Hell in Heels Read online

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  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  All rights reserved. This E-book is licensed only for your personal enjoyment. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the author. The only exception is brief quotations in printed or online reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Please visit adriannamorgan.com for more on the Hell Bent and Bound Series!

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my family. Thank you.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 – Give ‘em Hell

  Chapter 2 – A Demon, a Dog and a Priest

  Chapter 3 – No Rest for the Wicked

  Chapter 4 – Santeria and Sangrias

  Chapter 5 – A Sage Mage

  Chapter 6 – Double Trouble

  Chapter 7 – Devil Went Down to…Miami?

  Chapter 8 – Hell in a Handbasket

  Chapter 9 – Return of the Beast

  Chapter 10 – Hell Hath No Fury

  Prologue

  Sometimes I really hated the devil. I sat on the bed with my legs crossed delicately and waited for the morons holding me captive to bring me something to eat. The room itself was not bad; besides the bed, it also held a bucket I assumed was for me to handle personal business, although I didn’t think I would use it. No mirror, no vanity. But then again I was being held prisoner. So I guess that meant no amenities.

  There was a single window in the basement or backroom or…wherever I was and I could hear the sounds of the Miami nightlife. Cars sped by and I wondered briefly if we were close to a freeway. Although, to be honest, it did not matter. Thankfully, I was alone for the moment. It would have been easy to break out of here if I had my powers, but these bastards had given me alcohol, lots of it. And right now, I could barely think straight, much less break out. The most I could probably do was send a small spell or two for help. And wait. And hope that my father answered.

  I sighed and wrapped my arms around my shivering body. These assholes were trying to make me as uncomfortable as they possibly could and right now that meant turning the air conditioner to full blast and freezing my ass off. I could see my breath in the air and I shivered again. What kind of idiots would keep a woman locked up without any food or even water? I wasn’t really hungry, but I figured eating would give me something to do until I was rescued or until my father burned them to a crisp. Or at least until he convinced them to let me go.

  Here I was, normally so independent, now relying on my father to help me. I closed my eyes and chanted a simple spell, hoping that my captives did not ward the room. I watched, dismayed, when my spell bounced back. I remembered the days when wards weren’t so well known. Now you can find almost anything on the internet. Trust me. I checked.

  There were some wards that were well known, but I knew spells that could get around those and do what I needed them to do. But right now, I could feel the electrically charged energy around me that let me know someone knew something about warding, but perhaps not enough. I muttered another spell, a more complicated one using the old language and watched it find a crack and slip through in a sizzle of red energy. Now all I had to do was sit back and wait. Daddy would be along shortly, even if I did run away from home.

  For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Helena. Helena Black. And no, you cannot call me Hel. Trust me, I know Hel and that girl needs a serious makeover. I mean drab black hair? In this century? She could definitely do better. But she is Hel, so I guess she should look like it. No pun intended. Actually, yeah, it was intended.

  Back to me. If you haven’t figured it out yet, my father’s the devil. No, really. The actual devil. Lucifer. Satan. Son of Perdition. Yadda, yadda. To me, he is just dad. Of course when he’s on earth he doesn’t go by ‘the devil’; his name is Lucas Black which can lead some to confuse him with Death. But if you saw his flaming red hair and the black eyes, you would know that Death was not staring you in the face. It was something much worse. Besides, everyone knew Death is a woman.

  He’s not as bad as you would think, but he’s like every other father, constantly in my hair. He wants to know where I’m going when I leave home and who I’m dating. The last time I told him about the demon I was in love with, I think he had the poor soul thrown into the pits at Tartarus. Needless to say, I didn’t get any more dates for a long time after that.

  I know what you’re thinking. The book never mentions a daughter. I mean really. Who wrote that book? Yeah, exactly. Do you really believe they would make Satan seem like a nice guy? It’s okay though. He’s still my father. I wonder if they really knew what he was like or if they just listened to rumors. Tales from angels who were too young to even know him.

  And people change, you know, well…demons can change too. He got older, realized that maybe, just maybe, trying to start a rebellion to overthrow your maker wasn’t the best idea. I really think the other guy understood. He could have destroyed my father but instead give him job basically running the mailroom.

  He really has a job. And it’s not all fun and games. Yeah, he has to lead souls into temptation, but like every job, it gets tiring sometimes. Unfortunately, he can’t quit. He’s kinda stuck. We all are. And when I say ‘we’ I mean the rest of the Black family.

  Let me enlighten you a bit about my family. My mother is Lilith. I won’t be surprised if you’ve never heard of her, but she would be pissed. She likes to remind everyone that she was Adam’s first wife and even after she was removed from the Garden, she never officially got a divorce. So, Adam had committed polygamy. I roll my eyes every time she tells this story.

  Her version is that Adam wanted some other chick because he wanted her to cook and clean and bear children. And if you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting my mother, you would know instantly that cook and clean was not a part of her repertoire. After the fall, she was the first human sent to Hell and I guess she and my father just hit it off. She does a damn good job though of being the devil’s wife. She acts like the wife of a politician and is just as underhanded. But I love her. Even if she is a heartless scheming bitch.

  My brother managed to escape this lovely life by convincing dad to have recruiting trips. So fucking smart. Dad sends him all over the world to recruit. It’s harder than you think to get new arrivals. In order to go to Hell, you’ve got to believe in Hell. If you don’t believe, you don’t go. And different religions have different versions of Hell and Heaven and they go there. So, every couple of years to keep up our numbers, my brother pretends to be a televangelist or something and starts recruiting. That’s where he is right now. In LA. I think he’s doing well on this trip.

  Through Luc, I learned about the topside and the different places and things to do on Earth. That gave me the idea to run away. The first time I tried it though, I got it wrong and ended up in Alaska. I lasted about two days before I had to call my dad. Luc found it extremely funny, but my parents were pissed. I don’t think they ever really expected me to do it again. Which made it easier when I did. This time I landed in Miami. Lasted for one month before I let these morons capture me. And once again, I had to call my dad.

  So, if he is so cool why did I run away? Simple. I am a grown ass demon who has never been on her own because of an overbearing dad and a
mom who really doesn’t have a maternal mentality. So, whatever my dad says goes, regardless if it makes sense or not. And half of the time, it really doesn’t make any sense. But there is no arguing with my dad. He knows everything. Guess he didn’t change there.

  I cocked an ear as I heard what sounded like screeches and bats outta…well, Hell. I smiled. He was coming after all.

  ~*~

  Chapter 1 – Give ‘em Hell

  The smell was all wrong. I wrinkled my nose. It wasn’t supposed to smell like this. It was supposed to smell fresh. The stale air that stole into my nostrils was not a far cry from the sulfur laden air of my own home. How was I supposed to enjoy running away, if it smelled like home? An old man in a dirty T-shirt stared at me drunkenly. His eyes were red as he continued to stare and scratch his head in confusion. I guess it would be odd to see a woman suddenly appear in an alley dressed in my white Lilly Pulitzer dress and red Jimmy Choo heels.

  It wasn’t like I was trying to end up here. I thought about Miami and ended up in crap town. I had to transport quickly because I didn’t want my dad to know…or follow. Technically, I could have used one of the portals but then my dad would have an idea of where to look for me. Luc had told me that Miami was the place to go. Similar to LA, the weather was just right for a girl like me, but unlike LA, dad wouldn’t be monitoring the area. And with all the Voodoo, Santoria and Yaruba practitioners jumbling up the magic trails, it would take a while for dad to realize that I was there even if I had to use my powers.

  With a little magic and a lot of luck, I had managed to keep the small travel case, which contained all my clothes and shoes, closed. I had to do as much as possible before I left, because too much use of heavy magic would be sure catch my dad’s attention. The case shimmered and I could feel the magic slipping away. I needed to find someplace to relax and let the spell wear off. I really couldn’t risk doing too much so soon, so the conjuring I would have to do to rework this spell would definitely ping in Hell.

  I looked around at the box-like buildings that surrounded me and clutched my purse. I wasn’t afraid, trust me. Growing up in Hell, there were few things that scared me, but I could feel the magic surrounding my purse starting to shimmer as well. I glared at the drunk, allowing my eyes to glow red in the dark alley and he stumbled off.

  Ambling over to his bench, I placed my travel case on the chipped paint covering the slats of wood and opened my purse. The little dog inside stirred and I held my breath as he went back to sleep. I sighed. Good. I did not want Orthus to wake up now. It was bad enough that I had run away from home, but I had also stolen one of my dad’s hellhounds.

  Orthus snorted and rolled over in the confines of the purse. To look at him, you wouldn’t see hellhound, but he was enchanted. I made him look like a popular dog here in Miami, a Chihuahua. It had taken a lot of magic to squeeze his six feet into six inches. His paws rested under his chin and I knew he would be pissed if he saw himself now.

  He was quite prideful of the foot long claws that graced his body as well as the back spikes and the foot long fangs. Not to mention his two heads. Now, he sported one little head with a spiked collar and his fangs were shrunken to little nubs. He would never hurt me, I knew, but he might wreak havoc on the city in revenge. A pissed off hellhound was no joke.

  I noted the lack of trees and the miles; it seemed, of gray after gray after gray. It was all really very dull. If this was all Miami had to offer, I was casting a spell to get my ass to LA. This was crap. I walked along the dirty street, watching cars whiz by and raised my hand to signal a passing cab. I needed to get to a hotel.

  The driver barely looked at me before revving his engine and zooming by. I muttered under my breath and smiled in satisfaction as I heard the crash of metal against wood. The driver staggered from the yellow cab now wrapped around a utility pole. He rubbed his head and turned in confusion as he searched for the alligator I had placed in his path. He pulled a slim phone from his pocket and pushed a few buttons before angrily shouting at someone in Spanish.

  I walked away with my head held a bit higher. Don’t mess with the daughter of the devil. I felt a bit vindicated, but I still needed a place to stay. Near a Laundromat, a few guys leaned on a car. It had a long wide body and the tires seemed far too big for it. Music blared out of the speakers. The first guy, a tall Hispanic, gave me the once over. I narrowed my eyes at him and he smirked at me before sauntering over.

  “Mami, you look lost.”

  I gazed back at him. “Not lost, just looking for a hotel.”

  He snickered as the other young men joined him. “I got someplace you could rest your pretty little head,” he said with a laugh as one of the guys slapped him on the back.

  “Yeah,” another one piped up, sporting a darker tan. “And I got someplace you could rest your body, too.”

  I rolled my eyes and they walked around me, circling me like a pack of wolves. I sent out a small energy pulse and watched as they flinched at the scalding air with surrounded me. It was enough of a warning. They walked away slowly, heading back to the car. I focused the energy pulse at the car and watched as the tires slowly melted, then smiled and waggled my fingers as they rushed to the car, a few casting furtive glances in my direction. I feigned innocence and walked away again.

  An ad on a billboard caught my eye and I smiled at the picture of the phone held in the young woman’s hands, as she boasted about being the nation’s fastest. With a snap of my fingers and a few mumbled words, I held an exact replica of the phone the woman had in her hands. I repeated a knowledge spell and allowed the information about the phone to pour into my brain. In seconds, I had turned on the phone’s GPS and WiFi and used the internet to locate a hotel. On Miami Beach.

  I used a second knowledge spell to translate the Spanish mumblings I could hear from the group. I smiled as I made out the word “bitch”. I could sense they were scared. The first guy wanted to come after me because he was convinced that I had something to do with the tires, but the others rightly warned him to stay away. Something about Santeria and Olorishas. I knew what they meant of course and I smiled at him when he looked back at me. Still smiling, I winked at him and snapped my fingers, watching his eyes widen and his mouth drop as I disappeared.

  *

  The hotel smelled like freedom. It had a welcoming scent that I had come to associate as being far different than home. I walked into the wide lobby, my travel case clutched in one hand and my purse with Orthus hanging from my shoulder. High ceilings adorned with gold filigree and bright white walls greeted me. Swaths of colorful material hung from the ceiling, draping the room. The ocean breeze blew against the curtains and my skin and I shivered.

  It was damn cold. The hum of the air conditioner sputtered and stopped as I muttered and casually waved a hand. I smiled. Much better. My heels clicked on the floor as I made my way to the clerk who smiled brightly at me.

  “Checking in?”

  “Yes.” I handed him my ID. He thanked and tapped a few keys on the computer in front of him. I saw the frown on his face. Damn. I didn’t have a reservation. I muttered again as he looked up at me.

  “Ma’am, I’m afraid you don’t have a reservation and we are booked.” He slid the card back to me. “I am so very sorry.”

  “Look again,” I said, pushing the ID back to him and adding my credit card to the pile. His eyes widened as he took in the black card. The thickness and weight confirmed its authenticity. It was good being Satan’s daughter. I had taken one of the cards Luc used when he was recruiting and it was tied directly to an off shore bank account used by one of my father’s newest arrivals. I could spend for years and not use all the money in that account.

  The clerk tapped a few keys and nodded his head in conformation. “Here it is. I apologize for not seeing it before.” He picked up the cards, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “How many nights?”

  I paused. “How many nights can I stay?”

  His eyebrows rose slightly and he sta
red at me in puzzlement. “As many as you like ma’am. You have one of the penthouse suites, so you have as much privacy as you want.”

  “Is the room cold?”

  He nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes ma’am. Your suite has its own central air system so you can control the temperature as much as you want. Even if the hotel loses power, you are on a separate system, so you’ll be fine.” He fanned himself with a hand, “I know it’s hot, but it is summertime. You will feel so much better in your room.”

  I grimaced and made a mental note to break my central air system as soon as I was settled. He handed my information and credentials back to me and I stuffed them into my purse as he nodded a young man over.

  “This is Jose. He will escort you to your room.”

  The young man nodded and smiled before picking up my travel case. His dark eyes sparkled and his dark hair was brushed away from his face. He was gorgeous. I smiled back and followed him, watching the flex of his tight ass in his pants. I sighed. If they all looked like him here, I was really going to enjoy Miami.

  *

  Two hours later, I stood in the comfort of the hotel suite. I had succeeded in breaking the air conditioner and concealing it so that any monitoring showed a completely normal system. Already my room was starting to heat up and I knew it was only a matter of time before it felt more like home. The sun poured in through the rows of windows that made up the wall of the living room and I squinted at the bright light that illuminated the open space. I darkened the lens on my sunglasses and applied another layer of sunscreen.

  Sunlight had rarely touched my skin and as such made my skin super sensitive. I could literally burn to death if there were enough sunlight. I smiled. It was kinda where the whole vampire burning in the sun myth had come about. A few succubus demons preying on humans got caught in the sun too long and poof—instant flames. Of course that led people to think that vampires were demons even though there is a distinct difference between the species.