Page 37 of Demon with Benefits (Hell Bent #3)

TO HELL IN A HANDBASKET

W HEN I RIS CAME BACK THROUGH THE HELLGATE INTO Meph’s bedroom, she found the door open and Raum standing there, Faust asleep in his arms. “So?”

She froze guiltily, wondering how to explain herself.

“Was he at Jacqui’s?”

“He... You know?”

“That he goes to Jacqui’s studio and does art every day?

Yeah, I know. We all know.”

But Jacqui had made it seem like Meph was keeping it a secret. “Does Meph know you know?”

Raum shook his head.

“But...”

“He’s pretty terrible at hiding it. He comes back every day with paint and shit all over him, and Jacqui’s always calling him. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he’s doing.”

“But... why don’t you tell him that you know?”

Raum shrugged. “He’ll tell us when he’s ready.”

That was kinda... sweet. God damn, these demon brothers made her feel like her head was in a blender sometimes.

“He wasn’t there,” Iris said. “Jacqui didn’t know where he was.”

Raum’s mouth tightened, but a moment later he said, “I’m sure he’ll turn up. He disappears a lot. Sometimes he goes binge-partying, and we don’t see him for days.”

Was that what had happened? After Iris had rejected him, had Meph gone out to party and sleep with a bunch of different women to get her out of his system? Her stomach flipped over, and she felt nauseous. She could see it. She wouldn’t even blame him if he had.

Raum must have interpreted her expression correctly because he said, “He hasn’t done that in a while though. Not since... yeah.”

Not since he’s been coming to my place every night. “I gotta go.” She would wander the streets and check every bar and back alley. No, that was stupid. But she had to do something.

Raum’s eyes narrowed. “Do you even have to work, or did you just need an excuse to come here and snoop in Meph’s bedroom?”

“The second one.”

Raum didn’t bat an eye, but his arm flexed around the sleeping puppy. “I’m still taking him.”

“Fine. He likes you more than me anyway.”

For the first time that day, he flashed a smile at her. It was short-lived, however, and his face returned to its requisite scowl almost instantly. “Call me if Meph turns up. Eva and Ash have a show tonight, so that’s where I’ll be.”

“What about Faust?”

His eyes narrowed like he was offended she’d question his caretaking abilities. “I’m only going for an hour or two. He’ll be fine in my room.”

Because, with Raum, he was a perfect angel who didn’t piss on the floor or eat furniture. “Fine.”

“I’ll tell Lily you say hi.”

Iris winced. There was no way she wanted to see her twin today, not when she was such an emotional wreck. Raum always saw right through her, and she didn’t like it. “Thanks.”

Twenty minutes later, she was standing alone in her kitchen, wishing she’d kept Faust after all.

Grimalkin had wandered in when she’d first arrived, glared at her until she topped up his food dish, and then disappeared without eating any. Faust may have liked Raum better than her, but at least he liked her at all. It was a miracle, honestly.

She dragged a palm down her face and groaned. She was sick of all the self-deprecating thoughts, sick of berating herself. Yeah, she’d made mistakes and needed to right them, but this kind of thinking wasn’t helping anyone.

Problem was, she didn’t know how to start making amends when the person she needed to talk to was currently MIA. It bothered her that Raum was unconcerned, even though it made perfect, logical sense. Meph disappeared a lot. Why should this time be any different?

But she couldn’t get this urgent nagging out from under her skin, couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed to find him now . Still, she couldn’t actually go wandering from club to club, so what did she think she was going to—

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

Her initial instinct was to ignore it. She wasn’t in the mood for company, and who came over without calling first?

But what if it was Meph? He couldn’t call because his phone was still in her pocket.

She raced down the hall toward the door. Grimalkin started to yowl from the living room. It had to be Meph. Grim only got that angry when there were demons around.

But as her fingers flipped the lock and pulled on the handle, she was hit with a sudden urge to slam the door and lock it again. Too late. The door was opening and—

It wasn’t Meph. It wasn’t Lily or even Antoine showing up to get his teeth knocked in.

It was her next-door neighbor.

“Um, hello?” She phrased it like a question because why the hell was he knocking on her door?

“Hello, Ms. Donovan.”

She frowned, trying to remember if she’d told him her name in their first conversation. For some reason, her heart was pounding, and her blood was ice. Grimalkin was hissing and spitting from the hall behind her, more upset than he ever got around Meph.

“What did you say your name was again?” she asked.

It was an odd question, but for some reason, it suddenly felt like critical information.

He smiled thinly. “I didn’t.”

And then he planted a palm on the door and shoved, sending it crashing against the wall.

Meph awoke with a groan, his head pounding. He blinked heavy eyelids and tried to roll over in bed, only to find his bed was just really uncomfortable, hard ground. And the skin on his abdomen hurt like holy hell. Fuck , it really hurt. It hurt so bad, it felt like he didn’t have any skin at all.

On top of that, his arm burned where he’d been stabbed with the syringe of angel blood, and his head spun like he had the hangover of a lifetime.

But the worst pain of all was his embarrassment at being taken out so easily. One jab and he’d dropped like a stone.

He ought not to be surprised, though. Angel blood was potent stuff, a surefire way to bring down a demon of any size and strength. It was a known weapon but not a common one, as it was one of the hardest things to find on the Blood Market.

Maybe Meph ought to be flattered that Valefor considered him important enough to use what had to be a priceless dose, but mostly, he was just annoyed.

And pissed. And... scared. It shamed him to admit it, but it was true.

He didn’t want to be here again. He’d thought he’d left this behind for good. He’d thought he was safe.

“You’re awake.”

Meph turned his throbbing head and blinked, meeting the loathsome gaze that was burned into all his worst memories.

Still in human form, Valefor was crouched, and he watched Meph with that avaricious gleam that had always made his skin crawl.

Literally crawl, in fact, like those times he’d been dunked in a vat of scorpions.

Yeah, his memories with Val were real fucking peachy.

“What the—” Meph managed, but he was still too groggy to formulate his thoughts into a question. And whatever was wrong with his midsection was making him want to pass out.

He had enough awareness to realize he was sprawled on cold stone in the middle of a big binding sigil. The kind that was made to trap powerful demons.

Valefor smiled. “I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time, Mephistopheles. Raum took you away from me, but I always knew I would get you back.”

Like Meph was a prized chihuahua or some shit? Valefor had always seen his demon as a deranged pet he could train to do tricks. Unfortunately, he was kinda right.

As if to prove it, there was a familiar bullwhip in his hand, coiled into a tight spiral.

The sight of it alone was enough to make Meph’s stomach churn.

Val had always kept the whip in his coat—at one point, all he’d needed to do was pretend to reach for it to get Meph to fall in line—but he was holding it now, likely to serve as a reminder of the cost of disobedience.

“How... ?”

Speaking was still a bit of a challenge. Meph was too busy trying not to lose control of himself. There was a burning pit of hunger and darkness rising steadily inside him like a volcano nearing eruption, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold it in.

Which made no sense. None of this did.

“How did I find you?” That heinous smile stretched Valefor’s face again. “Why, I’m so glad you asked.”

And then Meph heard it. A muffled scream, a sound of stifled rage. It was a voice he knew well, and it made his stomach drop out the bottom of him.

He blinked hard, fighting to focus through the persistent throbbing in his head, and then he saw her. Iris was on the ground in the far corner, hands bound in front of her, a gag tied over her mouth.

His awareness expanded to his surroundings. Cold stone floor and walls. Torchlight barely illuminating the gloom. Long, creeping shadows. Dank, musty air.

He knew this place. Knew it very well, in fact.

They were in Hell.

Fury filled him. Valefor had taken Iris to his lair, the last place in all the realms Meph wanted her going.

He tensed his abs to sit up—preferably to launch at Valefor and tear his fucking face off—but a lance of pain shot through him so powerfully that he blacked out. When he came to seconds later, he finally looked down at whatever was wrong with him and nearly puked.

His shirt was missing, and it looked like Val had had a go at recreating Flayed Alive , because there was a big chunk of skin missing across the front and side of his torso.

Most of the binding sigil, the tattoo that kept his demon form contained, was gone.

It was a hack job and hadn’t taken off the full design, but it was enough. The sigil was interrupted, and Meph immediately understood that the bubbling, volcanic ravenousness inside him was coming straight from his unleashed demon.

He could shift again. All it would take was a little persuasion. He glanced at Iris and suddenly had a pretty good idea how Val was going to convince him to do it.

How long had Valefor been lurking next door to Iris, waiting to make his move? How long had she been in danger while Meph hadn’t had a clue?

You dumbass motherfucker. He’d kick his own ass if he could.