Page 11 of Hell-Bound (Pacts of the Infernal #1)

Ren slammed back into consciousness as she felt a sharp pain in her chest.

“Ren, run!”

Jester screamed.

She saw nothing. It was too dark. She sat up—clutching the wound on her chest, feeling the sticky blood seep out.

She heard a high screech before the air became unbearably cold.

“Jester! Where are you?”

she screamed, trying to scramble to her feet.

With a start, Ren drew her dagger and realized that it was glowing with golden light. It cast a reflection in the dark, and she could see Jester crouched down menacingly, his fangs barred, tail swishing.

“Ren, do you see it?”

he shouted, not shifting his eyes in her direction.

She swung around, brandishing The Holy Transgression, and there, in the shadow of its light, she saw a beast. Nine feet tall with a hunched back and one eye. Its mouth was open, dripping with saliva through its serrated teeth.

“Oh, hells.”

From the light of her dagger, the creature’s eye dilated. It stopped and roared so loud that Renata’s teeth chattered, and Jester covered his ears before vanishing.

With no other target, the massive creature lunged for her, using the momentum from its long spindly legs.

Ren’s instincts took over, and she dodged out of the way, her wound throbbing. She spun around, trying to gain her bearings, but if the monster wasn’t in the glow of her light, It was impossible to see.

This time, she caught the sound of shuffling before the shrill screech, and, in a split-second decision, she jolted to the right. She felt the ash from the ground kick up as the beast missed her by inches.

Having lept too far, the beast slammed into the tree. Long blackened twigs fell to the ground, and Ren had to throw her hands up to avoid the onslaught.

“Hey, beasty!”

Jester shouted from a few feet away.

“I thought Ren was the ugliest thing in the forest! Turns out I was wrong!”

She heard the beast shift and run towards the sound.

Jester, what the hell are you doing?

She scrambled around, trying to catch both creature and companion in the dim light. Finally, her light reflected off the beast’s giant eye as it lunged for her.

“Arrgh!”

she bellowed as she vaulted and grabbed onto a hanging tree branch.

The beast snapped at her heels as she kicked out, flailing her legs to knock it back.

While the beast swatted his long claws at Ren, Jester threw himself towards the pair and clawed at its face.

With little effort, the beast shook Jester off, flinging him away. Jester’s thin body flew across the clearing with a momentum that would make any impact potentially deadly. But instantly, the Devil disappeared, only to reappear on his feet.

The creature turned around, eye focusing once again on Ren, believing she, dangling from a tree, was the easiest target.

He wasn’t wrong. Ren’s grip on the branch was precarious, especially considering that she was still holding the dagger. She tried to adjust, pull herself up, but the beast was slashing at her feet, scraping bloody gashes into her legs.

She swung her body forward, kicking the beast squarely in the eye. The creature hissed in pain. Ren used the instant to swing herself and latch her legs onto the branch and began to shimmy towards the tree’s massive trunk, the friction of which made every injury smart.

The beast began to toss its head from side to side, searching for its prey. Once spotted, it clawed at Ren, who was now upright and balanced on the thick branch. It lashed out but overreached, giving her the perfect opportunity to graze the side of its abdomen with the dagger.

It roared with pain, its flesh sizzling an angry red where her dagger struck. The scent of the melting flesh assaulted her nostrils.

Before Ren could stab the creature again, she saw a rock fly towards it.

“Come this way, you big brute,”

she heard Jester’s voice from the thicket.

“No don’t—”

But Ren couldn’t finish her sentence. The creature turned its body and barreled towards Jester.

Ren lost sight as it launched itself away from her light.

Dammit. I need a better vantage.

Maybe if she brought the dagger higher, she thought, she could shed more light. She lifted the light over her head and found angled branches above. She reached up, trying to ignore the pain in her abdomen, and pulled herself to the next branch. She repeated the movement until she was several feet higher. She crouched on the branch, still able to hear the crawling and shrieking, but luckily, there were no painful yells from Jester.

Her tunic was soaked with blood, and she could feel it dribbling down to wet her trousers. Renata knew that she would lose consciousness soon if she didn’t get the wound closed.

She lifted the dagger in front of her, desperately trying to adjust her eyes to the dark. As she did, she saw Jester walking backward as if to lure the creature toward her tree.

It was Ren’s turn to smirk.

Clever.

“Come here, big boy. That’s it, get you some tasty Devil meat.”

The creature lunged, and Jester twirled to vanish—expecting the creature to aim for him. Instead, the creature, who had caught sight of Ren, swung a thrashing arm towards the tree.

Jester, unaware of the change in trajectory, lost his balance as the creature swung back for a second blow and sliced him across the stomach. The Devil wailed in agony—and vanished.

“Jester!”

Ren screamed, matching the volume of the frustrated creature snarling angrily, maw dripping with fresh blood.

She brandished the dagger frantically, trying to see where Jester had appeared, but all she could see was a dark puddle of blood on the ground.

Swinging its head toward her light, the grotesque thing bored its knife-like nails into the trunk of Ren’s tree and climbed.

She looked up, desperate to give herself more distance, but there was nowhere else to go—no way the next few branches could take her weight. The creature, with its gargantuan claws, didn’t need to balance on branches as Renata did. It only needed to slam his dagger-like talons into the trunk.

She shimmied herself to the edge of the branch, hoping it would hold and praying that there was another tree close enough to jump to.

Then she heard him. A low moan from below the tree.

“Ren. Please.”

A gurgle and an unmistakable choking sound.

That sound—it was so familiar to her. The music of death and suffering that Ren had heard so often that it was seared into her mind. The echo of words that would eventually turn garbled before…silence.

Ren turned, eyes burning with fury. She didn’t feel fear. Didn’t feel pain. Only the red-hot wrath to kill.

The creature was only a few feet away now, pulling itself up by its talons, and as it reached Ren’s branch, she charged, leaping with her dagger clutched in one hand, the other used to grab onto the beast’s skull before thrusting the blade fully into its eye.

With a terrible shriek, it thrashed and roared as black pus streamed down its jaws. Ren felt herself slip. She reached up—and tried to grab the low-hanging branches, but her fingers, slick with blood, couldn’t clasp.

She fell.

Ren screamed, closed her eyes, and felt the air on her skin as she plummeted to what would surely be death. Release after the inevitable impact and crunching of bone.

Instead, she felt a jerk on her torso as pain shot through her open wound, and a fresh gush of blood dribbled down her stomach.

Fighting through the pain, she opened her eyes and saw that she was not falling but flying. Held by two arms that ended in nightmarish claws.

His face—his monstrous face. Hair flying, he was no longer stoic and regal. This creature was all Devil.

Azur.

He pulsed with power. Every emotion emanating off his body in a tornado of passionate fury.

And his wings. She had never seen anything so terrifying. Massive and black, ending in harsh points, accentuated with monstrous barbs.

When he landed, the entire forest rumbled.

He set her down gently, but she collapsed, unable to stand. He looked momentarily as if he would reach for her but decided better and pushed off the ground into the air.

The creature was still wailing in the tree, writhing in pain as it slowly slid to the ground.

When Azur reached it, he drove his two razor-sharp claws into its side so deep that they disappeared within its insides. In one quick jerk, he shredded the creature into pieces, and Ren had to cover her head as viscera rained down upon her.

He was heaving, chest rising and falling with his rasping breaths. He was shirtless, muscles soaked in sweat and blood, wings having apparently shredded any remnants of his tunic. They were stretched wide in a glorious and terrifying show of dominance and power. His eyes were wild, and his hair whipped about him despite the lack of wind. His sharp features looked as if they were smoldering, cheeks like coal that emanated smoke. The smoke was absorbing all the light from her dagger, which he held firmly in his right hand. He tossed it aside unceremoniously and landed beside her.

“Nice trinket,”

he remarked in a voice even deeper than the one she was used to hearing.

“Jester! What happened to Jester?”

was her stammering response.

The Devil bent down to eye level, and a chill of fear raced through her body. His face, now close, was beastlike and radiating fiery tendrils.

“You’re in shock. I need to take you with me. Wyvryn will have to wait,”

he grunted, moving to pick her up.

She swiped him away.

“Stop, no! Don’t touch me! I won’t leave without Jester!”

He froze, dropping his arms.

“Jester will be fine. He has the power to teleport and has already returned to my domain. Devils heal more quickly than Mortals, even ones who are Half-Elven. You need immediate medical magic, which I can’t do here.”

She reached for her chest and made a sharp inhale. Renata knew that she would die from her wounds if she wasn’t immediately tended to, but Ren remained motionless.

“So, may I take you now?”

he asked, an eyebrow raised impatiently and a voice like gravel.

She nodded, swallowing.

“I need you to say it, Ren. Azur, you can take me.”

She looked him over, perplexed. This Devil owned her. And now he was asking to save her?

“Azur, you can take me,”

she whispered.

He gave a nod and gingerly lifted her to cradle in his arms. With a start, she realized that she felt safe there as her whole body instantly relaxed.

Must be the shock.

He pulled her closer.

Despite the ichor and gore, he smelled amazingly like parchment and roses. As he took off, she could feel his strong arms adjust to her comfort, avoiding her tender wound. She drifted off to her first restful sleep in The Hells.

???

Ren woke up with a start. Sitting up in what turned out to be a small bed, she found herself in a modest room under the softest sheets she had ever felt. Her body hummed with contentment, demanding that she lay back down.

She pulled at the neck of a silk nightshirt to examine the deep wound underneath.

When did I put this on?

But the wound was gone. All that remained was a thin red line, evidence of her failed adventure with Jester. This scar, unlike the one on her arm, was a memory, a new one.

“Pa-leaaase don’t undress in front of me. You know how much it makes me uncomfortable.”

Her head shot up.

“Jester, you’re all right!”

The Devil was sitting beside her bed, another book in hand. She could have sworn she saw a small change in the color of his red cheeks.

“They fixed me up good, that’s for sure. I do have a question for you, though.”

Ren breathed out, relieved.

“Sure, I’m just glad you’re not dead.”

“Of that, we can agree on,”

he nodded excitedly.

“But Ren, how is it that,”

his tone changed.

“you could be so incredibly dense as to play music in the forest of Nahmir!”

Ren was shocked.

“I…didn’t think I was playing very loud and—I couldn’t sleep—”

“Do you know what happens to people if they die before fulfilling their contracts? Hmm? They turn into sleepers!”

he yelled.

She clamped her mouth shut, embarrassed. It was her turn to flush deep red.

“Jester...I’m sorry. But look, no one tells me anything! I’m floundering here! I barely have memories, and my sense of danger is part of that, I think.”

The Devil breathed out slowly, calming himself.

“You have to be more careful! I’m too pretty to be an emotionless husk! And I’m sure Azur wouldn’t be wild about the idea—at least not before we finish our errand. Just use that brain of yours next time,”

he said, pointing to his temple and crossing his eyes.

“Maybe keep that instrument stored for a while.”

Ren felt her disappointment manifest.

Wait.

“Where is it? Where’s my piccolo?”

she sputtered, panicked.

Jester pointed to her side table. Whole and uninjured lay her precious piccolo.

“Calm down, Elfy. It’s your contract, remember? It can never be away from you, and it can never be broken.”

A twinge of discomfort. She hadn’t even thought about how breaking her contract might also mean breaking her piccolo. Ren opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by a groan from Jester.

Tendrils of smoke were rising from his palms and from behind his head.

“Gotta run, buddy. I’m being summoned.”

And with that, he vanished, but not before the smokey substance began rising off of her own body.

Ren, we need to talk.

Well, that isn’t foreboding.

In truth, Lord Azur, such-and-such of handsome stupid-land, wasn’t who she wanted to see, but she supposed she owed him at least a conversation after last night.

Before she could respond to him, she was, once again, standing in front of Azur’s desk.

She shivered as she was still only in a thin, silken nightdress, the sensitive buds of her chest pebbling. Ren stubbornly didn’t move to cover herself.

“Geez, can’t you give a girl two minutes to get dressed?”

Azur, sitting behind his desk, gave a momentary start before regaining his composure. He was again the symbol of poise—wings stored and immaculately dressed.

“Pity about your injury,”

he said lazily.

“a scar down your chest? And they were so perfect before.”

He returned his attention to a paper on his desk.

Despite herself, she crossed her arms, finally feeling exposed at his shameless reference.

“Did you need something? Or am I to stand here all day freezing my ass off?”

He gave a wry smile.

“As much as I’d love to discuss your ass, we have business to attend to. Now that you are healed, I need you and Jester to return to the forest of Nahmir and complete your mission. But first, what is that?”

His eyes moved to The Holy Transgression, which was lying on his desk amongst the piles of papers.

Ren’s throat became very dry.

“It’s just a weapon—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

He stood up from his desk and leaned in, fangs bared, threatening.

“Fine.”

She steadied herself.

“It was given to me as a defense against Devils who might try to harm me. Nothing more.”

His red eyes locked on her face as if trying to read her. He reached for the dagger and clutched it in one hand. His eyes darkened, and his hand slowly changed into a monstrous talon. He squeezed, and with what looked like very little effort, the dagger shattered, pieces littering the floor.

“You will never bring a holy relic of Nainaur into my presence again,”

he growled.

She just stood, stupefied. He had just destroyed what she thought was a gift from a god.

“Well, now you’ve done it!”

she barked, exasperated.

“How am I going to protect myself!”

He moved in a flash, stopping right in front of her and looking down through long black eyelashes.

“Oh, my sweet Ren, haven’t you realized it yet? The King of The Hells would never let anything happen to you. You are too precious to me,”

he stroked a menacing claw slowly down her cheek, a gentle caress.

“The King of The Hells? Why does he care about me?”

This time, Azur opened his mouth, shocked. He bellowed a laugh.

“Sweet innocent, Ren! Did you not know who I was? I am your king.”

Ren took a step back.

“You’re the King of The Hells?”

She put the pieces together. Xarek terrified of her and mentioning the risk of summoning Pelegros.

“You not only belong to a Devil, but you belong to the lord of all Devils,”

he said, spreading his arms wide.

“The most egregious and sinful of them all. Congratulations.”

I am so fucked. What did you do, Renata?

“I usually demand my charges to bow to me, but I find disingenuous loyalty bothersome. I’d rather bask in your proud stubbornness—Your lust, your wrath. It does delight me so.”

He winked.

“I do not lust after you!”

she fumbled.

Another laugh.

“Ren, you reveal too much of yourself. I never mentioned me.”

He cocked his head to the side.

“But it isn’t surprising. Most females can’t contain themselves. I am the god of lust. I created it.”

Suddenly breathless, she searched her mind for a way to change the subject.

“A…god?”

“Yes, your Mortal god hides away, only getting involved when they feel like it. I, on the other hand, prefer a more…intimate approach.”

“Well, Your Highness,”

she barreled on in an attempt to not think about the consequences of talking back to a god.

“as safe as I feel about you jumping to my rescue every time, you’ve told me you can’t enter Wyvryn’s domain, and you’ve broken my only means of protection. Not to mention that if I hadn’t had it, I would have been long dead before you honored us with your presence.”

His eyes flashed threateningly, but his smirk remained. He stood at his full height and adjusted his silk vest.

“You make a good point, my dear.”

A clank and two daggers fell at her feet.

“These are real weapons. They won’t just burn a creature of The Hells. They will incapacitate it. While you could kill it, I know your expertise is more in hiding and sneaking. Whoever gave you that other plaything was an imbecile.”

She bent to pick them up.

“Now that’s what I want. Willing submission at my feet. Though I’d much prefer you on your knees.”

She grumbled, righting herself.

“Absolutely not. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Azur shrugged his shoulders coyly and returned to his desk.

“Darling, I’m the king of pride and lust. Self-congratulation is literally in the job title. Now run along, Ren. I have a great deal of work to do, and you have something of mine to recover.”

And before she could retort, she was standing in a clearing in the Forest of Nahmir.