Vacation Hell: Princess of Hell #4 (6 page)

My magic swelled. My heart did, too. And happier than the damned cat who’d eaten the canary, I collapsed in a happy heap of naked limbs and sweaty skin.

T
he tickle
of moonlight on bare skin woke me, but it was only as I stretched to fully enjoy its cold, silvery embrace that I realized a few crucial things.

One, there was no moonlight in Hell. Ever. The pit resided in some strange pocket universe without the constellations of the mortal world.

Crucial point number two. My body didn’t lounge on a bed with soft-as-sin sheets and a memory foam mattress. Fuck, I wasn’t even in the villa anymore.

And the third important point, which truly made me simmer, there was bloody sand in my unmentionables, probably because I was lying on the beach at the bottom of the bluffs wearing just a T-shirt that I’d flung on before wandering to the bathroom for some middle of the night business. No panties, though. I’d had too many of them torn off for urgent morning sex—by me—to waste a pair.

Last, but not least, not only did I find myself not in bed, on a beach with no idea how I’d gotten there, there were also no consorts watching over me. That never happened. And I certainly never expected it on this trip, not given their plan to dangle me as bait.

Given all these items, was it any wonder I felt a touch perturbed? My hand also itched for a certain Hell blade, left lying in the bedroom, leaning against the nightstand. Auric had brought my blade along for me. Apparently he didn’t trust me with it when they dragged me here. As if I would maim them. I liked their body parts too much to lop any off.

From now on, I’m sleeping with a dagger strapped to my thigh.

Despite my weaponless state, I remained far from helpless. I still could rely on my impressive fighting skills as well as my magic, both of which I would wield better if I wasn’t taken unaware. That meant no more using the beach as a bed. I scrambled to my feet, my toes squishing in the damp sand. The tide had washed out, and before anyone asked, no one knew how the tides worked on this plane without a moon. It was one of those things we just took for granted, like the creamy filling in those yummy eggs at Easter. I didn’t understand how that worked either, but that didn’t prevent me from eating one. Okay, I ate two. Argh. Fine. I admit it. I liked to buy a box and devour them while watching corny chick flicks.

Don’t judge. My dad knows about all your naughty habits. Your file is pretty thick, which is probably why we’ll get along when you come join us in the pit.

But we could worry about your eventual relocation later. Right now, we needed to worry about me. Given my previous problem when we arrived, I did have some concern that I might start marching off to sea again. I glanced about for something to grab hold of before my feet mutinied. Alas, nothing appeared for me to anchor myself, and I might have worried except, for the moment, my body seemed to be listening to me and not dancing to its own tune. Awesome.

Less awesome was the fact that I’d found myself on the beach in the first place. How had that happened? Had I walked? Been carried? Did I dream?

Last I recalled, my boys and I had made it to a bed, a bed that could have used a few more feet of mattress. But we’d made do. Things got pretty hot and steamy. The aftereffects still filled my magical reservoir. I fairly burst with power, which made me cocky and, in turn, totally erased any fear a normal person might have felt.

If any nasty sea monsters try and take me, I’ll pulverize them into chunks of sushi.

Confidence was my best friend and fear not an emotion I liked to entertain. The situation might appear creepy, but I found myself intrigued. The shaft of light, a brilliance not projected by any moon but shining directly from the umber-hued night sky, didn’t worry me. I saw it for what it was. A cheap parlor trick meant to enhance the shape emerging from the waters.

A curious cat, like David, might have succumbed to staring. Auric would have indulged in direct confrontation. Teivel enjoyed hanging back and then swooping for maximum effect. Show off. Could you tell I envied his style?

Paying it attention would have given it too much credit. I opted for feigned disinterest. My gaze went to my skin, my poor abused skin covered in a patina of sand. Gross. I proceeded to slap myself—while mentally humming a certain Britney Spears song—free of the icky, clinging sand. Such nasty, gritty stuff. I took my sweet time about it.

Nonchalance at its finest. Given I wasn’t going to give the approaching intruder the attention he craved, I guess I could spend a moment explaining parts of my method. Because while half of me thought it was a great idea, the other half of me, the part in touch with my humanity and sense of self-preservation, screamed I was an idiot.

Maybe I was. A more concerned person, at the imminent approach of an unknown in an extreme situation, might have run and called for help.

I think we’d all seen how that movie ended. The girl died, usually in some horrible, slimy way. Like fuck. And no thank you. A coward ran, and there was nothing yellow about my belly. But I really needed to work on my tan.

Another reason to not scream for help was that it might bring my boys. They were adorably protective of me, but that also worked in reverse. What if the approaching enemy—enemy, yes, because in my world that was how it worked—hurt my dear lovers?
Hurt them and I will kill you.

Harm my child?
And I will rip your guts from your body and feed them to you before staking you to feed the carrion birds.

What if it was after me?

I should be so lucky. A girl did so enjoy a chance to practice her skills. I’d perfected the bitch slap and had started a video collection of the expressions on assassins’ faces when I delivered it. It had been days since I’d added a new image.

So many reasons to stay and fight instead of seeking out allies. Until I better understood what we faced, I would investigate it alone—and reap the benefits of punishment later.

Bad girls did sometimes win.

Even with my partial attention, I noted a few key points about the approaching sea invader. One, he definitely was coming for me. Two, he was human-appearing so far, with two legs and arms, a head, a torso, and because he was also naked, I couldn’t help but note he was hung like a seahorse. Or was that a whale? I never could get my aquatic creatures straight, even though I’d hung out with a kid who knew everything.

When young, my playmate Adexios, Charon’s son, used to mock my lack of knowledge. So I knocked out his front teeth then hid because I was terrified his mom would kill me. Can you say mama’s boy? But his mom didn’t kill me and dismember my body. Apparently, I saved them a bundle in dental fees, and Adexios, that jerk, got a tidy bundle from the tooth fairy. So unfair.

When I lost baby teeth, my father had them ground, put in some kind of magical milkshake, and I had to chug it while hopping on one foot counterclockwise. Something about making sure I didn’t leave anything behind for my enemies to use against me. Although the videos Daddy took as I wobbled, feeling like a moron, made me wonder if he wasn’t pulling one of his practical jokes. One never knew with the devil.

It seemed a little too stubborn, even for me, to pretend I didn’t watch the water dude’s approach, given he was close enough that the very air around me vibrated.

Power. Coming from him.
My insidious inner self, linked tightly with my magic, purred the thought. Urged me to move closer and touch. Take.

Yummy. We should make him ours.

Bad thought. Where did it come from? Why was it proving so insistent? Just what was so freaking great about this guy? I had to see. Therefore, I pivoted and faced him full-on, hands on my hips, head angled at its most disdainful princess angle. It was a great look, practiced many hours in front of a mirror. It should have evoked some kind of response. My favorite was the trembling, sometimes accompanied by puddles at their feet. The knee drop where they blubbered for my forgiveness. Yet this guy didn’t act as expected. Instead, he retaliated in the worst way possible at my most evil stare.

He dared to grin back and look drop-dead sexy doing it. The world under my feet tilted. I would swear something shifted. And this man, creature, hunk of sex on two legs, was the cause.

Uh-oh.

A red glow entered my eyes as I ensured my irritation—and, yes, a little bit of panic—lit them with the flames I’d inherited from my father.

The sea dude didn’t slow his step—his long-legged, fluidly graceful step.

Gulp.

Look away. Look away.
I needed to resist.

What a joke. I was a bad girl for a reason. I wanted to look and ogle and admire. Once I’d made that decision, I subjected him to the once-over. My gaze started at his feet—
my what big feet you have—
rose to check out corded calves—the better to brace yourself—thick, muscled thighs—that could probably piston for hours—skipped past a certain proud mast—
so in the mood for a Popsicle right now—
to a flat belly with—

“You have no belly button?” For some reason that struck me as oddly freakish, and I giggled.

That got a reaction. My deadliest glare had done nothing, but my mirth at his condition did cause the water dude to slow his step, and as I chuckled louder, he stopped.

“Are you laughing at me?” His voice proved as sexy as the rest of him. The hole being dug beneath my feet got deeper.

I needed to not topple in. Disengage and move away. That didn’t happen. Now, when I needed my feet to move me away from this strangely alluring fellow, they remained stuck to the ground as if weighted by cement blocks. I well remembered the feeling, the time my dad got me back for shoving rocks in his favorite loafers—trimmed in rhinestones—and turning them into a coral reef for his tropical, rainbow-colored piranhas. Only tanks of the purest diamond glass could hold those vicious critters. My dad’s shoes were gone in seconds. As punishment, Dad sank me in the hot springs in the lava rock garden, but on the upside, I found my missing earring.

The blast from my past was nice, but I recognized it as an attempt to avoid my attraction to the hot guy with no belly button. “Yes, I was laughing at you. Still am,” I added with a smirk. “But isn’t that better than pitying you? I mean, look at you, you’re missing a hole. It’s so weird.”

A good thing, too, that he possessed some kind of flaw because the rest of him was pure-platinum perfection. Once I got past his bodily sexiness—with difficulty—I noted his square, clean-shaven jaw, his aquiline nose, sharp cheekbones, full sensual lips, and long, really fucking long, platinum hair.

His chin angled at an imperial tilt I knew well as he replied, “I am not missing anything. Only mammals have umbilical cords.”

“So what are you, a fish?” He didn’t look like one. No tail, fins, gills, or scales.

“I am Poseidon’s son.”

Poseidon, also known as Neptune or the god of the sea. I knew him well since he was my daddy’s drinking and wenching buddy. But I’d never met his son. “Neptune’s boy, eh? With who? Doesn’t matter, I guess, you’re still a fish.”

He frowned, but still managed to look utterly delicious. I almost made the sign of an inverted cross.

“I am not a fish but a merman.”

A snicker that was part snort left me. “A merman? Do I look that fucking stupid? You can’t be a merman because they don’t exist.”

“I beg to differ since we do. I take it you’ve heard of mermaids.”

Did the roll of my eyes properly convey my ‘Duh’? I restrained an urge to slap him—then kiss him better. “I know all about mermaids, enough to know there are no male ones.” No one quite understood the whole biology thing with them, but I did know that they came in the feminine version only. The few male progeny they birthed were vicious sea monsters without any kind of human characteristics.

“Mostly true except for the fact that I exist, but I will admit I’m rare.”

“Understatement by the guy with no belly button.” But really nice abs. The unblemished skin truly wanted stroking. I held my hands clasped, lest they wander off to play. “I’m surprised you don’t get that fixed.”

His brows drew into a sharp V. “Would you stop it already with the belly button thing. You do not see me mocking you.”

“What’s there to mock?” I swept my hands in a show of my body that I knew he liked because a certain part of him bobbed for attention. I ignored it in punishment—to myself. “I am flawless, as you can see. Awesome. Brave. Cunning. And I could go on. There’s a whole alphabet created to describe me.”

“Is L longwinded because this conversation seems to have no end. I have better things to do than wait for you to get to the point.”

Something better than verbally sparring with me? Talk about insulting. “I’m not sure what point you want me to make other than keep your weird sea shit to yourself. No more of those dreams you’ve been sending. Or the marching feet. Or the sex stuff.”

“Sex stuff? Feet? Dreams?” His brows arched. “What insanity are you spouting? Have you smoked some kelp?”

“Don’t play innocent.” I wagged my finger at him. “I know all about the stuff you’ve been doing to get me here on this beach. And I am telling you to stop.”

“I did nothing to get you here. You were the one who called me. I heard your message in the waves and curiosity made me come to see what it was about.”

“I called you?” I shook my head. “No. You started this, and I want to know why you’ve been invading my dreams and making me crave the ocean. It’s really not nice, especially considering I can’t stand seafood.” Although, given he did appear quite appetizing, I might make an exception in his case.

I didn’t need my father cringing in disgust to know the guy spoke the truth when he said, “I assure you, it was not I invading your dreams, but you were commandeering mine. And I demand that you stop.”

“No, you stop.”

“No, you.”

“You.”

“You.”

It might have gone on for a while if, with every yell, we hadn’t taken a step closer and closer and closer until the last word was swallowed in a kiss.

Oh dear.

Oh yes.

His soft lips slanted over mine, and my awareness blossomed, a new part of me awakening and unfolding much like the petals on a flower kissed by morning sun. My senses opened and drew in a wondrous new essence, one with the crisp, cool of water, the salty tang of the sea, and a wildness of crashing waves.