Snowballs in Hell (2 page)

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Authors: Eve Langlais

Tags: #Paranormal, #Romantic Comedy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #Angels, #Demons & Devils, #Werewolves & Shifters, #Witches & Wizards, #Romance

BOOK: Snowballs in Hell
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As I walked with brisk steps, Auric’s words of warning stirring my mind, I thought over everything that happened in the last few weeks. For one, I’d finally met the love of my life and gotten rid of my pesky cherry–my father was so proud. That Auric had turned out to be a fallen angel had been a bit of a shock at the time, especially considering he’d originally planned to kill me. But then he’d met me and fallen in love and decided to forgo Heaven in order to be with me. Nothing said true love like watching my lover choose eternal damnation to be with me. Of course with my dad running things in Hell, the only way Auric would suffer would be if he hurt me.

My name? Satana Muriel Baphomet, the bastard daughter of Satan. I stand about five foot eight–almost eleven in my awesome stilettos. I have a lush figure—think Betty Boop not a washing board—with ass length chestnut hair. My seemingly ordinary brown eyes light up with the flames of Hell when I’m annoyed, and I have full lips made for sucking cock, or so Auric’s told me. I am twenty-three years old and madly in love–and horny–

with my live in boyfriend, Auric. My father was so proud I’d chosen to live in sin.

Speaking of dad, I hadn’t heard from my father, Lucifer, much since the incident in Hell. I snorted and the people I passed on the sidewalk skirted me with strange looks.

Incident–that word made what happened to me seem so trivial, and yet it had been traumatizing enough that I now had nightmares. The nutshell version—Auric had been captured and tortured in order to lure me in a trap. In order to save him, I’d traded myself, but I didn’t go down without a fight. But in the end, a mysterious being whose face I never saw, hidden as it had been by a hood, had almost won the day. If it hadn’t been for Auric coming to save me, along with my father and reinforcements, I’d be dead. Not exactly a great state to be in. Since the attempt on my life and sanity, things had been quiet, too quiet. And I didn’t like it–a girl needed exercise to stay in shape and keep her skills sharp.

I wondered if dad had made any head way yet on the identity of the mysterious cloaked figure. Just the thought of that hooded being made me break into a cold sweat even though the sun shone warm and bright.

I knew dad wouldn’t rest until he found something out. He didn’t like pretenders to his throne, and I really looked forward to when we caught the bastard because I had some torture of my own I longed to inflict.

Approaching the bar, my step slowed and I stopped. My pride and joy, The Nexus, a bar for magical and special beings, and I owned it lock, stock and mortgage. Even better, I hadn’t had to sell my soul to dad for it. Being related didn’t mean he hadn’t tried, but I was wise to his tricks and had managed to keep my soul, thank you very much.

But back to the Nexus. Originally, I’d wanted to make it a karaoke bar, but being practical minded, and with Auric’s help, I’d opted to buy an LCD for my first big entertainment investment. I’d lost a lot of business during the previous season of
Survivor: Burn in Hell
and I didn’t plan to miss out when the next reality show,
Hell’s
Kitchen: Stay Out Of The Pot
, started. I already had flyers done up promoting it and planned to start a betting pool on who would end up winning. I also looked forward to the next Damned channel special event,
USS–Ultimate Soul Survival
, where the only rule was to stay alive. Watching the fights usually went hand in hand with copious amounts of drinking, which meant money in my pocket. Ka-ching!

I did have a small dance floor where my special clients could rock to tunes on my jukebox, which only had hits from the eighties—a time when music didn’t suck and love ballads made a girl wet her panties. Thankfully, my patrons put up with my eclectic tastes seeing as how I was the safest bar for supernaturals around. Of course it might have had something to do with the fact that spelled magic wouldn’t work around me, something to do with my special genes I was sure. Anyone who thought that wasn’t a big deal had never seen a sorceress drunk on too many chocolate martinis–the term lightning bolts from her fingertips often applied with charring results. Because of the magical void on my place, the worse anyone had to put up with were drunken covens singing off key while their mascara ran, which according to some people was worse. But I digressed.

I was proud to say my bar had become the hottest spot in and out of Hell–and places in between–for those that were special–AKA not human. I had several staff–dryads for barmaids, the more the better as the concept of schedule and time didn’t really work with them, what with their wooden skulls and all. Then there was Percy, my doorman and bartender. With the biggest hands of anyone I’d ever met, he knew how to straighten out those who thought they could get rowdy–only idiots messed with giants, even half ones.

Not too many people know of my title of princess of Hell, I preferred to go incognito. It saved on furniture as the most common reaction to them finding out my identity tended to be “kill the daughter of Satan.” Like, hello, did it never occur to them to hate me on my own merit? Sometimes it sucked having a famous father.

Putting out bowls of tobasco flavored peanuts and napkins no one would probably use, I hummed away to the INXS tune of “Devil Inside,” not knowing my quiet life was about to change.

* * * *

Exhausted, but a lot richer—the bar had sold an obscene amount of booze–I began my walk home. This was the first time since I’d met Auric that I didn’t have company.

And to my annoyance, I missed it. Auric usually held my hand when we walked home, or on lucky nights, we flew. He might be a fallen angel, but due to a deal he brokered with my dad –where he actually kept his soul–he gained a pair of shadow wings. I loved it when he held me and swooped through the night like a dark knight preparing to debauch me.

Lost in my thoughts, I almost walked right into the trap, but luckily for me, the stench of demon acted like smelling salts. I snapped to attention. Scanning the darkness around me, the street lamps on this section of the sidewalk dead–or intentionally broken–

I listened for a sound to tell me in which direction they would be coming.

I pulled my silver enchanted blades from my thigh holsters and palmed them, a quick chant invoking the fire within them. A whisper of sound behind me made me spin, my foot arcing out and connecting with something that gave an
oomph
. One demon, piece of cake.

Said demon leered at me toothily and whistled. Noise filled the night air as several demons came out of the darkness and surrounded me.

Shit.

I eyed the encroaching demons and really wished I had my Hell blade, I would have sliced through their ranks like a knife through butter. Sadly, it didn’t go well with most of my outfits, so I’d just packed my knives.

I knew I’d still prevail; I did have my magic which would surely take care of a few.

The rest would taste the keen edge of my blades.

I grinned, baring my teeth at the demons and beckoned them. Never show fear. Then again I didn’t actually fear these demons. On the contrary, I could feel the adrenaline rushing through my body and my eyes lit with the flames of Hell, a clue usually to get your ass out of my way.

But being stupid minor demons who obeyed orders without thought, these minions from Hell, tightened their circle around me.

In a slashing and dancing concert of death, I twirled and cut, downing and injuring the demons that surrounded me. When a meaty arm wrapped around my waist from behind and lifted me, my magic kicked in. Stupid and unpredictable, it only ever seemed to work when I was in dire danger.

Words of power filled my mind and rolled off my tongue in dark waves that spread from me and engulfed the demons. With shrieks and eyes that finally registered something–fear–they disintegrated into piles of ash.

Silence suddenly reigned. The only sign of the battle: a sifting cloud of ash. I coughed and fell to my knees, my body weak from all the magic I’d just expended. I heard pounding steps on the pavement and looked up to see a hooded figure jogging towards me.

“No!” I cried out faintly.

Panic set in and my mind shut down.

Chapter Two

I regained consciousness lying in bed, the rumbling sound of Auric talking to someone letting me know I wasn’t alone.

“Do something,” snarled Auric loudly. He turned, his body taut with tension and caught me watching him. Instant concern flooded his features.

“I gotta go. She woke up,” he said to whomever he spoke to on the phone, then he hung up. He strode over to the bed, six plus towering feet of masculine annoyance and worry.

“Are you okay? What the Hell happened?”

“Demons attacked. I fought back. No big deal. I obviously survived.” Auric raked his fingers through his hair. “Don’t be so fucking nonchalant about this, Muriel. You’re lucky David happened to come along when he did. And by the way, he’s not impressed that you keeled over face first on the pavement when you saw him.” I winced as I remembered. I wanted to blame my swooning bit on my depleted strength from the fight but the truth? The damned hood had sent me into panic mode and I’d fainted like some pussy little girl. Not that I’d tell Auric that of course.

I lied. “I used more magic than I thought and passed out. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Next time?” shouted Auric. “What if it hadn’t been David? What if it had been another demon? You could have died.”

“Well, I fucking didn’t!” I shouted back, ruining my stance by having to close my eyes as waves of dizziness took control of my body.

The mattress sank under Auric’s weight as he clambered into bed with me and scooped me into his arms.

“I’m sorry baby, but when David carried you in looking like a corpse, it scared me. I love you, woman.”

“I love you, too. Now can we stop yacking and get to the part where we kiss and makeup. I could use some loving to get my magical reserves back up.”

“We need to talk about this.”

“Oh, please, we both know what you’re going to do. You’ll assign me a body guard, probably you, David or Chris, to chaperone me around. Good luck with that.” I didn’t plan to give in easy, no matter how right he might be. My freedom meant a lot to me and I refused to live a life of fear.

“This isn’t over, Muriel,” he said with a strangled moan as I squirmed on his lap and latched my lips to his neck, sucking.

“Says you,” I murmured, turning on his lap so I straddled him.

“No more leaving this house alone,” he ordered even as his hands gripped my ass cheeks and dug in.

“Whatever,” I said finding his lips and starting a sensual fight with my tongue.

My skirt rode up, leaving me astride him with only a skimpy pair of panties. I fumbled with the buttons on his jeans, mewling in frustration against his mouth when I couldn’t free his cock fast enough.

Auric dumped me on the bed and stood up to shuck his pants and shirt, the long length of his cock jutting proudly from his body. I smiled at him and moistened my lips.

With a growl, he divested me of my clothes, not bothering with zippers, just tearing them from my body until I lay there as nude as him.

“Come here,” I crooked my finger at him.

With a smile that made me shudder and flooded my lower regions with wetness, he lay down. I loved looking at his body-thick, male and bulging with muscles.

I straddled him, poising my slick sex over his straining cock. I grabbed my tits and squeezed them for his visual enjoyment and lowered myself onto him, impaling myself on his length. I threw my head back at the feel. Exquisite.

The cowgirl position made him go so deep, and I loved it. I leaned slightly forward and braced my hands on his chest and squirmed on him, the swirling motion making him catch his breath and making me close my eyes in pleasure. The tip of his cock rubbed against my sweet spot inside, and as I gyrated faster, his hands gripped me around the waist to help me. I dug my fingers into his chest, moaning as I rode my wild stallion. I could feel my orgasm building, the muscles in my pelvis tightening around his rigid length. Throwing my head back, I screamed as I came, the waves of bliss making me limp. Auric flipped me onto my back, never pulling out, and as I throbbed around him, he pounded me, hard and fast. He leaned forward and caught one of my nipples with his lips and sucked. Already in the throes of an orgasm, I was hit by another and I screamed again as he came with a bellow of his own.

I’d like to say we spooned afterwards and said I love yous, but quite honestly, exhausted and sexually sated, I passed out.

* * * *

I woke from the nightmare, tears rolling down my cheeks, my chest tight with sobs of anguish.

Auric spooned around me, held me tight and rocked me. “Shh, baby. You’re safe.” Once again, I’d let a nightmare reduce me into a puddle of fear. Angry, and desperate to erase the nightmare, I turned in Auric’s embrace and found the soft skin of his neck and sucked it. The salty taste of his skin brought me back to reality and made me horny.

I nudged my hips against him in invitation, too impatient for foreplay. He nudged my wet cleft with the swollen head of his shaft when I smelt the familiar stench of brimstone.

Auric rolled out of bed, my Hell sword in hand, his naked—still erect—body a thing of beauty as he stood ready to defend me. I, on the other hand, didn’t panic. I knew only one demon who could get through the spells that protected our home.

Satan had arrived in his usual peremptory manner that didn’t involve knocking or warning.

“Hi dad,” I imbued all my annoyance and sexual frustration into those two words.

My father, the king of Hell, stood with his back to us in our living room, a room we could clearly see due to the open nature of the loft apartment we lived in.

“Muriel, Auric, so glad you’re up,” said my father jovially.

“Now there’s an understatement,” said Auric leaning over to whisper in my ear naughtily.

I giggled. His shaft still stood at attention as he sheathed the sword–the real one and not the one between his legs. Apparently it would take a lot more than a visit from my father to dampen his ardor.

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