Demonic and Deserted (Eternally Yours Book 4) (16 page)

I fell onto the seat, cursing hell’s cuisine, yet grateful sub-level thirteen had flushable toilets.  I shouldn’t have looked at the stuff swimming in the bowl, but curiosity got the best of me. Those crawly things had survived my stomach acid and were still crawling! Ugh.

Why did I eat that crap? Why?! But that wasn’t the worst of it. My explosive wormy diarrhea had left a nuclear red ring of fire around my butthole. Too upset to sleep, I paced the Egyptian rug that circled the sofa, and by paced, I meant I dragged my butt around the carpet, groaning at the welcome relief of worn carpet fibers scratching my itchy anus. Sure, I realized scratching made it worse, but I just couldn’t help myself. 

“Ash! What the hell?”

I paused, looking up at Santiago, who was sitting up in bed, scowling down at me as if I’d just taken a dump on the carpet. “It itches,” I growled. “I’m not about to lick it. I have to scratch it somehow.” I returned his scowl before dragging my butt again. Ahhhh. It felt so good. 

Santiago fell back against the pillows, draping an arm across his head. “Damn, that’s nasty.”

“Fuck you, Santiago!” Who was he to judge my itchy anus? A dog had a right to scratch. 

I let out a low groan as I changed course, dragging my anus in the opposite direction. That’s when I noticed the brown ring marring the carpet’s delicate floral pattern. Wait a minute? Was that my brown ring of shame? Ewww. Whimpering, I crawled to the tub and sank up to my neck. The warm water was soothing, and I didn’t need to leave a brown trail to itch my butt. A tingling between my thighs reminding me I was soaking in horny water. Just as my libido kicked in, my stomach twisted and buckled again. Damn! Talk about bad timing. When would the torture end? I crawled out of the tub, drying off my fur before hurrying toward the bathroom.

Note to self: Don’t eat the food in hell, because hell’s cuisine did far more damage to my colon than a plate-full of gluten-filled brownies. I shouldn’t have drank the toilet water, either, but I was damn thirsty. It’s not like I drank dirty toilet water. I’d flushed the bowl a few times first. But maybe, just maybe, the toilet water disagreed with me, because after the second bowlful, my stomach had swollen like a balloon. And, of course, I was even more horny. I thought about alternating between moaning on the toilet and humping the stuffing out of the sofa pillows, but even my sex-drive had its limits.

Being a dog sucked. I missed the old Ash. I was pretty sure the old Ash would have turned down the squirmy maggot dinner and toilet water. Somehow, I got the feeling tonight was going to be a long night.

Aedan O’Connor

“C
allum?”

My eyes slowly opened at the sound of her lilting voice. I was transfixed for a moment by her halo of red hair that shone like fire beside the flickering candle light. I recognized her. She was Melanie, the priestess, and the primary reason the Sergeant refused to leave the pyramid.

Though her skin shone like porcelain and her amber eyes like twin gems, she wasn’t my type. I liked girls with dark hair and green eyes. Girls like Ash. I grimaced when I recalled that my Ash didn’t look like herself anymore, though I knew the same girl I fell in love with was still inside that dog’s body.

“Callum, is that you?” Melanie repeated.

I ran my swollen tongue over the roof of my mouth before trying to wet parched lips, though it did little good. “No,” I rasped. “Aedan.”

“What happened to you?” Her eyes widened as she ran a hand over my brow.

My eyelids fluttered shut. Her smooth, cool hand felt soothing, a stark contrast to the rest of my body which throbbed from breaks and bruises. “I was attacked by a Taurus.”

She leaned into me, her soft breath on my skin a balm to my soul. “What can I do to help you?”

My eyes shot open when Callum’s tortured eyes burned holes into my conscience. “Have you seen my brother?”

“No.” She leaned back with a frown. “They separated him from the girls. Do not fret. I’m sure he’s in a cell like I was.”

Something in her tone wasn’t reassuring. “Did they torture you?”

She averted her gaze. “No.”

I tried to lean on my elbows, wincing at the pain that shot through my ribs. “You’re lying.”

“There was no torture,” she said on a sigh, “but there were big rats.”

Rats? That didn’t seem so bad. My brother had suffered much worse on sub-level one. “Callum can handle rats.”

She twisted her fingers in her lap, her brow furrowing with concern. “I saw someone in the dungeon when they were bringing me to you.”

“Who?” I asked as I managed to pull myself to a sitting position. Then I took a deep breath while rubbing a hand over my ribcage. It hurt, but the pain wasn’t unbearable. My ribs were probably bruised, but surprisingly not broken. After all, I’d been body slammed by a half ton bull. 

Her gaze flitted from mine to her hands folded in her lap. “Mother,” she said on a whisper as a lone tear slid down her cheek.

Why did I get the feeling this girl still cared about the false deity who’d brainwashed her and the other priestesses. I supposed it was hard for her to stop caring for the spider, especially since the beast had saved the priestesses from a world of torture. “So you saw the giant spider?”

She nodded. “And she’s still in spider form, though none of us took on demon form.”

That was strange. How was she still in demon form and what had the Devil intended for her?

“Why would she be in the dungeon?” I asked.

Melanie’s pale skin took on a greyish pallor. “It looked as if they were harvesting her demonlings.”

Harvesting? As in breeding the creature to create eight-legged demon babies? “That explains why we were chased off the elevator by spiders.”

“So were we.” Melanie covered her face with her hands, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she silently cried. Finally, she looked at me through tear-soaked eyes. “She begged me to help her, and I did nothing.”

As sorry as I felt for the girl, I felt not one ounce of pity for the spider mother who’d tried to feed my loved ones and me to a soul eating dragon. “As long as Satan controls her, he controls all thirteen levels of hell. Those demonlings are obeying his commands.”

She leaned over me, grasping my hand. “What do we do?”

“The only thing we can do,” I said as dread settled in my heart. Releasing one evil demon to stop another didn’t sound like such a hot idea. I gripped Melanie by the shoulders. Looking deeply into her luminous eyes. “We have to help Mother escape.”

Of course, there was one more option—obliteration. The Grim Union enforced strict rules about obliteration as a last resort. Once a soul was obliterated, it couldn’t be undone. During the more than hundred years I’d worked as a Grim, I’d never obliterated anyone. Unnecessary use of obliteration could result in a Grim losing his license, all of his credits, or worse, being condemned to an eternity of hell.

* * *

Ash MacLeod

M
orning couldn’t have come fast enough. When the Nazi monkey unlocked our door, I was so relieved to be let out, I fought the urge to lick him. Then I remembered that beast deserved none of my affection. I growled for him to back up while clutching the hilt of the poker I’d tucked under my belt.

The monkey shrieked and gave me wide berth, his eyes nervously darting from the hilt of my weapon to the guard. I figured he was looking for backup, but the guard seemed more interested in crying over a crack in his hoof while he tried in vain to press his hoof back together. I wondered what the Devil did with lame man-bulls. Did he send them to hell’s glue factory, or was he nice enough to release them to sub-level thirteen? The beast looked so pitiful as he rocked back and forth while babying his hoof, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. He didn’t earn his way to the bottom of hell by racking up the most airline reward points. 

I rushed into the hallway, relief flooding me when I saw Aedan. Sure, he looked like shit with two puffy eyes and a bruised and bandaged face, but he was standing, which meant he probably didn’t have internal injuries. My gaze tunneled on Aedan as I bound up to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and licking him senseless.

He made a face and pushed me back. “Easy, Ash.”

I frowned as I let him go, a wave of shame washing over me.

Oh, yeah. Dog breath.

“Are you hurting?” I smoothed my hands down his arms, careful not to press too hard. “I thought your ribs were broken.”

“Not broken.” He grimaced as he lifted his shirt, revealing a black and blue ribcage. “Just bruised.”

Though I was relieved he didn’t have serious injuries, I couldn’t help the jealousy which had plagued me all night. Someone had bandaged him. The thought of another woman in my fiancé’s room made the fur raise up on the back of my neck. And then it hit me. A sweet peachy smell. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? Her scent was all over him. I let out a menacing growl. “Who treated you? Was it one of those siren sluts?” Heat filled my skull at the thought of those women’s scaly hands on my fiancé. 

He reddened. “No, they sent Melanie to treat me.”

“Melanie?” Sarge was upon us in a few long strides. “Is she here?” he asked a little too eagerly. Actually, desperately was more the word that came to mind. And that’s when I realized just how love-struck Sarge was.

Aedan nodded to the closed door behind him. “Thelix is dressing her.”

“She slept in your room?” Sarge and I asked in unison.

Aedan gave us each quizzical looks. “Yes. On the sofa.”

Sarge and I shared looks of concern. I didn’t need my canine instincts to know what he was thinking, because I was right there with him. I remembered Melanie from before. Though she was always in one of those heavy robes the priestesses wore, I could still tell she was a beauty underneath all that wool. She had lots of red hair and creamy skin, plus the robe did little to conceal that she had been endowed with big breasts. Yeah, I really didn’t like the idea of her sharing a room with my fiancé. 

I cocked a furry hand on my hip, jutting out my six nipples with as much diva attitude as a furry, black, slobber-bucket could muster. “So what did she do to treat your wounds?”

“Just cleaned my cuts and bandaged them.” He held out his hands in a defensive gesture. “Any other questions?”

I could tell by his tone he was hurt. Why, I had no idea. He slept with a beautiful redhead. I slept with fleas.

I shrugged, averting his intense gaze. “No.”

“And what did you two do last night?”

I jerked my head up at his accusatory tone, but the humor in his eyes told me he knew we didn’t do a damn thing. Probably because he realized Sarge was repulsed by my dog breath and furry anus. Asshole. He could have at least pretended to be jealous.

Aedan winced when I growled my response.

“Ash cleaned her ass on the carpet,” Sarge answered.

I jabbed Santiago in the stomach with my elbow, tempted to pull the poker out of my belt and burn a hole through his ass. “Shut up.” 

He howled, buckling over while clutching his gut. “Damn, you’re strong.”

“Look at me, Aedan.” I thumped my chest while flashing my fangs. “The only thing I’ll be humping are the pillows, and you know it.”

Sarge backed up while holding out his hands. “Just not mine, okay?”

I turned on him with a growl, tempted to kick him in the nuts.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about us,” Aedan said defensively. “I’m not a cheat.”

I snapped my head back at him. Oh, really? So that bathtub hand job with the siren didn’t count? Maybe in his alternate cheater universe. I held up a furry finger. “Except for that one time.”

Aedan’s face turned almost as red as blood wine. “I was tricked and so were you. I can’t believe you’d bring that up!” he hollered.

“Enough!” Sarge stepped between us, holding out his hands. “We need to focus on a way out. This fighting isn’t helping us.”

The door opened, and who should come out but little miss redhead herself, looking absolutely drop dead gorgeous with a lot of makeup and a short skirt. But that’s not where my gaze was drawn. I couldn’t stop looking at her huge melons accessorized with nipple tassels. And I thought I had big tits. Hers were so big, they could have been fake, but I knew they weren’t. They had just the right amount of sag. Besides, they matched her curvy hips. And damn her, her waist was small and flat. When the smell of her peach perfume hit me, I swear I was seeing red. I didn’t care if she and Sarge were a ticket. I wasn’t about to let that bitch book passage on the Aedan express, too.

After Sarge rushed to her side, my cheater sonar instantly honed in on Aedan, and lo and behold, his jaw hung so low, he was in danger of tripping over his lip. What the hell? 

“Close your mouth,” I said with a sneer, “before I shut it for you.”

He jerked back and looked at me as if he’d been caught elbow deep in the cookie jar, and not the store bought cardboard crap, but a dozen home-baked double chocolate chip with walnuts. “W-what?”

“You heard me,” I growled.

“I was just shocked.” He scratched the back of his head, averting his gaze. “I didn’t know she looked like that.”

I narrowed my gaze, imagining my eyes were twin lasers, and I was burning a hole through his libido. “You mean you didn’t know she had huge tits?”

“Your breasts are the only ones I care about, Ash.” He made eye contact with me for the briefest of seconds before looking away. “You know that.”

I closed the distance between us, glaring up at him. Dog breath be damned. That was the least of his problems. I protruded my nipples. “All six of them?” I asked, and then hated myself for challenging my fiancé to love a smelly mutt.

He grabbed my shoulders, dipping his head until he found my gaze. “You’re not going to be a dog forever. Once we get out of here, you’ll change back.”

“You sure about that?” My lip quivered as I looked up at him. What if he was wrong? What if God left us down here, and I was a Fido forever? Aedan would never want to kiss or make love to me. How could he stay faithful to a dog?

He pulled me in his embrace, wrapping his arms around me, making me self-conscious about my back fur. How could he touch me without wanting to throw up?