the air still heavy with the smell of sulfur, with the heat of the fires.
She was there, on the other side, still limping slowly closer. Aside from the horns— which weren't just on fire but were a gleaming gold, curling back and ridged like a ram's—this was absolutely the woman I'd been fucking in my sleep. Except battered. She was soot marked, and I couldn't tell if the blue stains on her temple, shoulder, and her knee as it peeked through a long tear up her skirt, were blood or something else.
Her eyes held mine and the world seemed as quiet as it had in my dreams, her face bobbing over the corner of a large crucifix. I kept waiting for her to stop, to wince away from the gate like the rest of her kind, but she just hobbled closer until she was inches away. Then less.
I could hear Kais calling my name behind me from a distance, but it was muffled. Her breath was sweet, brushing over my face as she leaned into the gate, embracing it in a way I'd never seen from a hellion before. There was pain in her gaze but she sighed, knees giving out. The flames dressing her vanished as she embraced the gate.
"Sanctuary, Stavros," she whispered, eyes fluttering shut.
3
I’m Not Afraid of God
Deyva
I smiled at the three familiar faces glowering down at me. A neon light bulb flickered overhead and they blocked the door of the small shed they'd thrown me into. We were still outside their gates and I tried to contain my shudder, my wrists tied at my back and shoulders pulling uncomfortably.
I needed to get in. I needed to get behind those gates where Hell couldn't reach me. Sooner rather than later, because there had to be something, someone coming to find me. Kimaris had tossed me out to teach me a lesson. I had absolutely no intention of allowing him to drag me back.
"What are you?" Zach asked, and I smiled at the open curiosity. I knew that curiosity intimately. Zach liked asking questions and finally, outside of the dream, I could answer.
"Succubus," I said, watching the big one, Stavros—who moaned and pleaded and clutched me tightest—cross his arms over his chest. As if he could protect himself from me.
"Why have you come here?" Kais asked, stepping forward.
My gaze flicked nervously to the black gun in his hand. I didn't have enough energy stored up to heal from a gunshot. Not quickly at least. And I was pretty sure none of the men in front of me would be volunteering to feed me anytime soon.
"For sanctuary," I said, eyeing each of them and leaning against the still-hot metal of the shed. The warmth felt good actually, more like the home I'd run from. And I was getting shivery and hungry after the journey.
"From what?" Zach asked, head tipping.
"Hell."
Kais raised the gun and I flinched at last. "Wait—"
A cool, wet splash struck my shoulder, my mouth open and ready to beg, body tense. My head turned and I watched the water run down my bare arm, rinsing away some of the blood with it. Relief rushed through me and a giggle escaped.
"The fuck?" Stavros whispered, stepping forward and crouching down, eyes narrowed on my shoulder.
I looked up at Kais, pale and stiff, eyes wide as if he hadn't really believed he'd just done that, and even worse, that it hadn't harmed me.
"I'm not like them. I'm not afraid of God," I said, watching Kais' stare rise slowly.
"You don't come from Hell?" Zach asked, brightening.
"Welllll." I tipped my head side to side. "Not originally."
Zach pushed in front of Stavros, the young priest’s face hardening as he grabbed for the wooden cross dangling around his neck. He thrust it out toward me, a string of Latin bursting out of his mouth.
“I’m impressed, Zach, but do you mind if we stick to English? Dead languages aren’t all that useful anymore and I’d already jumped ship from Earth by the time the Romans rolled up.”
His mouth dropped open, plush lips practically begging for a kiss if he didn’t look so shocked.
“It’s a trick. It has to be.” That beautiful mouth tightened into an angry scowl. “She came to us in our dreams to lower our defenses, to soften us to her so a Hellion could slip past the gate.”
Stavros stroked his beard, those same rough bristles I enjoyed on my inner thighs, while Kais copied his cross-armed stance. A bolt of panic struck