Chapter 19 – Jessica
The Malebolge: The Trench of Evil Counselors
“F uck, it’s getting hot again,” I whine. My armor is sticking to me and I’m crankier with each step.
“This trench is a fiery prison,” Itha murmurs after throwing me a sympathetic glance. “The sinners are encased within cells made of fire.”
Groaning, I fight the urge to stomp my feet. Didn’t I read somewhere it was meant to be cold in Dante’s Hell? Why is the titty-sweat to perky-nipples ratio favoring the former?
Sariel pokes my side. “Why are you so crabby, poppet? It’s too soon for you to have your period again.”
I blow air out of my nose. “Why are you mansplaining my cycle to me, Sariel?”
He opens his eyes to a comical degree and makes a show of backing away from me with his hands up. “You’re right, none of my business.”
Shit. Now I’m mad because I feel guilty. Ithuriel’s gloved hand lands on my shoulder and I’m so surprised that I don’t even mind the extra warmth.
“You’ve seen nothing but misery and suffering for over a week, not to mention nearly suffered the sinner’s fate yourself in a few of the trenches. It’s expected that you feel on edge.”
I deflate at his acceptance and look at Sariel from under my lashes. “Sorry, hotstuff.”
He gives me a crooked grin, then eyes Itha’s arm still resting on me, the leather of his gloves creaking as he subtly caresses me with his thumb. I bite my lip.
“Sure, sure,” he says with a wave of his hand. “If you want to take it out on me in a naked wrestling match, I’m here for you.”
Just like that, I’m laughing again.
“You’re magic, Sar,” I tell him with a wink. He looks taken aback for less than a second before his usual cocky grin is back.
“Took you long enough to realize, poppet.”
Itha’s arm disappears as he resumes walking and I immediately sense the loss of contact. Messed-up family aside, I never considered myself as having daddy issues. So why, for all that is unholy, is my mood depending on the attention of not one, but two males? Two very out-of-reach, forbidden males.
I groan again and Sariel chuckles. “Guess my magic didn’t last very long then.”
I pretend to stumble so I can bump into him. “Help me, oh, gallant knight,” I exclaim. “For my buns are already golden brown in this oven.”
Scoffing, he pushes me away, straight into the angel’s embrace. “There’s your knight. And your buns have seen nothing yet.”
Ithuriel’s breath caresses the back of my sweaty neck and an echo of pleasure blooms between my legs. “I’m afraid Sariel is correct,” he says near my ear. “If I am not mistaken, and I find that I rarely am, we’re about to walk into a flaming maze of sinners’ prisons.”
Sariel snorts. “You really know how to sweet-talk a girl, buddy.”
I’m surprised when the angel doesn’t utter his usual retort in the lines of ‘I’m not your buddy, buddy’ and just blushes. As his cheek is so close to mine, I can feel the warmth of the blood suffusing his face. It makes me want to lean back and fall asleep in his arms. There’s just something so… safe about him.
“I’m not sweet-talking her,” he murmurs, placing his arms on my shoulders as if to push me away. But he just holds me there.
Sariel raises an eyebrow. “Clearly,” he says quietly, then spins to continue the way we were walking.
∞∞∞
I observe the sweltering labyrinth of fire below us in awe. “Wow, you weren’t kidding.”
Sariel tugs on my drooping ponytail. “Feels like Lucifer himself made this trench, eh?”
I look up at him with wide eyes. “Could he have? Do we know which big bad made which bolgia?”
Sadly, he shakes his head in negation. “Nah. And Ash never told me. Maybe he even forgot, who knows? Can’t be easy being older than the dinosaurs.”
I choke on an inhale. “My friend’s being boned by someone who’s older than T-Rex?”
My choice of words makes his grin reach his eyes for a change. “Again, who knows? He either won’t or can’t tell us how old he is either.”
“I don’t think I’d still bother with sex after a few thousand years.” I shrug. “I mean, it has to get boring right? I’d probably even get tired of pizza after a few hundred years of eating it every day, and I love pizza with a passion that cannot be contained.”
Sariel snorts while Ithuriel turns his eyes heavenward. I love teasing them. Their reactions are unique. Predictable but still enjoyable.
“I’d never let that happen, poppet.” Is he talking about pizza or sex? “If you ever feel like giving up on sex, call me and I’ll rock your world.”
I give him a droll look. “Do I dial oh eight hundred S-A-R-I-E-L?”
“No.” His smile turns smug. “Use smoke signals. Or Morse code. It’s dotdotdot-dotdash-dotdashdot-dotdot-dot-dotdashdotdot-dotdotdot-dash-dotdotdotdot-dot-dashdotdotdot-dot-dotdotdot-dash-dot-dotdotdot-dash-dotdotdotdot-dashdotdotdot-dot-dotdotdotdash-dot-dotdashdot.”
Ithuriel frowns disapprovingly, but the Morse code was too fast for my brain to catch up. “Wait, wait, wait! Do it again.”
The angel sighs. “Please, do not.”
Thankfully the Fallen doesn’t listen and this time I sound the letters out. “Sa… riel… is… the… best… lover? Lame.”
The best lover looks affronted. “It’s the truth. I did a survey and every single partner said ‘oh, oh, Sariel, right there, yes, you’re the best’ right before they came.”
I throw my head back and laugh, the sound drowning out the shrieks of the burning sinners in the trench below.
“I was told never to trust anything anyone says when in the throes of an org– wait, Itha, where are you going?”
“Away from you two Jezebels,” the departing angel throws over his shoulder.
Sariel chuckles and wraps his arm around me, the gesture as familiar as it is welcome after days in the trenches. “Don’t worry about him,” he says, tilting his chin toward the silver-haired beauty as we begin to follow. “Hey, how’d you know Morse code anyway?”
“I was a girl scout,” I say proudly, puffing out my chest.
The Fallen scoffs. “Of course, you were. Rich white chick. Gotta get those college credits while still in diapers.”
I pinch his arm, naked due to him wearing only his typical leather vest. I’ll probably wish I was wearing less in a moment, too; the flames are getting closer with each step we take, overtaking the horizon.
“I’m over this place, Sar.” I suddenly feel exhausted. Maybe it’s heat exhaustion? “I feel like we’ve been in the Maleboge for months. You know we’ve hardly been eating since we’re low on food and nothing freaking grows here except shit mushrooms.”
He squeezes my shoulders with a chuckle just as Ithuriel drops back to join us at my other side. “We’re almost through the trenches, Jessica,” he soothes me with his clear, serious voice.
Sariel nudges me and I bump into the angel. “I know,” he says. “What’s the first thing you’re gonna eat once we get to the human realm?”
It takes a moment for his words to penetrate – I haven’t even been thinking about what’s at the end of this proverbial tunnel, we’ve been so occupied with surviving it. “You mean, you have human money?”
The dark-haired trickster scoffs. “Do I have money? I’m one thousand five hundred years old. If I hadn’t accumulated cash I’d be an idiot. Or an angel.” He smirks at Itha who gives him a droll look.
“What would an angel do with money? We do not indulge in any human needs or pleasures.”
As we reach a crossroads of flames, I have to intervene. “As much as I’d love to hear Sariel’s sure-to-be funny answer to that question, I think we should start paying attention to where we’re going, boys.” I point to the flaming fork in the road. “Which way do we go? If we get lost in here, I’m gonna start taking bites out of you two.”
Sariel ruffles my hair. “While you’ll definitely be taking us into that wicked mouth of yours, chewing hopefully won’t be involved.” The angel and I both blush, Itha muttering some choice epithets, while the Fallen continues. “No worries, though, I memorized the way while we stood above the trench.”
“So did I,” Ithuriel pipes in.
“Great,” I huff, swiping away a lock of hair that got stuck to my cheek. “Where to?”
“Left.”
“Right.”