Angel's Curse (34 page)

I unfurled the whip that Satan had so kindly provided me with and cracked it behind him, making him jump. I reached down and scratched behind his ear, as if he were a dog, and his tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth.

“Come on, Creature, my audience awaits.”

He scuttled off ahead of me, in a different direction.

“Wait, Creature,” I yelled, “where are you going?”

He stopped and waved me on. “New room, big room.
Big feast!
”

This was something different, a change to the usual routine. When Creature finally stopped, some ten minutes later, we stood in front of double doors not unlike those that led to the room where we usually dined. When he opened them, they revealed an enormous banquet hall, easily sixty metres deep and thirty metres wide, with very high ceilings, from which hung traditional chandeliers holding hundreds of lit candles. An atmosphere was being created here, and a feeling of dread spread through me. What
did
he have in store for me tonight?

The throne here was more elaborate, adorned with the wings of the archangels I had slain. I walked slowly along the red carpet, to the murmurs of the demons that sat at the tables on either side of the carpet. I cracked my whip occasionally, as if to bring them in line. Instead of my usual spot on a step of the dais, Satan beckoned me forward and pointed directly to the floor at his feet. I knelt in front of him and he looked into my eyes and smiled.

“They’re still a perfect match for mine,” he said. “Do they come and go?”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” I replied.

He took my hands and kissed each in turn. His lips were warm, not fiery hot, and they didn’t burn me at all. He raised an eyebrow and smiled conspiratorially, as if he knew something I didn’t.

“Tonight, you sit here.” He pointed to his right and two demons brought forth a blood-red velvet chair, almost the same height as his, for me to sit on.

I sat in the chair and leaned back, crossing my legs and holding the whip horizontally in both hands.

“Do put that down, Helena.”

I dropped it on the floor to my right.

“You won’t need it until later,” he whispered, winking at me.

Here we go,
I thought.

“I’m sorry we missed your training session with Rahab this morning. He was quite upset when you didn’t show up. I had to explain to him it was a girl thing,” he laughed.

“
A girl thing?
” I asked incredulously.

“What did you expect me to say to him?”

“How about the truth — red eyes, big freak-out?”

“They are so becoming,” he purred, and I shivered. I’d never heard him talk in that voice before.

“You can’t be cold, Helena, you feel hotter to the touch than usual.”

“Someone just walked over my grave,” I said.

“Your grave?” he asked.

I brushed his question aside. “It’s a mortal saying, you wouldn’t understand.”

He grinned. “Clearly not, but I have all the time in the world to learn.”

Food and drink appeared on the tables and a long line of vamps waited behind my chair for me to summon forward. I counted thirteen.

“Show them something different tonight,” Satan whispered. “Show them how many you can
have
at the same time.”

I rolled my eyes. He was referring to one on three, me being the one. I walked along the line of vamps waiting to die and picked out three — two males and one female. They followed me back to my seat. The males knelt on either side of my chair — I pulled it away from Satan’s throne to make a bit more room — and the female I lifted onto my lap. She was so small her feet didn’t touch the ground.

“Lean in,” I said to the males.

When they were in the right position I laid a hand on each of them, at the base of the neck near the shoulder, and placed my lips on the girl’s neck. She was swinging her legs, her heels knocking my shins and distracting me. I wrapped my lower legs around hers, pinning them down. Dinner — and the entertainment — had begun.

I employed a variety of methods to drain the next nine vamps — two hands, one hand, two hands and my mouth, my mouth alone, standing, sitting, dancing them around the room — and the last I saved for something a little different again, something I’d never tried before.

I pulled my chair close to Satan’s throne again and made the vampire sit in front of him. Leaning in to Satan I let my hand reach around the vampire’s throat and once my fingers melded into his skin I rubbed Satan’s arm with my free hand and nibbled his earlobe. His face remained a mask of calm, as if this was an everyday occurrence, and I reached for his chin, turning his face towards me. I kissed him full on the lips, forcing them apart with my tongue. There was no burning pain and I thought I knew why — the eyes.

Come on, Satan, take the bait. Come on!

After a few moments he responded by grasping the back of my head, pulling me closer still and kissing me wildly. The bait had been taken.

When the vampire was dry I pulled away, not only from him, but Satan as well, and smiled seductively. Satan looked at me with expectation in his eyes, and I knew I would have to play this out to its final conclusion, no matter the outcome.

The room was deadly quiet, everything forgotten. Everyone was watching us — had watched the whole exchange.

“I have something special for you, Helena,” Satan said.

He clapped his hands and the door at the end of the hall opened up and someone was wheeled in, tied securely to a wooden frame in the shape of an X. A black linen hood covered his head and he was shirtless — his back fully exposed. Now I understood why a whip had been included as part of my wardrobe.

“Pick up the whip, Helena,” Satan encouraged me. “Go and have some
fun.
”

I picked up the whip and toyed with it for a moment.

“Believe me,” Satan said, “it’s no less than he deserves, according to your standards.”

What did he mean,
my standards?

I approached the man slowly — he smelled like a mortal — cracking the whip along the way to get a better feel for it. If I didn’t do this all of my planning might be for nothing, and if this mortal was in hell surely he deserved whatever punishment I dished out?

I stood a good five metres back and cracked the whip in his direction. It licked the skin of his back and a thin red line appeared. He grunted and made a fist with his right hand. I cracked the whip again, and another thin red line appeared, within centimetres of the first.

“Put some effort into it, Helena!” Satan called out. “Perhaps you need Rahab to give you some lessons on the basic use of a whip!”

There was laughter from the sidelines. I needed to retain my credibility. I cracked the whip harder this time and a long, thick gash appeared on the man’s back. It reminded me of the werewolf claws that had once raked my back.

The mortal cried out in pain and clenched both his fists. I struck again and again, until his head flopped forward and I thought he was dead. There was little skin left on his back. It was bloodied and raw, and his pants were saturated with his blood, sweat and other bodily fluids.

“Well done,” Satan said and clapped.

I felt like I was going to be sick, and took a few deep calming breaths to settle my stomach.

“Shall we see who tonight’s mystery guest is?” Satan asked.

There were murmurs of agreement from the sidelines all wanting to know who it was.

The demons that had wheeled the miscreant into the hall stepped forward, removed the hood and threw a bucket of water onto his face to bring him around. Once he lifted his head they turned the frame so we could see him.

I gasped when I saw who it was — the preacher.

“Do you like my surprise?” Satan asked. “I thought you’d enjoy being the one to mete out his punishment.”

I snarled at the preacher, a low guttural sound. He looked up at me, his eyes full of hatred, yet he wasn’t scared — not of me.

“I might’ve known a slut like
you
would end up here,” he wheezed.

I took a few steps forward until my nose was almost touching his, peered into his eyes and smiled.

“The difference between you and me,
Neil,
is that I can leave anytime I choose. Can you?”

His eyes widened in surprise. I launched into a number of back handsprings all the way back to the dais — no mean feat with ten centimetre heels — and quickly ran around behind Satan. I draped my arms over his shoulders — between the wings of archangels — and kissed his neck. He grabbed my arms, holding me in place.

“Thank you for the present,” I murmured. “It was a
nice
surprise.”

The preacher couldn’t hear what I said from where he was. I looked up, smiling at him, and knew he was wondering what devilish thing I had whispered in Satan’s ear.

“Anytime,” Satan said, stroking my arms, “anytime.”

The preacher’s head fell forwards again.

“What are you going to do with him?” I asked.

“Throw him in the pit. You might see him occasionally from your window. Remember to smile and wave if you do,” he laughed.

He let go of my arms and clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“My friends, it’s been great fun, but I think I shall retire.”

He pulled my arms away from him and stood to leave. He’d not said
we
as he usually did.

“Wait,” I said. “Don’t go.”

“Give me one good reason to stay,” he said.

I took a deep breath and uttered two words, “The Cage.”

He grabbed my hand before I could change my mind and headed towards the doors. I was grateful his touch no longer burned. What I might have to do, before the night was done, would be quite painful if I burned.

We walked along a part of the Pleasure Dome I had not ventured down before.

“Why now, when this morning you were deadset against it?” he asked.

“Look at my eyes,” I said. “I guess I can’t fight the inevitable.”

He stopped at a doorway and laughed. The sound echoed throughout the corridor, rattling doors. He turned the handle on the door and looked back at me, smiling.

“Welcome home, Helena, welcome home.”

He pulled the door open and the sounds of laughter, screaming, and somewhere at the back of it all, music, greeted us. Demons acknowledged him wherever we went and some tried to stop him to make small talk.

“Hiya, Satan, been a long time since we saw you here,” a woman said.

“Indeed it is, Grazia. This is the only place Helena hasn’t visited.”

Were all the women here called Grazia, or only the ones that talked to Satan?

The music was getting louder.

“You said there were differences between this Cage and the one topside,” I yelled, “What are they?”

He pulled me towards a door. A sign hung from the ceiling in front of it announcing it was the
Orgy Room.

“Here demons are welcome to indulge in all their perverted desires, no matter how odd they may seem. Would you like to see?” he asked.

“That doesn’t sound so different from some of the things that went on topside. Anything else?”

Satan guided me towards another door and the sign that hung from the ceiling said
The Killing Room.

“Isn’t that a bit like the heart?” I asked.

“No, there’s no Funhouse here. That’s what the heart is for. This is where demons can experience the pain of death, whichever way they like, without actually dying.”

“Okay, I admit that’s a bit different. The killing that went on topside was permanent.” I could hear the rhythmic
thump, thump, thump
of the music more clearly now. “Where’s the music coming from?”

“Do you like to dance?” he asked.

“I
live
to dance,” I replied, swaying my hips in time to the rhythm of the pulsing beat.

“Come along then.”

He took my hand and led me to a room with a large dance floor. Others made way as we entered, and we headed towards a corner that the other demons steered clear of. I was surprised at how good a dancer he was, very natural and fluid.

We both had the moves of a predator, circling each other gracefully — dancing all the while — coming closer and closer still until our bodies touched. It got to the stage where Satan had stopped dancing and was standing quite still. I continued to writhe, treating his body as if it were a pole — albeit not the slender type I was used to — and danced around him, very provocatively, touching him very openly and suggestively.

A small crowd had gathered to watch, yet Satan didn’t seem to mind. When the song ended and something slower came on —
they slow dance in hell?
— he pulled me close and enfolded me in his arms. He shuffled me gently around the floor, taking the lead, as was appropriate for someone of his stature.