Friction
The red-tinged walls of the cavernous room give me chills, even in my current stupor.
Chains and other torture devices hang from the rock walls, only adding to the creep factor.
This is Hell, the homeland of suffering, so I shouldn’t be surprised.
But seeing it up close drives the point home and increases my revulsion.
At the front of the room is a raised dais with opulent gold-and-burgundy wingback chairs. Nolda is perched in the one positioned in the center, looking like the king atop his throne.
Except it’s all wrong.
Nolda isn’t worthy to be king.
Not even king of Hell.
He screams amateur, even wearing his true demon skin. Without his handsome disguise, he is off-putting to be sure, but no less than any other lowly demon. In the hierarchy of scare factor, he’s a solid five-point-oh. In other words, lame.
He doesn’t exude authority, which is key to holding the allegiance of the demons the master of Hell must rule over.
If anything, he looks comical in the overly large chair that dwarfs him.
And even more so next to the far more frightening demons seated next to him.
No, he won’t rule. These higher demons will fight him after it’s all said and done to take control for themselves.
It’ll be a never-ending war between the creatures of the damned.
On the right is a werewolf, who looks seconds away from lunging from the chair to snatch up something in front of him that I can’t see. Thick drool runs down his jowls as he licks a pointed canine.
To the left is a beast with two massive horns protruding from his head.
His skin is a sickly yellow that appears to have been melted on one side.
These two high demons are truly terrifying.
I have no idea who they are, but they exude more power than Nolda, and I wonder why they’re lowering themselves to sit beside him. What’s in it for them?
Nolda stands, smiling at me from across the room as he raises his hand. The room goes silent. He motions toward me and my demonic entourage. “Our entertainment for this evening has arrived.”
The women holding my chains tug, dragging me toward the front. I’m pushed onto my knees, off to the side of the raised dais, facing out toward the tables lining the room.
In front of me, four others are seated on chairs chained to the floors. Three men and a woman who are definitely not demons.
It’s clear that two are brothers. Both have the same facial structure. Chiseled jawlines, straight, Greek-like noses, and blond hair. One sports a darker shade than the other. The man directly in front of Nolda—the angrier, fiercer looking of the two—fights against his restraints.
“Why the fuck are you holding us here, Nolda?” the man barks. “You gave me your word that I only needed to escort my brother to the door, and I could leave.”
“Well … plans changed, Julian. I needed you here.”
“I will kill you when I get loose from these chains.” He bares his teeth, and that’s when I notice the elongated canines.
Vampire.
The wolf next to Nolda growls, and the horned-demon bellows in amusement.
“Brother, don’t waste your threats. They’ll fall on deaf ears here.”
“Yes, Julian. Listen to Lawrence. Although … he’s the one who got you both in this mess. Perhaps you should aim those threats at him.”
The man referenced as Julian cuts a glare at Nolda before turning his anger on his brother.
“He’s got a point, Law,” he grinds out. “If we get out of here, it won’t be Maggie you need to hide from. I’ll help her disembowel you.”
The threat isn’t serious—it’s clear in the way Law rolls his eyes. These brothers have an affection for each other. I can feel it wafting off them. But I also feel their anger. It’s palpable. Strong. These are not human men.
“What exactly are you two doing here?” Law asks the couple seated next to him.
A middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, handsome but otherwise seemingly inconsequential in comparison to the well-dressed vampires beside him, remains quiet.
“Can’t you cast some spell and whisk us out of here?” Law asks, sounding annoyed.
“The witches’ power is useless here. I have a friend who’s made sure of it.”
Witches and vampires … interesting.
The warlock sits next to an equally plain-looking woman I’m assuming is a witch too. They’re almost purposely understated, as though they were hoping to go unnoticed. They missed the mark. Anything less than demonic isn’t going unseen here.
The witch’s hair is pulled back into a chignon, and she’s cloaked in a basic brown shift dress.
With further inspection, it’s easy to see she’s young.
Her garb makes her look older than she is.
When she turns in my direction, I find there’s not a line or wrinkle on the woman’s face.
Her blue eyes sparkle with ire, but she stays silent, like her companion.
Despite the woman’s plain appearance, she is beautiful, in a girl-next-door sort of way, which makes it even less likely that they could’ve been attempting to sneak around. Which only begs the question—why are they here and why are they shackled?
I shut my eyes and attempt to reach out to Luke, but nothing happens. Could I have imagined the whole interaction earlier? Did I dream him up too?
When my eyes open, they meet a pair of dark eyes.
In the corner on the opposite side of the room from me, River sits solo, slouched back, knee perched on top of his other leg.
His black Henley shirt sleeves are pushed up to the elbows, showing off his muscular forearms. He appears unruffled by the whole event playing out in front of him, but his eyes remain fixed on me.
We hold each other’s gaze for several tense moments, during which I don’t even think I blink. My heart thunders in my ears and a voice whispers for me to look away, but I can’t. I’m transfixed.
What’s your story?
Thumping ricochets off the walls, finally breaking the spell. At least fifty low demons sit at tables, set up banquet style, pounding their fists onto the tables.
“Quiet,” Nolda bellows, and the noise ceases.
“What is this?” River asks, motioning toward the additional prisoners.
An impish grin spreads across Nolda’s eerie face. He leans back into his chair, arms perched atop the armrests and fingers steepled.
“The Bellamy brothers were invited here as guests.”
“Quite the hospitality, don’t you think?” Lawrence says to River in a tone that sounds more teasing than anything else.
He’s so different from any vampire I’ve ever met. Almost … human.
“Why are they prisoners if you invited them here, Nolda?” River cuts into my thoughts.
Nolda shrugs. “That’s a story for later.”
River’s eyes narrow but he doesn’t press, moving on to the next pair. “And them?”
“Abdiel found those two lurking around the manor. I’ve brought them in so that you can all witness their questioning. Meet Curtis Bishop and Sarah Foster.”
The vampire brothers share a look of confusion at the mention of the other two’s names.
“Who is she?” Sarah Foster has the nerve to ask, tilting her head in my direction.
She’s not quaking in fear at the demons in front of her. If anything, she appears detached from the entire situation.
“That, my dear Sarah, is the woman who has brought Satan to his knees.”
Her head snaps back to mine, eyes now wide.
“Quite a letdown, isn’t it?” Lilith sneers from the doorway.
“Indeed,” Nolda continues.
I don’t pay them any attention. I’ve already had my fun with Lilith. Now, I’m over her existence.
The demon Abdiel rises from his perch, slinking my way. Cold creeps into my bones, deeper than anything I felt when first waking in this hellscape, getting stronger the closer he gets.
“She is the fallen angel Satan has sworn to give up everything for?”
The deep timbre rattles my senses as it washes over me. This demon is the worst of the worst. He’s evil incarnate.
How did Luke manage to keep these creatures at bay?
“He feeds me souls of the corrupted,” he wheezes, bearing down over me.
“You’re reading my mind?” I seethe. “You’re lucky I don’t have Solis with me. You’d be a goner.”
He laughs. “You can try, little angel.”
“I’d be careful if I were you,” River warns. “She’s very touchy about the whole mind intrusion thing you all do around here.”
Nolda flicks his wrist at River as if to shoo him away.
“Nolda, you didn’t ask my queen to come all of this way just to parade half-naked women and Hell’s lackeys in front of her. So why am I here?” River barks, not at all bothered by the evil in this room.
If anything, he seems a little too comfortable for my liking.
My cheeks heat as all eyes in the room glide over me due to his mention of my lack of dress.
I try my best to turn my body to shield as much as possible from the prying eyes of the grotesque demons, but it’s no use.
The women behind me yank on the chains binding my hands and legs, pulling me taut.
My ample breasts strain against the thin material, and at any moment, I fear a nipple slip may occur.
“Patience, River. We will dine. Then I will lay it all out.”
“This has been a mistake,” the severe-looking blond man chides. “You allowed us entry. I simply wish to use the portal to the Fae kingdom and then I’ll be gone. A vampire war is brewing, and we’re attempting to stop it.”
Nolda slams his hands down onto the chair. A cracking sound emanates through the room, drawing all eyes to him.
“There are multiple wars brewing, Lawrence. Wars that we”—Nolda motions toward the other high demons—“welcome.”
“I’ll never allow it,” Julian bites through his teeth.
“Vampire royalty won’t stop Earth from falling, Crown.” Nolda spits the last word as an obvious insult.
Vampire royalty. This is the king of vampires?
I’ve heard of him, but this is the first time I’ve seen him. We’ve been in the same state since I’ve fallen, but we’ve never crossed paths. There was never a reason. In a strange way, we were allies.