“I see no need for my presence for you to do just that. You’ve lived an eternity as a fully functioning person without me to supervise you. I assume you are capable of managing this task on your own,” I snapped, shoving another drawer closed when I found it filled with only men’s clothes. They ranged in size, making it clear that this room didn’t belong to any one person. There were clothes thatalmostlooked like they would have fit me if not for being too long, and I knew for a fact that Beelzebub would never get his legs inthose.
He moved to the dresser, grabbing a pair of the larger black pants from one of the drawers. He tossed them onto the bed, leaving them there and making his way to the closet at the side of the room. The pants on the bed reminded me almost of sweatpants, but the fabric more closely resembled leather by the looks of it.
“I am capable of communicating with Lucifer without you, but I will not be leaving you behind, songbird,” he said, tugging open the closet door. “I already explained that I need to keep you safe. There is no one in Purgatory that I would trust to look after you while I am gone.”
More feminine clothes hung in the closet, smaller in size with the shape that would fit my body more appropriately and not strain at my curves in the way a man’s straight clothing would. I moved to the closet and shuffled through the hanging garments, looking for something that would offer me more coverage.
I gravitated toward one of the few red items, the color calling to me like a symbol of home. The red pants looked to be crafted from the same material as the ones Beelzebub had set out for himself, and I ran my fingers over the surface. I’d been both right and wrong to describe the fabric as being close to leather. The surface was smooth and cool to the touch, but there was a give that leather would never be able to achieve, a stretch to the material that I hadn’t expected and reminded me of leggings.
“There’s absolutely no one that you could leave me with who would keep me safe? No one who is loyal to Lucifer? I find that very hard to believe,” I argued with a scoff. I couldn’t keep moving through Hell, not when the Second Circle waited for me. I couldn’t continue to remain at Beelzebub’s side, not when his tirade this morning had penetrated the numbness around my heart.
I needed that fear of him to remain in place, because that was what kept me safe. My awareness of the intentions of the people around me hadn’t failed me yet, and believing him when he said he wouldn’t hurt me was more dangerous to me than anything else.
“Loyalty is fickle. Lucifer hasn’t been here in centuries, songbird. It is difficult to remain loyal to someone who abandoned you, and many are just as likely to hurt you out of spite because of what you are. Hell is no place for a living and breathing witch. There’s only one demon I would trust with you, but he isn’t powerful enough to protect you if others were to find out you’re here. We cannot simply wait for Willow to open the gateway, either. You saw what the demons and souls were like there. It’s too dangerous. I don’t have another choice but to bring you with me, as much as we would both like to avoid that,” he said, dismissing any suggestions I might have made.
“How is me dying any worse than getting trapped in the Second Circle?” I asked, hating this with every fiber of my being. No matter what choice I made, I was never going to leave this place.
“I’m not going to let you get trapped in Lust, but you’re going to have to trust me a little. We’ll get you through, and I’ll do whatever I must to make that happen,” he said, that gentle look in his eyes communicating exactly why this was a terrible idea.
Trust.
“I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I’m capable of trusting someone like that,” I said, hanging my head forward. I reached out and grabbed the matching shirt, tearing it off the hanger and tossing it to the bed to wait for the opportunity to change.
He sighed, moving to the bed and gathering the pants he’d set aside. He tucked them under his arm, and for a moment I thought he might change then and there, but he didn’t and moved toward the door to the hallway outside.
“You have a choice to make. There is no way for me to travel through the Nine Circles fast enough to guarantee your safety if I leave you here. It will take half a second for a demon to decide to make a meal out of you, though admittedly, decidedly longer for them to actually ingest your corpse. That is the fate that will befall you if you choose to remain here rather than trusting me to give you achanceat survival. Yes, you will have to be weighed by each circle. It isn’t often that living bodies arrive in Hell. Most of its inhabitants are mere souls who are condemned to this place, but a living being cannot step foot upon Raum’s scales and be assigned to a circle. You’ll have to pay your respects to the lords who would otherwise see you in chains,” he explained, listing out my options, if you could call them that.
Neither was a picnic.
“You make it sound like such a lovely vacation. Is it any wonder I don’t want to go?” I asked, scoffing as he kept his face carefully blank.
“Let me finish,” he said, the stern note to his voice making me pause.
“If there were a way around it, I would not subject you to the torments of Hell. But if I do not bring you through the circles, the lords will feel your presence here regardless, if they haven’t already. Some even fell through the gateway with you and know you’re here, and it is only a matter of time before they all make the journey and come to judge you at once. You can either face each of the sins one-on-one or be buried in the onslaught of them all without me here to help you through it. I would not leave you to face that alone, songbird,” he said, and even I had to admit, facing all the sins at once felt like something that would tear me in two.
What would that even look like?
“So either you come with me, or we both wait for the lords to come before we even begin our journey. One will save time and be more likely to result in your freedom, but the choice is yours in the end. I won’t make it for you when it is your life to live,” he added, making my breath stall in my lungs.
The choice was mine.
It may have only been the ability to choose how I died, but it was mine to make regardless.
“Beel—” I started to say his name, cutting off when I realized what I’d nearly done.
His mouth parted, as if he might say something but decided better of it. “I’ll give you some time to get changed and think about your options. I’ll be close enough to keep you safe, but lock and barricade the door after I leave,” he said with a smirk, shoving the dresser to the side with a single hand so he could open the door wide enough to pass through.
Then he was gone, and I closed the door and did what I could to make the room safe.
Like he’d needed to tell me to.
I finally bent down, unknotting the laces of my shoes and toeing them off my feet. It didn’t seem as though he planned to returntoo quickly, but I didn’t dare risk nudity for any longer than necessary. I shoved my foot into a pant leg forcefully, determined to change quickly. My other leg followed, and I shimmied the pants up my legs. They tucked up beneath my skirt, which I only raised when I was confident the pants were in place and covered the tops of my thighs and the lacy underwear that barely covered the most intimate part of me. Reaching behind me, I unzipped the back of my uniformed skirt and let it fall to my feet, kicking it to the side. I tore the coordinating top off the hanger, the black of it nearly translucent in places.
I tugged it over my head over the camisole that had been part of my uniform, letting it settle into place. Only when the wide bandeau part of the shirt settled over my breasts, the underwire within keeping them in place, did I work the straps of the camisole down my arms and pull the garment down over my hips to discard it as well. The translucent part covered my chest up to the neck but for a plunge at the center that revealed the smallest line of cleavage, a crisscross of straps working over my collarbone and shoulders.
The top was short, just barely brushing the top of the pants but leaving me covered enough to feel comfortable. I felt better with more fabric to cover my body, looking toward the door where Beelzebub had left me to change in privacy in an almost gentlemanly fashion.
What he didn’t understand was that I’d seen what a gentleman did in the dead of night, that I knew good manners often hid the cruelest of beasts, and I greatly preferred the honesty the demon offered. He may not have been a good man, but he had never claimed to be. He never claimed that his demented actions would be for the greater good, never hid behind that excuse in an attempt to seek absolution from his victims.
