I gathered all my hair, pulling it forward, over my right shoulder, and raking my fingers through the tangled strands. I’d need a facial and a deep conditioning treatment by the time this was through.
Footsteps echoed from one end of the hallway, bouncing off the other end until it sounded like they came from all around me. My heart tried to jump into my throat, but I swallowed hard and rose to my feet, instinctively reaching for the dagger that should have been strapped to my leg. I was defenseless inside this magic-proof box, so I dug in deep and poured all my vim into what Discord called my wicked silver tongue.
The power had nothing to do with my tongue, really. It was a sort of inborn glamour, a way for me to make myself appear more confident, capable, and smart. Confidence was the key, and when I spoke, it sounded like I was the authority on whatever topic I discussed. It helped that I was the eldest sister, the first in line to become High Priestess as soon as my mom retired.
I’d been training for leadership my whole life, and this special little power came in handy on the daily. People looked up to me. I had to at least appear like I wouldn’t let them down, even when I felt like I would.
I steeled myself, lifting my chin to add to the glamour as Discord stepped into view. “Oh, it’s just you.” I let out a slow breath.
“Come with me.” He extended a claw and twisted it in the lock. The electrified gate that had nearly turned me into chicken-fried witch thunked and opened about half a foot.
I nibbled on my bottom lip, contemplating my options. My boots had rubber soles. Rubber didn’t conduct electricity, so in theory, I could kick it open and run through without melting off my toenails. But that theory involved the electricity being mundane, and I highly doubted the Prince of Hell relied on human technology to keep his prisoners at bay.
I could attempt to squeeze through the narrow opening, but Mother Nature had blessed me with too much junk in the trunk for that to be feasible. With my luck, I’d nick the bar with a butt cheek and end up with a rump roast to make Sir Mix-a-Lot cry.
Thankfully, my captor didn’t give me time to ponder any more ways to cook myself. He grabbed a bar and pinned me with a warning stare. “I’m going to open the gate. I advise you not to try and escape.”
“That’s your advice, eh?” I inched toward the threshold, cutting my gaze right and left, calculating my chances. “Afraid I can outrun you?”
“Not at all, but we are currently in the eighth level of Hell. Even if you made it back to the first level, you’d be stuck. No one gets out without Lucifer’s blessing, and he’s not the most generous man you’ll ever meet.”
“Orpheus did it.” I jutted out my chin.
“And look how it worked out for Eurydice.”
“Dante then.”
“Virgil, I am not. Come, Lucifer expects us in an hour. We must appear presentable.” He swung the gate open, and I did what any smart woman who’d written herself a one-way ticket to Hell would do.
I stepped into the hall, spun in a circle to take in my surroundings, and waited by his side. Listen, I wasn’t an idiot. If Lucifer knew I was there and had sent word that he wanted to see me, what chance did I have on my own?
Zip.
I wasn’t in the mood to have my soul shredded by the King of Hell, so I’d better play make believe and at least appear like I was worthy of his company. If he wanted to slice my existence into strips and fry me like bacon, he’d have done it already, right?
“This way.” Discord grabbed my biceps and dragged me down the hall.
I tried to jerk from his grasp, but his hands were huge, completely encircling my arm, and man, oh man, was he strong. “I can walk on my own.”
“I’m sure you can.” He tugged me harder, and the atmosphere thickened. Heat and oppressive humidity gathered around me, pressing, squeezing until I thought my eyes would pop from their sockets.
One step forward. Two steps. It felt like I was moving through a gelatin mold until…pop. The pressure dissipated, and the darkness around me bled into light. I gasped and pressed a hand to my chest. If I’d had pearls, I would’ve clutched them.
A city stretched out before me, the towering buildings made of basalt and obsidian glass. A stream of lava flowed down the center of the street, and arched foot bridges connected the two sides at varying intervals. The sky was deep orange, and clouds in twenty shades of red stretched across a golden… I couldn’t tell if it was a moon or a sun, but its light cast the city in an eerie glow.
An obsidian palace rose in the distance, blocking my view of the horizon. Black glass reflected the orange light, making it appear to glow, and spiraling turrets jutted upward, extending into the clouds.
I turned around, peering behind me toward the exit, but it wasn’t there. “How?”
“My prison is in a secret location. A pocket in the realm that only I and the lead sentry dog can find.” He tugged me into the city. “We must get inside before we draw attention.”
We strode up the right side of the lava stream and passed a bar where demons and humans alike tossed back brews and shouted drunkenly. Heavy metal music drifted from an open window, and a beastie with yellowish-gray scales lifted a pint in my direction, his smile revealing dozens upon dozens of cylindrical, pointed teeth.
The savory scents of meat and spice drifted from the next storefront, where a woman with brown leathery wings stood at a counter, rolling dough. The sign above the door read Lilithina’s Meat Pies.
My stomach growled, and I slowed my stride. “Any chance we can make a pitstop for a pie?”
Discord tugged me along. “Lucifer will provide a feast unlike any you’ve ever seen. Enjoy it, as it may be our last.”
