Page 56 of The Damned (Coven of Bones #3)

M A R G O T

We made our way out of the circle of Violence early the next morning. I had no intentions of staying in that hellish place any longer than necessary, even if the truths I had been forced to face to accept myself as I was would be valuable in the end.

They might have been something that I’d needed, a long overdue forgiveness I hadn’t seen a way toward finding, but that didn’t mean I didn’t hate the path the circle had chosen to give me that forgiveness in myself.

My acceptance had come at a cost, and it felt like the desire to avenge that little girl had been the one to be sacrificed. It felt like I’d had to let go of making sure that never happened to anyone else in order to find my own peace.

The stormy cliffside was a force of wind against my face as we approached, a sudden drop down to the sandy beach below. Waves crashed into the shore, a narrow passageway on the beach before the drop-off plunged into the depths of an ocean.

My hair blew about my face, making me long for something to tie it back as Beelzebub led me right up to the edge. He peered down over it, staring at that narrow passageway of sand below.

“Give the wind a lie when you jump. You won’t be able to speak it, not with the way the wind will steal the breath from your lungs.

The lie is your payment for entering Fraud, so make sure you keep it at the forefront of your mind,” he said, turning his back to the cliff.

He faced me fully, making me watch in horror as he took a single step back.

He toppled over the side, his body angling away from me as one foot stayed planted against the cliff for a second that felt like an eternity. He pitched back until he was parallel with the earth itself.

Then he fell, plummeting toward the sand below. I lost sight of him in the swirling winds of a storm that swept him up, entwining around him. Staring after him, I watched for the moment he would appear on the sand below. Waiting for him to either stand triumphant at the bottom or fall to his death.

My heart was in my throat as I waited, and waited, and waited.

He never reappeared, as if he’d simply vanished out of thin air.

I swallowed hoarsely, toying with the edges of a lie in my mind.

I had every intention of considering my past, of taking that plunge with the lie of a happy childhood in my mind.

Erotes families went to great pains to maintain the illusion of happiness, of the perfect family in spite of the pressures they tended to place on their offspring.

Run faster to be thinner. Sing louder. Take more care with your appearance to increase natural appeal.

But as I took that step off the edge, my heart racing so harshly I felt its beat in every corner of my body, that wasn’t the lie that danced at the forefront of my mind.

That was a lie I told to protect my family, to play into the narrative they’d chosen to write. My greatest secret was the one I kept to protect myself, and the lie I told to cover up the truth.

I’m not in love .

The thought was a distinctive, tangible thing with weight that felt like it, too, helped gravity pull me down toward the sand.

I plummeted feetfirst, my hair blowing up past my head and my arms raised from the force of my fall.

I wished there was a way to get him off my mind, but he’d begun to occupy it eternally.

There was little freedom from him and his assault on my senses, little reprieve in any corner of my mind.

Wind enrobed me, wrapping itself around me like a cold embrace. I spun in the circle of its current, twisting and twining as the sand neared, and then I slid right through it.

The grains of it surrounded me, swirling around like a vortex as I plunged into a cool, blue-gray place that reminded me of water except for the dryness of the air.

When I finally landed on the sand, it was another beach entirely. This was the freedom that came with the searing heat of the sun in the sky, with the summer humidity in the air.

The wind faded out, vanishing from around me.

I lay upon the sand, feeling each individual grain where it clung to my dry skin.

The tide lapped against the shore softly, touching my toes as a broad shadow interfered with the sunshine on my skin.

I peeled open my eyes slowly, blinded from the brightness as the shadow held out a hand, an offering to pull me to my feet.

The temptation to remain right here, to linger in this place of warmth and tropical beauty, was strong, nearly overwhelmingly so. I wanted nothing more than to stay here, but the sanctuary felt false.

Like it was too good to be true.

I placed my hand within the shadow’s, allowing him to pull me to my feet slowly.

With the sun no longer at the forefront of my eyes, Beelzebub’s face slowly came into view.

His soft smile as he gazed out at the crystalline blue ocean was an echo of what I felt myself.

A desire to stay that we both knew was impossible.

Stairs curved up the cliffside at our backs, embedded into the rock with the intricacy I’d come to expect of the nine manors of Hell.

The top of the cliff was less moody than it had been when we’d jumped, a garden of flowers planted into the cliffside.

Plumeria bloomed in splashes of yellow and pink on trees beside the white marble of the building, wisteria planted farther past the gardens with a mix of red and purple flowers cascading over the ground.

Vines of roses climbed up the columns of the building that seemed to have been built out of the cliffside itself, lending an ethereal sense to the building that felt like it belonged on the Greek seaside.

It was beautiful, a vacation home that no one would be able to pass up.

Even though my personal taste leant more toward the moody, gothic structure of Hollow’s Grove and Beelzebub’s manor, even I wouldn’t have objected to spending a great deal of time in this place.

It was a haven, a sanctuary by the sea.

As Beel led me to the stairs and we started our ascent, I couldn’t help that nagging feeling that it was a trap.

That maybe what we saw before us wasn’t the reality.

Deception wasn’t something I thought you could feel around you, and yet here it felt like I could taste it.

Like the bitter end that followed the sweetness of dark chocolate, it cloyed the senses.

The floral scent was like incense clinging to the air, fresh and thick.

It only grew stronger as we neared the top of the stairs, my hand dragging over the surface of the stone wall at the edge.

“This place is all a lie, isn’t it?” I asked, stilling before we could approach the manor.

Beel smiled, the look resembling something of pride.

“Not exactly,” he said, but the tone of his voice seemed to defy the statement.

He drew out the last word slowly. “Everything is as real here as it is in any of the other circles. It comes down to something more along the lines of not being able to trust what is in front of you. A beautiful home on the outside can hold a prison within. A rose can hide thorns sharp enough to bleed. A handsome man can be the devil in disguise. Pretty lies on the surface often hide the ugliest truths deep within.”

His last example was given with a smirk, knowing that while Lucifer had fooled Willow and deceived her greatly to get what He needed from her, He’d lived among the rest of us in Crystal Hollow for centuries.

I’d known Him most of my life, and while it hadn’t been under any greatly personal circumstances, I’d never even begun to think about Him as more than just another run-of-the-mill demon.

“Am I about to walk into a prison?” I asked as he guided me toward the front door to the manor. My voice was light, attempting to keep the darker conversations at bay.

“You’re already in one,” he replied with a soft laugh, swinging his free hand out in a circle before him. “All Hell is a prison. Each circle is just a different cell.”

Those words struck deep, making me gape up at him.

I’d known as much, but hadn’t thought an archdemon would think that way about the only home he’d ever known.

His face was carefully blank as he pulled open the door, gesturing me into the manor with a nod of his head.

I passed him as I made my way in, all too aware of the brush of his body against my shoulder as I did so.

He was oddly quiet as we entered, but I had to brush it off as we came face-to-face with a single woman.

Incandescent purple eyes stared out of her face, accentuated by sharp features that felt almost batlike.

Her nose was thin and pointed, her ears tipped like wings.

Atop her head were four horns of varying sizes, standing straight up toward the ceiling of the grand foyer as she lingered beneath the chandelier.

“Lord Beelzebub,” she said, her voice a purr as sharp teeth peeked out the corners of her mouth. With another woman, I might have thought it seductive, but with this demon in particular, she seemed far more inclined to eat him than fuck him.

“Legion,” Beelzebub said, stepping forward.

He left me to approach her—touching his forehead to hers and murmuring something beneath his breath.

A moment seemed to pass between them, an unspoken communication I wasn’t privy to.

I couldn’t hear the words, not over the thundering of my heart in my ears.

His proximity to her set every bit of jealousy within me on fire, made me want nothing more than to confront him for the falsehoods he would have had to give me in order for him to have a relationship this intimate with this woman.

She opened her mouth slowly, a thin, forked tongue sneaking out to drag over Beelzebub’s cheek. She licked him slowly, as if tasting him, and let out a shuddering gasp as he pulled away and stood to the side.