“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”
He nuzzled his giant nose against the hand that wasn’t currently petting him. I tensed, but then she giggled.
“Joriel, come here. He’s supersoft.”
I wasn’t so ready to trust the hellhound. I moved cautiously, afraid that any sudden movement would prompt him to attack Laila. He completely ignored me, his whole focus on the angel who was currently lavishing him with attention. Couldn’t say I blamed him. Laila was a little slice of Heaven in the middle of Hell. I wasn’t sure anyone could resist her.
When I was close enough that she could reach me, Laila grabbed my hand and lifted it to the hellhound’s chest. “See? Doesn’t he have the softest fur ever?”
She wasn’t exactly wrong, but no part of me wanted to be petting the beast. “Laila—”
“Shh. I’m naming him Furry.”
Oh, for the love of everything holy. “Laila, we need—”
“Furry, do you mind moving so we can get through the tunnel?” she asked, ignoring me completely.
The hellhound—Furry—looked at her with adoring, sad eyes. It was like he was asking her not to leave him.
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m going to miss you too.”
Furry let out a mournful whine.
Laila leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the hound’s neck. “I won’t forget you, I promise.”
I stared with wide eyes as Furry scooted to the side, creating an opening large enough for Laila and me to walk through.
“Thank you, Furry.” Laila dragged me past the hellhound, who seemed fine with letting us walk right past him.
“I think your calming powers work on animals,” I told her.
“That wasn’t my powers. It was love and kindness. Furry needs affection just like anyone else. He’s not the enemy.”
She stopped short where the rock tunnel abruptly ended, turning to a narrow bridge that hovered over a five-foot drop.
Spread below us was a crowd of skeletons. There weren’t the bleached-white kind that humans put up in October. They were gray and looked as if their bones were already starting to decay. They gave the hellhound a wide berth, leaving several feet of bare white sand, but seemed to take up every other inch of space, crawling over each other. Some of them weren’t even tall enough to see over the bridge.
“What is this place?” Laila asked, her eyes roving over the scene, her horror palpable.
“The realm of dead souls.” My knowledge of the seven circles of Hell was pretty limited. I knew the basic layout but didn’t know what to expect when we got to each of them. “As far as I know, this is where the humans who rejected Father but weren’t particularly evil when they were alive end up.”
Laila looked around at the skeletons, her eyes welling with tears. “What do they do here?”
“I don’t think they do anything,” I said, looking over the writhing sea of bones and skulls. “I think they just are.”
“Like I was in the prison realm.”
“No.” I turned her to face me. “You’re nothing like these people. You never rejected Father. You trusted the wrong person. That isn’t the same, Laila.”
“Is there something we can do to help them?”
I shook my head. “I think it’s too late for that.” I lifted her into my arms again since there was no way I was letting her within touching distance of the damned.
Laila’s arms wrapped around my neck, almost like it was an automatic reaction.
“Don’t look, sweetness,” I murmured, hoping she’d listen to me.
Everyone here had dug their own grave. They’d chosen to reject eternal life, but I knew it hurt Laila to see them here. It was sad to see those who failed to make it to God’s court.
