"Wake up, Claire. We're home now."
Hot breath brushed against her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Her eyes flickered for a second then fully opened, her body now moving though still clogged with sleep. She had been carried into a large room, enormous compared to the last one, illuminated by wreaths of flame suspended in the air below the ceiling. Fresh spattering of blood covered the walls, shining in the light.
Along the far wall three beds had been lined up in a neat row, the middle bed twice the size of the end two. All three were covered in black sheets and blankets, each embroidered with distinct delicate silver scrollwork. Other than the beds, the room was sparsely decorated, with only an enormous table stretching along the entire length of one wall and a single strip of metal holding flimsy pieces of clothing. Obviously meant for her, though she wondered how such sparsely-designed garments passed for clothes.
Clothes? Those are just left-over fabric scraps from a quilting party.
"Come. Let's get you fed."
Thaltos continued to carry her in his arms, leading her to the table. Made of a mammoth slab of dark stained wood, it was piled high with almost every dish she could have imagined. Steaming platters of roasted meats, whole coked fish and endless bowls of fresh fruits were scattered over the dark surface. The smell alone snapped her mind fully awake and made her stomach growl.
He stopped just inches from the table, cradling her in his arms as he used his foot to pull out one of the elaborately carved chairs. He set her down gently, pushing the chair back in so her bare chest brushed the edge of the table. Thaltos turned and pulled the chair next to her, settling in and leaning one elbow of the table.
He grinned at her. "Are you awake yet?"
She smiled and nodded. "It's kind of hard not to wake up. Your voice is so loud."
His smile widened. "I apologize. I cannot help to volume." His eyes flicked to the table. "I'm going to venture a guess that you're hungry, especially after the way Darrow tortured you last night."
She blushed and looked away, hoping to avoid that subject.
He softened his smile. "What would you like?"
She scanned the layout of food for a moment, overwhelmed by the amount of choices she had. She decided it was best to start slow and reached out to pull a monstrous bowl of cherries towards her. The bowl was piled high with ripe fruit, each piece a deep burgundy red and sumptuously plump.
Excited and starved, she plucked one of the cherries from the bowl turning the stem in her fingers to watch it spin. Thaltos cleared his throat, breaking her concentration. She looked up to see a pained look on his face, as if he wanted to tell her something but wasn't quite sure how to say it.
Oh, boy. This can't be good.
She lowered the cherry out of her sight, concerned. "What?"
He sighed heavily. "Before you eat, there is something you need to know. A disclaimer, if you will."
She carefully set the cherry on the table, turning her full attention to him. Something in her gut twisted, alerting her that what he may say might not be good.
Thaltos took a deep breath. "This food, all of it, is made from this place. Every single piece was harvested from somewhere in Hell, meaning it belongs to us."
She nodded silently, the knot in her belly twisting tighter.
"That means any person or creature that ingests this food also belongs to Hell. You eat that cherry, Claire, and you can never leave here. You eat anything off this table and you
belong
to us for eternity." His gaze never faltered, though she could see a flicker of pain flash through his eyes.
She sat back in her chair, staring at the small piece of fruit. She'd waited patiently for a bombshell to be dropped and he didn't disappoint. Her mind spun in circles, weighing the options. She could refuse the food and starve, but still have a chance to get out of here. Or she could eat and be bound to this shithole forever. Two easy, wonderful options to pick from.
Ah, decisions, decisions. Eeny, meeny, miney, mo...
While her brain ran around like a headless chicken, her stomach had other ideas. Three days devoid of food had left her body ravenous and irritated, an issue her innards were determined to address. Her stomach rumbled painfully, making her wince at her sudden discomfort. The painful emptiness halted any further debate, her body making the decision for her: Eat or die, and damn the consequences.
Her mind made up, she reached out and picked up the cherry from the table, holding it by the stem as she tilted her head back and opened her mouth wide. She bit down gently, pulling the stem free as she sliced through the juicy flesh. Deliciously sweet with the perfect amount of tartness. No wonder people would sell their souls for this. Forcing her fear down, she swallowed what was left of her pride along with the cherry, spitting the pit into her hand.
She looked up to see him smiling at her, his night-colored teeth shining in the light of the flames. "Good girl."
Thaltos reached over and plucked another cherry from the bowl. Reaching over, he dangled it just above her head. She recognized the game instantly and tilted her head back, opening her mouth so he could feed her. Placing the fruit on her tongue, he held it still so she could bite the sweet flesh, pulling slightly to detach the stem.
She giggled as she chewed the fruit, her thoughts turning to why she had ever questioned wanting to leave. She had three loyal - albeit demonic - lovers who had sworn to pleasure her and make her happy. She had an endless supply of delicious food, a warm bad and no worries. Why had she ever wanted to leave this place? She must have been crazy. Or drunk.
Swallowing the cherry, she looked down at her hand, inspecting it for the tiniest brand or marking. Nothing had changed. Her flesh remained as rosy and warm as ever. She stared at it, confused. Shouldn't there be some kind of tattoo that solidified her pact? Some evil-looking burn that showed she belonged there?
She looked back at Thaltos, a giant question mark on her face. "I don't feel any different."
He chuckled. "You're not supposed to. That's the design of it. Anyone who unknowingly ate any of this food wouldn't know they were bound here until they tried to leave. Evil, I know, but that's how this place is set up. For a person who's not supposed to be here, this world is full of traps."
"That's cruel." She popped another cheery in her mouth.
He shrugged. "I don't make the rules. I make deals."
She smiled, twisting another fruit in her fingers. Now comfortable with her surroundings, Claire's natural playfulness and curiosity started to come out. She leaned forward, cupping her chin in her palm. "What kind of deals? Just soul trades? Or do you do something more?"
He smiled. "Mostly soul trades, but I have a very specific clientele. Mine must be, shall we say 'wealthy' enough, to pay the price. They need to have some form of payment large enough for me to do business with them."
Her eyes widened a bit. "Really? What kind of payment do they need?"
He sat back in his chair, lacing his fingers together across his muscled chest. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Any human soul can be bartered, but the quality of the soul determines the quality of the deal. The soul of a murderer or an addict can be traded, but you won't get much. A virgin soul like yourself always offers the best bargain."
"Huh. That explains why my grandmother was so intent of keeping me a virgin." She lowered the cherry, dropping her hand to the table.
Thaltos waved a clawed hand. "No, that was simply one of the rules of your grandmother's faith. The fact that it kept you a virgin is supply luck. It was your parents who made the deal, my dear. Your grandmother would have killed herself before even coming near us." His lips twitched up in a tiny smile.
She scoffed. "You're right. Nana would have pulled out the shotgun on my parents if they hadn't already left the house." She looked back at him. "What's going to happen to them?"
Thaltos shrugged. "Not sure. I make deals but I'm not the one who enforces them. I suppose, unless they've have done something horribly wrong, your parents won't be collected until their deaths. When that is, I do not know. But they should be safe until they have to face whatever god they believe in."
She chewed her lip. "They're Satanists."
He resumed his comfortable position. "Ah, then they're fucked."
Yes they were. That was a fact that Claire had long ago accepted. They had bartered her soul off -- true, it was for a good reason -- but there was noting she could do to help them. Her soul belonged to Thaltos, Darrow and Silthos. Her parents, when they died, belonged to Satan. Whether any of them liked it or not.
Such is they way of making deals with the devil.
She shrugged again. "And I don't suppose there's anything I can do to help them? No bargain I can make?"
Thaltos offered a sly smile. "Not unless you offer to suck the old demon off."
That comment made her playfulness come out in full swing. Moving as fast as she could, she whipped her hand out and forced the cherry into his mouth, silencing his words. The look of stunned alarm on his face was priceless. She fell back into her chair, clutching her stomach as she burst out laughing. She struggled to catch her breath as she laughed, managing to crack her eyes open to watch him.
Thaltos sat in the chair watching her, a wicked smile on his lips. He had swallowed the cherry, pit to stem, and was now watching her with humorous eyes. He stood suddenly, his towering height casting a shadow over her body.
