Page 21 of The Damned (Coven of Bones #3)

M A R G O T

On anyone else, that grin would have been deeply unsettling.

It would have been a warning of something to come, something that I would take no pleasure in.

But when Beelzebub’s mouth spread into a wide smile, the fangs at the corners of his mouth flashing for the briefest of moments, I felt transfixed to the spot.

As if my feet had sprouted roots, trapping me in place so that all I could do was stare up at the way the smile transformed the brutal sort of beauty that shouldn’t have been possible.

How was it a man could be so large, so imposing, with features that seemed carved from stone and sin itself, and still look so playful and young when he smiled like that?

His red eyes blazed like a pool of lava as he tipped his chin down, staring straight into my eyes as if they were the window to my soul.

The color was as familiar to me as looking in a mirror, the same shade adorning my skin on a daily basis as one of the Red legacies of the Coven that waited for me on the surface.

“Would you care to change your clothes before we leave? Or are you comfortable in your uniform?” he asked, and I felt the slow pass of his gaze as it dropped from my eyes to take in the flush that warmed my cheeks and spread over the freckles dotting the bridge of my nose.

I expected him to shift that gaze lower, to drop it down over the curve of my mouth and throat and then linger on the line of cleavage that the low V-neck of my uniform always revealed.

My lungs expanded with a breath while I waited for it, so accustomed to the unabashed lust and perusal that few bothered to temper.

Reds were made to be appreciated, and many drew power from the simple act of inspiring lust in others.

But Beelzebub’s stare remained transfixed on my face, echoing the words he’d given me only a few moments prior.

We would never happen, could never happen, and there was a certain comfort to be found in the knowledge that even under the spell of my song, he was determined to resist and keep our interactions simple.

Straightforward. Without the complications of lust or emotions or any form of entanglement. There was some safety in that, one that I hadn’t felt in the presence of a man for as long as I could remember.

Even if he wanted me, he didn’t want to want me, and that counted for something.

Right?

I tried not to let the thought take root inside of me, tried not to allow the admission to be anything more than it was meant to be.

This could be the truce between us.

I swallowed, turning my gaze away from him and taking a moment to solidify myself in the knowledge that we could work together moving forward.

Perhaps it had been foolish of me to think something as simple as a song could manipulate a male like Beelzebub into giving in to baser desires.

He probably wasn’t used to hearing the word no and didn’t need to struggle with the girl who had no interest in sex.

He probably had countless conquests who simply lay at his feet and waited for him to touch them with his strong, muscled hands.

I wondered if his partners ever danced the line between wondering if he would fuck them or kill them, if those hands would be gentle or wrap around their throat and watch the light leave their eyes.

I wondered if they feared him as much as I had.

The thought was startling as I realized it was in the past tense, because I didn’t fear him the way I had when he first came to me in the courtyard.

I may not have trusted him, because I still knew what he was capable of, but I no longer thought him the uncontrolled brute who had snapped Willow’s neck for the Hell of it.

“How long will it take you to get to the Ninth Circle?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Just me? It would take a matter of hours. I could simply fly there, but it is not so simple with you. You’ll need to visit each of the circles and earn the right to pass through them individually.

You’ll need to show that you are in control of each of the sins to be able to move freely through Hell,” he answered, quirking up his brow when my body went taut.

“And if I’m not in control of them?” I asked, swallowing down my nerves. The ominous phrasing struck me straight to the chest, leaving me with the feeling that my return to Hollow’s Grove was anything but guaranteed.

“Then the circle where you fail will claim you and you won’t be able to leave until you are in control,” he said, shrugging as if it were inconsequential. As if we didn’t speak of damning me to the very place he’d spent centuries trying to escape.

I was a Red witch. This would be my resting place one day as it was, and I had absolutely no desire to see that day come sooner than necessary.

“I am not going to Lust,” I snapped, my fingers trembling with the thought.

The Second Circle was the one that would claim me when I died, my magic condemning me to it immediately.

The scales of judgment would make that choice easily, with little to be weighed that could outdo the magic I’d been born to.

Just as a Green witch would be condemned to Gluttony, and a Yellow to Wrath, that was the natural order of the balance between the witches and the demons.

I wouldn’t have any chance of proving to be in control of the very sin and magic that I’d avoided using altogether.

I didn’t know how to control it, only to avoid it.

The idea of the Second Circle being so close to me made me feel suddenly naked in my uniform, and I turned to the dresser at the side of the room. I pulled open the top drawer, finding it filled with men’s shirts and closing it with a disgruntled sigh to move on to the next one.

“You don’t want to communicate with Lucifer to arrange a time for Willow to open the doorway?

” Beelzebub asked. He knew as well as I did that remaining in Hell was not an option for me, that I deserved to have my life free from the torments of this afterlife before being confined to the torture waiting for me after my death.

“I see no need for my presence for you to do just that. You’ve lived an eternity as a fully functioning person without me to supervise you.

I assume you are capable of managing this task on your own,” I snapped, shoving another drawer closed when I found it filled with only men’s clothes.

They ranged in size, making it clear that this room didn’t belong to any one person.

There were clothes that almost looked like they would have fit me if not for being too long, and I knew for a fact that Beelzebub would never get his legs in those.

He moved to the dresser, grabbing a pair of the larger black pants from one of the drawers.

He tossed them onto the bed, leaving them there and making his way to the closet at the side of the room.

The pants on the bed reminded me almost of sweatpants, but the fabric more closely resembled leather by the looks of it.

“I am capable of communicating with Lucifer without you, but I will not be leaving you behind, songbird,” he said, tugging open the closet door. “I already explained that I need to keep you safe. There is no one in Purgatory that I would trust to look after you while I am gone.”

More feminine clothes hung in the closet, smaller in size with the shape that would fit my body more appropriately and not strain at my curves in the way a man’s straight clothing would.

I moved to the closet and shuffled through the hanging garments, looking for something that would offer me more coverage.

I gravitated toward one of the few red items, the color calling to me like a symbol of home.

The red pants looked to be crafted from the same material as the ones Beelzebub had set out for himself, and I ran my fingers over the surface.

I’d been both right and wrong to describe the fabric as being close to leather.

The surface was smooth and cool to the touch, but there was a give that leather would never be able to achieve, a stretch to the material that I hadn’t expected and reminded me of leggings.

“There’s absolutely no one that you could leave me with who would keep me safe?

No one who is loyal to Lucifer? I find that very hard to believe,” I argued with a scoff.

I couldn’t keep moving through Hell, not when the Second Circle waited for me.

I couldn’t continue to remain at Beelzebub’s side, not when his tirade this morning had penetrated the numbness around my heart.

I needed that fear of him to remain in place, because that was what kept me safe. My awareness of the intentions of the people around me hadn’t failed me yet, and believing him when he said he wouldn’t hurt me was more dangerous to me than anything else.

“Loyalty is fickle. Lucifer hasn’t been here in centuries, songbird.

It is difficult to remain loyal to someone who abandoned you, and many are just as likely to hurt you out of spite because of what you are.

Hell is no place for a living and breathing witch.

There’s only one demon I would trust with you, but he isn’t powerful enough to protect you if others were to find out you’re here.

We cannot simply wait for Willow to open the gateway, either.

You saw what the demons and souls were like there.

It’s too dangerous. I don’t have another choice but to bring you with me, as much as we would both like to avoid that,” he said, dismissing any suggestions I might have made.

“How is me dying any worse than getting trapped in the Second Circle?” I asked, hating this with every fiber of my being. No matter what choice I made, I was never going to leave this place.