Wicked Road to Hel (League of Guardians 1)

A tall woman strolled along the opposite sidewalk, bopping her head in time to the beat that fell from the windows above. She was dressed in vintage clothing, Victorian from the looks of it. Her small waist was cinched tightly with a corset, though the boots that peeked from under her long skirt didn’t exactly complement the dress; they looked military and were covered in mud.

The woman paused and her head swiveled around slowly. Ana’s face widened in horror. The eye sockets were empty, the lips blackened and thin. She thought she saw maggots twisting in the corners. The woman turned, opened the door, and passed through.

Ana didn’t hesitate and was there in a second, her fingers clutching the edge of the door, preventing it from shutting. The music was loud, aggressive, and the swell of voices rose sharply.

Ana yanked on the door and entered Club Doom.

Chapter 19

Declan downed a shot of Brimstone Fire and slammed the glass onto the bar. He’d been sitting in the shadows for hours but the frenetic energy that sizzled in the air had finally lured him out.

The music was loud, heavy. He glanced at the stage in wonder. Derrak Dragon had OD’d nearly a decade ago, heroin being the culprit. He’d fronted one of the most memorable punk rock acts in the world.

Now he performed six nights a week in Hell. Un-fucking-believable.

The bartender grunted and Declan indicated another shot was in order. He turned, leaned against the bar, and perused the chaotic scene before him. The place was packed, full of the souls of the damned, demons of all ranks, and a smattering of otherworld beings that for whatever reason had ended up in District One, top surface, Hell.

Hundreds of bodies writhed and moved to the aggressive beat, feeding off the darkness that permeated the air. Several couples were having sex, their bodies rocking together, uncaring of where they were—only interested in the pleasure of the moment.

He downed his second shot and hissed as the fire wove into his gut. A tall, leggy blonde broke from the crowd and walked toward him. She was demon; her eyes burned a vibrant orange as she smiled at him. Her voluptuous body was draped head-to-toe in black leather, though the corset she wore left her breasts bare.

She was hot. In a deranged sort of way.

She sidled up alongside him and ordered a drink from the bartender.

“You’re new.” Her voice was husky, held a slight accent.

Declan nodded. The potion Samael had offered him masked his true signature, and to anyone here he appeared to be just another demon.

“Where you from?” she asked casually.

“District Three.” His answer was abrupt.

She snorted, tossed her drink back, and carefully wiped the excess from around her mouth. “Well, you’re on holiday then.”

District Three was one level above the pit. It was without a doubt the shithole of Hell and had been his home for the six months he’d been held by Lilith.

“I’ve never been,” she said, her thigh touching his as she leaned against the bar. “I’ve heard it’s . . .”

“Hot?”

She laughed and cocked her head. “Among other things.”

Declan smiled. He figured she was from the upper echelon of the demon world, the ruling class. They never ventured below.

It was always Friday night in Hell and she was looking for some fun. Her hand was now on his thigh. Apparently he was on the menu.

Declan shifted slightly, turned to order another drink, and her hand fell away. He was looking for a way into District Three and didn’t want to offend anyone. For all he knew, she could be his ticket back to Lilith.

She leaned over the bar, her breasts inches from him, and licked her lips. “Have your drink and let’s dance.” Her hips moved in a sensuous motion, slowly gyrating as she smiled at him.

The bartender shoved a glass his way and Declan grabbed it, welcoming the coldness of the brew it held. He took a sip and stilled as a familiar scent wafted in the air, teasing his nostrils.

There was no way . . .

Slowly he turned, ignoring the blonde beside him. The band was cresting a wave of hard-ass melody and the crowd was jumping, writhing to the madness. His gaze swept the entire room and didn’t stop until he spied her.

Son of a fucking bitch.