Page 44 of Demon with Benefits (Hell Bent #3)

PIPE DREAM

A FTER I RIS’S NAP, DURING THE SECOND SESSION OF wiggling the bar on the window, a chip of stone broke off.

Before that, the mortar pieces she’d been using would quickly crumble to dust, but with her new jagged stone flake, she had a tool that lasted. She chipped away at the mortar around the bar until her arms were shaking and her toes went numb from being perched on the wall.

She dropped down, had another nap, and then got back at it.

The third time, a big chunk of mortar came loose, and not long after that, the bar came free. She wiggled it fiercely around, loosening the remaining mortar on both the top and bottom of the frame until, finally, she had enough space to turn the bar and pull it out.

It took all her self-control not to whoop with exhilaration, and she almost fell off the wall in her excitement. She dropped down and studied the short metal beam, deciding she’d just met her new best friend.

She had just sunk to the floor to take another rest, hoping it would help her head recover faster, when she heard heavy footsteps down the hall.

Scritch, scritch, scritch. It sounded like... claws?

It wasn’t hard to guess who those footsteps belonged too, and her blood chilled with instant dread.

She leapt to her feet, heart suddenly slamming in her ribcage. She cast her gaze frantically around the room for something to aid her, but of course, there was nothing.

What was he going to do with her? She knew Valefor wanted to steal her power—it was the reason he’d come after her and Lily all those years ago—but she didn’t know what that entailed. Did he have some terrible ritual planned?

Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to loosen the other bar on the window, and she accepted now that she’d been deliberately ignoring the fact that she was ten stories up.

Even if she’d gotten the bar free, what was she going to do?

Climb down a stone wall with only tiny cracks for handholds?

She’d be more likely to fall to her death.

So the window escape was out. But... she did have a weapon.

The footsteps stopped outside her door. The sound of the bolt being unlocked made her so nervous she wanted to throw up. Or maybe that was just the persistent nausea.

The brain fog might have worked to her advantage in this case because it made her reckless.

She did what was possibly the stupidest thing she could do.

Flattening herself against the wall beside the door—the side that would open, not the hinges—she brandished her steel pipe and waited for her moment.

The door opened.

A huge... something stepped inside, completely filling the doorframe. She was momentarily stunned into inaction by the sight of him.

He had the head of a horse-donkey-goat thing and the vaguely humanoid body of a.

.. lion? He still wore a long, dark coat, but beneath it, his legs were furry, and his feet and hands were massive paws with an extra deformed-looking appendage that likely served as a thumb.

A long, golden tail swished on the floor behind him.

He was horrifying, but then, thanks to Meph, she’d already faced her worst fear.

Valefor took two steps into the room, and it was obvious he hadn’t seen her yet as she lifted the pipe and brought it down on his head with as much force as she could muster.

It wasn’t much. He was easily six-and-a-half-feet tall, and she didn’t get any of the momentum she would have from the force of a downward swing. But the steel pipe cracked against the side of his big horse skull, and his head snapped back.

He stumbled into the doorframe and out of the chamber with a roar, and Iris knew it was now or never.

It felt like someone else took over her body. All the years of suppressed rage and hatred of this one fucking demon possessed her like, well, a demon, and suddenly, she was furious . Furious and violent.

She charged out of the chamber and smashed the pipe against Valefor’s creepy backward lion knee, and it crumpled.

As his legs folded under him, he was brought to a more equal height, and this time, when she cracked him again, she hit him square between the eyes with enough force that her arms went numb up to her elbows.

His next vengeful roar was accompanied by a savage swipe of his claws that caught her right in the midsection.

It was pure luck that her guts weren’t torn open right then and there.

He missed her by inches, but his claws caught on her hoodie, and the force of his swing sent her flying into the wall and cracking the side of her head against the stone.

Again. In the exact same place.

She screamed with the agony of the impact against her already bruised skull.

Maybe that wasn’t so lucky. But no, she was still standing, and Valefor hadn’t gotten up yet, so she stumbled forward, her vision mostly black with only a tiny, blurry prick of sight left to orient herself with, and she brought down the steel pipe on his head again.

This time, he fell.

So she hit him again. And again. And she kept hitting and screaming and hitting and screaming until her arms gave out and the pipe dropped from her grip with a clatter and rolled away down the hall.

Her insides writhed from the violence and the pounding in her head, and she leaned over and threw up the contents of her stomach. Which wasn’t much, considering she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d eaten at this point. Fuck, she was thirsty now too.

She needed her weapon.

She stumbled toward it, going by the sound of it rolling since she couldn’t see much. Everything was blurry and spinning. Spinning, spinning, spinning.

Her hands were wet. When she glanced at them, she saw the color red blurred against her pale skin and the torn shreds of her black hoodie. Actually, it was Meph’s hoodie.

Meph. She needed to find him.

Her fingers closed around the pipe, and she stumbled down the passage, trailing a hand along the wall to keep from falling. From what she could see, the hall was long and dark and lined with unmarked doors. She had no idea what was behind them, and she didn’t want to know either.

She didn’t delude herself into thinking Valefor would stay down for long.

The only way to permanently kill a demon was to decapitate it and burn the pieces to ash with hellfire.

Anything else was just temporary. She may have caved Val’s head in, but demons could heal from that sort of thing without much trouble.

That meant she probably had all of five minutes to find Meph and convince him not to eat her.

Paimon had had gargoyles crawling all over her castle.

Valefor had to have minions too, right? Were they gargoyles or something else?

Doesn’t matter. What mattered was that if they found her, she was fucked.

She remembered Valefor saying how he kept his servants off this floor so Meph wouldn’t eat them, but she couldn’t count on that forever.

Find Meph. That was all she needed to focus on. The rest would work itself out.

It seemed like the stupidest plan ever—run straight to the monster that had tried to kill her and would probably try again—but she was going with it.

Find Meph, find Meph , she mentally chanted as she stumbled blindly down the hallway. Her vision wasn’t working right, and she felt warmth against her temple and knew she was bleeding. Just her luck she’d been clocked on the head again in the exact same spot.

Shut up, brain, and find Meph. That’s the only thing that matters right now.

She reached the end of the hallway. No, it was only a ninety-degree turn. She rounded the corner, squinted her blurred vision, and found a similar passage lined with even more doors.

What did the demon need such a huge castle for? And, if she were a Duke of Hell, where would she keep her own pet monster? Think, damn it

Kinda hard with this damn concussion.

Valefor was going to wake up any minute. Her progress was so slow it would take him all of ten seconds to catch up to her, and when he did, he would make sure she didn’t escape again. He would make her pay for bashing his skull in—of that, she had no doubt.

She had seconds. Less than seconds. There was no time to play it safe.

So she threw back her head and shouted at the top of her lungs, “ Meph! ”

If he was somewhere in the castle, he would hear her and he would come. He had to come.

“Meph, it’s Iris!”

She paused, listening and hearing nothing.

“Meph, you crazy fucking freakshow! Come and eat me! I’m right here, ripe for the taking! One big, juicy, terrified witch!”

And then... there he was.

At the end of the hall ahead of her, he peeked around the corner. The first thing she saw was one of his skeletal hands reaching out around the stone. And then his head came out at a side angle, peering at her with those haunting red eyes, the bottom half of his face still hidden behind the wall.

It was... kind of cute.

Yep, that settled it: She had a serious head injury.

There should’ve been nothing cute about the goddamn Grim Reaper peeking at her as he sized her up for his next meal. Except there was.

And then the rest of his body followed, and the moment evaporated like dew in the desert.

He came around the corner, and fuck , she’d forgotten how huge he was. The saliva in her mouth turned to ash, her stomach hollowed out, and she shrank back against the wall behind her.

The monster approached, tall and slender and looming. He seemed to hover. The base of his cloak was only shadows, pouring off him like mystical smoke.

“Meph?” Her voice was like a tiny whisper in a silent cavern. Inaudible, yet somehow deafening. She wedged herself deeper into the corner. “It’s me. Iris.”

Did he recognize her at all? Did he have any clue who she was, or was she just another quivering ball of fear for him to eat?

He stopped himself before , she reminded herself. He can do it again.