Savior From Hell (Demon Brotherhood Book 1) Page 2

  2

  Gael

  Fists clenched as I stalked down the hallway, it took everything in me not to break my knuckles against the wall. I'd done it before. Healing broken bones in a matter of hours hurt, but the pain was usually a welcome distraction. I could sure as hell use one right now to keep me from thinking about the woman in my room. I shouldn't have ever turned her.

  If she thought finding out she was a demon was the bad part, she was in for the shock of a lifetime. My choice to save her had screwed us both more than she could ever imagine. And I couldn't even tell her the whole truth. Especially not now when I had made a decision that ruined whatever slim chance she had of getting into Heaven. It would make her hate me even more than she already did.

  What had I been thinking? Oh, yeah, that's right. I hadn't. I saw her lying there, bloodied and broken, and it was like I teleported to her side. I had seconds to choose whether she lived or died and I fucked it all up. I had torn open my wrist with my teeth and lifted it to her mouth. That had been one of the stupidest decisions I'd ever made. That said a lot, considering I was sentenced to Hell for choices I made. All I could do now was try to lessen the damage.

  For that, I would need Samael. He was the leader of the Brotherhood, my small faction in Hell. Our job was to hunt down any souls that were summoned Earth-side by idiot Druids—groups of psychos on Earth who think they need to keep the balance or some shit. Honestly, the only reason we existed down here was Samael. He was obsessed with trying to redeem the unredeemable. The fact that our faction had a grand total of five demons in its ranks made it clear how successful he had been so far. But by our standards, Priscilla was good. I hoped that was enough to convince Samael to take her on. It was the only chance she had. The other factions would eat her alive.

  My knuckles white, I banged against Samael's door. It opened right away. Samael stood a good head taller, so I had to look up. The fallen angel—by choice—stared at me with eyes that glowed the same as mine. It was the one thing that gave away everyone's faction down here. It marked who had sired you with their blood. Made us all easily identifiable so we could stay separated. The denizens of Hell didn't get along within their own factions most of the time, so expecting us to get along with anyone else was too big of a risk. In fact, ever since the big guy disappeared, Hell had been in a cold war.

  It seemed like I was about to be in a war of my own. I hadn't seen Samael get pissed often, but his eyes narrowed and my blood ran ice cold. He already knew about my colossal fuckup. Having been in Hell for twenty years, there wasn't much that scared me anymore, except for Samael. Not because he was built like a goddamn titan, but because I respected him. He was the reason I was here, and he could just as easily be the reason I wasn't. That wasn't something I wanted to screw with. But it was too late for that, wasn't it?

  "Samael, I can explain," I began, wanting to curse at how weak I sounded. I didn't have a good explanation and I damn well knew it.

  "I certainly hope that is the case," Samael replied, disappointment in his voice. The kind that reminded me of my mother and cut straight to my heart. I hated that shit. "You see, Gael, Zachariah seems to think you saw fit to sire a demon yesterday evening. I told him he must have been confused. Because you would never do something so foolish."

  Damn you, Zachariah. He was my hunting partner when we went to Earth. Mostly because nobody else down here could deal with the guy. He was the oldest among us and smart as hell, but he had a mouth on him. I respected it—usually. Not right now. I didn't want Samael to think that I was hiding things from him. I had only waited this long because I wanted to be there when Priscilla woke.

  I lowered my head. "I had to save her."

  He went quiet for a moment before finally asking, "She was the one you have been watching?"

  My head shot up. "You knew?"

  "It became increasingly obvious, especially when Zachariah so often came back alone." He sighed. "Come inside."

  With heavy footsteps, I followed the towering angel inside. It wasn't unlike the rest of our rooms here, except for the fact that it was filled with stacks of books that covered every flat surface. He had a real soft spot for humans and the written word. I made sure to pick up new books for him anytime I went above to hunt. Reading was one of those things I'd learned to appreciate too, now that I wasn't running the streets day in and day out, fighting to survive every day of my life. Until I went and screwed that up last night.

  Samael took a seat at the table by his fireplace and I did the same, facing him. I kept my head high and my jaw tight, but I had enough sense to look away from him. He deserved all the respect I had to give.

  "I've been alive for millennia," Samael said with anger in his voice. "I've seen countless men and women make the same mistake. I cannot say, however, that I expected it to happen to you."

  "Siring a new demon?" It was something we had all been warned to never do.

  "No. Falling in love with a mortal."

  "I don't love her." I looked away from the fire and back at him. "It's closer to hate than anything."

  "How long have you been watching her, Gael?"

  "It's only been . . ." Ten years. I slumped back against the chair, clenching and unclenching my fists in my lap. Has it really been that long? Ten whole years since I started watching her. Ten years since I died. I hadn't meant to watch her for so long. It just happened. I lost her during a couple breakups or job changes because she was always on the run from something. Somehow I'd always found her again.

  What got me even more, though, was that she had been alone for nearly all that time. It wasn't that she didn't talk to people. She did. She wasn't shy. In fact, people seemed to really like her, but she kept them at arm's length. No, she didn't keep them there, she pushed them. Friends, family, acquaintances—they all got the shove. Nobody lasted long in her life.

  She always ate by herself, went out by herself. She kept her world small and closed off, like she was scared of what would happen if she opened the door to let anyone in. It started to frustrate me, I think. She was alone, unhappy, and got angrier with each day, but did nothing to change it. I resented her for it. If I had been given a life like that, I would've done so much differently. I wouldn't have died at the age of twenty-three. But those weren't the cards I'd been given.

  My father died shortly after my family emigrated from Mexico to America, leaving my mother with three children to support. She couldn't even speak English, yet she found four jobs and worked herself to the bone. Not once did she stop smiling for us kids. Meanwhile, from what I could tell, Priscilla had everything she could've ever wanted. Yet she was always miserable. It was as infuriating as it was fascinating. I didn't care what Samael thought. That was the reason why I watched her. A screwed-up fascination.

  "How long?" Samael repeated, more forceful this time.

  "Ten years," I admitted.

  He nodded, as if that was exactly what he expected. "You mean to tell me you've spent ten years watching over a woman because you hate her? And you saved her despite the risks? Am I supposed to believe that?" Samael smiled despite his anger. "Do you believe that?"

  "Just because I don't like someone doesn't mean I want to see them die."

  "Perhaps." Everything in his tone said he didn't believe a word. "I will try to gather the other faction leaders, but I cannot give you any guarantees. Is she prepared to go before the Tribunal?"

  "It's not like she has any other options."

  "Yes, you saw to that."

  I hardened my jaw and looked to the side. "If you'll accept her into the Brotherhood, I'll do everything I can to train her in time."

  Samael was silent for a moment. "If the other option is that she fails one of the other factions' trials, so be it. We could use another hunter."

  I didn't feel relieved. Getting Samael to put her before the Tribunal was the easy part. Things would get real once she agreed to join the Brotherhood and had to undergo her trial. And the stakes were high.


  "Thank you, Samael."

  "I'll meet with the other leaders and see if I can convince them to give her a trial. Thank me then if I am able to do so. Otherwise, I have failed you."

  That one stung. It was worse than him just being furious with me. But that was Samael. He took everything on himself. Yet I tried to assure him anyway. "You didn't force me to give her my blood."

  "I did not. However, I should have made you stop. I knew where this path led."

  Wracked with guilt, all I could do was nod. I would just have to bear his disappointment. Samael had favored me from the day I arrived in Hell. He saw me as living proof of where Heaven had failed. It was too black and white. He thought that someone like me shouldn't be down here, despite having done a lot of stupid things when I was alive.

  I didn't agree.

  I was exactly where I belonged, especially by Heaven's current standards, and I'd made my peace with it. Priscilla didn't know, but she probably would've ended up here anyway, burning in the pits. It didn't take much to earn you a spot. She could continue to hate me all she wanted. I didn't care. The feeling was mutual, no matter what Samael thought. My one concern was making sure she stayed alive. Because if she failed, she would take me down with her.

  When I returned to my room after leaving Samael's, I found the bedroom empty. I knew Priscilla hadn't gotten out, so I was expecting that she was going to do something dumb—like hide and attack me. She had no idea how much damage she could do with her new strength.

  I strained my ears, listening for breathing or footsteps, but instead, I heard the sound of the shower running. Was she still showering? I had been with Samael for well over an hour, but she could have waited to take a shower.

  I approached the bathroom slowly. Nothing suspicious. But it didn't sound like she was actively showering either. Dark thoughts crossed my mind. Had I pushed her too far? Should I have left her like I did? I went inside. I ran the risk of pissing her off, but I didn't care. Maybe another part of me wanted to piss her off. I frowned when I didn't immediately see her through the foggy glass. My eyes drifted down, and I saw a crumpled form propped against the wall. I cursed and ran for the door.

  When I flung it open, wide eyes stared back at me. Priscilla’s full chest was barely hidden behind her knees. In stark contrast to how I found her the other night, her skin was flushed and smooth, the dirt and blood washed away. Her black hair was slicked back, drawing attention to her strong features.

  "What the hell is wrong with you?" she shouted. "Get out!"

  I folded my arms. "Thought you might've died in here."

  "Can demons even die?" she bit back.

  "I'm sure you'll find out the hard way."

  "Fantastic," she scoffed. "Thank you, Gael. Really. Giving me the chance to experience death twice is incredibly generous of you."

  Watching her berate me from the floor of my shower, naked and soaking wet, I was almost tempted to smile. I shoved the urge down and arched a brow instead. "You really know how to make a guy regret saving your life."

  She shot to her feet, knocking me senseless in a second flat just from the sight of her body—even more perfect now that it was filled out with lean muscle. She seemed to have forgotten her nudity entirely as she strode toward me, anger spurring her forward. She jabbed a finger straight into the middle of my chest and snarled. I didn't know how to feel about how eagerly my body responded. God damn, she does angry well.

  "Did you consider," she hissed through her teeth, "waking up as a demon might come as a shock? All of this might make sense to you, but I have no idea what's going on right now. For all I know, I could be handed a pitchfork and told to go torture people. That's not something I want to do."

  "You won't have to torture anyone unless you choose to join Ronove's faction."

  "Yeah, see, that's part of the problem." She ran the tip of her tongue over one of her canines as she let out a bitter laugh. That meant she was really pissed off. The moment her tongue did that, the gloves were off. "Who the fuck is Ronove? What are factions? You can't just spout this stuff off and expect me to bobble-head along. I'm a living, breathing, emotional—" She closed her eyes, held up a hand, then took a deep breath. I was tempted to use the moment to look down. It'd been far too long since I had seen a woman naked, especially one that looked so damn good.

  I forced myself to keep my head up even though it nearly hurt. "You done? I'll start explaining if you are."

  Her eyes flew open, bright with the sort of fury that made my body harden in an instant. Fuck self-control, I wanted to take her right here and now.

  3

  Priscilla

  As Gael's eyes drifted down my body, I slowly realized I'd been so angry that I completely forgot where I was and how I was dressed—rather, how I wasn't dressed. I didn't care that I was naked, it was that he was obviously enjoying himself. He didn't have that right. Especially not after what he had done to me.

  "Do you mind?" I snapped.

  He took his time lifting his eyes back up to mine. My stomach did a little flip when he gave me a crooked smile. "You don't seem to."

  Eyes narrowed, I pushed him to the side and stepped out of the shower. His hand clasped around my wrist, stopping me beside him. He leaned over to whisper in my ear, "Demon is a good look on you."

  "Screw you." I yanked my wrist from his grasp. Despite how high I held my head, my heart was in my throat as I walked over to the hook to fetch my towel. The bathroom was so silent I could hear the droplets from my body hitting the floor. I had to hope he couldn't hear the marching band that was my pulse. I didn't want to give him that satisfaction.

  I shot a glance over my shoulder and caught him nearly leaning sideways. I scoffed, unfurled the towel, then whipped it around myself, instantly relieved to have something between his eyes and my body. Deep down, I knew it wasn't because I didn't like him looking—I did, and that infuriated me. My body clearly couldn't be trusted to behave rationally. When I turned back around, his smile had turned into a full-blown smirk. It was like he knew what I was thinking.

  "Good to see being a demon doesn't make you any less of a human male," I grumbled as I shoved the towel into a sloppy tuck and strode out into the bedroom.

  He followed after me with a chuckle. "Sorry that I liked what I saw."

  I stopped in my tracks and whirled around to face him once more. "Enough, alright? What's the deal? You just going to keep me locked up down here? Your little demon princess in a dungeon?"

  "You would be much happier with that than what you have to do." The glow in his eyes turned strangely dim for a moment. "You're going to have to go before the Tribunal. They'll decide whether you're fit to undergo a trial or not."

  "Trial for what? My sins?"

  "Lucky for you, no." He paused and lifted an eyebrow. I didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "If they allow you to undergo a trial, you will be given tasks chosen by the leader of your faction to prove that you're worthy of serving in Hell."

  "Who are these people and why do they get to judge me?"

  "They're Lucifer's lieutenants, among the oldest of all demons."

  If that was meant to scare me, it was highly effective. I couldn't even begin to imagine what I would have to do to prove myself. I didn't know that I would be able to. I had always been a fantastic test taker, but something told me this might be the first one I wouldn't pass with flying colors. Although I didn't want to ask the next question, I braced for the worst and forced myself to say the words. "And what if I fail?"

  "You'll be sent to the pits of Hell to burn for eternity."

  I stared back at him, expression blank. Although I knew on a basic level that I was definitely in the underworld, being in this closed-off, windowless room had somehow made it less daunting. I had mostly been able to convince myself that I had a chance to make it down here. But the moment Gael told me that I would burn for eternity, that gauzy disbelief was stripped away, revealing the ugly truth I'd been trying in vain not to see. As if
being a demon and in Hell wasn't bad enough, it could apparently get much, much worse.

  I bit hard on my inner cheek as my heart raced wildly. I wanted to bolt for the door, fling it open, and run. That was my answer for most things and it usually worked out. But where would I go? I didn't know. Because I didn't know anything anymore. I was living in my own personal nightmare.

  I excelled in school because I was a glutton for information. I had to know everything. Even in my adulthood, I spent many an hour abusing the convenience of the internet to binge on topics that didn't apply to me at all. But there was no preparing for this. There were no books, wikis, or documentaries I could study. I was being tossed to the wolves with no warning and no way to defend myself.

  "What did I ever do to you?" I asked in a low voice. "Why did you do this to me?"

  His expression iced over in an instant, then he looked away.

  "No, answer me. I want to know why you're torturing me. What did I do to deserve this?"

  He jerked his focus back to me. "Torturing you? I think I've been pretty fucking accommodating."

  "You condemned me to Hell, threatened me, then left me in a room, confused and alone." I took a step forward, eyes hard on his. "If that's being accommodating, how do you treat the people you hate?"

  "You should know." He clenched and unclenched his jaw. "You're experiencing it."

  "So, you hate me now, do you?" I let out a hollow laugh. "You don't even know me. Besides, you're the one forcing me to stay here. I would be more than happy to leave."

  He gave me a tight smile, then held his hands up and took a step back. He looked like he had so much to say, but instead he turned and headed for the door.