Three weeks later
Hell slumbered in darkness, broken only by the occasional pulse of volcanic light or distant whimpering of the damned. Chained to a sentry rock, Cerberus laid one sleepy head on his massive paws and used the mouth of a second head to bite at an itch on his back, while the third kept watch on the road leading upwards out of the infernal realms. His itch conquered, the second head curled itself against his enormous flank and began to doze.
There was a slight squeak, tumbling out of the wind from the upper air. Cerberus’ third head pricked up its pointed ears and his eyes flashed red with the beginnings of alarm.
Another squeak and a squeal, louder this time, and the beginnings of a light could be seen at the road’s vanishing point in the distance. It was not the red, fiery light of Hell, but rather a steady white glow, pure and clean and hurtful on Cerberus’ dark-accustomed eyes. His other two heads snorted themselves awake, shaking with a great flap of ears, as the light grew brighter and brighter and the squeaks and squeals louder. It was a piercing, uneven sound now, as though someone had taught several rusty hinges how to feel pain and then sadistically run them through a meat grinder.
Cerberus’ three heads all began to whimper and his body began twisting with agony and panic. He had six ears, but only four paws. As the source of the sound crested the nearest hill, the hellhound raised all his heads to the darkness above and howled in three-part cacophony.
The morning had no sooner crept over the peak of Mount Seek-no-further than something flashed into existence before Idared’s still-sleep-lined eyes.
She reached out and plucked from the air a glowing scroll. Unfurled, it summoned her to the infernal palace for an audience with Lucifer himself.
“Is that common?” yawned Lambourne from behind her.
“No, it is not,” said Idared. She could feel his thick erection warm on the small of her back and all at once she realized how cold her bed would feel without him in it. Suddenly she would have given everything—every badge of rank, every Hellish promotion—to keep this man with her for the rest of her immortal life.
He pressed his lips to the tense line of her shoulders and wrapped those strong arms around her. “Either it’s nothing, or they’ve found us out,” he said. “If it’s nothing, then there is no point in worrying. If they’ve found us out, well—it was worth it.”
“I hope so,” said the demoness, “because they’ve bade you to come with me.”
“Ah. That does seem discouraging, doesn’t it?”
“You cannot imagine the tortures they’ll put you through,” Idared whispered.
She felt his wry smile against her skin. “It’s nothing compared to what you do to me.” Idared didn’t know if he was referring to her means of punishment or pleasuring—nor did she care. She kissed him as deeply as she dared, but in their mingled breath was a sigh of despair.
They obeyed the summons.
The once-fallen angel and present Lord of Hell was dressed in his usual black eveningwear, but his posture on his sinister throne was far from regal. In all honesty: he slumped, head in hand, his terrible eyes blazing with vast irritation and something that looked very like fear.
Beside him, standing with impeccable posture in a rather scorched gown of sky- blue muslin, was a proud young woman with brown-red hair, pale skin and a face ablaze with determination. She held an old violin and bow in a manner best described as threatening. Several infernal minions stood around her, poised to strike. The lady sent them an occasional warning glare but kept most of her glowering attention on Lucifer himself.
When Idared dropped Lambourne gently to the ground, the young woman gave a shocked cry and averted her eyes. “My lord!” she cried. “You are naked!”
Lambourne seemed equally shocked, though not at all for the same reason. “Virginia!” he exclaimed. “How on earth did you—that is, what in the bloody hell are you doing in Hell?”
“Miss Greening is here to reclaim the soul of her fiancé,” Lucifer explained. His majestic voice held a distinctly long-suffering tone.
“Fiancé?” Idared whispered. Her lover belonged to someone else. The demoness’s heart cracked within her and the slow, red burn of rage pushed at the weakened spot.
Under Idared’s questioning glower, Lambourne found his voice. “But we’re not engaged! Our parents wanted the match—but I joined the army instead.”
“And your parents told everyone you were planning to offer for me when you returned,” Miss Greening insisted. Lambourne visibly winced and the young woman continued. “I’ve been considered affianced for nearly ten years now—and if you won’t marry me, there is nobody else. There was a book in Father’s library that talked about demons and passing through Hell and... I decided to try and bring you back. I thought you might be grateful.” Idared could see tears in the fabric of the lady’s dress and a few scratches and scrapes on her ankles. She could almost admire the kind of courage it took to make such a journey when one was mortal and so easily wounded.
“So you just assumed I’d be in Hell?” Lambourne demanded.
“I turned out to be right, didn’t I?” Miss Greening shot back.
“More importantly,” said Lucifer, rubbing at his horned temples, “it turns out that she has an airtight legal case.”
“Excuse me?” said Idared. Her sympathy for Miss Greening wicked out like a snuffed candle.
The fallen angel continued. “It is an old clause, grandfathered in from pagan times. A loophole that ought to have been closed long ago. You have heard the story of Orpheus and Eurydice?”
“This is ridiculous,” said the demoness.
Lucifer went on as though she hadn’t spoken. “The young woman died from a snakebite and her lover came here to bring her soul back from the underworld. His music was so lovely that even the dead were moved, and Hades—my lamented predecessor—promised the girl would accompany her beloved back to the mortal world. All he had to do was not turn around until they reached the upper air.”
“And the idiot failed completely and lost his love a second time,” Lambourne said.
Everybody looked at him.
He returned their stares and shrugged, muscles moving beneath his skin. “I had as classical an education as anyone—and I paid particular attention, since so many of those ancients wrote some very naughty things.”
“I am not as foolish as Orpheus,” said Miss Greening, “and I came prepared.” She scraped the bow across the strings of the violin with a sound like a cat.
“No more of that!” said Lucifer, but his usual thunderous tone was merely a distant storm. “You’ll take your prize,” he snarled at the girl, “and you will get out of my kingdom as fast as your mortal feet can carry you.”
Idared could not help but protest. “But this is impossible!” she said. “He is dead and damned for his sins.”
“There is nothing I can do,” said the fallen angel. “She has infernal law on her side.”
“Idared,” said Lambourne, turning away from the girl and taking the demoness’s hands, “I swear that I’ll return to you, if I have to throw myself off the nearest bridge to do it.” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, which went pale green with the force of her grip as her hands clutched at his.
Miss Greening’s eyes narrowed. “My lord, this creature of Hell has seduced you.”
“Damn right she has,” said Lambourne against Idared’s delicate skin.
One minion took advantage of the distraction to reach out hungrily to seize Miss Greening. The bow scraped the strings again, sounding this time like a cat in love. Everybody winced and glared at the young lady, who was frowning in thought. Said Miss Greening, “This is a hard cross to bear.” She failed to notice how Lucifer and Idared both shuddered at the word cross. “I’ve come so far. Do you...” She turned to the damned lord and suddenly she looked very fragile, this girl who had crossed the infernal plains with only a violin as a shield. “Do you love her?”
“I do,” Lambourne said gently. He turned to look at Idared. “And I wish I’d told her so before now.”
If Idared had thought her heart broken earlier, she was disabused now. This was a pain greater than any she’d ever inflicted on a soul in torment. There were no words that could see her through such agony.
“I see,” Miss Greening said, looking at the demoness. For a moment the lady wilted, but then took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Then I shall return alone to the mortal world and trouble you no further. And there will be no more talk of—of self- slaughter,” she went on mulishly.
“On that point, the odious Miss Greening and I quite agree,” added the Lord of Hell. The lady scowled to hear the epithet. “However,” Lucifer continued, “I have made my decision according to the laws and I will not be gainsaid. Once you are past the boundaries of my demesne, my lord, you will be barred from Hell—and indeed, from Heaven, as you will not be able to die a second time. And as for Miss Greening herself, when she shortly comes to the end of her mortal lifespan, I’m not going to touch her— nor will any of my minions or underlings,” grumbled Lucifer. “My instructions on this point shall be very explicit indeed. She can go to Heaven, if she goes anywhere at all.”
The rage of a demoness is a dreadful thing to rouse. Idared had seen and heard enough. Her wings snapped open and her tail cracked with fury. She raised her whip arm with the idea of slicing away every string on that paltry mortal’s musical instrument...
And her whip burst into flames in her hand. She yelped and dropped the weapon, cradling her injured hand against her body.
“You will obey me!” bellowed the Lord of Hell as flames burst up around his throne and lit the room with a blinding, terrible light. “You will all obey me!”
The crackle of fire was loud in a room suddenly free of conversation.
The flames dimmed slightly, but did not die. “Make your farewells, my lord,” commanded Lucifer. “We shall not be seeing you again.”
Miss Greening’s face was pale and fearful as she sent a regretful glance toward Idared, but the damage had been done. Lucifer’s decree was the highest law in Hell.
Idared turned to Lambourne, pressed herself full-length against him and kissed him. If she’d known how to die from a kiss, she might have done it. Instead, she merely concentrated on burning this one last taste of him into her memory. This kiss would have to last forever.
His mouth against hers was just as desperate and his body shook even as he pulled himself away. “I will not forget you,” he whispered.
“No,” said Idared sadly, “you will not.”
Miss Greening took her revenge on the fallen angel by making the violin yell like a cat in love being pressed through a fine mesh screen. “Of all the mortals I’ve met in my extremely long life,” said Hell’s king, “you are by far the worst. Take your prize and depart.” Lucifer’s eyes lit with flame and, with a snap of his pointed fingers, he vanished, taking his minions with him.
The demoness watched as the human couple trudged away down the winding path that led to Hell’s earthly exit. Lambourne turned around to look at her a few times before such glances became unreadable with distance. Idared tried to memorize the way his legs moved as he walked, the set of his shoulders and the slope of his neck as he craned his head around for one last look. Miss Greening never turned her head— more’s the pity— but she occasionally scraped the bow against the strings to keep the many sinister creatures of Hell at a comfortable distance.
Idared couldn’t even muster relief at the thought that the violin was out of hearing range.