“Hey, Caspian,” the prince calls out, “keep your eye on that one. She is less wolf and more fire.”
Caspian chuckles and nods. Before we disappear entirely, I sneak a glance over my shoulder only to find the prince still looking at me with that contagious, sexy smile of his. It promises that if I’m his fire, he just might be my downpour. I’d better watch him… closely.
Chapter 7
Lilith Thornblood
The courtyards of the Demon Hunting Trials are beautiful in a way I never expected Hell to be. Instead of being dead and covered in flames, it is full of green and life. Different plants fill every corner and in rows at the side of rocky stone pathways. The buildings are made of old yellow stone with black metal balconies. There are pillars and archways everywhere I look. This place has the feel of a mixture between Greek and French. Everything is covered in red flowered ivy, curling around the statues of the Crescent Mother we pass. The statues make me feel like I’m back at the academy, where they have statues everywhere. We head around the dim corridors, through pathways, and into one of the tallest buildings that is right at the back of the compound. The building stretches into a branch that goes across the roof, letting ivy and vines trail around the building like they are embracing it.
I follow Caspian through the entrance hall, which is empty except for a single green sofa, and into a corridor full of dozens of doors. Caspian never glances at the doors in his long strides, making it clear he knows his way around. When I don’t owe him my life, I’m going to be nosy and find out what happened last year and how he failed the demon-hunting trials. He must have lived here last year. The corridors are painted deep forest green with intricate patterns of small to large trees, no doubt mimicking the tree outside that Hell itself literally revolves around. The green compliments the dark-wood floors and occasional planted flower pot we pass. Every few feet are chandeliers hanging from the ceiling that look like they’re made of pure glass shaped like diamonds. They couldn’t be genuine diamonds… I think. If the demon hunting goes wrong, I’m stealing one or two of the diamonds from those chandeliers just in case.
Each door has a gold-plated number on it, and I notice right away the numbers are all odd. Why are there no even numbers? We go around the corner, far into the sixties and seventies rooms before we come to a stop at the number seventy-seven.
Funny, seven has always been my lucky number since I was five and tricked seven academy teachers into thinking a racoon had raided their snack cupboard with my ace acting skills.
Caspian opens the door with a set of two gold keys and then slips them both in his pocket.
“Can I have my key?” I ask, staring at his back.
He glances back at me as he pushes the door open. “No.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“I don’t remember you having such a rude mouth when you were in Caeli. Don’t they hate swear words or some shit?” he questions. “I remember the academy teachers telling me off and I only got away with it because I wasn’t from there.”
“Swearing is frowned upon in Caeli,” I explain to him. “I never understood it. Fuck is as good a word as any in the dictionary. Actually, I think it’s an amazing word. It can mean so many things and insult so many people.”
He laughs and shakes his head, waving a hand at the door. “Ladies first.”
“Do I get my own room?” I ask and step over the threshold.
He walks past me and turns on the light and I see that he didn’t have to feel the wall for the switch. He knew where it was.
“You do,” he pauses, his gaze flickers down my body and I flush. “Unless you want to share?”
“In your dreams, buddy,” I reply to him, knowing he’s kidding even if parts of my body are fully willing to override my brain and hop on his train. Down, girl.
He bites on his bottom lip and tilts his head, locking his eyes on me. I end up watching the way his bottom lip pops out from between his teeth, wondering what it would feel like if he bit me like that. I shudder and turn around, shutting the door behind us. The thud of Caspian walking away reaches me and force myself to not to glance at him. Instead, I focus on taking in the room, which is definitely designed as some kind of French style or maybe the French design came from Hell. This place is thousands of years old, after all. The walls are high as we walk through the front door. The same chandeliers are in the corridor that goes into a giant living room. The walls are the same dark green but plain, and there are no windows, which is a little disconcerting. It’s still pretty bright in here, thanks to the lights.
There are three light-green, old fabric couches in the middle and they are surrounding a large coffee table that has a massive mark in the centre that kinda appears like a sword cut through it and someone glued it back together. Badly. Caspian looks really out of place as he drops all his weapons on the sofa, clearly claiming it as his own. Instead of watching Caspian take his many, many weapons off one by one, I go through one door right at the back, which leads to a tiny kitchen. It’s a tiny space with dark-wood cabinets and an old yellowed fridge. There is an old microwave shoved into the corner, which seems like it’s a good ten years old. Leaving the kitchen, I open the door next to it and find one of the first bedrooms.
“This is my room,” Caspian states, stepping in front of me and into the bedroom before I stake any claim to it. “Finders keepers, songbird.”
“Stop calling me that!” I shout back as I walk away, and in response, and in response, a door slams. Dammit, I need to come up with a good nickname for him that isn’t just asshole.
Going to the next door, I find it’s a small bathroom, and every bit of it is green, including the toilet and bath. Even the showerhead itself is as green as the three cabinets and green-rimmed mirror. I really hope it doesn’t push out green water.
Whoever designed this place needs to find the other colours of the rainbow.
I head to the next door, the one nearest the door, and I open it to the other bedroom. My new home far away from my actual home. There’s nothing but a single bed lodged in the corner and an old chest of drawers that seems like it’s seen better days. One of the drawers doesn’t have handles by the looks of it. This room has a window, though, and I walk over, looking out of the pure glass that’s got a green board rim around the edge of it. I try to pull the window up for some fresh air, but it’s locked tight, and no matter what I try, it doesn’t budge. Dammit.
Giving up on the window, I sit on the bed, and it lets out a long squeak that sounds like a dying cat. Even with the squeaky bed, broken window, and chest of drawers without handles, I smile. It’s better than being out there, better than being dead, and I’m lucky to have this. To have Caspian trying to keep me alive at all. We both know if the alpha finds us, we are both dead.
I go out to the hallway to try the last door which I find to be an airing cupboard with several shelves. I find a few pieces of green bedding, (because what other colour would it be?), and some pillows. At the bottom is a duvet which I grab to make my bed up before lying back down on it, staring at the ceiling. Almost tempted to close my eyes, there’s a sudden bang at the door. I sit up to see Caspian and he walks past my room and puts a finger against his lips. I spot his other hand has a dagger closely held at his side as he opens the door. Unexpectedly, a girl throws herself into his arms, and he stumbles back, holding her with his arm around her waist so she doesn’t fall.