Chapter Twenty-Two
“If it isn’t the goddess herself gracing Shadow’s with her presence” came a charming call from over our shoulders. I turned to watch the black, white, and gray demon approach but didn’t miss Fauna’s creeping blush as she took a deep, steadying breath. She’d seemed so self-assured when they’d flirted in the back of Betty’s metaphysical shop. Maybe it was a little harder to keep her act together on his turf. “When I told you not to wait twenty years, I didn’t realize I’d said the magic words.”
Azrames leaned onto the bar beside Fauna, resting his weight on his arm.
“I don’t want to jinx it by asking to what I owe the honor. Who am I to question fate? How about it, sojourners? Can I get you another? Fauna? What about you, Marmar—who I hope knows better than to say her full name out loud down here?”
A knot in my throat made it impossible to swallow as the man casually dropped an adorable nickname. “I…no. No, I haven’t.”
“Atta girl,” he said approvingly.
My soul left my body. I turned away to conceal the open-mouthed shock and accompanying flush. I couldn’t blame Fauna. The man dripped sex. He’d shoved his jacket up to his forearms, revealing thick, muscled arms and large, strong hands.
Azrames ordered a round for all of us. My head was already ringing pleasantly as the buzz crept into my limbs. I usually drank only while writing. Ah, shit. Writing. I needed to message EG back…though something told me that my phone would not work from another realm. Hopefully, two international bestsellers would buy me the grace to play hooky for a little while.
Fauna still hadn’t spoken, so Azrames carried on for the three of us.
“Last time you were in Hell…”
She turned a violent shade of scarlet. If I had caught the arch of her back and curl of her toes, I was sure he had, too. He positively sparkled at her reaction.
“We’re on business this time, Az,” she said breathlessly. It was the first time she’d spoken since he’d arrived.
“And…,” he tested, “can the business wait until morning?”
I could have written poems on the way Azrames’s eyes stayed trained on Fauna’s face, amazed and intimidated all at once by the burning intensity of his unwavering gaze. Mine, on the other hand, flickered once more to her tell-tale toes.
God, these two were incorrigible.
I finished my beer, sipping as I watched the speckled smartass fumble with the dredges of her candy-apple drink and struggle to speak. I would have exchanged glances with the bartender if he’d had a face. Instead, I waited as the handsome demon laid out the red carpet with a little more shameless flirting before it was time for us to leave.
“You ready, Marmar?”
I pointed to myself with a little too much surprise. I’d almost forgotten I existed amid the intensity of their two-person play.
“She’s fine.” Fauna waved without looking at me.
“Off we go.” He winked.
Azrames waved goodbye to the shadow before plucking a dark umbrella that I hadn’t realized he’d rested against the wall upon entry. He pushed the door open with one hand, sheltering Fauna and me with the other as he escorted us to a slick, black vehicle.
A renewed confusion coursed through me. I’d expected to be led to a hearse, a hellhound, a horse-drawn carriage. Instead, he led us to the most expensive car I’d ever seen in my life. The black night of driving rain couldn’t obscure the star-striking anomaly at the curb. The man drove a goddamn Bugatti. My gaze shot between him, Fauna, and the sports car. I didn’t know much about Hell, but I knew money when I saw it.
Azrames didn’t seem to notice my open-mouthed shock at what would have been north of a two-million-dollar vehicle in the mortal realm, with some models topping out in the fifteen million range. I gulped against the display of wealth, vividly remembering a client’s gripe about the race cars. He’d claimed he’d love to buy one but that the elite ones sat only two, and he had a wife and children to consider. He’d claimed he was unwilling to consider humiliating himself with the four-seater models. I’d recognized it for the bluff it was. The top models cost anywhere from five to fifteen million. He was a first-time client, and I knew from the way he’d tipped and cut the evening short that it would also be his last meeting with me. When it came to Maribelle and Bugattis, the man could afford neither.
I’d refrained from mentioning that “considering his wife and children” should begin with the ethics of hiring escorts rather than where they’d sit. I was a single working woman. They were the ones going to Hell. Or…perhaps I’d have to come up with somewhere worse for the bastards to end up, as Hell seemed far too cool for them.
I remained beneath the protective canopy, rain thumping overhead as I tried to calculate what one would have to do to own a Bugatti. While my cogs continued turning, Azrames busied himself opening the front door for Fauna first, then the back door for me. The doors lifted skyward, making me feel like an accomplice to a Bond villain as I slid in. The rain quietly dripped down his hair as he held the umbrella over her, then me, protecting us from its chilling bite.
I was pretty sure I was in love with him.
I scooted to the middle of the back in case I needed to be included in conversation but immediately felt like I had turned on the early dialogue to porn, which did nothing to lessen the star-struck crush I’d grown on the couple in the front seats. I didn’t know how to click out of the screen. The actors were already delivering their lines.
“It’s still the hottest chain I’ve ever seen,” Fauna said, four strong drinks clearly working as she ran a finger along the silver, rope-like necklace that had been draped around him like a lasso in four distinct tiers, intricate sigil dangling from the bottom.
“It would look better around your neck,” he said, “particularly once we get you out of your wet things.”
“But I didn’t get we—” She stopped in the middle of her sentence, squirming as his meaning clicked. He grinned, sharpened canines catching in the dimmed light from his chariot.
I was caught between wanting to disappear and being unable to look away. I wasn’t sure whether or not I wanted them to stop or if I was buzzed enough to ask them to let me watch the inevitable conclusion of their entanglement… Maybe if I’d been shooting whiskey instead of drinking beer…
Some part of me remembered a proverb about two wolves fighting within every person. One was for light, and one was for dark. I chewed on my lip as I considered the outcome. I was in Hell, after all.
It was a twenty-minute drive from the bar to Az’s place. While he kept one hand responsibly on the wheel, another rested on Fauna’s knee, his thumb working idly over her thigh.
We stayed put when he parked, equally speechless. If Fauna was too stunned to speak, then it was out of the cards for me entirely. She didn’t even look over her shoulder at me as he rounded the car to open her door, extending his hand to help her out of the passenger’s seat.
The walk from the vehicle to his apartment was the single, tensest moment of my life. I might have been imagining it, but Azrames seemed to have lost a bit of his swagger as he unlocked the large, black door to his place.
I pulled my lips inward as I battled the urge to make a curious face. Was he nervous?
Ever the gentleman, he ushered us into a home so grand that it turned my eight-thousand-a-month unit into comparative squalor. He tossed his keys onto the island and told us to make ourselves at home while he moved into the kitchen and poured glasses of water for everyone. I appreciated how well he’d decorated the large, upscale space, even if it was a tad masculine. The furniture, though expensive, remained stiff with a certain coldness. The art was tasteful, the place was enormous, and the entire floor was filled with the arousing smells of fire, authority, and the same incense that had burned in the metaphysical shop. I considered the scent and the memory of my trip to Daily Devils. Perhaps Betty had been it solely for her demonic business partner.
He offered me a glass of water, voice husky as he did his best to address me, though his attention was clearly divided. “Mar, you can stay in the room at the end on the left. It has its own bathroom. I’m pretty sure the items in the closet will fit you.”
I scarcely had time to react.
He turned to Fauna, but she didn’t give him a chance to say another word. She planted her hands on his chest and pushed him backward toward a bedroom that she obviously knew very well. His grin returned as he picked her up, scooping her into his arms with an unmistakable growl until her legs wrapped around his waist, cinching them together. Her mouth was on his with claiming intensity before I had the chance to look away. They’d barely closed the door to his room when I heard the unmistakable tear of fabric and the first of what would be two carnal hours of many, many moans.
If I were a better person, I would have politely ignored them.
But I’m not a better person.
I was very curious to know what someone might look like in a world devoid of color without the hassle of that sinfully thin white T-shirt, the cuffed jacket, the dark jeans. I would have clicked on a vanilla thumbnail of the two of them based on the visual curiosity of a gray, horned man and an impossibly beautiful woman alone, but something between the gasps, the yelps, and the distinct metallic sound of chains told me that whatever was happening behind those doors was premium content.
I made my way to the guest room and crawled atop the mattress.
I stripped free of my things and allowed the auditory erotica to wash over me with drenching intensity. Az would have soaked anyone’s panties, but hearing him unleash himself was a memory I’d have to tuck into the back of my memory for lonely nights. The hedonistic music of their ravishing carried from their room into mine. The banging headboard created an excellent bass for the high, rhythmic sound of slapping flesh against flesh. It set the perfect tempo for the circular stroke of fingers after my hand wandered south. My right hand moved in company with their sounds, my left working my breast until it landed on my throat. My back arched off the bed in coordination with the snarls, and the loud, climactic screams of the grand finale happening on the other side of the wall.
I helped myself once, then twice.
If they didn’t want my adjacent participation, they shouldn’t have made their sexual chemistry such a palpable problem. I came harder than I had in months and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep on the silk sheets of an impossibly soft bed.
It took me a while to realize where I was.
My fingers stretched out against the black, butter-soft sheets. I’d fallen asleep naked with the luxurious material caressing my skin. God, these sheets were amazing. I almost made a mental note to ask him where he’d bought them before remembering that Azrames and I didn’t share a Bed Bath Beyond.
I slipped from the bed and walked naked to the bathroom, bare feet warmed by luxuriously heated floors.
His enormous, bronze tub reminded me of a witch’s cauldron. It was gorgeous and I wanted one for my home, though I supposed unrequited envy might be a common theme down here. I smirked, recalling the seven deadly sins as my fingers dangled in the running water until I was satisfied with the temperature. I allowed the tub to fill while I investigated my surroundings. The tub was nearly the size of a one-person swimming pool, which gave me time to find an offensively soft towel, an antiqued silver mirror that seemed to be whispering breathy compliments, and a robe fit for a queen.
My lower lip puckered at the mysterious array of products.
As things hadn’t been bought in bulk at the nearest supermarket, the bottles lacked labels. I opened a variety of glass jars, all in uniformly aesthetic shades, sniffing and testing them until I ascertained that Azrames had provided shampoo, conditioner, soap, perfume, and a bright, minty liquid that had to be mouthwash. I wasn’t exactly expecting Old Spice, but I was still surprised that the hair products smelled nothing like the ash incense that he exuded. Instead, the delicate floral notes were distinctly feminine.
Then it was time to luxuriate in my personal spa.
I sank into the waters as I experimented with different soaps and things, mostly for the experience of bathing in Hell. Fauna had spent what may or may not have been the most animalistic night of her life only a few feet away. If I wasn’t going to get laid, I felt I at least deserved a sumptuous soak and a good meal. When I’d finished my bath, I wrapped my hair in the nicest towel a human could ever feel, slipped into the robe, and dabbed some of the perfume on my wrists. There was something vaguely familiar about the scent. It reminded me of the ocean and the forest all at once, though I couldn’t quite place it. Once again, it seemed like it belonged to a woman.
I rolled my eyes as I recalled a comment Azrames had made the night before. He’d suggested I might find something clean that would fit me in the closet.
The shampoo and conditioner, the perfume, the clothes all made sense. Of course, the ultimate fuck boy would have the sort of pussy parade that ended in a veritable treasure chest of clothes from which a guest could choose. I left wet footprints from the bathroom to the closest, ready for something dark, sexy, and sparkly. Perhaps I’d meet the King of Hell in lacy black lingerie.
I opened the closet and frowned.
My eyebrows bunched against the confusing array of neatly hung shirts and pants. Loose, flowy pants…crocheted tops and cropped band tees… My frown deepened as I leafed through the clothes as if paging through a book.
Everything was unmistakably Fauna’s.
I pulled a long, thin, white tunic free from the closet and stared at it. Intricate green and silver threading of beautifully stitched leaves ran along the collar and the sleeve cuffs. I returned it and grabbed something else—a loose, black shift dress with Nordic rosemaling embroidered along the hem.
Holy shit.
I took a few steps back from the closet and looked at the time capsule of their story.
Azrames was not some demonic fuck buddy. The perfume…it was Fauna’s.
This room was the shrine of a man in love.
I sank to the bed, closet doors still open as I stared at the evidence. I wasn’t sure how to pick something of hers to wear, not only because she’d managed to dress like a hippie for centuries but because it seemed wrong, somehow, to disturb the things he’d kept safe over the years as she’d transitioned from Scandinavian forest maiden to nomadic yoga fiend.
She’d changed, and he’d let her.
It was all I could do to keep from crying out when the door opened.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that Fauna didn’t knock before letting herself in, but I still jumped as if I’d been caught in the middle of breaking the law. I blinked out an apology.
“Oh, good,” she said cheerily, oversize button-up shirt grazing the tops of her thighs, hair tousled, and with the glow of someone who’d just gotten laid. “You’re awake! And you found the clothes.” She went to the closet and selected a few comfortable things, then gave the clothes a hard shove, forcing them to the far end of the rack as she fished for two zipped-up bags at the back of the closet.
“Here.” She tossed me a pair of cozy sweats. “Unless you want to wear the robe until we get ready for the palace. I do keep some nice things here. Just in case.” She winked.
“Fauna…”
She stopped what she was doing to look up at me.
“Who is Azrames to you?”
She blushed again, which confused me. Before, I’d thought it was merely the sexual chemistry pinking her cheeks. Now I recognized it as something else entirely. “What do you want to know?” She lifted a single shoulder in a half-shrug, though she fought too hard to keep the gesture casual. It was utterly unconvincing.
I unwrapped my hair from the towel, absorbing the remaining dampness as I looked at her. “Well, clearly the sex is terrible and you hate each other, so, being cagey about it makes sense.”
She sank against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other as she looked at me. “Tell me, wise and powerful Marlow, what would you have me do?”
I gestured to the lavish life around me. “Move to Hell? Be with him? Be in love? Be happy?”
“I am happy.”
“He said you hadn’t seen him in twenty years!”
She began to unbutton her shirt to change into her sweats. Given her silence, I took my cue to do the same. I slipped the robe off my shoulders, feeling guilty for letting such expensive material puddle at my feet. I stepped into a pair of Fauna’s baggy pants and the short-sleeve shirt she’d offered me. There would be no bra or panties in Hell, it seemed. I supposed that was okay, as long as everyone in the house was fine knowing I was cold.
“Tell me something,” she said, exhaustion tinging her voice. “Truly, Marlow, I want an answer.”
I straightened and looked at her, preemptively defensive.
“If someone adores you for your chaos, what’s the best way to honor that love? If they treasure your rootlessness, if they celebrate your anarchy, if they love you as you are, do you think they’d be dancing in the streets if you gave up the very essence at the core of your being that made them fall for you?”
I folded my arms over my chest, both to cover the chilly evidence beneath her thin, white shirt and to shield my discomfort.
She pushed. “Humans do it all the time. I swear to the gods, it’s the norm in your realm. And how often does it make them happy?”
I shook my head as if to argue but had no defense.
“Besides,” she said, levity returning to her voice. “Hell doesn’t fit my aesthetic.”
“But then…” I didn’t know what to ask, except, “Why did you have to throw back four drinks to work up the courage to call him?”
She snorted. “Az is wild in bed. He’s amazing, but you’d need a few drinks too after a long break from that kind of ride.”
I opened my mouth to respond but snapped it shut again.
I couldn’t begin to comprehend a nymph and demon’s parameters for kinky sex, so I began to unzip the bag to see what had been hidden at the back of the closet. Searching for something to break the haze of my confusion, I asked, “Why did we need Betty to call him?”
“That one is your fault. We needed a safe space to prove the efficacy of your ink outside of your sigil-painted apartment,” she said, snatching the bag from me. She shook the bag free and procured a stunning gown. “Thank the gods and goddesses we got our hands on Aloisa’s s?lje; otherwise I’d still be mortal-bound just to keep you safe. It really ties my hands. And not in the fun way…” Her mind seemed to drift, one hand idly tracing the bare skin of her wrist.
I cleared my throat.
“Anyway.” She handed me the dress, snapping to attention. “I think this one suits your coloring better. I’ll wear the green one. Let’s have a relaxing day, so don’t worry about changing yet. Tonight, we meet the King.”