Page 13 of Hell-Bound (Pacts of the Infernal #1)

Alas, I am incapable of good or selflessness. Trying only leads to the inevitable pain and tragedy I wrought upon The Planes. I cannot deny that it is a part of every cell in my Immortal body.

Spots appeared in her vision. Renata Eldanuer.

My name.

She clutched the letter in her hands, wrinkling the edges slightly. Another Devil, Xarek, knew about her. More than she knew about her. Knew her name—had been writing about her.

Hands sweating, Renata shoved the page into her pocket.

I have to get out of here.

Plonk! Plonk! Plonk went the heavy tomes as they hit the floor.

Find the document and run.

Mind reeling, Ren continued her clumsy search and, barely thinking, grabbed the pristine violin from the table.

A shot of anxiety went through her as she saw that underneath lay a thinly bound book with a black symbol of a Devil on it.

Azur’s symbol.

She grabbed it, one hand still holding the violin.

“Jester, I–”

A tremor shocked the room as more tomes tumbled from their resting places and antiques clinked against glass.

Jester whipped his head towards his companion.

“What did you do this time?”

he barked.

The tremor got stronger, and it was all Ren could do to avoid dropping the instrument.

“Damn it all!”

Jester bellowed, disappearing before the study door slammed open, four guards running in with swords and spears.

Reacting swiftly, Ren ducked under the desk as two spears were hurled at her head.

“I’m sorry I can’t take you with my gorgeous friend,”

she whispered to the violin as she moved it deeper under the stonework and shoved the marked document into the back of her pants.

The guards rounded on her as she sprang up, landing on the desk smoothly and grabbing a dagger out of her belt.

The desk separated her and two of the guards, who were swinging their short swords wildly. Ren was right out of their reach, but needed to move fast.

The other two guards, now spearless, were engaged with Jester as he jumped from each of their shoulders, disappearing before they could grab hold. They slipped and fell toward their counterparts as they tried desperately to grapple him.

“Arrrrgh,”

bellowed the guard closest to Ren—a red-skinned female Lesser Devil—as she threw herself on the desk, her black armor clanking loudly.

Ren shuffled back, avoiding her lunge, but she had no more space to move. On one side of the desk was a wall, and on the other, a back window that looked out on a ten-story drop to the courtyard.

“Jester, a little help!”

she shouted as the red Devil closed in, sword aimed at her chest.

“Xarek is gonna have so much fun with you, pretty thing,”

she chuckled darkly.

The shock of emotion that wasn’t exclusively fear went all the way to her feet at the mention of his name.

Ren steadied herself, trying to time her next move, when the second Devil, a male, skidded to the other side of the desk. She had no space to dodge as he threw himself at her, successfully wrapping two large arms around her waist and knocking her off her feet.

To her horror, she felt the small booklet slip from her waistband as her body slammed into the stone. The male held her tightly as the red Devil approached, a short sword raised to strike. But as she struck down with the sword, her movement shifted.

Jester had appeared just in time to give a hard shove. This slight loss of equilibrium caused her to miss Ren’s head and jam her sword into the stone desk, sparks flying. The male, with his powerful grapple, averted his eyes. A brief disruption gave Ren the perfect opening to bring her leg up hard against his crotch, loosening his grip as he doubled up in pain.

Ren spun out from under him right as the red Devil jumped forward, dismounting the desk, and thrust her weapon in her direction. Ren, now with more space to move, was able to easily dodge the advances, but she knew that her distance moved her further and further away from her quarry.

Jester, now behind Ren, was still engaged with the other two weaponless guards. But as his giggles indicated, they were mostly trying to unsuccessfully subdue the trickster.

Her combatants had recovered themselves and were closing in on where she stood, giving a few test swipes with their swords—Ren batting them away with her dagger.

As the male guard’s arm pulled back from a swing, Ren spotted the marked booklet lying crumpled behind his heel.

Ren darted low towards her prize, hoping the male would believe she was trying to tackle him to the ground. The male did swing at her but, as she’d hoped, miscalculated his aim. She slid across the floor, grabbed the document, and re-secured it in her trousers.

Still crouched on the floor, she whirled around, trying to ensure that her back never faced her attackers. But the mistake had already been made: the sword of the red-skinned female was coming down upon her.

Ren rolled once more, dodging and hitting the bookshelf, but not before the female’s sword cut a long slice along Ren’s right leg. Hissing, she struggled to a stand and brandished her dagger threateningly. She saw the male fighting with a constantly vanishing Jester, who somehow had managed to incapacitate the others.

“It’s been a while since we’ve gotten a Mortal,”

she crooned, backing Ren into the wall.

“Mortals scream so much louder. Such delicate skin. Makes a nice ripple when—”

Ren didn’t let her finish. She was done listening to Devils. She lashed out swiftly with her dagger, piercing the female’s neck. The Devil, eyes wide, dropped her sword but didn’t reach for her throat. The dagger, as Azur had claimed, froze her in place.

Ren twisted the dagger and bared her teeth as she felt the gush of black blood trickle down her hand before yanking the serrated weapon out. The female Devil collapsed, mouth open as if trying to speak, but could only bring forth the familiar gurgling sounds of blood as it made its way up her windpipe.

Time stopped for Ren. She watched as life faded from the female’s eyes, and she waited. Waited in that timeless spot for shame to hit her. For the feelings of remorse overwhelm her senses, causing her to stumble before regaining herself. Forcing her to compartmentalize this moment of survival before, eventually, the ever-growing knowledge of taking a life assaulted her waking hours with regret.

But it did not come. Instead, she felt…sated. Almost proud of cutting the creature’s life short.

“Time to go, Elfy!”

Jester yelled, appearing before her as he shoved her out of the way from the guard to her right.

“I can get us back, but I can’t portal in here—he had some sort of ward! We need to get outside!”

he yelled.

Renata glanced back at the final guard. His eyes were wild and a little fearful as he menacingly descended upon the two.

In a flash, Ren shoved Jester to the side, sending him crashing through the window before she flung herself out. The wind lashed against her face as she plummeted through the air, hair whipping, eyes watering. But before she could blink them away, she felt a hard tug on her waist and slammed hard into a wooden surface.

Ren and Jester were back at the Denizen’s tower, gasping for air.

Jester was huffing, bleeding from a large wound to his forehead, and trying to prop himself up.

“Don’t cry, Ren,”

he said between gasps.

“I know my…heroics are spectacular—but.”

“Oh, shove it!”

she said, rolling onto her side, breathless.

“Tell the master that we got his damned document.”

“Oh, never call him that. I’d hate to see the glee on his dumb, smug face. He definitely prefers Royal Panty Dropper Supreme!”

The two caught each other’s eyes and smiled. A little delirious from the whole experience—they burst out laughing.

However, the laughter was short-lived, as Renata’s hands and feet started to smoke.

“Ugh. Lord Luscious Lips is calling. Someday, you’ll have to teach me how to do that teleport thing,”

she said with a wink.

“First of all, it takes a lot of magic, something you wouldn’t know anything about, Elfy girl,”

he teased.

But before Ren could retort, she appeared once more in the cold study of Azur Pelegros.

Azur was leaning forward on his chair, face propped on his knuckles, one eyebrow perked.

“I hear that you think my lips are…luscious?”

he said with a crooked smile.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to spy!”

she said, narrowing her eyes.

“She doesn’t deny it, I see.”

She tossed the papers on his desk irreverently.

“I barely made it out with these. Sorry if they’re a little blood-stained.”

But he wasn’t listening; his body went rigid, his eyes were wide, and his jaw was working.

“Did you just throw a relic marked with my unholy symbol?”

It was Ren’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Did you hear what I said? We almost got captured! Then you wouldn’t have your unholy relic!”

Azur breathed in slowly, trying to regain composure. He ran his hands delicately across his silken hair and cleared his throat before gently shifting the pages and stacking them into a perfect pile. He raised two long fingers and snapped. A scroll appeared, floating by his head.

“Service rendered, you are allowed your three questions.”

Ren steadied herself.

This was it. The moment that could change the trajectory of her life. But what to ask?

Her mind was overloaded—there were just too many questions. It was the same reason she hadn’t asked about her surname. Some questions just didn’t occur to her until the subject was broached, and all she found was blackness where a memory should be.

The questions couldn’t be too direct. She’s learned enough about Devils to know that she would not get another chance if she wasted a question. They couldn’t be explicitly related to her life but needed to be broad enough to give her insight.

“Why,”

she started cautiously.

“would someone have wanted to join The Great Fae War?”

Azur sat back, crossing his arms, thinking.

“The Fae Wars were a culmination of centuries of tension between the two Fae courts. The Seelie and Unseelie—

“But—”

He shushed her.

“Ren, do not waste your second question before I can finish the first. I will not warn you again. Historical context is important, darling.”

She glared at being shushed but let him continue.

“The two courts are not so different in many ways, but the same cannot be said for the ideologies. The Seelie believe in the father of the Fae, Faydir, while the Unseelie believe he abandoned them to famine and destruction.

“The Unseelie, land decimated, have been trying to invade the Seelie for not only these ideological differences but also to seize their resources. While the Seelie also struggle with their own land, their court is near the rivers, making the land fertile enough for their citizens to grow crops. The Seelie have refused, however, to trade with the Unseelie for the last several centuries.

“In recent years, information began to circulate that the Unseelie had given up on their plans for the Seelie and had, instead, set their sights on The Mortal Plane. Your plane.

“The Seelie and the Mortals joined together to defend their lands against the Unseelie invasion and did so successfully.

“Coming to your question. In a war such as this, there are a litany of reasons an individual might join—glory, adventure, riches—just to name a few. And then there are the rare beings who do it because it is right.”

Ren kept her gaze on Azur, searching his face for more details. But as always, he gave nothing away.

She had heard small details of the origins of the war during her time in Vergessen. But many citizens refused to give her any specifics, while others told her to be careful who she talked to lest she upset someone with her perplexing queries about a painful time in their history. Clara—Mom—just pursed her lips and shook her head when Ren had brought it up, dismissing the conversation altogether.

She knew that they called her Defender of The Planes, and that meant something. Not only had she been involved in the war, but she had probably been some type of important figure. It wasn’t surprising—her skills couldn’t have just appeared. They had to be attached to some echo of her former self. Apparently, that self was a female who fought in wars.

Yet this had its own set of complications—wars meant death. She recalled the familiar gurgling of the Devil female and the pained noises of Jester from the night before. At how the discordant sounds were so familiar to her ears. Music that she had learned by heart and could play to perfection at any given moment.

This familiar song meant that she had likely killed many Fae during the war as she refused to allow herself to think about prior. It had been easy for her to rationalize up until that point. Defender hadn’t technically meant she was doing any killing. Her gut clenched. But killing that female had been so easy—so quick. Her body reacted, and it felt…right. And that disgusted her.

“I’ve done…bad things.”

“Is that a question?”

he arched an eyebrow in warning.

“No! No—just a statement.”

She bit her lower lip.

“This is my question. Can a person… be redeemed? If they’ve done evil? Even if…they can’t remember it?”

Something changed. A pained expression appeared on his face. He wasn’t hiding this time. He swallowed, throat bobbing.

“I’m sorry, Ren. I do not know. Thus, I cannot answer your question. Question three?”

Her mouth fell open, stunned.

“No, that’s—not fair!”

Her cheeks heated in anger.

The Devil stood, black mist swirling around him, eyes darkening.

“Ren, our agreement was that I answer the questions to the best of my ability. I have done that. I have warned you to be prudent with your questions—”

“But you are a god. Isn’t redemption one of the things that you do?”

A vein twitched in his neck.

“I’m not that kind of god, Ren. I am the god of damnation—not redemption. If you want those answers, take it up with Nainaur.”

He sat down again and, with a strained expression, continued.

“Ren, after so many bad things, even if you can’t remember them, you are tainted. Stained. Irredeemable. In some moment, after so many sins, there is no turning back.”

Pieces fell into place. She must be evil—that is why she was so quick to sin. She had killed Fae in the wars, and no matter what the reason, she had blood on her hands. So much blood. People in Vergessen thought her a hero, but all she felt was shame. Shame only compounded by the lack of shame for killing that very night.

“Even if I’m sorry—repentant? I can’t…be better?”

“Technically, that is another question, but,”

he paused.

“my brother Nainaur says that once violence has entered your heart and your soul has been lost to it, you cannot be saved.”

Ren started.

“Nainaur is your brother?”

Azur clenched his jaw.

“All of us gods are siblings. We are bonded through our very essence. All with our own special blessings and powers.”

“And you? Nainaur says I can’t be saved. And what do you think?”

she asked, surprising herself. Why would it matter what the god of all evil thought about redemption?

Maybe she had asked because she was desperate. As Jester said, no one comes to Azur unless they have no other choice. And this must be the reason why she abandoned everything. She couldn’t live with herself and what she’d done. It was the only explanation that made sense. She had forced herself to forget—to rid herself of the bonds of shame and trauma. Hers and everyone else’s who lost family and friends to her hand.

“My opinion on the matter is irrelevant.”

It was all the confirmation that she needed. She was truly lost—truly damned, and she deserved it. She deserved to be a mindless husk—a sleeper.

So, it was this knowledge that she knew what she wanted her last question to be. She heard Jester’s taunting voice in her ears.

“You can’t fool me!”

She cleared her throat, hoping it would mean that her voice wouldn’t shake from embarrassment.

“What I want is…something you took from me.”

His eyes flashed in warning.

“I cannot restore your memories.”

“I know the rules,”

she said with more confidence than she felt.

To smother her nerves, she let Ren the Performer take over—she let this be her stage.

“I want something you took. But not a memory.”

His eyebrow raised in question. She had piqued his curiosity.

“Go on.”

“An experience I would very much like back and that, I feel, I very much deserve to have. As a woman of such great accomplishment, as you’ve said.”

Her heart skipped.

This could end in two ways. He would either be so fascinated by the idea, an opportunity to toy with her, or he would show his full wrath as king for even suggesting it.

But this was what she wanted, as frivolous as it might seem to him. To reclaim this one moment. To have a real Mortal experience and, perhaps, lose herself for a time. Quench the pain in her heart.

He remained motionless, like a snake ready to strike.

“I want…my first kiss back.”

She paused, unsure if she could even finish her sentence.

“And… I want you…to give it to me. So will you—give…it to me?”

It fell out of her mouth a little less elegantly than she had hoped, and she had to look away.

Azur, however, remained unmoving behind his desk.

She let the words hover in the air as one of the most powerful beings in the cosmos stared at her unblinkingly.

No. There is definitely something worse than seeing his wrath. He could laugh at me.

The idea of kissing had plagued her after Jester’s teasing. It was cruel that she had never felt wanted. Intimacy. Surely, it wasn’t so ridiculous. She needed this. If her fate was to be a soulless zombie, she needed to know what it felt like.

After several long seconds, his face changed. But before Ren could process its significance, he had crossed the room, grabbing her face—an insidious fiend devouring its prey. She only just saw a flash of wickedness in his eyes before he descended upon her. There was no softness, only primal hunger.

He traced his tongue over her lips, spreading them apart before claiming a swollen lip between his teeth and biting.

Renata gasped into the perfect bow of his mouth as the sharp pain sent a thrill racing through her. Every thought disappeared from her mind, and her instincts took over, as did her craving. She knew this. No, this wasn’t her first time. She reached up and clutched his hair, his soft curls feeling like satin between her fingers as they coiled through.

Azur chuckled at her boldness before a hand began to move down her back, fondling the softness above her thighs gently before giving a possessive squeeze.

Yes, don’t stop.

His kiss became more forceful as his hand continued its descent from her face to her neck as he gradually curled his fingers provocatively around her throat. He did not squeeze, but the message was clear. He could if he so desired—she was at his mercy. The gesture only increased Ren’s desperation—a moan escaped her, and an ache between her legs began to grow.

Pulling her closer, he offered up the slightest growl deep in his throat, and it was all Ren could do not to gasp with delight between fast kisses.

His hand moved again—this time tracing a line from the backs of her thighs and up her torso, deepening his kiss as he went.

Yes, yes, oh god.

With a throaty laugh, he gave a teasing squeeze to her throat.

Ren’s entire body quivered with pleasure.

She knew then, without a doubt, would have bet her soul again on it that this was the closest to paradise that she had ever, would ever come. She could die here and be content. At peace. All thoughts of redemption were lost to this blissful moment. Then—

He broke their embrace, taking a full step back.

Ren could only gasp for air, blinking herself back to consciousness, her lips still slightly parted.

He was looking down at her, expression unreadable. The only evidence they had been clinging passionately to each other was one small curl lying gently on his forehead.

“Was there anything else you needed?”

he asked clinically.

She gazed, mind muddled. She had a million things she wanted to say—wanted to ask. But her brain couldn’t seem to string anything together.

“Since you seem to have lost your tongue,”

he said with a knowing grin.

“I guess we are done here. That was, after all, three questions.”

He adjusted his vest and walked leisurely back to his desk.

“If you are planning to stay in my domain, I may call upon you again. You seem to have your…uses.”

Every emotion crashed into Ren at once, the strongest of which was embarrassment. The moment, the kiss so pivotal to her, meant nothing to him.

“Don’t worry, darling.”

he said, sitting.

“It’s just business.”

And she vanished.