Page 18 of Hell-Bound (Pacts of the Infernal #1)

I see reverberations of myself in her more and more with every passing day.

The three staggered to a halt as they were spat out on the outskirts of the forest of Nahmir. Ren was reeling, confused, and disoriented.

Gabriela was on all fours, sputtering and retching. Ren bent down to rub her back.

“It’s okay now, Gabriela. You’re free.”

Jester surveyed the area, checking behind trees and rocks to ensure they hadn’t been followed. But who would have dared follow after that performance?

Gabriela finally calmed a little, sitting cross-legged on the ground.

“I can’t begin to thank you enough,”

she stammered, wiping her eyes.

“I know The Almighty sent you to save me—you must be one of his faithful.”

Ren heard an almost imperceptible growl from her friend.

“Don’t thank The Almighty, Gabriela. He didn’t do shit for you. We did.”

Gabriela made a whimpering sound, and Ren inhaled sharply, surprised by his pointed words. Jester joined the two females on the ground. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small coin purse.

“You’re on your own from here. This should be enough to get you anywhere you want to go.”

She took the bag timidly.

“But, sir, if you’re indebted to a Devil, you’ll need this money,”

she said, sensing his possession as other Devils had previously.

“Don’t worry about me. You just get yourself to safety. Do you have family or friends you can stay with?”

“Yes, a few towns over, but it’s a long walk.”

“I can portal you, no problem!”

he said with a smile before Gabriela threw her arms around his neck, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Ren scooted a bit back, feeling awkward.

Jester helped the Devil to her feet and summoned a portal. With a look back at her two rescuers, she blew a kiss and disappeared.

“That was fun!”

Jester said, stretching.

“Are…we going to talk about what happened back there? What happened to Lesser Devils having benign powers?”

Jester ignored her and began walking towards the city.

“Jester, wait. You can tell me. I won’t judge you,”

she said, taking his hand and halting his movement.

“I just want to help,”

she tried to inject as much care into her voice as possible.

A long breath marked his surrender.

“There are a lot of things you don’t understand about The Hells. Even more, there are a lot of things you don’t—can’t understand about me. My relationship with Azur is complicated. But it has its benefits, too. I have the power to help people, but that’s really all I can say. I hope you can respect that.”

She realized at that moment that Jester was being as truthful as he was capable of being. She could see the discomfort in his expression, and she knew if he could tell her more, he would. Yet she, with all her demands of honesty, hadn’t been truthful with Jester. He had saved her more than once, and she hadn’t done him this courtesy.

“What you said about The Almighty, why did you say it?”

she asked.

Jester’s expression turned cold.

“That is something I cannot speak of without violating my contract.”

“I see. There is something I want to tell you about The Almighty.”

Jester furrowed his brow as she spoke. She noticed a faint uptick in the pulse at his neck—fear in this creature that she now knew was capable of destroying an Immortal.

“I am working for him. He’s looking for something called Vutar’ka Zhartun. Have you heard of it?”

Jester’s lips parted slightly. He didn’t look like he was breathing.

“Ren, what have you done?”

he said, almost inaudibly.

“If I find it, I could restore my memories!”

she said quickly.

“He said that he could release you from your contract…”

The second part trailed off, and she hoped he wouldn’t shut down again.

Jester scrubbed his face in his hands.

“He said…”

she continued, hoping to ease his anxiety.

“he told me that Azur would know where it is.”

His eyes shot to her. They were wild and piercing.

“He? You talked to Nainaur?”

His tone was becoming increasingly aggressive, and she officially regretted her decision to tell him.

“Yes. I’ve met with several gods recently, as you know,”

she said defensively.

One of Jester’s eyes twitched as they widened in disbelief.

“Nainaur is the sworn enemy of Azur. How could you even consider that I might get involved with this? I have to tell Azur. I can’t—won’t keep this from him.”

“That was actually what I was hoping for. Maybe he can help us—”

“You don’t understand! Vutar’ka Zhartun is an ancient relic given to Azur by his brother, Faydir, before his death!”

Jester snapped his mouth shut.

“Faydir? The Fae god? He did abandon the Fae?”

Jester’s jaw tightened.

“I don’t know. But that’s…what I think. Regardless, Nainaur cannot possess the tome. I’m sorry, I have to go. Can you make your way back to the tavern alone?”

Before she could respond, he disappeared.

???

Ren sat alone in her room, which was starting to feel homey, and played her piccolo. She knew she should probably be trying to decipher the piccolo’s secrets, but she couldn’t help getting caught up in the trance of beautiful notes.

She was trying to create something new, something that reflected her fractured and contradictory feelings, but the playing was rough going. She struggled to hit satisfying pitches. Even so, the process brought a semblance of contentment.

Abruptly, she stopped playing as she noticed her fingers slowed over the openings of the piccolo and began to release dark, smoky curls.

Ren moaned in acquiescence at his summons and materialized in the familiar office.

The door behind her slammed open, and she spun around, startled.

Azur walked in and pushed past her—his clothes slightly disheveled and his curls tousled. Her mind went to inappropriate places until she saw that he was soaked with blood.

Azur sat behind his desk and pushed his curls back into their proper place, smearing a small amount of black blood on his forehead. His eyes were hard as he glared at her from across the room.

Her stomach flipped.

If she didn’t know that he couldn’t harm her, she believed he would launch himself across the room to rip out her throat.

“You’ve been talking to Nainaur.”

It wasn’t a question.

“You. Ren Eldanuer, who belongs to me, has gone behind my back, scheming to steal one of the most precious items in all the planes.”

“No, I—”

“Silence!”

he roared, slamming his hands on his desk, face taking on its iridescent and fiery appearance.

Hells.

Her body flushed.

“Have you been working with Xarek? Tell me now, and I might not lock you in the pits for the rest of your days,”

he snarled, showing the points of his sharp teeth.

She shivered, and it wasn’t only due to terror. He was the epitome of power and dominance, exuding his spectacular wrath. The most terrifying beast of your nightmares and the king you got on your knees for. The lover you wanted to fight for you.

It was time to come clean. Ren opened her mouth, surprised that her voice didn’t shake.

“I have never worked with Xarek, though I have been working with The Gilded Triangle. They brought me to The Hells to try to get the—”

“Vutar’ka Zhartun,”

he finished.

“Do you realize what could have happened to Jester if you had involved him in this inadvertently? He is a Devil of The Hells. Becoming a sleeper would have been a privilege compared to what might happen if a soulless Devil entreated with the god of The Heavens.”

Her eyes prickled.

Don’t you dare cry.

She decided to trade her sadness for anger.

“I didn’t know. I was only trying to help!”

she fired back, clenching her fists.

“No one is helping him, and he is alone! I know what that feels like. To be soulless and alone. If I can help him, I will.”

“You are going to stand there and tell me that your motives aren’t selfish?”

he said, bolting to his feet.

“What did The Almighty Nainaur promise you in exchange for your betrayal? What could have been so important that you would risk everything?”

“Everything? I have nothing, Azur! No memories, no family, no home! He offered me all of that plus redemption. If I recall, you told me that was impossible.”

She was shaking now, her wrath taking its proper place and filling her with audacity.

“Is that what you want? To go back? Truly? For your memories to be restored?”

She considered. The truth was, she still didn’t know.

“I know I don’t want to live a life wondering if I was—am—good or bad. I don’t want to keep living, trying to make up for all the things I might or might not have done without even knowing what I am working towards. Maybe if I know, if I go back, I can figure it out. Get on the road to redemption or…something like it.”

Azur froze, staring at Ren as if puzzling something out. He finally sat, lacing his still-blooded hands together.

It struck her.

No. Jester!

“What did you do to Jester?!”

she screamed, voice cracking with agony and rage. The tears came now, unobstructed.

He did not break eye contact with her.

“What if I hurt him, Ren? What would you do?”

She drew her obsidian dagger.

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re Immortal. I will stab you until you wish you were dead.”

Her tone was venom. She would. She would die there, making this creature regret ever touching her friend.

Azur smiled wickedly.

That was it! She launched herself across the room, screaming and holding her dagger with both hands. She leapt into the air to swing down upon him as she vaulted the desk.

She froze—literally froze, hanging in mid-air.

Azur was holding a lazy hand up, still smiling. He sighed as if speaking to a lover.

“You are utterly remarkable. Though you would never allow yourself to admit it, we are similar. Beauty covering the heinous beast inside.”

He let her drop, landing roughly on his desk, with papers and quills flying.

“You have surprised me, my dear, and I am so very rarely surprised. For this reason alone, I won’t lock you up and torture you like that old fool in the dungeons. But to answer your question, no, it’s not Jester’s blood. I quite like my Jester, actually, and appreciate his unwavering loyalty.”

Her breathing was shallow, and tears still streamed down her face, smearing the ink on the various documents on the desk.

“I didn’t work with Xarek. I didn’t know about the tome,”

she gritted through her teeth,

“Very well,”

he said firmly.

“Then our next step is that we must destroy Xarek. You and I.”

“Why should I help you?”

she spat, anger still bubbling at the surface.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Did you forget that he plans to use you? Even if the prestigious Gilded Triangle could send you back, Xarek is a powerful High Devil who will stop at nothing to hunt you down. You want to take fate into your own hands? Help me kill him.”

In her own hands. Freedom to make decisions for herself—to show The Planes, all the beings, Azur included, that she would decide her destiny. Killing a High Devil would definitely make her feel gloriously in control of her fate.

“What do I need to do?”

“That’s my girl,”

he said, eyes gleaming.

“I’m planning to host a party. All the High Devils, lords, and ladies of the plane will be invited. Xarek will not be able to resist this opportunity to challenge me. When he does, I will remove his head from his shoulders,”

he said casually.

“Why can’t you just go do it now?”

“There are rules in my court. Xarek is Immortal, and as such, he is under my protection until he violates one of my edicts. Threatening his king publically would give me the freedom to act as I see fit in regard to his life.”

“And where do I come in?”

Azur sat back, looking like the picture of comfort.

“Xarek wants to use you. I will take you as my consort to show that you are mine. Every Devil in the planes will know that you cannot be touched. I have a feeling, however, that Xarek, in his devilish arrogance, will try to see how far he can get with you, and try to collect information. Instead, I want you to discover his plans. Then I kill him.”

“We,”

Ren stated definitively.

“We kill him.”

Azur tilted his head back and inhaled deeply as if treasuring a delicious scent in the air.

“Yesss, my darling,”

he purred.

“we kill him. The event is tomorrow night—before we go, I need to brand you as mine,”

he said, almost as an afterthought.

“Absolutely not.”

She balked.

“I’m not going to let you brand me. Are you insane?”

“Some people have said that, yes. Don’t fret—it’s temporary. But I cannot call you my consort if you have not been marked.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“No one would believe it without my brand, it will also keep you safe. But I won’t do it unless you give me permission.”

“Will…it hurt?”

He tilted his head thoughtfully.

“No. At least, they haven’t told me it does.”

“And…this is the only way?”

she asked, hoping their contract extended to preventing him from lying.

“I am afraid so. Any more extreme action might place you at unnecessary risk.”

“Fine,”

she said, huffing.

“Excellent. Now, if you’d please lay down.”

Awkwardly, Ren realized that she was still splayed on Azur’s desk.

“There is fine. Might as well,”

he grumbled, surveying the mess of papers.

He reached for her and lightly positioned her face towards his, hands still stained with dried blood. His eyes were hooded as they traced the curve of her neck.

“Yes, this will do nicely,”

he murmured to himself.

He then lowered his face inches away from her, and she knew he could see her pulse quicken.

“What are you doing?”

she asked breathlessly.

“It must be where everyone will see it,”

he said, face still hovering at her nape.

The smell of roses on his breath made her heart skitter. With a start, she felt him trace the gentlest of lines down her neck with a sharp fang—the sensation already causing her muscles to spasm. She squinted her eyes, trying to concentrate on the necessity of the practice, not the caress. She knew that it would be all too easy to get lost in the experience.

“Oh, my darling, Ren. Just a pinch,”

he sighed at her soft nape.

He buried his fangs into her roughly.

Ren gasped as his teeth pierced skin. A momentary stab of pain and then a surge of pleasant prickling raced through her body. She began to pant, losing control of her desires, wanting nothing more than for him to devour her whole.

One hand shot up, grabbing the curve of his horn to pull him in closer—a beg for more.

Deeper.

He stopped with a jolt.

“If you do that, I won’t be able to control what happens next,”

he grunted huskily.

She felt wicked as she deliberately unfurled her fingers one by one, then teasingly trailed each finger lightly down the horn’s curve.

Azur sucked in air quickly, letting out a moan of excitement, his body shuddering. He trailed his tongue down her neck, licking up blood that was dripping there. A dark laugh escaped his lips as he kissed the small curve of her neck, stroking their mutual lust, moaning as he went. A low growl rumbled his throat as he jerked as if trying to contain his eagerness, drawing gentle lines of kisses to her chin. He paused, demanding her attention, a question lingering in his eyes.

Yes.

His lips met hers with a hunger—the ache in her core now a throb of desire. He pulled himself onto the desk and straddled her, breathing low groans into her mouth.

“You feel so perfect,”

he growled, lifting her hips up to meet his and clasping his hand around the back of her neck. She could feel his hardness as he pulled her leg up to wrap around his waist.

She was shattered, only able to breathe in gasps and whimpers.

He jerked, pulling her even closer as if wanting to crawl inside her. Another jerk—and his wings, large and menacing, ripped through the flesh of his back, shredding his shirt and vest.

Ren stifled a cry of surprise into his mouth but refused to break the embrace. It felt too perfect in his arms. She trailed her fingers down his chest, letting the tips of her fingers quiver in the pleasure of his perfect skin.

He slowed down, his kisses turning sultry and needy before he gently pulled away. He lifted her chin delicately and traced his gaze across her expectant lips—blinking slowly, as if seeing her for the first time. His breath ragged, his cheeks flushed. His glowing eyes, endlessly deep, surveying her as if she were the only person he wished to admire for the rest of his Immortal life. His eyebrows were tucked together, lips slightly parted.

“Ren?”

“Yes,”

she said, struggling to catch her breath.

“Please. Could you remove yourself from my desk?”

He straightened, vanishing his wings.

She let out a choked sound, and before she could stop herself—she reared her hand back and slapped him.

Both of their mouths fell open, hers in disbelief, his almost proud. She angrily hopped off his desk and left, slamming the door behind her.