Well, I was out of the saddle now and it was time to put a little distance between us. I dropped Laish’s hand as quickly and as casually as I could once I got off Kurex’s back and went to look inside the suite.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous!” I breathed as I stepped inside. Or maybe I should say, stepped down because it was a sunken room with a deep step just inside the doorway. The carpet was rich and thick, made of something that almost felt alive. It caressed my bare feet (I’d taken off the other black ballet flat) making me feel like I was getting a foot massage as I walked.
“Take your time and explore,” Laish said, nodding at the huge suite. “I must go tend to Kurex. I do not trust him to any of the handlers Druaga has on his staff.” He pointed a finger at me. “You are to stay in the room the entire time I am gone and do not open the door to anyone. Furthermore, do not accept any kind of offer, no matter how small or inconsequential it may seem.”
“Yes, sir.” I gave him a sarcastic little mock salute. “And should I put myself to bed early without supper while I’m at it?”
Laish’s eyes were suddenly half-lidded, his ruby eyes glowing as he looked at me.
“As to that, mon ange, I shall return and put you to bed myself. A process I am very much looking forward to.”
“What do you mean?” Despite myself, my heart started to pound. “We…I thought we didn’t have to…to do that unless we were paying the Sin Tax to get into the next level—the third circle of Hell.”
“The border between Baator and Minauros, the Great Dessert, is just beyond the sixth exit of the Hotel Infernal,” he said softly. “Therefore we may pay the Sin Tax ahead of time and in a much more leisurely fashion than we paid to get into the second circle.”
“We can?” I faltered, hating the tremor in my voice but unable to help it.
“Most assuredly.” His eyes were still burning.
“Remember your promise, Laish,” I said quickly. “You said you wouldn’t take me…wouldn’t go too far.”
“Yes, but we must at least go further than we did to cross the Styx,” he murmured. “The fee to travel deeper into the Infernal Realm grows with each step.”
“But still,” I said. “You told me you wouldn’t do that unless you had to. Until the end.”
His ruby eyes raked over me, making me feel incredibly naked.
“Just because I may not yet make love to you doesn’t mean I don’t anticipate stroking your beautiful body and making you come tonight, mon ange.”
“I…you…” For once I was at a loss for words. Grams would have called it a miracle—she says I always have something to say for myself whether I should say it or not. But this time I found nothing.
Laish didn’t seem a bit bothered by my silence. He raised an eyebrow at me.
“Enjoy yourself while I am gone, Gwendolyn and remember what I said.”
Then he closed the door behind him, leaving me alone in the huge suite with a ball of apprehension like a block of ice melting in my stomach.
Chapter Thirteen
Gwendolyn
I tried to shake off the worry Laish’s words had caused in me and decided to just go explore the suite. I hadn’t known what to expect for accommodations during my journey through Hell but staying a night in a high-roller suite wasn’t one of them. It was a pleasant surprise—or so I tried to tell myself. But somehow his words kept echoing in my head. “Just because I may not yet make love to you doesn’t mean I don’t anticipate stroking your beautiful body and making you come…”
Seriously, what was he going to do to me? I’d never let any guy I ever dated get beyond second base—or below the belt, however you wanted to say it. Earlier when he’d cupped my pussy on the banks of the river Styx, I’d trembled against him and shamed myself by begging for more and he was only touching me outside my panties. This time I had a feeling he wasn’t going to stop—the thin barrier of silk and lace would be gone—long gone. And I was going to have those big, warm hands all over my body, whether I wanted to or not.
The problem was that deep down I wanted to—a Hell of a lot, no pun intended.
Stop it, I reminded myself firmly. He’s a demon, remember? And a demon of lust at that. No wonder it’s hard to say no to him but that doesn’t mean you have to make a fool of yourself. He wants to pay the Sin Tax—fine, there’s no getting around that. But you can pay it without gasping and begging like some horny actress in a porno at least. No matter what happens, just keep control of yourself.
Having given myself a stern lecture, I felt a little better about the situation at hand. After all, I had gone into this with my eyes open. There were just some things that would have to be done in order to achieve my goal. That didn’t mean I had to enjoy them—only that I had to endure them. And in the meantime, I was going to stop stressing about the whole mess and just go explore the opulent suite.
The sunken room with its soft black carpet had a living room area with wide, white leather couches grouped around a central fire pit. There was also well as a bar stocked with every imaginable liquor and quite a few I didn’t recognize at all. And that was saying something considering I’d done a little bartending in college before I started capitalizing on my witchy roots to make a living.
The bar area led into another room and the moment I walked in and saw the vast, king-sized bed I knew what it was for. A luxurious white fur spread covered its wide surface and mounds of plump pillows were piled against the headboard.
“Hmmm…” I ran a hand over the spread and wasn’t at all surprised to find it was real fur. Probably baby seal fur or something awful and reprehensible like that. This was Hell, after all. If they didn’t give a damn about starving kids right out on the street, they sure weren’t going to mind clubbing a few dozen seals to make a bedspread.
I pulled my hand away from the luxurious spread quickly, trying not to think about the possible source of the fur or the starving children outside the hotel. Poor things! I wished Laish would let me do something for them—I still didn’t understand why he was being so hard hearted.
Because he’s a demon, I reminded myself firmly. A demon with no soul. So don’t expect him to act like anything else and you won’t be disappointed. Still, he could be so gentle and kind with me. It seemed wrong that he wouldn’t even consider the plight of those poor little children…well, maybe I could find a way to give them something on our way out of the hotel. I sighed and went to explore some more.
The bedroom led into a large master bathroom with a black marble tub so huge it looked like you could do laps in it—a far cry from the cramped shower-tub combo in Grams’ house. I went to it eagerly and found a selection of bubble baths and scented oils in fancy bottles lined up on one side. Perfect!
I practically clapped my hands in delight. I love long, luxurious bubble baths—who doesn’t? And I almost never got to have one since the hot water heater at Grams’ house wasn’t exactly huge.
Back home I’d run half a tub of hot water before the heat ran out. I could either sit in a half-full tub or fill the rest with cold and have a tepid bath which was no fun. Here, it appeared, I could soak to my heart’s content.
“Well, I know what I’m going to be doing tonight,” I murmured to myself happily. Then the thought of Laish popped into my head. “Well…part of the night anyway.”
Then I had a thought—why not take a bath right now? Who knew how long it would take Laish to tend to Kurex? I was bored and the one thing the gorgeous hotel suite didn’t seem to have was a TV or any other kind of entertainment. Laish had told me to stay out of trouble and I couldn’t imagine a better way to do it. Besides, it would be a lot less embarrassing to be lolling around in the tub naked when I was here by myself than when he was there to watch me.
Mind made up, I began filling the tub. I was just pouring a generous dollop of some sweet, floral scented bubble bath under the running faucet when I heard a knock at the door. It was so soft that at first I wasn’t certain I’d heard anything—it was hard to h
ear over the rush of the water. Then it came again—louder this time. Someone was definitely at the door.
I felt a stab of apprehension. Who could it be? Laish had warned me not to trust anyone or to let anyone in. Should I even go look or just ignore it?
The knocking sounded again—even louder—and I decided to at least go to the door. There was a peephole in it, just under the brass number four—I had seen it as we came in. So I could look and decide if I wanted to open the door.
Quietly, I crept to the door and put my eye to the peephole. At first I didn’t see anything at all. Then a small voice said,
“Hey lady! Down here.”
Standing on my tiptoes, I tried another angle and was able to look down. To my surprise, it was the curly-headed blond boy from outside the hotel. He had something behind his back and he was looking up at me, his big blue eyes filled with hope.
“Lady,” he said again. “Are you there?”
“I’m here,” I said though the door. “What do you want sweetheart? And how did you get in here?”
“Snuck in when the guards were lettin’ somebody important in,” he said. “Got your shoe.”
He held up the other black ballet flat—the one that I’d lost in the fight with the demon in the crowded central square of Baator.
“Noticed you only had one,” he said. “And I thought…” He scuffed one bare, dirty foot in the rich carpet. “Thought you looked sad about it. So I went and found it and brought it back.” He held it higher, toward the peephole. “If you open the door I’ll give it to you.”
“Of course.” I started to unlock the door…then hesitated. Laish’s command that I not open the door to anyone still rang in my head. But surely this sweet little cherub didn’t pose a threat, did he? He’d gone out in that horrible crowd to find my shoe and risked being beaten by the doormen to sneak in and give it to me—how dangerous could he be?
I wavered for a moment but then I saw the gold chain to one side of the door. Of course—I could put the chain on and just open it a little! It seemed like a silly precaution but Laish had been so damn adamant about me not opening the door that I decided to use it.
Sliding the chain in place, I opened the door just the two inch crack it allowed. The curly little cherub was still standing there, waiting patiently and holding out my shoe.
“Here you go, lady,” he said. “You want it?”
“Of course. Thank you.”
Luckily the ballet flat wasn’t very big or it never would have fit through the crack in the door. The little boy didn’t say a word about it though—maybe he was used to not being trusted. He just shoved the thin black leather shoe through to me and turned to go.
“Wait!” The sight of his ragged little figure and hollow cheeks tore at my conscious. I mean, I try to pretend I’m a big, bad witch with a cold-ass heart but inside I’m kind of a marshmallow. When it comes to kids, anyway.
“Yeah?” He turned back hopefully, looking at me.
“You deserve a reward for going out in that awful crowd and getting my shoe for me,” I said. “In fact, you shouldn’t have gone out at all. It’s too dangerous!”
“Got to.” He shrugged. “We do it every day anyway. Sometimes people drop things—stuff to eat. You know.”
“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” I asked, my heart aching for him.
He nodded, his curls flopping adorably with the exaggerated movement.
“Oh yeah! So hungry. Always hungry cause there’s never enough to eat.”
His words gave me an idea.
“Wait here a minute,” I said and went to my leather satchel, which I’d left lying on the white leather sofa. Digging out the faded plastic Sponge Bob sandwich box, I brought it with me to the door. Since it was spelled never to be empty, I could give the little boy a sandwich to eat at least. Actually, I could give him a lot of sandwiches—maybe he could bring them back to the little ragged band of street kids and they could have a feast.
Smiling at the idea, I returned to the door and reached into the Sponge Bob box.
“Here you go,” I said to the little face, waiting just outside. “I hope you like peanut butter and strawberry jam.” Pulling out a dripping, gooey PB&J, I held it out to show him.
His big blue eyes widened.
“Wow—is that for me?”
“Sure is, sweetie.” Then I realized the thick, gooey sandwich was never going to make it through the two inch crack in the door. Not without dripping strawberry jam everywhere, anyway. And I didn’t like to think what kind of damage deposit Druaga would charge for getting strawberry jam out of his immaculate carpet and off his perfect walls.
Then I got irritated with myself.
Oh to Hell with it—this is ridiculous! He’s a little boy—it can’t hurt to open the door long enough to give him a sandwich!
“Hang on,” I told the little cherub. Reaching up one handed, I released the chain and swung the door open. Then I held the sandwich out to him. “Here you go, sweetie.”
“Thanks, Lady!”
He reached for the sandwich in my outstretched hand but as he did, something changed in his face. His big blue eyes turned pure black…an inky color that bled across the whites as well, turning his eyes to pools of midnight.
“Oh!” I was so busy watching his eyes I didn’t noticed he wasn’t reaching for the sandwich at all—he was reaching for me. And I didn’t even have a clue what was going on until his strong little hand latched onto my wrist
“So…hungry!” he hissed, baring his teeth. I saw with horror they were needle sharp—not teeth but fangs—long, sharp fangs like something out of a horror movie or the worst nightmare you’ve ever had.
“No, stop—let me go!” But his grip seemed unbreakable—he was much, much stronger than he looked. I squeezed the sandwich in a nervous spasm and strawberry jam glopped all over my arm and the carpet both. I still held the Sponge Bob sandwich holder in my other hand and I gripped it tightly while I tried to get away—to get back into the suite where I felt sure I’d be safe.
“Hungry!” hissed the little boy who was looking less and less like a cherub and more like a miniature demon every second. His dead black eyes looked up at me, filled with hunger for a lot more than just PB&J. Then he bared those horrible fangs and sank them into my arm.
I screamed as pain spiked through me, sharp as a knife and the Sponge Bob sandwich container fell from my nerveless fingers. As though my scream was a signal, the hallway was suddenly filled with ragged children—or devilkins as Laish had called them. They seemed to appear from nowhere and swarmed all over me, pulling me away from the suite door while the first little monster kept his teeth locked in the flesh of my forearm.
I cried and struggled but while I might have made headway against one, the whole band of them was too much for me. As small as they were, they were fiendishly strong. There were only about ten of them but it felt like hundreds of hard little hands pulling me away from the safety of the suite and I was afraid any minute they would start biting too—devouring me in bloody chunks like a pack of piranha right there in the middle of the hallway.
Where was Laish? Still down in the basement tending to Kurex? Could he hear me if I screamed?”
“Help—help!” I shouted. Surely someone in this huge hotel had to hear me! Surely someone would help!
Someone did but it wasn’t exactly who I’d been hoping for.
“What’s this? What’s all this?” Druaga came stomping down the hall on hoofed feet, his boar’s head swinging, the gold-capped tusks gleaming. “What’s going on here?” he snorted angrily when he saw me.
“Help me! They won’t get off me! I…I think they want to eat me!” I begged, nodding desperately at the shoving mass of black-eyed, shark-teethed devil children that were swarming all over me.
“Here, you—get off! Get off the lady, now!” The huge demon grabbed one devilkin by his ragged clothing and swung him against the wall. Then another went sailing.
At this point,
the devil kids seemed to understand that they were in danger and I wasn’t the free lunch I seemed to be.
Squealing and shouting, they scattered like ants when you drop a rock in their midst, and fled around the angry, snorting boar-demon. The last to go was the little cherub boy who still had his long, needle-sharp teeth buried in my arm. He let go just as Druaga was about to punt him aside with one hoofed foot and fled down the long hallway, his mouth still red with my blood.
“And stay out of my hotel!” the demon shouted in his deeper-than-human voice. One large hoofed foot stomped down hard in emphasis…and I heard the brittle crackling sound of old plastic breaking.
Oh no…
Heart sinking, I looked down to see my old Sponge Bob sandwich container in blue and yellow shards under Druaga’s foot—or hoof, I guess. Now what was I going to eat the rest of my journey through Hell?
But the loss of my perpetual PB&J maker was soon the last thing on my mind.
“Did they hurt you? Are you well, my lady?” Druaga bent to examine me, using the excuse to run his hairy hands all over my body—or as much as he could, anyway.
“I’m fine—really.” I backed away from him, trying to elude those groping fingers. Actually, I was anything but. I felt like I might burst into tears at any moment—so much for being a mean tough witch, huh? But for now a cold calm was on me.
Shock, I thought. I’m in shock. My mind was still trying to process what had just happened. How could the adorable band of rag-tag children who looked like they belonged in a production of Oliver Twist have turned into a vicious pack of ravenous predators and attacked me like that? It didn’t seem right—I felt dizzy and off balance. Unable to believe that it hadn’t just been a really vivid nightmare.
“…off so I can be certain you’re all right, my lady.”
“What?” The snorting voice broke into my train of thought and I looked up at the demonic hotel manager. “What did you say?”