3. The Nameless

The Nameless

I can't afford to fail.

I refuse to.

Clutching the halo in my hand so tightly I'm certain it will slice through my palm. I steel myself for whatever comes next.

I can't let it go. I can't—

"You don't belong here."

The voice slithers over my skin, leaving an invisible trail as it goes.

The demon turns me in their hand, moving me until they can press their face close.

I see their massive horns first. Black and glittering, they are cracked and chipped.

And then wings. Brittle and burned things that look like torn leather stretched over charred bone. If this demon can fly, I would be amazed.

Dark eyes beneath a cruel brow glare at me over a mouth that seems locked in a perpetual snarl. Big pointy teeth… I stare at them and grip the halo tighter.

I can't let it go.

But something sharp and smooth wraps around my wrist, slithering between my palm and that halo. And before I can do more than breathe a sharp protest, the demon takes it from me. They don't let me go. They don't even release me when their tail places the halo back onto the plinth.

And I don't look away either.

I can't.

There's something hypnotic in the depths of their dark eyes.

I've memorized all of the named demons in the convent records. This one was not among them.

Movement in my periphery makes me flinch. It breaks his spell.

The creature there is tiny. A body like a hairless mouse, it scurries over the walls. Chittering away and I don't like how it feels more dangerous than the demon who holds me.

But that's a lie. It has to be.

I look up at the demon. "Who are you?"

"He has no name." The tiny creature laughs like a villain who's sucked down helium… until the nameless demon throws an iron spike through it, silencing it by turning it into an ashy goo.

"The pest was right. I have no name." His claw hooks in the chiffon between my breasts. The tip is hot as it rests against my sternum. "But you do."

I do. But I'm not going to tell him.

"Let me go."

"No." His grip tightens on me and he lifts me closer to him, nostrils flaring.

"Saints don't leave the Devil's dance floor without risking their own damnation." He carries me away from the halo. "And I am yours."

I slip my hand down my side, through the fabric until my fingers touch the hilt of my knife. But the moment I grasp it, the iron turns to rust in my hand.

"Let me go." I say it again, as sternly as I can manage.

Until the sun rises, saints are supposed to be able to force devils to release them with those three words.

But this demon isn't a sinner.

"Why should I?" He traces a claw down the side of my cheek. "You're not a sinner. You don't wear a cage."

His whole hand grips my face, as if to make sure.

"You're not a saint. Saints are good girls. Good girls don't leave the dance floor."

"I'm lost."

He laughs. It's a low, dark sound.

"You're a liar. And a pest." His smile widens and his teeth seem to get sharper. "You've seen what I do to pests."

I look at the walls. There are dozens of other streaks of that ashy gray goo, but they're dealt with and he's looking at…

"Should I see what a spike through you will do?"

I swallow and shake my head. "Please don't."

"And what would you have done if you'd been able to pull that knife?"

I swallow and shrink back into his hand.

"Don't worry. No one blames the mouse for biting the cat when it's backed into a corner."

"If you let me go," I say, lying again. "I'll leave."

"That's not how it works." He shakes his head and his horns scrape on the cavern ceiling. "I'm supposed to drag you out and throw you in with the other damned souls, but you are flesh and bone. Maybe I should take you to the Devil himself instead."

No!

"Please don't."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"I'll do anything you want." I have to be the one who changes the situation. I can't let him do it.

"Anything?" he asks. The soft laughter that comes with it makes me want to run. But I can't.

"Yes."

His claw slices through the soft fabric of the dress' false corset and I hold my breath as he bares me to him. He licks his lips as his gaze coasts over every inch of me he's uncovered.

"Such a small and breakable thing… Let's see if you're a liar in this as well."

Even though the air around us is hellishly hot, I shiver when his tongue delves between my legs.

It's only for a moment, but it's enough to send my mind spinning.

"Will you run away?" he asks. "Or will you really do anything ?"

He releases me and I know there's no point running. He'll only catch me again. He might never let me go again.

Sitting back in the dark tumble of rocks, he looks like a prince of hell, waiting for a supplicant to suck his—

He pulls away the tattered cloth that wrapped around his waist and I swallow a little of the trepidation it immediately shocks through me.

But it's not the only feeling that squirms in my veins.

Thick and dark and studded through with piercings, the nameless demon's cock should scare me into retreat.

Licking my lips, I take a step forward.

"No," he says, stopping me. "If you want to come to me. You'll do it on your knees."

I blink at him and then, I look down.

The floor is rough and uneven. If he was a human man, I'd tell him to fuck off, grab my things and go.

But I can't leave without the halo. I don't really have a choice.

I keep my eyes locked on his as I go to all fours.

The stones are sharp and brittle against my knees and I feel them tear at my skin.

Each movement hurts, each touch to the ground bites like the sharpest teeth.

By the time I reach him, I don't know how I can stay upright on my brutalized knees.

My hands are covered in a layer of grit and slicked with blood.

I look at them and try not to shake.

But before I can ask him to let me clean them off, he scoops a handful of clear liquid from a depression in the rock beside him and pours it over my skin.

I jerk away, gasping, the moment it touches me. It's not water. Even the hottest water wouldn't burn that much. I curse under my breath and turn to say worse to him.

His smile stops me.

He wants me to fail.

Gritting my teeth, I wait for the tremors to cease and the pain to ebb. I can't fail.

"Does it hurt?"

I glare up at him. "Yes."

"Good." He strokes himself… harder, bigger.

"Everything here is pain, pest." He tips my face up with a claw. "Are you still willing to do anything?"

I nod, too afraid to trust my voice. I want to tell him to fuck off… I want to know what he tastes like.

Fingers trembling, still, I clench my teeth as I wrap my hand around his hot skin. Eventually, that pain will become background noise.

I wrap my hand around the bulbous tip and work my way down in small movements.

Keeping my eyes on him, I stroke until I touch the searing hot metal pierced through him. When I flinch, his lip curls in a smile.

"Are you trying to scare me away?" I would think he'd want his head—and to fuck me over, too—first.

"Maybe." He laughs at me.

"What do you get if I run?"

"The pleasure of chasing you down, and rutting you like an animal."

I swallow because I can't voice the thoughts in my head. Not without being called a liar again.

That is a pleasure I won't give him, even if a wicked little voice in the back of my head tells me I'd like it.

I need to stop asking questions. I'm wasting time.

And the only way forward is down.

Pressing a kiss to the thick underside of his cock, I expect his skin to taste acrid or acidic, but it doesn't.

It's not sweet, by any means, but… he's wrong. Not everything here is pain.

Most of it is.

My knees sting and ache and the sides of my vision have started to haze, but I think I've stopped bleeding.

Precum drips onto my hand and I flinch at the sudden lack of sensation.

I smooth more of it over my palms and try to keep my sigh of relief to myself. It numbs my flaming skin.

I suck a little harder, a little faster.

There is an end to this game—there has to be—and I will get there as quickly as possible.

Or I'll try.

The demon stops me.

His hand grips my hair and he holds me where I am, making me work for it. Giving me nowhere to retreat to.

"Still willing to do anything?"

I nod, using the movement to take even more of him.

Claws slipping through my hair on either side of my head, he moves me, fucking my mouth like I'm a toy. Hitting the back of my throat and making me gag, like he wants to break me.

He'll have his fun and then throw me to the vultures… if I can survive it—I have to survive it—I'll let him, and then do what I came here for.

Closing my eyes, I let him use me. I want more than I should. I need more.

Hands on his knees, I grip them instead of reaching down to ease the tightness coiling at my clit.

I want to come, even though I shouldn't.

I want him to come and not just to get this over with.

The realization makes me freeze. And then, as if bidden by that shock of desire, his cum bursts into my mouth and my eyes go wide.

He releases me and I pull back, choking as his release continues to flow.

It covers my hand and drips to my thighs, dark and viscous and shimmering… the oil-slick of it makes me gag.

Nothing hurts where it touches me.

Falling from my lips in a long stream, it joins the pool of blood that has formed around me from my shredded knees and feet and hands.

Oh no…

The haze at the edge of my vision presses closer and I sway. The darkness swallows me up before I feel the hard thud of the ground.

The blackout only lasts a moment. I come back as my head hits his hand, not the stone beneath me.

"You are not very durable, are you, pest?"

"I lost too much blood." I mutter as he lifts me. I'm too weak to fight him. "I kind of need it."

And I am going to have to rest if I want to help Skye. There's no way I'll be able to climb the stairway like this.

I'd fall straight back into hell if I tried.

It's delirium that makes me think he's gentle. I'm numbed by his cum and dizzy from the blood loss. I'm fuzzy from the exertion. I'm…

The slab of rock he sets me down on is concave, holding me like a cradle.

I sink into it like it's going to swallow me whole, and when the demon tosses my ruined dress on top of me like a piece of trash, I don't try to bat it away, I let the swimming sensation drag me back down to unconsciousness.