleasure. After all, he was a demon of lust—if he couldn’t help me, no one could. So it was with perfect confidence as well as a large dose of embarrassment that I did as he said.

I still felt incredibly bare but I had stopped trying to cover myself—what was the point, after all? He had seen me already and from the way he was still looking at me with half-lidded eyes, it was clear he liked the view. Boldly, I got on my hands and knees and crawled over to him, sinuous as a cat. I was very aware of the way my breasts were hanging down and swaying gently with each motion as well as the way his deep red eyes watched me hungrily.

“Gods, you’re lovely,” he murmured when I finally got settled between his thighs.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to keep saying that,” I said, crossing my legs at the ankles demurely. “I mean, it’s not like I can back out. We have to pay the Sin Tax.”

“I am not complimenting you with any ulterior motive in mind, Gwendolyn,” he said dryly. “I’m simply telling you the truth—a truth you do not yet realize. Someday you’re going to understand how truly beautiful you really are—you’re going to see yourself as I see you. And then there will be no stopping you.”

“Wouldn’t that just be peaches and cream?” I said lightly. “And how exactly do you see me?”

“You’re like a butterfly, poised to spread your wings,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from my face to kiss my cheek. “You mortals…your lives are so short yet in that brief time you shine so brightly. I want to help you spread your wings and fly.”

“All right.” If my voice came out a bit breathless, it was because he was so close and his warm breath felt so good against the side of my vulnerable neck. His broad, muscular chest was against my back and his arms were holding me close, his hands caressing my sides and thighs and breasts. I felt completely surrounded by him, enveloped in sensations. The heat of his big body…his spicy scent…the soft fur of the bedspread rubbing against my bare ass…every pleasure seemed heightened…every touch more intense.

“I want to make you feel good,” Laish murmured in my ear. “Want to touch you and make you come long and hard tonight.”

“You…you do?” I uncrossed my legs and felt my thighs drifting apart. Already I was beginning to anticipate the pleasure he would give me. I knew it was wrong but I wanted it so badly. Wanted to be held in his arms and touched and taken…at least up to a point. My nipples felt tight and achy and between my thighs I was already wet.

“I do,” he growled softly, kissing my neck and plucking gently at my nipples until I moaned and writhed against him. “But first you must learn to touch yourself.”

“I…wait—what?” I turned my head to look at him, wondering if this was some kind of a joke. But the look in his ruby eyes was deadly serious. He really meant this. “I told you, I tried,” I said, frowning at him. “I really did and nothing worked. So can’t you just…you know…do it for me?”

“I could but I won’t.” He gave me a slow smile. “If I did, how would you learn to help yourself in the future?”

“But I tried,” I repeated. The way he was touching me…kissing my neck…caressing my breasts…stroking my nipples…was making me feel incredibly hot and aroused. The thought of trying to touch myself and getting no result was so damn frustrating. Why couldn’t he just keep going?

“You’re going to try again tonight, mon ange,” he murmured sternly. “But this time I’m here to help you. I’ll even get you started…here.”

One large hand slid between my thighs and cupped my bare pussy. He’d done this earlier when we paid the Sin Tax at the river Styx but now there were no panties to get in the way and no one watching. I couldn’t help moaning as I felt my pussy pressing against his palm and the heat of his hand against my most sensitive area.

“Feels good, no?” Laish asked softly.

I nodded. “Y-yes.” I wanted him to do more…to open me and touch me as he had threatened to do earlier. Wanted him to make me come.

But to my great disappointment, he removed his hand.

“Why did you do that?” I asked, feeling frustrated. “It was just beginning to feel good.”

“It can feel just as good with your own hand,” he told me. “Try it, Gwendolyn…cup your hot little pussy in your palm.”

I blushed at his naughty words but did as he said, sliding my hand between my thighs to hold myself as he had done.

“Okay—now what?”

“Now open yourself,” Laish directed in a low, commanding tone. “In fact…I want you to watch.”

He pulled a small square mirror out of the air and propped it up between my thighs. To my mortification, I could see my own hand clearly cupping my pussy.

Touching yourself—you’re touching yourself and it’s dirty. Touching leads to trouble! whispered a judgmental little voice in my head.

Laish seemed to know what was going on inside me.

“It’s not bad or wrong,” he told me softly. “I just want you to see how beautiful you are—all of you.”

“I just…” I withdrew my hand. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Watch, then Gwendolyn. Let me get you started.”

He slid his hands down my hips and let them settle briefly on my inner thighs. I had a moment to think how erotic his light tan skin was against my warm brown and then he was caressing my outer pussy lips, stroking slowly up and down with just his fingertips at first.

“What…what are you doing?” I whispered brokenly. “I thought you were…were going to touch me. Show me how to touch myself.”

“How can I show you when you don’t know what you like yet?” he asked reasonably. “Before I can show you anything, we must find out together what works for you. What makes your soft little pussy hot and wet and ready to come.”

“And how…how are we going to do that?” I whispered, shifting restlessly against him. God, he was driving me crazy and he was barely touching me!

“Through trial and error, mon ange.” He sounded amused and aroused at the same time. “To start with, I assume you enjoy this light touching?” He indicated the way he was lightly stroking just the outside of my pussy, sending shivers of pleasure all through me.

“Y-yes,” I managed to get out. “I do like it—a lot.”

“That’s a good start then. Some women prefer to touch or rub the outer area of their sex for indirect pleasure. Like this…”

Suddenly the heel of his hand replaced his fingers and he pressed hard against my outside pussy lips, giving me pressure just where I wanted it most.

“Oh…Laish…” I half moaned.

“Rub against me, Gwendolyn. You are in charge,” he murmured, still pressing. “Let me know if it feels just right or if you need a more direct touch.”

I let my hips roll, pressing up to meet his hand, feeling the sparks of pleasure building at his firm pressure. Part of me wondered where I had gotten the nerve to act so shamelessly…and part of me wondered why I had waited so long to do something like this—why hadn’t I thought to try it before. Probably because of the massive guilt complex I carried around that had to do with anything sexual. But for right now, I found I was able to leave the guilt behind and just enjoy the pleasure of Laish’s touch. Was that because he was a demon of lust? Or because I really did trust him enough to relax and enjoy myself? I didn’t know—I just didn’t want it to stop.

“Well?” he murmured after a few minutes of pressing me patiently while I rubbed against him.

“It feels good…really good,” I admitted breathlessly. “But it’s not quite…quite what I need. I need something else…something more.”

“A more direct kind of contact then, perhaps.” He pulled the heel of his hand away and stroked my outer pussy lips once more with his fingertips. Then, making sure I was watching in the small, square mirror, he parted me gently, baring my inner folds.

“Oh, God…” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My inner petals were slick and wet with desire and the tight little bump of my clit was peeking out prominently, almost as though it was begging to be touched. But I knew from past experience that was a bad idea. I was too sensitive there…too inhibited.

To my relief, Laish didn’t immediately try to “press the button.” Instead he looked at me, drinking me in as he held me open to expose my secrets.

“Such a soft, lovely little pussy,” he murmured in my ear. “Look how wet you are, Gwendolyn. How ready to receive pleasure.”

“I want to,” I admitted. “I really do…I’m just not sure how. I’m so sensitive there.”

“Some women prefer to touch themselves through fabric or cloth.” Laish sounded thoughtful. “Perhaps I should not have removed your panties after all. But here…”

He made a gesture and suddenly I was wearing a pair of panties that consisted of a few strings and a single small triangle of white silk that barely covered my open pussy.

“Now watch,” he murmured, running one fingertip down the center of my spread cleft. I gasped at the sensation of the smooth silk sliding across my flesh. My pussy was so wet the little white silk triangle was immediately soaked.

“Gods, Gwendolyn,” Laish murmured hoarsely in my ear. “I love the way your soft little pussy gets so wet and hot for me. Love the way I can feel your need growing and see how much you ache for pleasure.”

I could see it too. Much to my embarrassment, the little bump of my clit was clearly visible through the wet panties, still begging to be touched.

But touched in what way? The feeling of the silk, as Laish continued to stroke me through it, was incredibly erotic but I still didn’t feel like the indirect touch would allow the pleasure to build enough to reach any kind of completion.

“I…I like it,” I whispered, writhing against his hand. “But…it’s not quite enough.”

“But touching you directly on your clit would be too much, I am guessing,” he said. “Perhaps we can find a happy medium?”

He made another gesture and the panties disappeared, leaving me bare once more. Bare and spread out with my thighs splayed wide as I watched his hands between my legs, his long fingers spreading open my tender folds.

Goddess! I wanted to writhe with embarrassment all over again. But as embarrassed as I was, I had to admit I didn’t want to stop. Experimenting like this with Laish was getting me incredibly hot. I just wanted to find a way to make it continue…to make it more.

“Now, Gwendolyn.” His deep, soft voice in my ear made me squirm and press back against him. “Let me try something else—are you ready?”

“Y-yes,” I stuttered, wondering what he had in mind.

“Watch and see,” he murmured, making me feel like he was reading my thoughts again.

Lifting his hand, he sucked two long fingers into his mouth, getting them slippery and wet. Then he reached between my legs again and bracketed my swollen clit with them, stroking on either side without actually touching the sensitive bud itself.

“Oh!” The effect on my body was immediate and electric. At his intimate touch, I felt as if a jolt of pleasure had gone straight through me, making my hands clench into fists and my toes curl. Goddess, it felt amazing.

“Is it good?” Laish continued with a slow up and down motion and then switched to circling my clit very gently with just one finger, still not touching it directly. “Does it feel right to you, Gwendolyn?”

“Yes,” I whispered, writhing under his hand. “Yes, so right.”

“Good—then I want you to try it yourself.”

To my intense disappointment, he pulled his hand away, leaving me writhing against nothing.

“Laish!” I protested. “Please, that was really good! I was starting to feel close—I mean, I think I was.”

It was hard to say exactly, since I’d never had an orgasm before. But while he was touching me so gently I’d felt almost like someone was winding a wire or a rubber band tight inside me somewhere. Something told me if only that wire would snap, it would release the building tension and take me with it. As before, I just wanted more.

“Try it yourself,” Laish said, ignoring the imploring looks I was giving him. “Come, mon ange—you can do it. Bring yourself pleasure.”

I wanted to but I wasn’t sure I could. In fact, years of sad experience had told me that I couldn’t. But I wanted to believe that it could be different tonight—that this was possible. Though it was embarrassing, I watched on the mirror as my own slim, brown fingers took the place of his long, tan ones.

For a moment I seemed to hear a little voice telling me how wrong and dirty and shameful what I was about to do was. Then I pushed it ruthlessly aside and began to slide my finger carefully around the swollen bud of my clit, just as Laish had done.

“Ohhhh,” I moaned softly as the pleasure began to build in me again. “Oh, Laish…”

“Do not call on me, mon ange,” he murmured in my ear. “You are bringing yourself this pleasure. You are spreading your soft, hot little pussy open and stroking your inner folds…petting your sweet little cunt and caressing your swollen clit. You are touching yourself.”

His hot words aroused me almost as much as my own fingers. Then he reached around me and cupped my bare breasts. Rolling my tight nipples between his fingers, he made me moan helplessly as I increased my tempo.

I slid my fingers around and around my clit, stroking only the sides, never touching it directly. But I didn’t need to—this was enough—was perfect. It felt so good I could barely breath…so different from every other time I’d ever tried before. I felt more relaxed for one thing—safe in Laish’s arms. Safe and cherished and free…free to let myself feel things I’d been repressing all my life.

“That’s right, Gwendolyn,” he growled softly in my ear and I knew my erotic display was turning him on as well. “That’s right—touch yourself. Stroke your sweet pussy and bring yourself pleasure…make yourself come.”

And for the first time, I really felt like I might. I could feel the pleasure building…feel the wire tightening inside me, ready to snap at any moment. Laish must have felt me tensing against him because he continued to speak in my ear as he rolled my nipples between his fingers.

“Look in the mirror, Gwendolyn,” he murmured. “Look how hot and open you are…see how wet your pussy is…how ready to come. Let the pleasure well up inside you as you let yourself go…you’ve earned it…you deserve it.”

I don’t know if it was his low, sexy voice in my ear, the sight of my own fingers busy between my thighs, or the hot way he was tugging and pinching my nipples but suddenly I couldn’t take any more.

For the first time ever, I felt the wire snap, felt the tension break and release, flooding me with pleasure, overwhelming me with sensation as I finally, finally came.

“Oh…Oh!” I gasped, my back arching helplessly and my toes curling as the pleasure shot through me. It was like being electrocuted but in a good way, if that makes any sense. I know it really doesn’t but it’s the only way I can think to describe it. My heart was thundering in my ears, my pulse was racing as though I had just run a marathon. I felt like I couldn’t get a deep enough breath and yet somehow I had never felt better or more alive in my entire life. It was intense.

And then, for some reason I was crying. Not actually sobbing or anything but my eyes were wet and the breath was hitching in my chest for a different reason.

“Oh,” I moaned, pulling my hand away from my inner thighs and wrapping my arms around myself. “Oh…Goddess.”

“There is no Goddess here, regrettably, mon ange. There is only you and me.”

Laish turned me gently towards him, letting me curl on my side against his chest. He didn’t ask why I was crying or seem upset about it. He just held me to him, stroking my trembling back gently until I somehow got control of myself and sat up.

“I’m sorry about that.” I swiped at my eyes. God, he must think I was so girly and stupid, crying like that just because I’d finally had an orgasm. “I don’t know why I, uh, lost control.”

“You lost control because you lost control. The sexual and emotional are closely linked, mon ange,” he murmured, stroking my wet cheek. “When a need so deep and primal has been building for so many years it is natural to break a little under the strain of it—even when the outcome is what you had hoped for.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “And was it? All you had hoped?”

“It was amazing,” I admitted in a low voice. “I never thought…I mean, you hear about it…read about it…watch it in movies…but nothing compares to the actual experience. The actual pleasure.”

“Pleasure that you gave to yourself,” he reminded me, smiling. “Pleasure you can duplicate again and again…now that you know how.”

“I, uh…” I felt my cheeks heating up. “I sort of want to duplicate it now. I mean, that was amazing but I still want more.”

“Understandable—you have many long, hungry years to make up for.” Laish captured my mouth in a soft, hot kiss. Then he pulled back a little and looked into my eyes. “But this time, you will not be touching yourself,” he murmured.

“What do you mean?” I felt my heart, which had begun to slow to a normal rhythm, begin to pound again.

“I mean that it is my turn, Gwendolyn. My turn to touch you and make you come.”

This time he sat back against the headboard and made me straddle him.

“I want to watch your face when you come, mon ange. Want to see it in your lovely green eyes when you lose control.”

The new position caused my swollen pussy to spread wide for him and he growled softly in approval when he saw how hot and wet I still was. It was both embarrassing and arousing to be face to face with him when he cupped my sex, his long fingers circling expertly around and around my clit as he looked into my eyes.

“It occurs to me that I have not penetrated you yet.” His long fingers stroked teasingly around the entrance to my pussy. “Do you fear to let me touch your maiden barrier?”

“I, uh, don’t have one.” I felt my cheeks getting warm. “I lost it riding a bike when I was a kid.”

“Ah…” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Then there is nothing to stop me from doing this.”

Slowly, two long, strong fingers slid into me. I gasped and then moaned softly as I felt him press against the end of my channel.

In me—he’s actually inside me! a panicked little voice at the back of my head shouted. But the pleasure I felt from his fingers filling me more than overpowered it.

“Laish,” I whispered. “Goddess…”

“As before, there is only me, mon ange.” He sounded amused and aroused at the same time. “Do you like the feeling of my fingers inside you? Inside your soft little cunt?”

As he spoke, he began to stroke gently in and out of me, pressing deep in a way that made me moan and writhe on his lap.

“I…yes,” I admitted, unable to lie. “I know I probably shouldn’t, but I do—it feels so good.”

“It can feel even better, you know,” he murmured, his ruby eyes lazy with lust. “I wonder how you will like having my tongue inside you, when I taste your sweet pussy for the first time?”

“Having your…what…what do you mean?” His words caused a whole new level of tension and fear and lust to open up inside me.

“Do not fear,” Laish murmured. “We will not go so far tonight. But as greater and greater sins are required to move through the Infernal levels, it may soon become necessary.”

“But I don’t know if I want you to…to do that to me,” I protested. “And you shouldn’t have to just to, you know, get us through to the next level.”

“Do not misunderstand me, Gwendolyn.” His eyes blazed. “I do not do these things with you only because of necessity. It will be both a privilege and a pleasure to tease your little pussy to orgasm with my tongue. To taste your sweet juices right from the source.”

“You really want to…to taste me?” It wasn’t like I hadn’t heard of oral sex before—I wasn’t a kid, after all. But I’d gotten the idea from girlfriends that it was something most guys only did out of a sense of obligation. One of my friends in college had summed it up as, “Two quick licks before he sticks.” So it was hard to believe that Laish was really looking forward to it. But the hot, hungry look on his face told me he was telling the truth.

“Most assuredly I want to taste you, mon ange. I can barely wait.”

Holding my eyes with his, he withdrew the fingers he’d been thrusting into me and lifted them to his face. He inhaled deeply at first, as though savoring my scent. Then he slipped them into his mouth, sucking and licking as if trying to get every last drop of my honey.

Guilt and lust burned through me in equal measures.

Oh Goddess, I shouldn’t be watching this…shouldn’t be imagining what it would be like to let him do that to me! But I couldn’t help it—though I knew it was dangerous and wrong, I still wanted it…wanted him. Once more the little voice in the back of my head tried to warn me of danger and once more I pushed it away. I didn’t want to hear it now…I just wanted to concentrate on Laish. To hear what he was telling me and feel what he was doing to me.

I bit my lip as he sucked his fingers clean and slowly withdrew them from his mouth.

“So you really…really like it?”

“I love it. You are delicious, Gwendolyn,” he growled softly. He reached between us and slipped his fingers inside me again for a moment, gathering moisture as I moaned. “See for yourself.” Lifting his hand, he painted my lips with my own juices, sliding his wet fingers over my mouth to make sure my lips were thoroughly coated.

For a moment I was frozen…shocked…not sure what to do. In my wildest dreams and fantasies, I’d never imagined something like this. It seemed so deviant and naughty and yet the gesture also turned me on. It told me he really did like my scent and flavor—enough that he wanted to share it with me and show me how delicious he found my body.

Then he was pulling me towards him.

“Come here.” It was a soft, demanding growl and one big hand reached for me, tangling in my hair and pulling my mouth to his. Laish kissed me deeply, licking the juices from my lips and then feeding them to me, pressing his tongue into my mouth to share my own secret flavor with me.

At the same time, his other hand slipped back between my thighs and I felt his fingers pierce me once more. But this time they were pressing up into me in a slow, hot rhythm, fucking deeply into my open pussy while the broad pad of his thumb circled my aching clit.

With a little moan of pure lust, I felt myself give in to him completely. I kissed him back, sucking his tongue eagerly and pressed down against his hand, trying to catch the tempo he’d created, riding his fingers shamelessly as he fucked up into me.

“That’s right, Gwendolyn,” he murmured, breaking the kiss. “That’s right—give in to me. Give in to your lust and come while I fuck your sweet pussy with my fingers. Come for me—now.”

The pleasure had been building and building inside me again, that internal wire getting tighter and tighter. At the sound of his low command I felt it snap once more and pleasure flooded me for the second time.

“Oh…Oh!” I cried helplessly. My nipples were suddenly so tight they hurt and I could feel my inner muscles spasming around his invading fingers, almost as though I was trying to draw him deeper into me…as though I wanted another part of him inside me, not just his fingers.

For a moment—just a moment—I let myself picture it. Straddling him this way and fitting the broad head of his cock against the entrance to my pussy…sliding down and letting him fill me completely…

Danger! shouted the little voice in my head. Danger—don’t even think about that, Gwendolyn! You’re getting in too deep—this is wrong and you know it!

As if to emphasize the warning, I felt the strange thrumming in the air around us that I had felt on the bank of the Styx. We had paid the Sin Tax and the barrier between us and the next circle of Hell had been removed.

Goddess…I’ve been bad, Been so very, very bad, moaned that guilty little voice. And this time, though I tried, it was much, much harder to ignore.

As soon as my pleasure ebbed a little and I was panting in his arms, Laish murmured in my ear, “Did you feel the barrier give way? I know you did.”

“Yes, I felt it,” I whispered. Then I thought of something. “But why…why didn’t it, uh, give way the first time I came?”

“Because you were touching yourself, bringing yourself pleasure—I had nothing to do with your first orgasm. Well, not much.” He smiled modestly. “Do you know what that means, Gwendolyn?”

“What?” I asked, frowning.

“You now have definitive proof that touching yourself is no sin. You may indulge in it as much as you like without fear or shame.”

I forgot my guilt for a moment and looked at him in wonder.

“Is that why you wanted me to touch myself? Really?”

“That and I wanted you to know you could bring yourself pleasure.” He looked sad for a moment. “I will not always be with you to help you. I imagine after our little quest is said and done you will wish to be rid of me and go back to your mortal existence.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Was he saying he wanted some kind of long term relationship with me? But how could that be?

It can’t, whispered that little voice in my head. He’s a demon, remember? And you can’t form a soul bond with a creature that has no soul.

Laish saved me from the awkward moment by drawing me close to him again and murmuring that we needed to get some sleep.

“Do demons sleep?” I asked, yawning against his chest though I tried not to. Having two mind-blowing orgasms in a row had tired me out more than I would have imagined possible.

“We do not,” he said, dimming the lights with a wave of his hand. “But it will be my great pleasure to hold you while you sleep and to guard your dreams.”

My last thought was that demons are supposed to be creatures of nightmares, not pleasant dreams. But before I could say anything, darkness claimed me and I fell asleep.

Chapter Seventeen

Laish

It was very pleasant to hold my little witch and feel her relax against me in sleep. I savored every moment of it, wishing the night was longer.

She was beginning to trust me, I could tell. If she hadn’t been, she wouldn’t be pressed against me now, pillowing her head on my chest. Not to mention she would not have been able to open up to me and allow me to bring her pleasure and make her come. Gods, she was so innocent in so many ways—so many delicious ways.

I couldn’t help licking my lips for the last traces of her honey and savoring her warm, feminine flavor. Soon I hoped to be tasting her juices right from the source. I could just imagine the pleasure of spreading her thighs wide and going down on her, opening her pussy with my tongue and lapping her hot little cunt until she came all over my face the way she had come all over my fingers.

But that is for another time…another circle, I told myself sternly. I didn’t want to push Gwendolyn too hard or fast. I had only just earned her trust—I didn’t want to frighten her away again.

And what of the end of her quest? What will happen after we succeed in shutting the door and she wants to return to the Mortal Realm? a small voice asked inside me. Will she still want anything to do with a demon? Will you really be able to let her go so easily?

I pushed my doubts away. Of course I would let her go—I had no choice. And as to whether my little witch wanted to continue our relationship, such as it was, only time would tell.

But though I tried to be calm and rational about it, the thought of losing her stabbed my heart like a cruel blade. I wished I knew why she affected me so but I was no closer to figuring it out than I had been before. I only knew that I wanted her—wanted to keep her safe, wanted to cherish and care for her always.

I frowned. Such emotions were foreign to me. Though I did not revel in cruelty and pain as so many of my associates did, neither did I allow myself to indulge in tenderness or caring. Lust was my wheelhouse and I knew from long experience that the more tender emotions did not have to be connected to it in any way.

Yet, when I held Gwendolyn in my arms and brought her to the peak, it wasn’t only her desire that I enjoyed. It was the feeling of her giving herself to me—trusting me. It made me want to pleasure her again and again…to hold her close and never let her go. Holding her stirred emotions in my cold heart I had not felt for an eternity. Not since…

But I did not allow myself to dwell on the past—there was no point in reliving old pains and sorrows. Instead, I decided to simply enjoy holding my little witch while I could. Who knew what the morrow might bring? I had the uneasy feeling that our journey through Hell would not offer many idyllic moments like this one. Best to enjoy it while I could.

The night, as I said, was too short. Before I knew it, a shaft of dull green light that signals morning in Baator was sliding through the windows—it was time to be getting up.

Despite knowing that we ought to be on our way, I wished to hold Gwendolyn just a little longer. To savor the sweet feeling of her lush body pressed against me, relaxed in sleep. But a sharp rapping sounded at the door of the suite, ruining my plans.

The knocking woke Gwendolyn out of a sound sleep. She opened her eyes and seemed to realize all at once that she was naked and pressed against me, her lush body draped over my side. She sat up with a start. “What’s going on? Why am I naked?”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you not remember last night? The pleasure of having your first orgasm…and then your second?”

“Oh, um…” Her cheeks flushed and she ran a hand through her tousled hair. “I guess I forgot.”

I gave her a little smile. “You wound me, ma petit chat. I had hoped the experience would be unforgettable.”

I could tell by the flow of emotions that ran over her face—embarrassment…lust…shame…fear—that she remembered well enough now. I wanted to gather her in my arms and reassure her but I sensed I would not be welcome. Clearly she needed a little time to process what we had done together the night before.

“You’d best get up and take a shower if you want one,” I told her, sliding out of bed myself. “We need to get on the road but before we can, we have that tiresome breakfast with Druaga to get through.”

Her lush mouth twisted into a grimace of distaste.

“Ugh! Do we have to see him again? I mean, I know he saved me from the devilkins but we’re pretty sure he set that up himself, right?”

“Almost one hundred percent certain,” I said grimly. “But as I cannot prove it, we must honor the verbal contract we made. Such agreements are binding in the Infernal Realm.”

“I just don’t want to have to sit through a meal with him leering at me,” Gwendolyn protested, covering her breasts with her arms. “It makes me sick.”

I didn’t like the idea very much myself which was perhaps why the dress I conjured her to wear was considerably less revealing than the red silk one she’d had on the day before. It was lightweight material but it would cover her from neck to ankles and it didn’t cling to her curves the way the red one had.

“Here,” I said, handing it to her.

“What about you?” She gestured at the black silk sleeping trousers I still wore. “When will you get dressed?”

“Now.” I snapped my fingers and immediately I was clothed in a dark grey pinstripe suit with a deep red tie—one of my favorite outfits from the human world.

“How do you do that?” Her eyes widened. “Just make things appear like that?”

“They are things I already own. They are back at my estate in Hades and I am simply calling them to me,” I explained. “I cannot summon things from the human world, however—not while we are here. Thankfully, my resources here are not insubstantial.”

“I guess not.” She frowned at me. “What about those panties you poofed onto me last night?”

“The small white silk ones?” It made my shaft hard just to remember how wet and open her sweet little pussy had looked spread out under the white triangle of silk.

“Yeah, those.” She was glaring at me now. “You expect me to believe you just had those lying around, ready to hand?”

“Exactly. Just as I have a number of clothes ready for you that I can conjure to me at will,” I said mildly. “I prepared thoroughly for this trip, mon ange. Why—did you think I had bought them for another?”

She looked down, still frowning a little.

“The thought crossed my mind.”

“Banish it then,” I told her. “And believe me when I tell you I have thought of no one but you from the first time you summoned me to the mortal plane.”

“Really?” She looked up at me uncertainly.

“Really,” I assured her—it was the absolute truth. My little witch consumed me—I just wished I knew why. “Now, if you’d care to try that gown on—” I began. But at that point the knocking sounded again, louder and more persistent than before.

Gwendolyn’s eyes widened. “That must be him.”

“Get dressed and come out when you’re ready,” I told her. “I will keep him in the living area so you need not fear for your privacy.” I nodded at the dress I’d given her. “And that should cover far more than the red silk gown—you need not worry about him ogling you this time.”

Her face softened. “Thank you, Laish. I appreciate that.”

To my surprise, she stood on her tiptoes and gave me a swift kiss on the cheek. I liked the brush of her soft lips against my skin but even more, I liked the fact that she had kissed me spontaneously, without any coercion. Maybe the trust that had begun to form last night was still growing? I hoped so.

“You are welcome, mon ange.” I cupped her cheek, loving the feel of her skin against my palm. “I do not wish for you to be uncomfortable. And besides,” I added as the knocking sounded again. “I do not like the thought of another male lusting over that which is mine.”

Her eyes widened and then she slapped my chest lightly.

“Laish!”

Smiling, I left her in the bedroom and went to answer the door.

Druaga was standing there, behind a minor demon who was pushing a huge cart covered in flowing white linen. There was a large silver domed platter resting in its center—presumably the breakfast feast he had promised us.

Seeing the tray reminded me that Gwendolyn’s only source of food from the upper realm had been ruined the day before. I had a way to feed her without tying her to the Infernal Realm—which I knew she feared greatly. But I hadn’t had time to talk to her about it or convince her to take food from me. I sighed inwardly. I supposed we would see exactly how much she trusted me…and much sooner than I liked.

“Good morning, Master Laish!” Druaga bustled in importantly. Today he was wearing a tailored burnt umber suit and it seemed he had taken extra care with his tusks—their gold tips shone in the weak green light coming from the windows. His genitals were on display as always, I saw with distaste. Though I am a demon of lust, I find it unseemly to put one’s appetites and desires to the forefront in such a brazen manner. Subtlety is most underrated—both above in the Mortal Realm, and below in Hell.

“Good morning, Druaga,” I said shortly, stepping aside to allow him and his underling to pass. “Let us get this meal over with quickly—I must be on the road again as soon as may be.”

“Of course, of course.” He directed the imp to arrange the breakfast platter on the low table in the living area and then waved him away.

I sat down opposite Druaga and poured myself a small cup of tea. I knew I must eat and drink at least one bite and drink one sip in order to satisfy the terms of our contract. Such were the niceties of Hell.

“And where is your lovely concubine?” Druaga raised one bushy eyebrow at me. “I hope she is feeling well and did not succumb to the devilkin venom?”

“She’s fine, thank you,” I said dryly. “Thanks to your suspiciously quick intervention in the affair she was bitten only once. I was able to rid her of the poison and bring her back to full health.”

The boar-demon snorted.

“I’m so glad to hear she’s feeling well that I will ignore your remark as to my timely help in the manner.”

I simply looked at him and held my peace. I knew what Druaga wanted from Gwendolyn—it was what any demon who got close enough to scent her would want. She had a pure, unblemished human soul—a great delicacy in Hell. But here, at least, it was perfectly safe. Druaga and I had struck the bargain already—I would break bread with him in payment for his intervention in her attack. After this meal, the debt would be paid in full and Gwendolyn and I could move on.

Just then, my little witch came out of the bedroom wearing the long green gown I had given her and looking absolutely lovely. I thought her face had a soft, contented glow—perhaps from her pleasure last night? At any rate, she was a vision to behold and I could scarcely take my eyes away from her.

Druaga too, was looking at her—his small, greedy eyes filled with lust.

“My, my, don’t you look lovely this morning, my dear,” he remarked to Gwendolyn.

“Thank you.”

She gave him a cool smile and came to sit beside me on the couch. I was glad to see that she didn’t put a great deal of distance between us but sat close enough for our thighs to brush. Truly, her trust in me was growing!

“Good morning, mon ange,” I murmured, brushing her temple with a kiss. “As you are here, I do believe we can begin to dine.”

“Of course!” With a flourish, Druaga lifted the large silver dome lid, revealing a steaming array of Earth-type delicacies. I frowned when I saw he had really done his research—almost everything on the platter was from Gwendolyn’s country of origin. How did he know so much about her?

Gwendolyn was looking at the food with wide eyes.

“Wow—look at all this! Pancakes, muffins, bacon, eggs, cinnamon rolls…it all looks amazing!”

“Then you must help yourself!” Druaga started filling a plate eagerly. “Would you care for one pastry or two?” He tried to hand her the overfilled china plate but she shook her head.

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“But you must, my dear,” the boar demon insisted.

Gwendolyn smiled at Druaga graciously, though I could tell the expression was forced.

“Thanks so much for going to all this trouble but I’m afraid if I ate all this I’d get too fat for Laish to want me anymore,” she said lightly. “So I have to pass.”

“As to that,” I said easily, “I will never stop wanting you, mon ange. But I’m sure our host will understand that your dietary requirements do not allow you to eat such heavy, rich fare.”

Druaga frowned mulishly.

“But you must eat at least a bite and take a sip.” He tried to hand her a glass of juice which she declined.

“I’ll just have some of this,” she said, holding up her plastic water bottle with the words Zephyrhills printed on it.

“But she must eat,” Druaga said looking at me. “You know the rules!”

“I’m well aware that we must each take a bite and drink a sip with you while breaking bread,” I said evenly. “But at no time did you specify that what we ate and drank had to be what you provided. I told you last night that Gwendolyn is on a special diet.”

“Very well, she’s drinking her own libation—well and good,” he grumbled. “But she must eat as well—what about that?”

“I will provide for her.”

I took the black handled sacrificial knife I had brought for just such an occasion out of my breast pocket and balanced a thin china plate on one knee. Holding my wrist over the plate, I sliced neatly into the vein running just under the skin. Not much can harm me but in this case the pain was intense. I kept my face impassive, however, as I held my cut wrist over the plate. Three pure ruby-red drops fell onto the plate and resolved themselves into chunks of fruit, fresh bread and soft, crumbly cheese.

I wiped my wrist and the knife with a clean white handkerchief and returned it to my breast pocket. Then I handed the plate to Gwendolyn. She took it but just sat there staring at the contents.

“Laish,” she said at last, looking up at me. “Can I have a word? In private?”

“I’m afraid it’s considered very rude to leave the table before the meal is over,” Druaga snorted before I could reply. “In fact, some might see it as a breach of contract.”

“What?” Gwendolyn looked at me. “Is that true?”

“Regrettably yes.” I leaned closer to her and lowered my voice. “You have concerns about the food I have provided for you?”

“You’re damn right I have concerns.” She also spoke in a low voice but her eyes were flashing green fire. “You know I can’t eat any food from Hell and you know why too.”

“This food is not from Hell,” I explained patiently. “It is from me.”

“Yes, but you’re from Hell—you’re a demon.”

“That is my classification,” I acknowledged. “But it is not truly what I am.” I looked at her intently, holding her eyes with my own. “Do you remember I told you I was not always as you see me now?”

I didn’t want to get into the details with her and not just because Druaga was watching us avidly, doubtless soaking up every detail of our conversation though we were speaking in near whispers. I did not wish to delve too deeply into my past—even with Gwendolyn. That way lay pain—a pain so ancient and yet still so sharp it would cut much deeper than the black handled knife it I let it.

“I remember what you said.” Gwendolyn nodded unwillingly. “I also remember the story of Persephone and the pomegranate seeds. How she had to stay in Hell six months out of the year after only eating six of them.”

“That will not be your fate—I swear it to you, Gwendolyn. Please…” I put my hand on her arm. She tensed but I was marginally heartened when she didn’t actually jerk away. “Please,” I repeated. “Trust me enough to eat a single bite—that is all I ask. It is all that is needed to fulfill our contractual obligation.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Just one bite?”

“Just one,” I assured her.

“Well…” I could see her thinking. She was reasoning to herself that even if I was playing her false, one bite would only mean a single month out of the year spent in Hell. Of course, that is not strictly the way it works, but as I was not lying to her about the fact that the food I offered her was safe, I saw no need to explain further.

“Gwendolyn,” I said, catching her eyes again. “I swear to you now—the food I offer will not damn you or trap you in my realm. I will explain more later but for now, please eat.” Then I waited—would her trust in me be enough? Would she give in and taste the food? I could not help hoping so very much.

“Fine.” At last with a sigh, she took a juicy piece of cantaloupe and popped it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed. “Delicious.” Then she picked out a grape and offered it to me. “You eat too.”

If she thought the food was somehow poisoned, she was incorrect. However, I didn’t mind eating from her hand—if anything, I relished it. Opening my mouth, I allowed her to place the grape between my lips. As I bit down the small fruit burst, filling my mouth with sweet juice. I kept my eyes locked with hers while I chewed. She was every bit as ripe and luscious herself—I looked forward to tasting her juices.

Gwendolyn must have read the desire in my eyes because she looked away quickly.

“There,” she said, her cheeks flushing. “We’ve eaten and we’ve both had a drink.” She nodded at the tea cup beside me which matched the bone china plates. “Now can we go?”

“I don’t see why not,” I remarked. “Our contract here is complete.”

“Perhaps the one you and I made, Lord Laish,” Druaga said, speaking up for the first time in several minutes. “But I am afraid that the contract I have with your lovely little concubine is still outstanding.”

“What?” I rounded on him, glaring. This farce we were playing out with Druaga was trying my patience. “What do you want now? How dare you make a claim on my Gwendolyn?”

He shrugged, the dark orange suit shifting with the motion.

“Do no blame me, Lord Laish. It was not I who initiated the contract—it was your concubine when she accepted the shoe from the devilkin.”

“What?” I demanded again. “What are you speaking of? Her shoe was lost in the crowd at the Great Central Square.”

“And it was recovered and brought into my establishment by the devilkin,” Druaga said with a snort. “He offered it to your concubine who subsequently took it. She was to pay with the human food I believe is called a samm-ich but the payment was not forthcoming. So the debt is still owed.”

With a sinking heart, I looked down and saw that Gwendolyn was, indeed, wearing both of the small black shoes she’d had on yesterday. How could I have missed such a detail?

“It’s a sandwich, you ass.” Gwendolyn’s eyes flashed at Druaga angrily. “And I didn’t give it to him because the little bastard decided he’d rather bite a chunk out of my arm than the PB&J!”

“Also, the shoe was recovered by the devilkin and offered by him—not you,” I pointed out to Druaga. “Therefore if there was any debt—which I do not acknowledge, by the way, it would be owed to the devilkin, not you.”

The boar-headed demon got a stubborn expression on his face.

“The devilkin was in my hotel illegally, trespassing on my premises. It is therefore my right under the law to claim any property he had on him as my own. I claim the shoe which was given to your concubine and I have not been paid for it. I demand compensation!”

“You want the damn shoe?” Gwendolyn slipped the small flat shoe from her foot and hurled it at Druaga’s head. It slapped him in the face, causing him to snort again and shake his gold-tipped tusks. “There, fine—you’ve got it.”

“Most certainly I do not want the shoe—nor can I take it. It was offered to you and you accepted it, my dear,” he remarked, tossing the shoe back at her. “What I want is my rightful payment for the shoe.”

“And what do you calculate that might be?” I could feel the growl building in my throat and the protective fury growing in my body. Only this time, my body didn’t want to retain its human form. Another shape was trying to get out…another creature I kept locked inside me along with all the others. But though it was not human, it was still me, and no less protective of Gwendolyn for all that it was a beast. It was difficult, but I tried to hold it back as I waited for Druaga’s answer.

“What do I want as payment? Why her soul of course—or part of it, anyway.” His eyes gleamed as he produced a long, curving silver straw half as tall as myself. “A soul for a sole—do you see?” He nodded at the little black shoe, which Gwendolyn had declined to pick up, and snorted laughter.

“What? You want to use that on me?” Gwendolyn had gone pale, her eyes wide in disbelief. “How would you even…” She shook her head, clearly unable to finish the question.

“It goes right down your throat, my dear—quite painless, I assure you. Well, if you don’t mind gagging a bit—but any good concubine should be able to control that reflex, wouldn’t you think?” Here he actually had the nerve to wink at her.

Gwendolyn ignored his crude insinuation—or maybe she was still just too horrified to grasp it.

“And then you what—suck it out?”

“Oh, not right away. First you must catch it. The soul—especially in a living, undamned human—is quiet a slippery little fellow. That’s where this attachment comes in handy.”

Druaga pressed a button at the top of the curving silver straw and a wickedly sharp hook popped out of the bottom. There was a gleaming silver barb at its tip that was almost as long as the blade of my sacrificial knife.

“Oh my God.” Gwendolyn was shrinking back against the white leather couch, her eyes growing bigger and bigger.

“You see once you hook it, you can carve off a little piece or two and suck them right up through the straw,” Druaga explained, grinning nastily at her. “And the soul does regenerate, you know.” He leered at her, leaning forward and gesturing with the silver instrument. “So you can stand to give your old friend Druaga a little taste. Right?”

“No!” Gwendolyn looked at me. “Laish, you’re not going to let him…let him do that to me? Are you?”

I do not often lose my temper but this was beyond the pale. At the sight of the cruel, wicked-looking soul-hook in Druaga’s hairy hands and the terrified look on Gwendolyn’s face, my protective wrath rose too fast to control it. I could feel my anger overflowing at what he was suggesting, bubbling up like a pot of oil with no lid over a raging fire.

“You…dare,” I roared and I felt myself lose my carefully kept human form, shedding it like a snake sheds it skin in favor of something larger, stronger and much more deadly. My immaculate suit split and then ripped completely asunder, lost in the change. “You dare to suggest that I allow you to take part of Gwendolyn’s soul?”

For the first time, Druaga looked somewhat discomforted. Clearly he’d had no idea I would react this way. I have a reputation for coldness in the face of conflict—a fact which had made me all but undefeatable during the Celestial Wars. But this time I could not stop the wrath that rose in me—nor did I wish to.

“Well, I am owed some compensation, after all,” he muttered.

“For sending the devilkins out to get my concubine’s shoe, then allowing them into your hotel to trick and attack her?” I roared. “How dare you even claim such a thing? You put her life in danger and then you think to take part of her soul right in front of me? I should kill you where you sit!”

I was towering over him now, my breath hot in my chest, my voice a menacing bass rumble.

“You don’t dare!” But there was a trembling in the Wendingo’s voice that said he didn’t believe what he was saying. “The Demon Council would—”

“The Council would say I have every right! You have offered me insult heaped upon injury.”

I moved towards him, my coils sliding, the scales rustling against each other. I knocked aside the forgotten breakfast tray with a contemptuous flick of my tail. There was a metallic clang and its contents spattered everywhere. I paid not the slightest notice.

“Please, Lord Laish, calm yourself,” Druaga begged. “I don’t understand why you are so upset! She is just a human!”

“She is my human!”

Within I was a furnace of rage. I wanted to breathe a wave of fire over the cowering boar-demon, wanted to roast him to a crisp but something held me back—the fear that the fire might get out of control and hurt Gwendolyn. So I held back…but only just.

“I am your host!” Druaga squealed, cowering in his white leather chair. He was sounding more like a boar every moment. “You dare not kill me! The laws of hospitality—”

“Laws of hospitality be damned,” I snarled, liquid fire dripping from my jaws. I was standing directly over him at this point and a large drop of it fell upon him, singing away his right tusk. He squealed again, his hand going to the smoking stump.

“My tusk!”

“You’re lucky I don’t rip an arm or a leg off…or perhaps something else.” I eyed his exposed genitals with burning disgust. “In fact, I think I’ll castrate you here and now—maybe that will teach you a lesson about lusting after the property of others.”

Druaga gasped and scrambled backwards, trying to get over the back of the chair without taking his eyes off me. But in this form I was as quick as a striking snake. I aimed a carefully controlled column of flame at his disgusting shaft, crisping it to a shriveled, charcoal black stump. It looked like a sausage that has been forgotten in the fire.

The boar-demon gave a high, whining shriek that hurt my sensitive ears as he groped between his legs, writhing in pain.

“No! No! Ah, the pain!”

“Why are you so upset, Druaga?” I growled, glaring at him. “You are a demon, after all. It will regenerate, much like Gwendolyn’s soul would have, had you carried out your plan.”

“But it will not be so long again for years. I have been growing it for millennia. And my tusk…” He patted the right side of his hairy face. “It is gone forever.”

“The rest of you will be too if you do not leave my rooms now,” I snarled at him. “Go before I decide to erase your miserable existence from the face of the Infernal landscape.”

Whimpering with pain, Druaga managed to scramble up and hobble towards the door. He was still clutching himself, alternating between grabbing his face and his mutilated crotch when he made it through the doorway and was gone.

“Oh…oh my Goddess.”

The soft, broken murmur brought me out of the all consuming rage I’d been in and I scanned the room, my eyes reading heat signatures as well as visual cues. The form I was in was a very useful one to have—though it was somewhat large and bulky, especially in such a confined space.

At last I found what I was looking for—the source of the voice.

Gwendolyn was huddled in the far corner of the room, shielding herself behind one of the large white leather cushions from the sofa. She was trembling and tears were leaking from the corners of her eyes. With my current vision they looked like white rivulets on her red cheeks.

“Gwendolyn?” My voice was harsh as I slithered towards her but I attempted to soften it a bit.

“Get away! Stay away from me!” Her words were sharp—panicked. I thought she must be afraid that Druaga was still in the room, menacing her with the soul-hook.

“You have nothing to fear—he is gone. He will not harm you.” Gently but firmly I pulled the white cushion from her trembling grip with my clawed hands. “It’s all right,” I repeated. “You’re safe now.”

But she only balled herself up tight, withdrawing as far into the corner as she could.

“Please, Laish.” Her voice trembled and every line of her body spoke of extreme terror. “Please, don’t hurt me. Don’t burn me—please!”

And then I understood…it wasn’t Druaga she was frightened of.

It was me.

Chapter Eighteen

Gwendolyn

I was scared to death he was going to kill me. Maybe not on purpose but it wouldn’t matter because I would be just as dead even if it was an accident. He had pried my only shield away from me—not that the white cushion would have stopped a jet of flame. But still, I felt better with it between me and the beast he had become—between me and the fire.

Inside my head that awful night ran over and over—screaming and crying for my mother as Keisha and I clutched each other panicky-tight, the two of us crammed into a tiny closet—the place we’d been hiding when it started… hearing the crackling sound as the flames licked at the door…the overwhelming heat…the choking black smoke that had rolled through the house…the smell of burning flesh and the sound of her begging. And then, just as the firemen smashed the window and came in to get us, my mother’s high, piercing shrieks as she died in the fire.

The fire set by a demon.

“Gwendolyn…please,” I heard him growl in that deep, inhuman voice. “Please believe me—I would never harm you.”

The fire…the fire is coming…the fire is going to get you. Oh, Mamma, I’m scared! Please, I’m so scared…

“Please,” that low, rough voice said again. “You can come out of the corner—it’s perfectly safe.”

His words tugged at me, pulling me back to reality. I opened my eyes and realized I was still curled into a trembling ball like a scared little girl who’s afraid of the monsters under her bed. But damn it—this monster was real. This monster was the man I’d allowed to touch me and kiss me and stroke me last night—the man I’d allowed to make me come.

I felt sick at the thought. I forced myself to stand up, still hugging the wall. But I could barely make myself look at what Laish had transformed into.

The beast was huge—a cross between a snake and a dragon with a scaly black hide—each scale outlined in golden-red as though its inner furnace was glowing through. It had a long, pointed snout filled with steak-knife teeth and pure black eyes with ruby slits for pupils. When it moved its long, sinuous body coiled and uncoiled restlessly and its tail was twice as long as I was tall.

It didn’t look like it ought to fit into the luxury suite. It looked like it would fit better into one of my nightmares and it exuded a breathless heat I remembered all too well from the night my mother died. Standing near it was like standing on the inside of the closet door, listening to her scream all over again. The arid air around it seemed to singe my lungs and the scent of smoke and brimstone invaded my sinuses, making my eyes tear.

“Please,” I begged it, unable to make myself leave the corner. “Please—can’t you change back? If…if you are still Laish in there.”

“Of course I am.” The thing’s voice was deep and harsh. Its breath smelled like liquid metal and burning rock and death. “But it would not be safe.”

“What? Why not?” I demanded weakly. Right now I couldn’t imagine anything more dangerous than the huge, frightening thing he had become. He was freaking terrifying, with liquid fire dripping from his slavering jaws and that muscular, snaky black tail. And how could he even still talk with those steak knives for teeth?

“Druaga will want revenge,” he said or rather hissed. “I am better equipped to defend you in this form than almost any other.”

“You’re also better equipped to burn me to a crisp if you get a tickle in your nose and sneeze.” I gestured at his flaring nostrils which looked ready to breathe fire at any time.

“I am sorry you fear me in this form—I did not mean to frighten you. But I must remain so at least until we have crossed the border into the next circle of Hell.”

“Then let’s go.” I forced myself to straighten up and wipe my face—not that I needed to. The heat from his scaly body had completely dried my tears. “Let’s get Kurex and get out of here!” I said, trying to make my voice strong. Trying not to look at him.

“We cannot bring him with us—he is in the stables which are guarded by a hoard of demons.”

“I won’t leave him!” I said stubbornly. “You said Druaga will want revenge—you can’t let him take it out on poor Kurex just because he’s pissed off at you.”

“If we go, I will have to kill many of them. Do you wish to witness that?”

His words gave me pause. Could I deal with more carnage? Watching what he’d done to Druaga had been bad enough…But think what they’d do to Kurex! And he’s just an animal—he doesn’t know what’s going on! He’s innocent…helpless…

I couldn’t leave him. The big horse had found a place in my heart and besides, I could imagine the horrible things Druaga would want to do to him. I remembered the soul hook and shivered—that was something the boar-demon had considered no big deal. How much more brutal would he be if he was looking for revenge and wanted to hurt someone?

“Well?” Laish’s long, forked tongue came out on the word, making me flinch back.

“No, I don’t want to see it,” I said. “But…if it’s the only way to save Kurex, then do it. Go—I’m right behind you.” I didn’t want to be ahead of him. What if he got a tickle in his nose and sneezed as I had mentioned earlier? I’d seen the way he’d singed Druaga’s man-candy to a crispy critter—I didn’t want that burning jet of flame applied to me.

Those ruby slits that his eyes had become stared at me, as if judging my character or my willingness to go on. I lifted my chin and met his gaze as best I could.

Now that I knew he wasn’t going to intentionally burn me to a crisp, I felt a little less hysterical and weepy. But the past was still playing in my head—the memory of how my mother had died on a constant loop behind my eyes. I didn’t want to get too close to him—ever again.

“Very well,” he said at last. “But stay as near me as you can stand.”

Then he left, his long, sinuous body flowing out the door though I wondered how he could even fit through it. He did manage, however, leaving me to follow his forked and scaly tail like a black ribbon left behind to guide my way.

From the time we left the luxury suite until the time we stepped across the threshold to Minauros, the third circle of Hell, is kind of a blur in my mind. Which is fine with me—I don’t want a clear image of that nightmarish flight.

I have vague memories of scrambling along behind Laish, trying to stay out of the way of his whipping tail. We caught most of the demon guards at the stable slash parking lot unprepared. I guess Druaga hadn’t had time to mobilize them yet, what with being preoccupied by having his junk burned off, so we were able to get to Kurex with minimal muss and fuss. And by that I mean Laish only had to burn ten or twelve of them to a flaming crisp.

Each time a blast of white-hot fire left his mouth, I flinched and felt myself back in that stuffy little closet, screaming and crying for my mother who would never hold me again. Every time I saw a demon go up in a screeching pillar of flame I thought of her, how she had writhed in agony, outlined by fire while the demon laughed…

I tried to push the old memory away. For years I’d succeeded in burying it completely and it only came out now once in a great while when I was under a lot of stress and had a nightmare. But now it was out, front and center and I couldn’t banish it again.

The only thing that saved me from breaking down completely was Kurex. I had thought the sight of Laish as a huge, ravening dragon-snake beast many times bigger than himself would frighten the big horse to death. But he looked at Laish in his beast form and didn’t even snort—it was almost as though he was used to such sights.

Well, he was a Demon-steed so I supposed it wasn’t that surprising. But still, the fact that the big horse wasn’t freaking out or panicking helped me to be calm too. I somehow managed to saddle him, with the aid of a step stool and Laish’s commands, though the huge black leather saddle weighed a ton. Then I swung aboard and Kurex followed Laish quietly out of the underground stables where demons were shrieking and running everywhere by now.

Laish turned once before we left and said something in that harsh language—not to me but to Kurex. The big horse’s ears swiveled and he snorted and pawed the ground. Laish looked at me.

“Cling tight to Kurex’s back—he will not let you fall. Now we must flee for our lives—or yours at least, Gwendolyn. Come!”

We went through a kind of maze—up hallways and down passages that twisted and turned, always following Laish who seemed to know the way without a doubt, for he never hesitated once. There was a hoard of shrieking demons after us by the time we reached a doorway I thought must lead to a vast elevator. It was huge—as big as the front entrance in the lobby had been—but with sliding, shiny bronze doors that reflected our images back to us.

Laish whipped his snakey neck around and sprayed the demons crowding behind us with liquid fire. The napalm type stuff stuck to them and spread, eating through skin and muscle and burning down to their black bones. The scent of their burning flesh rose to my nose, making me cough and wretch miserably. I put my face down to Kurex’s neck and breathed through his mane, trying to filter the awful smell out of the air. The big horse stamped restlessly and turned his head around, brushing my shoulder gently with his nose.

“All right, boy—we’re going to be all right,” I whispered to him. But I wasn’t sure if I was trying to reassure him or myself.

“This is the gateway,” Laish hissed at me. “Push the button—open it while I hold them off. Hurry—soon there will be too many!”

I looked where he was pointing with his clawed and scaly hand. There was a single gold button at the side of the door. Reaching out with a trembling finger, I managed to push it and the doors slid open just in time. But instead of showing an empty elevator, the scene revealed was that of a dessert.

A vast, arid waste of shifting sands and distant dunes greeted my gaze. A blinding white sun was in the sky, beating down fiercely, making spots behind my eyes at once. In the distance I saw a pitch black pyramid rising towards the sky and crawling towards it was either a monster or the biggest scorpion I had ever seen in my life.

“What the—?” I began, half sitting up and pointing at the monster scorpion. But Laish was right behind me, still breathing flame.

“Go—go!” he growled in his deep, harsh voice. He slapped Kurex on the rump and for the first time, the big horse reacted as I’d thought he would. With a sharp, terrified whiney, he plunged forward, leaving the basement of the Hotel Infernal and taking us into the next level of Hell.

Chapter Nineteen

Laish

I turned back into my regular human form as soon as I could—as soon as I was certain that none of Druaga’s minions were following us. The denizens of one circle are generally unable to cross to another. Of course, there are a few notable exceptions such as myself and the tenacious HellSpawn I was certain was still following Gwendolyn’s scent.

I had felt something as we left the second circle and entered the third—nothing of great consequence but it still gave me pause. It was a vague sensation that we were not alone. That more than just Gwendolyn and Kurex and myself had passed through into the next circle. I looked carefully to be certain the HellSpawn had not crossed the barrier with us. This would have been the perfect time to attack—when we were disorganized and on the run. To my relief, I saw nothing.

But my relief was short lived. When I looked back at Gwendolyn, she was clinging to Kurex as though her life depended on it and watching me with wide, haunted eyes. Inwardly, I sighed. I hated that she’d had to see so much carnage—especially with me as the cause of it. My dragon form seemed to have bothered her much more than I had thought it would. Not that I am pleasant to look at in that form—I am not meant to be. I cultivated it to strike fear in the hearts of enemies and inflict maximum casualties during battle. It had gotten us safely into Minauros, the Great Desert, but it also seemed to have cost me the trust I had so recently earned from my little witch.

“Are you well?” I asked her as I snapped my fingers and clothed myself in lightweight attire appropriate for dessert travel. “Are you hurt anywhere? Burned?”

She shook her head, not saying a word. I tried again.

“Do you still have your water bottle?” I hoped that she did. A mortal cannot cross the vast tract of Minauros—even the narrow area we were going to traverse—without proper protection and hydration. They are simply not strong enough to withstand the unending heat and aridity. I could, of course, make something for her to drink. I had lost my sacrificial knife when I changed forms but I could call another to me easily enough. However, I foresaw that getting her to accept anything like food or drink from my hand in the near future would be extremely difficult.

To my relief, she nodded again and patted the brown leather satchel she’d brought with her. I blessed her presence of mind in taking it when we were leaving Baator. Now at least I didn’t have to worry about her dying of thirst. Getting her to take nourishment was something else but I decided to worry about it later, after we had put some distance between us and the barrier between the circles. Druaga probably wouldn’t be up to following us himself but he might find someone who could. I wanted to be far away with our tracks lost in the shifting dunes by the time he did so.

I conjured a lightweight, white cloth for Gwendolyn and tried to hand it to her.

“Here. Throw this over your head and shoulders. It will deflect some of the sunlight.”

She shook her head.

“I don’t want it,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“Fine.” I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly, though my heart was sore at her refusal. “Burn then, for all I care.”

She flinched but rallied enough to shake her head.

“I have kind of a natural tan—or didn’t you notice?”

“Your skin is flawless as I have seen for myself firsthand,” I said, taking Kurex’s bridle and beginning to lead him across the sand. “But despite your lovely creamy brown tone, you will burn in Minauros without protection. Everything burns here.”

“Stop saying that—stop talking about burning.” She leaned down from the horse and snatched the wrap from me. Throwing it over her head and shoulders, she looked straight ahead. Well, at least she was protected from the sun. The wrap was one I’d had made for her especially to withstand the Desert of Death as Minauros is often called.

We walked in silence for a long time, Gwendolyn occasionally sipping from her water bottle and Kurex plodding patiently under the blazing sun. There was a hand-shaped mark—a white spot on his black haunch that showed the clear outline of a palm and fingers where I had slapped him. I was sorry for that—though he was a dumb beast he had more than proven his worth. Gwendolyn could not have ridden safely on my back as she could on his, as we ran through the maze beneath the Hotel Infernal to the barrier. My skin is much too hot when I am a dragon—or a wyrm as the ancient texts call it.

At last, after an hour of the plodding pace, she spoke.

“You didn’t tell me you were a fire demon.” Her voice was soft but filled with tension though she still looked straight ahead into the shifting sands and not at me as she spoke. “You said you were a demon of lust.”

“And so I am,” I answered, wondering again why this distinction was important to her. “I am a demon of fire by nature—I can bend it to my will and it is a part of me—will always be a part of me.”

That was because when I was first cast down and out of the heavenly realm I had landed in the Lake of Fire and it had infused me with its power. But I saw no need to tell her the details.

“My skill is lust—my area of expertise, you may say,” I continued. “So you see, I am both.”

“You didn’t tell me that when I first called you.” She looked back at me briefly. “You should have told me.”

“Why?” I frowned at her, wondering at the pain and fear in her eyes. Of course, the things I’d had to do to get us out of the Hotel Infernal and into the third circle were not pleasant but they had been necessary and for her benefit. But she was evasive.

“You just…should have told me. I would have sent you back.”

“You lost that ability the moment I first laid eyes on you, mon ange,” I murmured. “I could not have turned away from you for any reason from the first sight I had of you.”

“Don’t call me that.” She looked away again. “No more nicknames—no more anything. Let’s just…just go. Just get there and close the door. I just want to get home.”

“I am deeply sorry that my other form frightened you so much,” I said, tugging on Kurex’s bridle to move him past a sand pit—they were everywhere in the shifting dunes of Minauros. Some led to pits lined with stakes and damned souls being slowly impaled for all eternity—others to tributaries of the River of Fire which fed the Lake where I had had my second baptism and emerged forever changed. “But I could not help what I became. It was instinct to take the most threatening form I possessed when I felt you were threatened.”

“But he couldn’t have really sucked out my soul, could he?” she asked, casting a sidelong glance at me. “I mean…you wouldn’t have let him. You could have beaten him in your regular form—didn’t you say you could flay people alive with a word?”

“I did and I can.” I nodded.

“So why turn into that…that beast?” she demanded. “Why start spraying fire and brimstone everywhere? And…and burning everything and everyone?”

“I was enraged at Druaga’s suggestion that he be allowed to sample your soul. In my rage, I lost control and became what you saw,” I admitted.

“You lost control?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “But you never lose control. You’re always calm and collected. In fact, the only time I’ve ever seen you really upset before this was when you came over and told me off for opening that doorway into the Abyss in the first place.”

“I was upset then because I perceived you were in danger. I became upset this morning for the same reason. And…” I hesitated. “I was also incensed at the insult Druaga offered you.”

“Insult?” She frowned.

“The taking of a soul or part of a soul is a very…intimate thing,” I said. “Even sexual.”

“Ugh!” She shivered. “And I thought that hook thing he was waving at me was bad! But now you’re saying Druaga asking to, uh, sample my soul was like asking me for a handjob right in front of you?”

“Essentially,” I said tightly. “Although your example perhaps does not go far enough.”

“But what would make him bold enough to even ask that?” Gwendolyn mused. “I mean, aren’t you way above him in the hierarchy or caste system or whatever it is you have going on here? Wouldn’t it be like the office manager asking to sleep with the CEO’s wife? Not that I’m your wife or anything,” she added hurriedly.

“I understand your meaning.” I nodded. “And to answer, I believe that his greed for the sweet taste of innocence is what overcame his better judgment. Druaga has always lusted for it—I have even heard him brag that he managed to snare one of the lesser angels out of Heaven and bind it to him somehow—although I’m certain that was just a lie on his part.”

“How awful for the poor thing if that was true!” Gwendolyn shivered. “To go from living in light and beauty to having to be with him.”

“Yes, moving from Heaven to Hell can be quite a shock,” I murmured. “And with it the loss of innocence and purity.” I sighed. “Doubtless it was your purity and his greed for it that made Druaga bold enough to try and get a taste of your soul.”

“My purity? Could he sense that I was…you know, that I’ve never had sex?” Her cheeks flushed.

“I think not,” I said shortly. “When I say purity I am referring to the state of your soul—the fact that it is not stained with sin. Any demon will be able to sense that—they will smell it if they get close enough to scent you.”

“He was certainly close enough after he chased off the devilkins.” She shivered. “He kept trying to put his big hairy hands on me and saying I needed to get undressed so he could examine me. Disgusting!”

I felt a low growl rise in my throat and Gwendolyn looked at me, clearly alarmed.

“Hey—are you all right? Your eyes look like they’re on fire.” Her voice was frightened and her eyes were wide.

I made an effort to calm myself.

“Forgive me. I had no idea when I interrupted the scene exactly what he was doing. If I had, I might have been angry enough to lose my human form sooner rather than later.”

“Because you want to protect your property.” She gave me a sharp look. “As if I belonged to you or something.”

“One might as well say I belong to you,” I remarked lightly. “I am, after all, your own personal demon whom you called to do your bidding. And here I am, still doing it.”

“Whatever.” She looked away. “I wasn’t trying to call a fire demon.”

I spread my hands. “I cannot help my nature. And why is it so important to you what sort of demon I am, anyway?”

“Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” She looked down at her hands resting lightly on Kurex’s saddle.

“But I do mind, mon ange. Do you now blame me for showing you what I am? Or part of what I am even though we were in danger?”

“We wouldn’t have been in danger if you hadn’t lost your temper,” she reminded me tightly. “But I guess I should’ve known better than to expect anything else from a demon.”

“I am not just a demon,” I said, frowning.

“No—you’re also a huge-ass dragon-snake thing, apparently.” She rounded on me. “Is that what you were talking about? What you didn’t want to show me—your true form?”

“It is not,” I said coldly, letting a little of the irritation I was feeling creep into my voice. “It is simply one of my many guises but it is not the truth of me—the heart of my nature.”

She shivered. “If your true form is worse than that one, I don’t know that I want to see it.”

“Don’t worry, Gwendolyn,” I said softly. “After seeing how you reacted to my dragon form, I would not presume to reveal my true self to you. I do not wish to make you fear or hate me anymore than you already do.”

She looked suddenly stricken.

“It’s not that I hate you—”

“I know. You just don’t like me very much,” I finished, throwing her own words back at her.

It was clear she didn’t know what to say. Her cheeks flushed and she shook her head, looking away.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice. “Sorry I can’t help my reaction to what I saw—what you became.”

“I am sorry too.” I sighed wearily, rubbing my hand over my face. All the hard work of earning her trust had been wasted—shattered in an instant the moment she saw me change. But why? I had told her I had other forms. Was the sight of me in that particular one so horrible? And how would she ever be able to face any of my other forms—especially my true one? I could not answer the question—I was beginning to think there was no answer, that my quest to win her affections was utterly hopeless.

But why should I care? She was only a mortal, I told myself. Only a little human with a life as brief as the butterfly I had compared her with. Why should I wish so desperately for her to care for me? I wished I knew and that I could rip that part out of me but somehow I could not. Even now, I could not.

“Tell me something—why wasn’t Kurex scared of you in that…that form?” Gwendolyn asked, pulling me out of my miserable thoughts. “I mean, I don’t know a lot about horses but I bet it would have scared most of them to death. Is it because he’s from here—because he’s a Hell horse or a Demon-steed or whatever?”

“Kurex was not spooked by my form because he had seen it often during the Celestial wars,” I explained. “I used it when I went into battle—the better to destroy and despoil the enemy.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “But weren’t you the general? I thought they were supposed to stay on the sidelines and just give the orders.”

“I was not that kind of general,” I said. “I always took part in the battle.”

“I see.” Gwendolyn looked away.

“So now you know why Kurex didn’t fear me—tell me why you did. Aside from the obvious,” I said. “Yes, I know it is a terrible and frightening form but there is something else—something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

“I…” She looked away evasively. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s private.”

“Very well,” I said, leading Kurex around another sand pit. “I will let you keep your secret for now. But sooner or later I expect to be told the reason for your extreme distress.” I reached up and took her hand. “Until you tell me what I’ve done wrong, I cannot make it right, Gwendolyn.”

She slipped her hand away from mine quickly.

“Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about this desert. How big is it? And how long are we going to be in it—it’s freaking hot out here.”

“Minauros—the Great Desert or the Desert of Death as some call it, stretches for a thousand leagues in every direction,” I said.

Her eyes widened. “A thousand leagues? How long is a league?”

“A league is three of your miles or four kilometers,” I said.

“What? How are we ever going to get to the other side of it going at this rate?” she demanded motioning down at Kurex who was still clopping slowly along through the sands.

“Easily. We did not appear in at the middle of Minauros when we crossed into this circle. The barrier between it and Baator is only about a day’s journey from the barrier to Stygia, the fourth circle of Hell.”

“Oh…well, then.” Gwendolyn looked vastly relieved. “What’s that like then? More dessert?”

“Hardly. It is the complete opposite of Minauros. Stygia is a frozen waste—as cold as Minauros is hot. The two regions were once ruled over jointly by a pair of Great Demons who loved each other—or what passes for love with our kind. They are Magda, She of the Bloody Hands and Moloch the Inimitable. That’s a tribute to Moloch there.” I nodded at the vast obsidian pyramid that still rose in the distance on our left.

We were a little closer to it now and the workers that toiled on it could be seen—a vast bastion of lost souls presided over by a small army of Minotaurs wielding whips.

“Are they still building it?” asked Gwendolyn, squinting to make out the scene in the blinding sunlight. “In this heat?”

“They must,” I said. “For every night the minions of Magda come to tear it down again…and tear out the hearts of any workers caught too close to it.”

“So I take it they broke up? Magda and Moloch?” Gwendolyn said dryly.

“They did, many millennia ago,” I said. “And their hatred now burns as fiercely as their love once did. They continuously send raiding parties to attack each other through the Jealous Heart.”

“I’m sorry—the what?”

“The Jealous Heart,” I repeated. “It is the passageway between Minauros and Stygia—and it also contains the barrier between the two. The demons of both circles are able to pass back and forth through it because the two realms used to be one.”

“And what kinds of people are punished here?” Gwendolyn sounded interested despite herself.

“Minauros is for rapists and Stygia is for murderers—specifically those who killed in cold blood,” I told her. “They are punished in many ways which I will not go into now…unless you wish me to?”

“No. No, please don’t.” She shook her head quickly. “I don’t want to know any more.”

“Oh? I thought you might like to know the eventual fate of the one you were plotting revenge upon.” I could see by her wide eyes that she’d forgotten I knew about the vengeance spell she planned to cast. “Tell me Gwendolyn,” I said. “Who was he and what did he do to you?”

She frowned. “It wasn’t what he did to me. It was what he did to—” She stopped abruptly. “Never mind.”

“I’ll find out eventually, you know,” I remarked. “And when I do, your tormentor will be relegated to the proper section of Hell—perhaps sooner rather than later.”

“No!” She glared at me. “Stay out of it, Laish! I want to take care of this on my own.”

I shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

But I swore silently to myself that whoever had hurt her would pay. I might not be able to win back her trust but I could protect her while we were in my realm and I could avenge whatever wrongs had been visited upon her.

That much I could do, even if I was never destined to see my little witch again after this quest was over.

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

The trip across the desert seemed to take forever. I supposed it could have been worse though. If we’d been plunked down in the middle of Minauros we would have had a minimum of three thousand miles to get through—compared to that a single day didn’t sound so bad.

It might not have sounded bad but it felt bad and not just because of the relentless heat, and the bright, piercing light stabbing down out of the sky. It also felt bad because Laish and I were fighting—though I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself.

I knew I was being unfair to him—he’d only been protecting me and defending my honor when he turned into that giant beast. But I couldn’t forgive him for what he was—for being a fire demon. How had I never noticed anything that might have hinted of what he was before? Well, maybe because I’d never seen him turn into a huge-ass dragon before. That was entirely possible.

Of course he did have those glowing, ruby red eyes—that should have been a clue. But I had been too busy drowning in those eyes to wonder about the reason for their color. I saw that now—saw that I had been falling for Laish while pretending to myself that I wasn’t. And for the first time I acknowledged how very close to the edge I’d allowed myself to get.

I thought about the way I’d acted the night before. Letting him kiss me and touch me…letting him make me come. What was wrong with me acting like that? Somehow he’d gotten under my radar. I’d been prepared for him to demand sexual favors as payment for his help in this quest. What I hadn’t been prepared for was a slow, gentle seduction. And I also hadn’t expected to start having feelings for him.

Well that stops now, I told myself firmly. It was true that we still had to pay the Sin Tax as we went through the different circles of Hell but that was just too bad. I would have to find another way to pay the tax—how, I didn’t know but I wasn’t getting close to Laish again. It was too damn dangerous.

We stopped in the shadow of a vast, spreading tree after a few hours to rest. Laish probably could have kept going forever—the heat didn’t bother him a bit, not surprising considering his nature. But it wasn’t fair to Kurex to ask him to keep going on and on with no rest. I was drooping too, even though I was riding instead of walking.

The heat was really getting to me and I had to admit I was glad of the white wrap Laish had given me to wear. It seemed to reflect some of the merciless sunlight which beat down on my head like a golden hammer, blow after silent blow.

“Oh, I’m so stiff!” I moaned as I swung myself down from Kurex’s saddle. Laish didn’t hold out a hand to help me—maybe he knew I would refuse his offer. He simply sat down on a low rock in the shade of the tree.

The tree was dead black with large, black waxy leaves that looked like sleeping bats—or maybe that was just glaring sun making things look strange. It grew at the center of an oasis of sorts—though not a very nice one. A pool filled with black, sluggish water that looked a lot like the water of the river Styx was surrounded by flat gray rocks. These made natural seats and after I had walked around some, I came and sat on one that was deep in shadow.

“It’s past time for a noonday meal,” Laish remarked. He was already pulling things out of the air—a bag of feed and a large bucket of water for Kurex which he explained would never go empty as long as the big horse was thirsty—as well as some food for himself. Then he got out a black-handled knife like the one he’d had before and a plate. He poised one wrist over the plate and held up the blade. “What will you have?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head. I still wasn’t certain if I should have eaten the piece of ripe, juicy cantaloupe that morning. Would it condemn me to Hell for a month every year? I certainly hoped not.

“Come, Gwendolyn—you must eat something,” Laish said reasonably. “You cannot keep going in this heat without anything in your stomach.”

“Actually, the heat is what’s keeping me from wanting to eat,” I said, lying only a little. “I can never eat when it’s this hot. And besides, I’ve been drinking so much I’m completely full of water.” I raised my Zephyrhills bottle and shook it at him. It was still full of cool, clear water—a fact I was very grateful for.

Laish looked like he might try to change my mind but then he simply shrugged his shoulders.

“Very well—I know better than to argue with you when you are being stubborn, mon ange.”

“I wish you’d stop calling me that.” I sat down across from him, trying to ignore the food he had conjured for himself which was mostly fresh, juicy fruit. “I really don’t—oh!”

My little gasp of surprise was due to the fact that I had taken off the white wrap he’d given me to wear. As I did, something flew out of my hair.

“What the—” I looked at the tiny white thing flitting around—it almost seemed to glow in the shadow. I ran my fingers quickly through my hair but didn’t find any more, thank goodness.

“Well, well—it appears we have a stowaway,” Laish remarked. He leaned forward to examine the little thing though he was careful not to touch it. “A lily-moth! I haven’t seen one of these in untold millennia.”

“A what?” I leaned forward too, staring at the little thing. It flitted about and then settled on my knee.

“A lily-moth. They live in the Celestial fields just outside the gates of Heaven. They drink the nectar of the flowers that grow there which are mostly lilies—hence the name.”

I looked closer at the tiny thing which looked more like a butterfly than a moth to me. It was about as big as my thumbnail and pure white except for faint gold lines that formed curving patterns on its miniscule wings.

“I wonder what it’s doing here if they’re native to Heaven,” I said.

Laish shook his head. “I do not know. Be careful not to hurt it—like all Heavenly creatures it is entirely pure. It must have been attracted by the purity of your soul and seen you as a refuge.”

“Aww, poor little thing,” I murmured, looking at the moth. “How did you get so far from home, huh? And what in the world are you doing here?”

“As to that, who can say?” Laish murmured. “Lily-moths will touch only what is pure so it must have had a long, weary journey before it found you to cling to.”

I felt sorry for it if I was the purest thing it could find to hold on to. The Goddess knew I don’t exactly have the best track record—what with the dark arts I’d dabbled in, in the not too distant past. But apparently here in Hell just not being damned was enough to make you look squeaky clean.

“Do you think it’s thirsty?” I asked, pouring a capful of my Zephyrhills water out for the little creature.

“I suppose we’ll find out.” Laish sounded amused.

“What’s so funny?” I demanded as the lily-moth crawled down my hand and went to investigate the water.

“You are, mon ange. You and your affinity for animals. I thought it strange at first that the beasts of Hell seemed drawn to you—first Cerberus, then Kurex. But now it appears that the creatures of Heaven find you irresistible as well.”

“You said yourself, the poor little thing is just trying to find someplace safe to land.” I nodded down at the lily-moth who was crouched over the capful of spring water. I couldn’t tell if it was drinking or not but its feathery little antennae waved up and down as it touched the surface. “Besides, witches have always had an affinity for animals. They trust us more than other people because they know we understand them.”

“Truly a heartwarming display,” Laish said. His words were sarcastic but his voice was soft and thoughtful. “What will you do now with your little stowaway, I wonder?”

“Well, keep her, of course,” I said. The moth seemed finished with the water so I put the cap back on the bottle and transferred the delicate little thing carefully to my shoulder. She was so light I couldn’t feel her at all but somehow I knew she was there. “She can ride with us if she wants,” I told Laish. “Maybe I can even get her back home with me. I mean, I know it’s not Heaven but it’s got to be better than this place.”

“Her?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“I don’t know—she seems like a girl, that’s all,” I said defensively. “Look how delicate and beautiful she is.”

“Truly, she is,” Laish murmured but when I glanced up, those ruby red eyes were trained on me, not the moth.

I felt the blood rushing to my face and looked quickly away.

“Lunchtime’s over. We need to get moving if we’re ever going to get out of this awful desert.”

“If you knew what awaited us in the next circle, you might not be so eager to leave Minauros,” Laish remarked, standing and brushing crumbs from his lap.

“Why? What are we up against next?” I felt a surge of apprehension.

“Stygia, as I told you, is a frozen waste. But before we get there, we must go through the Jealous Heart and that is a place…”

“What?” I asked when he trailed off. “What’s so bad about it?”

Laish sighed. “Let us just say it is a good thing you are not terrified of insects.” He nodded at the moth.

“What?” I felt my stomach do a slow flip. I’m not exactly afraid of bugs—I’m a Florida girl, after all which means I see a lot of them. But I don’t exactly love them either. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see,” he said ominously. “All too soon, I fear. Come—let me help you back up into the saddle.”

“No, thanks, I can manage,” I said coolly. I stepped out of the shade of the oasis, intending to take the huge horse by the bridle and lead him to one of the taller stones so I could mount in style. But I never made it.

“Gwendolyn, no don’t—” I heard Laish say and then my foot slipped through the sand and I felt myself falling. Suddenly all the sand around me was gone and I had a confused notion of darkness filled with spots of white below my feet.

I barely had time to scream before my fall was stopped by a jerk that made my teeth click together. I looked up and saw that Laish had me by the arm. There was a grim look on his face.

“Hold still,” he said tightly. “I must bring you up slowly so as not to crumble the lip of the sand trap.”

“Sand trap?” I gasped. “What…how…?”

“Just be still, Gwendolyn,” he said sternly. “And do not look down.”

Of course then I couldn’t help looking down—it was almost an instinct. I peered into the darkness and saw that the white spots I’d seen before were eyes—not the eyes of demons, though. These were human eyes, all looking up at me. And when I saw the eyes, I couldn’t help seeing the faces they were set in—faces which were all twisted into expressions of silent agony. Some were crying, some of them seemed to be shrieking but I couldn’t hear anything coming out of their distorted mouths.

“Laish!” I exclaimed, still looking, trying to make sense of the dark pit after the glare of the sunlight. “There are people down here.”

“I know,” he growled as he pulled me up very slowly. “Stop looking at them.”

But I couldn’t. Because as my eyes adjusted, I saw more and more. There must have been hundreds of people—mostly men—looking up at me from down in the pit. Some appeared to be howling or screaming and all seemed to be in the most awful pain.

Then I saw the reason why. Each and every one of them was pierced by a sharp stick—impaled on a stake that ran through their bodies and emerged from either their chest or back. Clearly the stakes were piercing vital organs and causing pain and damage that would have killed someone back in the Mortal Realm. But of course, this was Hell—so the souls I was seeing were stuck there, being impaled for all eternity—they literally could not die.

“Laish,” I gasped as he finally pulled me over the lip and away from the pit. “Oh my Goddess, those people…”

“Those rapists, you mean,” he said shortly, pushing me back to the shadow of the tree and the oasis.

“They…but they…”

“Are there because of their own actions,” he finished for me. “Do not spare them a second glance or any of your pity, Gwendolyn—they had none for their victims in life. Now in death they pay for their sins.”

I shook my head, unable to comprehend the horror I’d just seen. As I watched, the shifting sands of the desert rose and settled, blocking my view of the awful pit. Soon it was completely covered and no one that hadn’t seen it would have believed there was a hole filled with silently screaming people just below the sandy surface.

“That was…awful,” I whispered weakly.

“No, that was Minauros,” Laish said, still sounding grim. “You needn’t look so horrified, Gwendolyn—this is Hell, after all. It is a place of eternal torment and damnation.”

“Yes, I know. I mean, I know it cognitively,” I said. “But to actually see it…”

“I warned you not to look,” he said shortly. “Come, let’s get you back on Kurex’s back. This time I will help you.”

“All right,” I said humbly. “I didn’t know that pit was there or I wouldn’t have tried to get on myself. Is…is that the only one?”

“Come here.” He pulled me to him and stood behind me. Then he crouched down so that his cheek was pressed to mine and we were both looking out across the vast, sandy expanse of the desert.

“Laish—” I started to protest but he paid no attention.

“Look, Gwendolyn,” he said, and the growl was back in his voice. “Look as I look and see what I see.”

Something strange happened then—I suppose it was a kind of magic. Suddenly as his warm, cinnamon scent filled my senses, I saw what was really out there in that huge desert.

The sand was suddenly gone. In its place were hundreds—no, thousands—of pits. Most were filled with tortured souls but a few glowed an ominous red. I concentrated on those and saw they were filled with lava, moving sluggishly as it flowed through the underground caverns to some unknown destination.

“It flows to the Lake of Fire, in the very center of Minauros,” Laish murmured, as though he’d heard what I was thinking. “That place where I was cast when I first—”

“When you what?” I asked, trying to look at him, but his cheek was still pressed to mine. “You actually went into the Lake of Fire? And lived to tell about it?”

“Never mind. It was many millennia ago.” He pulled away abruptly, taking the strange vision with him. Now when I looked at the desert, I saw only a vast sweep of sand. But knowing that it was honeycombed by so many pits made me shiver.

“Are we…do we have to go back out onto the sand? I mean, will it support our weight?” I asked as Laish lifted me easily onto Kurex’s back.

“There are paths between the pits,” he said. “I know you cannot see them but I can. Why do you think I have been leading Kurex as we journeyed through Minauros?”

“But—”

“Gwendolyn…” He looked up at me, one hand on my leg. “You’ll simply have to trust me. There are many horrors here in the Infernal Realm—more than your mortal mind can count or imagine. If you tried, it would drive you mad. So trust me to take you through them and I swear, I will not lead you astray.”

The look in his eyes made me bite my lip. I heard what he wasn’t saying—the longing to regain my trust after what I’d seen him become…what I’d seen him do. But I didn’t know how to answer that—or if I could ever give him what he wanted.

“All right,” I said at last, not knowing what else to say. “I…I’ll try.”

“Thank you, that is all I ask. Now come, we must be going.”

He led Kurex back out onto the shifting sands and we resumed our journey in silence.

Chapter Twenty

Laish

We made better time to the end of Minauros than I had hoped. Gwendolyn was silent during our trip but I felt that at least it was a thoughtful silence. One thing I liked about her was that she wasn’t blindly prejudiced against me as so many were against demons. Maybe in time she would find a way to trust me again, despite what she had seen in the Hotel Infernal. I could only hope and wait. In the meantime, I was being careful not to pressure her. I knew very well that by trying to draw her to me I would only push her away.

I did wish I could have found a way to get her to eat some. She’d had nothing substantial since the sandwich she’d eaten yesterday before we entered Baator. I didn’t count the little piece of fruit she’d eaten that morning—it was hardly one bite. Traveling through Minauros was a grueling journey. I watched her anxiously as we went—wanting to be certain she wasn’t swaying in the saddle. If she got too faint and weak I could always force her to eat but I didn’t want to do that. It would erase any last vestige of trust she might feel for me and I had an idea I would never gain it back.

Still, she couldn’t be allowed to starve herself to death. I watched her covertly from the corner of my eye as Kurex plodded across the constantly shifting sands.

Her face was impassive, making it impossible to guess what she thought. Sometimes I caught a little of her internal monologue—because we were in my own realm where my powers were strongest and because she thought so very loudly. But I needed to be close to her—it helped especially to be touching and I was being careful not to do that unless it was absolutely necessary.

The little white lily-moth that had somehow followed us through the barrier between Baator and Minauros still clung to her shoulder like a good-luck talisman. I wondered again how it had gotten here, how it had gotten so far from home. Just seeing the tiny creature made me ache with a pain so old I had almost forgotten it. What was it that humans called it? That feeling of missing the place you once belonged and can no longer go back to? The name escaped me but I felt it now and fought it—such emotions would do me no good in this quest. We needed to press onward to our goal.

I was watching the sands, leading Kurex carefully around yet another sand trap when I heard Gwendolyn say, “Oh!” in a soft, awed voice. Looking up, I saw that we had found our way to the edge of the Desert of Death.

We had come at last to the Jealous Heart. But whether we could get through it or not would be entirely up to Gwendolyn.

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

“Where did that come from all of a sudden?” I asked, looking at the huge mountain that rose suddenly before us. It was huge, so tall I couldn’t see its peak. Something so vast should have been visible a long way off—we should have seen it the whole time we were traveling towards it. Instead, it had simply appeared, just like the Iron Spike and the city of Baator had both suddenly appeared. I was beginning to think this was the norm for Hell—things just blinking into existence like they’d been there all along. But it was no less unsettling for all that.

But even freakier than the suddenly-appearing mountain was the vast, dark opening I saw in its side. It looked like the mouth of a cave—twenty feet high and at least ten feet across. But though it was wide enough and facing towards the sun, no light penetrated its entrance. It was pitch black inside—like someone had hung some kind of black-out curtain across the entrance. Just looking into that yawning mouth and its endless slice of midnight made my heart do a funny little skip in my chest—like it was trying to get up into my throat.

“Ah—the Jealous Heart,” Laish said, stopping about twenty feet from it. “We have arrived even sooner than I had hoped. We can stop here for the night.”

“No,” I said, looking at him. “No, I don’t want to stop. Let’s go on—let’s go as far as we can.”

He frowned at me. “I don’t think you understand. There are necessary preparations one must make before crossing through the Jealous Heart. Steps that while tedious, are necessary for a safe passage. And then there is the small matter of the barrier which is at the exact center of the cavern.”

“The barrier?” I faltered. Somehow I’d managed to forget about the fact that we had to pay the Sin Tax in order to move between one circle of Hell and the next.

“Indeed.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Do you wish to pay the tax now…or later?”

Remembering my vow to myself, I lifted my chin.

“I don’t want to pay it at all—or at least, not the way we’ve been paying it,” I told him. “I mean, it’s called a Sin Tax, right? Not a lust tax. So it stands to reason that there must be another way to pay the tax. Some other, uh, sin I can commit.”

“Indeed there is,” Laish said quietly. “There are many sins to choose from although some are hard to commit in such a way as to breach the barrier.”

“Such as what?” I looked around me. “Look, are there any pits here? I’d really like to get down and stretch my legs before we go on.”

“The area around the Jealous Heart is free of sand traps. Just be careful not to get too close to the mouth of the cavern.” He reached up to take my hand and I grudgingly let him help me down.

Laish sighed as he got me safely to the ground.

“Well, pride—the excessive belief in one’s own abilities—cannot be your sin, as you just allowed me to help you off Kurex’s back.”

“What? I didn’t know we were starting now!” I protested. “Let me get back on and we can redo it!”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. And anyway, I do not believe pride will break the barrier or we would have felt it give way when you tried to mount Kurex earlier and nearly slipped into the trap.”

I shivered at the memory.

“Ugh! That was awful. Um…” I scuffed my foot against the sand. “I don’t think I thanked you for saving me. So, well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said gravely. “And I think we must rule out anger as your potential sin as you no longer seem to be angry with me.”

I sighed—he was right about that. I had been frightened and upset and yes, angry, with him for not telling me his true nature before. But now I couldn’t summon any rage against him at all. I just felt…sad though I didn’t even really know why. Because I’d been having feelings for him and had been forced to make myself let them go? Because I wished our circumstances were different?

Things would be so much easier if he was just a nice guy I’d met in a supermarket somewhere. Someone I could strike up a conversation and form a relationship with. Preferably a real one that would end in a soul bond and eternal love, like what my Grams had had with my grandpa.

Then I realized what I was thinking and scoffed at myself. How ridiculous! As if someone like Laish would ever look at home roaming the aisles of Publix or Winn Dixie.

As if I could form a soul bond with a being who had no soul.

I tried to shake the feeling and get back to business.

“Okay,” I said firmly. “What else could I do?”

“Sloth cannot be your sin because you have undertaken an arduous quest to close the door into the Abyss,” he said thoughtfully. “Greed will not do as you do not seem to desire either excessive wealth or power.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Except the power to take revenge on the one who had wronged you?”

“I’m not discussing that with you,” I said shortly. “It’s not your business.”

“Of course not. Well, I do not believe it would work anyway. In general, the sin one uses to pay the tax must be an actual physical action.”

“Great…just great.” I began to pace back and forth, forgetting my earlier fear of the dark mouth of the cave. In fact, I hardly noticed it now—I was too busy thinking about my dilemma. It felt good to stretch my legs but my mind was in an uproar, trying desperately to think of some way to break the barrier between the circles without doing anything sexual with Laish.

“I think gluttony must be ruled off the list of possible sins since I cannot now convince you to eat anything I give you,” Laish said dryly, watching me pace.

In fact, I was feeling lightheaded and empty at the moment—it had been a long time since that single bite of cantaloupe that morning and even longer since the PB&J from my broken Sponge Bob container. But I tried to ignore my rumbling stomach.

“I’m still not hungry,” I lied uneasily.

“You mean that you still do not trust me.” He cocked his head to one side for a moment and shook his head. “And your lie has not broken the barrier either, though I thought it might. Apparently a stronger sin is needed. Not surprising really—as we get deeper into the Infernal Realm, progressively stronger sins will be needed to break the barrier between circles.”

“Well, what can I do, then?” I asked desperately. “Because I’m not…not up for what we did last night again. Especially if we have to go further than we already have.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, mon ange,” he said quietly.

“Laish,” I began. “It’s not that I don’t find you attractive—I do. You know I do. I just can’t—”

But my sentence ended in a strangled gasp. Skuttling towards me, out of the mouth of the cavern Laish had called the Jealous Heart, was one of the most hideous creatures I’d ever seen.

It was a spider—but not like any spider I’d ever seen. It had the body and legs of a tarantula which was horrifying enough but then it had the head of a chipmunk. Either a chipmunk or a squirrel. Anyway, some kind of little woodland creature you’d coo at and try to feed some of your lunch if you were having a picnic. But that head was stuck onto a huge, hairy, eight-legged body bigger than my hand and it was headed straight at me!

“Ahh!” I screamed and jumped back. Yes, I know I said bugs don’t bother me but I was talking about insects. Spiders are a whole different ball game. The way they move—all skittery and quick—freaks me right the hell out. Once when I was eight one of those big wolf spiders got on my arm and crawled right up in my hair. I was hysterical for hours afterwards, even after Grams got it out and killed it.

“Gwendolyn, wait!” Laish was saying but I barely heard him.

The spidermunk or chipspider or whatever you wanted to call it was coming towards me fast. All I could think was that it probably wanted to crawl on my skirt. Or under my skirt! Oh God, I couldn’t take that! I tried to get away but it kept following me. I was afraid if I went too far back I might fall into one of those awful pits and this time Laish might not be close enough to grab me and save me.

“Get away from me!” I shrieked at it. “Get away!”

But it ran right up to me in that awful skittering way, making me want to puke or faint or scream or all three. Yes, I know it’s girly but what can I say? I hate spiders.

The thing got right up to my skirt and I actually had a mental image of it going right up inside the long green dress I was wearing. Oh no, that’s not happening—no way in Hell! said a grim little voice in my head. Instinct took over and I lifted my foot and stomped down on the hybrid creature as hard as I could.

It gave a loud shrill shriek and there was an awful crunching sound which is the main reason I hate killing bugs—that sound like somebody stepping in a bowl of Frosted Flakes. Ugh! Then it twitched once and I felt it go limp under my little black ballet flat.

I skipped backwards and tried to wipe the black ichor the thing was leaking from the bottom of my shoe. I was so grossed out and worked up I almost felt like I wanted to scream. Waves of revulsion ran through me, strong enough to make me shake, especially when I looked at the mangled mess that was left in the sand.

“Ugh—gross, gross, gross!” I muttered to myself, bile rising in my throat. It was a good thing I hadn’t eaten anything much that day or it would have come right up at that moment. Luckily my stomach was empty but that didn’t stop me from gagging anyway.

The chipspider looked up at me with one eye which could still see—the other was popped like a smashed grape. It’s long, hairy legs were still twitching feebly and black blood was leaking through its sharp white teeth. It made a final, feeble noise—almost like a squeak you might hear from a regular chipmunk. Then, as I watched, the light died from its remaining eye and it went completely still.

At the same time I felt a now familiar ripple in the air around me. I looked around, dragging my eyes from the small, mangled corpse that was already being buried by the sand.

“Congratulations, Gwendolyn,” Laish said grimly in my ear. “You have found a way to pay the tax without giving yourself to me. Now come, we must go.”

“What? What are you talking about?” I asked, but he was already boosting me up on Kurex’s back and getting up behind me. “I thought there were preparations we had to make before we could go through.”

“Yes—we should have made a deal with the emissary of the Skitterlings for a safe passage. That is what it was coming to do when you very unwisely killed it.”

“Skitterlings? That’s what you call that thing?”

“That is the name of their species. They are a minor demon but though they look like animals they are a sentient people who can think and reason.” He was already gathering Kurex’s reins and aiming the big horse towards the pitch black hole in the side of the mountain.

“What—you mean I killed an actual person?” I was aghast. “Or something that can think like a person, anyway? And there are more of them in there?”

“A whole army.” Laish sounded even more grim. “And as soon as they realize what you have done to their emissary, they will mobilize for war. We must go through the Jealous Heart now before they understand what has happened.”

“But—” I began.

Laish, paid me no attention. He was already spurring Kurex forward, into the mouth of that black and awful tunnel. That tunnel that I now knew was crawling with hundreds and hundreds of huge spider things that were shortly going to be extremely pissed off at me.

Chapter Twenty-one

Laish

We raced forward, into the darkness. I was not worried for myself—I knew perfectly well that the Skitterling venom, while intensely painful, could not kill me. But I did not want Gwendolyn to be bitten even once. She was weak from going without food and riding all day in the scorching sun. Plus, I wasn’t sure how her human body would react to the bites—not well, I was sure. So I spurred Kurex onward, trying to get through the Jealous Heart before the word of the emissary’s death spread to the rest of the Skitterling tribe.

Overhead, I could hear their masses gathering. The soft, scratching sound of their many legs and their high, questioning calls to each other indicated their confusion. No one simply charged into the Jealous Heart without first striking a deal with the Skitterlings. Even the demons raiding parties that went back and forth between Stygia and Minauros almost every night had long standing agreements with the hybrid tribe. Often the smallest and weakest demon was left behind as tribute—to be devoured at the Skitterlings’ leisure. I myself had been prepared to offer them some of my blood or flesh but they wouldn’t be interested in that now. Now all they would want was the one who had killed their emissary—now all that would satisfy them was Gwendolyn.

Well, they would not have her, I swore to myself as we galloped through the black tunnel. When I looked up I could see their eyes glowing poison green in the darkness. Then I heard the timbre of their calls change from confusion to anger. Word must be spreading from the mouth of the tunnel, they were learning what had happened, what my little witch had unwittingly done.

I spurred Kurex faster even as I felt one of the Skitterlings drop onto my shoulder. I brushed it off and another dropped down and then another.

“Laish!” Gwendolyn’s voice was as close to panicked as I had ever heard it. “Laish, they’re coming down! I think there’s one in Kurex’s mane! Oh my Goddess!”

“Hold tight,” I told her. “I’m going to make a light—they don’t like that and it should drive them back.” She wouldn’t like it either, I was sure. It would illuminate the tunnel and show her our true danger. “Don’t look,” I told her, knowing it would do no good. She wasn’t good at following such orders as I knew from experience.

Leaning a little away from her, I spoke a word of power. I didn’t like to use the Dark Language so close to Gwendolyn, fearing to cause her pain but in this case I had no choice.

Light blazed out around us, illuminating every crevice and cranny of the vast tunnel. In my arms, Gwendolyn stiffened and gave a small, breathless scream.

Every square inch of the rocky walls was teaming with Skitterlings—most of them quite large. The emissaries, like the one Gwendolyn had killed, were the smallest caste of this demon species—and the only ones who would willingly withstand the light. The others were considerably larger. In fact, I saw a few quite as large as myself crawling on the walls. If one of them decided to go for us, we would have a difficult time indeed.

“Goddess,” Gwendolyn whispered, pressing herself back against me. “They…they’re not all chipmunks!”

“What?” I wasn’t sure what she was talking about at first—I was too busy brushing off the smaller Skitterlings that had fallen on Kurex and myself.

“There are some with other heads—dogs and cats and goats and owls…Goddess, that one has the head of a lion—how is that even possible?”

“All terrible things are possible in Hell,” I said grimly. “Hang on, Gwendolyn, we are coming to the end of the Heart and it may be difficult to get out.”

“Difficult? Why?” She sounded even more frightened and I felt her grab the arm I had wrapped around her waist in a tight, panicky grip.

“Just hold on,” I told her. The light from my word of power was fading but already I could see the pale blue illumination from the Stygia end of the tunnel. We were extremely lucky that this had happened during the daylight hours. If we had been coming out into a cold, black Stygia night the Skitterlings would have pursued us for miles. As it was, all we needed to do was get out of the Jealous Heart and we should be all right.

If we could get out. Up ahead I saw the tunnel’s exit…but I also saw something else. The most monstrous Skitterling yet awaited us, crouching at the mouth of the tunnel, blocking our way out. He was as massive as Kurex, though lower to the ground, and had the head of a man with long wild black hair and yellow eyes. When he opened his mouth, I saw the jagged, serrated teeth of a shark.

“Give us the human girl!” he hissed, his eyes glowing in the dying light, his long hairy legs poised to spring. “Give us the one who killed our emissary! We will feast on her flesh in retribution for his death! Give us the girl!”

There was no time to argue. Outside, just past the huge demon, I glimpsed the Stygia landscape, a mountainside covered in ice and snow. In particular, there was a large drift piled up just outside the mouth of the tunnel.

“Gwendolyn,” I breathed in her ear. “Trust me now.”

“Trust you? Why—?”

Before she could finish her question I had caught her by the waist and was lifting her clear of Kurex’s back. As she screamed, I tossed her lightly over the monster’s head and out of the mouth of the tunnel. I barely had time to ascertain that she had landed safely in the snow drift before the huge Skitterling roared in anger and turned to go after her.

I saw the danger at once. Despite their dislike of sunlight, their hatred of the girl who had killed one of their own was greater. He would come for her, even if it meant going into the sun.

I dug my heels into Kurex’s flanks, urging him upward. Being a war horse he knew what I wanted at once. His hooves came down upon the heaving, hairy body at the same time I shouted a word of power—a killing word this time.

I had just time to see the surprised look on the Skitterling’s face before its head exploded, spraying black ichor everywhere. Kurex finished trampling its spasming body beneath his hooves, neighing wildly and then I urged him forward, out into the light.

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

“Gwendolyn, come!”

I was still struggling to my feet, trying to brush the freezing snow off my soaked dress when Laish reached down and dragged me up into the saddle again.

“What—?” I began but he was already wrapping an arm around my waist and urging Kurex into a gallop. We rushed over the snowy, slippery ridge we found ourselves on much faster than was probably safe but when I looked back, I saw why speed was necessary.

A horde of the animal-headed spiders was pouring out of the mouth of the tunnel. They hissed and hooted and growled as they scuttled towards us. My heart was pounding in my throat and I thought I might be sick. Would they keep on following? What if they caught us? I had seen Laish explode the human head of the one that seemed to be the leader but there were several more his size and none of them looked like they were giving up.

“Laish!” I gasped as we continued to pound down the snowy ridge. “Laish, they’re gaining on us! I thought you said they didn’t like the light!”

“They hate it,” he said. “But just at the moment they hate you more for killing one of their kind.”

“What are we going to do?” I demanded, tightening my grip on his arm. “What are we going to do?”

“We may have to stop and take a stand.” He sounded grim but calm. “We are coming to the Drowning Pools soon—it is not safe to gallop through them. They must be skirted carefully like the sand traps of Minauros.”

“Make a stand?” I nearly shrieked. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly serious, Gwendolyn.” His arm tightened around me. “What is more, I may have to take my dragon form again. I am sorry if it disturbs you but it is the quickest way to drive them all back. Words of power will only work on one at a time and there are far too many for that.”

I swallowed hard. I didn’t like the idea of seeing him morph into that huge dragon-snake thing again but I didn’t think we had much choice. The awful human-headed Skitterling’s words came back to me—”We will feast on her flesh…” it had hissed, right before Laish exploded its head. It didn’t take me long to decide it was way better to watch him barbeque the spider-things in dragon form than to end up as their lunch.

“All right,” I said. “Do what you have to do.”

Laish stopped and wheeled Kurex around so that we were facing the seething, teaming mass of spiders flowing down the mountain side towards us. He dismounted quickly and handed me the reins.

“If they overcome me, Kurex will take you to safety,” he said. “Whatever you do, do not leave his back.”

“Laish—” I began but he was already changing—swelling and morphing into the thing with black scales, steak-knife teeth, and a furnace in its belly.

I watched, numb with cold and fear, my hands gripping the reins, as Laish stepped forward to meet the flowing horde. There must have been thousands of them—tens of thousands. The white snow was black with their bodies. Even as huge and imposing as Laish was in his dragon form, I was frightened for him.

If his change into a massive fire breathing monster bothered the Skitterlings, they didn’t show it. They rushed forward, flowing like a horrible, hairy, many-legged tide and I knew it was me they were aiming for—me they wanted to kill. And Laish was the only thing standing between me and being swarmed and eaten by the awful horde.

“Get back!” he roared in that deep, inhuman voice. “The human girl is mine!”

They paid no attention—still they came and now I could see their individual heads and faces. So many of them and such strange mixtures—bird-spiders, goat-spiders, bull-spiders, grizzly bear-spiders…I even saw one as big as a fishing boat that had the head of a great white shark. That one was looking straight at me with flat black eyes, its jagged teeth gnashing in eagerness to get to me.

The shark-spider was coming faster and faster but before I could open my mouth to scream, Laish opened his. A vast jet of liquid fire belched from his glowing throat. He sprayed it back and forth, covering as many of the Skitterlings with it as he could, like a fireman working a fire hose.

All around piercing, hissing shrieks went up. The spider creatures curled into flaming balls, writhing wildly in the snow, trying to put themselves out. But Laish’s fire was like napalm—it stuck to their hairy hides and refused to be extinguished.

But despite the swath of death and destruction he cut through their ranks, there were already more Skitterlings coming. Thick and fast they poured from the mouth of the Jealous Heart, scrambling over the bodies of their fallen comrades, eager to reach us—eager to reach me.

Laish breathed his liquid fire at them again and again. The air was filled with the sounds of dying screams and the stench of scorched flesh and still they came. They were a hundred yards away now…fifty…twenty…

“Go!” Laish roared at me, taking a moment between jets of flame. “Go now, Gwendolyn!”

“I don’t want to leave you!” I protested, though my heart was in my mouth. What could I possibly do against the awful Skitterlings? If given the right materials I might have whipped up a really good curse. But effective witchcraft takes time and that was what we didn’t have. Still, I didn’t want to leave Laish alone, especially when I was the cause of the awful trouble we found ourselves in.

Apparently he knew I wouldn’t change my mind.

“Kurex,” he shouted to the horse, whose ears pricked forward at once. “Take her—go!” He added some words in that harsh language that hurt my ears and then, before I could protest, Kurex was galloping again, taking me down the mountainside and into the flat, snow covered plains below that Laish had called the Drowning Pools.

“No! No!” I tugged hard on the reins but the big horse wasn’t listening to me at all. He neighed and surged forward, taking me away from the battle.

I turned my head, the freezing air whipping my hair into my face, and saw an awful sight—the Skitterlings had reached Laish and they were swarming him. Hundreds of them covered his head and scaly sides. He whipped his long neck and tail back and forth, shaking them off, trampling them beneath his clawed feet, and always breathing more and more fire but it did no good. No matter how many he killed there were always more coming…always more and more and more.

My last sight of him was of a writhing mass covered in the many-legged bodies. A great spout of flame emerged from the mass, shooting straight up into the dirty gray sky like a flag of surrender or defeat. And then Kurex galloped down over the crest of high hill and I could see no more.

Chapter Twenty-two

Gwendolyn

I cried and cried and the tears froze on my cheeks. We were far from the battle now and Kurex seemed to be picking his way carefully through the field of snow although he had galloped for as long as he could. I clung to his back, half frozen in the lightweight dress Laish had conjured me to wear in the scorching desert. Here in the frozen wastes of Stygia, the dress was almost useless. I was certain he had planned to give me something much more substantial to wear once we got here but he hadn’t had a chance—and now he might never get the chance. He might be dead—or what served for dead with demons, whatever that was.

No, stop—don’t think like that! I told myself but I couldn’t help it—my mind went on and on. Though I wished I could push the awful thoughts away they just kept coming. Could a demon of his status be killed? Laish had seemed to think so—he had told me that if the Skitterlings overcame him I should stay with Kurex. But could he really be gone? It didn’t seem possible. And yet—

“Please, Mistress…”The soft, pleading voice broke my train of thought and I looked down to see where it was coming from. “Pl-please,” begged the voice again.

The freezing wind, which seemed to be eternally blowing in this level of Hell, whipped the snow by Kurex’s front hooves aside and I saw the edge of what appeared to be a wide, deep pond. Leaning out of it, her lips blue, her teeth chattering, was a girl who looked to be about my age. It was impossible to say what color her hair was—it was dark with water—but her pale skin had a distinctly bluish tint to it too. Clearly she was freezing to death.

“Oh my!” I tugged on Kurex’s reins, pulling him up short though he snorted and stamped. “What happened to you?” I asked, scrambling off the horse. “Did you fall in?”

“No, they th-threw me in.” Her green eyes were wide and pitiful. “And I c-couldn’t get out.”

I pushed the leather satchel I wore crossed over my chest to one side and was just in the act of leaning over to offer her my hand when I remembered what Laish had told me—that Minauros had been made to punish rapists and Stygia to punish murderers.

“Wait a minute.” Though it went against every instinct I had not to grab the girl and drag her out at once, I hesitated. “Who threw you in? And why?” I demanded.

“Why…” She leaned further out of the pool—almost close enough to touch—and her green eyes seemed to gleam. “They did—the ones as punished me. The ones as wanted me to drown forever.”

“And what did they punish you for?” I asked, not liking that gleam in her eyes. I couldn’t help thinking of the pits filled with lost souls in Minauros, doomed to eternal agony and torment. Could this be the same kind of thing?

“Only just for strangling my little sister, Mistress.” The green eyes were glowing now. “But she was fucking my man—what else was I supposed to do?”

She lunged forward suddenly, flopping halfway out of the pool lightning quick like some huge, awful fish. Before I could step backwards, one ice cold hand had closed around my ankle.

“What are you doing? Let me go!” I grabbed on to Kurex’s stirrup and tried to pull away from the girl in the pool but her grip was horribly strong. Slowly but surely I felt my hold on the stirrup loosening.

“I don’t think so, Mistress.” The girl didn’t sound so pitiful anymore. Her teeth had stopped chattering and her eyes were glowing like two poison stars. “I think you’re going to join me.”

“No…no!” I gasped but the stirrup slipped from my hands and then I was sliding across the frozen ground, being dragged into the icy pool by the vengeful soul. “Let…me…go!” I snapped, kicking out at her with my free foot. She only laughed and dodged. Even when I did manage to connect, she simply shook off the force of my kick and kept dragging.

I twisted wildly when I felt the icy water touch my feet and then my ankles and calves. This was all happening so fast! It hadn’t even been a whole minute since I’d slipped off Kurex’s back to answer what I thought was a cry for help. Now I was about to be drowned for my foolishness.

Hadn’t Laish told me I should trust no one but him? And to keep to myself if we were ever separated? And what had I done? Ignored his orders yet again. I swore to myself if I could somehow get out of this I would listen to him and do what he said.

But even as I made the promise, I was already waist deep in freezing water and the girl was wrapping icy fingers around my throat.

“No!” I tried to pry her fingers from around my neck but as before, her grip was supernaturally strong. I wished I knew some of the harsh language Laish used—what he had called words of power—but I didn’t. I was all alone with no one to help me.

“Not quite alone,” whispered a voice in my head…or was it my ear? For some reason I found myself looking back up at Kurex who was stamping restively. The girl’s attack on me had been so sudden I didn’t think he’d even realized what exactly was going on. But he was just an animal—could he help me?

If I’d been raised with horses or dogs—the kinds of animals that rescue or guard their owners—I might have called for him at once. But I had always been a cat person and cats, while nice, aren’t likely to fight off a burglar for you or try to drag you from a burning building. Still, I had to try—Kurex was my only hope.

“Kurex!” I gasped, trying to squeeze my voice out though I was getting less and less air with the angry girl’s fingers wrapped around my throat. “Kurex, help! Here, boy—help!”

He turned at once and seemed to see the situation for the first time. With an angry, ringing neigh, he aimed one dinner plate-sized front hoof at the girl. One sharp kick –which looked like a black blur from my point of view—and the grip around my neck loosened.

Kurex kicked again and the girl’s hands slipped away entirely. Her poison green eyes lost their spark and rolled up in her head. One side of her face was caved in and blackish blood poured from her nostrils and the corner of her mouth.

“G-good b-boy,” I gasped at Kurex, my teeth chattering. As the girl sank beneath the glassy surface of the pool, I scrabbled at the icy, snow-packed ground, trying to pull myself up. But I was so weak and cold I could make no headway. Fighting the girl seemed to have taken the last of my energy. I could feel myself slipping backwards, unable to get out. Maybe I would drown here after all, even without the murderous soul to pull me down…

Kurex gave another ringing neigh and bent down to nuzzle me anxiously with his huge nose.

“S-sorry, boy,” I gasped and the words seemed to be coming from far away. “C-can’t…”

Then his huge head moved and I felt something clamp on to the back of my sodden green gown. I gasped as I felt myself lifted and dragged out of the freezing pool by an unseen force. Suddenly I understood—the big horse had my dress in his teeth and was pulling me to safety.

He deposited me gently on the ground between his front hooves and then nosed me again. But for a moment all I could do was lie there. I was chilled to the bone and the bottom half of me was so numb I could barely feel my feet and legs. Kurex nosed me again, snorting anxiously.

“You have to get up,” whispered a little voice in my ear. “You have to or you’ll die here in this dreadful place. Get up, Gwendolyn—get up!”

“I can’t,” I told it, wondering if I was talking to myself or someone else. “I just can’t…I’m so tired. So tired…”

“What about your grandmother and your sister—the ones you love? The ones you’re going to save? What about Laish? Get up for them, even if you can’t for yourself,” the soft voice urged.

“Laish is dead,” I whispered and fresh, hot tears ran down my frozen cheeks. But somehow I found the strength to crawl to my hands and knees and from there, with the help of Kurex’s bridle, I was finally able to stand.

Clambering up onto his broad back in my present half-frozen state without help would have been impossible. Luckily there was a rock half buried in the snow a dozen yards ahead that was just the right height. I somehow scrambled onto its slippery surface and from there I was able to throw one leg across the Demon-steed’s broad back. Then I sat there, clinging to the saddle, freezing and miserable and not knowing what to do next.

Kurex snorted inquiringly and turned his head to look at me with one large eye.

“I don’t care,” I told him tiredly. “Go where you want. See if you can find us someplace warm, that’s all I ask.”

He snorted again and began moving, once more picking his way carefully down a path only he could see. Personally, I was glad everything was covered with snow as the plains of Minauros had been covered with sand. If there were thousands of pools filled with eternally-drowning murderers and murderesses on this vast tract of frozen waste, I didn’t want to know about it. I simply bent my body as close to Kurex’s warm neck as I could get and let him take me where he wanted.

After what seemed like hours but might only have been minutes, the big horse came to a stop and I heard him snort again. Forcing myself to look up, I saw a crude wooden shack set on a little bit of raised ground. Was this what passed for shelter here in Stygia? Well, at least it would be out of the freezing wind which was whipping against my numb legs and turning the folds of my wet dress to ice.

Kurex snorted again and I patted his neck.

“Good boy. Thank you—this is good.”

I half slid, half fell off his back and stumbled to the icy ground. There was a little, well-worn path leading up to the cabin. It had a thin dusting of snow and I saw cloven hoof prints leading away from it. Perhaps it belonged to some kind of shepherd who kept sheep or goats? Or maybe something much worse, whispered an ominous voice in the back of my head.

But I couldn’t afford to be afraid of what might be behind the crude wooden door of the little shack. If I stayed out here in the punishing wind which whipped snowflakes against my cheeks I was going to freeze to death.

Forcing myself forward, I climbed the small path, keeping my eyes on the ground, taking one step at a time. I had a moment of dull amazement when I realized that both my little black ballet flats were still on, despite my dip in the Drowning Pool. Wow, that was nice anyway. Or it would be if they weren’t sloshing with icy water.

Finally I reached the wooden door and reached for the latch. I swung it open as quietly as I could, not sure what to expect.

What greeted my eyes was a one-room living space—a lot like the small, dark cabins you see on those pioneer reenactment farms where everyone wears period clothes and actually churns butter. There was a bed in one corner—thankfully empty, a table with two crude wooden stools on the other side of the room and—this was what finally drew me inside—a fireplace.

There was no fire in the grate but there was wood in an untidy stack nearby. Calling fire is one of the first bits of magic a witch learns and it doesn’t take any special ceremonies or paraphernalia. As tired and frozen as I was, I thought I could manage to call a spark. And after that, if the wood was good and dry, the fire would take care of itself.

“Hello?” I said as loudly as I could, looking around as I stood just inside the door. The room looked empty but I wanted to be sure. “Hello, is anyone home?”

Silence was my only answer and I was satisfied at last that I could stay here—at least for a while.

“Okay, Kurex,” I said, turning to speak to the big horse. “This is good. It’s kind of small but we might be able to squeeze you inside if you duck and—”

But the words died in my throat. Kurex was already trotting away, going back the way we had come.

“Kurex, no!” I took a step towards him, feeling like I was losing my only friend. But the icy wind whipping just outside the doorway made me stop. I felt the stinging bite of tiny bits of ice against my cheek—the snow had turned to hail. Reluctantly, I stepped back inside and shut the door. Laish was gone and now Kurex was too.

I was all alone in Hell.

Chapter Twenty-three

Gwendolyn

It didn’t take too long to get the fire going. The wood was heavy but it was dry. When I had finally managed to dump several big, clunky logs into the iron grate of the fireplace I summoned the last of my strength and called a spark.

The spark took on the first try and soon the fire was licking up and down the logs hungrily. I was so tired at that point I wanted to just lay down in front of the fireplace and sleep, but I couldn’t. The wet dress was dragging me down, keeping me chilled to the bone despite the roaring fire.

I struggled with the sodden fabric, trying to get it off but it clung to me stubbornly. At last, in desperation, I managed to rip it in the middle and peel it down. I stepped out of it and kicked it to one side, standing naked in front of the fire at last. I didn’t know what I was going to wear out of here but at least now I wouldn’t freeze to death.

I had a sudden thought and went to look in my leather satchel, which I’d dumped by the door when I first came in. I didn’t like being naked and maybe the change of clothes I’d brought would finally come in handy.

It was no good though—the satchel had come with me into the Drowning Pool and my spare jeans and t-shirt were completely soaked. I left them in the satchel and went back to the fireplace.

“Ahhh…” The soft sigh broke from my lips as the warmth bathed my chilly skin. I had been afraid I might have gotten frostbite from the cold but to my relief, all my fingers and toes seemed to work normally as they warmed up. I set my little black shoes to dry by the side of the grate and turned back and forth, letting the warmth bathe my naked skin from back to front and back again.

At last I felt warm enough to explore a little—not that there was much to explore. The crude bed had no sheets—only a single stiff gray blanket on its dirty mattress. The mattress itself looked like it might be stuffed with straw or some other itchy material that poked through in places. I decided that if I had to sleep here, I would just curl up in front of the fire. Who knew what kind of vermin infested the bed?

A look at the table revealed a single wooden plate with some strips of strange looking, oily gray meat on it. Though I was hungry enough that my stomach was gnawing my backbone, as Grams liked to say, I wasn’t a bit tempted. Who knew what animal—or person—that strange looking meat had come from? I wasn’t about to find out, especially knowing that anything I ate here could tie me to the Infernal Realm indefinitely.

“I’ll just have to go hungry,” I muttered to myself, going back to the fireplace to warm up some more. “I don’t know how I’ll get out of here but somehow I’ll find a way. I—”

Suddenly the door crashed open, letting in a freezing blast of winter wind that rushed through the room and put out half the fire.

“What have we here?” roared a deep, grating voice that sounded more animal than man. “A pretty little girlie come to visit? Good thing old Gorlock is feeling in a welcoming mood.”

“I…you…” I was already trying to move away from the huge shape looming in the doorway—a demon with two curving horns growing from either side of its head. It had a human face and upper body at least, but from the waist down it appeared to be either a goat or a bull or some other hoofed creature. I saw with disgust that its massive shaft was already half hard. As it stared at my naked body, that changed to fully hard in an instant. Ugh! Didn’t anybody wear pants down here?

“And all naked and ready for fun, too,” the demon boomed, taking a step towards me. “Now how did you get out of your pool, girlie? That’s not supposed to happen. Never mind, we’ll have some fun before we put you back.”

So he thought I was one of the drowning souls which had escaped from my pool. Not that it mattered what he thought I was, considering what he obviously had in mind.

“No!” I gasped, taking a step backward and trying to cover myself with both hands while at the same time looking for a weapon. “Look, I swear I didn’t mean to break into your house! I was freezing—I had no choice!”

“If you’re freezing, little girlie, then old Gorlock will warm you up.” The demon took another menacing step towards me, his hooves clunking on the uneven stone floor. He had red skin, like the demons guarding the entrance gates of Hell, and his eyes glowed an evil yellow.

“Don’t touch me!” I said, reaching down and grabbing a chunk of firewood. “I swear to the Goddess I’ll kill you if you do! I’m not just a drowned soul—I’m a witch!”

The demon’s yellow eyes widened and for a moment I thought I’d made an impact. Then they narrowed again and his wide, flat nostrils flared as he inhaled my scent.

“So you is, girlie—a human with a fresh, untainted soul. And right here in old Gorlock’s hut. Imagine that…” He came toward me again, looming over me menacingly. “Ahhh, it’s been years—years—since old Gorlock tasted a pure soul! They don’t lets me up to the Mortal Realm much, ya see. But now, here’s the Mortal Realm come down to me!”

“I didn’t come to you on purpose,” I said, lifting my chin. “I came with Laish—one of the Great Demons—a Prince of Night and Shadow. He’ll be very upset if he finds you’ve, uh, hurt me in any way.”

His eyes widened again and then he laughed—a hoarse, awful croaking sound that sent a cold shiver of dread down my spine.

“A Great Demon, huh—you mean one as can changed his shape, girlie?”

“Well, yes…” I said, still backing away from him with the piece of firewood clutched in my hands.

“Like maybe he can take a wyrm form—as is what some calls a dragon?”

My heart was sinking but I tried not to let it show.

“Yes, that’s one of his forms,” I said, trying not to let my voice tremble.

“So that must be him, then—or his carcass—bein’ picked over by the Skitterlings away up on yonder ridge.” He jerked his horned head at the direction of the doorway. “Saw ‘im, I did—laying there still as you please while they stripped the flesh from his bones. I reckon if he ain’t dead, he’s doin’ a mighty fine impression of it.”

“You…you’re lying,” I said and this time my voice shook—I couldn’t help it.

“Now why would I lie ‘bout something like that?” the demon asked, smirking. “Tis a pity and a sin when one of the great ones goes to meet the Maker, so it tis. But it leaves more for us little fellers…not that old Gorlock could be exactly called little.” He fisted his massive, brick-red shaft and started stroking it suggestively, leering at me as he did.

No, he certainly wasn’t little. He wasn’t as cartoonishly huge as Druaga had been but he wasn’t far behind. I watched with horror as the precum that ran from the broad red tip dripped to the stone floor and hissed and bubbled like acid. That was going to hurt if he tried to get it in me.

“Then don’t let him,” a little voice whispered in my ear. “Fight, Gwendolyn—fight!”

A new surge of courage flowed through me, stiffening my spine and straightening my shoulders. I was determined not to go down without a fight!

I brandished my chunk of firewood at the demon and lifted my chin.

“Get that nasty-ass thing away from me before I knock it off,” I snapped.

“Oh-ho—the little human wants to play rough!” The yellow eyes glowed with cruel delight. “We can do that, so we can. Old Gorlock likes it rough…although if you’d just hold still and let me have a taste of that sweet soul it might not hurt quite so much.”

“What are you talking about?” I snapped. “You can’t get at my soul—you don’t even have a soul hook.”

“A soul-hook, is it?” He bellowed that hoarse, croaking laughter again. “Why, who needs a soul hook when I’ve got this?” He stroked his shaft some more. “This is all the hook I need to taste your soul, girlie. After all, why reach down your throat to get it when it’s so much more fun to go up through your cunt?”

“You…you can’t!” Could he? For a moment my courage wavered. I remembered what Laish had said about the taking and tasting of a soul being a sexual thing—was this what he had meant? Surely not! And yet the demon was still advancing, backing me into a corner with only the clunky piece of firewood for a weapon.

“I can and I will!” he declared, leering at me as he loomed over me. “Why should I hook out that sweet little soul when I can fuck it out instead? Cause that’s what I’m going to do to you, girlie. Going to—”

“All you’re going to do is die,” a deep, cold voice behind him said.

Suddenly, as I looked up at him, it appeared that the demon had grown a third horn—this one right in the center of his forehead. The demon—Gorlock—seemed just as surprised as I was. He raised red, clawed hands to scrabble at the new horn that had somehow sprouted from his head. Then his yellow eyes rolled up and he collapsed heavily, falling first to his knees and then to his side.

Laish stood just behind him, naked and holding a huge, curving black blade which was plunged into the back of the demon’s thick skull. He yanked it out and threw it aside, just in time to catch me as I fell into his arms.

* * * * *

Laish

“Laish, Laish—I thought you were dead! He said—that awful demon—he said he saw the Skitterlings pick…picking your b-bones…”

Gwendolyn’s voice cracked and turned into a sob. I held her to me, stroking her smooth brown skin as she trembled in my arms. I didn’t try to explain—only held her tight. So many males don’t understand that this is what a woman needs sometimes—just to be held.

I stroked her back and murmured soothing words into her ear as she pressed herself against me. I don’t think she even noticed we were both naked. Though I had waited months to hold her to me this way with nothing between us, I was, for once, too weary to be terribly excited myself. The battle with the Skitterlings had taken all of my reserves and most of my power. I would need time to recuperate before we could begin our journey again. But now that the occupant of the small wooden hut was dead, at least we had a safe place to rest.

I eyed the prone form of the lesser demon with disgust. Kurex had brought me back just in time. In another moment, Gwendolyn would have lost her innocence, her powers as a witch, and her soul all at once. I only wished I could bring the bastard back to life and kill him again for scaring her so badly and threatening to do such unspeakable things to her.

Yes, this was Hell and such things were to be expected but still, I could not bear the thought of them happening to Gwendolyn. More than ever I wanted to hold and protect her, to never let her go.

At last her trembling stopped and she pulled away from me a little.

“I’m sorry.” She rubbed her eyes. “I…uh, didn’t mean to get all girly on you.”

“You had a shock and a very close call. More than one, in fact, in the very recent past,” I pointed out, sweeping a strand of hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. “No one could fault you for needing an emotional release.”

“A release. Right.” She tried to laugh but the sound that came out was wavering and uncertain. “But how…how did you…?”

“I will tell you everything,” I promised. “But first let us see to tidying the place up a bit.” I gripped the lesser demon by one beefy forearm and dragged him out of the hut. I tossed him around the side where he wasn’t immediately visible. Hopefully the snow would come and bury his body until it decomposed—or at least until we left the hut. I didn’t want Gwendolyn to have to look at her would-be rapist ever again.

Next I saw to Kurex. Being a Demon-steed, he had no need of protection from the elements. Still, I reached into the last dregs of my reserves and managed to conjure a bucket of warm mash for him. I also made sure he was safe around the other side of the hut, sheltered from the constantly whipping wind. He had done a good day’s work and I promised myself he would be rewarded when we got back to my own estate in Hades…whenever that might be.

When I got back into the hut, Gwendolyn was tending to the fire which was already roaring in the hearth. When she heard me come in, she jumped up and turned to face me. She had stopped trembling but now she seemed self-conscious and kept crossing her arms over her bare breasts and crossing her thighs, as though to hide her sex.

“Um…hi.” Her eyes kept wandering to my shaft and I realized the fact that we were both naked was making her nervous.

“Forgive me,” I said wearily. “I will conjure some apparel for both of us presently. But for now, I am at the very limits of my power.”

“Oh, of course. Here, come sit by the fire!”

Taking my arm, she led me to the fireplace and we both settled on the cold, rough stone floor together.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling at her.

“Of course. I’m sorry it’s so hard and cold—there’s a blanket on the bed and I thought about sitting on that but who knows what kind of fleas or lice or whatever it has in it.” She shivered. “I figured a cold butt was better than getting demonic bedbug bites on our asses.”

I saw she was making an effort to overcome her self-consciousness for me which warmed my heart.

“I agree,” I said. “I am very glad to find you well, mon ange.”

“Not half as glad as I am to find out you’re alive!” she exclaimed, turning to me. “How did you do it? That huge demon you killed—Gorlock—said he saw the Skitterlings, uh, finishing you off.”

“So they did,” I said quietly. “I was forced to abandon that form forever in order to appease them.”

“What does that mean, forever?” she asked, frowning.

I sighed. “It means I can never again assume the form of a wyrm—a dragon. I had to give it up and with it, much of my power. I am stripped—laid bare as you see.” I spread my hands, indicating my naked state. “I could not even transfer myself from one spot to another which is normally as easy as breathing to me.”

“Oh, Laish—that’s awful! I’m so sorry!” Her green eyes were wide with remorse. “And all because I stomped on that chipmunk-spider thing.”

“You didn’t know,” I said wearily. “My power will return in time, of course, but for tonight I think it is best that we stay here so that I can recover a bit.”

“But then…how did you get here just in time? If you couldn’t teleport, er, transfer yourself?”

“Kurex,” I told her. “He reached me just as I was abandoning my wyrm form to the Skitterlings. Apparently he also brought me back at a most efficacious time from your point of view as well.”

“You’re not kidding!” She shivered. “That huge demon…what he wanted to do to me to get my soul…” She looked at me. “You never said a, uh, soul could be gotten that way. I thought a soul-hook had to be involved.”

“No, that is simply the most polite way of extracting a soul—if there can be any polite way of doing such an intimate thing.” I frowned. “Remember I told you the process can be sexual. That is because it almost always is.”

“Oh…” She looked down at her knees which were pressed modestly together. “All right. I didn’t know.”

“Now you do.” I sighed and stretched towards the fire. The warmth of it invigorated me, bringing back a little of my power. Closing my eyes, I concentrated and conjured a warm, thick fur rug beneath us.

“Oh!” Gwendolyn gave an awkward little jump at the feeling of fur beneath her bottom. “I thought you were all worn out. How did you—?”

“The warmth of the fire,” I explained. “Because of my nature it helps to restore my power.”

“Well, this is nice.” Gwendolyn stroked the soft, white fur. I had called a rather large rug because after her assessment of the bed I surmised we would be sleeping before the fire that night. She looked at me hopefully. “Can you make me something else? Something, uh, warm to wear?”

I shook my head.

“Give me a few more minutes. Every time I call something from my own estate into another circle it takes a vast amount of energy. “There is one thing I can do, however, which requires a slightly smaller expenditure. Do you still have that leather satchel of yours with your drinking bottle?”

“Of course. I’m a lot more careful to keep hold of it after what happened with the devilkins.” She got up and searched by the door, returning shortly with the familiar leather satchel. Opening it, she took out the plastic water bottle and took a drink. Then she offered it to me. “Are you thirsty?”

“No thank you,” I said, taking the satchel from her. “There is something else I need from it.”

As I rummaged in the satchel, I couldn’t help noticing that the change of clothing she’d brought from the Mortal Realm was soaking wet.

“Gwendolyn?” I said, raising an eyebrow at her and lifting a sodden article of clothing. “What happened?”

“Oh, um…” Her cheeks were getting red and I knew she didn’t want to tell me.

“Gwendolyn?” I asked again.

“I, um, sort of fell into one of the pools,” she admitted in a low voice. “Or, well, I guess you could say I was dragged in.”

“What?” My heart started beating triple time in my chest. “How?”

Her cheeks flamed. “It was just me being stupid and trusting. One of the, uh, lost souls begged me for help and I didn’t think. I went to help her and she tried to drag me down with her. That’s how I got so wet I had to take off my clothes in the first place.” She indicated her bare skin, which looked lovely against the white fur.

“What?” I demanded again. “You went into one of the Drowning Pools? Gods, how did you ever get out again?” It amazed and terrified me, the thought of her slipping beneath the icy surface of one of those deadly pools. They had a kind of pull to them—almost a magnetic force for souls that made escaping from one nearly impossible.

“Kurex,” she said. “The girl—the lost soul—had me by the throat but he kicked her head in and dragged me out by my dress.”

“Oh, mon ange…” I pulled her against my chest. If she only knew how close she’d come to death and eternal damnation! Even seeing the huge demon standing over her threatening to hurt and take her hadn’t frightened me so much. Even I could not have pulled her out of the pool if her head had gone under. Kurex had acted quickly and bravely—I promised myself again that the big horse would have whatever he desired once it was in my power to provide it.

“I guess it was more dangerous than I thought?” Gwendolyn said, looking up at me.

I nodded. “Very. It is extremely fortunate that Kurex was with you and acted as he did.”

“He’s been wonderful,” she agreed. “I wonder…could he live in the Mortal Realm? I’d kind of like to take him with me when this is all over. Although I don’t know what Grams would say about it. He’d probably eat us out of house and home.”

“It is a possibility,” I said, nodding thoughtfully. “But speaking of eating…” I reached back into the satchel and pulled out what I’d been looking for—the plate and black-handled sacrificial knife. I had slipped them into the satchel after our noonday repast in Minauros—a repast which, I remembered, Gwendolyn had not taken part in. This time I was determined she would eat.

Taking the plate, I put it on the fur rug before me and cut into my wrist with the small, sharp blade. The pain was worse than usual—probably because of my weakened state—but I managed to keep my face impassive as I let three drops of blood fall to the plate.

As before, the blood turned to fresh fruit, cheese, and warm, crusty bread. I let another drop fall and several pieces of the confection that humans call chocolate appeared as well. Then I pressed my other hand to my wrist firmly, staunching the flow and willing the small but painful wound to heal.

Gwendolyn had been watching everything I did silently. Now she looked at the plate and then up at me.

“Laish…” she began.

Just then the tiny white lily-moth fluttered down out of the air and lit upon a piece of fresh fruit—a strawberry. Its pure white and gold wings looked lovely against the warm red of the fruit and I saw that it was taking tiny nibbles of the strawberry with apparent hunger.

Gwendolyn’s face broke into a smile.

“Oh, hey little girl!” she exclaimed, crouching down to look at the little moth. “I forgot all about you. You must have had a wild ride, holding onto me after everything that happened today.”

“They are very resilient creatures for all they appear so delicate,” I remarked. “And as I told you, they will rest only upon pure things.”

“I remember.” Gwendolyn picked up a piece of fruit and popped it into her mouth, much to my relief.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

“So now you trust me and the food I offer? Because the moth does?”

“No, I trust you because of everything you’ve gone through for me today.” Gwendolyn’s voice was soft and she looked down at the fruit as she spoke. “And I made a little promise to myself while I was trying to get out of that awful pool that I would listen to you from now on.” She looked up at me. “I was going to eat the food, even before the moth landed on it. I just wanted to apologize first for being so…so stubborn and mean about it earlier.”

“That is all right,” I said, taking one of her slim hands in mine. “I can understand why you feared to trust me.” I raised her hand to my lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her palm.

“Um…” Gwendolyn flushed and drew her hand away.

“I see,” I said softly. “You trust me in some things but not in all.”

“It’s just…it scares me how much…how much I’ve been feeling lately. For you, I mean.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “It’s dangerous.”

“For both of us, mon ange,” I murmured. “More than you know.”

She looked up at me quickly. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I shook my head. How could I tell her that in giving up one of my most powerful forms, I had also given up a piece of my evil? That I had given up a piece of that which made me me? I didn’t want her to feel worried or guilty so I simply picked up a piece of fruit and popped it in her mouth.

“Eat,” I said. “You must be starving.”

“Mmm…I am hungry enough to eat a bear,” she remarked after she swallowed.

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “Well, that can be arranged. I simply thought fruit and cheese would be more to your liking. But if you wish—”

“No, no!” She was laughing now, a genuine laugh that bubbled up from inside her and seemed to warm me even more than the fire. “It’s an expression,” she explained. “Something Grams says sometimes.”

“Oh, well…” I shrugged. “That’s fine. But just know that if you wish for something in particular to eat or drink, I can accommodate your request.”

“How do you do it, anyway?” she asked, taking a bite of cheese. “I mean, how can you make things to eat out of your own blood?”

“It is one of my powers—to be able to use the essence of what I am to make other things.”

“And what are you?” Gwendolyn asked quietly, taking another bite. “Why is your blood red, not black like all the other demons and creatures I’ve seen here? You said you weren’t always as you are now—what were you before, Laish?”

“That need not concern you,” I told her, looking away. “For I am not what I was before and I can never be again.”

“You sound sad about that,” she said softly. “Wistful, almost.”

“Do I?” It tried to laugh but the sound that came out was harsh and cynical. “I think you are reading too much into my words, Gwendolyn.”

“Am I?” She sounded thoughtful. “I don’t know about that.”

I didn’t like being put on the defensive—didn’t like being made to feel so many tender emotions when before I’d met her the strongest feeling I’d had was of everlasting boredom. She had come into my life and forced me to feel things—forced me to care. It was irritating in the extreme sometimes—especially since I still couldn’t figure out why I cared so much for her.

“You needn’t concern yourself with my past,” I said coolly. “I prefer not to talk about it but if you wish to disclose secrets I will gladly tell you mine when you tell me yours. Who do you wish to punish with your spell, Gwendolyn? Who was he and what did he do to you and those you love?”

Her face closed at once and she scooted away from me.

“Never you mind about that—it’s my business.”

“And my past is mine,” I said, shortly. “Now perhaps you should try to get some rest. We still have a tiring journey ahead of us tomorrow.”

“So we’ll be back on the road?” she asked neutrally. “I thought you needed time to rest and get back your power.”

“A night of rest should restore me quite a lot,” I replied. “I will soon be at full strength again—it helps that the next circle we are going to pass through is my home.”

“It is?” Her eyes widened. “Are we going to go by your house?”

I shook my head. “My estate, as I told you, is in Hades. When we pass the next barrier, we will be entering the City of Dis which is about five hundred leagues away.”

Gwendolyn shifted uncomfortably.

“About the barrier…”

“You need not concern yourself with it now,” I told her. “We are close enough to break it here but we do not need to. Wait until tomorrow and we will find another way for you to pay the Sin Tax. One that does not involve me touching you, as I know you dislike that.”

“It’s not that I dislike it, you know that,” she protested. “It just feels…dangerous.”

To say the honest truth, it felt dangerous to me as well. As a demon of lust I should be able to take my pleasure with her and think nothing of it. Yet I found myself affected by her innocence. Her pleasure in my touch undid me in ways I did not fully understand.

“I am not offended,” I said. “I understand why you want to keep your distance—to keep your innocence. And in the spirit of that…” Summoning some of my slowly returning power, I conjured a long silk nightdress for her and some black satin sleeping trousers for myself as well.

“Oh, thank you!” Gwendolyn eagerly pulled the dress on. It was deep green and looked lovely with her eyes.

“I will conjure you some pillows as well,” I promised. “I thought you could sleep before the fire tonight as the bed doesn’t seem to be to your liking.”

“You’re right about that.” She shivered. “In front of the fire will be fine.”

“Very well.” I called a fluffy goose down pillow to me and handed it to her. “Sweet dreams, Gwendolyn.”

She bit her lip, that habit she had when uncertain of something.

“You’re not, uh, joining me?”

“As I told you before, demons have no need of sleep,” I said. “And considering that you wish to keep your distance, I think it better that I watch over you from here.” I took a seat at the table on one of the crude wooden stools.

“Oh. All right.” Strangely, she sounded disappointed. Why would she, though? After all, she was the one who wished to keep me at an arm’s length—I was making that very easy for her. I couldn’t fathom why she should be upset that I would be spending the night away from her.

“Good night, Gwendolyn,” I murmured, conjuring her a blanket. It appeared and draped over her softly curving form. I hoped it would keep her warm since I could not do it myself.

“Good night, Laish,” she whispered and was still, her face turned to the fire, her eyes closed.

For a long while I watched the play of firelight and shadows over her high cheekbones and lovely face. She was not asleep—I could tell that. But she was pretending, either for my benefit or her own. So I simply sat and watched, wishing I could caress her as the firelight did, wishing to kiss her…to hold her…to bring her pleasure.

And yet I could not. Nor could I even say why I wanted to in the first place.

Chapter Twenty-four

Gwendolyn

It took a long time to drift off. I could feel Laish watching me and I couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking. I knew what I was thinking though—it was all about him. All about Laish.

He’d gotten so defensive earlier when I’d asked him about his past—I’d never heard him sound like that before. He was always so calm and amused and above it all. So cool and collected. Yet when I asked what he really was he’d snapped at me and pretty much told me to mind my own business. Then he’d turned it around on me, asking about the revenge spell I wanted to work and I’d snapped right back. That was what he’d wanted of course—to take the spotlight off himself and turn it on me. But why?

And why did I care? I told myself his past was none of my business—that it was no big deal he was sitting at the table while I slept by myself on the fur rug in front of the fire. But I couldn’t quite make myself believe it.

For the awful few hours when I’d believed he was dead or at least gone forever beyond my reach, I’d missed him terribly. Though I hardly admitted it to myself, I had felt completely bereft and not just because I had no idea how I’d get through Hell without him. When he’d saved me from the demon and I fell sobbing into his arms there was a feeling of comfort and safety…of coming home. Why was that?

“You love him,” breathed a soft voice in my ear.

No, I don’t—of course I don’t, I told myself firmly. I could never be that stupid—could never give my heart to a demon. Grams raised me better than that.

But if that was true, why was it so hard to lie here, pretending to sleep when all I wanted was to jump up and run to him? Why did I long for his kiss and the comfort of his arms wrapped around me, the feel of his big, strong body pressed against mine?

It took everything I could not to go to him or call him to me but somehow I remained alone on the rug.

Just relax, I told myself sternly. It’s been a long, long day. Try and get some sleep and things will look better in the morning. It was what Grams always told me and it was almost always true.

I opened my eyes just a slit and stared into the fire where the flames were burning lower now. The soft crackle and pop of the wood burning and the hypnotic flicker of light and shadow finally overcame my restless mind. I was able to give in to exhaustion and at last I slept.

~~~

I don’t know if it was falling asleep in front of the fire or the awful, stressful events I’d been through that brought on the dream. I only knew that one minute I was lying safe and warm before the fireplace and the next I was crammed into the small, dark closet with my sister Keisha, looking through the crack at the fire demon and listening to my mother’s screams.

“Mamma…Mamma, no—Mamma please come back! Please be all right! Don’t hurt her! Don’t you hurt my Mamma!”

The screams continued mixed with the high, evil laughter and the frightened sobbing of my little sister. I felt the tremendous heat pushing against the door like a huge, flaming hand trying to get in…smelled the choking stench of smoke…heard the fire engines in the distance coming to save us but too late…too late…

“Please,” I begged. “Please don’t hurt her—please just let her be all right…”

“Gwendolyn? Gwendolyn!”

Someone was shaking my shoulder and speaking low and urgently in my ear—calling my name, calling me out of the dream and into reality.

“Gwendolyn…mon ange…It’s all right. Everything is all right. It’s just a dream…a bad dream.”

A dream…I’m having the dream again, I thought, still foggy and disorientated. I haven’t had it in so long—years…

“Gwendolyn?” Laish said again and I opened my eyes to see him kneeling beside me, a look of concern on his face.

“Laish…” I reached for him blindly and he took me in his arms.

“What is it, mon ange?” he murmured. “What is this dream that torments you so?”

“My mother.” I heard the choking in my voice and tried not to cry—I hated looking weak in front of him again. But the dream had been so vivid—so real…

“What happened to your mother, mon ange? You never told me.”

“She was killed.” I choked again and wiped my eyes quickly. “When her spell went wrong.”

“What went wrong with it?” The fire had sunk to embers now and in its soft red glow his ruby eyes looked almost golden.

“I…she…” I was too tired and disorientated to lie. “She called a fire demon,” I admitted at last. “And it turned on her. Burned her and set our house on fire. Keisha and I were hiding in the closet, watching when it happened. We nearly died too but the firemen saved us. Not my mother though…Mamma…” I felt a soft sob escape me and looked away. “It was too late for her. That…that was how she died.”

Understanding dawned on his face.

“No wonder you feared me more after you found out my true nature.”

“Yeah, well…” I pushed back from his embrace and swiped at my eyes again. “I guess that wasn’t very fair of me. You can’t judge a whole people by one individual.”

“Actually, in this case you can,” he said mildly. “I would bet almost anything that the kind of demon your mother called for her spell was a Fire Imp—a demon made entirely of the stuff of the Lake of Fire. They are mindless creatures bent only on death and destruction.”

“So…there’s more than one kind of fire demon?” I frowned uncertainly. “You’re sure about that?”

“Positive,” he said dryly. “I am, after all, the second kind.”

“Which is different how exactly?” I asked.

“I draw my strength from the Lake of Fire because I was baptized in it when I was first cast down,” he said. “But I am not made of it.”

Cast down from where? I wanted to ask but remembering his earlier defensiveness, I bit my tongue.

“So Mamma—my mother—was unlucky enough to get the wrong kind of fire demon when she did her spell?”

“Unlucky or unknowledgeable. Calling anything demonic to you is very dangerous, as I am sure you know. You are opening a doorway—opening yourself –to dark forces when you call upon one of my kind.”

“I know,” I whispered. “That was why I was specifically trying for a lesser or minor demon when I first did the spell that you answered.”

“And yet, you got me instead. For when you open a door, you cannot always be sure who or what will come through it.”

His words made me remember the door I’d opened onto the Abyss and the HellSpawn that had come through. The HellSpawn that was no doubt hot on my trail right now. For the first time it really hit home with me how foolish—how reckless I’d been. And yet, I still would do it again. Taylor was my friend—I wasn’t sorry I’d called her back from the edge of death—I just wished I’d been more careful when I was doing it.

Laish seemed to take my silence for calmness. He brushed my cheek lightly with his knuckles and sat up.

“You should try to get more sleep. It is hours yet before dawn.”

He started to get up but I reached for him—I couldn’t help it.

“Wait…” I put a hand on his bare, muscular arm. “Please…stay with me. Hold me a little while longer.”

A change came over his face—a more open look than I’d seen since our disastrous discussion over dinner.

“Do you truly wish me to?”

“You know I do.” I tugged on him a little. “I wanted you to earlier but…well, I didn’t know how to ask.”

“Simply ask, mon ange,” he murmured, a small, amused smile quirking one corner of his sensuous mouth. I am yours for the asking at any time.”

“I’m asking now,” I told him. “Hold me.”

“As my lady wishes,” he said, his deep voice amused. Lying down beside me again, he took me in his arms and held me close.

I pressed close to him, just as I had when he had first rescued me from the demon. I nuzzled my head under his chin and pressed my cheek to his broad, warm chest. His dark spice and cinnamon scent filled my nose and it smelled like safety and comfort and home. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I sighed contentedly. This was better—it was what I had wanted all along. And while I knew I was being weak, giving in to the impulse to snuggle with him didn’t seem wrong or dangerous—it felt good. Felt wonderful and safe and right.

I pressed even closer to him and suddenly something hot and hard was nudging against my belly.

“Oh!” I bit my lip.

“Forgive me.” Laish started to move away. “Though I am a Prince of Night and Shadows, I am still male. With all my power I cannot help the way my body reacts to yours, Gwendolyn.”

I couldn’t help the way mine reacted to him either. Already I could feel my nipples growing tight and my pussy getting wet, just from being close to him and smelling that warm, cinnamon musk. Not to mention feeling his big, warm body pressing against mine.

Suddenly I had an idea.

“Wait…” I reached for him when he would have moved away. “I want to try something.”

“What?” He frowned at me inquiringly.

“This.” I pushed at his broad shoulder until he lay on his back.

“What exactly do you have in mind, mon ange?” he murmured, his eyes glowing red and gold in the dim light.

“Paying the Sin Tax,” I told him. “But this time I want to be in charge. I want to explore you the way you explored me.”

“Is that right?” A little grin played around his sensual lips and he put his hands behind his head, leaving himself completely open to me. “Well then, by all means, Gwendolyn, be my guest.”

What are you doing? screamed a little voice in the back of my head. I thought you decided not to touch him again or let him touch you! It’s dangerous—you know it is!

And yet, it didn’t feel dangerous—or not as dangerous as it probably should have.

I’m going to be in charge this time, I told myself, stroking the broad, bare planes of his chest and letting my fingers trail across his muscular abs. I say what we do and how far we go—that way it’s safe.

“Safe,” Laish echoed my thought aloud.

“Are you reading my mind?” I asked, addressing it directly for the first time. “Is that it? Can you hear everything I’m thinking?”

“I only catch snippets—things you’re thinking very loudly. And only when we are close or touching,” he assured me. “Right now you’re thinking that it will be safe to touch me as long as you are in charge.”

“That’s right,” I admitted. “How do you feel about that?”

“It is perfectly fine with me. If this is what it takes to make you feel safe with me, I will gladly give you the power.” He nodded down at himself. “Go on—touch me, Gwendolyn. Tease me…take me. Do what you wish with me—I am yours.”

I liked his words—liked the feeling of power they gave me. Here he was—an incredibly powerful demon, strong enough to kill me with a single word. Yet he was making himself vulnerable to me—opening himself in a way that made me want to explore him…to know him better in every way.

Feeling daring, I let my hand wander lower to the crotch of his black satin sleep trousers. The hard ridge of his cock was outlined against the silky fabric. I cupped it in my hand, liking the feel of its heat and hardness in my palm.

Laish groaned softly and pressed up against my touch, giving himself to me freely, begging silently for more. And I wanted to give him more—to give him what he’d given me the night before.

I’d never gone this far with anyone ever—it felt too dangerous, too likely to end in disaster. But Laish was no high school or college boy, so eager to get laid they would lose control at the drop of a hat. He had years of experience and maturity—I knew I could do what I liked with him and he would let me without expecting anything in return.

Slipping my hand into the waistband of his trousers, I grasped his naked shaft in my hand.

“Gods, Gwendolyn,” Laish murmured hoarsely. “Your little hand is so soft and warm.”

“I’m glad you like it,” I said, a little breathlessly. I stroked his rigid length up and down, trying to fit my fingers around his thick shaft and failing. I liked the feel of him—the way he was so hot and hard and soft all at the same time. His skin was silky, like rose petals, and he throbbed in my hand, pulsing with pleasure—pleasure I was giving him.

“Yes, the pleasure of your little hand on me is very great,” he murmured, once more answering my thought.

“I’m glad you like it,” I said softly. “I like it too. In fact, I want to see it.” I pushed at the waistband of the black satin trousers.

Laish lifted his lean hips obligingly and let me slide them down to his muscular thighs. His cock sprang free and for the first time I allowed myself to really look at it.

It was big—really big but not in a disproportionate way. All the other demons I’d seen on this trip had been monstrous. Laish was just right—well, on the large side of just right, anyway.

I took him in my hand again, liking the way he fit in my palm. I stroked him up and down, enjoying the soft groan I drew from his lips.

“I want to make you come,” I told him, looking up at him. “Will that pay the Sin Tax, do you think?”

“There is only one way to find out.” He thrust up into my hand. “Do as you like with me.”

His words of submission gave me an erotic charge. I liked this—liked it a Hell of a lot. But there was something else I wanted to try.

Lifting myself on one elbow, I bent over his sculpted torso.

“Gwendolyn?” he murmured as I let my hair tickle him. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you up on your offer.” I looked up and flashed him a naughty little smile. “I’m exploring you—is that all right?”

“Of course. Do whatever you like.” His eyes glowed as he watched me.

Still holding his gaze, I leaned down and rubbed his shaft against my cheek. It was silky and hot and I liked the way his scent was intensified here—warm cinnamon and dark spice filling my senses and made me feel drunk with need. I liked the way Laish was looking at me…liked the way his eyes were half-lidded with pleasure as I rubbed my cheek against him.

“Mmm, I like your scent,” I told him, rubbing some more.

“I enjoy yours as well, mon ange. I love the sweet smell of your pussy when you become aroused…as you are now.” His eyes flashed.

I felt my cheeks burning. I knew how hot and wet I was but could he really tell? Could he really smell my arousal?

“Of course I can,” he murmured. “All my senses are heightened—especially when you touch me. It makes me want to bury my face between your legs and kiss you…to lick your honey right from the source. I am certain you would taste as delicious as you smell.”

His words sent a shiver of desire down my spine and my pussy throbbed in response. But I also felt a tingle of fear. Too much—too far! whispered the little voice in my brain.

“I…I’m not ready to let you do that,” I said in a low voice. “I don’t know if I ever will be.”

“You mean you are not ready to give up that much control. I understand.” Laish nodded. “Maybe sometime in the future.”

I didn’t know about that but I did know his words had given me an idea.

“I want to try something else,” I said. “I’m not ready to let you, uh, taste me but I do want to taste you. But will your…will it burn me?”

I was thinking of the acid-like precum I’d seen dripping from the other demon’s shaft—the one Laish had killed to save me.

He shook his head.

“No. But you do not have to—”

“I want to,” I said. “I’ve never…never done this before. And I always wondered.”

“Explore to your heart’s content then, mon petite chat,” he murmured, a little smile curling the corner of his mouth.

“I will.” Hesitantly, I pressed my mouth to the side of his shaft, just under the broad, flaring head. I parted my lips just a little and let my tongue dart out to taste him.

Salty…spicy…wild. That was how he tasted. And I knew I wanted more.

You shouldn’t do this. This is wrong—it’s really bad! cried the little voice in my head. But for once I ignored it. I had to pay the Sin Tax anyway, I reasoned. I might as well enjoy myself while I did it.

Daringly, I pressed the flat of my tongue to the side of his shaft and licked upward, like I was licking an ice cream cone.

Laish groaned and I felt his big body tense as I licked him again. Mmm, I really liked the hot, wild taste of him! But I wanted more. In the dying light of the embers, I saw a small bead of precum shining on the tip of his cock—I wanted to taste that too.

Lifting up a little, I dragged my tongue over the broad head, capturing the little droplet and savoring it. It was salty and hot and it made me feel incredibly free and powerful to taste it.

“Gods, Gwendolyn, your sweet mouth…” The low moan dragged from Laish’s throat only added to my heady sense of power. Oh yes, I liked being the one in charge—liked it a lot. It made me feel so hot—so amazingly turned on. My nipples were so tight they almost hurt and my pussy was pure liquid at that point. And still I wanted more.

I took him in my hand again and began to pump up and down, letting his thick shaft slide through my fingers as I licked the broad head.

He gave a low passionate curse as he helped me, thrusting up into my hand, meeting every stroke with one of his own.

“Ah, Gods, Gwendolyn…so good…your little hand…your hot tongue…”

I looked up and saw he was watching me, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure and lust. Another surge of desire coursed through me as I stroked him.

“That’s right, baby,” I purred. “I’m going to make you come.”

He threw back his head, every muscle in his big body straining for release.

“Yes, take me, mon ange,” he gasped hoarsely. “Make me come…I am yours.”

With that I felt his shaft grow even thicker and harder in my hand and then he was pulsing, pumping out a fountain of hot, white cream that coated my hand and his cock and belly. Goddess, it was everywhere but somehow I didn’t mind. I liked the way he felt, coming in my hand—liked the look of almost pained pleasure on his darkly handsome face. But most of all I liked the feeling of doing what I wanted for once instead of shying away and denying my desire.

As well as being pleasurable, my actions had the desired effect. As Laish came, giving himself to me completely, I felt the now familiar ripple in the air around us and knew I had done it.

I had paid the Sin Tax and broken the barrier into the fifth circle of Hell.

* * * * *

Laish

It took me a while to gather myself. I confess, Gwendolyn’s soft touch and sweet tongue on me almost undid me. In all the long, barren, joyless years I had been condemned to Hell, I’d had countless women—I am, after all, a demon of lust. But none of them had stirred me like she did. Even the most skillful touch could not rouse me as my little witch’s innocent, inexperienced explorations did.

As I came, giving in to the pleasure, I felt my power return. Fire is not my only source of energy and the intense emotions of longing and desire Gwendolyn was experiencing fed me as surely as my blood had fed her earlier.

For a long moment I lay there panting, reveling in the afterglow of pleasure. Then I became aware that Gwendolyn was stirring.

“Um…” She appeared to be looking around for something.

“What is it, mon ange?” I was concerned that she might already be regretting her actions. But as it turned out, that was not the case—not yet, anyway.

“I’m just looking for a cloth or something,” she confessed, sounding a bit embarrassed. “You, uh, made kind of a lot of, uh, cum and it’s sort of all over.”

“Oh, of course…” Now that I was at full strength again, the situation was easily remedied. I took care of the matter with a wave of my hand.

“Oh!” She looked down at her hand and then at my belly, seemingly surprised. “It’s all gone. I thought you were still recuperating.”

“I am feeling much stronger now.” Reaching up, I drew her back down beside me. She came willingly enough and put her head on my chest. But I sensed restlessness in her—her desire had not been quenched.

“Laish…” She twisted in my arms, pressing her thighs together restively.

“Gwendolyn,” I replied, pulling her closer. Slowly, gauging her reaction, I slid one hand down her body. She stiffened and bit back a gasp when I tweaked her nipples gently and then gave a little moan when I came to the spot between her thighs.

“Laish,” she protested again when I lifted her night dress and cupped her hot little cunt in my hand. But she didn’t try to pull away.

“You’re still hungry, mon ange,” I murmured in her ear. “Why don’t you let me ease your desire as you eased mine?”

“We shouldn’t,” she whispered breathlessly as I spread her thighs. “We…we already paid the Sin Tax.”

“Yes, but why must everything we do be only for business?” I asked reasonably. “Why not allow me to give you pleasure just for the sake of pleasure?” I was trailing my fingers lightly over the outer lips of her sex as I spoke. Feeling her tremble at my light, teasing touch made my shaft hard all over again.

“Because…because we should only do what we have to do.” But she didn’t sound at all certain.

“I am not asking you to do anything we haven’t already done before,” I pointed out as I slipped my fingers into the soft, secret folds of her pussy. Gods, she was wet! Wet and hot and so ready—I wanted badly to make her come if only she would let me.

“That…that’s the trick the Devil always uses,” she whispered. “Grams said he always says, ‘It won’t hurt to do it just once.’ And after that he says, ‘You already did it once—might as well do it again.’”

“Well, I am a demon. But what if it is no trick? What if I simply want to bring you pleasure because I care for you?” I murmured, circling the swollen bud of her clit gently with one fingertip. The light, gentle touch seemed to make her wild. She moaned softly and bucked under my seeking fingers.

“Laish, please…”

“Please, what, mon ange?” I sensed she was close—her hips were moving, grinding restlessly against my hand. Taking a chance, I slipped two fingers deep inside her virgin depths and continued the gentle caress around her clit with my thumb.

“Oh…oh!” she moaned as I filled her. “Oh, Laish…please!”

I knew what please meant and it wasn’t that she wanted me to withdraw. Leaning down, I took her mouth in a hungry kiss, ravaging her lips and sucking her tongue as I stroked into her with my fingers. She was close…so close and I was as determined to make her come as she had been to make me lose control earlier.

“Come for me,” I growled at last, pulling back and looking into her eyes. “Come with my name on your lips. Come as you look into my eyes and know that I want your pleasure as much as you wanted mine.” With these words, I pressed even deeper inside her, stroking hard with my thumb.

It was what she needed to send her over the edge. Her eyes widened and her back arched and then I felt her inner walls trembling and spasming around my invading fingers.

“Oh…Oh, Laish,” she moaned brokenly, just as I had hoped she would. Hearing my name from her lush lips and feeling her pussy clench around me made me so hard I felt as though I’d never come myself. Gods, she was lovely when she finally let go…when she finally trusted me enough to give herself completely.

I wondered if she would ever give herself to me in another way.

At last her quivering stopped and I withdrew my fingers. In the fading glow of the embers, they were shiny with her juices.

“Oh, uh…” Gwendolyn still sounded breathless and a little embarrassed. “I guess you’d better do your trick and make everything all nice and neat again.”

“I think not,” I said. “As if I would miss a chance to taste your honey.” Locking my eyes with hers, I sucked my fingers into my mouth and savored her sweet, salty flavor. It was delicious and utterly addictive. I wished I could spend hours between her legs, lapping her pussy long and slow, licking away her sweet juices and then urging her to make more. I wanted to make her come with my mouth, not just my fingers. But I sensed she was not yet ready for that.

She was watching me wide eyed as I finished cleaning my fingers.

“You really do like it, huh?”

“I have told you that I do. Shall I clean you up as well?” I motioned down at her inner thighs which were still shiny with her juices.

“Oh!” She seemed to remember she was lying there, exposed. Hastily, she started to close her legs. I put a hand on her knee to stop her.

“Wait, Gwendolyn—only let me lick your inner thighs. I swear my tongue will not stray too far. Please?” I wanted to show her that I could be trusted…that I could be gentle. And I also wanted to get her used to the feeling of me between her thighs.

“Well…” She bit her lip uncertainly.

“I swear I will not taste your pussy tonight,” I told her quietly. “I only want to clean you up a little and savor your taste a bit more.”

“I shouldn’t but…I guess if you promise only to lick my thighs…”

“I swear it.” I was already moving down her body, nuzzling her as I went. I loved her sweet curves and the shine of firelight against her warm brown skin. Spread out on the white fur rug she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

When at last I got between her thighs, I took things slowly. I didn’t want to spook her or put her off. Gently, slowly, I lapped her inner thighs clean. True to my word I didn’t go near her pussy, although I did pay extra attention to the crease where her leg joined her torso on each side. I knew she could feel my hot breath blowing against her sex—that was enough for now.

My little witch was tense at first…then slowly, she relaxed. I glanced up and saw her watching me with wide eyes, taking in the slow way I was lapping her thighs. Good, I wanted her to remember this erotic picture…wanted it to be uppermost in her mind when she thought of me. Soon, very soon I meant to taste her honey right from the source but for now I must content myself with giving her a long, leisurely tongue bath.

I cleaned her thoroughly, unwilling to stop until she made me. To my delight, my little witch lay there trembling beneath my gentle assault for a very long time before she called a halt to our activities.

“Laish, I think I’m, uh, all cleaned up now. You can stop,” she whispered.

“As you wish.”

I kissed her once more on each thigh before I pulled her night dress demurely down and slid back up to hold her.

“Thank you,” I murmured in her ear.

“For what?” Her voice sounded breathless. “You’re the one who was doing all the work.”

“Not work, pleasure,” I corrected her gently. “And I thank you for trusting me again. After all that has happened it means a great deal to me.”

She gave an uncertain little laugh. “I’m still not sure I do, you know.”

But I knew she did—now more than ever. And my heart swelled at the knowledge.

Chapter Twenty-five

Gwendolyn

“So it’s not far to the next border?” I looked out at the dismal gray sky swirling with snow.

“Not far.” Laish seemed more like himself today. He’d made me breakfast that morning—pancakes and bacon at my request—and then conjured us both some warm clothing to wear. Clothing he promised to replace once we’d crossed the barrier and entered the City of Dis.

Not that I was anxious to get rid of the gorgeous fur coat he’d given me. Yes, I know fur is murder but Laish had promised me it wasn’t made from any animal that lived in the Mortal Realm. Although what kind of creature lived in Hell and had such gorgeous, soft fur I had no idea.

The coat came down to my knees and was pure white with silver tips around the collar and sleeves. I stroked it gently, loving the incredibly soft feel of it. My little white lily-moth—whom I’d finally gotten around to naming Eryn since she seemed to be with me to stay—could barely be seen on my shoulder against the whiteness.

“You approve of my taste this time at least, I see,” Laish remarked, smiling a little as we left the hut.

“It is beautiful,” I admitted, following him around the side to where Kurex was finishing the breakfast of hot oats Laish had conjured him. “I’ll be sorry to see it go once we cross the border.”

“You need not lose it forever,” he remarked, patting the big horse’s nose. “I can have it sent to your home in the Mortal Realm.”

“Where would I ever wear it?” I asked, practically. “I live in Florida, remember? We get like two semi-chilly months a year. The rest is all ninety degree heat and humidity.”

“A pity,” he said, checking the girth—at least, I think that’s what the strap thing that holds the saddle on the horse is called. “You look lovely in it.”

“Anybody would—it’s a gorgeous coat,” I said. “But why white again?”

“Pardon?” He raised an eyebrow at me as he helped me climb aboard Kurex who snorted and stamped in the snow.

“Why did you make it white fur? And the rug we, uh slept on too. Why always white? Is the only kind of fur animal they have down here albino or what?”

He looked up as he settled me on the horse and gave me a slow smile.

“I suppose I just like the contrast with your lovely brown skin. I cannot help remembering how beautiful you looked, lying naked on the white fur last night.”

“Laish…” I protested, feeling my cheeks burn despite the cold wind whipping around us.

“What is it, mon ange?” he said, swinging lightly up behind me and taking Kurex’s reins. “Do you wish to forget about the time we spent together last night? Do you wish to pretend that it never happened?”

“I…don’t know,” I confessed as Laish urged the big horse forward onto the road only he and Kurex could see. “I should want that, I guess.”

“But you don’t.” His voice in my ear was low and intimate. “You don’t wish to forget the pleasure we brought each other. Do you?”

“I guess not,” I whispered. It was wrong and I knew it. I shouldn’t dwell on what we’d done the night before. After all, we’d only done it in order to pay the Sin Tax.

The first time, yes, whispered a snarky little voice in my head. But the second time—there was no excuse for that. Letting him touch you and make you come again—that was just for you. Just for pleasure.

I tried to push the guilt out of my mind. The voice sounded disturbingly like Grams and I knew well enough what she’d think of what I’d been doing with Laish last night.

I’ll be careful, I told myself uneasily. I won’t go too far—I won’t!

I just hoped I could keep the promise I’d made to myself.

We rode in silence for about an hour and then we came to the entrance of a long, dark tunnel. Strangely enough, it had nothing on either side of it. It wasn’t set into the side of a mountain as the Jealous Heart had been—it was just a big cylinder made of some dull ivory colored material. Also it was perfectly circular and ribbed at intervals with thick circular supports of the same color. Really, what it reminded me of most was those long collapsible tubes you can get for your kids to crawl through and play in at Ikea. Only this tube was huge—easily big enough for us to ride through while seated on Kurex. Not that I wanted to.

“Oh, no!” I gripped Kurex’s mane hard at the sight of the tunnel’s mouth. “Please tell me we can ride around that and we don’t have to go through it.”

“Alas, we must go through it, I fear. There is no other way,” Laish said calmly.

“But there’s nothing on either side of it—why can’t we just ride around?”

“Because the Tunnel of Sighs is the only entrance to the City of Dis. And it is where the barrier between the fourth and fifth circle is located. There is no other way through.”

“Well at least tell me it’s not filled with Skitterlings or something worse,” I said.

“You have nothing to fear,” Laish said reassuringly. “There are no Skitterlings here—only ghosts.”

“What?” I half turned in the saddle so I could look at him. “What do you mean only ghosts?”

He gave me an annoying little grin.

“Well, they are not ghosts per say—only the voices of ghosts,” he said. “Some say that they hear the words of dead loved ones or other voices from their past as they pass through the tunnel. I must warn you, Gwendolyn, it can be quite disturbing.”

“I bet,” I muttered. “But you say there’s no way around it?”

“I am afraid not.”

“And you’re sure there are no mutant spider things anywhere inside?”

“Positive.”

“Well then…” I sighed. “Let’s just get through it.”

“As you wish. And remember, no matter what the voices say to you, they cannot hurt you.” He looped an arm firmly around my waist and dug his heels into Kurex’s sides. “Here we go.”

“Here we go,” I echoed him, trying to brace for the worst.

I held his arm tightly as Kurex entered the almost perfectly circular entrance of the tunnel. Once inside, his hooves echoed oddly against the curved walls. They made a strange meaty thunk, thunk, thunk instead of the tapping or clattering sound I’d expected. Weird.

But soon I had other things to listen to besides the horse’s hooves. There was a wind in the tunnel—it swooped and swirled and blew my hair around my face. And in the wind were the voices…

“Gwendolyn, child, what are you doing with your life? whispered a familiar voice in my ear. Why have you been giving yourself to that demon when you know you have to stay pure? Stay pure to stay strong…stay pure to stay protected…”

“I’m trying, Grams,” I whispered, feeling hot and uncomfortable in the fur coat. “I swear I’m trying.”

Then the wind changed.

“Gwendy,” whispered a voice I hadn’t heard in ages. Gwendy, he’s got me and he won’t let me go! I don’t want to be with those men—the ones he sends to me. But he says if I don’t, he’ll cut me off. I can’t help it, Gwendy, I’m so sorry…

“Keisha!” I knew it was a trick of the tunnel but I couldn’t help looking around for the source of the soft, sighing voice. Was she here? Had my baby sister somehow been transported to Hell?

“The voices are not real,” Laish murmured in my ear. “Nothing you hear is real, Gwendolyn.”

“Okay, right.” I nodded and tried to keep the tears that had gathered in my eyes from falling. Goddess, I missed my little sister so much. Even hearing what I knew was a fake of her voice made me long to take her in my arms and hold her close—to save her and comfort her.

The wind changed again and this time it spoke in a deep, masculine voice.

“Laish,” it murmured. “Laish, my brother, you are sorely missed in the celestial circles. Why did you forsake the Heavens? Why did you give up everything for the sake of pride?”

I turned my head to glance at Laish and see what he thought about this but his face was a stony, impenetrable mask. It was impossible to say if the voice was bothering him or not.

“Ignore it, Gwendolyn,” he said, staring straight ahead. “We will be through the tunnel soon.”

I supposed he must hear the same thing every time he had to come to the City of Dis this way. Maybe he had gotten used to it over all the millennia since he’d ended up in Hell. I was beginning to have an idea of what must have happened to him but I didn’t want to ask outright since he’d gotten so defensive the night before. Maybe soon we could talk about it though.

“Gwendolyn, listen to me. Please listen, my friend!”

I frowned. The new voice sounded different somehow—less hollow and windy. In fact it almost sounded real, like someone was whispering right in my ear. Still, I tried to ignore it as Laish had said. It would do no good to get myself all worked up for nothing. But the soft little voice persisted.

“It’s so hard to get you to hear me, but here in the tunnel it’s possible if you’ll only listen,” it went on. “I’m trapped here—he stole me away and he’s kept me here in this awful place for so long. Please help me! Please!”

Who could it be? It didn’t sound like any voice from my past—at least, not anyone I could remember. Although it did seem strangely familiar. Almost like something I’d heard in a dream.

“If you could make a spell…find a way to set me free…just let me leave this terrible place. I’m so afraid he’ll catch me and bring me back and I can’t stay like this forever. Please!”

I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I’m—” the little voice began. But just then we finally reached the end of the tunnel. Kurex cantered out of it and onto a road that seemed to be made of cobblestones. His hooves clattered loudly against the new pavement and the little voice was lost.

“Who were you speaking to?” Laish asked me. “I told you the voices are only imaginary.”

“Yes, but that last one was different,” I said. “I almost felt like I’d heard it before but it wasn’t anyone from my past that I recognized. It was…strange.”

“I heard no one after the last voice that was meant for me.” He sounded like he was frowning.

“You didn’t hear it? That’s weird.”

I shook my head, my hair brushing against the collar of my fur coat. The movement must have startled Eryn, my little moth, because she fluttered up from my shoulder and hovered in front of my face for a moment, her little wings beating in wild agitation.

“Oh, sorry little girl,” I told her, trying to make my voice soothing. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Just settle back down on my shoulder. We’re safe here.”

“As safe as you are likely to be anywhere in the Infernal Realm, anyway,” Laish said as the moth settled reluctantly back on my shoulder. “This is, after all, my dominion. Yet that which seeks you is relentless. We must still exercise caution, even here.”

I knew he was talking about the HellSpawn and it made me shiver.

“All right,” I said whole heartedly. “I’ll do whatever you say to stay safe.” I’d had more than enough near misses lately—I swore to myself I’d listen to Laish’s advice and do as he said.

“It’s good to know you’re finally willing to be attentive,” he said dryly.

“I just don’t want to get killed or have my soul sucked out before I can close that damn door and get back home,” I told him.

We paused for a moment to climb off Kurex and change since the winter things Laish had given me that morning were now much too hot. There was no one in sight in either direction but I still changed quickly, taking off the warm clothing he’d given me and putting on a much lighter garment that reminded me of a sundress with short sleeves. It was deep purple and looked good against my skin.

Laish changed as well with a wave of his hand, putting himself back into an immaculate black suit that wouldn’t have looked out of place on Wall Street. I noticed that instead of making my old winter clothes vanish he tucked them carefully into one of Kurex’s saddle bags. Except for the coat, that was.

“I believe you wished to keep this?” he asked, handing it to me after he’d helped me up into the saddle again.

“Thank you.” I stroked the soft fur gratefully. It might be silly but I had decided I did want to keep it—even if I would never have a chance to wear it at home. It was simply too pretty to leave behind.

“You’re very welcome, Gwendolyn.” Laish swung up behind me and we resumed our journey.

The road was leading into a city now—or was it a town? The cobbled streets were crowded but not with the horrible looking creatures I’d seen in the crowds at Baator. Oh, some of them were clearly demons but many were just people and they were almost all dressed in long, scholarly robes. Also, none of them was doing anything obviously horrible or illegal. I didn’t see any prostitutes or anyone selling body parts (I had seen both those things and worse in Baator.) Instead, everyone seemed to be going about their business with serious looks on their faces. The traffic in the streets was brisk but remarkably quiet.

“What’s the deal with this place?” I asked, looking around. “How come nobody’s being horrible to anyone else or trying to kill or rob or rape anyone?”

“The fifth circle is for narcissists, self-centered individuals, and intellectuals,” Laish answered. “Those who were either too wrapped up in their own pursuits and vanity to seek the Creator, or those who willfully denied his existence and his role in the universe.”

“What—like atheists?” I asked, frowning.

“Among others. ‘The fool has said in his heart, there is no God.’ Psalms 14, verse 1,” Laish quoted, surprising me.

I looked back at him. “That’s from the Bible, right? How do you know that?”

“No one knows the scriptures so well as we demons do,” Laish said seriously. “We study them well to know our enemy.”

“So everyone in this circle has either ignored God or denied him?” I asked. “Your circle must be crowded! I believe in God and Heaven and obviously Hell—I mean here we are. But there are so many people who don’t. People who believe everything—the Earth, the solar system—the whole universe just happened by accident.”

“Of course—it is one of the more convincing lies we tell,” Laish said, shrugging. “Though I often wonder why humanity is so willing to swallow it. After all, one only need look at the stars and planets, so perfectly aligned in their courses, or the cellular structure of any organism to know that there has to be a Creator.”

“I guess everyone just believes everything evolved the way it is,” I said.

“As to that, perhaps if they would do some reading they might see that it isn’t so simple. There is a book in my own private library called The Case for a Creator. It’s quite thought provoking—I think if more mortals would read it, there would be fewer of them in my dominion,” Laish remarked.

“Well, maybe people don’t want to believe in Heaven or Hell,” I pointed out. “I mean, it can be a pretty heavy concept.”

“That is likely. For if there is no Heaven and no Hell, there is also no accountability after death.” Laish sighed. “As you can see, that is not true.”

“So how are the people here being punished?” I asked, looking around. “Nobody seems like they’re being whipped or beaten or tortured in any way. Or do you have some of those horrible pits like they had in Minauros and Stygia?”

“No—none of the people here did anything reprehensible or particularly evil—they simply denied God,” Laish said. “So their Hell is never to be in his presence—never to know his light and majesty and joy. Say what you will of the Almighty but He is a gentleman. If you wish nothing to do with him then He will not force you. If you turn your back on him, He will turn his back on you…for all eternity.”

I didn’t know why but his words made me sad. There was a deep longing in them…a wistfulness that made me want to ask him questions. But once again I bit my tongue.

“Tell me about the buildings,” I said instead. “What are they made of?” Every building we’d passed by was made of the same ivory-white material and some of the supports seemed to curve in strangely organic ways.

“As to that, I believe I will allow Belial to tell you the history of Dis.”

“Belial? Who’s he? Or she?” I added as an afterthought.

Laish smiled. “Belial is an elder statesman—the demon I trust to run Dis during my long absences. Oh don’t worry, mon ange,” he said quickly, correctly interpreting the reluctance on my face. “He is nothing like Druaga or the others of my kind you’ve been unfortunate enough to encounter. Belial is an intellectual—a historian. He loves to tell the story of Dis and how it came to be. And since we will be staying with him in the Citadel of Knowledge, I don’t wish to deprive him of the pleasure of being first to enlighten you.”

“The Citadel of Knowledge?” I asked. “Is that some kind of hotel?”

“Not quite—the bottom half of it is the House of Parliament, where the Council of Elder Demons rule on cases throughout Hell. The top half has been converted into a very cozy living quarters. It is where I stay every time I come to Dis.”

“Okay, so we’re going to your penthouse,” I said. “Sounds good to me, especially after sleeping on the floor last night. Where is it?”

“Just there.” Laish raised an arm and pointed.

I’d had my head turned around, talking to him but now I looked up, following his finger. There, standing before us at the end of the cobbled road was an immense structure that had to be at least five stories high.

And it was shaped like a gigantic skull.

* * * * *

Laish

“We’re staying there? In a skull?” Gwendolyn sounded fascinated and also a bit disgusted. I was amused at her reaction and her wonder at the Citadel. It truly is an awe inspiring structure—very surprising if one has never seen it before.

“That is the Citadel of Knowledge,” I said, nudging Kurex with my knees to get him trotting. It had been years since I’d visited Dis and I found myself eager to see my old mentor, Belial, again.

“Okay, there has to be a good story behind this. Is it a real skull?” she asked.

“Of course.” I was about to say more but as we rode into the courtyard of the Citadel a small imp, no higher than my knee, came scampering out of the cavernous hole in the lower jaw which served as a door.

“Master, Master—they are here at last! Lord Laish is here! I told you so,” he squeaked excitedly.

“Yes, yes, so you did.” Belial came out behind the little imp, leaning on a cane. He was an ancient knowledge demon—the kind called on by astrologers and alchemists—and his back was crooked and humped from bending over his books for untold years. His skin was the bluish-gray of his kind and quite wrinkled. The curly ram’s horns on the sides of his head were pure, glossy black in contrast to his long gray beard. He was a welcome sight.

“Lord Laish!”

As I swung off Kurex, he shuffled forward. I clasped arms with him eagerly.

“Belial—it’s good to see you again,” I said, truly meaning it. After my fall, Belial had been the first to help and instruct me. Despite all my power, I’d had no intimate knowledge of the Infernal Landscape—without him I would have been lost. I had become Belial’s pupil and he had become my friend and mentor. It was a relationship that continued to this day.

“We’ve been expecting you, my Lord.” He looked up at Gwendolyn who was still mounted on Kurex. “Both of you. Good afternoon to you, young lady.”

“Good afternoon.” Gwendolyn’s face said she didn’t quite know what to make of my old mentor.

“And why have you been expecting us?” I asked. “Has news of the battle at the Jealous Heart preceded us?”

“What? There was a battle? With whom?” Belial asked, looking concerned.

“The Skitterlings.” I sighed. “I am afraid there are considerably less of them to guard the Jealous Heart than there were.”

“Oh dear…” Belial made a tsking noise I remembered well and shook his head. “I’m afraid that is not good news. But this is the first I have heard of it.”

“Well then, why were you expecting us?” I led Kurex a little closer so that I could help Gwendolyn dismount.

“Because of Druaga—I understand you passed a night at the Hotel Infernal?” Belial raised one grizzled gray eyebrow at me.

“Yes, we did,” I said neutrally. “He offered Gwendolyn a grave insult. I was obliged to defend her honor.”

“Most commendable, my Lord,” Belial murmured. “But I’m afraid that now Druaga is bringing a complaint against you to the Council of Elder Demons.”

“Why?” Gwendolyn asked as I helped her down from Kurex’s back. “Because Laish burned his, uh, horn off?”

“Among other things,” I added.

The gray eyebrow went up again.

“Yes, I heard about that,” Belial remarked. “But no, that is not the issue. Druaga claims you have stolen something from him—something incredibly valuable and rare and he wants it back along with recompense for his pain and suffering.”

“Is this about my shoe again?” Gwendolyn asked, putting a hand on her hip. “Because that is just ridiculous!”

Belial shrugged. “He has not said what the item is. Apparently he is reluctant to disclose it until the Council convenes—if they agree to hear his case, that is.”

“This is ridiculous,” I growled. “Druaga is simply upset that I would not allow him to sample some of Gwendolyn’s soul. He has no claim on us—any damages or losses he sustained were a direct result of his own arrogance and rude behavior.”

“Hopefully the Council will see it that way as well.” Belial nodded sagely. “For now, we can only wait and see. But in the meantime, may I show you around the Citadel of Knowledge, young lady?”

He turned to Gwendolyn and offered his arm in a courtly gesture.

She looked at me uncertainly and I nodded reassuringly.

“You are as safe with Belial as you are with me,” I told her. “Go and explore the Citadel if you like. I have a bit of business to attend to while we are here.”

“All right.” She smiled tentatively and took Belial’s arm. “Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, my dear. Now what part would you like to see first?”

“First I’d like to know how a giant skull got turned into Laish’s penthouse,” Gwendolyn said, with a look at me. “Laish tells me there’s quite a story behind it but that you’re the only one who can tell it just right.”

“Well I have been known to spin a yarn or two in my time.” Belial’s thin chest swelled with pride. “The history of Dis and of the Citadel especially is quite fascinating.”

“Tell me all about it.” She smiled at him and he smiled back.

I could tell my old mentor and Gwendolyn would be great friends—she already had him under her spell. I smothered a smile as I watched them walk away, arm in arm into the jaw of the Citadel. I would catch up to them later—for now let her enjoy a bit of her journey through the Infernal Realm. Gods knew she’d had enough trauma here to last her a lifetime. I wanted her to be able to relax for a time and recuperate. We had a difficult road ahead and she would need all the strength she could gather.

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

“So this whole city is built on the remains of a giant demon?”

“Not just built on the remains,” the old demon said to me. “Dis is actually built of the remains of Beelzebub.”

“I thought that was just another name for the Devil,” I said doubtfully.

“The Father of Lies has many designations but his true name is and always has been Lucifer,” he told me. “Beelzebub was simply one of his followers. His form of power was that of a giant—he went to war in that form quite often.”

“Like Laish’s dragon form,” I said.

“Oh, the Lord Laish has told you of his wyrm form?” Belial looked surprised.

“He didn’t just tell me—he morphed into it right in front of me. Nearly scared me to death,” I confessed.

“I see.” He nodded and I thought for a moment he looked troubled. “So back to the history of Dis: Beelzebub was killed in the second Celestial War about two millennia ago. He was in his giant form when he died and this is where his body fell…” Belial spread his wrinkled hands, indicating the city, which I could still see by looking through the gaps between the massive teeth in the jaw where we stood. It was cool in the shadow of the jaw. I slipped back into my white fur coat which I had taken with me when I dismounted from Kurex.

“So people decided to build a city on—or out of—his body?” I asked, pulling the fur collar close around my neck.

“Well, after a few centuries or so once the carcass had been picked clean by scavengers, yes. His bones make excellent building materials and the Tunnel of Sighs, which you passed through to get here, is actually Beelzebub’s voice box. Some say that is why the voices of the dead can speak there—the ancient demon’s voice magnifies their own until the living can actually hear them.”

“And what happened to Beelzebub himself?” I asked.

Belial frowned and shook his head.

“Well, he died, my dear. Or what passes for death among our kind. Essentially his corporeal frame ceased to exist and his disembodied spirit was cast forever into the Lake of Fire.” He sighed. “Such is our fate when we finally expire.”

“That’s awful,” I said. “But why didn’t Beelzebub just shed the giant form and use another form instead? Like Laish did when he left his dragon form behind after fighting the Skitterlings?”

We had been strolling through the dark, rounded space created by the lower jaw of the skull which reminded me a little of a screened in porch—or a Florida room as they call it where I come from. But now Belial stopped short and looked at me, his cloudy yellow eyes going wide.

“Did you say that Lord Laish abandoned his wyrm form? That he was forced to leave it behind after the battle?”

“Well…yes.” I shrugged uncomfortably. “He told me there were just too many Skitterlings. They were everywhere.” I couldn’t repress a shudder at the memory. “I was just glad he got out alive at all! I thought he was dead for a while—it was awful.”

“He was dead—or a good part of him at least.” Belial sounded grim. “That was one of his forms of power. I cannot count the victories he won in that form, charging in front of his regiments of demons as a great wyrm, spraying fire and spreading death and destruction in his wake.”

“I’m really sorry,” I said feeling awkward. “I feel like it’s all my fault. I never meant—”

“No, no, my dear.” Belial patted my hand comfortingly. “It’s quite all right. Lord Laish is one of the Great Demons—a Prince of Night and Shadow. Believe me, he has more than one form of power. His true form for instance, now that is something to behold. He has not…eh, shown you that one, has he?”

“No,” I said candidly. “I, uh, think he’s afraid of what I’ll think of him if I see it. Although I don’t see how anything can be more terrible than his dragon form.”

Belial looked slightly relieved.

“Ah, the Lord Laish’s true form is both terrible and beautiful—that is what makes it so difficult to see,” he murmured. “It is a perversion of what he once was, you know.”

“Which is what?” I asked, burning with curiosity. “What was he? How did he get here? And what does his true form actually look like?”

“I am afraid if Lord Laish has not seen fit to tell you, I cannot either,” the ancient demon said mysteriously. “All that I can say is if you once see him as he truly is, you will not soon forget it.”

Thanks for nothing, I thought but my manners were too good to say it out loud. Instead I said, “Tell me more about Dis. And please show me the rest of the Citadel—I’ve never been inside a giant skull before.”

Belial was happy to do just that. We walked and talked as he showed me through the skull, which looked like a plush office building with a board room where the Council of Elder Demons met on the bottom, and a luxury penthouse on the top. There was a long spiral staircase that connected the two with steps and a banister all made of polished ivory which I now knew was bone.

“And here are Lord Laish’s apartments,” Belial said as we reached the top of the stairs and found a long hallway that branched off in either direction. To the right was a long stretch of highly polished hardwood floor with a single door at the very end. To the left was thick royal blue carpet that looked like you could sink into it over your ankles. It also ended in a door.

Belial led me to the left and opened the massive wooden door—at least not everything was made of bone. “This is his private library.” He made a sweeping motion with one wrinkled hand, bowing me into the room.

“Oh, a library?” I said eagerly. Then I stepped past him into the room and gasped.

I had estimated when we first rode up to the Citadel of Knowledge that the huge skull was about five stories high. Yet the floor below, with the boardroom set up, had seemed like a normal sized space. I had wondered, as we climbed the stairs, why the second story would need to take up so much height. Now I understood.

Bookshelves lined the walls of the entire room—bookshelves as tall as office buildings—and every one of them was absolutely full. I had to crane my neck as I looked up…and up…and up. The ceiling, four stories above me, was rounded, polished ivory—the top of the skull.

“This is amazing!” I exclaimed, walking over to a shelf and running my fingers along the leather bound spines. “Has Laish read all of these?” I wouldn’t have asked it if he’d been human with a human life span. A person could start when they first learned to read and continue without stopping until they died and still never even get through a quarter of the books in this room, I was sure. But I knew how long Laish had been around—he talked in terms of centuries and millennia—he would have time to get through these if he wanted to.

“These are just his favorites,” Belial said, smiling a little. “We have another facility built of Beelzebub’s ribcage at the other end of Dis which houses the rest of Lord Laish’s collection.”

“Wow…” I walked around, looking at some of the titles. The Screwtape Letters, The Great Divorce, Out of the Silent Planet… “These are all by C.S. Lewis,” I said, turning to Belial.

He nodded. “One of Lord Laish’s favorite authors.”

“But, wasn’t he a Christian author?” I asked. “I mean isn’t The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe an allegory about Christ?”

“It is.” Belial nodded again.

I moved a little way down, looking at a different section.

“The Case for a Creator…The Case for Faith…” I looked at Belial. “These are really some of his favorites?”

“Lord Laish always says you must know your enemy’s mind in order to outwit them. To that end, he is very well read.”

“Oh,” I said. “So these are all just for research.”

“Possibly.” Belial made a back and forth motion with his hand. “Though to be honest, I believe Lord Laish reads them for pleasure as well.”

Hmm, so Laish liked to read—there was something I hadn’t known about him. I continued down the shelves. Angels and Demons…After the Fall…Fallen: When Pride Kills Reason… Suddenly Eryn fluttered up from my shoulder and settled on the spine of a book I hadn’t seen. It was so small and thin it was almost lost among the other thick volumes on the shelf. I bent down a little to get a better look at it. “Angels Unawares,” I murmured, watching as my little pet crawled up and down the spine of the book, fluttering her winds eagerly. “Are you excited because this reminds you of Heaven, little girl?”

She flapped her wings again and only returned to my shoulder when I pulled the book out and tucked it under my arm. Then I had a thought and turned to Belial.

“Um, is this okay? Do you think Laish would mind if I picked a few to borrow for a while?”

“If he has shown you his second most powerful form and given it up for your sake, I doubt he would object to you borrowing from his shelves,” Belial said dryly. “Besides, Lord Laish has always been in favor of learning. Though he draws his power from fire and lust, he has the mind of a knowledge demon, as I have often told him.”

I was still awed by the sheer volume of books in the room but something Belial said bothered me.

“Did you say he draws some of his power from lust?”

“Indeed he does.” Belial’s complexion darkened to a dusty purple and I realized he was blushing. “Ahem…lusty acts for want of better words, have always fed his power nearly as much as the fire does.”

I flashed back to the night before. How Laish had been at the end of his strength. He’d told me that it would take a long time for his powers to return. Yet after we’d…done what we had done together, he had seemed to feel better immediately. He’d even said to me that he felt “much stronger” afterwards.

Maybe he was using you, whispered a little voice at the back of my head. Using your lust to build up his power.

I tried to push the thought away but I couldn’t help finding it disturbing. When Laish had wanted to touch me last night, he’d said it was just because he cared for me. What if that wasn’t true at all? What if he just wanted to use me like a battery, to recharge?

Don’t be ridiculous, I told myself uneasily. Think of all the things he’s done for you, all the times he’s saved you and protected you. He gave up one of his most powerful forms for you! Surely he feels something—it can’t all be pretend, can it?

I was sure it wasn’t. I’d been feeling closer to Laish and he’d treated me so gently…touched me so tenderly the night before. Surely it wasn’t just to build up his own power—was it?

I told myself I was being silly, but in my heart, a tiny seed of doubt had been planted. A seed that took root and began to grow almost at once.

To distract myself from my dark thoughts, I moved to another section of books. There was a whole row of rare spell books and grimoirees I knew Grams would give her eyeteeth to get just a glimpse of, as well as several about the Goddess, the benevolent entity who embodies the spirit of the Earth herself. Witches are especially close to her though I had an uncomfortable feeling she would not approve of what I had been doing lately.

Trying not to think about that, I picked a few of the spell books at random and turned away to examine the rest of the room. There was a massive stone fireplace in one rounded corner with a comfortable looking red leather couch in front of it. The only thing that seemed out of place was an old fashioned oval mirror in a tarnished gold frame standing by one arm of the couch. A quick glance at it showed that it was cracked in several places—I wondered why Laish kept it since it was obviously broken. It gave me a slightly uneasy feeling but I didn’t dwell on it for long—I was too busy looking at the couch.

I could just imagine curling up on that warm red leather with one of the innumerable books and reading comfortably for hours, maybe with a nice cup of hot tea in one hand. It would be the perfect way to unwind after a stressful day and the Goddess knew, I’d had several of those in a row lately.

“Well, this is a cozy set up,” I remarked, walking over to the couch. “All you need is a roaring fire in the fireplace and a cup of hot cinnamon spice tea and you’re good for the evening.”

“Do you like to read then?” Belial sounded pleased. “It is also one of Lord Laish’s favorite ways to pass an evening. He spends most of his time here when he visits Dis.”

“I would too.” I smiled at him and sat on the couch, being careful to pick the side farthest from the strange, cracked mirror. I liked the feeling of being surrounded by books—loved the warm, spicy scent of them that filled the air. That scent calmed me down and made me excited at the same time. It made me think of adventures in far off lands and the comfort and safety of sitting in my mother’s lap when I was little, being read to.

“This reminds me of a fantasy I had as a little girl,” I told Belial. “My Grams used to take us to the library once a week to get new books and I always wished I could get locked in and spend the night. Then I could read as much as I wanted.”

“Were you not allowed enough reading time as a child, then?” Belial asked, raising one gray eyebrow.

“I’m sure I had plenty—I just hated being called away from a good book to do my chores or work on my homework,” I said, smiling. “But my Grams was really strict about that—homework and chores always came first. Anything fun came after. She—”

The words died on my lips as I happened to catch a glimpse of the mirror across from me, at the other end of the couch. Its cracked surface was swirling with color, making a strange kaleidoscope pattern that drew my eyes and held them even when I tried to look away.

After a moment the swirling colors stopped and coalesced into a picture. It was Grams—she was busy locking up her magic lore shop for the day. I watched as she went through the nightly routine, dusting the shelves and wiping down her counter with its old fashioned cash register at one end. I’d tried and tried to get her to replace that thing but she stubbornly refused. It was cash or nothing for her—she didn’t trust credit cards and never had.

Watching her brought a lump to my throat. I’d never been away from her for so long except for that one disastrous summer she tried sending me to camp. I was miserable for the same reason I’d always been miserable in school—the other kids sensed that I was different and picked on me. Grams had ended up coming to get me halfway through the week and I remembered how glad I’d been to see her—how I flew into her arms and hugged her until she laughed and said I was making her old bones creak…

“Ah, you must have magic of your own, my dear. Otherwise the Mirror of the Eye would never have opened to you,” Belial murmured, breaking my concentration.

“The what?” I asked distractedly, still watching Grams go about her tasks. She looked so old and bent—her hair grayer than I remembered it from even a few days ago. I wished with all my heart I was there to help her—wished I could put my arms around her and tell her that I loved her and I was all right…

“The Mirror of the Eye—it is made from the lens of Beelzebub’s right eye, you know,” Belial replied in a scholarly tone. “The left one was destroyed when Michael the Archangel plunged his fiery sword into it and killed the great demon at the Second Battle of Antioch.”

“So…it’s a magic mirror?” I asked. The picture of Grams faded and I was finally able to drag my gaze away.

“It is—but only for those who have power of their own. An ordinary mortal would have seen nothing but a cracked surface.”

“That’s what I saw at first,” I confessed. “But then it changed.”

“And what, may I ask, did it show you, my dear?” Belial sounded intensely interested.

“It showed me my Grams—locking up her shop for the day. She looked…so old and…and alone.” I tried to choke back the tears that threatened to overwhelm me. Suddenly I was swamped in a miserable wave of homesickness. I was tired of being threatened and frightened and chased all over Hell—I just wanted to go home and hug my grandmother.

“Ah, then you must have true love in your heart for her.” Belial nodded sagely. “The first thing the mirror shows us is that which we truly love and desire. A power hungry individual might see himself as the CEO of a large corporation. One who desires wealth might see himself living in a mansion or holding stacks of cash.”

“So was what I saw real?” I asked, confused. “I mean, was that really my Grams or just an image of her because I miss her so much and want to see her again so badly?”

“Oh, it was real, all right,” Belial said, tugging at his beard. “The mirror never lies.”

“So…I could get it to show me my Grams again? Or someone else?” My head was whirling as I considered the possibilities.

Belial nodded, his shiny black horns glinting in the low light.

“When you have enough power, you can compel the mirror to show you the person or persons you love. But you must be careful—the mirror is not a one way portal—while you are looking out, someone or something else may be looking in at you.”

“Ugh, what an awful thought.” I put my arms around myself, feeling a sudden chill. “Someone like who?”

Belial shrugged. “Someone who loves you…or someone who means you harm, either is possible. You may even see someone who can help you…or someone who desperately needs your help. The mirror is difficult if not impossible to predict. That is what makes it so dangerous.”

“All right.” I got up from the couch and smiled at him. “This has all been so fascinating but does Laish happen to have a bathtub or shower on this floor somewhere? Our journey so far hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing and I would love to wash up.”

Belial nodded.

“As to that, I am certain you will enjoy Lord Laish’s bathing pool.”

“Ooo, a bathing pool?” I hurried to take his arm again when he held it out. “That sounds really interesting. Does it have hot water and bubble bath to go with it?”

The old demon smiled at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“I am certain it can be arranged. Would you also like me to send you up a tray of supper? Ask for anything you like, our chefs can prepare it.”

“Oh, thank you but I can’t,” I said, trying to refuse his kind offer as politely as I could. “You see, I’m just a, uh, tourist in Hell and I don’t want to get stuck here.”

He frowned slightly. “So you have brought your own food from the Mortal Realm, then?”

“Originally, yes,” I said. “Unfortunately, the container I had which was spelled to provide it, got broken beyond repair the very first night I was here.”

Belial shook his head sympathetically.

“You poor child—you must be so hungry if you’ve had no food for so long. I do wish we could accommodate you but alas, all of our food comes from the Infernal Realm and I fear it would trap you here indefinitely.”

“Oh, I’m not hungry,” I said, wanting to make him feel better. “Laish has been feeding me himself.”

“He has?” Both eyebrows shot up this time, making the old demon look like he had a furry gray caterpillar crawling across his forehead.

“Well, yes,” I said hesitantly. “I mean, he cuts his wrist with this little knife and lets a few drops of blood fall on a plate. Then they turn into whatever I ask for. So you see, I’m perfectly fine.”

Belial was shaking his head in disbelief.

“I cannot believe it,” he muttered. “I simply cannot believe it.”

“Believe what? Isn’t it okay?” The little seed of doubt that had been planted in my heart grew another inch. “I mean, the food he’s been making me won’t trap me here, will it? He promised me it wouldn’t. He said—”

“No, no—it is perfectly safe to eat.” The old demon made an impatient motion with one hand. “I am just…very surprised at him offering it to you. Forgive me, my dear, but though you’re very pretty, you’re only a mortal. For Lord Laish to offer you the Sacrifice of Blood…”

“Only a mortal?” I asked, bristling a little. “Does that make me less valuable for some reason? Less worthy of Laish’s interest?”

“Not as such…” Belial seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “But you must understand, my dear, you mortals have such a very short life span—over in the blink of an eye. I could understand if Lord Laish wished to keep you in the Infernal Realm—to serve as his concubine for eternity. But he is going out of is way not to damn your soul. It makes no sense for him to take such pains for you.”

“It makes perfect sense to me,” I said coolly, taking my hand off his arm. “Laish knows I don’t want to stay in Hell.”

“Yes, yes, but…” He tugged at his long gray beard. “How can I put it? It would be like you putting yourself through a great deal of pain and agony simply to feed a pet ant which you knew would be dead in a couple of days.”

“So now I’m his pet?” I was really angry now. “I don’t think so!”

Belial made me a sweeping bow which looked awkward and uncomfortable with his humped back.

“Please, forgive me if I offended you, my dear—it was not done intentionally. I was simply…surprised. That’s all.”

“Surprised that Laish could care for a mortal?” I asked stiffly.

“Well, yes, to be candid.” Belial shrugged his hunched shoulders. “Then again, one thing I have always liked about Lord Laish was his ability to violate my expectations. He has always had a mind of his own—even when I first found him and he was new to our realm.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I wasn’t exactly ready to accept his apology about the whole “pet” thing—which was pretty freaking offensive—so I just nodded. We left the library and retraced our steps to the top of the spiral staircase where the carpet began in the right hand hallway.

“This half of the Citadel is reserved for Lord Laish’s private living quarters,” Belial explained in a subdued voice. “Please make yourself at home and I will have a selection of bathing products sent up to you presently.”

“Thank you,” I said shortly. Then, feeling bad because he looked like an old dog that had been kicked I added, “And thank you for the tour. It was very interesting.”

The old demon brightened up a little bit.

“I am so glad you enjoyed it. I do love to show people around the Citadel. And…” He hesitated for a moment. “And I do hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive my ill chosen words about your mortality. After all, if Lord Laish has chosen to open himself to you and offer you the Sacrifice of Blood, I am certain he has a good reason for it.”

“Thank you,” I said again, a little more warmly this time. “I, uh, hope you’re right.”

“I am certain that I am. You must be very special to him.” Belial nodded again, smiling and then made a motion with his hand. “Please enjoy the facilities.”

“I will,” I said. I watched as he began climbing laboriously down the spiral bone staircase, clutching the railing with one bony hand, before I turned back to open the door into Laish’s living area. I only hoped the bathing pool was as wonderful as it sounded. I needed someplace relaxing to rest and process everything Belial had told me…and everything he hadn’t told me as well.

Chapter Twenty-six

Gwendolyn

The bathing pool was everything I’d hoped for and more.

It was a long, rectangular tub set right into the floor—which was made of indigo blue tile with golden streaks running through it—and it really was a pool. By which I mean, I could have done laps in it if I wanted to. There was even a deep end and a shallow end—I couldn’t wait to get in.

I started the water running and went to explore the rest of the area. There was a bedroom with a big four poster bed and a white spread. I wondered if Laish had ordered the white spread just for me and then decided that was silly. Still, the rest of the room was done in black—black carpet… black curtains in the single eye socket-window. It did have white walls though so maybe he just had a black and white theme going on.

There was another fireplace across from the bed, though it wasn’t as large as the one in the library, with a single black armchair in front of it. There was a crackling fire already going in the grate and I took off the white fur coat and draped it over the back of the chair. Eryn fluttered up from my shoulder briefly and then settled on the coat—maybe she liked the softness of the fur.

“That’s right—you stay there, little girl,” I told her. “You’re better off, especially since I’m going to get a nice long bubble bath—if they ever bring up the bath products Belial promised me.”

Just then, as if in answer to my thoughts, I heard a soft tapping at the door.

Remembering what had happened at the Hotel Infernal, I went across cautiously and called, “Who’s there?” without opening up.

“Just me, my lady,” squeaked a little voice.

I cracked the door just a tiny bit and saw the little imp who had greeted us so excitedly when we first rode up on Kurex. He was a tiny little guy, no higher than my knee, with red skin and sharp little horns growing out of the curly black hair on his head. In his hands was an immense silver tray filled with all kinds of bottles and jars. It looked much too heavy for him and indeed, he was sweating and trembling under its weight.

“Compliments of Master Belial,” he panted. “Please, my lady, would you like me to bring them in?”

“No, you can just leave the tray there,” I said firmly. He seemed harmless enough and Laish had said I was safe here but I was still a lot more wary than I had been in the past. After everything that had happened lately, who could blame me?

“As my lady wishes,” the little imp squeaked. He put the tray down carefully to one side of the door, so that the glass bottles and jars only clinked together a little. Then he bowed so deeply the tips of his horns brushed the deep blue carpet that covered this half of the hallway.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling a little despite myself.

“Anything I can do to serve. Your servant, my lady,” he replied, attempting to straighten up. I say “attempting” because he couldn’t quite manage it. Looking closer, I saw that his sharp little horns had gotten tangled in the loops of the Berber-type carpet. He was stuck, bent nearly in half, as he wiggled and struggled to get his head up again. But the more he struggled, the more entangled his horns got in the carpet. “Oh, oh!” he squeaked. “Oh, dear!”

He was such a comical sight that I couldn’t help laughing, though I tried to smother the sound and turn it into a cough.

“Are you all right?” I asked, forgetting my wariness. “Do you need some help?”

“Oh no, my lady,” he gasped, panting for breath. “A bit of a kafuffle is all. I shall…shall be all right presently.”

“Don’t be silly,” I said. Taking a chance, I knelt down and reached out the door. Gently, I untangled his horns from the carpet.

He must have been straining very hard to stand up because once he was free, he popped up so quickly that he toppled over with his little cloven hooves pawing the air comically.

This time I really couldn’t help laughing out loud though I didn’t want to be unkind. I covered my mouth and tried to hold it in but the first giggle got out before I could stop it.

The little imp got up on his feet, looking very red in the face—which was saying something since his skin was already red.

“I do thank you, my lady,” he said earnestly, looking up at me. “It’s very kind of you to free me from the entanglements of fate.”

Or the carpet, I thought but didn’t say.

“Of course.” I tried to smooth out my face and nodded at him seriously. “And it’s very kind of you to bring me all this wonderful bubble bath.”

“Merely doing my job, my lady. Is there anything else you require? Anything I can bring you?” he asked, looking up at me earnestly.

“Not right now. Thank you so much.” I smiled at him.

“You’re very welcome. I’m at your service for as long as you are here in the Citadel, my lady.” He started to bow again and then stopped himself, eyeing the carpet warily.

On impulse, I leaned down and put out a hand for him to shake.

Uncertainly, he took it. His little hand was as small as a child’s but he had a surprisingly firm grip. His skin was also quite hot.

“Thank you, my lady.” He looked both surprised and gratified that I would shake his hand.

“I’ll see you later…?” I let the question hang in the air, wondering if he was allowed to give me his name.

“Bobbin, my Lady. I’m Bobbin—that’s me.” He flashed me a quick little grin that showed very white teeth and nodded at me in a friendly way.

It didn’t sound like a demon’s name but then, he didn’t seem to be the typical demon, either.

“Well, Bobbin, I’m Gwendolyn. You can call me by my name—you don’t have to keep saying ‘my lady.’”

“Oh no, my lady!” He looked shocked. “I couldn’t possibly call the consort of Lord Laish by her proper name! He’d have me skinned alive and thrown into the Lake of Fire, so he would!”

“No, he won’t,” I promised him. “I wouldn’t let him do that to you. But if it makes you feel better, why not call me ‘my lady Gwendolyn?’ I mean, it makes me sound like somebody at the Renaissance Festival but if it makes you feel better…”

“It does. Thank you, my lady Gwendolyn, for your great kindness to Bobbin.” He looked up at me shyly. “You…you’re very pretty you know. I can see why Lord Laish is so taken with you.”

“Well, thank you, Bobbin.” I smiled at him.

“I speak only the truth.” He ducked his head and kissed the back of my hand quickly with his hot little lips. Then he straightened up, his face red again, and scampered off down the hallway as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.

I watched him go with a grin on my face. Maybe everyone in Hell wasn’t horrible. I was glad we had a little time here to recover before we headed out on the road again. Leaning down, I picked up the tray and took it inside—I wanted a bubble bath worse than I’d ever wanted anything in my life and I was finally going to get it.

~~~

I must have drifted off in the tub because the next thing I remember were hushed voices outside the bathroom door.

“…simply cannot understand why you would do such a thing,” a voice that sounded like Belial’s said.

“I told you,” Laish replied. “I had no choice but to abandon my wyrm form—there were too many Skitterlings to contend with.”

“But you didn’t have to give up your second most powerful form, my Lord! It took you centuries to cultivate it!”

“My only other option was to give up Gwendolyn to them,” Laish said coldly. “And I was not about to do that.”

“But why not?” Belial asked earnestly. “Truly she is a charming young woman but she is, after all, only a mortal. I could understand if you were intent on keeping her here with you for eternity but you are going out of your way not to damn her.”

“And what makes you think that?” Laish demanded.

“Because of what she told me—that you are making the Sacrifice of Blood for her every time you feed her. Quite apart from the pain you must be enduring for her sake, may I remind you, my Lord, how very dangerous that can be, especially to one who hangs in the balance as you do yourself?”

“You need not remind me of anything, Belial.” Laish’s deep voice cracked like a whip. “I’m well aware of the consequences of my actions.”

“But my Lord, I do not understand why.” The old demon’s voice sounded almost plaintive now. “Why put yourself through pain and trouble and suffering for a single mortal girl?”

Laish sighed and I could almost picture him running a hand through his hair.

“To tell the truth, Belial, I do not quite understand why myself. Gwendolyn has a hold on me—I can explain it no better than that,” he said in a low voice.

“But my Lord, there must be some reason.”

“Belial…” There was a warning in Laish’s low voice but still the other demon continued.

“Is it that you wish to sample her soul? You never had a taste for them before but I can understand if you’ve developed a liking. Maybe hers has a special flavor? Are you taking it little by little so that she doesn’t even feel the loss?”

Ugh—what an awful idea! I hadn’t even known such a thing was possible. Laish’s next words only made me feel a little bit better.

“I have not tasted her soul…yet,” he said.

Yet? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I thought angrily. Hadn’t he told me he wasn’t interested in my soul? Had he lied about that? And what else had he lied about?

“Is it that she feeds your power? Is her lust stronger than most?” Belial demanded relentlessly. “Is it magnified by her witchcraft? Or is it her innocence you seek? Surely with such power as you gained from reaping that you could regain your wyrm form or perhaps even cultivate an even more powerful one.”

I held my breath, hoping Laish would say no. That he would tell the other demon that I had a hold on him because he cared for me—not just because he wanted to use me like a battery to recharge. Or take my virginity to feed his own power. Or worst of all, suck up my soul. But I heard no such thing.

“I do not wish to speak further of this matter,” Laish replied shortly.

“But, my Lord—”

“I said I will not speak of it further.” Laish’s voice dropped to a menacing growl.

“Yes, my Lord.” I imagined Belial doing his awkward bow again.

I couldn’t help thinking that he had seemed like such a nice, kindly old demon—before I heard him telling Laish he should have given me to the Skitterlings or use me in some unspeakable way. I guessed appearances could be deceiving.

“In that case, I will leave you for the evening,” I heard him tell Laish. “Perhaps we can take council tomorrow before you and the young lady set out again.”

“Perhaps. But I do not intend to set out again immediately. I have taken precautions that should allow us to rest here for at least two nights. Gwendolyn has had a very difficult time during our journey so far—she needs to regain her strength.”

Well, it was nice to know he was thinking of me even if he didn’t know why he liked me. For some reason the thought put a lump in my throat—which was stupid. Like I wanted a demon to care for me. Like he would even be able to care. He doesn’t have a soul, remember? I told myself. What did you expect?

Well, something more than this, anyway. Especially after he’d been so sweet and kind and caring and protective. After he acted like I actually mattered to him. After he made me care… Suddenly I was ready to get out of the tub.

I pulled the plug and stepped out, grabbing a thick, white towel I’d placed at the tub’s edge before sinking down into the bubbles. I’d been in for so long my fingers had begun to get all pruney—I hate that. I told myself that was why I felt so miserable as I dried myself off briskly and wrapped the towel around me.

Laish knocked at the door just as I finished securing the towel.

“Gwendolyn? May I come in?”

“Don’t bother—I’m coming out,” I said. I opened the bathroom door and stepped past him into the living area between the bathroom and the bedroom. It had several comfortable looking black leather couches and, of course, the ubiquitous fireplace. That made sense, since Laish was a fire demon. Not that fire was his only source of power, I reminded myself unhappily.

“You are finished with your bath already?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh yes—I’ve been in there for ages. I think I must have fallen asleep,” I said, which wasn’t a total lie. “Why—how long have you been back in the room?” I asked, as casually as I could. “I thought you had business to attend to?” No point in letting him know I’d overheard his conversation.

“I attended to it.” He came forward and put his hands on my shoulders. “Now I would very much like to attend to you. You look beautiful wearing only a towel.”

The night before his touch and the desire in his ruby red eyes had made me quiver. Now they left me cold.

“Thanks but I don’t think I need attending to,” I said lightly, stepping away from his hands. “Especially if you’re talking about paying the Sin Tax.”

He frowned. “As a matter of fact, we do not have to pay the tax tonight. I have made arrangements so that we can spend at least two nights here, relaxing and regaining our strength.”

“That sounds great,” I said, trying to smile. But I didn’t think an extra night would matter to me. Two nights or two hundred or two thousand—I didn’t care how long we were here, I didn’t want him touching me when he didn’t even know himself how he felt about me. When I had no idea what his motives were.

“Well, as you are not interested in paying the tax, perhaps I can tempt some of your other appetites,” Laish murmured, withdrawing the little black-handled knife from his pocket. “There are night clothes laid out for you in the bedroom but before you go to change, please tell me what you’d like for dinner.”

I suddenly remembered what Belial had said about the Sacrifice of Blood being painful—agony, he had called it, hadn’t he? My stomach turned over at the thought.

“Thanks but I’m really not hungry,” I said, shaking my head. “Please don’t hurt yourself on my behalf.”

Laish frowned. “Gwendolyn, what is this about? You haven’t eaten since breakfast this morning.”

“But it was a big breakfast,” I protested. “Really, I’m fine. Just not hungry.”

“Gwendolyn—”

“All I really want to do is curl up with a good book and get an early night,” I said, interrupting him. “In fact, I found several that interested me but I left them in your library. Do you mind if I go get them?”

He looked like he wanted to say more—to get to the bottom of what was going on between us—but to my relief, he simply nodded.

“Go. Anything you find in the library is yours to keep if you like it.”

“That’s very generous of you,” I said grudgingly. “I may take you up on it—I noticed you have some rare spell books Grams would love.”

“They are yours, mon ange.” He spread his hands. “Everything I have is yours.”

Except your heart, I thought, but didn’t say. After all, it wasn’t fair to want him to fall in love with me, even if he could. It wasn’t like I could return the emotion.

“Thank you,” I said, nodding, and went into the bedroom to get dressed.

Laish must not have anticipated my reluctance to pay the tax with him that night. Or maybe he just wanted to dress me in something sexy for his own enjoyment. Whichever the reason, the nighty he’d conjured me was just short of obscene. It was all in white—of course—with low cut French lace panties and a babydoll cut top that tied right between my breasts and fell just to my upper thighs. The only saving grace was that it had a long-sleeved white silk gown to go with it. I belted it tightly before slipping out the bedroom door and going softly down the long corridor to the library.

Someone had set a fire in the fireplace and it was crackling merrily as I stepped into the big, empty room. The light it shed didn’t reach the ceiling, however, which was a black mass of shadows. I couldn’t help feeling eerie about being in the huge, dim space all by myself.

I told myself to stop being a coward and walked firmly over to the red leather couch. There were the books, just where I had left them. Instead of picking them up and taking them back to the room, I settled in the corner of the couch and opened one of the spell books. The red leather was warm from the heat of the fire and soon I had lost myself in an incantation for returning hidden things to their proper form.

I don’t know how long I read but something half seen from the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked up quickly and a flash of kaleidoscope colors met my gaze.

“The mirror—it’s the Mirror of the Eye,” whispered a warning little voice in my ear. “Look away quick, Gwendolyn!”

But when I tried, I found I couldn’t look away—I was trapped.

The first thing I saw was Laish, staring back at me with his ruby red eyes. There was a look on his face I couldn’t read. Then, almost as suddenly as his image had appeared, the kaleidoscope colors swirled and he was gone.

Still trapped in the mirror’s spell, I saw a girl with pale blonde hair—so light it was almost white—and eyes the color of lilacs. She had on a long white robe and some kind of feathery stole that wrapped around her shoulders.

“Gwendolyn,” she whispered. “Help me! Help me get out of here. If you cannot send me back to my home, then send me to the Mortal Realm. Anyplace is better than here where he might find me. Don’t let him take me back! Don’t let him hurt me—please!”

“Who are you?” I whispered but the girl’s image was already fading. In its place was the figure of a man—a man I felt I knew even though I didn’t recognize his face. In fact, I couldn’t even actually see his face—no matter how hard I looked, the features refused to become clear to me.

Suddenly, I knew who it was.

“Shadowlock!” I whispered through numb lips. He was the warlock who Celeste, Taylor’s vampire mistress, had hired to do the spell which was to have transferred Taylor’s power to her. He was one of the strongest warlocks in the country—if not the strongest. I had felt his immense power that night he did the spell because he’d put a barrier around Taylor which we had to break through to rescue her. His reputation was well deserved.

Shadowlock looked the same way he had the one and only time I’d laid eyes on him, though I had seen him only momentarily after I had opened the door to the Abyss and pulled Taylor back from the pit. At the time I’d been so drained of power I could barely move—stealing a soul away from the edge of eternity is incredibly tiring. He’d been standing in the moonlight looking at me—maybe sizing up the competition—before he turned and stalked away.

He was a big guy—very muscular and as he had been that night, he was wearing a plaid shirt, tight, faded jeans, and worn boots. He seemed to have the whole Texas cowboy thing going on—at least according to Taylor. She’d said he had a thick drawl that matched his boots and jeans. I’d found the idea of a country-boy warlock funny before but now I just stared at him. Why was the mirror showing me this? What point was it trying to make?

The Shadowlock in the mirror tipped his cowboy hat at me.

“Hey there, sweetheart—what can I do for you?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I don’t even know why I’m seeing you—or if you’re real.”

He frowned—at least I thought he did. It was hard to tell with the face-obscuring spell that hid his features.

“Oh, I’m real, darlin’. The question is, am I dreaming of you or are you dreaming of me?”

“Dreaming?” I whispered. “This is no dream. This is—”

But just then the image in the mirror changed again.

This time it showed me the picture of a girl—a girl with skin my color or a little darker and wild, untamed black hair. She was huddled in a corner with her back to me so at first I didn’t know who it was. But then someone else came into the room with her.

“Get up!” The tall man with one gold tooth in the front and baggy jeans that sagged and showed his boxers was immediately and hatefully familiar to me. He had greasy brown hair that hung in his face and mean eyes the color of mud. “Get up, bitch,” he barked at the girl again. When she didn’t respond, he kicked her hard in the ribs.

A sharp, hurt noise came from the girl and she began to get laboriously to her feet. But she wasn’t moving fast enough for the man.

“I said get up, you fucking whore!” Reaching for her arm, he yanked her upright and slapped her cheek, rocking her head back on her neck.

“Sorry,” the girl moaned. “Just tired, Ray…so tired.” She turned her head and at last I saw her face.

“Keisha,” I whispered, my throat tight with unshed tears. My little sister’s face looked much older than it should. There were lines around her eyes and mouth and a fresh bruise on one cheekbone. When she opened her mouth, I saw that two of her front teeth were missing and there was a cold sore blooming on her bottom lip.

“Sorry,” she mumbled again, looking up at the man who had her by the arm. “Just sleepy is all.”

“You better wake the fuck up, Keisha,” he snapped, shaking her. “I got two guys here that like to share. Don’t you fucking disappoint them or you won’t get your taste tonight—understand?”

“Aww, c’mon, Ray,” she mumbled. “You promised no more two-fers. Those hurt.”

“I don’t give a good Goddamn if it hurts. You earn your fix around here, baby. Earn it or get out on the street. And how long do you think you’d last without somebody to take care of you? Huh?”

“Okay, all right…” Keisha had begun to cry now. “I’ll do it—I’ll do it. Just don’t kick me out, Ray. You know I need you, right?”

“You don’t need that bastard, Keisha,” I whispered fiercely. I was crying too—tears of pain and rage rolling down my face. I hadn’t seen my little sister for almost a year—her pimp wouldn’t let Grams and me near her. We had tried everything to save her—from magic to rehab—but somehow she always went back to him. To him and the miserable life of prostitution he’d forced her into. It was the drugs—I knew it was. They had a hold on her so strong that nothing could get her off them permanently—not while he was still there to give them to her.

Of course she might have had a chance to kick the habit if Ray was out of the way. If he wasn’t always there with a free “taste” of her favorite drug waiting just for her.

He has to die, I thought and knew it was true. This was the reason I’d been working so hard on the revenge spell. This was who I wanted to punish—even at the cost of my own soul. Until this evil bastard died I could never reclaim my little sister. Until I killed him, she would never be free.

I felt the will to kill building inside me—the dark power flooding my body—and I welcomed it. Forget about complicated revenge spells—I was in Hell now. There was more than enough evil energy to call on. Enough hate and rage and murderous intent to fill me to the brim—to overflowing.

I felt the ball of dark power building inside me. I had never killed a human being before—never sacrificed the hornless goat as witches call it—but I was more than ready now. Somehow I knew that if I could just gather enough evil energy I could reach through the mirror and get him. I pictured myself shoving my hand into his chest and taking that foul, black, twisted lump he called a heart in my hand. And then I would squeeze and squeeze until it popped like an overripe tomato between my fingers. Until he screeched and screamed and fell, writhing to the floor, living that last few seconds of his life in agony until I snuffed him out forever…

I was up on my feet before I knew it and moving towards the mirror.

Yes, I seemed to hear something whisper. Yes, come to me…come closer…touch it…

I lifted my hand, focusing all the negative energy I’d gathered into a tight ball. I would use this power to force my fingers through the magic mirror and into Ray’s hateful chest. I would—

But just as my fingertips were almost brushing the cool surface of the mirror, the picture of my sister and her pimp faded. In its place was a creature out of a nightmare—my nightmare. A creature without a head and yet somehow it still had a mouth—a mouth with long, jagged, yellow teeth. A stump of a tongue writhed in its gaping maw as it reached for me, longing to suck out my soul.

I felt its hot, fetid breath on my fingertips and tried to pull back but I couldn’t stop—couldn’t get away. My heart pounded fiercely and a scream broke from my lips as my hand was drawn inexorably forward, into the mirror…into the HellSpawn’s hungry mouth…

Suddenly Laish was at my side.

“Gwendolyn?” he asked and then seemed to realize what was happening. He shouted a word of power aloud that made me feel like someone had driven spikes into my ears. With an angry hiss, the HellSpawn vanished as abruptly as it had appeared. The mirror went blank and only the dancing shadows and firelight could be seen reflected in its cracked surface.

Freed of its spell at last, I sank back against the couch, a sob rising in my throat. Goddess, that had been so close!

“Gwendolyn, what were you doing? What were you thinking?” Laish had me by the shoulders. He looked down at me, giving me a quick, angry shake. Then he pulled me to him, pressing my face to his broad, bare chest. “Mon ange,” he murmured in a deep, broken voice. “I thought I’d lost you—what possessed you to do such a thing?”

“My little sister—I saw her.” I pushed away from him, but I was unable to keep the words from spilling out. “And he was hurting her—he was going to make her…make her do…” I shook my head, unable to continue. Unable to speak aloud the shame and degradation Keisha was doubtless enduring even now.

“The mirror showed you your sister?” He frowned, clearly not understanding.

“And her pimp! She’s a drug addict,” I shouted at him. “And a…a prostitute! And it’s all his fault—that bastard. He hooked her on the drugs—he makes her whore herself out to get them! If he was dead, she might have a chance to get free. If I could kill him—”

“If you could kill him?” His ruby eyes narrowed and filled with understanding. “Ah, now I see. This is the man your spell was meant for. This is why you were willing to risk your immortal soul.”

“Now you know,” I snapped. “Are you happy now? Does it make you feel superior to know my dirty little secret?”

“What secret?” he asked quietly. “That you love so intensely and care so deeply you are willing to do anything to save those you love? That is no secret to me, mon ange. I only wish I could count myself among their numbers.”

“Yeah, right.” I tried to pull away from his grip on my arms but he wouldn’t let me. “Let me go!” I yelled. “Don’t talk to me about love—you don’t know the meaning of the word!”

“You think not?” His voice was still quiet, introspective. “Once I would have agreed with you—now I am not so sure.” He frowned. “But I do know what danger you’ve put yourself in. I felt you gathering evil energy into yourself—what were you thinking, opening yourself to such forces?”

“What do you care?” I snapped sullenly. “Afraid I’ll stain my soul before you can suck it out of me?”

“Suck it out of you?” He frowned. “What are you—”

“I heard your conversation with Belial through the bathroom door,” I told him, my voice rising with anger. “I heard how he told you that you should have left me to the Skitterlings and kept your dragon form.”

Laish’s face darkened. “There is no way you should have been able to hear us—we were cocooned in a circle of silence.”

“Well, I heard anyway,” I snapped. “Heard exactly what you and Belial think I’m worth—nothing.”

“It is not that Belial is an uncaring monster or that he dislikes you—he is simply protective of me,” Laish said, frowning.

“What about when he asked you why you bothered with me?” I demanded, not willing to let it go. “When he asked why you went to all the trouble and pain for me and you said…” My voice cracked but I forced myself to hold my head up and keep the hot tears that were stinging my eyes from falling. “You said you didn’t know. You didn’t know how you felt about me or even why you cared.”

“Because I didn’t!” For the first time, Laish raised his voice. “I didn’t understand the hold you had on me, my little witch. If I were still the being I was created to be, I would have said that I loved you. But I am a demon—I have no love in my heart. For that matter—I barely have a heart to love with. And yet, you draw me to you like a moth to the flame. I cannot free myself from your spell.” His voice dropped. “I do not even want to.”

“Right.” My voice trembled, tears threatening to push through my wall of protective sarcasm. “Why should I believe you?” I asked him. “Why should I believe your lies?”

“Because they are not lies. Look.”

Turning me around, he marched me back towards the mirror. When I realized where we were going, I began to struggle in his arms.

“No—no! I’m not looking in there again!” I shouted.

“Be still, Gwendolyn,” he said firmly. “You are not going to look into it—I am.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded as he reached the mirror with me in tow.

Laish turned to face me.

“Belial told you how it works, did he not? That the first thing the mirror shows you is the thing you love the most?”

“Well…yes,” I admitted grudgingly. “He said something like that. It showed me Grams the first time I looked into it.”

“Of course it did.” He sighed. “And the second time it showed you your sister. Do I dare to ask if it showed me to you at all?”

I thought of the brief glimpse I’d gotten of his face before the strange blonde girl with the feathery wrap around her shoulders showed up.

“No,” I said firmly, lifting my chin. “It didn’t show you at all.”

His mouth tightened. “Then this should be a humiliating experience.”

“What should?” I asked, frowning.

“We are going to look into the mirror together, Gwendolyn. Or rather, I am going to look and you will stand behind me, looking over my shoulder—in this way you will see what I see.”

I didn’t want to do it but he seemed determined. He positioned himself in front of the cracked surface of the mirror and I stood just behind him, standing on my tiptoes to get a look over his broad shoulder.

At first I saw only the two of us reflected in the silvery surface. Laish standing there, his broad, bare chest hiding my smaller form and me peeking over his shoulder like a little girl afraid of monsters. Which I was to be honest—no way did I want to see that freaky HellSpawn coming after me again.

Then the kaleidoscope colors began. When they finished swirling, Laish had faded from the picture and it was just me, standing there in my white nighty and robe, looking frightened and unsure.

“I don’t get it,” I said, frowning. “You disappeared and it’s just me.”

“Exactly.” His voice was low and warm and when I looked away from the mirror—I was able to do it somehow, maybe because it was showing things to him and not me—I saw there was an unreadable look in his ruby red eyes.

“Laish…” I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I,” he murmured. “But the Mirror of the Eye cannot lie—it shows what is in a person’s heart. And you are in mine, mon ange.”

“But why? How?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. You are changing me, I think. How exactly you are doing this or what you are changing me into, I have no idea.” He shrugged, his broad, bare shoulders rolling with the movement. “It is…disconcerting to say the least.”

“I don’t know what to say.” I left him and went to sit on the far side of the couch. “I’m not working any spells on you, if that’s what you think. Not that my magic could have much effect on a powerful demon like you.”

He laughed, a low, rich sound I could feel in my bones.

“I do not think you are doing it on purpose, my little witch. Nor do I blame you for it.”

“But it’s ruining you—stealing your power,” I argued. “You gave up one of your most powerful forms for me. And Belial said it causes you agonizing pain every time you feed me with your blood.”

His face darkened.

“That was not for Belial to speak of. I will have to have words with him.”

“But is it true?” I demanded.

He frowned. “Well…yes,” he admitted at last. “Is that why you refused my offer of supper?”

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“I’m not going to have you hurting yourself for me every time I get a little ‘peckish,’ as Grams says.”

“Gwendolyn, I do not think you understand.” He sank down on the couch beside me and took one of my hands in both of his. “Look at me.”

I didn’t want to but the force of his eyes on my face compelled me.

“What?” I asked at last, looking up unwillingly.

“It is my pleasure to feed you,” Laish murmured, stroking my hand and the inside of my wrist in a way that made my heart start to pound. “My pleasure to sacrifice for you…to bear pain for your sake if necessary. I care for you in a way I do not understand but it makes me want to give of myself to you. Will you let me?”

“I…” I bit my lip, my heart thudding in my ears. “I don’t know,” I said at last. “Maybe…maybe later. I’m not very hungry right now.”

“Will you let me give you comfort, then?” he asked softly. “You are trembling like a leaf.”

“Am I?” I took stock of myself and realized that I was. Maybe it was the shock of what had happened with the mirror sinking in but I felt cold despite the fire’s warmth—so cold I thought I might never be warm again.

“Gwendolyn, come here.”

Laish gathered me into his arms and for some reason I let him. I pressed my cold cheek against his warm chest and breathed in his cinnamon and dark spice scent, trying not to think about Keisha and everything else I’d seen in the mirror. Trying not to cry.

“They are just tears, mon ange,” Laish rumbled, stroking my hair. “Let them fall.”

I tried to stop myself but I couldn’t help it when a few hot drops rolled down my cheeks. Laish stroked my back and shoulders and held me tight.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” I whispered at last, trying to get control of myself. “I never would have tried to kill anyone like that before—not the way I was about to do it. My plan was to put a revenge spell on him—one that would make him waste away and leave Keisha alone. But just now I…” I swallowed hard. “I wanted to rip his heart out and squeeze it to a pulp. That’s what I was trying to do before that…that thing appeared and tried to get me.”

“Doubtless it was the HellSpawn working its will on you through the mirror.” Laish shook his head. “I never should have let you come in here alone with it. Belial told me that it opened for you but I thought it had only one picture to show. I never dreamed that the thing which seeks you would be intelligent enough to track you through it.”

“Does it know where I am now?” I looked up at him anxiously, wiping my eyes with my fingers. “Does it know my exact location?”

“If not the exact location, then it will have a very good approximation.” Laish sighed. “I have taken some precautions to throw it off your trail—I had four different demons wear the clothing you had on yesterday and spread your scent in four different directions.”

“You did?” I asked.

Laish nodded. “I hoped to buy us an extra night to spend recuperating here where it is relatively safe before we pushed on. But now…” He sighed again. “Now I fear we must continue our journey tomorrow. We must cross the barrier between Dis and the Sunless Sea as soon as may be.”

“Cross the barrier…right.” I bit my lip as I considered the implications. “I…I guess that means we have to pay the Sin Tax tonight after all,” I whispered.

Laish looked troubled.

“It would be best. There is no privacy by the barrier that leads to the Sunless Sea—it is right in the middle of Dis by the Great Hoof.”

“Is that a landmark?” I asked.

He nodded. “As well as a literal hoof—one of Beelzebub’s. It has been made into a tavern now.”

“Of course,” I muttered. For a moment I pictured a huge hoof so big you could go and have a beer inside it. But the picture couldn’t hold my attention for long—not when I knew what we had to do. “The tax,” I said, looking up at Laish. “Does it…does it have to be paid in lust?”

“No,” he said calmly. “I can find you a sentient creature to kill if you wish. Maybe one of the lesser imps that Belial keeps around the Citadel to run errands? If you do it correctly, the killing can be quick and painless.”

I thought of Bobbin with his tiny cloven hooves…his sharp little horns and shy smile. Though I had been filled with murderous intent towards Keisha’s pimp just a few minutes ago, the idea of killing anyone, especially the cute little imp, left me cold.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No, I can’t do that. I won’t.”

Laish shrugged. “Well, I am uncertain what else you could do. If we were in a lesser circle of Hell you might be able to steal something you coveted to pay the tax. But this close to the center of the Infernal Realm I am afraid a larger sin is required—a more concrete transgression. Besides, if you steal from the wrong merchant here, you could wind up losing a hand. That would not be pleasant.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” I agreed fervently.

“What is it, Gwendolyn?” He lifted my chin and looked at me intently. “Is it that you still fear me? Or that you dislike me now?”

“I wasn’t too happy with you for a while there. But…no, it’s not that anymore.” Not after what I’d seen in the mirror. I knew that he felt for me now and I was beginning to think I felt something for him, too. How or why was a mystery to us both but I couldn’t be mad at him for not understanding what was between us when I didn’t understand it myself.

“Do you fear that I cannot help you pay the tax without taking your virginity?” Laish asked softly.

“Well…yes, I guess so.” I imagined him between my legs, entering me and I could feel my heart pounding in every part of my body—even my fingertips. It seemed to shake me with its beating and I couldn’t get a deep enough breath.

“It may yet come to that, Gwendolyn,” he murmured, keeping his eyes locked with mine. “But it need not yet—not here. I do not know what we may have to do in order to breach the barrier that stands between the Sunless Sea and the Abyss, but here and now, I am quite certain that I can help you pay the tax while keeping your innocence—at least a little longer.”

“You…you can?” I whispered, licking my lips nervously. “I mean…how?”

“Easily.” A slow smile spread across his sensuous lips. “You need only let me taste you.”

I knew what he meant at once and the very thought of it made my cheeks hot and my hands shake.

“I…you…” I looked down at my fingers which were twisted in my lap. “You really want to do that, don’t you?”

Laish lifted my chin and looked into my eyes.

“To spread your soft little cunt lips with my tongue and explore your hidden pleasures with my mouth? To taste your sweet honey right from the source? I want that more than anything, mon ange.”

“I…” I found I was tongue-tied again. I knew he liked my scent and my taste—he’d said it to me more than once. Yet, I’d never had a man down there, between my legs, and the very idea seemed so forbidden and wrong and sensual and hot all at the same time I felt like I was twisted in knots inside.

“We can take things slowly,” Laish murmured, stroking my hot cheek with his long fingers. “We can start with a simple kiss if you like.”

“Just…just a kiss?” I asked, looking up at him.

He nodded. “Just a kiss. I will not even need to remove your panties—to begin with, anyway.”

I thought about it for a moment. The idea of having him kiss me down there with my panties still on, not even touching bare skin, seemed a lot less scary than the idea of taking everything off and letting him dive right in, as it were.

“Well…” I hesitated and Laish was silent, not pressuring me, letting me make up my mind. “Just a kiss, then,” I said at last, nodding. “Just to let me know…know what it’s like.”

“Of course.” I had expected him to carry me off to the bedroom and go for it right away. Instead he surprised me by pulling me close and taking my mouth with his. Softly and gently he parted my lips with his tongue, stroking my cheek with his fingertips as he tasted my mouth.

I felt myself melting against him because I knew what he was doing—he was showing me exactly how gentle he could be. He was letting me know what I could expect from him and it was all tenderness and patience.

“Goddess,” I whispered at last, panting, when he drew back and looked me in the eyes. “You really know how to make a girl crazy.”

A little grin touched the corner of his mouth.

“I’ve barely begun, mon ange. Will you allow me to kiss you elsewhere now?”

I nibbled my lower lip where I could still feel the soft press of his mouth.

“I…I guess so.”

“Thank you—you honor me with your trust.”

Slowly, he slid off the couch and settled on the floor in front of me.

“What—right here?” I asked, feeling uncertain all over again. “You don’t want to take me to the bedroom? Where it’s, uh, nice and dark?”

“No.” Laish shook his head firmly. “I wish to see you, mon ange—want to watch your face as I taste your sweet pussy. And I want you to watch while I do it—that will make your pleasure even more intense. It should also allay some of your fear because you will be able to see exactly what I am doing.”

“But…but…” I didn’t know how I felt about this. Didn’t know if I wanted to see him do that to me. But Laish stroked my trembling thighs soothingly with his big hands.

“Just a kiss to start with,” he reminded me. “And you do not even have to take off your panties.”

“Oh, that’s right…” I took a deep breath. I can do this. I have to do this. “All right,” I said at last and forced my legs to part, though it was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. “Just a kiss.”

“Good.” Laish looked up at me and stroked my inner thighs. “Just a kiss.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

Laish

How can I explain the rush of emotion I felt when Gwendolyn finally parted her thighs for me? When she finally trusted me enough to open up and let me give her pleasure? I felt fiercely protective of her—wanting to earn the trust she’d shown me. At the same time I felt admiration for her courage—this was no easy thing for her to do and I well knew it. And I would be lying if I didn’t admit that blood surged to my cock at the sight of her lying open before me at last.

She was wearing the little white panties I’d laid out for her and the fragile lace barely covered her plump pussy mound. Already I could see her moisture gathering, making the thin white material almost transparent. It clung to her outer lips in a way that was distractingly erotic.

“Gods, mon ange,” I murmured, running one finger down the clearly delineated cleft of her pussy. “Look how wet you’re already getting. Look how eager your pussy is to be kissed.”

“Laish…” she protested in a breathless voice. Looking up, I saw that her cheeks were flushed and her green eyes were bright in the firelight. Clearly she was still a little uncertain about letting me do this. That was all right—I was determined to win her trust completely. And to that end, I would take things slowly—as slowly as she needed me to.

“It’s all right, mon ange,” I assured her, kissing her inner thigh and making her jump.

“No, it’s not. I didn’t know…I mean, I don’t know why I’m so, uh…”

“Wet? Aroused?” I suggested in a low voice. “Maybe because your body is ready for things your mind is still coming to terms with.”

“Maybe,” she whispered, biting her lip. “But it’s still embarrassing.”

“It’s beautiful,” I corrected her gently. “I knew those panties would look perfect on you, especially once your pussy got wet. I love how transparent they are…how I can see your cunt lips parting and your little clit swelling with need.”

“Goddess!” Her cheeks got even darker but I could tell by her breathing and the way her sweet, feminine scent intensified that my words were arousing her. Though she didn’t like to admit it, my dirty talk affected her greatly. For myself, I enjoyed it as well. I loved to tell her in no uncertain terms how beautiful I found her lush body and exactly what I wanted to do to it.

“May I kiss you now?” I asked, looking up at her. “May I pleasure you with my mouth, Gwendolyn?”

“I…I guess so. Yes.” She nodded, the look in her eyes both fearful and eager.

“Thank you,” I murmured. I knew what she expected me to do—knew she thought I would kiss her pussy through the thin, transparent panties at once. But such directness would not have stimulated her. Besides, I loved violating her expectations.

Starting just by her left knee, I began to lick a long, slow trail up her inner thigh. It was the way I had licked her clean after I brought her to orgasm the night before and I wanted to remind her of it—to remind her that I would be gentle and tender in all things.

She moaned softly and I felt a little of the tension leave her thighs as she opened wider to me.

“That’s right,” I murmured, placing a soft, open mouthed kiss just where her thigh met her body. “Open for me, Gwendolyn. Let yourself relax—I will never hurt you.”

“Laish…” she whispered and reached out to stroke my cheek as I started on her other thigh. I nuzzled against her hand, kissing her palm tenderly. Gods, she was so lovely—so delicate. I could think of no place in any realm I would rather be than here on my knees before her, servicing her with my tongue.

Finally, after kissing and licking her inner thighs for some time, I felt she was ready. She was shifting around on the couch impatiently and her pussy was so wet I could see the ripe berry of her clit clearly begging for attention. I knew how sensitive she was there—too sensitive for direct contact with something as crude and rough as a hand or finger. But lips and tongue are always softer—I thought she could bear my oral attentions to her more delicate areas quite well.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Gwendolyn—really kiss you,” I told her softly. “Look at me. Watch me kiss your sweet little clit.”

“Laish…” I loved the way she breathed my name…the way her eyes followed me as I leaned in again and laid a hot, open-mouthed kiss on her throbbing clit through the thin panties.

I prolonged the kiss as long as I could, not really licking—just pressing the flat of my tongue to her sensitive little nub.

Gwendolyn gasped and her eyes widened. I knew she was feeling the heat of my mouth, knew that every nerve in her body was alight as I kissed her so gently. And Gods, she tasted so damn good. Salty and sweet and completely feminine. How I longed to push the little scrap of fabric to one side and really lick her—to lap her sweet cunt until her honey flowed for me, until she moaned and gasped and called my name and came all over my face.

But slowly—I had to take things slowly, I reminded myself. I ended the kiss and drew back to look up at her.

“How does it feel, mon ange?” I murmured, catching her eyes.

“Good,” she admitted in a low voice. “Probably better than it should.”

“We are committing a sin,” I reminded her, trying not to laugh. “So I suppose that is a given.”

“I guess so.” She bit her lush lover lip. “When, uh, when do you think the barrier will break?”

“I think that in order to pay the tax I will need to kiss you much more deeply…without your panties in the way,” I told her candidly.

“More deeply?” Her breathing was shallower now and her eyes were wide and uncertain. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I need to put my tongue deep in your pussy and lick your naked, open cunt until your honey flows for me. Until you come,” I growled.

I watched her face to see how my words affected her. I knew that saying them—describing exactly what I wanted to do to her—made my shaft hard enough to fuck through solid stone. But I wanted to be certain I hadn’t gone too far—said more than she wanted to hear.

“Laish!” she protested again but to my intense pleasure I saw no lessening of her desire. In fact, her breathing became even faster—she was almost panting now—and her scent intensified. Oh yes, my little witch liked it when I talked dirty to her—liked it a lot.

“Will you let me, Gwendolyn?” I asked, stroking her inner thighs gently with my fingers. “Will you strip away these little panties and bare your pussy completely for me?”

“I…I shouldn’t want to,” she whispered.

“But you do.” I looked at her intently. “You want to open yourself and let me tease your clit with my tongue until you come all over my face.”

“Goddess, when you talk like that…” She shook her head, clearly unable to go on.

“I’m only telling you what I want to do, Gwendolyn,” I murmured. “Only describing exactly how I want to taste your sweet, ripe pussy.”

“Laish…” Her voice trembled and her eyes were uncertain.

“Take off your panties,” I ordered softly. I could have done it myself, could have slipped the little scrap of white lace off or simply torn it away with a single twist of my fist. But I wanted Gwendolyn to do it—wanted her to make a conscious decision to bare herself for me—to open herself completely.

For a moment I thought she wouldn’t do it. Her green eyes were huge and fearful and she bit her lip until I almost expected to see blood flow. But then, slowly, she lifted her hips and slid the panties down. I helped her slip them off her ankles and then brought the little wisp of damp fabric to my face. I inhaled deeply. Gods, she smelled good! I wanted her scent all over my face—all over my cheeks and mouth and chin. I wanted to bathe in it as she rode my tongue.

I felt my shaft surge against the black silk sleep trousers I wore at the thought, but I ignored it. Gwendolyn’s pleasure was all I was interested in right now. I wanted to make my little witch come and I wanted to hear her moan my name when she did.

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

Part of me couldn’t believe I was actually doing this—that I was taking off my panties and opening my legs to Laish. Wasn’t this what I’d sworn would never happen? What I’d sworn I would never do? Well, technically I’d only sworn I would never let him make love to me—this particular possibility hadn’t really entered my mind.

Not that I didn’t talk about it with friends. Taylor and Addison both admitted that their men were pretty partial to this act. But I’d never allowed myself to imagine me on the receiving end of it. Now that I was bare from the waist down with Laish’s broad shoulders splitting my thighs wide open, though, I found I was imagining it pretty easily.

He was on his knees, looking up at me, his eyes half-lidded and burning with lust and his lips already shiny from my juices, though he’d only kissed me through my panties as yet. Goddess, it was so embarrassing to realize how wet I’d gotten just from letting him do that! But the feel of his warm mouth on me, even through the panties, had just about sent my system into overdrive. And then there was the way he kept talking dirty. How did he know I liked that so much?

Shouldn’t like it, whispered a judgmental little voice in the back of my brain. It’s wrong…bad.

I pushed the little voice away. We had to pay the Sin Tax and Laish didn’t seem to think the barrier to the next circle would be broken until I came. So I needed to just relax and let this happen—I could worry about the consequences later.

“Mon ange,” he murmured, nuzzling my inner thighs gently. I could feel the scratch of his whiskers against my sensitive flesh, sending shivers of fear and anticipation up my spine. It was hard to believe he wanted to do this so badly, but the way he was looking at me with such intense hunger in his eyes made it clear he did.

“Laish,” I replied, wondering what to do. Should I just sit here, as I had before? Although to be honest, it had gotten pretty hard to sit still near the end there, when I could feel his tongue pressing against my clit right through the panties.

Laish seemed to sense my nervousness.

“Relax, Gwendolyn,” he said softly. “I’m just going to kiss your outer lips at first. And I promise I will be very, very gentle when I come to your clit.”

His words reassured me, as I’m sure he knew they would. He knew me by now—knew my body better than anyone else but me. I was sure he would be able to touch me in just the right away. I felt confident I could relax and let him taste me.

But knowing something and actually doing it are two different things. I was tight as a wire when Laish finally leaned in again and I felt his hot breath against my open pussy. I tensed up, almost without knowing it, but he released some of my tensing by placing a soft, tender kiss on the right side of my pussy. Then the left side…then the right again.

I was just beginning to really relax when he licked instead of kissing. He opened his mouth and sucked gently at the left side of my pussy, giving my outer folds a soft, sucking kiss.

I couldn’t hold back a moan as he did it to the other side as well. Goddess, it felt so good but was he ever going to get to my clit? I could feel it throbbing for attention, begging to be touched. I wanted him to lick me there but at the same time I wasn’t sure how it would feel. We’d already established that I was too sensitive to stand direct contact when he was touching me. Would he be able to taste me in such a delicate area or would it be too much? The panties had provided a barrier between us to keep things from getting too intense. What would his mouth and tongue feel like on me with them gone?

I didn’t have long to wonder. For at that moment, Laish finally stopped kissing and licking my outer pussy and began to explore my inner folds.

I’d been afraid he might poke me with the tip of his tongue or start lashing my sensitive little nub with it but I needn’t have worried. He was a demon of lust, after all—he knew exactly how to touch and taste me. Pressing the flat of his tongue to my pussy, he rubbed gently back and forth. It was the tiniest action imaginable and yet I felt completely stimulated. My entire pussy felt enveloped by the heat and wetness of his mouth and the small but persistent back and forth motion made my clit swell and throb with need. Sparks of pleasure shot through me and somehow I found my hands buried in his thick, black hair.

The long strands felt like silk against my fingers and the heat of his mouth pressed against my open pussy made me feel like every nerve in my body was on fire with pleasure. I moaned and pressed up against him, creating a motion of my own that felt just right.

His hands tightened on my thighs, letting me know he liked my reaction and he pressed forward, lapping my inner folds as though I was an ice cream cone of his very favorite flavor. I gasped at this new sensation and bucked my hips up, riding his tongue shamelessly.

“Laish,” I moaned. “Oh, Goddess, please…”

Somewhere in the back of my head the judgmental little voice was whispering that I was being bad…going against everything Grams had taught me. But I could barely hear it anymore. I could feel the pleasure building inside me as Laish lapped me, pushing me higher and higher as he teased me gently but persistently with his tongue.

Just as I was beginning to feel like I couldn’t take much more, he pulled back for a moment and looked up at me.

“Gods, Gwendolyn, you taste so sweet,” he growled hoarsely. “Your cunt honey is delicious. I could come just from tasting you.”

His dirty talk made me even hotter and I liked the idea of him getting so turned on by tasting me that he came himself. I couldn’t help remembering all the hot cream that had pulsed over my fist the night before. Then, for some reason, I wondered what it would feel like inside me—inside my pussy. Would it feel as hot as it had on my hand? Would he fill me to overflowing?

Stop it Gwendolyn, I scolded myself. Don’t think like that—you’re not going there!

“What is it, mon ange?” Laish was looking at me intently, his eyes still half-lidded with lust. “Why do you bite your lip and look so conflicted? Are you not enjoying yourself?”

“I am,” I admitted uncertainly. “I was just…thinking.”

“About what?” He lowered his head and placed another hot, openmouthed kiss on my open pussy. I tried not to moan as I felt his soft lips brush my throbbing clit.

“About what you said—that you could come just from, uh, tasting me.”

“And?” The thought intrigues you?” He raised an eyebrow at me and gave me a little smile.

“Yes,” I admitted. “It…turns me on. I was thinking…remembering how much you came when I touched you last night. And it made me wonder—” I stopped abruptly.

“Wonder what? Come, mon ange, tell me.” He nuzzled me gently and took a long, slow lick of my pussy, dragging his tongue lightly over my clit and making me writhe and moan.

“Made me wonder what it would feel like against me…inside me.” I could feel myself squirming in embarrassment but somehow I couldn’t seem to stop talking. “Not that I want you to…you know, come in me. I don’t want you to. But I couldn’t help wondering…”

“What it would feel like to give yourself completely?” Watching my face, he reached down and slipped two long, strong fingers deep inside my pussy. “What it would feel like to have my cock buried to the hilt in your sweet little cunt?”

As he spoke he thrust up hard. A little cry of pure lust escaped me as I felt him press against the end of my channel, illustrating his point. I arched my back and he licked me again, laving my clit with his tongue while his eyes never left my face.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely. “All spread out for me like a feast, your ripe little pussy throbbing around my fingers, your cunt honey flowing across my tongue. I love the way you look right now, Gwendolyn—so wild and wanton and open.”

“Laish…” I was torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to push his head back down between my legs and ride his face until I came. Then I cringed at my own shamelessness. Was this me, acting like a wild woman? Was this the good little girl who was never going to give herself to anyone until she found the right man, all spread open and letting a demon go down on her?

“Don’t do that.” Laish seemed to understand what was running through my head—or maybe he could just read my expressions exceptionally well.

“Don’t what?” I asked.

“Don’t second guess yourself. Don’t feel guilty for your pleasure.” He looked at me earnestly. “You’re beautiful, Gwendolyn. And you’ve been untouched, unloved for far too long. You deserve to feel good for once. You deserve to come.”

His words made me feel a little better, a little more relaxed about what was happening between us. It was true—I’d held myself back from everything that had to do with sex and sexual pleasure for more years than I cared to count. And since we had to pay the Sin Tax anyway, why shouldn’t I enjoy it? Why shouldn’t I let Laish make me come?

“That’s right, mon ange,” he murmured, stroking my thighs. “Let yourself relax. Be open to the pleasure as you are open to my tongue and fingers.”

Leaning down, he sucked my clit into his mouth and began to circle it carefully, stroking along the sensitive sides with wet, tender heat until I thought I would go insane. At the same time, I could feel his fingers pressing into me, filling me, fucking me—giving me exactly what I needed even though I couldn’t admit it out loud.

At that moment something caught my attention—a swirl of color at the corner of my eye. I turned my head without thinking and found myself caught in the mirror again.

But this time instead of showing me loved ones or monsters or inexplicable things I couldn’t understand, it simply showed me and Laish. I saw myself on my hands and knees with Laish behind me. His hands were on my hips and his thick cock was thrust to the hilt in my open pussy. I was moaning and somehow I knew we were both close to coming.

As I watched, the Laish in the mirror drew out until only the head of his cock remained inside me, his thick shaft shiny with my juices. And my image in the mirror begged him to thrust in again. To fill me with his cum and make me his completely—to take me in the most final and irrevocable way possible.

I should have been horrified by the sight. It was the loss of my innocence—the loss of half my power and all my self-respect. Yet I couldn’t look away and as the real Laish continued to tease my clit with his tongue and thrust into me with his fingers, I felt a surge of pure lust and my pleasure intensified, purshing me higher and higher, threatening to make me come even when I knew I should not.

I tried to stop but I couldn’t. Watching the illicit images and feeling Laish’s hands and mouth on me pushed me over the brink. With a low wail, I clamped my thighs tight around his head and arched my back as my orgasm took me. But as the wave of pleasure crashed down around me and I felt the familiar ripple in the air which meant the Sin Tax had been paid, a single thought echoed in my head.

No, never—I can never let him do that. No matter how much I want it, no matter how good it would feel, I can’t. I can’t!

Chapter Twenty-eight

Laish

Gwendolyn slept late the next day—I couldn’t bear to wake her. I lay there in bed watching my little witch, drinking in the sight of her lovely face relaxed in repose. I didn’t know if I would ever get to hold her and watch her this way again—in fact, I very much doubted it. I didn’t plan on getting any sleep tonight for we would be at the barrier between the sixth and seventh circles of Hell—between the Sunless Sea and the Abyss. And once we reached that critical juncture there were things that had to be done—things I abhorred.

Things that would make Gwendolyn hate me forever.

I stroked a strand of hair out of her face and tucked it carefully behind her ear. I didn’t want to betray her but I had no choice. The matter of the Mirror of the Eye last night had made some things very clear to me. One was that I cared more deeply for Gwendolyn than I had ever cared for anyone before. You might even say that I loved her if I was capable of such an emotion.

The second thing that had been made clear to me was that Gwendolyn did not feel the same for me. Oh, she might care for me and trust me—at least more than she had to begin with. But she did not love me or count me among those who were most dear to her. If she had, the mirror would have showed her my face and it hadn’t.

My heart ached with the knowledge that I wasn’t as dear to her as she was to me but I couldn’t blame her. She was trying to hold herself apart—to keep her innocence and purity. I threatened her closely held virginity and so she felt she had to distance herself from me, to keep me at arm’s length. I would do the same, were our positions reversed—or I would try, at least, I told myself.

If she had cared for me, there might have been another way through to the end of our quest—another way to do what must be done. As it was, I saw only one option and it was not a pretty one. But it had to be done in order to keep my little witch safe.

I stroked her cheek and watched her nuzzle against my hand in her sleep, a slight smile playing over her lush lips. I wanted to hold her forever, to watch her sleep and stand guard over her dreams. But there was much to do and despite my efforts to throw the HellSpawn off our scent, I had no doubt that it would find us again if we tarried in any one place too long. Especially now that it had seen Gwendolyn in the mirror and had knowledge of her whereabouts.

I sat up in bed, careful not to wake her just yet, and took the sacrificial knife and the plate I’d left out on my nightstand. Carefully I made the cut in my wrist, wincing as the bitterly cold blade bit into my flesh. I made eggs, pancakes, bacon, fresh fruit and a grapefruit half appear before placing the plate on a silver tray I had conjured and wrapping my wrist in a clean handkerchief to heal. Gwendolyn had missed both lunch and dinner the night before and I wanted her to have plenty of fuel to keep going today—we had a long road to travel ahead of us.

And nothing but heartbreak at the end of it.

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

“Wake up, mon ange. Breakfast is served.”

The smell of breakfast food, warm and comforting, tickled my nose and I stretched in the big luxurious bed Laish had carried me to the night before after he’d finished making me come. I’d fallen asleep in his arms, my head pillowed on his broad chest as he stroked my hair and whispered how much he cared for me.

It was one of the sweetest, most tender moments I’d ever shared with anyone in my life and it had been with a demon. I told myself that wasn’t right but then again, I’d also shared the hottest sexual experience of my life with Laish as well. Letting him go down on me and make me come had been more erotic than anything I’d ever imagined and more deliciously addictive than I would have believed possible. Already I wanted his hands and mouth on me again—though I knew I shouldn’t.

Just remembering the pleasure he’d given me made my toes curl and my pussy throb—but it also sent a wave of guilt washing over me.

Shouldn’t have done it, whispered a little voice in my head.

Had to do it, I argued to myself. There was no other way.

And is that what you’re going to say when you get to the last barrier—‘Oh well, I just have to fuck him? There’s no other way?’

I pushed the thought away with some difficulty. It was true, we were getting to the end of our long road today. Laish had told me the night before that once we entered the Sunless Sea, it was only a few hours journey to the last barrier—the one that separated us from the Abyss. And once we were there I would have to make some tough choices—choices I didn’t want to think about now.

“Breakfast, Gwendolyn. Aren’t you hungry?”

Laish’s deep voice and the warm smells of delicious food tugged me—I let them pull me out of my worry and guilt and tried to put my doubts and fears aside.

Opening my eyes at last, I sat up and saw that he was standing beside the bed, holding a silver tray. He was wearing another one of his immaculate suits—a black one with a red power tie that made him look like a Wall Street billionaire. But it was the tray that drew my eyes. On it was a veritable feast and a small vase with a single red rose in it. My somewhat battered Zephyrhills bottle was there too, looking plastic and cheap next to the gleaming silver and snowy linen napkin.

“Wow—this looks amazing,” I said as Laish sat it down in front of me. “Breakfast in bed—what did I do to deserve this?”

He propped some pillows behind my back and smiled.

“Nothing—merely trusted me.”

“Trusted you?” I frowned and then his meaning sank in. “Oh, you mean to…” I felt my cheeks get hot as I remembered all over again exactly how much trust I had placed in him, spreading my thighs and letting him lick me…

“Don’t get flustered, Gwendolyn,” he murmured, handing me a fork. “Just eat.”

“Fine.” Trying to cover my confusion, I took a big bite of scrambled eggs. They were delicious—fluffy and light with just a hint of salt and pepper—just how I liked them.

“Is it good?” Laish asked, pouring a little syrup on my pancakes.

“Amazing,” I said, going for another bite.

“I am glad. You had next to nothing to eat yesterday—you must be starving.”

“I am,” I said. “I feel like I could eat a horse. Or—”

Then I stopped with a forkful of scrambled eggs halfway to my mouth when I remembered exactly why I hadn’t eaten much the day before.

“Or?” Laish raised an eyebrow at me.

“Did you hurt yourself to make this for me?” I asked suspiciously. “I know you did, Laish. You got it all ready before I woke up so I couldn’t protest about you cutting yourself, didn’t you?”

“Don’t be silly—I simply wanted to serve you breakfast in bed,” he said lightly.

I frowned. “I don’t want you to do that anymore—I don’t like the idea of you having awful pain just to feed me.”

He frowned back. “Gwendolyn, be reasonable. I cannot let you starve. And besides, it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as Belial led you to believe.”

“That’s not what you said last night,” I accused. “You said—”

“Your food is getting cold, mon ange,” he said, rising from the side of the bed where he’d been sitting. “Think of this, if it did give me pain to prepare it for you, then it would be very remiss of you to waste it in arguing when you could have been putting my sacrifice to good use.”

“Fine,” I muttered, spearing another bite of eggs, since the one on my fork had gotten cold. “But at least tell me how you do it. Why is it that you can make food that won’t damn me with your own blood? You never really explained it before.”

He sighed and sat back down on the bed again.

“It has to do with the fact that I was not always as you see me. And no—I will not discuss what I was with you now—we have too much to do. But when I make the Sacrifice of Blood for you, I am drawing on that small part inside me that is still the original being I was created as. There are a few—a very few—drops of good still within me. These are what I use to make the food for you. It is not my blood—though it looks like it—but the few pure drops of my essence that I am transmuting into sustenance for you.”

“But…won’t you use up all your goodness—I mean, all that you have left—feeding me? If you’ve only got a few drops?” I asked anxiously.

He shook his head. “Actually, the reverse is true. Each time I sacrifice for you—each time I bear pain for the sake of another—the good in me is multiplied. So technically I could continue feeding you in this way forever. Because good begets good as evil begets evil.”

“Oh.” I cut a piece of pancake and chewed it thoughtfully. “So does it hurt because you’re having to separate the good out from the evil?”

“Something like that.” He patted my knee. “And now, please just eat. We have a very long day ahead of us. I will leave some clothing for you in the bathroom and I suggest you take a nice, hot shower before we go. It is likely to be the last one you get while you remain in the Infernal Realm.”

I did as he suggested. After finishing my breakfast—I really was starving—I took a hot, refreshing shower and then changed into the clothing he’d provided. Today’s outfit consisted of a long, silky sleeveless gown of white with a pattern of blood red flowers on it. It had a slit up either thigh to make riding easier and there was also a hooded, long-sleeved traveling cloak in dove gray to go over it. For shoes I was still wearing my little black ballet flats but Laish must’ve had someone clean and mend them thoroughly. They looked like new but when I slipped them on, they still fit me with the comfort of perfectly broken in shoes.

Eryn settled on my shoulder, looking like a delicate snowflake on the dove gray cloak, as I packed the spell books and the book on angels Laish had said I could keep in my leather satchel. I was tempted to go back to the library and look for more but it really wasn’t practical to lug so many heavy books around Hell. Reluctantly, I decided to make do with what I had.

Descending the spiral stair case I couldn’t help hearing voices floating up from the bottom floor.

“I tell you, my Lord, Druaga is insisting on having a hearing and I think the Council of Elder Demons is going to agree to it.” It was Belial’s voice—I was certain.

“He has no case against me.” Laish sounded bored and preoccupied. “Once they realize that, they will dismiss it out of hand.”

“They may not,” Belial said. “They do not wish to lose their privileges at the Hotel Infernal—it is the only decent place to stay in Baator where many of them conduct business. For that reason alone they will at least hear his grievance.”

“I will deal with it on my return,” Laish told him. “Right now I have no time.”

“You have no time for anything but that mortal female.” Was there a faint note of bitterness in Belial’s tone? “Did you make the Sacrifice of Blood for her again this morning?”

“And if I did?” Laish’s deep voice held a warning growl. “What business is it of yours?”

“It is the business of our entire realm!” Belial exclaimed. “Need I remind you, my Lord, of how narrow the margin between good and evil is for you? You have always walked a fine line—if the balance within you should tip in the wrong direction—”

“You need not fear about that,” Laish said briskly. “Tonight I shall be committing an act that will bring me firmly back into balance.”

I wondered what in the world he was talking about. Was he planning to do something evil? Or good? Or what? And was I going to be involved?

Just then I reached the bottom of the stairs and Bobbin rushed up to me.

“Good morning, my Lady Gwendolyn,” he squeaked, sounding out of breath. “Master Belial said you were leaving this morning and I wanted to see you off.”

“Hello, Bobbin—that’s very sweet of you.” I tried to smile at the little imp though I couldn’t help feeling a little annoyed. Had Laish been going to say anything else about tonight? Should I be worried?

But Laish had obviously heard our exchange. He and Belial were already coming around to the foot of the staircase.

“Hello, mon ange. You’re looking refreshed.” He smiled at me and took my hand. “Are you ready to resume our journey?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I smiled at him, trying to put my fears behind me. After last night, how could I doubt him again? He had seen me in the Mirror of the Eye—he had to care for me. There was no way he was pretending or trying to fool me into trusting him for some nefarious purpose—was there?

It’s all right, I told myself. He was probably just trying to make Belial feel better when he said he was going to do something to restore his balance. It’s probably nothing.

“Good morning, Master Belial,” I said to the old demon, coolly. I hadn’t forgotten his words to Laish—that he should have left me for the Skitterlings.

Belial gave me a forced-looking smile and nodded.

“Good morning—you look lovely my dear.”

“Thank you.” I turned to Laish. “Is Kurex saddled and ready to go?”

“Indeed he is—and very ready to be off.”

We turned to go but I felt a tugging at the hem of my traveling cloak. Turning back, I saw it was Bobbin, looking hopefully up at me.

“Yes, Bobbin,” I said, bending down to talk to him. “What is it?”

“I got you something, my Lady Gwendolyn.” He’d been holding one hand behind his back and now he brought out a beautiful flower with gold and orange and red petals that curled outward, rather like an orchid.

“Oh, Bobbin—that’s gorgeous,” I said, taking it from him. “Thank you!”

“It’s from one of the flame-flower plants that grow by the Lake of Fire,” he explained, grinning shyly. “I have a cousin who lives there—he brought me one of the plants to tend. They only bloom when you put them in a hot enough fire.”

“Was that you, teasing the watch-dragon this morning, Bobbin?” Belial demanded, glaring down at the little imp. “Were you trying to get it to breathe fire to make your blasted plant bloom?”

The little imp scuffed at the floor nervously with one hoof.

“I only wanted something nice to give to the pretty lady before she left, Master. Please, don’t punish me.”

“No, don’t punish him,” I said, patting his curly little head. “Don’t you dare—he was just being sweet.”

Belial glowered and I began to think there was something sinister behind his kindly old demon façade. But he only nodded his head briefly.

“As my Lady wishes.”

“Thank you.” Leaning down, I gave little Bobbin a kiss on the cheek before straightening up.

“Oh, my Lady!” he squeaked, his face glowing as he clapped his little hand to the cheek I’d kissed. “Thank you—thank you! I shall never wash my face again!”

“You most certainly will!” Belial growled. “Come back here, Bobbin!”

But the little imp was already scampering away, his hand still held firmly to his cheek, his little hooves tap-tap-tapping across the marble floor.

I turned to go with Laish and saw that he had a most unusual expression on his face. He was staring at me curiously with a little half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“What is it?” I asked as we walked out of the huge skull and into the courtyard where Kurex was stamping restlessly.

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “It is only that I still cannot understand the affinity the creatures of Hell have for you.”

“Not all of them,” I pointed out. “This is the first time I’ve kissed anyone but you since I got here but I’ve been attacked something like three or four times.”

“More like five or six,” he corrected, helping me mount the horse. “But still, there are some creatures here that seem drawn to you—myself included.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know—maybe it has to do with me being a witch.”

“Maybe.” But he sounded doubtful. “At any rate, let us be going. We still need to stop at The Hoof before we can cross the barrier.”

“Why are we stopping there?” I asked as he guided Kurex back out onto the cobblestone road. The big horse’s shoes clopped loudly against the stone and echoed off the bone buildings on either side.

“You’ll see. It won’t take long.” Laish sounded grim for some reason but I didn’t ask why.

We passed through the busy town where, as before, everyone seemed to be going somewhere in a hurry, with a distracted frown on his or her face. I wondered if anyone ever smiled in this circle of Hell. Certainly, it was much more pleasant than most of the other circles I had visited, but while nobody was being tortured, they didn’t seem to be enjoying themselves either. Maybe they all had a low level depression or something—that in itself would be a kind of torture, even if not the obvious kind.

It wasn’t long before we stopped in front of an enormous hoof—seriously, it was as big as a two story house. And that was what it had been turned into—well, a two story tavern, anyway. There was a wooden sign hanging up outside which simply said, The Hoof, and demons and lost souls of all descriptions were going in and out of it, presumably catching a quick drink before they headed back to whatever work they were doing.

“Stay here on Kurex’s back,” Laish told me, pulling the horse to a halt and swinging off. “I will only be a moment.”

“Why can’t I come in?” I asked, frowning. “I’d like to see inside.”

“It would not be safe for you.” He frowned back. “Do you remember that you promised to do as I said from now on?”

“I remember I said I’d listen to you.” I sighed. “Fine, go inside. It’s too early in the day for a glass of wine or beer anyway.”

He grinned. “As to that, I do not think you would like the libations served at The Hoof. The ale has dragon’s bile in it and the wine is crushed from grapes watered by the blood of the innocent.”

“What? Eww!” I exclaimed. “That’s awful!”

“No, that’s Hell.” He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Surely you are not surprised after everything else you have witnessed here?”

“I guess not.” I sighed. “Look, just try not to take too long, okay? It makes me nervous to be out here without you.”

I didn’t like admitting that but I couldn’t help it. Every time we were separated, bad things seemed to happen. And I’d had enough awful adventures in the past few days to last me a lifetime.

“It will be the work of a moment. I already see the one I am here to meet.” He nodded at a huge demon with the head of a bull and the body of a man, leaning against the outer wall of The Hoof. The creature—I guessed it was a Minotaur—had a long black box under its arm. When it saw Laish, it nodded back and lumbered into the tavern.

Laish followed it and I wondered what in the world they were talking about in there. I didn’t have long to wonder, though, because in a matter of minutes Laish came out with the long black box I’d seen the Minotaur holding.

“What’s that?” I asked as he tucked it into Kurex’s saddle bags and swung up behind me again.

“Insurance,” he said shortly. “Come, it’s time to pass through the barrier.”

“Where is it?” I asked.

“Just ahead at the end of this road. You cannot see it, of course, but in a matter of moments we will pass through and be in the middle of the Sunless Sea.”

“In the middle of it?” I felt a surge of fear. “Now, just hold on a minute,” I said, turning in the saddle to look at Laish. “All this time I thought we were going to be on the shore or the beach or something like that. Nobody said anything about in the middle of the ocean—I wasn’t exactly on the high school swim team, you know. And—”

But just at that moment we reached the end of the street and the entire city of Dis completely vanished. The bright daylight turned abruptly to night and Kurex’s hooves were thunking on sand instead of clopping on cobblestones.

“What in the world?” I looked around, bewildered.

“No, what in Hell,” Laish corrected me. “This, mon ange, is the Sunless Sea, the sixth level of Hell.”

“But…” I shook my head, not understanding. “All I see is sand—where’s the water?”

“Look up.” He gestured directly above our heads.

I did as he said and nearly screamed.

About twenty feet straight up a massive stretch of black water was flowing. Actually, it was all around us, I saw. We were surrounded by water which was held back somehow by an invisible barrier.

The closest thing to it I could imagine was some of the underwater rides and tunnels in Sea World, where you walk through a clear plastic tube and see the sharks and fish swimming all around you. But when you go in one of those tunnels, you can see the plastic or plexiglass or whatever it is they use to build the tunnel surrounding you, keeping the water out. Here, there was nothing—nothing I could see, anyway. The water was just there, flowing silently all around us, with no apparent reason for not filling the space we were in and drowning us.

“It’s Infernal Magic which holds the waters back,” Laish answered my unspoken question. “Do not worry, Gwendolyn—we are quite safe.”

“Are we?” I was still scanning the “roof” of the long tunnel we were in as Kurex kept on walking. My memory of the tunnels at Sea World was renewed as I saw a Great White shark pass directly overhead—only this was a shark the size of a school bus!

“What the Hell?” I muttered, looking up at it.

“A Megaladon,” Laish remarked. “Extinct in the Mortal Realm now for millions of years. Yet it thrives here, along with many of its brethren.”

“Like that thing?” I pointed to something that was even bigger than the enormous shark. It had a long, pointed snout a little like a crocodile filled with razor sharp teeth. It could have used me for a toothpick or swallowed me without even realizing it—it was that big.

“A Mosasaur,” Laish said laconically. “One of the largest predators every to stalk the ocean. I remember when the depths were full of such beasts—long before the Creator turned his attention to man.”

“So you were around during the age of the dinosaurs?” I couldn’t help staring at him. He’d talked more than once about mortals having such a short life span we were like moths or butterflies but it hadn’t really sunk in for me. Somehow knowing that Laish had been around to see these ancient beasts roam the planet seemed to put everything into perspective.

He gave me a mocking little smile.

“Now don’t tell me you’ll let a little thing like age difference get in the way of our relationship.”

Since I didn’t know exactly what our relationship was, I didn’t know how to answer that.

“It’s just weird, that’s all,” I muttered. “I—oh, look—Nessie!”

For just to the right side of us, so close to the invisible barrier I felt like I could go stroke its broad, paddle-like fins, was a creature that looked exactly like what the Lock Ness Monster is supposed to be.

“A long necked Plesiosaur,” Laish said. “I did hear that one of them had escaped back through the dimensional gateway to the Mortal Realm.”

“Really?” I couldn’t take my eyes off the creature. It was huge, of course, but also sleek and graceful. It had a long, snaky neck and a small head with large black eyes. I knew it was crazy but I wanted to pet it. “Can we touch them?” I asked Laish. “I mean, can we reach through the magic barrier?”

“You could,” he said dryly. “If you didn’t mind losing a hand…or an arm. Look.”

The Nessie I had been admiring turned its head and stared at us, as though just noticing we were there. Then it spread its jaws and dived right for us, aiming its entire huge body like a torpedo.

I couldn’t help screaming this time—especially when I saw that it had teeth every bit as sharp and deadly as the Mosasaur.

Laish’s arm tightened around my waist. “No fear, my darling—it cannot harm you,” he murmured in my ear.

Sure enough, the huge creature bounced off the invisible barrier without coming close to breaching it. It shook its head a little, as though it had hit something hard and then swam away quickly, shooting out of sight so fast it was soon just a silvery gray shape gliding away in the gloom.

“Some of the stupider creatures do not understand the barrier and charge it more than once,” Laish said. “This one, thankfully, learned its lesson the first time.”

“So how far does this sea go?” I asked as Kurex continued his steady pace along the dry, sandy sea bed.

“It is far vaster than any in the Mortal Realm,” he remarked. “Hundreds of thousands of leagues in every direction. And it is filled with leviathans and monsters of the past.”

“Fascinating,” I murmured, watching as a giant, glowing creature that looked like an immense squid floated quietly past.

“It is,” he agreed. “Luckily this tunnel was built to connect the fifth and seventh circles of Hell or the way would be completely impassible and we would never reach the Abyss.”

I could see his point. Even in a well equipped boat, how could you possibly hope to sail hundreds of thousands of miles through waters filled with prehistoric monsters, all of them eager to take a bite out of you?

We traveled for hours through the half light that filtered down through the sea above. It was a strange, watery bluish-green and our journey was completely silent except for the clop-clop of Kurex’s hooves. Above us and around us, strange creatures swam. Some of them were horrible to look at, with jagged teeth and the flat, dead eyes of predators that made me shiver. But many of them were strangely beautiful. They seemed to fly through the water, glowing pink and purple and electric blue, adding neon stripes to the plain white sand and a magical, unreal feeling to our journey.

Years later when I remembered my time in Hell, this was the part of our trip that I went back to in my mind with longing. It was so quiet, so peaceful. And aside from the Lock Ness Monster thing charging us, it was certainly the most uneventful.

I thought of about a thousand things I wanted to say to Laish—questions I wanted answers to, mostly—but something stopped me from talking. He was so quiet, seeming content just to hold me against him as we traveled. And I felt content to be held by him. I didn’t want to disturb him or break the dreamy, magical mood that had somehow fallen over the two of us with questions or possibly arguments. So I simply let myself relax back against him as I looked up, watching the strange creatures that swam overhead and trying not to think about how soon the end of our journey was coming.

We stopped for a very late lunch under a glowing octopus looking creature that was about twenty times bigger than any octopus I had ever heard of. It seemed to be resting on the top of the invisible tunnel and it shed a soft pink light on the sand below that was strange but beautiful.

Laish made me a sandwich with a single drop of blood—I didn’t let him make anything more elaborate—and got out a few provisions for himself. We spread a blanket from Kurex’s newly restocked saddle bags and ate. I didn’t know why but I felt sad—as if this was the last meal we would share together. I told myself I was being silly—surely we would have dinner as well as breakfast the next morning, but I couldn’t shake the feeling somehow.

As we were packing up, Laish took out the long, black box he’d gotten from the Minotaur and opened it.

“What’s that?” I asked, coming to stand beside him.

“It’s for you—but you must only use it in the last extremity.”

“The last extremity—what do you mean by that?”

“If you have no other hope and we have been separated, or you see me die,” he said quietly.

“What? Why would you die? Nobody’s dying here!” I could hear the panic in my voice but couldn’t control it. I didn’t like the idea of Laish leaving me or dying—not one bit.

“Calm yourself, mon ange, it is a precaution only.”

He drew from the box a long knife with a silver handle and a black blade. Which seemed strange—I’d never seen black metal before. In fact, it almost looked like the exact opposite of the little knife he used to cut himself when he made me food.

“What is that?” I asked, drawing back a little. I could feel the power pulsing off it—dark energy coming in wave after wave from the strange, black blade.

“A thrak.” He pronounced the word as a thick, guttural sound in the back of his throat. “It will kill any creature of Hell you stab it into—no matter how ancient or relentless.”

“Like the HellSpawn?” I asked in a low voice. I didn’t want to say it too loudly, almost as if naming the thing that was tracking me would bring it to me.

Laish nodded. “Exactly. But you must be very careful using it. Each time you plunge it into your enemy, it costs a piece of your soul.”

“What?” I drew even further back from the blade. “I don’t want to lose my soul—not even a little piece of it.”

“It may be unavoidable,” Laish said grimly. “I cannot wield the thrak myself as I have no soul to use as ammunition. But you can—only, however, if you are threatened and there is no other way.”

“But…you’re going to be with me right up until the end, right? I mean, you’re not leaving me at the edge of the next barrier or anything?” I tried to keep my voice calm but I could hear the anxiety creeping into my tone.

Laish cupped my cheek with the hand not holding the dagger.

“Mon ange, I will be with you for as long as I possibly can. I wish to see you safely back to the Mortal Realm, as I promised your grandmother I would.” He stroked my face gently. “I care for you—and as much as I can, I love you. Remember that, no matter what happens.”

“I…” I didn’t know what to say. Should I tell him I loved him back? Did I?

But then the moment passed. Laish put the thrak into a black sheath and strung it on a belt which he made me wear. I didn’t want an object with so much dark power close to me but he insisted.

“It is to keep you safe,” he said sternly. “Keep it with you, Gwendolyn, but only draw it in the direst need.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” I said as we remounted Kurex. “I don’t want my soul to look like a piece of Swiss cheese.”

“As to that, your soul would regenerate in time,” he said, kicking the horse’s sides to get him moving again. “In this way it is much like your human organ, the liver. You can donate a lobe of it to someone else and eventually your own will regrow. But it takes time.”

I hadn’t known that about the liver—or the soul for that matter. Duraga had said something like it when he had showed me the soul hook, but I had assumed he was just lying in an attempt to make me give him the “taste” he’d been craving. Knowing it was truly possible to lose and regrow part of my soul was food for thought as we continued our journey.

I just hoped I’d never have to put my new knowledge into practice.

* * * * *

Laish

Much sooner than I would have liked, we reached the barrier between the Sunless Sea and the Abyss. It was invisible of course but I could feel it thrumming in the air ahead of us. Also, though Gwendolyn could not, I could see through it to the vast pit. There lived creatures so terrible even I could not name them—if you could call what they did living.

My little witch was still looking up at the dark sea and its inhabitants, swimming overhead, and hadn’t noticed that we were coming to the end of our long road. I took the opportunity to scan the way ahead, looking for the headless bulk of the HellSpawn, wondering if it might be waiting for us in some dark corner—eager to pounce once the barrier came down.

To my surprise, I neither saw it nor felt it—for some reason the HellSpawn was nowhere near. I couldn’t help the feeling of unease that stole over me. Where was it? It had proved itself exceptionally intelligent for its kind, using the Mirror of the Eye to track Gwendolyn. It had almost led her into a trap the night before so I expected another attempt at any time. The fact that it wasn’t around didn’t put me at ease—rather, it increased my trepidation.

I had been hoping to spend one more night with Gwendolyn before we brought the barrier down and moved into the area surrounding the Abyss. One more night of holding her in my arms, one more night of feeling that she cared—at least a little—for me.

One more night before she hated me.

Yet my gut instinct told me that this would be a grave mistake. We needed to pay the Sin Tax and bring down the barrier sooner rather than later. To that end, I had come prepared.

“We’re here,” I said in Gwendolyn’s ear. She had been looking up at a school of tiny, bioluminescent fish darting back and forth above us. But the dreamy expression on her lovely face faded when she heard my words.

“We are? Where’s the barrier?”

“Directly in front of us,” I told her. “We must stop here until we break it.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before turning to face me. “Laish,” she began. “I don’t know what to say. This entire journey I’ve been thinking of what I would do when we came to this point. And…”

“And?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

She blew out a breath. “And I still don’t know. I guess…” She bit her lip. “I guess it’s going to take a pretty big sin to break this last barrier.”

“It will,” I acknowledged quietly.

“So we’re going to have to…to…”

“Make love?” I finished for her. “Possibly. But there may be another way.”

“What?” She frowned at me. “What other way?”

“You’ll see.” I drew Kurex to a halt and began unloading the special saddle bags I had packed.

“What’s all that?” Gwendolyn’s face looked uncertain in the greenish-blue light.

“It’s everything you need, my little witch,” I told her. “Come help me—we are going to do a summoning.”

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

“A what?” I frowned as I saw the things he was unloading. A small folding table… a rich burgundy cloth with golden designs embroidered into it…one large white pillar candle and four smaller colored ones… “And why did you bring all this stuff with us instead of just conjuring it?”

“I wish to keep all my power intact in case of a confrontation,” he said obliquely as he helped me down from Kurex’s back. “I trust you understand my meaning, Gwendolyn.”

“Of course.”

I felt a chill go through me as I remembered the HellSpawn that was tracking me. I wanted Laish at full strength too. But why had he brought all the necessary equipment for a summoning spell? As I watched he withdrew a golden chalice and a silver athame—a ceremonial knife used in many witchcraft rituals.

“Who are we summoning?” I asked as he led Kurex to the edge of the magical tunnel and told him to stay. The big horse stood quietly, not even flicking an ear when a prehistoric beast that could have swallowed him in two bites glided by not three inches from him.

“Never mind that yet,” Laish beckoned to me. He had already set up the small folding table and draped it with the burgundy and gold cloth, creating a makeshift altar. Upon it he placed the chalice, the candles, and the athame. “Call the circle, Gwendolyn,” he told me.

Feeling strange, I did as he said. I drew a circle in the sand, wide enough to encompass both Laish and myself and the small altar. Then, taking the first colored candle, I lifted it. Laish hadn’t provided me with a lighter so I gave it to him with a raised eyebrow. Smiling a little, he blew on the wick and it lit, the small flame blooming in response to his power.

I took the lit candle a little way away and stood it upright carefully in the sand. As I did, I spoke the words of the ritual, calling the circle.

“Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers of the East. Spirits of Air, powers of Thought. I call upon you to lend your essence to this rite.”

I took the next candle and Laish lit it. This one I buried in the sand a little way back in the direction we had come.

“Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers of the South. Spirits of Fire, powers of Will. I call upon you to lend your essence to this rite.”

And then the next candle. “Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers of the West. Spirits of Water, powers of Emotion…”

It was the same spell I had used to summon Laish himself, so many months ago when I’d thought he was just a minor demon who couldn’t hurt me. Now I knew better—much better and I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. At least, I wasn’t afraid he would hurt me physically. But all his talk of dying and his insistence that I wear the cursed dagger at my hip made me extremely nervous. I had to admit that it would hurt to lose him—a pain worse than any physical torture he might have inflicted if he was a different kind of demon.

“Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers of the North,” I said, taking the last candle from Laish. I used it to light the large white pillar candle on the altar and then placed it at the head of the circle. “Spirits of Earth, powers of Stability. I call upon you to lend your essence to this rite. I conjure ye, O Circle of Light to be a temple between the worlds, in the name of the Goddess who binds us all together. Wherefore do I bless and consecrate thee. So Mote It Be.”

It’s not always necessary to call the circle in order to do magic—in fact, it’s mostly just for high rituals like the Great Rite. But it felt right to do so now, though I couldn’t have said why. I still didn’t understand why Laish had asked me to do it but I trusted him when he said it was necessary.

“Raise a cup to the Goddess,” he murmured to me. He was already pouring water from my battered Zephyrhills bottle into the golden chalice as he spoke.

“It would be better if it was wine,” I remarked.

“That can be accomplished.” Lifting the silver athame, he held it out to me.

I took it automatically, not understanding what he wanted until he held his hand, palm out, over the cup.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I protested.

“Do, it Gwendolyn. It’s necessary.”

He nodded insistently until I very reluctantly pressed the sharp tip of the athame into the heel of his hand. A single ruby red droplet welled up and fell into the chalice filled with water. At once the ruby color spread to the water and a rich, fruity aroma began to rise from it.

“Oh!” I looked at it uncertainly and then sniffed it.

“It’s wine—a very good wine, I think,” Laish murmured. “Now you must add a single drop of your own blood as well.”

“Why?” I wasn’t sure why he wanted me to—it wasn’t the usual ritual. In fact, the only ritual I could think of that required a drop of each of the participants’ blood in a cup consecrated to the Goddess was the handfasting rite. It was a binding together of the male and female spirits—a kind of marriage in a way. But I was certain that wasn’t what Laish was after—was it? “Why do you need my blood in the cup too?” I asked again when he didn’t answer.

“Because mortal magic in Hell is tricky,” he said, clearly catching my confused look. “You must bind yourself to the spell to make it work, just as I have. Blood is binding.”

“Well…all right.” Lifting the athame, I pricked my index finger and let a single droplet of blood fall into the ruby red wine. Laish nodded in satisfaction.

“Very good. Now raise a cup to the Goddess, mon ange, and let us continue.”

I shrugged. “Fine. Though I doubt she’d be able to hear us or help us in Hell—or even that she’d want to.” Then I raised the cup and spoke a blessing, calling on the Goddess to hear us and bless our efforts that night. I took a sip and handed it to Laish. He also sipped and for a brief moment, I thought I saw his eyes glowing a bright, ruby red, almost like two red stars. Then they subsided and he placed the chalice back on the altar.

“All right,” I said. “It’s done. Who do you want me to summon?”

“You will not be doing the summoning tonight, my little witch.” His eyes gleamed. “I will.”

Then with a wave of his hand and a word of power so strong it made my eyes sting and my eardrums throb, he brought someone else into the circle.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Gwendolyn

For a moment, I didn’t recognize the figure crouching on the sand in front of us. Then he lifted his head and I saw the gleam of a single golden tooth in the front of his mouth.

“Oh my Goddess…” I took a step back and the chalice fell from my nerveless fingers, red wine gurgling over the thirsty sand which soaked it up immediately. “What have you done, Laish?”

“Where the fuck am I?” the man demanded. “Hey…” He squinted at me. “Ain’t you Keisha’s big sister? The one always tryin’ to get her to leave me?”

“You…you…” I took a step back but I needn’t have bothered. Laish pointed one finger at the man and uttered another word of power.

The man—Ray, my little sister’s pimp—was suddenly frozen in place. I saw his muscles tensing and twitching under the dirty baggy jeans and stained white wife-beater t-shirt he wore. But he clearly wasn’t going anywhere. There was nothing wrong with his voice, though.

“Hey, let me go! What did you do to me, you bitch?” he demanded, clearly thinking I was the reason for his immobility.

“I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head when you speak to my consort,” Laish told him, coming around to stand in front of the crouching man. “Or you risk getting it cut out.”

The silver athame was suddenly in his hand but instead of using it on the pimp, he held it out to me.

“Come, Gwendolyn,” he said in a calm voice. “You have called the circle and we have summoned a known criminal—a corruptor of souls and a defiler of innocence—into our midst. This will be a justified kill—it need not stain your soul forever, not now that the proper precautions have been taken.”

“What…what are you saying?” I backed away from him, refusing to take the athame.

“I’m saying that this man, who has hurt your sister so deeply for so many years, needs to die. And you need a way to pay the Sin Tax and break the barrier between us and the Abyss. All your problems can be solved in one fell swoop if you will only wield the knife.” He held it out to me, more insistently this time.

Finally my numb brain thawed and I understood.

Laish hadn’t had me call the circle to perform a summoning…no, what he wanted was a sacrifice.

“I…I don’t know.” My words came out as a croak.

“Come, you were more than ready last night when you saw him harming your sister in the mirror.” Laish took my hand impatiently and put the knife into it, curling my numb fingers around the handle. “Do it, Gwendolyn,” he insisted in a low voice. “I cannot do it for you—you must make the stroke that ends his miserable life to pay the tax.”

Feeling like I was moving in a dream, I took a tighter grip on the knife and moved in to stand by the man who had caused my little sister so much grief and pain. He’d hooked her on drugs, beaten her, used her sexually and whored her out to other men like she was nothing but an object to be bought and sold. He’d treated her the way I wouldn’t treat a dog I didn’t like and I hated him for it—loathed him for it.

Laish is right, I thought grimly. He deserves to die.

I took hold of his mop of greasy brown hair and yanked his head back, baring his dirty throat.

“Hey, now lady—don’t do that! What the hell, I mean—”

Laish spoke another word of power and Ray fell silent. His mouth was clenched tight, his jaw muscles bunching as though he was still trying to speak but nothing came out. Not that I would have cared what he said, even if he’d been able to talk.

I raised the athame high, intending to bring it down and cut his throat in a single, savage slice. I would kill him for all he had done to Keisha. I would sacrifice his life and in so doing, save my own—save my power from being halved.

Then I heard a little voice, speaking in my ear.

Not like this, Gwendolyn! it cried. He deserves to die but not like this—not by your hand! You’ll never be the same person if you do this—you’ll never be able to look at yourself in the mirror again. Don’t lower yourself to this level. Don’t stain your soul. Don’t!

The strange, dream-like state I’d somehow fallen into abruptly shattered and I realized what I’d been about to do. I’d been about to kill a man—to commit murder. Call it what you want—a sacrifice…a justified killing…but what it boiled down to was murder.

I’d wanted Ray dead for years—wanted him out of Keisha’s life. The revenge spell I’d been working on would have caused him to wither away as long as he was with her. He would have wound up an old man in a matter of months and if he continued to harass her, he eventually would have died. But working a spell of revenge from a distance and actually slitting his throat and watching the ruby streams of blood pump out onto the sand were two different things. I hated this man with my whole heart but could I actually kill him in cold blood? Could I let myself go that far into the darkness? A darkness from which I might never return?

Last night I had been willing. But then I had been under the influence of the HellSpawn, manipulating me through the mirror, and the darkness had nearly swallowed me. I had called the evil into myself, willing myself to be able to kill. And I understood now that was the only way I could commit this act—the only way I could take his life. Should I open myself to the evil again? Could I do it again?

My answer came when the athame fell from my hand to thump harmlessly on the sand at my feet.

“I can’t,” I whispered, backing away from the straining Ray, whose eyes were rolling crazily in his frozen face. “I can’t do this—I’m sorry.”

“Think before you make your decision, Gwendolyn,” Laish said softly, picking up the athame. His eyes were glowing like two red stars and I thought I had never seen him look so handsome…or so demonic.

“You’re tempting me,” I accused him breathlessly.

“No, I am trying to save you grief. You have only two choices here,” he murmured. “Either surrender your innocence to me and lose half your power, or sacrifice the hornless goat and kill this man who has wronged your sister. No other sins are strong enough to pay the tax and pass through the barrier into the Abyss.”

“I know,” I whispered, backing away. “I know it, Laish but I…I can’t. Grams wouldn’t want me to—wouldn’t want me to go all the way into the darkness. And…and I don’t want to either. I know you said it wouldn’t stain my soul forever but it would. And it would change me. I wouldn’t be the same person anymore. I’d be someone else—someone I wouldn’t like. Someone I don’t want to be.”

He stood for a moment, holding the athame loosely in one hand and regarding me with a mixture of sadness and resignation on his face. Then he nodded once.

“So mote it be,” he said and plunged the silver athame’s blade directly into Ray’s heart.

The pimp gave a choked gurgle and then collapsed on the ground. Before his blood could even stain the sand, Laish made a violent gesture and spoke another word of power. As suddenly as he had appeared, Ray vanished.

There was nothing left to show that he had been there at all but the equipment Laish had brought for the summoning and the throbbing of my own sore heart.

* * * * *

Laish

I had known that she wouldn’t be able to perform the sacrifice. Not my tender hearted little witch. As much as she planned and schemed for her revenge spell, I knew that when it came to the point, she would be unable to commit murder.

I, as a demon, however, had no such qualms. This man deserved to die. I had done some quiet checking into his life before deciding on this course of action and Keisha was not the only girl whose life he had ruined and whose innocence he had despoiled. He was not above murder himself, either. A life for a life has always been the rule from ancient times and this man owed many. I was happy to make him pay if for no other reason than to free my beloved’s cherished sister from bondage to him.

I was worried, however, about the way Gwendolyn was looking at me. There was fear in her green eyes now—fear and rage. I hadn’t anticipated this, though perhaps I should have. She was ever a strong-willed woman—it was no wonder she was angry at me for manipulating her. If only she knew that was the least of what I had in mind—there were even greater betrayals in store. But for now, this was sufficient to make her enraged with me, I could see.

“You…how could you?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “How could you put me in that position? What are you doing—tempting me to stain my soul so completely I’ll have no chance to go to Heaven when I die? Is that it? You want me to wind up here in Hell with you permanently?”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” I said, honestly enough. “But no, that was not my plan.” Little did she know I had more direct methods in mind to tie her to me.

“Then what?” She walked around the sacred circle she had called, blowing out the candles. “Why make me participate in that…that perversion of a ritual?”

“To give you another way to pay the tax without losing your innocence,” I said, trying to make my voice soft and coaxing.

Behind her I could see through the barrier into the Abyss. It was a vast, bottomless pit filled with evil creatures older than time—the Ancient Ones. Their long tentacles were writhing and reaching, searching to clutch any unwary soul that came too close.

And there, on the far side of that chasm of nightmares, was a shining, silver light. Just a slender beam but I could see it—it was coming from the door that my little witch had left open when she rescued her friend. It was a door that only someone with her soul signature could close and it was balanced on the furthest, most dangerous edge of the Abyss.

An edge I could not let her walk.

“Gwendolyn…” I stepped towards her but she eluded my touch. I was having none of that, however. “Gwendolyn,” I said again and took her by the shoulders.

“Let me go!” She struggled but I held her firmly—I needed to look her in the face when I said what I had to say.

“What is it?” she snapped and her green eyes were filled with rage and pain. “What do you want with me?”

“Only to let you know this—I care for you deeply, my darling. More deeply than I can say.”

“I know how you feel. I just…don’t understand why you did what you did.” She blinked, trying not to cry. It made my heart sore to see her pain but I knew I must continue—there was no other way.

“Gwendolyn,” I murmured. “Do you really think I want to hold you against your will? There are so many other ways I could have done that if I wished. The very food of the Infernal Realm has the power to damn you to Hell for eternity but have I not fed you of myself to keep that from happening?”

“Well…yes,” she admitted grudgingly. I could see her relenting and so I pressed a little harder.

“Have I not protected you and sacrificed for you and shielded you from harm as well as I am able?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Gwendolyn,” I whispered, stroking her cheek. “Did the Mirror of the Eye not show that you are in my heart? You know that I cannot be lying to you when I tell you how I feel for you.”

“I know.” She nodded and pressed her soft cheek into my palm. “I know, Laish.”

I had her exactly where I wanted her and it made my heart ache. Yet, there was no other way now—she had rejected the sacrifice so this was my only path forward. I had to keep her safe, even if it made her hate me later.

I looked into her eyes. “Mon ange, I love you,” I murmured.

“I…I know. I’m sorry I don’t know how I feel for you. I’m so confused right now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I told her gently. “All that matters is that you know I care for you too much to trap you and tie you to me against your will.”

I told the lie with all the sincerity that I could muster though it tasted like ashes in my mouth. I did care for her—that was true. I loved her as much as my dark, demon’s heart would let me love. But I would tie her to me if I could—it was the only way to save her.

The only way to keep her safe.

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

I wished I could tell Laish that I loved him too but I just didn’t know how to feel. After watching him kill Ray with the silver athame as calmly as if he was snuffing out a candle flame, I felt all twisted into knots inside.

He’s a demon, I told myself. I’m sure this isn’t the first time he’s killed—hell, it’s probably not even the hundredth or the thousandth.

Somehow, the thought failed to comfort me. All I could think was that Laish had killed Ray for me—that even though I hadn’t wielded the knife, I was still somehow to blame. The realization gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

My inner turmoil was made worse by the fact that I was fiercely glad that the evil bastard was dead. Free—Keisha’s finally free! I couldn’t help thinking. That son of a bitch, Ray got what was coming to him.

Yes, he had—but at what cost?

The strange stew of emotions and the aftershock of the killing made me dizzy. I put a hand to my head, feeling like the world was spinning around me.

“Gwendolyn, are you all right?” Laish put an arm around me, supporting me as he looked at me anxiously.

“Fine, just…I think I need to sit down a minute.” I started to sit down on the sandy ground but he stopped me.

“We can do better than that.” With a wave of his hand, a small but lovely pavilion-type tent appeared. It was made of some kind of yellow silky fabric with a round top and was lit from within by a golden light.

“Whoa—what’s that?” I eyed it uncertainly.

“A place to rest.” Laish supported me as he led me into the tent. Inside it had a broad, comfortable looking bed heaped with plush pillows and spread with linens the same pale yellow as the tent itself. There was an old fashioned oil lamp glowing softly on the bedside table. Laish even showed me a flap on one wall that led to a small shower area stocked with my favorite body wash and fluffy towels.

“This is gorgeous,” I said, looking around the small but luxurious tent. “But I thought you were trying to conserve your power.”

“That was before,” he said. “I will shortly have enough power to deal with any number of problems.”

Slowly, the meaning behind his words sank in.

“Oh, you mean after we…” I cleared my throat—it was still hard to say the words out loud but somehow I made myself. “You mean after we make love,” I made myself say.

He nodded gravely. “Yes, that’s right.”

“So you’ll get a power surge out of it—out of taking my, uh, innocence?” I tried not to sound bitter but it was difficult—especially since my own power was soon to be cut in half.

Laish sighed. “Yes, but I cannot help that, mon ange. I can no more help getting power from lust than you can help getting energy from the food you eat or oxygen from the air you breathe.”

“All right,” I said grudgingly. “I get the point. It’s not your fault you’re going to get a charge out of it when you take my virginity.”

“I am hoping that I will not have to,” he said quietly.

“What? What do you mean?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager and hopeful. “You think there’s a chance we won’t have to have sex?”

Laish frowned. “A very slim chance—probably no chance at all. Still, I think it is worth taking our time and trying things slowly. Though it is my guess that only taking the act to completion will pay the tax and break the barrier, it is always possible that something less might work.”

“Something less? Like what?”

“Like simply rubbing against one another with nothing between us,” Laish suggested. “Or perhaps simply the act of penetration will bring the barrier down.”

I frowned. “That’s no good. Penetration equals sex which equals loss of virginity.”

“Not by the rules of the Infernal Realm,” Laish countered. “We believe that virginity is not lost until after penetration and insemination.”

“Seriously?” I could hardly believe it. “So you think you can put your, uh, yourself inside me and as long as you don’t…don’t come in me…” I could feel my cheeks getting hotter and hotter as I spoke but I pressed on. “As long as you don’t do that, I’m still technically a virgin?”

“Until you’ve had my cock to the root inside you and been thoroughly fucked…” Laish murmured, his eyes half-lidded. “Until that moment when you have my cum dripping out of your pussy, you are still considered a virgin—at least by Hell’s standards which are the only ones that count here.”

My breath was already coming short and my pulse was racing but I tried to keep my voice calm.

“But that’s not what I believe at all.”

“It doesn’t matter what you believe, mon ange,” he said. “You are in Hell—you must abide by the Infernal rules.”

His words gave me a tiny sliver of hope. “I don’t know what to think about that—it’s just weird. But if it’s really true, then we might be able to pay the tax without me losing half my power.”

“It’s a possibility—but a very slim one,” Laish acknowledged. “But before we put it to the test, would you like to refresh yourself a little? Perhaps with a hot shower?”

“That would be nice, yes,” I said gratefully. “But I thought you told me the hot shower I had back at the Citadel of Knowledge would be my last one down here.”

He shrugged. “That was before, when I thought you would take the other option I offered. If you had, the barrier would be lowered by now and there would be no time for bathing.”

“I’m sorry,” I said awkwardly. “I just couldn’t…couldn’t go there no matter how much he deserved it.”

“Never apologize for being merciful, mon ange.” He cupped my cheek and stroked his thumb gently over my cheekbone. “It is one of the things I value about you—your compassion.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say.

Laish smiled. “You’re very welcome. Now go refresh yourself. I will meet you here when you return.” He nodded at the bed and I knew what he meant. We were meeting in bed for one reason and one alone—to commit a sexual sin great enough to pay the Sin Tax and bring the barrier crashing down.

I just wondered if we would be able to do that without Laish taking my virginity completely.

Chapter Thirty

Gwendolyn

We’d been riding all day and the steaming water spraying down from the little silver shower nozzle felt wonderful. Laish had thoughtfully provided a big puffy scrubbie along with my favorite vanilla jasmine body wash, so I was able to have a wonderful time lathering up and rinsing, taking my time and letting the hot water soothe my tired muscles.

But after a while I knew I was as clean and relaxed and soothed as I was going to get. The only reason I was still in the shower at that point was because I was stalling. Not wanting to get out and take the next step.

The minute I realized what I was doing, I made myself stop. After all, as Grams always says, “Soonest started, soonest finished.” In other words, just get on with it already. Although I doubted she’d approve of me applying her metaphor to losing my virginity to a demon, the principle still applied.

I dried myself with a big, fluffy towel and applied a little scented oil I found on the tiny shelf to make my skin feel nice and soft. The long white dress with red flowers which I’d taken off had disappeared but I didn’t panic. Knowing Laish as I did, I was certain he would have left something in its place for me to wear. And sure enough, I found it—a pile of deep green silky fabric folded neatly beside the stack of towels.

I expected it to be a slinky lingerie set like the white lace babydoll he’d conjured me to wear the night before. But to my surprise, it was just a simple green silk robe that fell to mid thigh. There were no buttons to close it—only a simple sash and I couldn’t help noticing there were no panties to go with it either. Clearly Laish wanted me completely bare beneath the silky fabric.

I put the robe on, feeling self-conscious about the way it clung to my curves and outlined the sharp points of my nipples. But I had an idea I wouldn’t be keeping it on for long so I’d better try to get over my shyness now.

Lifting my chin, I stepped back into the main part of the tent and saw Laish waiting for me. He was lying on his side on the bed, still wearing his suit. Well—the trousers and shirt, anyway. He had taken off the jacket and the red tie that went with it. The crisp, white shirt was unbuttoned, showing his muscular chest. Somehow seeing him still clothed while I wore almost nothing made me feel even more naked beneath the robe.

“Mon ange,” he murmured, sitting up on the side of the bed and motioning to me to come stand by him. “You look positively radiant.”

“Thanks.” The word came out as a nervous croak and I had to try again. “Um, thank you, I mean,” I said and came to stand between his spread thighs. He put his hands on my hips.

“So lovely,” he murmured. “I knew that color would suit you. It makes your eyes look like the purest jade.”

I could feel my cheeks getting hot with his compliments and the way he was looking at me. Oh Goddess, was I really going to do this? Was I finally going to give it up? How many years had I waited for the right man?

“I am here, now,” Laish murmured, clearly answering my thought.

I gave a broken little laugh.

“I wish that was true. But I’m afraid I meant a man with a soul. If you had one, we could form a soul bond.”

“Would you want to form a bond with me? Do you feel that strongly for me, mon ange?” He looked at me intently.

“I…don’t know. I’m sorry, Laish.” I found I couldn’t meet his eyes and had to look away.

“Never apologize for your true feelings,” he said gently. “It is I who am sorry. If we could bond, your power would be doubled or even trebled instead of being halved.”

I sighed. “Yes, but unfortunately…”

“I have no soul. Which puts a crimp in our relationship right from the start.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment. “What if I could acquire a soul somehow? Or even a piece of one?”

“Are you thinking of stealing one from some hapless, unsuspecting person?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I wouldn’t want that, Laish—it wouldn’t be right.”

“Yes, well…it was just a thought.” He shook his head. “Forget I said it.”

“Look, can we just get on with this?” I asked, shifting from foot to foot. “I mean, before I lose my nerve?”

“Not very romantic of you but completely understandable.” He pulled me down to sit beside him on the bed. Yes, we can ‘get on with it,’ as you so poetically put it, mon ange.”

“I’m just a little nervous is all,” I admitted in a low voice. “I’d sort of given up on the idea of ever doing this. Of ever…”

“Giving yourself sexually?” His eyes were suddenly half-lidded again, glowing like hot coals.

“Well…yes.” I looked down at my fingers, twisting in my lap. “I guess so.”

“Gwendolyn…” He raised my chin with one hand, making me meet his eyes. I saw lust burning in those ruby red depths but also tenderness and caring. “I swear, my darling,” he murmured, “That I will be gentle with you. I want your first experience to be completely pleasurable with no fear to mar it.”

“Thank you. I know you do. I…I trust you.” It occurred to me that even a few days ago I never would have said those words to him, let alone meant them. But they came naturally to me now and they were the absolute truth. I knew Laish well enough at this point to know that he wanted my pleasure more than his own and that he would always put my comfort first.

“Always, mon ange,” he murmured, stroking my cheek. “So let us begin.”

“All right.” Taking a deep breath, I stood up again and untied the sash of the robe. Then I let it fall to the ground, baring my body for him completely. If we were going to do this, then I was going for it. No half measures.

Laish sucked in a breath.

“So beautiful… You take my breath away, Gwendolyn,” he said in a low voice. “Truly you do.”

“Thank you,” I said. I could feel my cheeks getting hot but I lifted my chin. “Now you—it’s not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

“True.” He chuckled softly.

“What’s so funny?” I demanded as he stood and began stripping off his clothes.

“It occurs to me that not so long ago you insisted that one of us must always be at least partially clothed. You said that both of us being naked at the same time was ‘dangerous.’”

“Well, that was before,” I pointed out. “When we were trying not to…to do what we’re about to do. Now we’re going for it no matter what, so all the rules are out the window.”

“Maybe not,” he said. “Let us take things slowly and see where the situation leads us.”

“How do you want to start?” I asked. The old fashioned oil lamp was turned low and the soft golden light it shed gave the little tent bedroom a magical glow.

“Like this.” Laish pulled me down to sit on the edge of the bed and kissed me. The kiss started off soft but then it grew in intensity and hunger until I found I was carried away with it and kissing him back eagerly. His mouth tasted like cinnamon and some rich spice I’d never had before and the warm, masculine scent of his skin seemed to envelope me completely.

At last he drew back, breaking the kiss and leaving me breathless. He seemed so big sitting beside me on the bed—so strong and imposing yet I knew his strength would only be used to protect me, never to threaten me. I felt safe with him, safe enough to bare my neck for him when he nuzzled me there with his mouth…safe enough to moan for more when he kissed and licked the sensitive column of my throat.

“I’ll give you more, mon ange,” he promised. “But slowly…we must not rush. I want you to enjoy your first time—and I wish to enjoy it with you.”

I wasn’t about to protest, especially when he kissed his way down my neck and chest and started licking my sensitive nipples.

“Laish…” I moaned softly as he sucked one into his mouth and nipped the tight peak gently, sending a tingle of pleasure/pain straight to my pussy. “Oh, Goddess…”

“The Goddess is not here,” he murmured, releasing me and looking up. “Neither are the Creator or the Destroyer. There is only you and me, mon ange, and tonight I intend to worship your body with my own…to treat our union as a holy sacrament.” He kissed my breast reverently

“Laish…” I whispered again. “That’s…beautiful.”

“You are beautiful, mon ange. And you deserve to be treated with love and respect—to feel completely at ease during your first time.”

“You’re doing a pretty good job of putting me at ease so far,” I admitted breathlessly, pressing my other breast towards him.

“I am glad. Mmm…” He cupped both breasts in his big, warm hands. “I love how dark your nipples are—like ripe berries. I can’t get enough of them.” He sucked my other nipple, lashing it with his tongue, then taking it as deeply into his mouth as he could.

The hot, wet pull against my sensitive peak made my pussy throb. I gasped and threaded my fingers through his hair as I shifted on the bed, unable to sit still during his sweet torture.

He seemed to like that because he moved to my right nipple again while twisting the left gently between his thumb and finger. I moaned appreciatively, thrusting my breasts out shamelessly to offer him greater access. I knew I shouldn’t act like this but I couldn’t help how good his hands and mouth felt on my body. And I wanted to enjoy myself—to enjoy this pleasure which was going to cost me so dearly in such a short time.

Laish seemed to spend forever on my breasts and nipples and I could feel my pussy getting wetter and wetter the whole time as I shifted and squirmed all over the bed, wondering when he would go further. Wondering when we would get around to the main event.

When at last he looked up from my breasts, I fully expected him to say it was time. I certainly felt like it was—I was wet and hot and ready to do what I’d been dreaming about for years.

But instead of getting on top of me or getting me onto my hands and knees like the vision I’d seen in the mirror, he slid off the bed and started to part my thighs.

“Wait a minute.” I tensed my legs, keeping them closed. “What are you doing? We already did this last night—there’s no way we can break the barrier by committing the same sin twice, is there?”

“This is not just about breaking the barrier to the last circle,” Laish murmured, looking up. “It’s about preparing you…and about tasting your luscious pussy one last time.” He licked his lips and kissed the top of my thigh, letting me feel the wet heat of his mouth. “Also, I need to make sure you’re wet enough to take me. What better way to to encourage your honey to flow and your pussy to open for me than by tasting your sweet cunt?”

As always, his dirty words turned me on more than I wanted to admit. Although I still felt a little self conscious about letting him do this, his clear enjoyment of it helped me relax and allow it.

“Well…” I let my thighs drift apart slowly. “I guess if you really want to…”

“More than anything.” Laish insinuated himself between my legs at once, his broad shoulders splitting me wide. “Gods, you’re already so wet, mon ange.”

Looking down, I saw that it was true. Last night, at least, I’d had the little white panties to help contain my moisture. Tonight I was bare and my pussy was swollen with need and shiny with my juices. So were my inner thighs—proving exactly how much I wanted him.

“Goddess…” Feeling incredibly self conscious about my body’s obvious reaction to Laish’s touch, I made a halfhearted attempt to close my legs.

He put his hands on my knees and held them open gently but firmly.

“Don’t be ashamed of your needs, Gwendolyn,” he murmured. “Your lust is beautiful to me. I love how wet you get.”

“It’s embarrassing,” I mumbled, feeling like my cheeks were burning.

“It’s beautiful,” he countered. “Not to mention incredibly hot. Now spread wide for me, my little witch, and let me lick you clean.”

Feeling like my heart was pounding in every part of my body at once, I did as he said. I still felt a little embarrassed but what else could I do? I had made a conscious decision to trust Laish and I wasn’t going to change it now.

Still, I couldn’t help writhing when I felt his hot, wet tongue dragging over the tender flesh of my inner thighs. Laish seemed to enjoy my reaction because he did it again and again, lapping my sensitive skin and sending shivers through my entire body. He really was licking me clean, just as he’d said he would—getting every drop of my honey off my thighs before turning his attention to my pussy.

The night before when he’d been tasting me, he’d been very slow and careful, simply pressing the flat of his tongue against me and barely moving for most of the time. Tonight, it seemed he’d decided to take a more direct approach.

He licked me, long and slow and hard, starting at the bottom of my slit and dragging his tongue up to the very top of my cleft, making me jump and moan with each long, deliberate lick.

I hadn’t thought I could stand direct contact to my throbbing clit but Laish proved me wrong with each stroke of his tongue. Maybe it was because his tongue was so much softer than any hand or fingers could be or maybe it was just because I was so incredibly aroused from the way he’d kissed me and sucked my nipples for so long. For whatever reason when I felt his hot, wet tongue dragging over my swollen folds and sensitive nub, I didn’t jerk away or feel like it was too much. To the contrary, it felt just right—so right I would have come right away if Laish hadn’t pulled back.

“What…what are you doing?” I gasped, looking down at him. “I was getting close…really close.”

“I know you were, mon ange, but if we are to break the barrier, we must save your orgasm for last,” he murmured.

I saw the truth of what he said but I couldn’t help being disappointed. My whole body was attuned to his touch—aching to find the sweet release I craved. But I couldn’t have that—not yet.

“All right,” I said, taking a few deep breaths to try and regain control. “Now what?”

His eyes were half-lidded. “It occurs to me that while I have tasted the outer part of your pussy, I have never penetrated you with my tongue. Perhaps we should see if that has any effect on the barrier.”

“We…we should?” I bit my lip, feeling nervous all over again.

“I think so. Why, does the idea of my tongue buried in your sweet little cunt make you uneasy, mon ange? Do you fear to open yourself and let me tonguefuck you?”

I caught my breath at his dirty words. Goddess, I loved when he talked like that—especially when he looked at me with those hot, half-lidded eyes burning with lust at the same time.

“No,” I said, taking him up on his challenge. “No, I…I’m not afraid.”

“Good. Then you won’t mind if I do this.” He rose for a moment and grabbed one of the pillows beside me on the bed. Then he fitted it under my bottom, elevating me, making me even more open for him.

“Laish…” I protested halfheartedly.

“What?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “I thought you were not afraid.”

“I’m not,” I said, my voice shaking only a little. After all, he’d had his fingers inside me and he was shortly going to have his shaft inside me too, if this didn’t pay the debt. It was just that this act felt so personal…the idea of his tongue sliding into my pussy was so intimate.

“It is intimate, mon ange,” he murmured, placing a soft kiss on my inner thigh. “That is what makes it so pleasurable. Knowing that you trust me enough to open yourself completely—to let me taste you to your very core. Gods, it makes my shaft hard just to think of it!”

Knowing that this turned him on so much made it easier for me to relax. I loved how into tasting me he was—how much it seemed to arouse him.

“Of course it arouses me,” Laish growled softly, clearly catching my thought. “The idea of pressing my mouth to your sweet cunt…of giving you such a deep and intimate kiss…of bringing you pleasure and lapping away your sweet honey as it flows over my tongue as you moan and buck against me—nothing could be more arousing.”

“Do it then,” I whispered, spreading my thighs a little wider. “Do it to me, Laish. I…I want you to.”

I didn’t need to ask him twice. With a low growl of desire, he pressed his hot mouth to my open pussy and I felt the tip of his tongue probing gently around my entrance. He found it but took another moment to lap my throbbing clit before moving back down to slide into my channel.

I gasped when I felt his wet heat enter me. He seemed so hot—almost as if he would burn me but in a good way, if that makes any sense. I could feel him filling me, tasting me as deeply as he could and thrusting in and out, showing me exactly how he was going to fuck me when the time came.

Because it was coming and I knew it. Though the feeling of his tongue inside me was incredibly arousing, I didn’t feel the familiar shimmer in the air and the barrier didn’t give way.

I did feel myself starting to get closer to the edge, though. Especially when Laish reached up to cup my breast and began tugging gently at my sensitive nipple.

“Oh…oh!” I gasped, arching my back. I was getting close again…so close… But before I knew it, Laish was drawing back, his mouth shiny and wet from my juices.

“Forgive me, Gwendolyn, but you know we cannot let you come yet.”

“I know,” I moaned, shifting on the bed. “But Goddess, Laish, I was so close.”

“You’re going to have to be close for a long time before you can let go, mon ange,” he murmured, kissing my throbbing pussy tenderly. “The more sexual energy you release, the greater the chance of breaking the barrier without me coming inside you.”

“All right,” I whispered breathlessly. “I know. So…now what do we do?”

“Though I would love to continue tasting you all night, we must try something else. We will take things slowly and see if we can break the barrier without taking your virginity completely.” He climbed back on the bed and went to sit against the headboard with some pillows propped behind his back. Then he beckoned me over to him. “Come, Gwendolyn, let us see what we can do.”

I came to him willingly enough, feeling only a little trepidation when he positioned me in his lap, straddling his lean hips. When I looked down, however, I couldn’t help biting my lip. His shaft was long and hard and thick and there was already a bead of precum shining on the broad, plum shaped head of his cock. He looked so huge, pointed up at me like that—poised to enter me at any moment—to fill my virgin pussy with his thickness.

“I will not be entering you yet, mon ange,” Laish said, stroking my cheek. “I told you, we will take things slowly. To start with, why do you not rub yourself against me? Perhaps your naked pussy rubbing so intimately against my exposed shaft may satisfy the Sin Tax.”

I doubted it but it was certainly worth a try.

Biting my lip, I did as he asked. Lowering myself a little, I took his thick, hot shaft in one hand and pressed it to the front of my pussy.

I had only meant to rub him against the outside of my sex but I was so wet he slipped deep into my folds. The sudden contact made me gasp and Laish let out a low groan. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight of him pressing against me—into me—with only the broad head of his cock sticking out.

“Gods, you’re so slippery and hot,” Laish rasped, pressing carefully against me. “Look at the way you’re coating my shaft with your sweet juices. You are incredibly arousing, my darling.”

I gave a shaky laugh. “You’re not so bad yourself. But now what? I didn’t feel the barrier break.”

“Rub yourself against me,” he ordered in a deep, intense voice. “Slide your hot little cunt up and down the length of my shaft”

“Goddess, Laish…” I cleared my throat, barely able to go on. “Can’t…can’t you do it? Can’t you rub against me?”

He shook his head. “I’d like nothing better but it is your sin, Gwendolyn— you must be the one moving. So work yourself against me, my little witch—ride me.”

My mouth went suddenly dry with lust and at the same time, my pussy throbbed with his words. Goddess, I couldn’t believe I was doing this—couldn’t believe I was spread out naked on his lap with his thick shaft pressed deep between my open pussy lips. Couldn’t believe I was going to work myself against him, trying to come.

And yet there was no other way. Blushing with embarrassment but fueled by lust, I put my hands on his broad shoulder for balance and began working my hips. I was sliding up and down the length of his thick cock, feeling his silky, hot shaft rubbing against my open folds and loving every second of it.

I moaned as his thickness slid over my aching clit. I don’t know if his tongue had desensitized me a little earlier or if my body was simply going into overdrive but this direct touch didn’t bother me either. It only made me want more—more of the addictive pleasure of Laish’s big, hard body against my own. More of the intimate pleasure of feeling him rub against me. Or rather—the feeling of me rubbing against him, I reminded myself, for he was holding still, his eyes filled with desire as he watched my face while I worked myself against him.

At last, I stopped, panting a little. I knew if I went on I was surely going to come and that wasn’t what needed to happen—not yet.

“This feels amazing but it isn’t working,” I said, trying to control the frustration in my voice and not quite succeeding.

“I feared it would not but it was worth a try,” Laish said. “My little witch, I am very much afraid we must take stronger measures—you need to put me inside you.”

“What?” I objected. “So I have to be the one to act again—because it’s my sin?”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Well, yes—but I also want you to be in charge of the penetration, mon ange. I would not wish you to hurt yourself by taking too much of me too quickly.”

“All right.” Feeling like my cheeks were so hot they might set my hair on fire, I reached between us and gripped him. He felt slippery and wet from sliding against my folds and for a moment I was concerned that he would slip in too easily and too far right away. But I didn’t have to worry. The broad, plum-shaped head lodged just inside my entrance, making me bite my lip as I felt it just barely enter me.

“Do you feel that, darling?” Laish murmured, looking me in the eyes. “That’s me about to enter you. Does it feel good? Do you want me inside you?”

“I know I shouldn’t,” I panted, still keeping a firm grip on his shaft down below. “But damn it, Laish—I can’t help it I want more.”

“And more you shall have—but slowly,” Laish cautioned. “Come, my eager little witch, slide more of my shaft into your tight, virgin cunt.”

Biting my lip, I did as he said. It wasn’t hard—I was poised above him so all I had to do was sink down in his lap. I gave a little moan as the wide head of his cock finally breached my entrance completely and entered my pussy. Goddess, I couldn’t believe I was doing this—couldn’t believe I was finally letting a man into my body.

Child, be careful…when you let him into your body, you also let him into your heart.

I pushed the thought away, knowing it was something that Grams would say. I wasn’t trying to form any kind of bond with Laish—I couldn’t even if I wanted to. We were just making love to pay the Sin Tax—weren’t we?

Well, for whatever reason we were doing it, I wanted more. I liked the feeling of him inside me—it made me feel hot and powerful somehow, maybe because I was the one in charge of the penetration. At any rate, I was no scared little virgin—I’d had years to imagine this moment and right now I just wanted it to never end.

I started to lower myself down some more but Laish caught me by the hips.

“Slowly, Gwendolyn,” he murmured. “Take it slowly, darling—an inch at a time.”

I didn’t want to go slow but I couldn’t deny the exquisitely erotic charge I got from feeling another thick inch of his shaft penetrate my overheated pussy. And then another and another. Laish paused often, possibly waiting to see if the barrier would break but maybe just to give me time to get used to his thickness inside me. I could feel him stretching my inner walls but in a good way—it hurt just a tiny bit but it also felt amazing, being opened by him.

In fact, I didn’t feel any real pain until the moment he finally bottomed out inside me with the broad head of his cock pressing against the end of my channel. The moment that happened, I felt a sharp little pain—almost a bite—if that makes any sense, deep inside me.

“Oh!” I gasped and jerked in his arms.

Laish looked at me with concern.

“What is it, mon ange? Are you having pain? Do you wish me to pull out?”

“No…no, it’s all right.” The sharp little pain had faded as quickly as it had come. It reminded me of the way girlfriends of mine had described their first time when a guy pierced their hymen. But owing to my childhood accident, I didn’t have that—so what was the pain about?

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Laish asked again. He was holding perfectly still, watching me closely. “I don’t want you to have any pain, mon ange. Please tell me if you are.”

“I did but it was only for a minute,” I said. “I don’t know what it was but it’s over now.”

“You’re certain?” He looked at me sternly. “Tell me honestly.”

“I am,” I promised. “It doesn’t hurt at all now. I just feel kind of really…full.” I had never had anything so large inside me before and it took a moment of adjustment to get used to. I could feel him stretching my inner walls without even moving—he was throbbing within me, his thickness opening me completely, owning me utterly in a way no man had ever done.

“Look down,” Laish murmured, nodding to the place where we were joined. “Look and see me filling you completely, Gwendolyn.”

I did as he said and bit back a little gasp at the erotic sight of his thick cock thrust to the root inside my pussy.

“Can you feel me inside you, mon ange?” Laish murmured, his eyes burning into mine. “Can you feel the head of my cock kissing the mouth of your womb?”

“Y-yes,” I whispered brokenly. “Goddess, it feels so good…so right.”

“It feels right to me too, my darling,” he said softly.

“But it’s still not enough to pay the Sin Tax and break the barrier,” I said.

He shook his head. “No, it seems we must go even further. You must fuck yourself on me, mon ange.”

“I…I…” I hardly knew what to say. Of course it was my sin so I had to be the one committing it but it seemed so lewd, somehow, to work myself on him like that, to pump up and down and press his thick cock in and out of my pussy so shamelessly.

“Do not worry, Gwendolyn,” he murmured. “I will help you soon but you must set the rhythm—you must start the act yourself.”

“All right.” Biting my lip in concentration, I gripped his broad shoulders hard and raised myself up a few inches. I could feel part of his thickness slipping out of me and then I came back down, feeling the wide head press hard against the end of my channel again. It felt even better than I had imagined so I did it again…and then again.

“Gods…” Laish groaned, his hands tightening on my hips. “Yes, that’s right, mon ange—ride me. Ride my cock with your sweet, hot cunt—fuck yourself on my shaft.”

His deliciously naughty words turned me on, making me want to do even more. But I couldn’t do it alone.

“Help me,” I told him, gripping his shoulders tighter. “Help me, Laish. Fuck me. Please, I…I want you to. I need you too.”

He seemed to like it when I talked dirty back to him. His eyes glowed like ruby coals and his grip on my hips tightened even more.

“As my lady wishes,” he growled and then he was thrusting up into me, meeting the rhythm I had set and adding his own to it. Then he pulled me close and sucked one of my sensitive peaks into his mouth, pressing hard and deep inside me as he suckled my nipple until I thought I would die or explode or both.

“Laish…Laish!” I moaned, burying my fingers in his hair and urging him on. “Please, yes…please, more.”

He released my nipple for a moment.

“I’ll give you more, mon ange. I’ll give you as much as you can handle…and beyond.” Then he sucked my other nipple into his mouth and began thrusting even more deeply into me, pounding hard as though he wanted to leave an imprint of himself—as though he wanted to own me completely and leave his mark on me to prove that ownership.

Fucking me—oh Goddess, he’s really fucking me now, I thought deliriously. But though I knew it was wrong, I no longer cared. I didn’t care about anything but the delicious sensation of having his thickness so deep and hard within me, of feeling this pleasure I had been denied for so many years at last.

And then Laish reached between us and began stroking the side of my swollen clit with his thumb, sliding over my wet, open folds as he thrust deep inside me and sucked my tender nipple deep into his mouth.

The triple sensation was just too much. I felt the pleasure that had been building and building inside me beginning to come to a peak. But at the same time, something else was happening inside me.

I had a sudden vision of a golden cord, a rope that was wrapped around my heart, tugging and tightening with each deep thrust of Laish’s shaft inside me. And the other end of the cord went directly to him. It seemed to be trying to connect to him. But why? And how?

Just then two things happened at once that drove the strange vision out of my mind. I felt the tension inside me break and my orgasm began washing over me like a warm tide, pleasure tingling through every nerve in my body like electricity.

At the same time, I felt that familiar quivering in the air all around us. The barrier was breaking! We had done it!

“Laish,” I gasped, looking at him. “Did you feel it? Did you feel it break? We paid the tax!”

“Not quite,” he growled.

“Yes, we did!” I insisted breathlessly. “Quick, pull out of me! Pull out before you come!”

“No.” To my surprise, he gripped my hips even harder and thrust deep inside me, pressing the head of his cock hard to the end of my channel.

“Laish,” I begged, unable to understand why he was doing this. “Laish, please—you said—”

“I said I would keep you safe, whatever the price.” His eyes burned into mine. “Well this is the price, Gwendolyn and now you must pay it.”

And then I felt him coming inside me—long, hard spurts that filled my pussy with his seed and ended my virginity forever, even by the standards of Hell.

“Laish, no!” I gasped as I felt the hot cum bathing the mouth of my womb and overflowing to leak out of me. But it didn’t matter how much leaked out—he kept filling me, over and over, spurting deep inside me as though he was determined to claim me completely, as though he would never let me go.

His cum inside me seemed to have a strange effect on me. Despite my insistence that he pull out and my worry over what was happening, I felt another orgasm building inside me, this one even deeper than before.

I didn’t want to come again—what I wanted was to get him out of me. But I couldn’t help it—I felt my inner walls spasming around his thick shaft, milking him for the seed he continued to pump into my open, helpless pussy. It was almost as if my own body was betraying me—trying to get as much of his hot cum inside me as it could when I knew it was the exact opposite of what I should be doing.

“Laish,” I moaned. “Laish, please!” But I couldn’t stop coming and neither, it seemed, could he.

At that moment I had another quick flash of vision—the golden cord that connected us was now tied around his heart as well. I could see it so well I could almost count every fiber of its twisted golden strands.

Then the flash of vision was gone and the moment was over. It was so brief I wondered if it wasn’t some kind of a waking dream—a wish my heart had made that could never come true. As it ended, I came back to myself and realized that it was finally over.

Laish had finished and was pulling out of me, leaving me feeling empty and used and alone.

Chapter Thirty-one

Laish

“Why?” she asked me as I pushed her gently off my lap and laid her on the bed. “Why didn’t you stop?” Tears of hurt and rage were standing in her lovely green eyes, making my heart ache. “Why didn’t you stop when I asked you to? The barrier was broken. If you would have just pulled out—”

“Forgive me,” I said roughly, covering her with the pale yellow bedspread. “But I am, after all, a demon. Did you really think I could deny my nature to despoil indefinitely?”

I wanted desperately to explain my actions to her—to let her know the real reason behind my betrayal. But I knew my true motivations wouldn’t make her feel any better—if anything they would make her feel worse. Better to let her think that I didn’t care and had been acting as any demon would be expected to act.

Better to let her learn to hate me now.

“But…you said you cared about me. You said you loved me.” Her voice broke on that last words, making me feel as though my own blackened heart was breaking as well.

“I said many things. Some of them I even meant.” I could bear no more of this. I stood abruptly and started dressing. “Rest now, Gwendolyn. I have something to attend to,” I told her.

“So that’s it? You took my virginity and now you’re leaving me?”

“Only for a little while.” I kept my face set—calm and impassive. I had no intention of showing her my true feelings lest she suspect what I was going to do.

“But the barrier…the Abyss…I have to close the door…”

“You can worry about that later. For now, rest,” I told her.

“As if I could after what you did to me.” Her voice was filled with bitterness that pierced me like a sword. “I thought you cared about me,” she whispered. “And you made me care about you.”

“A lesson, perhaps, for the future.” I pulled on my jacket, forcing myself to continue dressing though I wanted nothing more than to take her in my arms and beg her forgiveness. “I’m going,” I said. “You need have no fear as long as you stay inside the tent—it is spelled for your safety. I will leave the thrak with you as well for protection.” I pulled the evil-looking, black-bladed knife from under the bed where I had stored it and placed it by her feet.

“But Laish—” Her face said she couldn’t believe it was over just like that and I was going…leaving her alone.

“I will return,” I said and hoped that it was true. Then, though it tore out my heart to do so, I turned my back on her. Trying to banish the picture of her pleading green eyes filled with tears, I left the tent.

Kurex whinnied softly when he saw me and I took a moment to lead him closer to the tent and tether him there. I pressed my face to his neck, drawing comfort from his heat and vitality.

“Watch over her while I am gone,” I told him, my voice sounding rough and strange in my own ears. “Gwendolyn is your mistress now. Keep her safe, Kurex.”

He nickered and I knew he would do as I asked. Gwendolyn had won his heart from the moment he saw her—just as she had won mine. I wondered again about the strange affinity the creatures of the Underworld had for my little witch but I had no time to solve the mystery now. There were steps that must be taken before it was too late.

I walked through the spot where the barrier had once stood and entered the region of the Abyss. Ahead of me I could see the bottomless pit filled with nightmare creatures so ancient they made even me seem young. It was quiet, for now at least. Good—if I could accomplish my task without waking the slumbering beasts, so much the better.

I started up the steep slope that led to the far edge of the vast trench. It was a narrow, rocky road enchanted to allow only one to climb it at a time. I had never intended to let that one be Gwendolyn. It was too easy to imagine her foot slipping on one of the loose rocks, the sound of her scream as she slid into the black pit. Or one of the tentacles of the Ancient Ones that lived below could easily reach up and grab her, dragging her down before I could do a thing to stop it. No, I could not let her take this journey, even though it was why she had come in the first place.

Ahead of me, at the top of the ridge, I could see the shining sliver of light that represented the slightly open door. I wondered once again where the HellSpawn was. Had it taken the bait I had put out for it when I sent the four lesser demons wearing Gwendolyn’s clothing, spreading her scent to four different corners of Hell? I hoped so but it seemed too easy. My instinct told me the creature was too smart to be delayed in that way for long. So where was it?

I cast a quick look back in the direction of the tent. The light had gone off inside but Kurex was silent—not agitated at all, which was a good sign. Maybe my little witch had gone to sleep as I had suggested. I certainly hoped she was asleep, anyway—I couldn’t bear to think of her lying in the dark crying over my betrayal and hating me.

I promised myself that as soon as I finished this task I would take her back to the Mortal Realm and give her the complete truth. She might hate me forever but at least she would have the option to be rid of me—an option I could not give her as long as the door into the Abyss remained open.

Speaking of the door, it was almost within my reach. I just hoped that the betrayal I had committed enabled me to close it. It was a great price to pay, having Gwendolyn hate me and believe that I did not care for her. But it would be worth it if my plan succeeded.

Reaching the door at last, I gripped it firmly by the cold metal knob and tried to push it closed. But it was stuck, somehow, wedged open by something I couldn’t see. I put my shoulder against it and pushed, using all the strength I could muster.

I knew, of course, that I could use my true form if necessary—I was much larger and stronger as my real self. But I didn’t like to change if I could help it. For one thing, the surge of power that came with such a transformation would almost certainly wake the sleeping beasts within the pit. And for another, once in my true form, it was incredibly difficult to transform back and take my human form again.

I didn’t want Gwendolyn to see me as I really was—didn’t want her to see my true form. I knew that she hated me—I could not blame her for that. But I didn’t want her to fear me as well. That was more than I could bear.

So instead of transforming, I reached deep within me to the stolen piece of soul I had taken and tried again, pushing with all my might to close the door.

And then I saw it…an oily black tentacle leaking in through the cracked door. Suddenly I understood. The HellSpawn hadn’t been tracking us through Hell at all—it had been here, all along. Waiting patiently on the other side of the door—waiting to attack.

With a shout that drew an answering neigh from Kurex down below, I pressed my shoulder even harder to the door. I heaved with all my might but it was too late, the black bulk of the HellSpawn squeezed through and launched itself at my chest.

I struggled with it, its knife-like teeth snapping inches from my face. Had I been more prepared it would have been no problem for me but as it was, I was scrambling on the edge of the precipice, trying to hold the thing at arms length while it continued its mindless attack. I shouted a word of power but it had no effect on the creature—it was strong, much stronger than it had been the first time I had encountered it.

I wondered how it had gained so much strength lying in wait on the other side of the door, in the Mortal Realm. Then I remembered that the spot where Gwendolyn had first opened the door was a place of power—a hill where dark rites and rituals had been performed since time out of mind. In fact, it was to save her friend Taylor, in the middle of just such a ritual, that she opened the door in the first place. Doubtless the HellSpawn had been feeding on the excess power it found—power that had been accumulating for centuries—as it waited like a noiseless, patient spider for someone to come and try to close the door.

That someone it had been waiting for was Gwendolyn, since only a person with her soul signature could close the door that she had opened. But if it was alarmed to find me here in her stead, it didn’t show it. It snapped and clawed, relentlessly determined to reach me and latch onto my face. I knew it could sense the stolen piece of soul inside me and wanted to suck it out—but I could not allow that.

I heard Kurex neighing again from across the great divide. The sound momentarily distracted me. The HellSpawn surged forward in my arms and my feet slid against the rocky scree. Suddenly I felt myself slipping, falling into the yawning black pit of the Abyss—a place from which there is no escape.

The situation was desperate—without my true form I was doomed. I shouted a word of power that illuminated the entire vast cavern for a brief instant, like a flash of lightning. And then my suit ripped away, as did my human form. I felt myself growing and changing—becoming what I once was, what I was always meant to be.

My true form emerged at last.

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

I don’t know how long I lay there in the dark crying. I couldn’t understand what had happened—how things had gone bad so quickly.

I’ll tell you what happened, whispered a spiteful little voice in my head. You were stupid enough to trust a demon—to even let yourself care for one—and now you’re paying the price. You’ve lost your virginity and with it, half your power. Hope you enjoy the rest of your life as half a witch—half of what you could have been if you’d been a little smarter.

I tried to push the mean little voice to the back of my head. I could still feel Laish’s hot seed leaking out of me and I closed my thighs tightly, wanting to erase the feeling, to deny his betrayal.

Then a new thought occurred to me—what if Laish had left me for good? Would I be able to close the door I’d left open on the edge of the Abyss myself? And once I did, would I ever get out of Hell and back home? What if I was lost down here, wandering in the darkness forever? Or what if the HellSpawn—

Kurex’s distressed neighing pulled me out of my morbid thoughts. I sat bolt upright in bed. What was going on?

Pulling on the green silk robe, I belted it hurriedly around my waist and jumped out of bed. I was about to leave the tent when, as an afterthought, I grabbed the thrak. I didn’t like the feel of it in my hand—it almost seemed to be thrumming as though it sensed something outside the tent—something bad. But I felt better with some protection—even an evil-ass knife—than nothing at all.

Clutching the knife, I ran out of the tent. I saw that the road under the Sunless Sea—which had appeared to go on and on forever the last time I had looked at it—now ended abruptly. The underwater passageway had opened out into a vast cavern which housed the Abyss.

The last time I had seen that horrible, black, bottomless pit, it had been crawling with long, slimy dark tentacles. This time there was nothing coming out of it. But high up, on the far edge along a steep slope, I could see something happening. There was a scuffle going on beside long sliver of light. Clearly the light was coming from the door which I had left open—a door which only I could close, according to Laish.

Speaking of Laish, was that him, struggling with something on the edge of the Abyss? Yes, it was. And the something he was fighting had no head—only long, yellow teeth and a black, oozing body. It clawed at him relentlessly, trying to get a hold on him—trying to draw him into its deadly mouth. The struggle was hard to make out in the murky, diffused light coming from the Sunless Sea but my eyes were used to the darkness and I was sure of what I was seeing.

As I watched, my heart in my mouth, Laish’s foot slipped on the loose rocks and gravel. To my horror, he started to slide into the Abyss.

“No! Oh, no!” I gasped, running forward. I didn’t think what I could possibly do if I got to him—how could I hope to have any chance against the HellSpawn now that I had only half my strength and powers? But the thought didn’t occur to me—I only knew I couldn’t let him fall—couldn’t let him go. Not now…not yet.

But before I could get three steps, Laish shouted a word of power that echoed through the whole cavern. There was a brilliant flash of light and then he was gone—at least, the Laish I knew was gone.

In his place was a being that had to be ten or twelve feet tall. Or I thought he was—it was hard to tell because he was no longer standing on the ground. Vast, black feathered wings beat the air, causing a small hurricane around him. His skin was dark gray like marble and his eyes were flames—literally flames—in his face. In his hand was a fiery sword as long as I was tall and his hair was a wreath of fire—burning waves that moved and shifted around his face as he hovered in place.

With one slice of the fiery sword, the HellSpawn was cut into two writhing pieces. The being that Laish had become threw them down into the Abyss, still quivering and bleeding black, oily goo.

I think I may have gasped or cried out at that point—I don’t know. All I know is that something caused him to turn his attention to me. His face was beautiful and terrible—I felt like looking at it for too long might cause me to go blind and yet I couldn’t look away. I was caught—trapped in that impenetrable gaze.

For the first time I truly understood what Laish was—what I had allowed myself to care for. He wasn’t human, not in the least. But he wasn’t truly a demon either—or he hadn’t used to be.

He was a fallen angel.

Again I tried to look away and again I couldn’t. I had suspected something like this for a long time but to have it actually confirmed this way sent my mind reeling.

Holding my eyes with his flaming gaze, Laish reached over with one huge hand and casually pushed the door to the Abyss shut.

How? my mind gibbered. How did he do that? He said only someone with my soul signature could shut it. So how was he able? And what will he do now? Is he coming for me?

For the huge, black wings, as vast and broad as the wings on a commercial aircraft were beating slowly, stirring a hot wind from the pit that stank of sulfur and death. He was flying towards me.

“Laish?” I whispered, almost unable to get his name out. Was it really even his name? Was he called something else in this form—in his true form? Because this had to be his true form. Even in my dazed state, I could feel the realness coming from him—the authenticity.

This huge, flaming, beautiful, powerful, frightening being was the real Laish. The person I had let myself care for—the one I had given myself to—was just a shell—a façade he put on when it was convenient for him. This being who had been alive since the dawn of time—since the creation of the world—was the true form of what I had thought was the man I cared for.

“Laish?” I whispered again as he came towards me, flying over the vast, yawning gulf of the pit. I realized suddenly that I was standing on the very edge of the Abyss—somehow I had been drawn forward as I watched him and now my toes were almost at the lip of the dark hole. Sharp rocks cut into my bare feet but I barely felt them. I drew back quickly, getting a safe distance from the edge and noticed Kurex was beside me. The big horse was pawing the ground and snorting at the sight of Laish as he really was.

Had he seen this form in battle, as he had seen the dragon? As frightening as the dragon had been, this form was worse—a thousand times worse. The dragon was just huge and scaly and ugly and scary—this being was beautiful—beyond beautiful. Perfect and yet marred so deeply it made me ache to look at him. Suddenly I remembered Belial’s words—His true form is a perversion of what he once was. Was that why it was so hard to look at him like this and yet so impossible to look away?

He had been flying in perfect silence but now, for the first time, the being Laish had become spoke.

“Gwendolyn,” he said and his voice was like the pealing of a thousand dark bells. On his lips, my name sounded like a word of power—a word that could kill or destroy or maim anyone who heard it spoken aloud. It made me flinch back and clutch the silver handle of the thrak more tightly.

Laish had told me that black-bladed knife could kill any being in Hell. Did that include himself in this new, frightening form? If he came for me, could I use it to defend myself? Was he coming for me? How could I know the true intentions behind that beautiful, inscrutable face, those flaming eyes and vast, black wings? Plus, he was still holding the long, fiery sword in one huge fist. What did he intend to do with it? It had cut through the HellSpawn like a hot knife through butter—I couldn’t imagine it would encounter much more resistance if it was slicing into me.

“Gwendolyn,” he said again in that terrible, beautiful voice that made me feel like I was going crazy every time I heard it. “Please, don’t fear me.”

“Stay back.” I took a step away, holding up the thrak. “I don’t know you like this—I don’t know what you’re capable of and I don’t want to find out.”

“Surely you don’t think I would ever hurt you?”

“You already have,” I pointed out. “And that was when you looked like a regular person. I’m not likely to trust you more now that you’ve turned into this…this…whatever you are.”

The beautiful, terrible face looked sad.

“This is my true form—the one I feared to show you.”

“I can see why. The other form—the one I thought I knew—that isn’t you at all, is it? You were this all along—this…this being.”

“Gwendolyn,” he began but just then a huge, slimy black tentacle snaked up from the Abyss and wrapped itself tightly around my waist.

It came so quickly that I didn’t know what to think. One minute I was standing there talking to him, the next I was high in the air, waving over the bottomless void and screaming.

Laish swung into action at once. He gripped my waist, where the tentacle was wrapped around me, and cut it with one swift slice of his sword. Even with my robe and the writhing tentacle between his hand and my flesh, I could feel his heat radiating over me. His touch burned but not for long—he was already putting me back down on the ground and pushing me gently to safety.

But another tentacle came and then another and another—at least ten of them sliding out of the pit like blind snakes bent on one thing and one thing only—finding me.

Laish cursed and stepped between me and the searching tentacles. He hacked with long, controlled movements—severing many with his sword but he couldn’t get them all. The ones he missed found him instead of me, wrapping like whips around his legs and dragging him back to the Abyss.

“Oh my Goddess,” I whispered, feeling frozen in place. The end of the still-twitching tentacle was still wrapped around my waist, oozing black blood all over my green robe, but I couldn’t move—I could only watch.

Laish slashed more desperately at the writhing tentacles with his sword. Some fell away but then, the whole pit suddenly erupted—it seemed like a thousand—ten thousand tentacles were waving in the air, fastening themselves to Laish, wrapping around his arms and legs and waist and throat, dragging him down, dragging him into the Abyss.

“Laish,” I gasped, my paralysis breaking at last. Pushing the dead tentacle off my waist, I rushed forward. I might be angry with him and frightened of the person he had become but that didn’t mean I wanted to see him dragged into the bottomless pit that had no ending and no beginning to rot for eternity.

He was fighting hard, slashing in every direction with his flaming sword, his broad wings pumping the air desperately as he shouted words of power. But the words didn’t seem to have any effect on the ancient, evil creatures. Then one of the tentacles managed to wrap around the hilt of his sword and yank it out of his hand. I saw it fall, flaming into the pit until its light faded to nothing. And then Laish was clinging to the lip of the Abyss, his hands scrabbling desperately, trying to find something to hold on to, some way to keep from being dragged down forever.

“Laish!” I cried again. I grabbed for Kurex’s bridle and tried to hand it to him. “Here—let Kurex pull you out!”

“No,” He panted, refusing to take them. “You’ll need him and he is not…not strong enough to withstand the Ancient Ones.”

“Well we have to do something!” I was crying now though I didn’t know why.

“There is nothing to do.” His flaming eyes looked desperate but resigned. “Go back to Belial. He will help you get home.”

“No!” I insisted. “I’m not giving up!”

Suddenly I remembered the thrak in my hand. Raising it above my head, I started to bring it down hard on one of the slimy black tentacles pulling Laish down.

But somehow, despite the tentacle wrapped around his arm, he caught my wrist before I could strike a blow.

“No—you cannot spare any more of your soul.” He wrenched the black blade from my hand, leaving me with nothing.

“What are you talking about?” I demanded. “Let me stab that thing for you—you told me you can’t use the thrak yourself!”

“Gwendolyn, get back from the edge—it’s not safe!”

“No!” I shouted stubbornly, tears of frustration stinging my eyes. “No, I can’t just watch you get dragged down. Let me help you, Laish—tell me what to do!”

Clearly he saw how stubborn I was prepared to be because he turned his attention to the big horse neighing and pawing the ground beside me.

“Kurex,” he commanded. “Save your mistress! I charge you with her safety and her life.” Suddenly the tentacles writhing around him gave a tremendous jerk. He’d been head and shoulders above the lip of the pit, now he was yanked down until I could barely see his face.

“Laish!”

“Forgive me,” he said, meeting my eyes with his flaming ones. “What I told you was true—I love you, Gwendolyn. I will never stop lov—” And then the tentacles gave another awful yank and he was gone, sliding down into the Abyss. His burning eyes, filled with sorrow and pain, were the last thing I saw and then…nothing.

“Laish—no—Laish!” I tried to rush forward again but something was pulling at the back of my robe, dragging me backward. I didn’t understand what it was until I heard Kurex snorting behind me. The giant horse was pulling me away—pulling me out of danger just as he had when I’d been dragged into the Drowning Pool in Stygia. But this time I didn’t want to go.

“No, let me go! Let me go!” I cried, fighting to get back to the edge of the Abyss. I don’t know what I thought I would do if I got there—I had no weapons, no way to cast a spell, no defenses if the monsters of the Abyss decided they wanted me, too. I only knew I couldn’t just stand there and see Laish dragged down and away and know I would never see him again.

But my screams and protestations did no good. The big horse wouldn’t let go. He dragged me all the way back to the tent, away from the seeking tentacles, and somehow shoved me inside it, standing guard at the entrance and blocking my way every time I tried to get out.

At last I collapsed on the bed and cried. Laish was gone—really and truly gone this time. And he might have turned into a huge, beautiful, frightening being that looked completely alien but still, I didn’t want to see him go. Maybe in time I could have gotten used to that—as I had gotten used to his dragon. But now it was too late—now he was either dead or trapped forever in the Abyss.

I would never see him again.

Chapter Thirty-two

Gwendolyn

I don’t remember much about the trip back across the Sunless Sea. My mind was a blur of grief and images and most of all questions—none of them answerable. Why had Laish sacrificed himself for me? How had he been able to shut the door? Why had he refused the help I tried to offer? What was I going to do without him?

This last question brought tears to my eyes more than once. I’d been so angry with him for his betrayal but now that he was gone I had to admit how I felt. Even though I hated him for doing what he had done, I loved him too. I had given him my heart when I gave him my body—there was nothing I could do about that. And now that he was gone, it was too late to do anything else but mourn him.

I rode on Kurex’s back, plodding stolidly along, not sure of anything anymore. I was wearing the gray traveling cloak Laish had given me. Under it, I wore the pair of jeans and t-shirt I’d brought as a change from the Mortal Realm. These were the only clothes I had other than the white fur coat Laish had told me to keep. Still—they were all I really needed. I had no need to pretend I was Laish’s concubine or consort now—I was just plain Gwendolyn LaRoux, trying to get back home again.

At least I wouldn’t go hungry for some time, even if my journey took a while. While packing the saddle bags, I’d found one that was full of bread and cheese and nonperishable fruit with a note from Laish.

“This food is of my essence. You may eat of it without fear. ~L”

Just seeing the note had made me start crying again and I had packed the food away without tasting a bite. I wasn’t hungry—how could I be when I had just lost the man I loved? Even if he wasn’t really a man, I couldn’t help my feelings. Couldn’t help wishing to have him back again, even if he had betrayed me at the end.

Eryn was sitting on my shoulder, looking like a white snowflake on my gray cloak. I drew some comfort from her presence. No matter what else happened, at least my pet lily-moth was still with me. At least she still cared.

I took comfort from Kurex too. He nuzzled my hair and snorted gently when I put my arms around his neck and cried. He seemed to understand what was going on and sympathized with me.

The presence of the huge horse and the tiny moth made me feel less alone, less friendless in the vast, dangerous reaches of Hell. Still, we were a mournful little group when we finally passed the broken barrier between the Sunless Sea and the city of Dis. One moment we were walking under the endless blue-green ocean with the vast shadows of prehistoric sea monsters flitting by, and the next we were emerging into the daylight of Dis, right beside The Hoof.

“Oh!” I pulled Kurex to a stop beside the tavern. Though the day was gray and drizzly, it was still brighter than the long, endless cavern we’d been traveling for so many long miles. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

“I guess we made it,” I said to Kurex, who tossed his head and snorted agreement. “Now if only I can remember the way back to the Citadel of Knowledge…”

But just as I had decided which way to go and was tugging on Kurex’s reins, a huge demon with brick red skin and twisted black horns growing out of his forehead stepped out of the shadow of The Hoof and came to stand right in front of Kurex.

“Mistress Gwendolyn LaRoux?” he rumbled in a voice like someone gargling with gravel.

“Uh, yes? I guess…that’s me.” I wasn’t sure if I should admit it or not but I didn’t know what else to do. “What do you want?”

“To read you this summons.”

Briskly, the huge demon unrolled a large sheet of parchment and began reading from it in his deep, grating voice.

“Whereas the defendant, Mistress Gwendolyn LaRoux, the mortal, did knowingly and willingly enter the Infernal Realm and while she was there did stay at the Hotel Infernal, and furthermore did steal, pilfer, and purloin a treasure beyond price from the accuser, Master Druaga, Demon of the First Order of Lucifer and General Manager and Owner of said hotel, I hereby place you under arrest and order you to accompany me to a place where you will be tried and punished for your crimes.”

“What?” I stared at him in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me! I didn’t take anything from that bastard! Now leave me alone—let me go!”

“I am afraid not, Mistress.” The demon tried to take Kurex’s bridle but the big horse snapped at him and kicked out with one huge hoof.

The demon groaned and cursed as the hoof connected with his shin.

“None of that, now!” he growled, taking a hasty step back. “Master Yerx!”

A massive demon with dark maroon skin and twisted spiral horns growing from the sides of his head strode up, his hooves pounding on the cobblestone road. My heart sank as I recognized him—it was the demon we had borrowed Kurex from in the first place—the one who had caught us trying to sneak into Hell at the very beginning of our journey. But now Laish wasn’t with me to make him obey and something told me the huge demon wasn’t going to listen to a word I said in protest.

“Kurex!” He took the bridle at once and though the horse snorted and stamped, he didn’t try to kick or bite. Then he looked at me. “Mistress LaRoux—I see you are well. But where is Lord Laish?”

“He’s…not here,” I said. I didn’t want to admit that Laish was gone—not to anyone and especially not to a being that might harm me the minute he thought it was safe to do so. “He’ll be back soon,” I improvised.

“Mmm-hmm.” Yerx looked at me through narrowed yellow eyes. Then he inhaled, his nostrils flaring as he breathed us in. “I smell the stick of the Abyss on you, Mistress. Why is that and where is Lord Laish?”

“I told you—he’s coming.” I lifted my chin. “I have nothing else to say to you.”

“We’ll see about that.” He tugged on Kurex’s bridle. “Come, we’re taking the accused to be tried before the Council of Elder Demons.”

Kurex tossed his head and let out a ringing neigh. Then he tried to pull back from the demon’s grip.

“Here—what’s got into you?” Yerx sounded both perplexed and angry. “Come, you big brute or you’ll feel my lash against your worthless hide.”

“You don’t dare touch him!” I bent down and put my arms around the big horse’s neck protectively. “Lord Laish will have you thrown into the Lake of Fire if you so much as look at him wrong, you nasty-ass demon!” It was an empty threat but Yerx didn’t know that—and I prayed I’d be gone before he found out.

Yerx looked from me to Kurex, frowning, as though he was trying to figure out what was going on.

Kurex snorted softly and turned his vast head to nuzzle my hand. His demon master still had his bridle, but it was clear he had ears only for me and my orders. As far as he was concerned, Yerx was a distant memory.

“I see,” the demon said at last, roughly. “It seems you have bewitched my horse, Mistress, but you’ll not find me quite so easy to bespell. I have orders to take you to the Citadel of Knowledge and that is where you must go.”

“As a matter of fact, that’s exactly where I was headed,” I said, straightening up and looking down my nose at him. It wasn’t easy since he was twelve feet high but I tried. “I need to speak to Belial—Lord Laish gave me a message for him. I refuse to speak to anyone else until I deliver it.”

Yerx nodded. “Very well—let’s go then.” He tugged at Kurex’s bridle but the big horse refused to move.

“It’s all right, Kurex,” I said, patting his neck. “We’re going back to the Citadel of Knowledge. You can go now.”

At once, the big horse started moving. I saw the angry look on Yerx’s face and hoped it didn’t spell trouble for the big Demon-steed later. But for now, it was enough that Kurex was standing by me.

I just hoped Belial would as well.

~ ~ ~

“I am afraid you are in grave trouble—very grave trouble indeed.” The ancient, hunchbacked demon paced back and forth in the library between the couch and the fireplace. I was sitting on the red leather couch, trying not to remember the tender scene that had taken place right there between Laish and myself just a few nights before.

“But how?” I argued. “I haven’t done anything. Haven’t taken anything from Druaga. I don’t even know what he’s talking about!”

“He will reveal it during the hearing,” Belial said, frowning.

“There shouldn’t even be a hearing—this is ridiculous!” I protested. “If Laish was here—”

“But he’s not, is he?” Belial snapped. “And where exactly is he, young lady?”

“He…he’s…” I could feel the tears building inside me but I held them back grimly. “He’s not here.”

“He’s gone, isn’t he? Into the Abyss, never to return.”

I opened my mouth to reply but he rounded on me, pointing a crooked finger in my face.

“Don’t bother to dissemble—the Mirror of the Eye showed me everything. He is gone.”

“Yes.” There was no point in lying. I could feel the tears coming and this time I couldn’t stop them. “Yes, he’s gone,” I admitted brokenly. “I tried to save him but there was nothing I could do. They dragged him down—the tentacles—they wrapped around him and pulled him down into the pit. They—”

“Enough.” He held up one wrinkled hand to stop me. “You don’t have to explain—I saw it all. The slumber of the Ancient Ones was disturbed and they demanded a sacrifice. They wanted you but Lord Laish got in the way. He gave himself that you might live.”

“I know that,” I whispered, barely able to get the words out. “I don’t…don’t know why he did it.”

“Nor do I,” Belial said grimly. “Do you know what Lord Laish was? What he gave up to save you?”

“A fallen angel—he was a fallen angel, right?” I wiped at my wet eyes with the sleeve of my gray cloak.

“Not just any fallen angel. He was one of the Da`evas—the small group of Archangels that chose to go with Lucifer during the uprising in Heaven. In the ensuing battle, they were cast from Heaven down to Hell. Though some were destroyed in the fall, others gained even more power from being cast down. Laish, himself, fell into the Lake of Fire.” Belial glared at me. “Do you have any conception of what that means? The Lake of Fire is death, even to demons. It is the final place prepared by the Creator for those of us who oppose him.”

“I know that,” I whispered numbly. I remember what Laish had said about the Lake of Fire and shivered. So he had fallen into it when he was cast out of Heaven. And there he absorbed its energy and dark power, becoming what I had seen when he cast off his human form. A being who was burning from the inside out—burning but never consumed because he contained the power of the fire within himself.

“Baptism in the Lake of Fire would have killed a lesser being but not Lord Laish—he absorbed its energy and dark power to become one of the greatest of our kind,” Belial said heavily. “Truly, he was a Prince of Night and Shadows and he gave all that up—immortality, almost limitless power, wisdom beyond measure—for you, Gwendolyn. For an insignificant mortal.”

He spoke the word as if it was a curse, making me flinch.

“I’m sorry,” I said in a low voice. “As I said, I don’t know why he did it. If it makes you feel any better he took half my power with him when he went.” I still didn’t want to think of his betrayal—it seemed so strange that he would do something like that to me and then sacrifice himself to save me. Such a contradiction…

“A pity he didn’t take all of your power,” Belial said grimly. “Perhaps if he had, he might have broken the spell you had over him and saved himself instead of you.”

“I didn’t have him under any spell,” I snapped, goaded into feeling angry instead of sad for once. “He just showed up when I did a summoning and then he wouldn’t leave me alone. I never expected him to really care for me, any more than I expected to…to care for him.” The last word ended in a sob and I had to stop and clench my jaw tightly to keep from crying again.

“Of course you had him spelled—you have the scent of the Eternal Flame all around you,” Belial said, frowning. “At first I didn’t know what it was—it’s so subtle it’s easy to miss. But when I did a little research, all became clear.”

“The Eternal what?” I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”

“The Eternal Flame.” He made an impatient gesture. “Do not pretend you don’t know all about it.”

“But I don’t,” I protested. “What is the Eternal Flame? What does that even mean?”

“Very well, since you choose to play the innocent,” he growled. “The Eternal Flame is what happens when the flames of Hell consume the life of someone you love—someone who loves you more than anything—when you are nearby. It is the scent of sacrifice and love and death. The creatures of the Infernal Realm find it irresistible, as I’m sure you know.”

“No, I don’t…I don’t know anything about it.” I felt sick to my stomach. “But…my mother—she was killed by a fire demon she summoned when I was just a little girl. I…I saw the whole thing through a crack in the closet door.”

“That’s it, then.” Belial nodded, as though he’d been vindicated in some way. “I knew it had to be the Eternal Flame. When a mortal creature comes that close to death—especially death at the hands of one from the Infernal Realm—the scent lingers, like a subtle perfume. Sometimes so subtle that those affected don’t even know they are being drawn by it.”

I felt numb. “Laish did say he didn’t know why he…he cared for me.” He had said it right here in this room, as a matter of fact.

Belial sighed and rubbed a hand over his ancient, wrinkled face.

“I thought he knew of the Eternal Flame, but perhaps not.”

“He must have though,” I protested. “I told him about how my mother died.”

“That is assuming he knew about the lore behind the fragrance you are oh-so-subtly emitting my dear,” he snapped. “It is not common knowledge. I only found it by digging into the most ancient lore books after the two of you had left for the Sunless Sea.” He frowned at me. “I wondered how you, as a mere mortal, had come across it.”

“I didn’t,” I said wearily. “I didn’t have any idea that the way my mother died could have given me some kind of…of aroma.”

“It is more an aroma of the soul than one of the physical body,” Belial said. “But whether you knew of it or not, it seems my Lord Laish was unwittingly caught in your snare and sent to his doom by it.”

“Great,” I said dully. “So he never really cared for me at all. He just liked the way I smelled and it got him killed. Thanks, I feel so much better now.”

“Enough of your flippant comments,” Belial snapped. “Whether you did it on purpose or not, you have been responsible for ending the life of one of the greatest demons ever to roam the Infernal Realm.” He made a disgusted face. “It sickens me to even look at you.”

“Well you’re not going to be winning any beauty pageants either,” I shot back. “So why don’t you just let me go back home to the Mortal Realm and we can agree never to see each other again.”

“I don’t think so,” he snarled. “You’re to be held here for the hearing. After that, the Council of Elder Demons can decide what to do with you.”

“But you can’t do that to me,” I protested, feeling panic well up in my throat. “Laish specifically told me to come back to you so that you could send me home.”

“Lord Laish is not here anymore, thanks to you,” the old demon said stiffly. “For the sake of his memory, I will allow you to stay sequestered in his rooms here at the top of the Citadel until the hearing instead of locking you in the dungeon. But that is the last kindness you can expect to get from me or anyone by invoking his name.”

“But—” I began but he was already calling for some guards.

“Conduct Ms. LaRoux to Lord Laish’s private living quarters,” he instructed the burly demon who came at his summons. “And then stand guard at the top of the stairs and see that she does not leave.” He turned to me. “Your hearing will be held at first light tomorrow. I suggest you enjoy your comfortable quarters while you can. I very much doubt you can expect such living arrangements when the Council hands you over to Druaga.”

Before I could answer, he swept out of the library, leaving me alone with the burly demon guard and a very, very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

~ ~ ~

“My Lady Gwendolyn? My Lady Gwendolyn, are you there?”

The soft knocking at the door of Laish’s living area got my attention. Not that I was doing much more than staring at the pattern in the thick carpet and wondering how in the Hell—no pun intended—I was going to get out of here before the travesty of a trial began. If Druaga got his hairy hands on me…but no, I couldn’t think about that. I couldn’t.

“My Lady Gwendolyn?” came the squeaky little voice again.

Sighing, I got up and went to open the door. Standing there, bowing and nodding anxiously, was Bobbin, the little imp I’d befriended the last time Laish and I were here. Which seemed like an eternity ago now, even tho it had barely been two days.

“Yes, Bobbin, what do you want?” I asked.

“Oh, my Lady Gwendolyn, it’s not what I want but what do you want?” He searched my face as he tugged nervously at his sharp little horns. “Master Belial says you’re to have anything you want for dinner—anything at all. So what can I get for you from the kitchens?”

I frowned. Belial knew full well I couldn’t eat anything from the Infernal Realm—not without getting caught here indefinitely. Yet he had sent Bobbin to taunt me with the offer of food. He might as well have sent the little imp with a note telling me to give up—that I was going to be stuck here forever.

“Nothing—I don’t want anything from your kitchen here,” I snapped.

Bobbin’s little face fell. “All right, my Lady. Please forgive me for disturbing you.”

The dejected look on his little face was more than my conscious could take. Yes, I was being held prisoner in Hell and I had little chance of escape but it wasn’t right to take it out on someone who just wanted to help me.

“Wait, Bobbin, I’m sorry, it’s just that I can’t eat food from Hell.” Suddenly I had a thought. “You said I can have anything I want?”

“Anything! Anything at all.” Bobbin looked up at me, his eyes shining hopefully.

“Well, I don’t know if you can get to it but Laish left me a supply of the food I can eat,” I said. “They were in Kurex’s saddlebags—you know, the big horse we were riding?” Just thinking of the massive Demon-steed made my heart ache. Where was he now? I hoped resting quietly in the stables. I couldn’t bear to think of him being mistreated by his huge demon master.

Bobbin was already nodding his head eagerly.

“Yes, yes, the saddlebags! I know where they are—I can get them for you!”

“Well, as long as you won’t be putting yourself in any danger,” I said hesitantly. I could just see one of Kurex’s big feet coming down by accident and squashing the little imp.

“No problem, my Lady Gwendolyn—no problem at all!”

Eyes bright with excitement, he turned and scampered off, happy to be sent on a mission.

I barely had time to sit down and worry about him before Bobbin was back, lugging the heavy saddle bags behind him. I thanked him very much and gave him a kiss on the cheek which made him blush with pleasure. Then, as soon as he scampered off again I pulled the heavy bags to the couch in the living area and started digging for the food Laish had left me.

Luckily it looked like nothing in the bags had been disturbed. Even my battered plastic Zephyrhills bottle and the books Laish had let me pack were intact, as was the food.

I hadn’t meant for Bobbin to bring me everything but now I blessed his curly little head. At least I wouldn’t be thirsty or hungry and the books gave me a way to pass the time while I tried to think of a way out of here. I wished one of the spells might help me get out of my sticky predicament but since giving up my virginity without forming a soul bond had halved my powers, that was out of the question. Still, at least looking through the books was something to do besides brooding.

I leafed through the spell book I’d picked, looking at spells at random. There were the usual suspects—love spells, charms for good health and hexes for your enemies. Also an interesting spell for warding and protection of the innocent—that one must be to use on children to keep them safe. Then I came to one I’d been looking at before—a spoken spell to bring hidden things to light.

“Hmm,” I muttered to myself. Some of the words were written in curling, archaic handwriting that I would have had a hard time understanding if I hadn’t studied Grams’ grimoire so thoroughly. She had lots of old fashioned spells like this. Without even thinking about it, I whispered the words under my breath.

“As ye be lost, so be ye found.

As ye be hidden, so be made known.

As ye be cursed, so be set free.

By the power of the Goddess

By the rule of three

I invoke thee, I invoke thee, I invoke thee.”

As I finished speaking the words of the spell, a surge of power went through me, surprising me.

“Oh!” I gasped. But I didn’t have time to wonder at the electrical rush that still tingled in my fingertips. Something fluttering near the corner of my eye caught my attention. Eryn, my pet moth, had risen from my shoulder and was beating her wings wildly in agitation.

“Hey, little girl,” I said, worried about her. “Are you okay? You—”

But I never got to finish the sentence. For at that moment, Eryn landed on a spot on the floor right in front of my feet. Then she began to grow and change so rapidly that if I would have blinked, I would have missed it.

One minute there was a postage-stamp sized moth with tiny, feathery wings sitting by my feet. The next, a girl with long, pale blond hair and frightened purple eyes was staring me in the face.

I recognized her at once—it was the girl I’d seen in the Mirror of the Eye and she was standing right in front of me.

Chapter Thirty-three

Gwendolyn

“Gwendolyn?” she asked, looking at me. “Oh, Gwendolyn, thank you! I thought I’d be a lily-moth forever.”

“Eryn?” I stared at her blankly. “Is that you?”

“It is.” She came forward and took me by the hands, looking earnestly into my face. “Ah—I knew I’d be able to touch you, even in my true form,” she said, smiling. “Your heart is pure, then.”

“If you say so.” I shook my head. “But I don’t understand. How…why…?” There were too many questions—I couldn’t get them all out so I just shook my head and decided to start from the top. “Who are you?” I asked.

“One who has been lost for a long time.” She made an expansive gesture with both hands and the feathery cape she wore around her shoulders rustled. I stared at it, my mind working on something I couldn’t yet name.

“Wait a minute—that’s no cape. Those are wings,” I exclaimed. “You…you’re an—”

“An angel.” She smiled at me. “I was dragged down from Heaven—trapped in a cruel snare set by the demons to take angels unawares. There is nothing they like so much as despoiling innocence.” She shivered. “When I found you at the Hotel Infernal, I had almost given up hope. But you were kind to me and let me ride on your shoulder. I tried to talk to you but most of the time you couldn’t hear me.”

The penny finally dropped, as Grams would say, and a shock of understanding burst through me.

“Wait a minute—an angel…one who’s been with me since I left the Hotel Infernal…” I jumped to my feet, pointing at her. “You’re the one—the thing that Druaga says I stole—the thing he wants back so badly.”

“You won’t give me back to him, will you?” Her huge purple eyes grew wide with fear. “Oh, please—you don’t know the horrible, sick things he wants to do to me!”

“I can imagine,” I said grimly, thinking of the disgusting boar-headed demon with his gleaming gold tusk and his oversized equipment.

“He wasn’t able to touch me before because only one with a purity and love in their heart can touch an angel,” she went on quickly. “He was working on a way, though—he’d almost found the solution when I finally managed to take my other form and escape. But then…I got stuck. I couldn’t leave my moth form no matter how hard I tried. If you hadn’t spoken that spell just now I might have remained that way forever.”

“You’ve been talking to me all along, haven’t you?” I asked, feeling stupid. “That was you in the Tunnel of Sighs. And that was why you got so excited over the Angel book in the library. Only I was too preoccupied with myself and Laish to pick up the clues.”

“I do not blame you,” she said gently. “I’m grateful you were willing to let me travel with you. And…” She bit her lip. “I am sorry about Lord Laish. I knew him in Heaven you know. Before…before the Fall. He was the most magnificent archangel—he burned with a pure, white light more brilliant than the sun.”

I thought of the being Laish had become—of his flaming eyes and hair and the vast, black wings. I thought of him telling me that he loved me and how I would never see him again…

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the angel said anxiously. “I did not mean to make you cry! Of course, I should not have mentioned him—not while your grief is still so fresh.”

“No, no…it’s all right.” I wiped at my streaming eyes. “I just…miss him so much. Despite what he did right…right before he left. I…I guess I love him. Loved him, I mean.” I blotted my eyes on my t-shirt. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to talk about him—tell me more. Why did he leave? Heaven, I mean.”

“There were many reasons why a third of the Heavenly Host decided to defect to Lucifer’s side and make war against the Creator,” she said, frowning. “But if I remember correctly, Lord Laish left for love—or for the possibility of love, at least.”

“Love?” I raised an eyebrow. “The voice in the Tunnel of Sighs said it was pride.”

“Well that is the root of all sins—pride in thinking you are right in your views, no matter what,” she pointed out. “But it was love, I am certain. You see, we angels are not attracted to one another for the Creator made us to be sexless beings.”

“Really?” I eyed her skeptically. For an angel, she was no skinny minny. In fact, she had full curving breasts and hips that would have done a Plus-sized model proud back home. “No offense but you don’t look like you’d be sexless,” I said.

She blushed, her pale cheeks turning a sweet, innocent pink.

“Well, not all of us are. Some have urges and…and cravings. But just because one has urges does not mean one has to act on them.” She cleared her throat. “And as I said, we are not attracted to each other. But then the Creator made man and some of the male angels, well, they found the daughters of Eve lovely to behold. And they…” She blushed again, even harder. “They wanted to lie with them,” she almost whispered.

I almost laughed—no wonder Laish had become a demon of lust!

“So you’re saying that Laish got kicked out of Heaven because he wanted to get some from a mortal girl? Who did he fall for? What was her name?”

“Oh no, you have mistaken my meaning.” She shook her head quickly, her wings rustling. “Some of the other angels did have relationships with mortal females. But Lord Laish did not. He only wanted the right to have such a relationship. But the Creator would not consent to it. It was and is still forbidden for an angel to have relations with a mortal being.”

“Is that right?” I frowned. “And I’m guessing that an angel and a demon doing the nasty is off the table too, right?”

She shuddered delicately. “As if anyone would want to lie with a demon! Well—not Lord Laish, I mean,” she said hastily. “I could understand that—even as a demon he was magnificent. But that beast, Druaga…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain—I understand,” I said. “And I completely agree with you—he’s disgusting.”

Her purple eyes widened again.

“If I hadn’t left just when I did he would have despoiled me and I would have been stuck here forever. Once an angel has been well, penetrated, she can no longer return to the Heavenly Realm and resume her duties as an angel.”

“Well, Druaga’s not going to get a chance to despoil you,” I said firmly. “I promise you that…uh…You know, I’ve been calling you Eryn all this time but I just realized I don’t know your real name,” I said.

She smiled sadly.

“Neither do I. I believe I spent too much time in my moth form because I cannot now recall it. I do like the name you gave me, though. Eryn is a lovely name—you may keep calling me that if you like.”

“All right. Well, Eryn…” I squeezed her hand. “I promise you’re not going back to that…that pig. We’ll find some way to keep you safe.”

“Maybe another spell from your book,” she suggested eagerly.

I thought of the spell I’d seen to protect the innocent.

“Maybe,” I said cautiously. “But I’ve only got half my power now—I gave up half when Laish and I…when we, uh, lay together.” Was that the right way to say it? I didn’t want to offend her delicate angel sensibilities but she only nodded.

“I understand. But maybe you could just try? In fact, maybe you could find a way for both of us to escape from here and go home.”

“Open a door to another realm we could both go through on only half power?” I gave a short laugh. “Hardly. That would take two or three times the power I used to have. In fact, I don’t even know how I got the spell that turned you back to your normal self to work.” I frowned. “It’s weird—I wasn’t even trying.”

“Maybe you have more power than you think.” Eryn looked at me hopefully. “Please, Gwendolyn?”

“Well, there’s no harm in trying, I guess,” I said. Picking up the ancient spell book, I began paging through it again until I got to the spell for protecting the innocent. I read through it twice, very carefully.

“Well?” Eryn asked eagerly, her face shining. And I mean that—she was literally shining with purity and light. I was guessing that angels never needed flashlights or light bulbs since they were their own light source.

“It might work,” I said slowly. “If only I had the right materials to set it up. But I don’t have…” I stopped myself. “Wait a minute—let me look.”

I dived for the voluminous saddle bags and started digging through them again. Sure enough, I found all the spell casting equipment Laish had brought with us for the summoning spell tucked neatly away in one of the large pockets. Okay, so I did have the necessary equipment—but did I have the power?

I looked at the spell again and my heart sank as a detail I hadn’t noticed before caught my eye. This spell was meant to be worked by an entire coven—three or more witches at least—at once. Even a witch with Grams’ power and experience would have had difficulty getting results flying solo. And I was not Grams—even on my best day I didn’t have her level of control and skill. Not to mention that now I only had half as much power as I’d had before.

“Well?” Eryn asked again and this time there was a note of worry in her voice.

I opened my mouth to tell her there was no hope but I couldn’t do it. She and I were facing the same awful fate at the hands of Druaga. I couldn’t just sit there like a lump moaning about how awful it was without even trying to do something about it. Even a failed attempt was better than giving up.

“I’ll try,” I told her at last. “I’m afraid I can’t promise anything but I will try.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you! That’s all I ask.” Her eyes were shining with gratitude I hadn’t earned. Half power or not, it made me determined to do my best. “Come on,” I told her. “Let’s get to work.”

Some time later, I looked around, checking the circle I’d made on the thick carpet. I looked around, checking the circle I’d made on the thick carpet. With no other way to draw on it, I’d had to use some perfumed talcum powder I’d found among the bath things Bobbin had brought to me back when Laish and I first stayed here.

Just the thought of Laish made my eyes burn and my throat feel tight but I went on resolutely, putting my grief behind me, at least for a little while. I had a job to do here and though I had no idea how I was going to do the work of three witches when I only had half the power of one, I knew I had to try.

“Here we go,” I told Eryn. “Now you stand here, in the center of the circle while I call the corners. And after I speak the spell, be ready in case it works.”

“What is going to happen?” She looked at me uncertainly.

“I’m not sure,” I said truthfully. “It’s a spell for protecting and warding the innocent—I think it was originally used for children. Maybe to put an invisible wall of protection around them. Or ward them some other way in times of danger. I’m only able to use it on you because you’re a virgin.” I raised an eyebrow at her. “Um, you are a virgin, right?”

“Of course.” Her cheeks were pink. “I’ve never been penetrated—nor do I want to be!”

“I used to think the same thing,” I muttered and then sighed. Well, I had to admit my one and only sexual experience with Laish had been amazing—right up until the end that was. So at least I had some good memories. Eryn, however, was an angel. It was right that she should remain as she was—untouched and pure as the driven snow.

“So I should just be ready for anything that happens?” she asked me.

I nodded. “Yup—pretty much. Sorry, I know that’s vague.”

“That’s all right, Gwendolyn—do what you can. I am in your hands. But maybe I’d better pull in my wings? Just in case?”

“Uh, sure, I guess,” I said.

“All right.” A look of concentration passed over her face and then the white feathers around her shoulders began shrinking. After a moment, they disappeared completely.

“Uh—where did they go?” Mystified, I went around behind her to see. Her long white gown had thin spaghetti straps and on the pale skin of her shoulder blades, I saw something that looked like a faint tattoo of wings. But a tattoo done in pure gold ink—not black or blue. “That’s beautiful!” I exclaimed. Without thinking, I reached out to trace one of the golden lines with one finger.

“Oh!” Eryn shivered and jumped.

“Sorry,” I said, quickly drawing back my hand. “I didn’t mean to, uh, hurt you.”

“It’s not that. An angel’s wings are just very…sensitive.” She cleared her throat. “A sensitive as certain other parts of your anatomy that, well… I think you know what I mean.”

She was blushing again so I got the message. Geeze, I’d just molested an angel without even knowing it.

“I’m really sorry,” I said quickly, taking a step back. “Uh, maybe we’d just better get going.”

“That is probably a good idea.” She nodded gratefully and closed her eyes. “I am ready.”

I was too—it was time to get this party started. Especially since I had no idea when Belial might come back or send his guards to get me for the ridiculous hearing Druaga was insisting on. I needed to get Eryn out of here and get rid of all evidence of her before that happened. That way, at least, I could deny that I had anything of his and it would be the truth.

“Hail to the Guardians of the watchtowers of the East,” I began.

To my surprise, as I started the spell, I felt a surge of power flow through me. It was almost like I had plugged part of myself into a wall circuit and the current had begun to flow as soon as I flipped a switch. Well, there was no time to wonder about it now—once a spell is started, it must be seen through to its conclusion. So I continued calling the corners and lighting candles, trying not to think about how the last time I’d done this, Laish had been with me.

When I had lit the final candle, I stood in front of the small alter and the remaining white pillar candle and began to recite the spell. I had memorized it, of course—it doesn’t do not to know your spell by heart before you begin it. And anyway, it hadn’t been hard to commit to memory—it was a pretty simple spell aimed at only one thing—complete and total protection of the innocent.

“Blessed be the innocent,

Blessed be the pure of heart.

So be they at the end of times

As they are at the Start.

Protection grant this Blameless One

A wall around her build

Let none with wicked thoughts approach

Against them be her shield

Send her a protector

A guard against the night

A way to hide her innocence

Away from Evil’s sight

Blessed be the innocent,

Blessed be the pure of heart.

So be they at the end of times

As they are at the Start.

So Mote it be.”

As I spoke the last word, power raced through me again—so strongly it nearly knocked me over. I braced myself, head down, trying to be strong enough to contain the immense surge. What the Hell was happening to me? Then I heard Eryn say,

“Oh!” in a long, drawn out whisper.

Looking up, I saw the result of my spell.

I don’t know what I expected—maybe that an invisible force field would be raised all around Eryn or that a magical shield she could use would somehow appear. Instead, a plain wooden doorway had appeared in the center of the circle. It looked like any door you might find inside a house—maybe a bedroom or a closet door—and it was just standing there.

“What is this? Where does it lead?” Eryn asked me softly.

I shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. You’ll have to open it and find out.”

“But…is it safe?” She was eyeing the door anxiously. “It doesn’t look like a door that would lead to Heaven.”

“No, it looks like somebody’s bedroom or bathroom door,” I admitted. “I don’t think I could open a doorway from Hell into Heaven even if I had the power of an entire coven behind me. I’m pretty sure that this leads to somewhere in the Mortal Realm.”

“Well, that is a step in the right direction.” She sounded hopeful but still uncertain.

“Anything’s better than Hell,” I agreed. “Maybe the spell is trying to send you someplace safe—someplace away from here.”

“But where, Gwendolyn?” Eryn was looking at me uncertainly again. “Do you know where this doorway might lead to?”

I opened my mouth to answer but just then the door to the living area was flung open and Belial hobbled in. Behind him came two burly demon guards and Druaga.

The boar demon was still minus one tusk but his male equipment had begun to grow back. I saw with dismay that it was already over a foot long and dangling from his open-fronted trousers in the most disgusting way. When he saw Eryn, he stopped and pointed at her with one hairy finger.

“There she is! I told you the mortal girl stole something of great value from me! Guards—seize her!”

The two demons came charging forward…only to bounce off the invisible boundary created by my magic circle. They wouldn’t be able to get past it until they rubbed it out entirely—which wouldn’t be easy considering that the talcum powder I’d used had really gotten ingrained in the weave of the carpet. Still, there was no time to lose—Eryn needed to get out of here.

Unfortunately she appeared frozen to the spot, staring with wide-eyed fear at Druaga who was in a fury, shouting and swearing.

“Mine,” he snorted. “I tell you, she’s mine! The mortal female stole her from me—it is just as I said.”

“Yes, yes,” said Belial impatiently. “We believe you, Druaga. But if you want the angel back, we must rub out the circle.”

Uh-oh—they were on to us. As the four of them started scuffing at the white talcum powder on the dark carpet, I whirled around to face my new friend.

“Eryn,” I said, taking the angel by the arms and shaking her. “Eryn, hurry—you have to open the door and go through it. You have to.”

“But…I don’t know what or who is on the other side,” she protested.

“Yes but you know who’s on this side,” I pointed out grimly. “And if you don’t go now, you know what’s going to happen to you.”

Her pale, lovely face got even paler.

“You’re right,” she said, reaching for the plain brass doorknob. “I have to go—and you do too.” She looked at me pleadingly. “Gwendolyn, come with me!”

“I can’t,” I said as gently as I could. “I have to keep the magic going. And besides, this spell only works on virgins and I’m not one anymore—remember?”

“Oh yes, I suppose…” She looked like she might cry but Druaga and Belial were beginning to make headway at scuffing my talcum powder circle out of existence.

“Hurry,” I told her. “Hurry!”

“All right.” Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob just as I felt the magic of the circle give way.

“No, stop her! Come back—she’s mine!” Druaga howled, charging into the circle with his arms outstretched to grab Eryn.

“Leave her alone!” I got in his way, trying to keep him from getting to her but I didn’t have to bother.

The minute the door opened there was a deep rushing, sucking sound. I had a brief, confused glimpse of the room beyond—there was a four poster bed but it appeared like I was looking down on it. It was as though the door was in the ceiling somehow and it was positioned directly over the bed. But I couldn’t see who or what was sleeping in it—there was just an indistinct lump under the covers. A very large lump. Oh Goddess, where was Eryn going and who was she going to land on?

I didn’t have long to wonder. With a gasp, Eryn was sucked through the doorway and into the dark bedroom beyond.

“Stop—I command you!” Belial shouted but it was too late. The minute Eryn was through it, the door slammed itself shut.

“Mine—she’s mine!” Druaga bellowed. He pushed me to one side, knocking me to my knees in the process, and reached for the door. But the spell had done what it was meant to do and now it was finished. The brass doorknob came off in the boar demon’s hand and the rest of the door shivered and then crumbled to dust right in front of him.

I breathed a sigh of relief—Eryn was safe! Well, I hoped so anyway. The spell had been all about protecting the innocent so it must have sent her to someone who could help and protect her. But who?

“Seize her!” Belial shouted, breaking into my frantic thoughts. The two demon guards both grabbed me by the arm with their hot, hard hands.

“Hey, let me go!” I struggled but it didn’t do a damn bit of good. The demons had too strong a grip on me. And even if I could get loose, where would I go? I was stuck here in Hell, with no way out.

“You are to be tried and sentenced immediately.” Belial glared at me, the last vestiges of his kindly old grandpa persona disappearing completely. “And I assure you, Ms. LaRoux, you will be found guilty—I will see to that myself.”

I realized I had bigger things to worry about now than where Eryn had been sent by my spell. Right now I had to worry about keeping my own hide intact and judging from the way Belial and Druaga were glaring at me, it wasn’t going to be easy.

Chapter Thirty-four

Gwendolyn

“This Council of the Elder Demons will convene at once.” Belial rapped on the broad wooden table. “Order—order now,” he shouted, as though someone had disagreed with him.

Seated around the table—which looked like it could have come out of any boardroom in corporate America—were a dozen demons, each older and uglier than the last. Belial was standing at the head of the table and Druaga was sitting at his right hand, presumably acting as the accuser.

I was standing at the head of the table on the left side of Belial with my hands bound behind by back, waiting to hear my fate. A fate which wouldn’t be long in coming, I was sure. This didn’t seem like the kind of court where your case could drag out for months and months or you could make any kind of appeal. No, they were going to try me and find me guilty right now and then probably hand me over to Druaga.

I’d rather die than let that evil bastard touch me! I thought, trying to suppress a shiver. I’ll kill myself first. But how? I looked around for a weapon—any kind of weapon. If I could find something I would use it to defend myself first and if that didn’t work, I would turn it around and end my life before the evil demon could get me. But how could I do anything with my hands tied?

My morbid thoughts were interrupted as Belial started talking again.

“As you know, the accused, one Gwendolyn LaRoux, has been charged with the theft of a very valuable item from the accuser, Druaga, the manager and owner of the Hotel Infernal.”

“It wasn’t an item,” I said, speaking up on my own behalf since apparently you didn’t get a lawyer in court here in Hell. “It was a person—an angel. You can’t just steal a person! If anything, Druaga is in the wrong here! He’s an evil, vicious, lecherous bastard who—”

“Enough! Enough, Miss LaRoux!” Belial shouted, pounding on the table again. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Do you really think that your arguments carry weight here? Think about it, young lady—you are in Hell. Druaga was simply doing what comes naturally to demons—seeking to destroy innocence. If anything, this Council applauds his efforts—the capture of an angel is no small achievement.”

“Hear, hear!” several of the demons on the Council shouted, banging on the table.

“An achievement you snatched away from him by stealing the angel he had rightfully stolen from Heaven,” Belial continued.

“You’re all sick!” I shouted, balling my hands into fists behind my back. “And anyway, I didn’t steal her—she hitched a ride on my shoulder in her moth form. I didn’t even know she was an angel until a few hours ago.”

“At which point you proceeded to work a spell that would free her from Druaga and sent her to some other unspecified place which you refuse to reveal,” Belial thundered.

“I told you—I don’t know where she went!” I said. “The spell was for protecting the innocent. It probably just sent her as far away from this evil bastard as it could.” I nodded at the boar demon who was snarling at me.

“Don’t worry about that—we will find her.” Belial glared at me. “It may take time but she will be located. In the meantime, since you are wholly uncooperative and unrepentant of your crimes, I recommend to the Council that you be given to Druaga as compensation for his lost property. All in favor?”

“Aye!” shouted every single demon at the table.

“All opposed?” Belial asked. Not a single one of them spoke up—there was dead silence.

“The motion carries and the sentence is just,” Belial concluded. “The accused will be handed over to the accuser at once to be dealt with as he sees fit.”

“What? No!” I exclaimed. Deep down I had been expecting this—I knew it was the most probable outcome of the travesty of a trial I was being subjected to. But I’d thought deliberations would last a little longer. I didn’t even have anything to defend myself with—or kill myself if there was no other way. Because I didn’t want Druaga touching me—the thought of that huge, hairy thing dangling between his legs getting anywhere near me was repulsive. Better to die than wind up being used over and over for his sick pleasure.

Druaga rose from his seat and came over to me.

“A poor substitute for the treasure I lost,” he snarled. His long, hairy snout wrinkled as he leaned forward and took a deep whiff of my hair. I jerked away from him but he didn’t seem to care. “She has lost her innocence and half of her soul as well since last I saw her,” he announced.

I had no idea what he was talking about but I didn’t want to hang around and find out.

“Stay away from me,” I said in a shaky voice, trying to inch back from him. Unfortunately the two demon guards were only a few steps away.

“Hold her,” Belial directed them and they gripped me by the upper arms, forcing me to hold still.

“Now be a good girl, my dear and it will all be over quickly.” Druaga leered at me. Or maybe not so quickly.”

Without warning, he grabbed the top of my t-shirt in his hairy hands and yanked, ripping it viciously down the middle. My extra bra hadn’t survived my adventures in Hell so this left my breasts completely bare.

“No!” I writhed in anger and shame, my exposed nipples hardened both by the cold air and the chilly fear I could feel knotting up my stomach.

Druaga paid no attention.

“Nice—very nice,” he snorted, surveying my bare breasts. Then he sniffed me again, this time bending down to poke his disgusting snout right in my crotch.

“You asshole!” I kicked out reflexively and the toe of my little black ballet flat caught him in the throat.

“Argh!” He jumped back, his hairy hand going to his throat. “You little bitch!” he snarled in a choked voice. “Half a soul or not, I’ll take you like I should’ve from the start.”

He stepped forward again, one hand going to his hardening member. I felt my stomach turn with a sick twist. He was really going to do it—he was going to rape me and take my soul right here in the board room, in front of the entire Council of Demons! And no one was going to do a thing to stop him—including me because I didn’t have a weapon.

Yes, you do have a weapon! whispered a little voice inside my head. You’ve got power inside you if you just let it out!

I didn’t know what the voice was talking about but I knew I needed to find out. But before I could think further, Druaga was leaning over me, blowing his hot, rotten breath in my face and fumbling between us for the button of my jeans.

“Get away from me!” I shouted in his face but he only laughed. I tried to kick him again but he dodged me and stripped down my jeans and panties, effectively hobbling my legs.

“Come here, my pretty little mortal,” he snorted in my face. “Give me a sweet kiss while I fuck out your soul…”

Oh, this was so not good…If only I had time and the right materials to try and cast a spell. But my magic didn’t work that way. It wasn’t like I could just shout out a word like Laish had! The thought started a loop in my frantic brain. Words of power…words of power…if only I could say them like he did!

I felt something hot and hard and slimy poking against the inside of my thigh and the boar’s snout was closing in on my face, snuffling against my cheek. A shudder of pure disgust went through me. I felt like I was going to gag or faint or go crazy or maybe all three at once.

No, no I can’t stand this! I can’t let him do it! I can’t!

I turned my head to one side and opened my mouth, meaning to scream or shout. Instead, a word I had never heard before came pouring out.

I say pouring out but it was more like it came sizzling out like a lightning bolt—a flash of electricity that singed the hairs on Druaga’s snout and made him jump back with a curse.

“What in the name of Lucifer?” he growled.

“Stay back from me or I’ll do it again, you nasty bastard!” I gasped, though I had no idea how I had done what I had done in the first place. “I’ll fry you like a fucking piece of bacon!”

“You can’t!” Druaga drew back, his muddy eyes uncertain.

“I can! Laish taught me everything he knew about words of power,” I lied recklessly. “If he was here now—”

“Well, he’s not,” Belial thundered, glaring at me. “And he never will be again, thanks to you, you filthy little mortal!” He nodded at the guards who were still holding me, although not as tightly as before. “Someone gag her. That should stop any further displays while Druaga finishes her punishment.”

I opened my mouth to shout again but a hot, hard palm slapped over my face before I could speak.

“Now, Druaga,” Belial said, an evil grin curling the corners of his thin, blue lips. “You may proceed.”

“I will.” The boar-headed demon got back into position between my thighs. “I’m going to have fun with this little bitch. And since Lord Laish isn’t here to stop me—”

“Oh, but he is.”

The low, familiar voice came as a shock to more than just me. Every head in the room jerked up, including mine. To my mingled relief and astonishment, I saw Laish standing in the doorway of the plush boardroom. He was wearing an immaculate three piece suit and a look of utter rage on his face. But when he spoke, his voice came out cold and terribly quiet.

“Druaga,” he said softly. “Take your hands off Gwendolyn and step away from her now or suffer the consequences.”

* * * * *

Laish

How can I express my rage at seeing those filthy hands on the woman I loved? Words cannot express it. I wanted to kill every last one of them—to maim and rend—to tear out their hearts and burn them at their feet. A crude solution, perhaps, but doubtless an effective one.

I restrained myself with some effort. Gwendolyn had been subjected to enough already. All I wanted now was to get her out of here once and for all and see her safely home to the Mortal Realm.

“My Lord Laish,” Druaga sputtered, stepping quickly away from my little witch. “We were told…we thought…”

“I can see well enough what you thought.” Striding past him, I gripped Gwendolyn under the arm and pulled her behind me, shielding her with my body. I could feel her trembling as she tried to get herself together. The fear and anxiety coming from her in waves only increased my rage.

“My Lord,” Belial began. “The Mirror of the Eye showed—”

“The Mirror showed what—that I was dead? Or gone beyond recovering?” I glared at him. “And you thought the best way to react to my death was to hurt the woman I love?” I shook my head. “Words cannot express the depth of this betrayal—I trusted you, my old Master. I told Gwendolyn to go to you for safe passage back to her home. And how do you repay my trust? By giving her to this…this beast?”

I nodded in disgust at Druaga. The boar-headed demon was still standing there with his member in one hand. Now he rather unwisely began to talk.

“She stole what was mine! I was taking the compensation awarded by the Council,” he snorted. “It is my right—”

“You have no right to the woman I love.” With a flick of my wrist, I caused the black-bladed thrak to appear in my hand.

Druaga’s eyes widened when he saw the weapon.

“You can’t use that on me! You have no soul to wield it with.”

“Are you certain about that?” I took a step towards him, holding the thrak out before me.

His face filled with fear, but still he didn’t have the sense to shut up.

“Even if you could, a soul-killer is forbidden! It is against the law!”

“Have you forgotten who is Lord of this realm?” I demanded in a low voice. “I am the law.”

With ruthless pleasure, I plunged the dagger into the blackened husk of his heart. It took almost everything I had left of the piece of soul I had stolen, but I felt the blade do its work before I withdrew it.

With an agonized cry, Druaga stumbled backwards and burst into black flames. They sprouted from his one remaining tusk first. Then, as he tried frantically to beat them out, they spread to his hands and then his arms, flowing like oil along his skin and clothing. At last he was completely consumed—a shrieking ball of black fire, staggering around the room trying desperately to put himself out.

I knew he would not be successful. Nor would death end his burning. Even after he was completely consumed, his essence would writhe forever in the Lake of Fire—entombed for eternity in unspeakable agony. It was the fate that awaited every demon when he died and I was pleased to inflict it on Druaga now.

At last his struggles were over and he was no more than a pile of ashes on the marble floor and a cloud of foul smelling smoke which I waved away with a word. I turned to Belial and the rest of the Council and held out the thrak.

“Would any of you care to be next?”

“My Lord!” Belial sounded aghast. “You cannot threaten the Council!”

“And why not?” I demanded. “Only moments ago they were threatening Gwendolyn. Not a one of them lifted a finger to protect her from Druaga—yourself included. In fact, you gave her to him.”

“My Lord, please,” the old demon pleaded. “I know you are upset but listen to reason—you only think you love this mortal female! She has bewitched you—around her hangs the scent of the Eternal Flame!”

I gave a short laugh. “Is that what you think?”

“It is what I know.” Belial looked at me earnestly, in the way which used to move my heart. Now it did nothing but make me angry. “Please, my Lord,” he groveled. “She nearly killed you with her feminine wiles—please, see reason!”

“The only thing I see is someone I once cared for who is now nothing to me,” I told him coldly. “Go, Belial. For the sake of our shared past, I will not kill you. But you are banished from my realm henceforward and forevermore.”

“But my Lord,” he whined. “I am old…all of my books, my study materials are here. I cannot simply leave. I’d be torn to pieces the minute I left Dis!”

“That is not my concern,” I said. “Go now or I will let Gwendolyn ‘fry you like a piece of bacon’ as I believe I heard her say earlier.”

Whining and muttering to himself, the old demon hunched his way out of the Council room door. As he left, he threw one last baleful glance over his humped shoulder at Gwendolyn.

She lifted her chin and glared back at him, clutching her torn shirt tightly to her breasts. I was glad to see her composure had returned though I could still feel a slight tremor running through her. I longed to take her in my arms and comfort her but I knew she would not want any comfort I could offer. Besides, I had one last matter to attend to first.

I turned to the Council.

“You are all dismissed. Go and never return to my realm.”

There were mutters of disbelief and rage and some threatened to speak to Lucifer himself.

“Speak to him then.” I raised the thrak menacingly. “I care not. Only get out of my sight before I decide Druaga needs company in the Lake of Fire.” It was an empty threat—I had only a shred left of the soul I had stolen and it was far too precious to me to waste it on any of them.

The members of the Council did not know that, however. My words got them moving with admirable alacrity, considering their age. Casting frightened glances at the thrak I held, they shuffled quickly from the room.

When they were gone at last with the door slammed shut behind them, I turned to Gwendolyn.

“Mon ange,” I said, unable to help using my old nickname for her. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said and then burst into tears.

“Gwendolyn…” I knew I had no right to comfort her but I couldn’t help myself. I drew her into my arms and held her close to my chest, feeling the connection between us throb with her emotion. It was a connection I would have to give up soon enough but I couldn’t bring myself to do it now—not yet. Not when she was trembling and crying in my arms.

“Oh, Laish,” she whispered at last. “I thought you were dead.”

“I was, for a time,” I told her truthfully enough. “But listen, mon ange, this is not the best place to talk. Tell me, are you ready to go home?”

“Yes,” she whispered, wiping her eyes. “Oh, yes—please, Laish. Take me home!”

“With pleasure,” I said.

With a wave of my hand, I opened a door to the Mortal Realm. Then, taking her by the arm, I pulled her through, back to her home and to safety, fulfilling my promise though it broke my heart to do so. My betrayal had been too great for her to forgive—of that I was certain. Once her tears had run their course, she would remember how cruelly I had treated her and want nothing more to do with me.

She would be well rid of me, I told myself stoically. I had caused her nothing but pain and grief and if I didn’t wish to hurt her any more, I had to let her go.

Though I loved my little witch more than I could express, it was time to say goodbye.

* * * * *

Gwendolyn

We came back right in front of Grams’ small, neat front lawn in the middle of the night. At least, I think it was the middle of the night. I wasn’t wearing a watch but it was dark and the air had that still, cold feeling it gets in the early morning hours just after midnight.

Even in Florida it gets a little chilly sometimes. I shivered and tried to pull my torn shirt closer around myself.

“Are you cold?” Laish looked at me, his ruby eyes filled with anxiety and something else—some emotion I couldn’t quite read.

“A little,” I admitted. “Too bad I didn’t think to grab that fur coat you gave me right before they dragged me down to the…to the trial.”

I could hear the break in my own voice as I said the words but I tried to cover it up by clearing my throat. The events of the last few minutes were just beginning to sink in. Being handed over to Druaga…almost being raped…and then the incredible mixture of relief and disbelief I felt when I saw Laish standing there and knowing everything would be okay. Then the horror of seeing the boar-demon incinerated before my eyes…I could still smell the stink like burning pork and hear his squealing screams echoing in my ears…

Ugh—stop! Just stop! I told myself but somehow I couldn’t. The memories were on a loop inside my brain, playing over and over, making me feel sick and weak and shaky.

“Here,” Laish murmured. Taking off his immaculate charcoal gray suit jacket, he put it around my shoulders.

“Thanks.” I slipped my arms into the sleeves and looked down at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. I had so much I wanted to ask him, so much I wanted to say, but somehow the words wouldn’t come. Or maybe I was just afraid if I started talking too much, I would start crying again.

“Well…” His voice had a briskness to it that made me look up. “You are home safely, the door to the Abyss is shut, and you have no more to fear from the HellSpawn or any other creature of the Infernal Realm.”

“Thank you,” I said again because my stupid brain couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“So I suppose it is time to leave you with your beloved grandmother and let you get on with your mortal life.” He nodded at the trim yellow bungalow where I knew Grams was probably sleeping right this minute.

Suddenly I realized he was saying goodbye to me. And it didn’t sound like he was coming back.

“Laish,” I said beginning to panic. “Wait, I—”

“Gwendy? Gwendy is that you?”

The soft familiar voice came from the vicinity of the front porch. As I watched, a shape detached itself from the mass of shadows and came towards me. The moon was full and in its light, I could see the haggard face of my little sister.

“Keisha?” I left Laish standing there and ran to meet her. The last time I’d seen her in the Mirror of the Eye, she’d looked like a real mess. She didn’t look much better now but at least I could tell she was clean. There was no drug haze in her dark brown eyes when she looked at me, though they did shine with tears.

“Gwendy,” she whispered and then she was in my arms and we were hugging and kissing and holding each other for the first time in ages.

“What’s this? What’s going on out here?” another voice declared and Grams came out the front door in her pink quilted house robe looking ready to shoot whoever was trespassing on her property. Grams doesn’t play when it comes to intruders. But when she saw who it was, she ran forward and encircled both Keisha and me in her arms.

“Grams!” Keisha cried.

“Keisha, child! And Gwendolyn! Oh, my girls—both my girls have come back to me! Thank the Goddess!”

Grams was nearly crying she was so happy and Keisha and I were crying.

“How did you get home safe?” Grams asked. I think she was talking to me but it was Keisha who answered.

“Ray’s gone, Grams—that’s why I came home. He just disappeared the other night—right out of the bed. I don’t know what happened to him!”

“Well, neither do I.” Grams shot me a look and muttered in my ear, “Now you wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would you, Gwendolyn?”

“No, I swear,” I whispered back, glad that Keisha was crying too loudly to hear me. “It wasn’t me. It was…” But as I turned my head to nod at Laish, I saw that the spot he had been standing in was empty. Frantically, I scanned the front yard, looking for any trace of him but he had melted quietly away, almost as though he was a dream I’d had just before waking. “Laish,” I whispered but there was no reply.

He was gone.

Chapter Thirty-five

Gwendolyn

“Well, then what happened?” Addison demanded. She and Taylor were literally on the edge of their seats, staring at me with wide eyes as I repeated the story I’d already told Grams what felt like a hundred times. Of course, I edited quite a lot of it for Grams but here with my friends, I felt like I could really talk and I had been completely honest with them.

I shrugged. “Then, well…we came back in the middle of the night and it was cold and my shirt was torn so he…he gave me his jacket.”

I still had it hanging in my closet. Even though it had been days since Laish had brought me back, it still smelled faintly of cinnamon and that dark spice that always hung around him. I knew because I was guilty of going to the closet and pressing my face against it, just to feel close to him again. Stupid, I know but I couldn’t seem to help myself.

“And?” Taylor asked.

“And then my little sister showed up and he left while I was distracted.” I sighed. “I haven’t seen him since.”

“Well, have you tried to see him?” Addison asked practically. “I mean, have you called him or summonsed him or whatever it is you do with demons?”

“Well…no,” I admitted. To be honest, I’d been afraid to. What if I called and he didn’t answer? What if he never answered again? The way he’d said goodbye had seemed so final.

“You should call him,” Taylor said. “Didn’t you say that he said he loved you?”

“Repeatedly,” I said. “But then Belial said Laish only thought he loved me because of the Eternal Flame.”

“What? That Bangles song from the 80s?” Addison looked confused.

I explained quickly and then shrugged.

“So you see—he probably doesn’t love me at all. He just thinks he does.”

“Well, he’s got a funny way of showing that he thinks he loves you,” Taylor said. “Since he also took your virginity and half your power.”

“But did he?” Addison asked, looking at me. “I thought you said you opened a portal from Hell into our world. Doesn’t that take some serious juice as a witch?”

“Well, yes it does,” I admitted. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I did that.”

“And how did Laish close the door to the Abyss that you opened when you dragged me back here?” Taylor asked. “I thought the whole point of you going to Hell in the first place was because only someone with your—how did you put it?”

“My ‘soul signature’ what was Laish kept saying,” I said.

“Right—only someone with your soul signature could close the door—at least according to him. So then why did he make you come if he was able to close it without you?”

“To mess with her head?” Addison suggested. “Demons are almost as bad as vampires when it comes to that.”

“Thanks a lot.” Taylor made a face at her friend, showing her little white fangs. “I just think it’s weird that he says he loves her and then betrays her and then come back and saves her just in the nick of time. Something doesn’t add up there.”

“Like I said—he’s messing with her head,” Addison said flatly.

“What if he’s not?” Taylor demanded. “What if he had a perfectly good reason for everything he did?”

“Like what?” Addison demanded. “What reason could he have to drag her down to Hell if he was able to shut that door on his own in the first place?”

“But that’s the thing,” I interrupted their heated discussion. “I’m pretty sure he shouldn’t have been able to close it at all. Grams thought the same or she never would have let me go in the first place.”

“Well maybe he had to take you to Hell in order to get close enough to you for some of your, uh, ‘soul signature’ to rub off on him,” Taylor proposed.

“No, it doesn’t work that way.” I rubbed my eyes, wishing I could get some perspective. But every time I closed my eyes, all the awful events of my time in Hell intruded, demanding to be taken out and examined like poison toys wanting out of their box. I was so distracted at this point I could barely think straight—which was one reason I’d invited Taylor and Addison over—to help me make sense of the whole mess.

“Well how does it work then?” Addison demanded.

“To shut that door, Laish would have had to get a piece of my soul somehow,” I said. “And…oh my Goddess…” Understanding poured over my head like a bucket of cold water. “Oh my Goddess,” I whispered again. “Why didn’t I see it before?”

“What? What?” Taylor was bouncing excitedly on my Grams’ faded floral print couch and Addison was looking at me intently.

“When the Demon Council was giving me over to Druaga—”

“That’s the pig-headed hotel manager, right?” Taylor said.

I nodded. “Yeah. So anyway, when they were handing me over, he said I had lost my innocence and half my soul since the last time he’d seen me. I didn’t think about it at the time since I was so freaked out but then…”

“Then Laish appeared and stabbed the evil pig-headed bastard with a weapon that requires you to have a soul to use it,” Addison said. And before that, he closed a door that required Gwendolyn’s soul signature.”

“Oh my God.” Taylor’s face went paper pale. “He literally stole your soul! Just like in all the old stories about demons.”

“No—he only stole half.” Addison looked at me excitedly. “You know, I think Taylor is right—I think he had a reason for everything he did.”

“Oh crap…” I put my head down between my knees, feeling suddenly light-headed.

“Gwendolyn, hon? Are you okay?” Addison hopped up to rub my shoulders.

“I’m fine…fine…” I whispered. But I wasn’t. Not at all.

“Give her a minute,” Taylor said anxiously. “She just found out she got soul-napped. Or halfway soul-napped anyway. Is that what you’d call it?”

“I don’t know what you call it when you find out a demon who says he loves you steals half your soul.” Addison sounded grim.

“Well, at least we know he stole it for your own good, don’t we?” Taylor asked me. “I mean, so he could close that door for you and you wouldn’t have to go too near that awful pit yourself?” She shivered and I knew she was remembering the Abyss—she had nearly slipped into it before I could pull her back to the Mortal Realm.

“It’s not that,” I said. “If it was only that I wouldn’t feel so…so…” But I didn’t even know how I felt myself. A memory had just popped into my head—one I’d either forgotten or tried to suppress. It was the brief vision I’d had when Laish and I were making love—the golden cord that was tied around my heart which had, as he finished in me, also tied around his. Suddenly my grandmother’s voice came back to me.

“I knew when I met your grandpa, you know. I knew he was the one I’d been waiting for. And on our wedding night, when I finally gave myself to him…it was like a golden cord, binding us together.”

“Oh my Goddess,” I whispered. “Oh my Goddess.”

“What? What is it?” Taylor was up now too and both she and Addison were bending over me, worried looks on their faces.

“I have to call Laish,” I said thickly. “I have to summon him right now and find out if…if what I think happened really happened.”

“What do you think happened?” Taylor asked. “Is it really bad?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I won’t know anything until I talk to him.”

“Should we go?” Addison asked practically. “I’m guessing this is going to be a private conversation.”

“Yes, I’m really sorry but you’re right. I need to do this alone.”

“Is it safe?” Taylor bit her lip, looking worried. “You won’t be putting yourself into danger, will you Gwendolyn?”

“No danger,” I assured them. “I just need to get answers.” Taking a deep breath, I got up and smoothed down my skirt. “Thank you so much for coming over. I promise I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I get this all figured out.”

“Well, all right.” Addison and Taylor began getting their purses and getting ready to go. “But if you need us, call us. I mean it—anytime,” Addison said.

“Thanks.” Impulsively, I hugged them both. They hugged back, returning my gesture of affection warmly. When I pulled out of the three-way embrace, I found my eyes were wet. “You guys are good friends,” I said. “Thank you for being there for me.”

“Well, we supernatural chicks have to stick together, right?” Addison grinned at me.

“Right,” Taylor chimed in. “It’s not like we can meet other people like us by joining a book club or anything.”

“You’re right about that.” I swiped at my eyes and laughed. “Okay, I need to go do this summoning now. Before Grams and Keisha get back.” My Grandmother had taken my little sister to a doctor’s appointment and they were due back in the next hour.

“Got it. We’ll get out of your hair.” Addison smiled at me again. “Just remember—call as soon as you can. Taylor and I will be on pins and needles waiting to find out what’s going on.”

“I will,” I promised.

“Oh, and while you’re at it, see if you can find out what happened to that angel girl you rescued,” Taylor said. “I know you said the magic sent her someplace safe but I can’t help feeling worried for the poor thing. I hope she’s okay.”

“I hope Eryn’s all right too,” I said earnestly. “And I promise I’ll try to get some answers about her when I talk to Laish.”

“After you get your own answers,” Addison said.

“Exactly,” I said, grimly. “For right now I need to get his demon-ass on the line and find out what the Hell is going on.”

I just hoped he would answer my call.

* * * * *

Laish

“Mon ange, how very nice to see you again.” I smiled at my little witch, speaking through the magic fire she’d used to call me to her.

“I need to talk to you.” I could see her frowning through the flames but I knew she couldn’t see me. “Where are you, Laish? Why aren’t you answering my summons?”

“I am answering your summons,” I said patiently. “I simply cannot come to you as easily as I once could for…various reasons.”

“Well, I really need to talk to you. Face to face.” She was frowning and she had one hand planted on her lush, rounded hip. “Now.”

“If you want to see my face one of us must come to the other,” I told her.

“What? Why?” she demanded.

“I will explain it later. When I see you,” I said. “Now, would you rather that I come to you and meet you at your grandmother’s house or do you wish to come to me?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know if having you here is a good idea. Grams is glad I came back safe but I still don’t think you’re on her list of favorite people.”

“Understandable,” I said evenly. “After all, I did take her granddaughter’s innocence.”

“Um…” Gwendolyn looked uncomfortable. “She doesn’t know about that. I didn’t tell her.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Why, Gwendolyn—have you been lying to her?”

“No,” she said defensively. “She didn’t ask and I didn’t tell. We’ve just been sort of…skirting around the issue.”

“Technically, she never needs to know, I suppose,” I remarked. “After all, it’s not as though your powers have lessened any as a result, have they?”

Her eyes narrowed. “See, that’s one of the things I want to talk to you about. Along with the fact that you were able to close that door to the Abyss and use the thrak to kill Druaga.”

I spread my hands though I knew she couldn’t see me.

“If you do not wish to meet at your grandmother’s house, perhaps you could come to me.”

“That depends. Where are you?”

I gave her the address of my estate on Siesta Key. “It is just outside of Sarasota,” I said. “To get here…”

“I’ll just use the Maps ap on my phone—I can find it,” she said. “All right, I should be there in an hour or so. But I still don’t understand why you can’t just appear so we can talk.”

“All will be made clear in time,” I promised her. “And I am glad you are coming to visit me—I have an old friend staying at my place I think you will be glad to see.”

“Who?” she demanded. “What old friend?”

“You’ll find out. I will see you soon, mon ange. Please drive carefully.”

I ended our connection and took a deep breath. I had been anticipating Gwendolyn’s call since the moment we parted. Though time is usually fleeting for one like me, who has lived so many eons, the days had seemed to drag on and on as I waited to hear from her. I both longed to see her sweet face again and dreaded what it would mean when I did.

For I knew by the tone of her voice and the fire in her eyes that she finally understood what I had done to her. The depth of my betrayal had finally become clear.

Which meant this meeting could very well be our last.

Chapter Thirty-six

Gwendolyn

The drive from Tampa to Sarasota isn’t too bad as long as traffic is light. Luckily it was a weekend so even though I was leaving around six o’clock, I had smooth sailing all the way. I left a note for Grams, of course, telling her I was going to a friend’s house. I hoped she’d think that I went to visit with Taylor or Addison—I knew she’d be really unhappy if she knew I was going to see Laish. All she’d talked about this whole past week was what a narrow escape I’d had and how I was “well-shut” of that demon. Though I’d explained how he had saved my life multiple times, Grams just couldn’t bring herself to like him. Not that I think she was trying very hard.

By the time I was pulling into the long, curving drive which was graveled with broken white sea shells instead of pebbles, the sun was almost setting. There was a big, scrolled gate at the end of the drive but it opened automatically for me before I could even reach for the call box. Apparently Laish was watching for my arrival.

I drove my little car up to a vast stone mansion, perched on the edge of the beach and surrounded on all sides by lush, tropical growth. It looked like a giant seashell itself, painted as it was with the pink and orange light of the setting sun.

“Wow…” I muttered. Even knowing what Laish was, I couldn’t help feeling a little intimidated by this display of wealth. The house looked like the kind of thing that took an army of servants to keep up and its location was just perfect.

I got out of the car, my shoes crunching on the white shells. I don’t know what made me do it but I was wearing my little black ballet flats again—the ones I’d worn through my entire journey through Hell. They were a little worse for the wear but they still fit just right and felt more comfortable than anything else I owned.

In addition to my flats, I had on a long, white sun dress I’d bought for the beach but never gotten around to wearing it before. It had thin spaghetti straps and a slit that went up to my knees, making it easy to walk though the soft cotton fabric fell to my ankles.

I don’t know what made me dress in white, which I knew was Laish’s favorite color on me. I told myself I’d just thrown on the first thing in the closet but if I was honest with myself, that wasn’t true. I wanted to look good for this meeting. I wasn’t sure what it might mean in the end or how Laish really felt about me but I wanted to know I looked good while I was trying to get some answers. Feeling pretty makes me more confident—silly, I know but I can’t help it.

I was about to go up the broad front steps—there were about fifteen of them, since the huge mansion was built high, probably because it was so close to the sea—when I heard a voice call my name.

“Gwendolyn? Around here.”

It was Laish and he was beckoning me from the side of the house. He was dressed much more casually than I’d ever remembered seeing him before, in a deep blue button down shirt and tan trousers. The shirt’s sleeves were rolled up to show his muscular forearms and the front was unbuttoned and hanging loose, giving me a glimpse of his mouthwatering chest. The trousers were rolled up too and he was barefoot, as though he’s just been walking along the beach.

“Laish?” I came towards him uncertainly, crunching over the shells until I reached a paved path that ran from the side of the house all the way around to the back. “We need to talk,” I said as soon as I reached him.

“In a moment. For now, come—I have someone who’s eager to see you.” He smiled at me and held out a hand. “Oh, and you can leave your shoes here. You’ll just get sand in them otherwise.”

Reluctantly, I slipped out of my black flats and left them lined up neatly on the path. Then, ignoring Laish’s outstretched hand, I started off down the path around the back of the house.

He followed me, noiseless in his bare feet, but I could feel his presence like a huge shadow looming just over my shoulder. I wondered if he was upset that I had refused to hold his hand. But I wanted to get things straightened out between us before I let myself touch him in any way. It was much harder to think, somehow, when he held me in those muscular arms. I needed to keep my distance until I figured out what was what.

When we finally got around the back of the house and I stepped from the paved path into the warm sand, I was blown away by the view. In fact, for a moment I had to just stop and stare.

“Wow,” I breathed, looking out at the beautiful beach with its pristine white sand stretching down to the deep blue ocean.

The sun was sinking into the water, casting long shadows and painting the white sand in gorgeous pinks and purples and oranges. High above, I could hear the seagulls crying and there was a cool, salty wind swirling around me, tugging at my hair and the hem of my dress.

It looked like a scene out of a tourist brochure for Florida—breathtakingly gorgeous and impossibly perfect. And then it got even better.

Off to my left I heard a ringing neigh and then Kurex came galloping towards me, his dinner plate-sized hooves pounding over the sand.

“Oh, Kurex!” I ran to meet him, tears of joy stinging my eyes.

He made a soft nh-huh-huh-huh sound as he dropped his immense head on my shoulder. I put my arms as far around his massive neck as I could and hugged him.

“It’s so good to see you again, boy,” I told him, pressing my face to his neck as his long, silky black mane whipped around me. “I thought you were back with your old master.”

“I liberated him from Yerx. I thought he would be happier living here with me than back in the Infernal Realm,” Laish remarked, coming up behind me.

I turned to face him.

“Wait a minute—you live here now? Or is this just like a, kind of summer home—a place to stay when you visit the Mortal Realm?”

“It used to be,” he said quietly. “But for now it is my home—at least temporarily while I make some important decisions.”

“What decisions? And what’s going to happen to Kurex?” I asked as the big horse nuzzled me once more and then trotted off to investigate some tasty sea grass growing out of the sand.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Is that really what you want to ask me? Why you drove all the way down here to speak to me face-to-face, Gwendolyn?”

“No.” I took a deep breath and decided to just come out with it. “Did you take half my soul?”

He nodded gravely. “I did. And you have every right to be angry with me about it.”

“But…you did it so you could shut the door into the Abyss. So I wouldn’t have to do it myself—right?” I looked up at him hopefully.

He nodded again. “I did.”

“Well if you knew that was possible in the first place, why did we have to go through all that? Why drag me down to Hell and make me go through all seven circles if you could have just asked for a piece of my soul in the first place and gone and closed the door yourself?”

“Think about it, Gwendolyn,” he said gently. “The only ways to get part of a mortal’s soul is by using a soul hook or…”

“Or by making love,” I said, looking down at the sand.

“Exactly. And how would you have reacted if I had suggested either option to you at the beginning of our little adventure?”

“I would have told you to fuck off,” I said bluntly. “I would have thought it was a trick—just a way to get me to sleep with you.”

“Exactly,” Laish said again. “I needed you to travel with me and grow to trust me. Trust me enough that you would have no suspicion of the way I planned to betray you.”

“Betray me?” I asked, looking up at him. “You mean by taking my virginity completely when the barrier was already broken and the tax had already been paid?”

He nodded. “Regretfully, the theft of a soul—even of only half a soul—requires a betrayal. If it is given freely, the deception is not necessary. But since I knew that was not an option—”

“How did you know?” I demanded, glaring at him. “Why didn’t you at least ask me? I trusted you, Laish—I would have listened. By the end of our time in Hell I would have done just about anything you said.” I hated to admit that but it was the truth.

“You would have listened if you had felt the same way about me that I feel about you,” he murmured. “But I knew you did not.”

“What? Because I didn’t feel ready to say ‘I love you’ yet?” I asked. “I mean, that’s a lot to ask when we’d only been traveling together a few days!”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t your inability to speak the words that made me certain you did not return my feelings, mon ange. It was the fact that the Mirror of the Eye did not show you my image when you looked into it.”

“But…but I…” I closed my eyes, remembering when he had asked if I had seen him in the magic mirror which showed the person you cared for or loved the most. He had made me look in it with him and he had seen me. But though I had, in fact, seen him the second time I looked, I had lied and said I didn’t.

Why did it do that? Why did I lie?

I knew the answer. It was because admitting the feelings that were growing for him inside made me feel vulnerable—exposed. Not to mention really damn frightened.

“What? What is it, mon ange?” Laish had obviously picked up on my distress though, surprisingly, he hadn’t read my thoughts.

“It…it did show me your image,” I said in a low voice. “I just didn’t want to tell you because it made me feel weak and scared. I…I didn’t know if I wanted to have feelings for you.”

“But you did?” He laughed, a little sadly I thought. “Ah, if only I had known. But it is too late—my betrayal is complete now.”

I took a deep breath and looked up at him.

“What—you mean the way you took my virginity? Or the way you formed a soul bond with me without telling me?”

Laish nodded thoughtfully, clearly unsurprised.

“I knew you would find out eventually. Especially once you realized I had stolen half of your soul.”

“I should have figured it out sooner,” I said evenly. “Considering that instead of having only half my power I now have enough for a whole coven of witches.”

“Do you really?” He looked interested. “I thought as much when I saw you use that word of power on Druaga. Most impressive, my little witch.”

“I wasn’t trying to impress anyone—I was trying not to get raped,” I said evenly, trying to suppress the sick feeling in my stomach the memory brought up.

“I am sorry I didn’t come to your aid sooner,” he said seriously. “I came as fast as I could—as fast as the Creator would allow.”

“What?” I frowned at him. “Do you mean you met God? Uh—the Creator?”

He nodded. “Remember when you said you thought I was dead and I told you that I was for a time? Well, I was. I did not survive my fall into the Abyss.”

“You didn’t? You died?” I could scarcely believe it. “So then, what happened? How did you come back?”

Laish sighed. “It is a long story. Why don’t we sit and I will tell you. Here…” He led me over to where a small blanket had been spread on the sand which was rapidly cooling now that the sun was almost gone. In the lengthening shadows, I saw his eyes were glowing deep red as he looked at me.

We settled on the blanket and I wiggled a little, trying to get the sand under me to conform to a more comfortable shape. At last when I was ready, I looked up at him again.

“All right—tell me.”

“When I was dragged down into the Abyss the Ancient Ones took what they wanted of me.” He drew in a deep breath. “To put it bluntly, they tore me limb from limb.”

“Oh, Laish!” I felt tears rise in my eyes and tried to blink them back. That was exactly the kind of thing I’d been afraid had happened to him, back when I’d been sure he was dead. To hear that he had actually suffered just as much as I’d been afraid he was suffering made me feel awful. Especially since he had basically sacrificed himself to keep those horrible, seeking tentacles from grabbing me.

“It’s all right,” he murmured, cupping my cheek and brushing away a tear with his thumb. “Because thanks to your soul, I did not immediately revert to the Lake of Fire. Instead, I was drawn up to Heaven, to stand before the Judgment Throne. There I came face-to-face with the Creator for the first time since my fall.”

“You did?” I stared at him. “And then what happened?”

Laish shrugged. “He asked me if I had finally found what I left Heaven to search for. He asked if I had finally found love.”

“And you told him…?”

Laish smiled sadly. “I told him that I had, though I scarcely recognized it at first. I had been lost for so many eons I had forgotten why I left my post in Heaven in the first place.”

“Eryn said it was because you wanted to be able to love the way mortals were allowed to,” I said. “Is that right?

He frowned. “Eryn, your pet moth?”

“Who turned out to be an angel. You mean you didn’t know about that?”

He shrugged. “I came in at the last minute, as you recall—barely in the nick of time. My negotiations with the Creator took some time.”

“God negotiated with you?” I could hardly believe it.

“Not really—the Almighty does not actually negotiate. But he did give me a choice.”

“Which was?”

Laish looked down at the sand covering our toes.

“He told me I can return to Hell and live as I have been for so long. If I do, I will retain my powers and status in the hierarchy of the Infernal Realm as well as my ability to change forms. But I will be only a demon with no soul and no hope of redemption. Or…”

“Or what?” I asked, unable to hide the curiosity and eagerness in my voice.

“Or I could retain my soul—the final shred that is left, anyway, after using the thrak on both the Ancient Ones and Druaga—and give up most of my powers to live a mortal life.”

“A mortal life? You mean, like a normal life span?” I asked. “Like seventy or eighty years instead of seventy or eighty million? Or billion—or whatever?”

He gave one of his deep, soft laughs.

“My life will be more like a thousand or so years, I believe. I will need some time to make up for all the harm I did as a demon.”

“But still…even a thousand years is a drop in the bucket when you consider how long you’d live as a demon,” I pointed out.

He smiled sadly. “My darling, if only you knew how the years can drag when you have no one to live for—no one to share them with. And the Creator has promised that after my life span is up, I can be judged as a mortal and pass into Heaven as one as well.”

“So you’re considering it?” I asked. “What about your powers?”

He shrugged. “Gone. Well, most of them anyway. I still retain some of my smaller abilities.” With a wave of his hand he made two wine glasses half filled with ruby red liquid appear and handed me one.

I took a sip.

“What about your different forms? I know you gave up your dragon form during the fight with the Skitterlings. But what about your true form?”

He spread his hands. “Gone. This is my true form now—as it will be permanently if I choose to take the Creator’s offer.”

“Really?” I stared at him. “And you’re okay with that? With leaving Hell where you’re a Prince of Night and Shadows and have legions of demons to command and coming to the Mortal Realm where you’re just plain Laish with uh, no demons to command?”

“I didn’t leave Heaven in the first place because I wanted to rule and command,” he said mildly. “That was Lucifer’s sin. I left with him because I wanted our kind to be allowed to love and bond together as the mortals do. I left seeking love…and then I found you, Gwendolyn.”

I looked away. “You only think you love me. The Eternal Flame—remember?”

“Is that what you think?” I could see him frowning from the corner of my eye.

“Well, that’s what Belial said,” I pointed out. “And you said yourself you didn’t know why you loved me.”

“It was because I had been without a soul for so long that I forgot I could love,” Laish said quietly. “At first I did not even recognize the feeling inside that I had for you. I knew only that I wanted to protect you, to be with you and care for you. I didn’t understand why until I stood before the throne of the Creator and looked into his eyes.”

“How did that help?” I asked.

“Because God is love,” Laish said earnestly. “Seeing him reminded me of the small part within me that was still uncorrupted. The part that can love deeply and unconditionally. The part that drew me to you in the first place.”

“But the Eternal Flame—”

“The effects of the Eternal Flame only work on creatures that have originated in Hell. I was once a creature of Heaven. And can be again, if I agree to the Creator’s plan.”

“What’s stopping you, then?” I said softly. I was almost afraid to look at him as I asked, wondering what he might say next.

Laish sighed. “What stops me is the fact that I do not wish to stay in the Mortal Realm by myself, without you. Yet I know you cannot love me back. Not after the way I betrayed you—first in stealing half your soul and then in forming a soul bond with you without asking your leave. It is…unforgivable.”

“It would have been nice if you’d asked,” I admitted. “I mean, I didn’t even know such a thing was possible. But…I guess maybe you would have told me if I hadn’t lied to you about seeing your face in the Mirror of the Eye.”

Laish made our wine glasses disappear and took my hand in his. “I have tied you to me in a very intimate way, Gwendolyn. And I did it without so much as a ‘by-your-leave,’” he said, looking at me earnestly. “Not only that, I did it using your own soul which I had stolen and attached to myself to do it. How can you possibly forgive me for that?”

“Like this,” I said and kissed him.

At first Laish was frozen in place and I felt like I was kissing a statue. Then he put his arms around me and kissed me back, making me shiver with desire. He ran his hands through my hair and pulled me close until I could feel his big, hard body pressing against every inch of mine. The kiss became hungry…breathless… But before it could go too far, he pulled back and looked at me, holding my eyes with his own.

“Gwendolyn, are you certain? You can truly forgive what I did? You feel for me as I feel for you?”

“I do,” I whispered. “I know Grams won’t like it but I can’t help it, Laish. I love you. I don’t think I realized it until after I thought you were gone. But once I knew how I felt, I couldn’t change it.” I squeezed his hand and my voice got tight and choked. “It was awful—seeing you slip into the Abyss that way. All I could think about was how much I missed you.” My eyes were stinging with tears but I tried to blink them away.

“I’m here now.” Laish tilted my chin up so he could press his lips to my wet eyelids very gently, kissing the tears away.

“I know.” I gave him a trembling smile. “So I guess we’ve got a second chance. I don’t want to waste it.”

“Mon ange…” He stroked my cheek and in the twilight dimness I saw his eyes burning ruby red. “I love you, too,” he murmured. “So very much. And now you have given me a reason to stay here—my choice is made.”

“Laish!” I looked at him uncertainly, feeling a little afraid. Because the ruby red light burning in his eyes had suddenly been extinguished. It was hard to tell in the deepening twilight but I thought his eyes were normal now—just a beautiful but very human deep blue. Much like the ocean that was rushing over the sand just a few yards away from us.

“What is it?” He looked at me, scanning my face. “What’s wrong, Gwendolyn?”

“Your eyes…” I cupped his strong jaw, looking at him worriedly. “They’re not red anymore.”

He laughed. “Because I have given up my demonic nature.”

“What—all of it?” I demanded.

A devilish little grin twisted the corner of his mouth and I thought I saw just the tiniest spark of red in his eyes. “Well, almost all, mon ange. Though there might still be a little left. Let us find out, shall we?”

And then he pulled me down onto the blanket with him and kissed me until I couldn’t see straight.

I gave myself to him willingly—eagerly, loving the feel of his big, warm hands stripping away my dress…his muscular body pressing against mine…the feel of his hot mouth caressing my breasts and sucking my nipples. Then he was finding his way down my trembling belly to the place between my thighs.

“May I, Gwendolyn?” he asked softly, hooking his fingers in the sides of my little white bikini panties.

“Yes.” I lifted my hips to help him, eager for his touch…for the feel of his lips and tongue between my legs.

“Gods, mon ange,” he groaned softly, settling between my thighs and rubbing his cheek against my pussy. “Your scent is intoxicating. Never thought I’d get to taste you again.”

“You thought wrong,” I whispered breathlessly. “Do it, Laish—don’t make me wait. I want you to.”

“And I want you…my angel.” He looked up at me and once more I thought I saw just a tiny spark of red in those dark blue eyes. Then he bent his head and pressed a long, sweet kiss to my pussy, parting me with his lips and laving my aching clit with his hot tongue until I moaned. Sparks of electricity ran through every nerve in my body, making me feel alive for the first time in forever.

“Laish…oh Goddess, Laish…”

The sun had finally set as I moaned his name, bucking up to meet him, giving myself shamelessly and with absolutely no reservation. This was good, this was right and I knew it to the bottom of my heart.

Laish wrapped his arms around my thighs, spreading me wide, pressing deep to fill me with his tongue and then pulling back to lap my aching little button until I gasped and writhed against him. It hadn’t been so long since we’d been together—I knew that cognitively. But emotionally, it felt like forever since I’d given myself to him. And this time I knew without the shadow of a doubt that it was right for us to be together, which made everything so much better.

It was so good, in fact, that I was already close to coming. But I didn’t want to come like this—I wanted more.

“Laish,” I gasped, tugging at his thick black hair. “Laish, wait.”

“What is it, mon ange?” He looked up at me, his mouth wet with my juices. “I want to feel you coming against my tongue,” he murmured. “Want to lap your sweet pussy until you come all over my face.”

His hot words made me shiver with desire but I wanted more than just his tongue inside me.

“I want you.” I tugged at him again. “In me—now.”

A slight smile quirked the corner of his mouth.

“As my lady wishes,” he murmured and then he was on top of me, his big, warm body pressed against mine, his dark, spicy scent filling my senses.

“Laish…” I murmured, reaching between us to grasp his thick, hard length. Just at that moment I wanted him so much I could barely breathe. No, not just wanted—needed. “I can’t stand it,” I gasped as I fitted the broad head of his shaft to my entrance. “I need you inside me—need to feel you filling me up! Now.”

“That would be the soul bond between us yearning to be renewed,” he murmured, stroking my cheek. “I feel the same—a deep need to be inside you, to be joined with you once more.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” I tilted my hips up, trying to get him inside me, wanting that hot, hard length filling me, taking me, making me his.

“Gwendolyn…” He breathed my name like a prayer and then lowered himself, filling me slowly but completely, penetrating me inch by thick inch, stretching me open and binding us together once again.

I wrapped my arms and legs around him and pulled him down for a kiss, loving the taste of my own secret flavor on his lips. He moved inside me, long, smooth strokes that made me gasp and arch my back, finding his rhythm and matching it with one of my own.

“Oh Goddess, Laish,” I whispered in his ear when I finally broke the kiss. “I love you…love you so damn much.”

“Darling,” he whispered and pressed even deeper inside me. “I love you too. I never stopped.”

I felt the pleasure that had been building inside me start to spill over, bathing my entire body in a warm, delicious glow. I was coming—coming harder than I ever had and I could feel my inner walls quiver and tremble with the force of my orgasm, urging Laish to give in and come with me—to fill me with himself again.

With a low groan, he allowed my orgasm to trigger his own. This time when I felt the hot spurts of his seed inside me I welcomed it, knowing it was tying us even closer together, forming a bond that could never be broken.

“Laish!” I moaned, bucking up to meet him, to take him even deeper. “Yes, fill me—take me all the way. Make me yours.”

“Always,” he murmured in my ear. “Always and forever you are mine and I am yours, mon ange.”

The deep sound of his voice and the feeling of him filling me brought on another, stronger orgasm that made me throw back my head and moan. I was helpless in his arms, unable to do anything but open myself to him and all he had to give and it was perfect. Utterly, completely perfect.

As I cried my pleasure to the stars above, I knew that I was with the man I had always been meant for—the man who had always been meant for me. Somehow Laish and I had been made for each other, even though he’d had to wait an eternity to find me and I had spent a long, lonely time doubting before I finally let myself love him.

Though we’d had a long and difficult road through Hell itself, we had finally emerged from the shadows together and we would never be apart again.

Epilogue

“So you and Laish are as cozy as two peas in a pod but what about Eryn?” Taylor asked, settling herself on my couch with a jar of Grams’ homemade dill pickles.

I say “my couch” but it was actually a plush leather sectional in one of the many sitting areas in Laish’s Siesta Key mansion. Taylor had brought the pickles herself with a message from Grams who still wasn’t talking to me.

“Come home,” read the note attached to the jar. Taylor had given it to me before opening the pickles and selecting a big green one to crunch on.

I sighed when I read it—Grams was still having a hard time understanding how I could forgive Laish for stealing half my soul and using it to bond me to him. She thought I was under some kind of spell. I was pretty sure she’d come around eventually but for now, I was living with Laish and giving her a little time to adjust to the new status quo. Still, her note made me sad. I wished she could just be happy for me and understand that I really did love my man and he loved me back.

“Eryn?” Addison said, breaking my train of thought. “You know—the angel you told us about?”

“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. “I did a spell to try and find her but I came up blank. It was almost like…”

“Like what?” Taylor asked.

“Like someone is hiding her somehow,” I said, frowning as I folded and unfolded Gram’s note. “Like there’s some kind of very strong magic shielding her from anyone who might be looking for her.”

“Maybe it was the protection spell you worked on her?” Addison suggested. “The one that sent her into this world in the first place?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. This magic had a very distinctive signature to it. And, well…it was familiar too.”

“Familiar?” Addison’s eyebrows went up. “Where had you seen it or felt it or whatever it is you do, before?”

“Unfortunately it was back when I was working on that spelled trap that Taylor gave me—you know, the one that was found on Victor’s land?”

“The one that nearly bit his poor paw off!” Taylor said indignantly. “He’s still got a scar from that on his wrist. Are you telling me that the same magic that made that trap is what’s shielding Eryn right now?”

“I’m afraid so.” I shifted uncomfortably on the leather sectional.

“So you’re saying that your spell sent a sweet, innocent angel to him? To the man who was helping that bitch Celeste try to drain all of Taylor’s blood and powers?” Addison demanded.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” I exclaimed, jumping up and starting to pace across the expensive Persian rug. Everything in this house was expensive but Laish seemed to take it as a matter of course. Apparently though he had given up his status and standing in Hell, he’d retained quite a bit of wealth to keep us comfortable in the Mortal Realm.

“Well it was your spell that sent her,” Addison pointed out.

“I know, I know…” I ran a hand through my hair. “You know, I should have known it was Shadowlock. The Mirror of the Eye showed me him right after it showed me Eryn.”

“You’re sure it was him?” Taylor asked. “I mean, you couldn’t have gotten a very good look at him that night—everything was such a mess.”

“It was him all right,” I said grimly. “I’d know him anywhere—I couldn’t make out his face.”

“I couldn’t either even though I was riding in a car not three feet from him part of the time after Celeste kidnapped me,” Taylor said. “How does he do that? Is it some kind of spell?”

I nodded. “An obstruction spell. It’s usually used to keep someone from being able to read documents or books that are off limits. But I’ve never seen anyone use one on their face before.”

“Why is he doing it?” Addison murmured. “What is he hiding?”

“Maybe he’s a criminal who escaped from jail and doesn’t want to be caught and brought back?” Taylor guessed.

“Or maybe he’s a well respected businessman and he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s a warlock on the side,” Addison said thoughtfully. “Whatever the reason, that poor little angel!”

“She wasn’t that little, actually,” I said, remembering Eryn’s lush, plus-sized figure. “She was shaped kind of like an hourglass, a very full hourglass. Not very angelic—or not what we expect to be angelic, I mean. I always thought angels were supposed to be these slender, sexless creatures. But Eryn didn’t look like that at all.”

“She doesn’t sound like the typical angel,” Taylor said. “But then again, who knows what the typical angel looks like? Well, I mean apart from you, Gwendolyn—since you’re with an ex-fallen angel.”

“Eryn might not have been a skinny-minny but she was very pretty.” I sighed. “I just hoped Shadowlock isn’t abusing her in some way.”

“I thought you said the spell was to protect the innocent,” Addison said. “Surely it wouldn’t send her to someone who would hurt or molest her? Would it?”

“I hope not.” I couldn’t help the stirring of unease inside me. “I just wish it would have sent her to someone else—someone we know is a good guy.”

“I don’t know.” Taylor sounded thoughtful. “How do we know he’s such a bad guy?”

“Taylor, how can you say that?” Addison sounded shocked. “I mean, that jerk tried to kill you.”

“No, Celeste tried to kill me. She just hired Shadowlock to help with the magic part of it,” Taylor said firmly. “And he really didn’t like her—he told her off to her face. I got the feeling it was just a business transaction to him—so maybe he’s not such a bad guy after all.”

“You don’t understand,” I said in a low voice. “Witches and warlocks are both born with their powers. With witches, they manifest with puberty. But with warlocks…”

“With warlocks what?” Addison urged.

I sighed. “With warlocks, their powers are latent. And they stay that way until they do something to release them.”

“And by something you mean…what?” Taylor looked apprehensive.

I ran a hand through my hair.

“They have to do a sacrifice, all right? A human sacrifice. Witches call it ‘killing the hornless goat.’ Without that, their power can never come out.”

“Oh my…” Taylor put a hand to her mouth. “I remember him saying something like that when Celeste was talking about killing me—he said he’d killed the hornless goat more times than he could count. I didn’t get it then but now…”

“Now we do.” Addison looked at me. “We already knew that he practiced dark magic. And on top of that he’s a murderer—probably many times over.”

“Probably.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Goddess, I just can’t understand why the spell would have sent Eryn to him.”

“Maybe because she is in need of a very strong protector indeed.” Laish came into the room, carrying a tray with a bottle of expensive wine and some glasses, one of which was filled with juice for the pregnant Taylor. “Forgive me, mon ange,” he said as he handed around the glasses. “I hope you do not mind me intruding on your conversation.”

“Not at all,” Addison answered for me, taking a glass of wine and smiling at him. “Anyone who comes bearing wine is all right in my book.”

“And it was so thoughtful of you to remember I can only have juice.” Taylor smiled and took a sip of her OJ. “But what did you mean that Eryn needs a strong protector? I thought the demon who captured her and wanted her back—that Dru..Dri…”

“Druaga,” I told her.

“Right—the pig-headed one. I thought he was dead?” Taylor asked.

Laish sighed. “He is. Unfortunately, certain events have come to light that make it clear he was not the only threat to the little angel’s safety.”

“What? What do you mean?” I’d been about to take a sip of the wonderful smelling wine but now I put down my glass, disturbed. “I thought Eryn was safe now that she’s out of Hell.”

“I wish I could say that she was.” Laish shook his head. “But I have been speaking to a contact in the Infernal Realm. Apparently, Druaga wasn’t holding Eryn for his own purposes. He had been contracted to capture and hold her for a much more powerful entity—a demon called Azaezal.”

“Azaezal?” I frowned. “I don’t remember you mentioning him.”

“That is because it is not wise to speak his name aloud in the Infernal Realm lest you wish him to appear and rend you limb from limb,” Laish said grimly. “Azaezal is the overlord of the Abyss. His power eclipses even my own—or the power I had before I gave it up to stay here in the Mortal Realm.”

“That doesn’t sound good. At all.” Addison said, frowning.

“It is not.” Laish frowned. “Azaezal is the strongest of Hell’s overlords, save Lucifer himself. He even has dominion over the Ancient Ones who live in the Abyss.” He looked at me seriously. “We were very lucky that he wasn’t there when we were closing the door you opened into his realm, mon ange.”

“But what does he want with Eryn?” I asked. “I mean, she’s gone from Hell now—beyond his reach. Wouldn’t you think he’d just try to capture another angel?”

“First of all, you must not assume that because Eryn is now in the Mortal Realm that she is beyond his reach,” Laish said, taking a sip of his own wine. “And secondly, if he wants Eryn, there must be something different about her—something special.”

“But what?” Addison asked.

Laish shrugged. “As to that, who can say? But it sounds to me as though Gwendolyn’s spell knew that the little angel would be in grave danger. It sent her to one of the only mortals in the world who might possibly be able to defend her from such a demonic threat.”

“Will we ever find out what became of her?” I asked. “Should I try to find Shadowlock and warn him? Do you think he’ll really protect her?”

“I think, mon ange, that if he is using such a strong spell to hide her, he is already aware of the threat and taking steps to combat it. As to protecting her, I do not believe your magic would have sent her to him otherwise.”

“But he’s a murderer,” Addison protested. “He’s evil.”

“So was I, before Gwendolyn gave me a reason to change,” Laish said quietly, taking my hand. “Perhaps Eryn may do the same for Shadowlock.”

“I hope so.” I said, squeezing his fingers. “I really do but poor Eryn…I just want her to be all right.”

“As to that, we will have to wait and see.” Laish squeezed my fingers back and leaned down to give me a small kiss. “There is nothing more to be done for the moment.”

Wait and see? I didn’t like the sound of that. I still wanted to find my angel friend and make sure the warlock was treating her right. Treating her right and respecting her boundaries. I couldn’t help thinking of how she’d shivered when I just touched her shoulder, where her wings had been hidden. Then I thought of how big and muscular he’d been when he appeared in the Mirror of the Eye.

Would Shadowlock treat her right? Would he protect her without hurting her? Was there a decent human being buried somewhere inside him, behind that mask of a spell that kept anyone from seeing his face?

I didn’t know but I hoped for Eryn’s sake there was. I really hoped so.

End

If you have enjoyed this book, please take a moment to leave a review for Ruby Shadows . Read on for a taste of Targeted, the next book in Evangeline's Brides of the Kindred series as well as a sneak peek at Cardinal Sins, the sequel to Ruby Shadows, coming soon in the Born to Darkness series.

Targeted, Brides of the Kindred 15, coming Summer of 2015

A warrior sworn to kill or die trying…

A woman going through a deadly transformation…

Can they reach safety together?

Or have both of them been Targeted for death?

Excerpt…

Tragar’s vehicle skidded to a halt in front of the little domicile shielded by the lush tropical vegetation. He’d been held up on a one way street by a slow, elderly driver he couldn’t get around which seemed to be a very common problem here in Emily’s part of Earth. Normally the delay wouldn’t have bothered him but by the time he finally got around the slow driver, he was nearly frantic with worry.

She’s just a target—it doesn’t matter what happens to her, he tried to tell himself. But he didn’t believe the lie for a moment. The knot of tension in his gut just kept growing every time he remembered the tears in her eyes and the way she had rushed away from her school. Not to mention the blond male who had been following her. Who was he, anyway? Tragar had been casing her school for days and had thought he knew all the instructors and support staff. But who was this bastard and why had he affected Emily so deeply?

Could it be another hunter? Another assassin out for her blood? The thought made him even more uneasy. When he had taken the job, the Dark Kindred named Two had hinted that he might not be the only one hunting Emily. Though Tragar had assured him he could take out one lone female—no matter how dangerous—with ease, he seemed the type to leave nothing to chance.

“I will give you ten solar days from the time you take the contract,” he’d told Tragar, those metal teeth of his gleaming. “No more. After that, others will be dispatched with the same goal as yours—to kill the girl. “I mean to see her dead, Verrak, and it must happen soon…”

Tragar tried to push back the disturbing memory. When he finally parked his vehicle and made his way quickly but silently up the lawn, staying well hidden in the large leafed plants, he saw what was clearly a bad situation happening right in front of Emily’s front doorway.

The male with the blond hair and pale eyes was advancing on Emily, speaking to her in a low, threatening tone. Tragar’s first instinct was to jump out of the bushes and knock the bastard flat with one punch or maybe even kill him outright with a single shot of his sonic rifle. Eliminating people other than the target during an operation wasn’t exactly forbidden by the Verrak but it was certainly strongly frowned upon. In this case, however, Tragar was more than willing to take whatever chastisement might come his way for killing the son of a bitch.

But something stopped him. It was a scent—a scent in the air he’d never smelled before and yet one he instinctively knew. One he would recognize anywhere though he would never have expected to smell it here on Earth, so far away from his home world of Rageron.

What in the Seven Hells?

He had to be wrong—there was no way. It couldn’t be. He sniffed the air and scented it again—was it really coming from Emily?

Hidden by the screen of vegetation, he breathed deeply and watched the scene in front of him unfold.

“It’s just…I’ve never forgotten that night we spent together,” the blond male said, taking a step towards Emily. Tragar could only see him from the side but he didn’t like the look on what he could see of the male’s face. It was greedy and lustful. “I’ve been with so many women since then but none of them could compare to you, my dear Emily.” His eyes gleamed. “You were so tight.”

Tragar felt a low growl rising in his throat but Emily’s reply left him mute.

“That’s because I was a virgin and you raped me you bastard!” she cried, glaring at the blond male. “I asked you to stop—I begged you to stop. But you wouldn’t!”

Every fiber of Tragar’s being howled in protest. Raped her? This fucking scum had dared to take her against her will? If she was what Tragar’s nose told him she was—what her scent proclaimed her to be—there could be no worse crime. To take any unwilling female was shameful and disgusting—the act of a coward who deserved nothing but death. But to take a Khalla—

Things were happening rapidly now. The male had her by the wrist and was squeezing hard. Tragar lifted his rifle to shoot—not to kill—that was too good for this bastard. He just wanted to wound him and he would finish the job later. Slowly. But then something else happened—something that confirmed his suspicions.

Emily ripped her wrist from the male’s grip and her eyes began to glow. They changed from the no-color blue they had been to a pure, fiery gold. And then she pounced.

Seven Hells! Tragar rushed forward but he wasn’t sure what to do. On one hand, it was her right to exact justice for the wrong which had been done her. Taking the maidenhood of a Khalla against her will was a sin punishable by torture and the most painful and prolonged death possible. But if he allowed her to kill this slimy male it would surely throw her body into complete Tenrah and shortly after that, the breeding heat would be upon her. At that point it would be either breed or die. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Stop!” Grabbing her by the back of her garment, he pulled her off the male as carefully as he could. He didn’t give a damn if it hurt her rapist but he didn’t want to damage her.

At first she fought him, trying to reach the male who had scrambled away, holding a hand to his bleeding throat and moaning.

“Emily!” Tragar took her by the shoulders and shook her as gently as he could but she kept struggling. He wished he knew her Kit’tara’s name—that would have gotten her attention—but the name of a Khalla’s hidden or second self was a secret known only to herself. He put his face into hers and tried to catch her eyes. “Emily,” he demanded. “Emily Barnes, see me!”

Finally she focused on him. Her eyes were still fiery gold and her ripe scent filled the air. When she spoke, her voice had a strange double echo.

“Who…who are you?” The golden eyes reflected his image back to him—tall and dark and menacing. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“Relax,” Tragar rumbled, trying to sound reassuring. Apparently he failed.

“Let me go!” She began to struggle again and this time her pure gold eyes were filled not with fury but with fear. “Let me go, I won’t let you!” She glanced at the blond male who was still moaning and nursing his wounds. “I won’t let you do it! I won’t go through it again—I won’t!”

Tragar felt his heart fist in his chest. Gods, she thought he was a rapist, no better than the bastard that had ripped her maidenhood from her and taken her against her will!

“I’m not what you think,” he said more roughly than he intended. “I didn’t come to rape you, Emily. I was sent to kill you.”

Cardinal Sins

Born to Darkness book 4

Coming Soon

Even angels have to get a little dirty sometimes…

Pure as the driven snow, Eyrn is an angel, captured from the fields of Heaven and held by an evil demon who plans to defile her. She escapes from Hell with the help of a friendly witch and a protection spell. But the magic backfires and she finds herself thrown literally into the lap of a man she has never met before.

Jake Shadowlock is a rancher in Southeast Texas—or at least that’s what he’d like to be. Unfortunately, ranching is expensive so he has to make ends meet in other ways—like by using his warlock powers for clients across the world who want dark magic done. Jake specializes is the most evil spells imaginable so he can’t understand why he has been chosen as Eyrn’s protector. After all, the little angel is sweet and good and pure—pretty much his exact opposite. How is he supposed to keep her safe from whatever is stalking her?

He doesn’t have long to find out. For Eryn is special among her kind—a unique angel with abilities no other celestial entity possesses. And there is a Prince of Night and Shadows stalking her, intent on dragging her back to Hell to despoil her purity and plunder her innocence.

Can Jake protect her from the Demon’s lust? And will Eryn be able to keep her purity, especially with all the new, strange feelings blossoming inside her for her grim and mysterious protector?

You’ll have to read Cardinal Sins to find out. Coming soon in the Born to Darkness series…

EXCERPT:

“That’s it girl, one more for the road before I go.” I pulled another shiny red apple out of my pocket and held it out to Jenny.

The pregnant mare snorted and lipped the apple out of my palm eagerly before messily crunching it in half. A good chunk flew wide and landed in the straw of her stable and she went for it at once, moving pretty fast despite how big she was getting.

I eyed her critically—she was going to drop that foal any time now. In the next week or so I’d have to start sleeping in the stable to be sure I was here in case she needed help. Maybe even tonight?

I put a hand on her rounded side and felt the foal push back against me. Little guy was eager to get out and about—he was probably feeling pretty cramped up inside his mamma right about now. But just feeling him wasn’t going to give me an idea.

Closing my eyes, I let myself go and reached out with my magic. Witches use a lot of paraphernalia and chanting and rites and rituals to do their magic. With warlocks, it’s different. We can do the rites and rituals and often as not I do them for clients who want things to look all officially magical. But they aren’t really necessary—not for someone who knows what he’s doing. And I did—after all, I’d been doing magic since the age of fourteen.

What my magic sense was telling me now was that the foal was still a good week off, at least. So I could relax and sleep in my own bed tonight.

Or at least I thought I was going to get to relax. Little did I know I was in for a surprise—a big feathery surprise. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I gave Jenny one last pat and went back to the house, whistling a little as I went. It had been a long day but a good one—filled with what my Granddaddy would have called “honest work.” Doing chores around the house… mending one of my barbed wire fences around the edge of my property—a forty acre ranch just north of Austin, Texas—mucking out the stables and making sure Jenny was settled well. All of it good, hard manual labor that makes a man sweat. And aside from checking on my pregnant mare just now, I hadn’t had to use my magic once. Like I said, a good day.

Inside I stripped off and got in the shower, letting the steaming water wash over my sore muscles. I wished I could end every day this way—I much preferred honest work to making a living with my magic. Unfortunately, ranching wasn’t very profitable unless you had a thousand head of cattle or you wanted to run one of those tourist orientated “dude ranches” that caters to idiots who want to come play cowboy for a week at a time. Either of those options required working with people—something I generally tried to avoid if I could help it.

Of course I dealt with people when I went out on a job—couldn’t help that. But I liked to keep my home private, which is something I couldn’t do if I had to keep a bunch of ranch hands to run cattle or a staff to cater to whiney tourists. And since the ranch wouldn’t pay for itself, magic was my only option.

You’d think I’d be glad to use my gifts to make a living but you’d be wrong. It hadn’t used to bother me but lately I’d been rethinking things a little. The last job I had taken, down in Tampa, Florida, had been a bad one. It involved working for a Three Star Vampire who wanted me to help sacrifice another vampire in order to steal her powers.

I didn’t think the job would bother me. After all, I’d had to do some dark things in my day. Not only that but I’d gained a certain reputation for doing them well and thoroughly. It also didn’t hurt that I was the strongest warlock in the southern US—maybe the entire US, depending on what you wanted done. My reputation drew clients like honey draws flies and some of them were willing to pay a hell of a lot—like the vampire I mentioned—Celeste was her name.

Anyway, Celeste wanted to drain the blood and power from one of the vamps she’d spawned which sounded like a pretty straightforward deal to me. Of course, she hadn’t told me that the vamp she was looking to drain was a female. I don’t take jobs that involve hurting women—for personal reasons. By the time I found out who the victim was, it was too late to back out and I was bound by the magical contract we had signed. I tried to get out of it early but Celeste was having none of it. Still, I figured one vamp killing another was no big deal. Hell, it’s like one snake swallowing another, or one spider draining another one dry, right? The bloodsuckers are vermin—who the hell cares what they do?

But I found myself feeling sorry for the victim—a pretty little gal by the name of Taylor. She wasn’t your usual vamp, all hard, cold corners and nasty sharp edges. She seemed like a pretty decent person which made what I had to do even harder.

Plus my client, Celeste, was a real bitch and I’m not saying that to be sexist. I mean she was a piece of work—a cold as ice and cruel as they come. You pull up a rock and look under it and you’d find nicer critters crawling there in the mud—she was that bad. I couldn’t say I was sorry when the spell went south and she wound up getting ripped apart by a cursed werewolf.

I still wondered about Taylor, though. The last I’d see there was a witch—one of the strongest I’d ever felt—working on her and trying to bring her back. Whether she succeeded or not, I wasn’t sure but she’d been damn foolish to try what she had—opening a door into the Abyss. That part of the Underworld or Hell, as most people call it, is a place that goes beyond dark and into pretty damn scary. I couldn’t help thinking at the time that the witch, whoever she was, must have cared a hell of a lot for Taylor to try something so risky to bring her back.

I tried and tried to put the whole experience out of my head but the job continued to bother me. I couldn’t stop thinking about the part I’d played and thinking that my Nana—who was a full fledged witch—would have been ashamed of me for playing it.

Should have checked it more carefully before I agreed. Should never have taken a job from a vamp in the first place. I normally avoid vamps like a plague but this one had offered so much I’d let the dollar signs in my eyes overshadow my good judgment. Well, never again, I vowed to myself, but the promise didn’t make me feel one bit better. I kept feeling like it wasn’t over yet—like the rash decision I’d made to get involved with a vampire was going to come back and bite me in the ass. Maybe there were consequences coming…consequences that I couldn’t see yet but would be damn hard to pay when they finally caught up to me…

I tried to shake off the dark thoughts as I toweled off and threw on a pair of jeans and an old black t-shirt. There was a T-bone in the fridge calling my name and I fixed it just like my Grandaddy had taught me, on a flat iron pan over the gas stove.

The steak hit the spot and I paired it with a salad, more because I knew I ought to eat a few greens than because I liked rabbit food. After dinner I had a glass of whiskey—just one, to aid digestion as Granddaddy would say—put on a pair of worn but comfortable cotton pajama pants and settled in bed with an old Louis L’Amour novel.

It was the perfect end to a perfect day and if my conscious hadn’t still been nagging me about the job in Florida, I would have drifted off to sleep with no problem. Funny how that works—you probably don’t want to know all the awful things I’ve done—but not a one of them had ever bothered me before. No many how many men I’d killed, I never lost a wink of sleep. But that night I tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position.

About an hour past midnight I was just closing my eyes and getting comfortable when suddenly a door opened in my ceiling.

Of course, I didn’t know it was a door or what the hell was going on. All I knew was that a brilliant light was suddenly shining down from above and I could hear voices talking to each other—or more like yelling at each other. Several of the voices were light and high—female. But one was deep and angry and not human—not human at all. Maybe demonic? The thought made my jaw clench. I didn’t know how I could tell it was the voice of a demon I was hearing, but even half asleep, I knew it, right enough.

Then something big and white fell out of the window directly on top of me.

I was still barely awake—just registering the light from above and the shouting voices. I hadn’t even gotten around to moving yet so the thing hit me square in the chest, nearly knocking the wind out of me. It gave out a startled cry as it landed.

“Oh!”

I was pretty damn startled myself, not to mention surprised that anything could get at me while I lay in my bed at night. My entire house and ranch are warded against intruders but that didn’t seem to matter to the something—or someone—who was struggling in my lap.

“What the hell?” I exploded, sitting straight up in bed. I was determined to get the upper hand so I wrapped my arms around the intruder and held on tight, hoping to throw them off balance.

“Oh! Oh, please! Please don’t—my wings!” gasped a frightened, female voice.

I suddenly became aware that the intruder in my lap was extremely soft and curvy. It was a she and she was struggling frantically against my hands which I had planted firmly on her back to hold her in place.

Then I heard that deep, demonic voice shouting through the still open doorway, “Stop—I command you!” There was a sound of scuffling and then door slammed shut as abruptly as it had opened. For a moment I could still hear the demon’s voice shouting, “She’s mine! Mine, I tell you!”

Then even the faint outlines of the door faded from my ceiling and I was alone in the dark with a strange woman in my arms. A woman who was still struggling and fighting me as though she was desperate to be free.

“Please, my wings,” she begged again.

“What the hell?” I growled again, frowning at her. “Who are you and how did you get here?”

“I’ll tell you anything you want, only please stop touching my wings. It’s not right for a male to have his hands on me there. Please!”

“What are you talking about?” I was utterly bewildered. True, I had my hands on her back but I couldn’t see or feel any kind of wings.

I turned her roughly, putting her into a shaft of moonlight coming from the window so I could examine her shoulders more closely and see what she was talking about. She was wearing a thin white dress with tiny string straps that went quite low—almost down to the small of her back. I brushed her long, white-blonde hair out of the way—it smelled like flowers—and examined her more closely. There were no real wings that I could see but the moonlight showed glowing golden lines etched on her pale skin—lines that looked like feathers tattooed on her flesh.

“I’ll be damned,” I murmured, stroking the glowing golden lines on one shoulder with the tips of my fingers.

“Ah!” she gasped and would have jumped away from me if I hadn’t held her firmly by the waist. “Oh, please—please don’t! I don’t even know you!”

“I don’t know you either, sweetheart,” I pointed out roughly as I pulled my hand away from the mesmerizing golden tattoos. “Didn’t stop you from opening a door in my ceiling and diving down into my bed. Where I come from some men would take that as an invitation to touch a hell of a lot more than your shoulder.”

“Are…are you going to despoil me, then?” she whispered in a quivering voice, turning to face me again.

“Despoil you?” I frowned at her. “You mean am I gonna rape you?”

“Please don’t.” By the moonlight shining in through the window, I could see silvery tear-tracks on her cheeks. She was crying. Who the hell was this girl with the glowing, golden tattoos? And more to the point, what she doing in my bed?

“Of course I’m not gonna rape you,” I said roughly, frowning at her. “But you need to come up with some answers right quick, sweetheart. Like who are you and how did you get here? How did you get past my wards?”

“I didn’t know anything about any wards,” she protested. “Gwendolyn sent me here. Druaga was after me so she did a spell of protection and—”

“Wait a minute—Gwendolyn?” I interrupted her. The name rang a bell. I’d wanted to know about my competition after that debacle down in Florida so I’d checked around to see who the witch on the other side was. “Gwendolyn LaRoux?” I asked, looking at the girl.

“Yes—that’s her.” She nodded eagerly. “Do you know her?”

“I know of her,” I muttered, thinking of the strange dream I’d had of her. It had been a few nights back and I was looking at her through some kind of mirror. I hadn’t thought much of it at the time—the mess down in Florida had been on my mind a lot and I chalked the weird dream up to that. Now I wondered if it had a deeper meaning.

“Gwendolyn’s wonderful,” the girl said. “I rode on her shoulder through five of the seven circles of Hell.”

“You did?” I looked at her doubtfully. Even in the dark room it was easy to see she wasn’t exactly stick thin. Which was good—I like a girl with some meat on her bones. But I didn’t see how she could have ridden on the witch’s shoulder all the way through the Underworld.

“I was in my moth form at the time, of course,” she said a little impatiently.

“Oh, excuse me—your moth form. Well why didn’t you just say so?” I said dryly. “So I guess you’re some kind of a shape shifter?”

“Of course not,” she said primly, smoothly back her long platinum hair. “I’m an angel. Gwendolyn sent me here so you could protect me.”

Well, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather, as my Granddaddy would have said.

“Protect you?” I repeated stupidly. “How in the Hell am I supposed to do that? And who am I protecting you from?”

“Druaga. He’s a demon.” She shivered and a look of real fear came over her delicate features. “He captured me in a spelled box from the fields outside Heaven and dragged me down to Hell. He…he wanted to…”

“To despoil you?” I guessed, using her word, which sounded nicer than “rape.”

She nodded, her eyes wide. “But he couldn’t touch me—no one without purity and goodness in his heart can touch an angel. He was working on a way though—a way to get to me when I escaped. I changed into my moth form and hid myself away on Gwendolyn’s shoulder. She carried me all through Hell and didn’t know who I was.”

“Why didn’t you tell her?” I asked, frowning.

“Because, I got stuck in my moth form,” she explained. “I was stuck in it so long I even lost my name. But Gwendolyn gave me a new one—I’m Eryn.”

“Jake,” I said, giving her my real name without even thinking about it. “Nice to meet you.” I held out my hand.

She looked at my hand uncertainly for a moment, then slipped her own cool little palm into mine. I felt a little tingle run up my arm and Eryn smiled and seemed to relax a little bit.

“Ah, you are pure of heart, then,” she said, smiling.

“Pure of heart?” I snorted. “Darlin’, I’m a warlock which means I’m not pure of anything. I’m not exactly a nice guy.”

“But you must have some goodness in your heart—I can feel it,” she objected “At first I was worried that you might have some dark magic that allowed you to touch me—the kind of thing Druaga was working on. But when you took my hand, I knew what you truly are.”

“Look,” I said flatly, “If you’re trying to butter me up to get me to protect you from this Druaga guy—”

“Demon—he’s a demon,” she corrected me quickly. “And he’s just awful.”

“Is this a problem all the time—demons capturing angels?” I asked. “Was he looking to get you in particular or would any angel do?”

“I…I think he just wanted me,” she admitted, looking down at her hands which were twisting in her lap. “Because, well…I’m different from the other angels. The female ones, anyway.”

“And how are you different, Darlin’?” I asked, frowning at her. “Clue me in here—I’ve never seen a real live angel in the flesh besides you.”

“I’m different because I have…well, these.” She was pointing to her full, ripe breasts and it was hard to tell in the dim light of the room but I thought she might be blushing.

“Because you have a, a-hem, a big chest?” I asked. I was trying not to look but she’d practically invited me to so it was hard to help it.

She nodded. “Most of the other angels—the female angels—are flat and thin. I’m…well, I’m not.” She sounded as though the fact made her sad or self-conscious and I suddenly wondered if angels had body issues or teased each other about looking different.

“So this demon—this Druaga—just wanted you because you had big breasts?” I asked bluntly.

“I have…other differences too.” She was very definitely blushing now. “But I’d rather not go into them. Not now. It’s enough to let you know that he captured me and dragged me down to Hell to despoil me.”

“Well, I admit that sounds bad,” I conceded, wondering what the “other differences” might be. “But I still don’t see what it has to do with me.”

Eryn shook her head.

“I don’t either, Jake. I only know this is where Gwendolyn’s magic sent me. She told me when she did the spell that she didn’t know exactly what it would do but that it would protect me. I trust her—if her magic sent me here, it must be for a reason.”

“A reason, huh?” I muttered thoughtfully.

I had a suddenly idea—maybe the magic had sent me the angel to protect as a kind of karmic payback for helping Celeste try to kill the little vampire gal. It seemed like something that would happen with white magic. Witches go by the rule of three—that is, whatever energy you put out into the world, you get it back threefold. In which case, I was going to be in serious trouble at some point, considering my checkered past. Maybe this was the Goddess telling me I needed to make amends—if she even wanted to talk to me that was. I’d been on a dark path since the age of fourteen—could it be she still wanted anything to do with me after almost twenty years of bad behavior and black magic?

Suddenly, though she’d been dead for over ten years, I heard my Nana’s voice speak up inside my head.

“You do it, Jake,” she said in that no-nonsense tone that meant you’d better listen up or get ready to take a switching. “It’s a second chance for you—a way to get right with the Goddess before it’s too late. If this pretty little girl needs your help and protection, well then, you protect her.”

“Are you going to send me away?” Eryn’s soft voice broke my train of thought. “If you are, could you at least try to send me someplace Druaga can’t find me? I…I’m so frightened of him. He used to tell me exactly what he wanted to do to me and it was so awful…”

There were tears in her big eyes again and I wished I knew what color they were—it was hard to see in the moonlight.

“Hey, now—hey,” I said, reaching out to swipe a tear off her cheek with my thumb. She shied a little at my touch but relaxed when she saw I was being gentle. “You can rest easy, Darlin’,” I told her. “I’m not sending you anywhere. Well—except to another room. You can’t sleep in here with me.”

“Why not? Please don’t send me away!” She looked at me pleadingly.

“You’re still a stranger,” I said patiently—or as patiently as I could, considering it was the middle of the night and I was dead tired with a stray angle in my house. “Angel or not, I don’t know you well enough to let you sleep in bed with me.”

“But what if you put me in another room and Druaga finds me and comes for me?” she whispered. “Will you be able to get to me in time?”

“He’s not going to get to you,” I promised. “My entire house is covered in protective wards and no trespassing spells.”

“But Gwendolyn’s magic was able to get past all that or I wouldn’t be here,” she pointed out.

Well, she had me there.

“Fine,” I said, sighing. “You can stay in here with me but we’re not sleeping in the same bed.”

There were two reasons for that. Number one, I’m wary of strangers—always have been. She seemed soft and gentle but she’d come right out of the ceiling—out of Hell if what she was saying was true. I wanted some time to get to know her before I trusted her. And number two, the little angel was just too tempting. I hadn’t been with a woman for longer than I wanted to admit and I had no interest in tormenting myself by sleeping beside such a soft, curvy beauty all night wishing I could touch her and knowing I couldn’t.

“All right,” she said in a small voice. “I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t mind.”

“No, you won’t,” I said, frowning. “My Nana would skin me alive if she knew I’d let a lady take the floor while I kept the bed.”

“Your Nana?” She frowned. “Who is she? Is she here?”

“She was my grandmother and she’s dead,” I said shortly. “But she didn’t raise me to disrespect women—or angels either for that matter. So you take the bed and I’ll take the chair.” I nodded at the big old arm chair in the corner of my bedroom. It was a pretty comfortable piece of furniture—I’d fallen asleep there many times before when I was up late, pouring over grimoirs and spell books. It wouldn’t be as good as the bed but I could manage there all right.

“Are you certain?” Eryn was nibbling her lush lower lip. “I mean, I hate to ask you to leave your own bed.”

“Believe me,” I said, eyeing the way the moonlight was shining through her thin white gown and outlining her full, luscious breasts. “It’s better this way.”

“All right,” she whispered. “Thank you, Jake. And thank you for saying you’ll protect me.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” I said grimly. “I’m still not sure exactly what we’re up against or what we’re going to do about it.”

I grabbed my pillow and pulled a quilt my Nana had made out of the cedar chest at the foot of the bed. Then I went across to the armchair and started making myself comfortable—well as comfortable as I could, anyway.

I heard some rustling in the bed and I saw that the angel had settled down and was snuggling under the blankets. It seemed almost like she could feel my eyes on her because she peeped over the edge of the covers and looked at me for a moment.

“Good night, Jake,” she whispered in the darkness. “And thank you again.”

“Welcome, Darlin’,” I said tiredly. “Just settle down and try to get some sleep. If angels sleep, that is.”

“Yes, we do,” she whispered. “As long as we feel safe.”

“You’re safe,” I told her. “Nothing’s getting to you unless it goes through me first.”

“Thank you for that. For being willing to protect me.”

“Hey, don’t thank me—thank Gwendolyn.” I shrugged. “It was her magic that sent you here in the first place—even though I still don’t really understand why.”

Eryn nodded and lay her head back down on the pillow.

I tried to settle down myself but my mind was a mess and my whole life was turned upside down. I had no idea what I was going to do or how I was going to protect the little angel who had literally landed in my lap.

To be continued…

Author's Note: Cardinal Sins is coming soon but if you're looking for something to read in the meantime and haven't tried my Brides of the Kindred series, check out the first book, Claimed, which is free for a limited time. And join my newsletter  to be the first to find out about new books as they come out.

Hugs and Happy Reading, Evangeline

Other Books by Evangeline Anderson

Brides of the Kindred books (in order)

Claimed (also available in print and as an audio book)

Hunted (also available in print and as an audio book)

Sought

Found

Revealed

Pursued

Exiled

Shadowed

Chained

Divided

Devoured (also available in print)

Enhanced

Cursed

Enslaved

Targeted coming Summer of 2015

Forgotten coming Fall of 2015

Born to Darkness Paranormal series

Crimson Debt

Scarlet Heat

Ruby Shadows

Cardinal Sins (coming soon)

***The above books are just a small sample of Evangeline's work. For a complete list of books from all publishers, please visit her website***

About the Author

Evangeline Anderson is the USA Today Best Selling Author of the Brides of the Kindred and Born to Darkness series. She is thirty-something and lives in Florida with a husband, a son, and two cats. She had been writing erotic fiction for her own gratification for a number of years before it occurred to her to try and get paid for it. To her delight, she found that it was actually possible to get money for having a dirty mind and she has been writing paranormal and Sci-fi erotica steadily ever since.

You can find her online at her website www.evangelineanderson.com

Come visit for some free reads. Or, to be the first to find out about new books, join her newsletter .

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Table of Contents

- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Epilogue
- Kindred 15: Targeted excerpt
- Born to Darkness 4: Cardinal Sins excerpt
- Also by Evangeline Anderson
- About the Author