Page 3 of Dormeo

ASH

T here’s a thrum of excitement flowing through the corridors as I stalk back toward my room.

The gates of hell operate like a hive, this giant building is a warren of corridors and dark corners, filled with the minions of my father, whooperate on a hierarchy ranging from royalty, like me, at the top, then the upper-level demons, all the way down to the most primitive beasts who we use to torture those that deserve it.

And like any tight knit community, living in close quarters, it’s impossible to keep anything secret.

Voices whisper from the hidden shadows of our huge castle.

It’s half cut into the side of the cliff face, shaped from dense rock, roughly hewn rooms providing shelter for all those who protect the gate itself.

The other half was built on top, in the same black rock, but with some light allowed to filter through.

It’s a fortress, built to protect the lowest level where only a few are allowed to go.

Me, my father, and his most trusted enforcers.

As I stride through the dim hallways, I hear murmurs of interest and curse. I knew it was too much to hope that this would be kept quiet. Demons care about only three things: food, fighting, and fucking, all at the same time, preferably, but tonight, there’s a buzz in the air.

For once, I pray it’s another battle with the supernaturals from the human realm who resent our punishment of their indiscretions, or perhaps a succubus, teasing the male demons who outnumber the women here, almost ten to one. They always cause a fuss.

Yet, this feels different. I know exactly what this is about. The hair stands up along my neck, and my senses go on high alert as I stride through the palace that should become mine to rule one day.

Finally reaching the long hallway to my room, I’m irritated to see three lesser demons milling about near the entrance, confirming my suspicions. They might pretend they’re waiting for me to return, with a list of problems to resolve for them, but I know what’s really drawn them here.

Her.

The only being I’m happy to see is Barghest, the hellhound who ‘happily’ stalks the darkest corners of hell and takes absolutely no shit.

Everyone knows better than to piss him off.

He sits on his haunches, guarding my door, red and yellow flames licking over his chest coat.

And with the eerie shadows they cast across the stone floor, everyone stays back.

“Gentleman, what has you loitering outside my quarters at this ungodly hour?”

Startled by my sudden appearance, despite this being my inner sanctum, they jump back and blink up at me, looking confused.

Silence stretches on, and my patience wears thin. “Answer me, before I volunteer your services to my father to test his latest pet.”

Known for being ever creative with his methods of torture, my father takes great pride in his work. And practice makes perfect, especially when he decides to try something new.

“Rumour has it he’s sourced a vengeful dragon from the Nordics that likes to skewer its prey and roast them like a kebab with its fire before eating them alive.”

The diminutive red creatures before me, small but vicious, with narrow pointed teeth, baulk at the idea of being fed to the latest monster to join my father’s menagerie.

Speaking in dark Latin tongues, they jabber on, putting the blame on each other, shouldering and jabbing, with long, narrow fingers, even as they inch closer to my door again. Slamming a hand against the wall to block their way, I force their attention back to me.

“So, you don’t even know why you’re here?

That’s the kind of incompetence I’m dealing with.

” I cut through the din, not having the energy or the inclination to deal with these inbred abominations.

Useful for death and destruction only, they’re not the smartest, but they follow orders and don’t ask questions. “Scram. There’s nothing for you here.”

Reluctantly, they melt back into the shadows, something covetous gleaming in their beady black eyes.

Without looking away from their retreating forms, I curl my hand around the black wrought iron door handle and push inside, Barghest hot on my heels. They may be smaller, but they’re governed by instinct, and three of them together could be a threat if they wanted something badly enough.

My hellhound companion immediately moves to the roaring fire and curls up in front of it on a black fur rug, his fearsome muzzle resting on his paws as he watches and waits. Just like me, he feels danger coming.

“They’ll be back. Get Bronx to help with the night watch for the next two weeks.”

A slow blink is the only acknowledgment I get that he’s heard my words, but it’s enough. Barghest has always been a loyal guard, not only to me, but to whoever needs it in this dark, deranged place.

If we have collateral to keep safe, he’ll do his duty to the last.

Rolling up my sleeves, I scan the expansive living area but see no sign of her . She could be hiding. She wouldn’t be the first human to squeeze themselves into some tight spot, hoping to avoid their fate.

I have no idea why they think that will help them in the long run, but it's an innate survival response they can’t seem to suppress, even if it will only buy them a few extra minutes.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you… yet .” I taunt, my curiosity piqued by the calm, steady heartbeat I can hear.

But she’s not terrified. Far from it. In fact, she seems relaxed and at ease.

Intriguing.

“Where the fuck are you?” I mutter to myself, getting annoyed at her defiance.

The last thing I need is to damage this fragile human in a rage and listen to my father berating me.

That could be the very point of this entire exercise.

He could have sent the imps to distract me while he ensured my failure.

There’s nothing I wouldn’t put past him.

Which is why I’ll be relieved when these two weeks are over, and I can return the troublesome human to her father, or give her to the devil, depending on what her fate turns out to be.

Coming to a stop in front of two heavy, dark wooden doors, I rest my hands against a set of intricate bronze doorknobs and push. As the doors widen, I step into the room and curse, staring at the scene in front of me.

For once, I’m stumped on how to proceed. My human charge is here alright, tucked up in my bed, sound asleep.

“They don’t usually sleep when they first arrive in hell,” I comment as Barghest trots to my side, his lethal claws tapping on stone as he walks. “Normally, they’re far too scared to even close their eyes.”

And rightly so.

There’s no lingering scent of blood in the air, and I don’t detect the recent presence of any malevolent beings. She’s definitely asleep rather than dying.

Slightly offended, I remain frozen in place, stunned that such a delicate being is willing to leave themselves so exposed.

“Come on, sleeping beauty. Wake up. I don’t know who told you this was a good idea, but you’re not sleeping in my fucking bed.”

Silence.

“GET UP.”

My shout echoes around the room, but still, the tiny human doesn’t stir.

Barghest looks at me, concerned, so I walk further into the room, preparing myself for the ear-piercing scream she’s guaranteed to make when she wakes to find me looming over her.

But still, she doesn’t move.

My unwelcome guest lies on her back, hands folded demurely on her stomach, and long blonde waves resting perfectly over her slim shoulders. Fully clothed, a thin sheet covers her body, secured neatly under her armpits. She’s been posed like this.

This isn’t a woman who decided to go for a nap all by herself and tuck herself in.

“What the hell is this?” I demand, to nobody in particular, and Barghest growls, as if to say how the fuck would he know.

Groaning in annoyance, I lean closer and listen to her vitals. Her heart is strong, and her lungs are working well. She’s not injured, so why isn’t she waking up when a deadly demon is standing right beside her, shouting at her?

Something else is at play here.

“Bring Gaap here,” I order, and Barghest hurries from the room, sparks dancing in his wake as the massive hellhound runs straight through the closed door, his form turning ghostlike for a moment as he passes through the solid mass.

It’s creepy. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing him do that, but it's very useful in a pinch.

Once he’s gone, I inch closer to Miss Rose Farly. She’s pretty, with full lips and a small, dainty nose. Her blonde hair is full and shiny, the colour of golden straw.

Her father was right to be worried. There isn’t a demon here that wouldn’t relish the chance to corrupt her.

If you looked up the definition of innocence, this woman would be right there.

I growl, breathing her scent deep, and hating how appealing it is.

But behind the delicious smell, there’s something bitter that irritates my nose. Magic. Dark magic at that.

She does not belong in this place, and anger at her father’s selfishness bubbles up inside me once more.

“Oh my, what a gift you have been given.” Gaap announces his arrival in husky low tones, a wicked sparkle in his eyes, as he comes to stand on the opposite side of my giant, four-poster bed.

“She’s not mine. And certainly not yours.”

This is not a human dumped here to have some fun with before we discard them to the afterlife.

Gaap’s hand lifts, and he hovers his fingers above the pale, delicate skin of her inner arm. He wants to touch her.

Reaching out, I slap his hand away, and he frowns, looking at the offending appendage like he had no idea it had moved. It’s a compulsion I can empathise with. There’s something about her.

“This one needs to go back in one piece.”

There’s something different about Gaap when he finally drags his gaze away from the woman lying on the bed. Something almost adoring. Unusual for a man with such a fuck them and leave them attitude.

“And she will, but there’s nothing to say we can’t make the most of her stay with us. Let her have some fun that she'll be able to remember for the rest of her boring life.”

Gaap’s eyes have turned black, and despite the fact he was getting his cock serviced by someone else only minutes ago, I can feel the lust rolling off him.

He wants her. And I don’t like it.

“She’s unconscious. You’re not fucking someone who’s out cold.” I might turn a blind eye to lots of depraved things on a daily basis, but I like my partners willing, or preferably, begging.

Gaap shakes his head but smiles at me, a devious glint in his eye.

“Not me, you . She is yours to play with,” he assures me, despite the cloying envy I can feel coming from him in waves.

“You don’t have to stick your cock in her to have fun, although I’m sure that would be nice too.

You’ve been cooped up down here for too long, brother.

” Tapping the side of his head with one claw, he sighs, disappointed he has to spell it out for me.

“Use your imagination. Or rather, hers. If she’s going to be asleep for her entire stay, you may as well give her some interesting dreams. And reap the benefits. ”

It’s been a long time since I used my dream walking powers. All upper-level demons possess the ability to invade a person’s sleep, drawing power from the strong sexual emotions we can evoke by merely pushing certain images at them.

In hell, death and pain are used by most demons to draw power from the fear and anguish it creates.

Incubi have a much less traumatic means of using humans to recharge their batteries: lust.

By visiting the human realm, and their prey in erotic dreams, they feed on the arousal it creates, so when the human wakes up, there’s a smile on their face. It’s a win-win, provided nobody gets caught.

“She’s strong, I can feel it. I can taste it in the air. You lucky thing. With her locked away in your chambers like this, she’s like your own personal power supply.”