Page 23 of Hell-Bound (Pacts of the Infernal #1)

She came to me, soul in tatters. She hardly had anything to offer. But I listened.

She wanted to strike him. Wanted to add another wound to his stupid abs for using Jester’s words against her.

“You lied to me.”

Drops of blood splattered to the ground as he chuckled.

“Call it a personality flaw of the god of lies,”

he breathed in shakily.

“did you come here to admonish me, or are we going to get out of here?”

Ren stomped towards him, getting within an inch of his face.

“Listen! I am here to help you because I owe it to you and to me. But my parents are in trouble so after we are out of here you’re going to answer all my questions! Got it?”

She would have felt proud of her tenacity if she hadn’t been trying to avoid looking at his huge cock.

The color drained from his face.

“Your family?”

“Yeah, so if you could stop with the theatrics, I’d appreciate it.”

“Yes, ma’am,”

he purred, red eyes annoyingly sparkly.

She grunted and sauntered over to the wall of torture instruments and examined each closely.

“Ren? I promise I will help you with your family. No need to get violent. Though I can’t say I’m not curious about how that seductive little brain works,”

he said, coughing.

Ren flashed him a warning glare and plucked two sharp scalpels off the wall.

“They really should have gagged you,”

she grumbled.

She had to push the table closer to Azur to reach his dangling wrists. Leaning in, she inserted the scalpels into the pin chamber. This might have been her hardest lock so far, mostly because she was inches away from Azur’s bare chest, and he still infuriatingly smelled like burnt roses—skin glistening from moisture and his eyes gazing up at her face.

“Has anyone told you that you’re very good with your fingers?”

he teased, trying to hide the rattle of pain in his chest.

She heard the final click, and the manacles popped open.

“Don’t do that, Azur,”

she hissed, making her way to his second arm.

“Do what? Be exceptionally charming?”

he said, trying to flash a smile through his split lip.

“No! Act like Jester. It isn’t fair,”

she whispered, the final manacle clicking open.

He massaged his wrist delicately. They were bloodied, skin scraped away almost to the bone.

“I suppose it would be useless to remind you that I am Jester?”

She ignored him and looked through the small window in the metal door. There were two guards standing at the entrance of the distant spiral staircase.

As she unstrapped her piccolo, she could feel Azur hovering nearby, his scent overwhelmingly decadent.

“What’s the plan, captain?” he asked.

“First,”

she said, all business.

“I’m going to deal with these fuckers, then we are going to rip out Xarek’s spine.”

Azur sighed contentedly.

“Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

She shot him another glare before lifting the piccolo to her lips. She felt her instrument vibrate with excitement, telling her the notes she needed.

She played the slow piece, allowing it to reverberate off the stone walls, enjoying their melodic echo.

The two guards immediately snapped to attention, hesitating only briefly to locate the sound of the music. With a confused look, they charged the door, spears in hand.

Both collapsed on the ground before they could reach the chamber.

“Damnit,”

she cursed.

“I was hoping they’d unlock the door before they passed out.”

She knelt down and inserted her makeshift pics in the door, but before she could finish her task, Azur grabbed her hands, examining the injuries there.

“What. Happened?”

he demanded, voice low and menacing, bloodied fangs bared.

She blushed despite herself, both injuries to her hands and knuckles having been entirely preventable.

“Nothing. Just clumsiness, that’s all.”

His face reddened even through the crusted blood.

“If someone hurt you, Ren.”

He cleared his throat and moved his jaw.

“I am contractually obligated to eviscerate them and—rip their fucking face off. Who was it? Which guard?”

His voice rumbled, losing all self-restraint, small fumes of smoke appearing by his head.

“Don’t bother,”

she said, pushing him away to continue with her work, attempting to ignore the flutter in her stomach.

He grabbed her hands, halting her progress.

“Consent now,”

he demanded roughly.

“What?!”

she hissed, trying to keep her voice level.

“You can’t just demand I consent to you.”

“I’m trying to help!”

he snapped.

“Help yourself! You’re a mess!”

His jaw worked.

“I…don’t have enough power to heal myself,”

he forced out.

Ren’s eyes widened. She knew that it was a feat for Azur to admit weakness.

She met his red eyes and nodded slightly.

“I consent.”

Azur breathed out a shaky sigh as the black tentacles swirled around her palms. The injuries warmed and sewed themselves together. When his fumes disappeared, her hands were still red—not fully healed—but significantly better.

He was glaring at her hands, noticeably frustrated at his dampened magic, and dropped her hand.

Ren couldn’t handle the awkwardness and quickly turned around to continue her work on the lock. Finally, after one of the most uncomfortable minutes of her current life, the familiar sound of release from the cylinder.

“Grab their pants,”

Ren huffed, opening the door and pushing one of the guards with her foot.

“You don’t like me this way? Ren, I must say I’m quite hurt,”

he said, his humor returning.

She ignored and began undressing the larger of the two guards.

“I don’t think those quite will fit,”

he said smugly.

Indeed, even the larger of the two was still a head shorter than Azur. Additionally, Azur’s thighs were monstrously muscular, not that Ren had taken any particular notice.

“They’ll have to do!”

she barked as quietly as possible.

“I’m not running around with your cock swinging in my face!”

“Oh, we couldn’t have that,”

he said coyly.

“Cocks should be saved for more pleasurable activities. Though, I wouldn’t take cold-blooded murder off that list, personally.”

“Could you stop being flirtatious for one godsdamn minute!”

“Absolutely not. It’s like asking me not to breathe, darling.”

“Well, you’re Immortal, so stop breathing and stop speaking!”

she shot back.

He smirked, dressing before they ascended the spiral stairs to the main floor.

Peeking out, they noticed another patrol of guards.

“Why is he so paranoid?”

Azur whispered.

“It’s not like he has a god shackled in his dungeons or anything.”

Ren tried not to snort, failing at keeping her wrath at the forefront of her mind. There was a part of her, a small part, that enjoyed having her friend on adventures again. Even if it wasn’t in the form she had expected.

“Okay, god, strike them down with your almighty powers or whatever. The sound of my piccolo won’t carry to them all.”

Azur looked sheepish.

“The thing is, my powers are a little dampened at the moment, having surrendered my throne for you.”

He looked away, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“I need to conserve my energy.”

“I see—performance anxiety. Don’t worry, Azur. I hear it happens to many males.”

She grinned enthusiastically.

It was his turn to glare.

“A real male knows how to improvise.”

Azur teleported, appearing in front of the first guard, a female Lesser with blue skin. Before the female could react, Azur spun her around and snapped her neck while half a dozen others rushed him.

Ren took this as her cue to unsheathe her dagger and pounce. She landed on the back of the guard closest to her and pulled it quickly across his neck. She tried not to flinch as the blood spurted over the gorgeous painting on the wall.

Before Ren could tackle her next target, Azur had already made his way through three more, several having been dismembered.

No finesse, this male.

Despite her mental grumbles, Ren couldn’t deny that she’d enjoyed seeing Azur in his element. Muscles flexing, showing the perfect image of the god of wrath.

Having taken out all the guards in the hall, they heard running boots from the next.

The two sprinted toward Xarek’s study and encountered four more guards. One, a High Devil with tanned skin and massive horns.

“Ladies first,”

Azur said with an ironic bow.

Ren dashed towards the largest, spinning out of the way of his longsword and jamming her dagger into his side. He screamed in agony, falling to one knee, the dagger having less of a paralyzing effect on this High Devil. Ren pulled the blade out, watching the wound bubble before stabbing once more into the side of his neck.

“Good, girl,”

Azur said, walking cooly past her, already having dispatched his own targets.

The pair narrowed in on the doorway, having encountered no other guards. Ren supposed that after seeing the wake of bodies, the rest had decided to keep their distance.

Cowards.

Ren’s bloodlust had yet to be sated.

“May I?”

he asked politely before the double doors.

Ren gave a formal and perhaps slightly playful head tilt of approval before Azur kicked the door open, blasting it from its hinges.

Inside were ten guards, all standing to defend Xarek, who was cowering with his violin behind the large stone desk. The guards didn’t have a chance to charge before Azur lifted two hands, wings springing from his back. Each guard seized up, black blood spurting from each orifice before falling limp to the ground.

“What happened to conserve your power?”

Ren murmured.

“Sacrifices have to be made for showmanship,”

he said with a flourish.

Xarek’s hands were shaking. It seemed like he was trying to squeak out notes on his instrument but was unable to settle himself.

Azur teleported in front of the Devil and ripped his violin from his hands, tossing it to Ren.

“Y-you can’t-can’t hurt me without c-cause! I’m Im–Immortal”

Xarek sputtered.

Azur’s hand darted out, lifting Xarek off his feet by his throat. The Devil made a choking sound, struggling for air. Azur lowered his face within a whisper of Xarek’s.

“Oh, but I can Xarek. You touched Ren. You touched what’s mine.”

His voice had lowered several octaves and sounded more monster than Devil.

“I would crush your windpipe right now, but I promised a very special little Elf that we would do this together. So please relax, Xarek. It will all be over soon.”

He threw Xarek across the room, his body landing with a crunch beside Ren’s feet.

He wailed in pain, one arm bent at an unnatural angle. Ren then slammed her booted foot across his other arm, relishing the loud snap!

“I’ve always wanted my own set of Devil horns. They’d suit me, wouldn’t you say, Azur?”

A momentary startled look crossed Azur’s face before he smiled wolfishly.

“Darling, and you call me the tease. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”

Azur approached Xarek and bent down.

“Are you going to tell us who you made that deal with, Xandy?”

he said with fake sympathy.

“It won’t save you, but perhaps I’ll make your death a little quicker.”

Xarek was trembling with fear, his eyes wide, blood beginning to drip from his nose.

“Just do it. I’m as good as dead, anyway. When he finds out you escaped—”

Azur kicked him in the side.

“Who!?”

Azur roared.

The pale Devil was crying now, tears streaking down his face and mixing with the black blood.

“I can’t…I can’t say! The contract!”

his voice bordered on hysteria.

“But I think,”

he swallowed.

“you already know.”

Azur stiffened, barely breathing.

“Do it,”

he said without looking up at her.

Ren didn’t hesitate. She knelt down, bringing the blade to his throat.

“Xarek?”

She paused.

“Fuck you.”

She sliced his neck open.

Xarek gurgled the sweet sounds of approaching death.

Azur bent and whispered into Xarek Wyvryn’s ear.

“If it is him you made a deal with, then I’d be giving you a precious gift by ending you now. Unfortunately for you, I am not a merciful god.”

He kicked Xarek once more and crossed the room with Ren, leaving the Devil to torturously choke on his own blood.

When the two entered the hallway, Azur stretched his limbs.

“That was fun. Why don’t we stop by the kitchen on our way out? I’m starving,”

he said, heading towards a large staircase.

“You want to eat at a time like this?”

she yelled.

“They’re still after us—and—what about my family?”

Azur didn’t stop his pace.

“Ren. How long has it been since you’ve eaten? If we are to recover your family, you will need your strength. There isn’t much in the way of food along the way to where we are going. Dining accommodation in the forest of Nahmir has gotten pretty subpar as of late.”

There it was again, the urge to strike him.

I could push him down the stairs.

Relenting, Ren followed Azur to the kitchens and noted that the palace looked abandoned.

“Not the most loyal of guards, are they?”

Ren observed.

Azur shrugged.

“Loyalty rarely comes into play for Devils. Fear always conquers loyalty, and little is more terrifying than their King.”

Arriving at the kitchens, Azur began pulling out cheese, fruits, and vegetables, throwing some on the table, and shoving others in a rucksack.

“Eat,”

he demanded, pointing at her.

She would have protested, but her hunger won out against her pride and she began to break off pieces of cheese.

“Catch!”

Azur hollered, tossing her a bottle of wine.

She caught it easily, trusting her natural dexterity, and pulled the cork off with her teeth. She took a large pull, relishing the bitter taste and anticipating the wonderful fog that would soon dampen her thoughts.

With her lips around the neck of the bottle, she passed Azur the violin, which she had kept close, to also store in the sack.

Azur walked out of the storage area, holding two large crates of liquor.

“You better not be suggesting we get drunk when my parents are in Mortal peril,”

she said through a mouthful of cheese.

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling. I would never serve you such inferior spirits. If we are going to lose our inhibitions together, it will be with the best wine in all The Planes.”

He flashed her a large smile. Ren’s stomach clenched when she realized that it looked exactly like Jester’s, minus the dimples.

He bounded up the stairs, and Ren heard a large crash from above.

What the hells?

The crashes continued at random intervals, but Ren heard no shouts of fear or running feet. After several minutes, Azur descended the stairs to the kitchens, apparently having raided Xarek’s closest.

He was wearing a starched white shirt and leather pants. The shirt, still too small, had several buttons missing from the top, showcasing the alluring lines of his chest.

“Time to go, Elfy!”

he said, scooping her up with more urgency than she was comfortable with.

“Wait! I didn’t finish my wine!”

she shouted, leaning over.

“Are…you serious?”

he asked as she wiggled her way out of his arms to drain her glass.

“Look, It’s been a long few days!”

she said, licking her lips.

“Okay, I’m ready to escape now.”

She grinned, her teeth stained purple.

“You’re devastatingly beautiful, you know that?”

he said, raising a brow.

She swatted at him, and he took the opportunity to catch her hand, pulling her quickly to the kitchen exit. Once outside, he spread his wings wide.

“We have to fly. I don’t have enough power to portal.”

“You can’t portal? Then how am I going to save my parents!”

she said, pulling away.

“Ren, I promised I would help you. Do you want to sign a contract? Because we can. Or you can just trust me.”

He looked at her, eyes serious.

She swallowed and nodded, allowing him to pick her up and tuck her close to his chest.

He shot to the sky, and as they began to fly among the fading streaks of light, Ren saw the smoke billowing from the palace.

“You’re burning it down?”

He grunted, wind blowing his curly hair from his face.

Ren tried to crane her neck for a better look.

“What about the rest of the people inside? I’m sure there were guards, workers?”

He kept his red eyes on the horizon.

“They knew what they risked when they sided with Xarek Wyvryn. They still have time to escape. But they’ll all be sentenced to death either way.”

Ren opened her mouth to object, to defend the beings inside, but that was hypocritical. She had killed several guards for only doing their jobs.

After all the purple had winked out, Azur landed hard in the middle of the Nahmir forest and set Ren down.

She immediately turned on him.

“Okay, Lord Pelegros. It’s time for some answers.”

Azur stretched his wings and sat down, leaning against a nearby tree.

“As you wish. But remember, I can’t answer anything about your past.”

She was slightly thrown at his serious tone and half expected him to make a lude joke. But he was all Azur now, Jester nowhere to be seen.

She joined him near the tree.

“First, my parents. Leo, The Gilded Triangle man who sent me here, is holding my parents hostage. Why would he do that? Why are they so desperate to find this tome?”

He sucked air through his teeth.

“I hope you can understand that some information cannot be shared. I have contracts.”

Her face turned skeptical.

His jaw moved as he looked up, thoughtful.

“I can only venture a guess as to why Leo would take your family. If he is working with my brother, then he is afraid of disappointing him. Of failing his holy mission.”

She blanched.

“He would go as far as kidnapping innocents?”

“As we’ve discussed, Ren, people do a lot of things when they are desperate.”

She clenched her jaw.

“And why is this stupid book so important?”

“It isn’t just a book. It’s a holy relic written by my younger brother Faydir. It was…the reason he died.”

Ren struggled against her urge to interrupt with a litany of more questions.

“Vutar’ka Zhartun, in the old tongue of the gods, means The Ultimate Truth, and that is simply what it is. A truth so powerful that gods quake in fear of it. Sometimes, truths, like your memories, are hidden to protect. The Ultimate Truth was never supposed to be written. It was thought to be impossible. Faydir gave every ounce of magic he had—all his godly life force, to write it. Before he died, he gave it to me to read and keep secret lest it fall into the wrong hands and The Ultimate Truth be forever destroyed.”

“If the truth is so important, why don’t you just…tell it?”

she asked, forehead creasing.

He breathed out.

“Who would believe me? I am the King of The Hells. The god of lies. My word means nothing, and The Ultimate Truth…”

He shook his head sadly.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Ren’s mouth fell open.

“Of course it matters—”

“But would it change anything? Would knowing about your past, your truth, help you? If you can’t change the past, why would the reasons why you got there make a difference!”

His voice was raised now and his eyes were on Ren’s, intense.

“I’d believe you,”

she said gently, laying a hand on his scratched arm.

“If you told me. I would believe your truth.”

He swallowed.

“As I said, I can’t tell everything because of the contract.”

“What does our contract have to do with the truth?”

she asked, exasperated.

“Nothing Ren. I mean my contract. The one I signed with my brother Nainaur—when he enslaved me to The Hells.”