Page 7 of Hell-Bound (Pacts of the Infernal #1)

She worships me with her sins. How delicious it feels to defile her. To show her her true nature. Breathtaking. But I feel myself, perhaps too diverted.

Ren slipped on the mask and got to work. She went through every book in the sitting area to no avail.

Frustrated, she held up a book to throw it across the room.

No. Ren likes books.

She fought the impulse.

Instead, Ren placed it gently back on the shelf where she found it, rolling her eyes at herself.

You’re ridiculous. Books can’t feel.

Resigned, she approached the door, she’d locked it this time, and unlatched it carefully to avoid alerting any lurkers outside.

She peeked her head out—empty. The only change was the lantern a few feet from her, now re-lit. She tried not to think of more angry Devils walking the halls, passing only a few feet away from her.

I’m sure it was just that Jester.

She creeped out the door soundlessly, having finally got the hang of the dress.

In the hall, she could again hear the orchestra. The elegant music began to crescendo, and she felt another tug as it beckoned her, the temptation growing.

She wasn’t technically supposed to avoid everyone here, was she? Leo had encouraged her to blend in, hadn’t he? Sneaking through halls wasn’t exactly blending in, and she’d never find out anything about her contract doing so.

She tilted her head, orienting herself towards the music. She had no trouble finding the two large double doors inside. She could hear the enticing music, talk, laugh, and occasionally swished gowns.

Well, it doesn’t sound like torture and Mortal sacrifices.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she pushed one of the doors open, barely wide enough to see.

There were hundreds of partiers. Some were in groups conversing while others danced and swayed to the music. They were all dressed in immaculate gowns and dublets. The decor could only be described as opulent with glittering gemstones shining from every surface. Chandeliers, tables, classes, dinnerware, and seating were all embossed with different chromatic stones.

Looking around, it was easy to distinguish Devils from Mortals as they all wore masks of different colors, all with depictions of demons or imps.

They weren’t cowering as she’d expected them to be. In fact, the majority were included in the partiers. Giggling, standing in corners, and sipping champagne. Some were Lesser Devils like Jester, skin in every hue imaginable. Pink, blue, purple, and red. Their tails swished, and horns were on full display, with only some donning masks. She supposed, as Jester had said, that the ones without masks were of a more important status.

There were also several Devils with large leathery wings cascading down their backs. Unlike the Lesser Devils with their colorful complexions, they looked perfectly Mortal except for the long black horns perched on the crowns of their heads.

One female in particular exuded divine beauty. She wore a fitted corset dress made of the finest silks and was absolutely dripping with the most alluring jewelry. All reminiscent of those found all over the city and now, in Ren’s own bodice. The Devil had a haughty laugh and was sipping from a long-stemmed champagne glass as she flexed her opalescent wings.

Ren felt her stomach clench as bile threatened to rise as the female’s jubilant giggle echoed off the walls. How could such effortless abandon exist mere steps away from such misery? And how could these people bask in this vulgar display of privilege when there was so much suffering on their doorstep?

Her disgust morphed to anger as a female laughed again, tossing her crystal-embossed hair over her shoulder. Ren wanted to rip it out. Wanted to scream at these people to help. Surely, with all of this extravagance, they could do something. Or—perhaps, she would make them.

Her hand twitched again, but not for her piccolo this time.

Then...

Indulge me, darling. Just this once. You could hurt them, you know? It wouldn’t be hard. Not for you.

The phantom voice caressed her ears.

She froze. The voice was getting stronger.

No. No. Please. No!

She didn’t want to send smoke signals showing her location to everyone in the room.

But nothing happened.

Still, it was worrying—being haunted by someone or something couldn’t be a good sign. It hadn’t previously been threatening. In fact, this was the first time she believed it had violent intentions. But not from it…for her. As if encouraging her to lash out.

She breathed in slowly, calming her wrath as she stepped further into the ballroom.

Stay focused. Find the contract. Find the book.

Once inside, she had a full view of the immaculate stage. She gasped. Never had Ren seen such an orchestra. Hundreds of members played both traditional and unfamiliar instruments. She didn’t recognize the song that they played, but it didn’t matter. She longed to join in, take the stage with the rest, and savor the song. To add it to her small memory bank.

“That certainly would not be blending in,”

she grumbled to herself.

“Maybe just a listen.”

She walked on the party’s fringes, trying her best to be unassuming and taking glimpses out of the side of her eyes to make sure no one was watching her. She was just one of several Mortal females smattered around the room.

Once she could see the musicians clearly, her stomach clenched in craving. Yet she was disappointed to discover that the orchestra was ending their current score.

A man stood up. No—not a man. A Devil.

He was wearing a starched white shirt rolled up to his elbows and a solid black vest. It was evidently his turn to play solo because he gracefully walked to the front of the stage, his violin held tenderly in his hands.

His eyes were dark burgundy, and his white hair lay elegantly on his shoulders. His face was angular and masculine, with a long, elegant nose. But the most mesmerizing feature was his devilish horns. Smooth as his skin and dark black, they curved gracefully up from the top of his head towards his crown before ending in a sleek point. Not sinister or threatening, but rather like a crown worn by a virtuous prince.

And then, he began to play. While the orchestra surely accompanied him, he was the only thing that existed for Ren. She only heard his honeyed notes and watched as his long fingers stroked the strings deftly.

He’d completely entranced her.

His arms moved, gliding the bow across with exquisite finesse. His eyes were closed, long lashes laying gently on his pale cheeks.

An unfamiliar sensation wafted over her. While her brain tried to process the meaning, her body understood and took over. Her face heated, and her pulse skittered. She was having a hard time catching air, and her dress felt too tight.

The devilish creature swayed rhythmically with the notes, and she could see a small crease between his brow as if so moved by the arrangement he could not help but feel it in every muscle.

Too soon, and with one last pull from his bow, the music stopped. The echo of the last note ricocheted off the walls, and the male opened his eyes almost sleepily before bowing his head to the audience.

There was a throng of applause around the chamber and murmurs of approval.

But Ren couldn’t move—her mouth parted and breaths shallow. She didn’t even notice that she was now the only person standing by the stage.

As the male lifted his head from his bow, he locked eyes with Ren and gave the smallest smile.

Befuddled, she looked away, her cheeks hot.

Before she could return to the party—flee to hide her embarrassment, she felt a gentle touch on her elbow.

“Excuse me, my lady.”

She turned. It was the violinist.

Her body, still not cooperating with her brain, stood there, transfixed, staring into his eyes, which glittered like tiny stars lived within. His smile was crooked. Sensual.

“It isn’t often I find someone as captivated by music as I am.”

His voice was smooth and deep, the vibration making her toes curl.

She responded, her voice finally restored.

“Well, it isn’t often that I have the pleasure of seeing someone—something so stunning,”

she blurted.

Good gods, woman. Pull it together.

She tried to give a timid smile, but she wasn’t sure if it looked right on her face.

His eyes flicked for a moment at the rest of the room and then back to her. He bowed again, this time deeply, and offered his hand.

“Would you care to dance?”

While Renata certainly knew it was a bad idea to dance with a Devil, Ren felt a bit embarrassed at the thought of rejecting someone who was literally bowing to her. Plus, he could know information about contracts.

She laid her hand softly in his and noticed that his fingers were long and velvety with no calluses, odd for a consummate violin player.

Her eyes darted once more around the room as the male led her to the middle of the dance floor. No one was watching. They all seemed too involved with their own activities.

“You are new to our courts,”

he began.

“Don’t worry, my lady,”

he said as if reading her thoughts.

“They are either not paying attention or are trying very hard not to.”

He gave her a wide grin, revealing two sharp fangs.

“They would hate being accused of being envious. No one wants to summon Pelegros this early in the evening.”

She smiled, not wanting to appear as clueless as she was.

He placed a hand on her lower back and drew her flush with his body. It was hard and muscular against her.

She gulped.

Then, a panicked thought.

Wait. Do I know how to dance?!

He smiled coyly as the music started again, and he spun her onto the dance floor. She held her breath as she willed her feet to move in time. But she needn’t worry. Her body knew these steps, or enough to get by, and at least she wasn’t tripping over her dress or his toes.

“Do you belong to someone?”

he asked, tilting his head curiously.

As soon as he opened his mouth, she smelled the most incredible aroma of flowers. She couldn’t place what they looked like, but she could feel the flicker of a memory tingle at the back of her mind. Long fields on a summer day, sweet wine next to a rippling brook. It was…enticing.

As she breathed in, her vision began to blur. She felt truly at peace for the first time. She smiled lazily, meeting the male’s burgundy eyes gleaming back at her.

“You are quite lovely,”

he said, reaching up to caress her cheek.

It felt like the softest petals tickling her skin. It was calming. Safe. Like there was nothing in any plane of existence that could hurt her.

“You’re a musician. Wind instrument, I presume,”

he smiled.

“I can tell by your lips. Someone who knows…how to use them.”

He moved his hands to her lips but did not touch them. They just hovered there.

She couldn’t think—couldn’t make a sound. She could only look into his eyes, completely hypnotized with every gravelly word. Her sensations began to change from slow and soft to something much warmer. Her heart thumped harder, and as he continued with every touch, pleasant ripples of sensation created throughout her body.

Ren had never been touched, not by a male and certainly not by someone so captivating.

“I find that the best musicians feel the music,”

he continued, ignoring Ren’s lack of response.

“The notes penetrate. Slip inside you and move you to ecstasy.”

Finally, she found words.

“Y-yes. I feel that music has its own type of power,”

she stammered, trying in vain to ignore the ache forming between her thighs.

His smile widened, his fangs fully revealed.

“I am glad you understand me. Many do not recognize the power music has over people. My name is Xarek. And you are?”

“Ren.”

He purred her name.

“Ren.”

He seemed to like the taste of it on his tongue. He gently brushed his fingers down her back as he guided her across the dance floor.

“Stunning.”

He sighed, leaning close.

“I admit that I am quite…curious about you.”

She couldn’t help but lean closer as a response. His body felt so…good. Strong and fierce, a perfect juxtaposition to his light touches.

“Wise of you to not belong to anyone,”

he drawled.

“One should be particular about such things. Mortals deserve the best, of course. I’m sure you’re not so easily…satisfied. But I could satisfy you. I would never leave you wanting.”

This time, he leaned so close that his lips stroked her neck, and she could feel his warm, flowery breath tickling the small hairs there.

She couldn’t breathe.

Her only response was to tremble and bite her lips, choking off a small whimper. She could feel his desire growing through her gown.

Oh my. What are you doing, my darling?

The voice. She tried to blink away the grogginess to stop the clouds from overtaking her. But her want was too great.

I see. Perhaps someone should remind you? You do not belong to him. You. Are. Mine!

His voice, harsher than she had ever heard him, snapped her out of her revelry, her mind instantly clearing right before feeling the ground tremble.

The glasses on the tables began to clink together, some crashing down, glittering the marble floor.

Xarek pulled back, startled and looking horrified.

Her right hand, still held in his, began to emit black tendrils.

He dropped her hands, and without warning, two giant bat-like wings sprang forth from between his shoulders.

The tremors stopped.

“You said you didn’t belong to anyone,”

he hissed.

“What is this, some sort of sick game? Are you trying to get us all killed!”

His last words echoed in the room and she could feel every face locked on them.

Ren was too stunned, immobilized with fear at the terrifying beast standing before her. Too alarmed at how captivating had suddenly changed to malevolent within seconds.

She surveyed the room nervously. All eyes watching with terrified expressions. Some clutching their partners, others covering their mouths to stifle a cry.

“I…I...”

“Go,”

he gritted out.

“I don’t know what trick you are playing.”

He shook his head.

“But we want no part in your twisted plotting.”

His voice shook with rage, his wings spreading wider.

Ren backed up.

“Sorry, I really didn’t—”

“I said go!”

he bellowed.

She spun on her booted heel and ran. Running towards the double doors, feeling each set of eyes.

Crossing the threshold, she ran aimlessly. Anywhere. She needed to hide. To get a moment to untangle her thoughts and catch her breath. Hastily, she pulled open the first unadorned door she saw.

Please be a godsdamn broom closet.

The door swung open, and she flung herself inside, shutting it tightly behind her.

It wasn’t a broom closet.

And she wasn’t alone.

The room was dark, save for the light flickering from the mantle.

She heard it before she saw it, a deep feminine moan.

A Lesser Devil, skin pink and glistening with sweat—head flung back and mouth open. She was completely nude, and her hips were shifting rhythmically to the thrusts of her partner.

Ren couldn’t completely see the male, most of his body blocked by the large armchair they were using for their stage. But she could see his face.

His head rested against the back of the chair, delicate curls tousled and lying artfully between two sinister-looking horns, both of which were larger and thicker than Xarek’s, curving around his head dramatically. His fist was twisted around the Lesser Devil’s tail, helping guide her body where he wanted her.

The muscles in his forearms flexed as he reached up to fondle the Devil’s perfect breast.

Ren covered her mouth to stifle a gasp as, to her horror, the tendrils, still wafting from her person, floated towards the couple.

The male groaned with pleasure as he tilted his head to the side and opened his eyes, fixing them on Ren.

“My sweet, I was hoping you would come,”

he growled before throwing his head back, curls flying, a roar of rapture escaping as he climaxed.

Done. She was done with this.

She whirled around through the door, trying to keep her feet, urgently retracing her disoriented steps to the foyer. She threw open the stained glass doors and dashed out into the night, hearing Jester giggle as she fled.