Chapter 17
SIMONE
So what if my new mansion in Hell looks straight out of a gothic luxury fantasy? It’s still a prison. And I’ve been trapped on too many occasions—with cold parents, at soul-crushing jobs, and in abusive relationships—to not want to escape.
For weeks, I’ve been planning my prison break as meticulously as Michael Scofield, refusing to even enter the gorgeous sewing room Az had made for me. I think if I did, I wouldn’t want to leave.
Maybe if he had approached me like a normal person… Ah, I can’t lie to myself. I would have never let him get close enough to try.
In my fancy library, I found a map of Hell.
Sure, it was from the time of the war between Heaven and Hell, which ended five thousand years ago, but I think I recognize the large waterfall I can just see to the left if I poke my head out of the bedroom window.
If I’m not mistaken, Purgatory isn’t very far at all, and there’s even a solid crossing over the Phlegethon on the way.
With a path in mind, I stowed away knives from the kitchen and made myself sandwiches.
It should hopefully only be a day of walking, so nothing will get spoiled.
I worried about how to store drinking water, but then I actually found a wineskin in one of the kitchen cupboards.
Why it’s there, I don’t know, but I’m grateful for it.
The next step was making sure Az’s stupid wards don’t stop me. Not that he mentioned them since he moved me here, but I figure they have to be there, right? He wouldn’t leave anything to chance.
I walked the entire perimeter of the estate, all along the fence, but I haven’t tried climbing it yet.
That changes today. And if the wards will ever be down, it’ll be during the time groceries and food magically appear in the kitchen.
At least that’s my prediction from watching one too many sci-fi movies.
Since it seems to happen at the same time every day, like clockwork, I’m going to make sure that today, as the food arrives, I’m climbing over that fence.
Of course, Az was here, teaching me how to play some ancient Chinese board game, and I told him I’m feeling wiped and need a nap—nothing he isn’t used to, I do like my sleep.
As soon as he left, I changed into clothes I could move in, grabbed my stash, and tied a rug from the downstairs bathroom to my front with tassels from the guest bedroom’s bed canopy.
I’ll need it to cover the spikes at the top of the iron fence.
Which brings me to right now, staring up at them.
Merde, what am I doing? This could go terribly wrong.
The last time I was in Hell all alone, I almost got killed by an imp, and then I got myself kidnapped by a Fallen too seductive for his own good.
Or for my good. But I can’t get over the fact that my teammates probably think I’m long dead.
It was bad enough that I disappeared from Henry’s life overnight.
“Bon… c’est parti.”
Here we go.
I made a lasso with knots I can use as handholds out of bedsheets, and it takes me more tries than I’d like to get it hooked on the spikes. Still, I do a little dance, congratulating myself. I wonder what the meek girl of my past would think of the new, resourceful me.
After testing the hold, I make sure the makeshift pillowcase backpack is secured to my back, then hoist myself up, knot by knot.
The rug and my supplies weigh me down, and I realize just how out of shape I am again.
Half a year at Purgatory got me ready for a war, and a year and a half with Az made me ready to lounge by a pool with a cocktail.
Somehow, I manage to get to the top and untie the rug one-handed, protecting myself from the lethal-looking spikes. I’m out of breath and covered in sweat, but freedom is so close I can almost taste it.
Carefully, I pull myself over the top, taking my sheets lasso with me. I have a giant grin on my face as I lower myself down.
Bravo, Simone!
I look at the mansion Az had made for me one more time and feel an odd tightening in my stomach.
What’s wrong with me? It’s a prison, not a home.
Determined, I square my shoulders and turn my back to it.
I can’t face Hell with conflicting emotions.
If Az wants to see me again, he can come visit me at Abaddon.
The foliage around the river is thick, and dense underbrush attempts to trip me with every step I take. Odd animal calls make the hair on the back of my neck stand up, so I clutch a large knife in my hand, my fingers almost going numb from the strain. I’m ready to defend myself this time.
As I’m skirting the riverbank where one of the small tributaries disappears into the ground—supposedly to resurface in Elysium before popping up here again—the soil under my feet gives out, and I almost tumble down the cliff and into the waters.
That would have been a disaster. Even if I survived, I’d have no idea who I am or where I am.
All the fighting skills Maalik and the rest of my mentors drilled into me would be lost forever. I’d be as helpless as a newborn babe.
When Corson was teaching us about Hell’s topography and its denizens, I sometimes let myself daydream about what it would be like to forget all the things that happened, the scars I’m going to carry with me for the rest of my very long Cambion life.
Oddly, the thought was more appealing then than it is now.
Now I realize that my past made me who I am, and while not all of it is perfect, it’s real.
It only takes me a few hours—and a close call with a snake nest—to get out of the jungle around the Lethe. As the trees lose their leaves and the grass under my feet turns brittle, I find myself momentarily wishing I could stay in the area I just escaped. I hate the desert around the Phlegethon.
I trudge on, looking around for places where I could be ambushed. All the while, my mind wanders back to Az. What will he do when he finds me gone? Will he come look for me at Abaddon? Do I want him to?
Maybe Corson or Daniel can help me uncover who he is.
He said he doesn’t serve at a demon lord’s or archdemon’s court, but I haven’t heard of a Fallen with that much freedom.
Can I even call him a fallen angel? He said he’s the son of one, but who is his mother?
Another Fallen… or a demon? That would make him a demon.
I swallow the lump in my throat. Did I let an inherently evil creature tie me up and touch me until I…
Non. Don’t think about it, Simone.
When the forest around Lethe disappears behind me, I sigh and stop to eat something.
I look at the sand under my feet as I chew.
This feels too familiar. Une vraie impression de déjà-vu.
I’m half expecting to be attacked, so I eat hastily and nearly choke on a piece of bread.
Thankfully, my break finishes without anything disturbing me, and I dust myself off, ready to carry on.
My feet are starting to hurt, and I’m sweating buckets. I’m trying to make the water last as long as possible, because I’ll still have a couple of hours to go after I cross the Phlegethon, and the ground hasn’t turned ashy yet.
What if I misjudged the manor’s location? What if I got turned around, and instead of walking toward Abaddon, I’m heading deeper into some archdemon’s territory? Perhaps I’ll fall into the Acheron and drown in my woes.
Ugh. I don’t understand why I’m having a pity party when I just escaped captivity. I’m going to see my friends again, and I’ll be able to…
I’ll be able to, what exactly? Fight for my life constantly?
Yes, we’re protecting people we care about in the human realm, keeping these putain manifestations from spilling over and killing them.
But my teammates were always so much better at it than I am, and it was never a guarantee that I could stay behind and help heal injuries.
My steps slow down as I think. Maybe I can just tell them I’m alive and then ask them to help me get back to Az. But why would they do that? They didn’t let us go home, and we begged and cried. A few people were so scared they actually threw up.
When I think of it this way… hasn’t Az been nicer to me than my so-called mentors? Aside from kidnapping me and keeping me against my will, he’s been giving me everything I wanted. And some things I didn’t know I wanted.
Bordel! Do I have enough water to get back to the mansion? I’ll climb up the fence again, and maybe he won’t even notice I was gone.
Panicking over my choices, I turn around and smack into something hard and warm, my nose filling with the scent of sandalwood and amber. Strong fingers band around my arms, squeezing just enough for me to feel restrained.
“Where do you think you’re going, little fairy?”