Page 37 of Enchantra (Wicked Games #2)

36

HELL

March 25

I’m going to Hell today. Ha.

Also, you’ll find that I’ve scratched out the previous entry. I don’t hate Rowington Silver.

I hate how easily he gets under my skin. How hard it seems to be for him not to keep secrets. How, unfortunately, we have that in common.

And, most of all, I hate that the idea of going to Hell with him seems fun. A year ago I would never have written such a ludicrous sentence.

I don’t think I know this new version of me. So maybe going to Hell will be a good place to start looking for her.

X, Genevieve

Genevieve wasn’t sure how one was supposed to dress to go to Hell, but pink was a fitting color for any occasion. She’d put her hair half up with a golden comb and dabbed some powder over her face in hopes that it would dull the shiny, angry scar. It did not.

The gown she’d chosen was a perfect shade of mauve, with a sweetheart neckline and embroidered butterflies over the glistening fabric.

She gave a small twirl. “How do I look?”

Rowin flicked his gaze over her, slowly. “Like you do not belong in Hell.”

“Perfect,” she said. “That’s the sort of style I was going for—an Angel who got lost.”

“I wouldn’t say you look angelic either.”

She gave him a grin. “Is Umbra coming with us?”

“Umbra doesn’t enjoy Hell very much,” he said. “She’s become spoiled.”

Genevieve tilted her head. “Where does she go, by the way? When she isn’t around?”

“She’s always around, in the shadows, you just don’t see her. I don’t like to keep her on a string like some of the others, if that’s what you mean. Familiars are part of their host’s soul. We can recall them within us whenever we’d like.”

Midnight tolled then, and they strolled to the ballroom together. Genevieve with a spring in her step and Rowin with an amused smile.

When Knox appeared, Rowin had the token ready.

“We want access to the Hellmouth,” Rowin told Knox.

The Devil dipped his chin in a nod. “Very well. I’ll meet you in the study.”

Rowin led Genevieve out right away, leaving the other four to finish the choosing ceremony alone. When she glanced over her shoulder at the rest of them on the way out, Sevin threw her a wink.

“When we get there, do not look anyone in the eyes, understood?” Rowin said as he led her to the study. “The beings that hang out around Hellmouths are not ones you want to associate with.”

“It’s probably hard to believe, Rowington Silver,” she crooned as they pushed their way into the room, “but no beings in Hell are ones I want to associate with. I’m only going with you out of pure boredom and a touch of curiosity.”

“Well, save your curiosity for when we get to Knox’s estate.”

“Is that where we’re going?”

“Yes, it’s where my family resides when we’re in Hell,” he explained. “Knox’s residence is in the Third Circle—Greed.”

Salem and Ophelia would not believe she was about to do this.

“Hello, my lovebirds,” Knox’s voice greeted them before he fully manifested in the room. “Taking a little romp through Hell today?”

“We don’t need the small talk,” Rowin told the Devil.

“Touchy.” Knox smirked. “Looking forward to a tearful reunion with your mother? And then there are your brothers, of course…”

“Oh,” Genevieve realized. “Wells and Remi will be there?”

“Yes,” Knox informed her. “Wellington just returned from an errand of mine this morning, actually. Much quicker than I assumed. But I won’t bore you with business . Are you excited to see how the Other Side lives?”

“I’m excited to get out of this fucking house,” she answered cheerily.

Knox stepped up to the swirling black portal in the back of the room, and she watched with rapt attention as he reached into the inky abyss, whispering something under his breath, and turned it a ghostly shade of blue.

“After you,” Knox said, tone firm.

Rowin reached down and threaded his hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he pulled her toward the entrance to Hell.

“Deep breath and close your eyes,” he told her.

She obeyed, squeezing them as tight as she could while he gently tugged her forward. The portal felt like it was made of a thick gelatin, and Genevieve could only hope it would not ruin her hair or dress. The power around her was unmistakable, and for a moment fear crept into her bones, her fight-or-flight instincts emerging as they sensed danger nearby. Rowin only squeezed her hand tighter.

Then it was over.

“Open your eyes.”

She did, waiting for them to adapt to the dark around them. The first thing she saw was Rowin—and she gasped when she took in his appearance. The tattoos inked across all his skin were now alive . She’d always thought the swirling lines looked like shadows or wisps of smoke, and now they writhed around his exposed forearms as if they really were.

“Whoa,” she whispered as she brushed her fingertips on the ones curling around his throat. “How?—?”

“Infernal Ink,” he told her. “It comes to life in Hell.”

“Fascinating,” she murmured.

Knox stepped out of the portal behind them then.

“Your deadline here is noon,” the Devil said to them as he waved a hand in their direction.

Genevieve watched in horror as glowing, violet cuffs appeared on each of her wrists.

“If you even think about trying to stay a second longer, these will drag you back. And it will not be fun,” Knox threatened them both before shifting his attention solely on Genevieve. “You’re leading the vote for Favored by leaps and bounds, Mrs. Silver. That little romp in my enchanted forest caused quite a stir.” His tone was approving.

“When do you announce the winner?” she asked.

“Before the final round,” Knox said. “When you arrive at my estate, remind me to show you something.”

Before Genevieve could ask what he meant, he blinked out of sight.

“Come on,” Rowin told her. “We need to catch the ferry.”

Genevieve began to soak in their surroundings as he led her forward. They’d stepped out into an alleyway that opened into some sort of outdoor market or village. The buildings were mostly gray, the ground beneath their feet made of cobblestones. A starless night sky stretched above them. It was precisely what she thought Hell might look like. Gray and boring. Except for the people. The myriad of beings roaming past the alley were surprisingly colorful, draped in jewel tones and adorned with gems.

“Apulchra adomin, epulchra icapill,” a grating voice rasped from down the alley.

Genevieve startled as Rowin shifted his body toward her, his stance protective. She’d completely missed the little Demon at first. They must have been about three feet tall, with grayish skin that blended in with the wall where they leaned. When they moved, however, their complexion warmed instantly into something more human, and their hair grew longer in seconds, shifting to a mundane shade of brown. She knew Rowin had told her not to look at anyone they might meet, but she couldn’t help it as she watched the angles of their face morph into something softer, their eyes going from black to a light shade of blue. They almost looked like a regular, plain mortal now—some sort of demonic chameleon.

“What did they say?” she asked Rowin.

“Oh, mortal ,” the Demon rasped in English as they stepped forward, their pointed teeth dripping with saliva as they licked their lips. “Pretty lady, pretty hair. Pretty eyes .”

Gross.

Rowin bared his teeth. “Take another step and I’ll rip your head off your shoulders.”

“I want her eyes,” the stranger whined as they watched Genevieve hungrily. “I don’t have that color yet.”

At that last statement, the Demon’s irises flickered through a rainbow of colors, and Genevieve’s stomach began to turn at the idea that all their features had been stolen from others.

“Touch her. I dare you,” Rowin snarled.

The Demon turned to Rowin, as if checking to see how serious he was. If looks could kill, they would have dropped dead immediately. Seeming to realize the danger, they slunk back to the side, giving Rowin and Genevieve space to pass.

Rowin wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her to his other side, putting as much distance between her and the Demon as possible. He walked them toward the end of the alley. Rowin didn’t take his eyes off them for a second as he strode by, and Genevieve didn’t relax until they were less than two feet from the exit.

The moment the sigh of relief left her lips was precisely when the Demon struck.

Genevieve cried out as a clawed hand grasped her hair from behind.

In a split second, Rowin had the being pinned by the throat against the wall. She didn’t understand how he’d possibly moved that fast, but then she noticed how his arms and hands were now completely made of shadows, slowly solidifying back into their normal state as he grinned down at the squirming Demon.

“If you were looking to part with your life that badly, you could have just asked,” Rowin snarled.

“No!” they cried as they clawed at Rowin’s hold. “I just wanted her eyes! One will do. I won’t take any more. Please don’t?—”

Genevieve cringed at the sound of bones and tendons snapping as Rowin ripped the Demon’s head from their neck, as promised. She glanced away as he dropped both the head and corpse to the ground with a sickening thud.

Rowin turned back to her, looking down at his hands and grimacing at the black sludge that covered them. “Let’s go,” he said. “I need to find a place to wash up.”

She gaped at him. “Was that truly necessary? Are you not concerned about getting in trouble?”

He smirked at her in amusement. “We’re in Hell. This is just a regular night. And, yes, it was necessary. Not following through on threats here makes the predators too bold. Remember that.”

“Ugh,” she let out, but didn’t protest further as he guided her from the alley. She was surprised to find how large the street was when they stepped into the fray. All sorts of shops lined either side, leading to what looked to be a town square that reminded her of the Quarter. Everywhere she looked was a sight she’d never seen before. There was a place advertising fresh blood on its sign outside, another offering to polish the skulls of your loved ones. She peeked into other alleyways as they passed and saw everything from people fucking against walls like animals to people bathing an…ostrich?

“What in the world?” she asked as she spotted a Demon lathering up the large bird.

“Perfect,” Rowin muttered, as if there was nothing odd about the scene.

He led her over to the Demon and the ridiculous-looking animal. She watched as he borrowed the hose to wash the Demon blood from his hands, trying to convince herself she wasn’t once again passed out in Enchantra, having a fever dream.

The ostrich tilted its head at her. She eyed it back suspiciously.

Why would anyone need an ostrich in Hell?

She must’ve spoken the words aloud because the Demon patted the ugly bird on its bald head and answered, “Mouse here eats the mice around my shop for me.”

Genevieve raised her brows. “You named your mice-eating bird Mouse ?”

The man shrugged. “Kept it simple.”

“Mm-hmm,” was all she managed to respond. The ostrich glared at her.

As Rowin took care of the blood on his hands, Genevieve peered over at the shop next door. There was some sort of odd blue substance leaking onto the ground along the front facade from the old wooden gutters. The smell was sickly sweet, and when Genevieve tilted her head back to read the sign that said Poison and Potion , she spotted puffs of blue and purple smoke coming from a chimney above.

Genevieve glanced over at Rowin, still scrubbing at the blood on his hands, then inched toward the shop. Pushing her way through the front door, a bell tinkled in the air above to announce her arrival. There was no one inside that she could see, just shelves and shelves of different colored liquids in small glass vials. All of them had labels—all in languages she couldn’t read without Knox’s magic.

“Genevieve?” an unfamiliar voice gasped, followed by something in a language Genevieve didn’t understand.

Genevieve turned to see a woman with wine-colored hair and a choker made of teeth.

“It is you,” she exclaimed, switching to English before hurrying toward the shop door and yanking it open. “Mathilde! Astoria!”

Genevieve tried to turn herself invisible, but as she flickered in and out, she realized Knox’s cuffs wouldn’t allow her magic to work properly. It was too late anyway as the redhead and two other women, who must be Mathilde and Astoria, were already swarming her.

“I’m Gladys,” the redhead said. “This is Mathilde and Astoria.”

She pointed to her friends in turn. Genevieve was rather certain Mathilde was a Vampire, judging by the size of her fangs, while Gladys and Astoria were some sort of Demon, but it was hard to tell.

“We just adore you and Rowin together,” Gladys gushed. “I’ve bet on you the entire time. I knew Rowin wouldn’t marry a mortal if they were useless.”

“Astoria didn’t think you’d survive after that first round,” Mathilde said.

“I changed my mind when you dove in after Umbra,” Astoria defended herself. “I didn’t think you were anything special at first. But we love Umbra. She and Sapphire are our favorites of the Familiars.”

“Is the sex with Rowin incredible?” Mathilde wondered.

“It certainly looks incredible,” Gladys inserted.

“I’ve always been rather keen on him,” Mathilde sighed dreamily.

“My favorite is Grave.” Astoria grinned. “I want him to hate me like he hates everyone else. All the way through a mattress.”

As they all became enraptured with discussing the details of the Hunt, both past and present, they slipped back into their first language as Genevieve slowly began inching away.

Genevieve made a break for the door and pushed her way outside. Rowin was just finishing up.

“Thanks for your help,” Rowin told the man with the ostrich.

“Did you know we have fans ?” she said. “Because I was just ambushed by a group of them.”

The corners of Rowin’s mouth lifted in amusement. “Of course we have fans. Look at us.”

“Well, yes,” Genevieve allowed as she flicked a piece of her hair over her shoulder. “But it’s strange that they just acted like they knew me. Is this how it is for all of you here all the time? I mean, even before you stopped coming.” She rushed to say the last bit.

“When you provide any sort of entertainment for people, some of them start looking at you as a commodity. They treat you in the way they think you deserve based on how well you entertain them. It’s another reason I started staying away from this place.”

Genevieve gave his hand a comforting squeeze. He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against her knuckles.

“Are we going straight to Knox’s estate?” she wondered.

He shook his head. “There’s a place I need to stop at before we catch the ferry.”

The little store he brought them to was a dream . The outside wasn’t much to look at, but inside it was mesmerizing. Everywhere she looked something glittered, and lining the walls were glass cases filled with rare gemstones and trinkets.

The woman asked Rowin something from behind a counter in the same language the women at the potion shop had spoken, a smile on her cherry lips as she gave them an assessing look.

Rowin walked over, waving at Genevieve to look around as he bent his head toward the woman and whispered something. Genevieve watched him closely for a moment, but soon something sparkly caught her eye in one of the cases. Several minutes later, the saleswoman brought out a box from the back, and Rowin slipped something that looked like gold coins into her hand before turning for the door.

“Ready?” he asked.

She eyed the box as she dipped her chin at him. “Knox’s estate now?”

Rowin nodded in answer. “It’s time to pay a visit to my mother.”