Page 6 of Hell-Bound (Pacts of the Infernal #1)

She has come to me as I knew she would. Let the games begin.

The first thing Renata remembered about that night was the gleaming glass doors of the mansion. This was not the evil demonic mansion she had envisioned. Then again, it made sense why everything looked so beautiful on the outside, just as the city initially looked. But there was only death and misery behind that beautiful facade.

Never trust a Devil. Never sign a contract with a Devil. Lying is as natural to them as breathing. Temptation is their power.

Renata took stock of her feelings, making sure that she was focused and ready for her first real mission. She half expected it to trigger a response of panic or fear, but it didn’t. In fact, she felt perfectly relaxed. As if this building was as familiar to her as her home. Of course, in her case, this could only be an expression. This place felt safer than home. Home meant two parents who could barely look at her and a lover whose sorrowful glances made her heart clench every time she thought back to them. It had all made her feel so powerless. But elegantly dressed, walking in a Devil’s den? That was power.

Leo had picked out an exquisite piece. It was a dark gray with touches of black and had a dropped neckline.

Renata likes dresses.

She was beginning to understand that verbalizing or actively acknowledging her likes and dislikes helped her to establish who she was—who she might have been previously. She felt as if, after talking to the other citizens of Vergessen, that opinions and beliefs were the foundation of most people’s identities, whether they knew it or not.

She lifted the long skirts and approached the double doors. She didn’t hesitate to push them open as self-preservation was, apparently, something somewhat unfamiliar.

She was immediately greeted by the faint smell of leather and dust coming from within, like an old store that had been collecting peculiarities for hundreds of years. The room was brightly lit with glittering glasses and decor in every corner and despite the smell, no speck of dust was found. Giant candelabras were adorned with the same otherworldly gemstones she had seen on the surface of the homes, and the tiled floor was also streaked with their exquisite beauty. The only unsettling aspect of the foyer was that it was completely empty.

The doors apparently kept the mansion incredibly insulated as they blocked out the sounds of orchestral music coming from within—a sound so welcoming to her ears. Her fingers twitched, and she had the overwhelming desire to plop down on the floor and sway gently to the music. However, she resisted her baser needs and swept her keen eyes around the room.

As if on cue, she suddenly heard a thumping noise, as if someone was stumbling down the stairs. In an instant, a thin creature landed clumsily in front of her. Renata shrank back, fingering the dagger hidden under her skirts. But the figure simply righted himself, dusted off his pants, and grinned at her wickedly. Which was made even more sinister by the Devil mask he wore. Ironic since, as his red skin, short horns, and long tail indicated, he was, undoubtedly, a Devil.

“Whooooo are youuuu?”

he asked in a sing-song voice.

Renata leaned back to give herself some distance in case the stranger jumped for her.

“excuse me?”

“Mmmmm. I saiiiid whoooo are yoooou?”

He batted his long eyelashes but didn’t break his wide smile—teeth shining brightly, cuspids slightly pointed. His delicate black horns were adorned with rings that glittered in the candlelight, and he was wearing brightly colored pants and a black silken shirt.

“M’lady, are you lost? I don’t recognize you—hmmmmm do you belooong to someone?”

he demurred as he looked Renata up and down, seeming genuinely curious.

Renata steeled herself.

Leo said flattery worked so...

“Oh dear me.”

Making a show of twisting her fingers.

“I had no idea this was such an intrusion. You see, I am here for someone, but I’m not entirely sure how to find him, sir. But I’m sure you’re so important and can help me? I am simply positive that you know your way around.”

Renata looked down at her feet coyly and attempted to feign innocence.

The Devil threw back his head and guffawed.

“You can’t be serious!”

He laughed, grabbing his sides.

“That is the most ridiculous display I’ve seen in a while! Darling, I love a good compliment as much as the next ego-driven fiend, but you’ve got to do better than that. Perhaps start with complimenting my manly prowess?”

He waggled an eyebrow.

She ground her teeth together and narrowed her eyes.

“Fine, yes! I am looking for someone, so if you wouldn’t mind!”

She tried to shove her way around the Devil.

“My myyyy dearie, don’t get your tail in a knot.”

She felt it pointless to mention that she didn’t possess this particular appendage, unlike him.

“I’ll say this for you, little lady, you are interesting. I can see why he likes you. Not many get to sign a contract with him these days. So picky picky picky.”

He tsked, shaking his head with each word for emphasis.

“He?”

Renata was suddenly very interested in talking.

“You know who it is?”

“No, no. First introductions, then information. That’s called decorum.”

The Devil spun on his toes and flipped backward, jingling the bells on his mask. He landed flawlessly with a swish of his hand, bowing deeply.

“I am the royal jester to the High Devils, Demons, and Monstrosities here in The Hells. But you may call me…Jester!”

He smiled, obviously pleased with himself.

Renata wasn’t sure she understood the joke. She also couldn’t recall if she was allowed to share her name with this creature.

Was it Devils you can’t tell your names to? Fairies? Gnomes? Ah. Screw it.

“I’m...Ren,”

she replied, remembering the nickname that Benji had given her.

Huh. Yeah. That’s it. I’m Ren.

Renata felt like a stranger.

“I am here looking for the Devil I signed a contract with. I need to see him immediately. We have... important business to go over.”

Jester breathed an overly dramatic sigh.

“Oh, Mortals. All the same. They sign contracts with Devils, which everyone warns them not to do, and then get all vexed when they regret it. Why is that, do you think?”

he said with a pause.

It took a beat for her to realize that this wasn’t rhetorical.

“Oh. Ugh, naivety? Desperation?”

At least these were the reasons she had assigned to herself.

“Yes, yesssss, that is right,”

he nodded enthusiastically.

“You know, I could help you find who you need,”

he crooned.

“but why would I do so much work for free?”

His wicked smile appeared again.

“How about we play a game? If you win, I take you directly to your master.”

Jester made a point of pausing for dramatic flair.

“And if I win...well, then let’s say you owe me a favor?”

Ren snorted.

“Absolutely not. Mortals may be naive, but I’m not stupid. I’m not making a deal with a Devil.”

She made another move to walk past him but almost tumbled, stepping on her long gown.

How is it that I can leap in the air almost twice my height and can’t walk in this damned thing?

Jester laughed gleefully.

“Haven’t you already sold your soul to a Devil? A very dangerous Devil at that. What’s a little agreement with a Lesser Devil going to hurt?”

He pouted his lip and blinked his eyes innocently.

Ren took a mental note of this expression to use for later.

“And obviously, nothing would be binding. I’m not asking for a contract. I’m just playful!”

Another grin.

She processed his words, surprised at herself for even considering.

“Wait. You’re a Lesser Devil?”

She tried to recall the few details that Leo had told her.

Jester looked smug.

“I do love the green ones. But you aren’t as innocent as you seem, are you?”

He squinted his eyes.

“You’ve seen death. So so much death.”

Ren stepped back with a start, once again snagging her dress below her heeled boots.

The fiend didn’t elaborate on the point, ignoring Ren’s reaction.

“A Lesser Devil doesn’t have wings for one, and our magic is a bit more, lets say, benign. I couldn’t compel you to do anything you didn’t want to do, for example.”

He then purposefully walked towards her and leaned down, inches away from her face.

Ren wasn’t particularly short, but she had noticed a pattern in the stature of Devils being quite imposing.

“And if I do say so myself, so much more majestic and unique with our lovely shades,”

he said, touching his red skin.

“High Devils aren’t nearly as lucky—muddy, muted skin like you Mortals.”

“I don’t want to play your games,”

she said, this time successfully pushing past him and stalking off.

Great, turn your back to a Devil. Where are you even going?

Jester did not follow. He just stood in the foyer, giggling.

Her body kept moving, determinedly, not having a plan, until she realized the music was getting louder.

Of course. You can’t bloody help yourself.

Going to see an orchestra was an idiotic idea. Orchestras meant people and if Jester so easily identified her as other, how would she not draw the attention of every Demon, Devil, or worse in this mansion?

Admonishing her instincts, she took an immediate right down a deserted hallway.

Leo made everything sound so easy as if the palace were full of other wandering soulless people looking for their contracts. But there she was, out in the open in an unfamiliar plane of existence, trying to steal something from a Devil.

It was the first time it hit her. She’d known that was the goal. Get the tome back. But it was only now that she had understood the consequences. What an idiotic thing to do—surely that would violate her contract. And if so, she’d become a sleeper!

She groaned.

Satisfied that she had put enough space between her and Jester, she halted her march.

Okay. Where to start? library?

The hallway was lit sparingly with torches every several feet. All the doors seemed identical except for one, which had gemstone details veining through it. She approached it cautiously. The red crystalline features ran between gaps in the wood, looking like lava running up and down from the outside. Her stomach growled.

So pretty.

She tried the handle. Locked. She grumbled in frustration.

The plate behind the metallic knob was carved with intricate floral patterns and held a large keyhole, just large enough to peek into. But no matter how hard Ren squinted, she couldn’t make out anything from the other side.

She retrieved her blade, placed it into the keyhole, and jiggled. The door didn’t budge, but the back plate made a clicking sound—a sound that provoked the semblance of recognition.

She scanned the hall, looking for inspiration, and silently approached the torch bracket in front of her. She suddenly felt a momentary, quick vibration from her piccolo as if in encouragement. It was the only other thing she had brought besides her gilded dagger. A small token of comfort.

Each bracket was adorned with varying sizes of glorious red gems held together with long and metallic arms and decorated with artful and delicate figures of Devils holding pikes and dancing.

Clasping with both hands on one of the miniatures, she gave a tug. The metal was strong but slightly rusted and pliable. Ren hiked up her skirts to grab at her dagger. She propped the sheathed dagger on the bottom of the bracket, supported her leg on the wall, and put all her weight on the dagger. After several seconds, she felt a give and heard the echoing clank of metal hitting a stone.

Ren, hardly believing her plan had worked. She grabbed her newly acquired lock-pick but hesitated. Her dark eyes roved over the red gems as the flames bounced through them, creating a kaleidoscope of designs on the wall. She wet her lips, reached for the largest of them, and placed the hilt of her dagger against the prongs holding it into place. It didn’t take nearly as much force to free, landing gently in Ren’s expectant palm.

Her breath caught. It was…a masterpiece. Something she was convinced could only exist by some otherworldly magic. Then he came.

Oh, my Renata. You delight me so very much. You greedy, greedy girl.

She whirled her dagger poised in her hand, ready to strike. But the hall was abandoned.

Ren clenched her teeth together.

“I’m not playing your games,”

she gritted out.

“I said no!”

Her voice echoed through the empty halls, and the torch instantly snuffed out as waves of black smoke floated like steam off her body.

Ren spun again, swiping her dagger through the air wildly, finding no target.

She could still see as the other torches’ flames danced around, flickering as the blackness moved towards them, dissipating right before it could engulf the flames.

The effect didn’t last long. It never did. It rose and curled around her and soon faded as if she were a snuffed candle letting off her final smoky tendrils.

For an instant, she thought about abandoning the den, continuing to walk until she could no longer see the palace. But her stubbornness won out against her trepidation. Nothing was going to stop her from finishing what she started. She slipped her prize into her bodice and approached the door.

Delicately, she inserted the small metal piece into the lock and instinctively knew to close her eyes and…listen. She could hear small clicks, little tinkling notes telling her when to twist and when to add force, like when her fingers knew how to grip a knife or fly across the openings in her piccolo. It took about a minute, but finally, she heard a satisfying clink.

Ren smiled at herself and quietly pushed the door open.

To her great disappointment, it wasn’t a library but rather a large sitting room. A fireplace on each wall was lit and burning, and several elegant cushioned chairs were placed around the room. It was positively homey.

It wasn’t all a loss, however. There were several bookshelves holding old and distinguished-looking tomes and scrolls.

Trying again to be as quiet and graceful as possible, she entered the room and silently closed the door behind her. She traced her hands down each tome, inspecting the spines. Disappointingly, the majority of the books were indecipherable, their names and titles written with sharp and incomprehensible letters resembling jagged knives.

She suddenly heard the door rattle slightly after passing two of the largest bookcases.

Panicked, Ren quickly jerked her head around, hoping her instincts would show her the perfect hiding place. There it was—a small gap between two bookcases right behind the door.

As the door opened, she threw herself toward it. The only problem was that Renata apparently hadn’t trained how to stuff five pounds of tulle into small hiding places.

Dammit, dammit, dammit to hell!

The door opened, snagging on her dress.

With a start, Ren realized that it was Jester who was standing at the entrance, looking amused.

He shook his head and reached out a hand to pull her from her hiding place.

“You’re not very good at this.”

He chuckled.

Glaring, she clasped his hand.

He gave a sharp tug and wrenched her and her now crumpled dress free from the tight space.

“Actually, I think I am very good at this. But this,”

she gestured angrily.

“monstrosity, keeps getting in my way!”

Jester cocked his head to the side.

“My dear, I know Monstrosities. Some of them are my best friends, and that dress is not a Monstrosity.”

Exasperated, she sighed.

“What are you even doing here?”

he said, raising a delicate eyebrow.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were up to no good.”

“I…got lost. Then I was scared that if someone found me—somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be...I’d…be punished?”

she said uncertainly.

Not a great liar either, Renata.

Smiling widely again, Jester’s eyes sparkled.

“Lucky for you, mischief and dishonesty are two of my favorite things. But listen, you need to stay out of trouble tonight. I don’t know what will happen if someone finds you, as entertaining as that would be.”

He paused for a moment and pursed his lips.

“We might even get to see you flayyyyed.”

He sighed, nostalgic.

“We haven’t had a flaying in so long.”

Not for the first time that night, Ren was struck dumb with nothing in response.

Jester then pulled off his Devil mask, revealing a young male with a handsome face.

“Let’s make this interesting. You get to be my entertainment for the night.”

He smirked, revealing two dimples, and tossed her the mask.

Catching it nimbly, she stared at the red Devil.

“Other Mortals are here tonight,”

he continued.

“but servants and Mortals are wearing masks. The lords wanted to have a masquerade or some such.”

He rolled his eyes.

“But those Devils are too proud to hide their own faces.”

He pointed a long, clawed finger at hers.

“Don’t lose that. Being indebted to a Devil, even a Lesser one, has consequences. Oh. And the next time you open a locked door, you might find more than you bargained for.”

And without another word, he silently slipped out.