Dancing With the Devil (The Devil #2) (4 page)

Another few days went by and Harleen felt herself begin to get used to her new place here in Hell.  She accompanied Andrew to Court as well, and only said something when she believed Andrew’s court wanted the wrong punishment or made the wrong decision based on little to no evidence.  This, of course, probably garnered her more enemies than friends, and there were times when she wondered if she embarrassed Andrew in any way by her outspokenness.  He never mentioned anything and she didn’t want to bring up something if it didn’t exactly matter.

Currently, she sat in the backyard of the castle; a beautiful meadow filled with flowers and greenery.  She was certain that if someone took a picture and proclaimed it was indeed Hell, people would certainly laugh at such a ridiculous notion.  If anything, it might remind people of the Garden of Eden rather than a fiery torture chamber.  She was in a loose, comfortable gown, her hair free from any restraints, and a book from her library in her lap.  She had always wanted to read literature classics from Shakespeare to Sherlock Holmes but never seemed to find any time.  But now…

However, before she could flip through Homer’s
Odyssey
, an image of Rosco slid into her mind and her heart suddenly clenched together with guilt.  How could she possibly be enjoying herself when she had left him behind?  How could she revel in her time spent with Andrew when she had never broken up with Rosco in the first place?  Did that make her a cheater?  Yet, she couldn’t help but enjoy her time with Andrew.  And it wasn’t as though she was doing anything wrong, exactly.  Yes, she slept next to the man who was technically her new husband, but she never engaged in anything inappropriate with him regardless of Andrew’s intentions.  So her body responded to such situations where his kisses were light yet sensual.  Andrew always had a knack for giving her either butterflies or goose bumps, and sometimes even both.  And yes, certainly she was tempted to give into her desire that was both craved and feared, but she hadn’t.  At least not yet.  Who knew if that would change?

But was she and Rosco even together anymore since they had been separated?  Were her ties to Andrew – her marriage – did that outweigh a high school relationship?  Or was it the actual consummation of a relationship that made it official?  Because if that was it, nothing was official between her and Andrew, or her and Rosco for that matter.

“My, my, Your Highness,” a familiar silky lilt said.  Harleen glanced up, surprised to see Nigel striding towards her, still in the same clothes as he had been in during Court that morning.  “You certainly love to read, do you not?  First a trip to the bookstore, and now…”  His voice drifted off when he found himself standing directly in front of the Queen before him before squatting in a kneeling position so he was more level with her eyes.  They left hers for a moment, descending so he could aptly read the title of her book.  “What happened to
The Art of Making Love
, Your Highness?  And here I thought that would be a most fascinating read…”  Again, he let his voice trailed off, though now his eyes held a suggestive sparkle that, if one looked at closely, held an unmistakable darkness to it.

Harleen felt her entire face set aflame, though she wisely chose not respond to his provocations.  It wouldn’t matter what she would say anyways; her blush would have given her away.

“Your Highness, might I say that I personally adore the way your face looks when you blush.”

Harleen felt a shiver slide down her back, though it had nothing to do with her body’s response to his silky voice.  There was just something uncertain, dark, about the way he spoke, and she did not like it.  Her stomach churned, as though it warned her about something sinister.

And in reality, it was.

Before Harleen knew it, Nigel had her pinned on her back, his greedy fingers groping her body as his mouth tried to claim hers.  At first, Harleen was too shocked to scream.  Her body froze as her mind finally processed what was going on and what was happening to her.  And then she started to react.  Her arms started thrashing, her body started struggling, and every time her mouth had ample opportunity, she screamed – or at least attempted to scream.  This seemed to amuse Nigel to no end, and he started chortling a laughter that was incapable of reaching his eyes.  His fingers coiled around the silky material that made up her dress, and he pulled, causing the fragile dress to tear and her sleeve to rip.

It was then that Harleen realized there was a great chance she might actually get raped by this man.  No one was around; it was highly unlikely anyone could hear her screaming, either.

Then, just like that, Nigel was gone, off her body.  At first, Harleen thought he had decided to cease in raping her because she was Queen, and no doubt, such an act would have terrible consequences.  That wasn’t it at all.  Once she had found the strength, she sat up, caught her breath, and made out Andrew, sitting on top of Nigel, punching him.  Nigel certainly put up a good fight, and there were a few times Harleen winced when Nigel’s fist struck Andrew’s jaw.  However, within moments that seemed to feel like forever, Andrew had him restrained.  He wouldn’t let up until his guards came out, and then ordered that Nigel be placed in the dungeons.

It was only then, when Andrew deemed that Harleen was truly safe, did he go over to her, check on her, make sure she was all right.  His hands were shaky as he knelt down in front of her, his dark hazel eyes excruciatingly worried without any sort of knowledge on how to fix it.  Andrew was the King of Hell, and he didn’t know how to make everything better.  His lip bled due to Nigel’s punch, but the metallic taste of blood did nothing to deter him from his eyes sweeping over Harleen.  When his eyes saw her broken sleeve, they narrowed, and he had to clench his jaw together to refrain from taking his anger out on the woman before him.  It wasn’t her fault.

“We’ll get you a new one,” he told her, his voice throaty, unsure of just how to begin this.

Harleen smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.  She knew Andrew had no idea what to say to make it better, and to be completely honest, she highly doubted words could do that.  But she felt safer now that he was around her.

“You’re bleeding,” she murmured, reaching up and caressing his bottom lip, only stopping when she reached the red liquid.  “Let’s clean you up, okay?”  It didn’t appear as though Andrew was going until she quietly added, “Please?”  This would give Harleen something to focus on.

He nodded, and the two walked back to their room.  Harleen managed to find some paper towels and grabbed a couple, before dampening one of them.  Then she turned her attention back to Andrew’s lip.  She had to stand slightly on her toes to get a better look at it, and the thought caused Andrew to smile.

“I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t been there and he had…”  Andrew let his voice trail off, not even wanting to entertain the notion that Nigel was successful at doing what he intended when it came to her.

“To be honest, I have no idea how you can care about me in such a short period of time,” she said, avoiding his eye as she dabbed the damp towel against his lip.

That was what she was worried about?  Really?  After all she’d been through?  “Yeah, well compassion cannot be rationalized,” he snapped, a bit harsher than he had originally intended.  How could she be thinking about how he had felt about her when someone had just…  He didn’t understand, and it was as simple as that.

Without warning, he tilted his head forehead and gently placed a kiss on her own lips.  Harleen did not expect anything of the kind, and as a result, couldn’t turn her head.  A blush cascaded over her face, but something inside of her compelled her to kiss him back, softly, like a caress.

“And you?” he asked, after breaking apart from her, unsure if that was the smartest move.  He just had to kiss her.  And his expectations, despite the kiss’s simplicity, were exceeded.

“I’m fine,” she told him, avoiding his eyes as she now dried the wound with the plain paper towel.

“You were nearly raped,” Andrew pointed out, his voice strained from trying to control it.  She could frustrate him.

Surprising him, Harleen placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him.  “Please,” she said, her voice a whisper.  “I don’t want to think about it or I’ll fall apart.”

Andrew could think of nothing else to do than to wrap his arms around her and pull her close to him so her head rested on his chest and his head rested on her own.  They fit together, like two jigsaw pieces.  “I’m never going to let anything happen to you, Harleen,” he murmured in her hair.  “I promise.”

Harleen had never felt so safe in her life, and she closed her eyes, knowing, without a doubt, Andrew wouldn’t break his promise.   
  

It was only when Harleen told Andrew that she wanted to be alone for a little while did Andrew finally leave Harleen to herself.  However, he made certain that there were two guards in front of her bedroom door to ensure her safety.  He highly doubted anyone else in his Court would attempt a similar act of such violence against his Queen, but if such a thing were to happen, he would feel upset with himself if he simply sat back and allowed something like that to happen again.  He wouldn’t – couldn’t.

Andrew didn’t understand Nigel’s frame of mind whatsoever.  Why would a respected member of Andrew’s Court do something like this?  It was one thing to disagree with his choice of a Queen, but Nigel should have spoken to him about it, not punish her for something she couldn’t change, couldn’t help.  In fact, if it wasn’t for Harleen’s uncle Edgar, she would still be at Newport Harbor High School, dating that tool Rosco, and eagerly anticipating the arrival of her college acceptance or rejection letters.  But somehow – some would call it fate – everything fell into place.  Now Andrew couldn’t imagine his Queen being anyone else but the woman he had.

His feet led him down the south staircase and into the dungeons, where Nigel was kept.  Andrew couldn’t help himself.  He needed to attempt to interrogate Nigel. Maybe Nigel was so mad he would talk about it.  At least, that’s what Andrew hoped.  He squared his shoulders, standing tall, as Nigel’s cell came into view.  Another two guards were in front of it, preventing any rescue attempts – whether they were from Nigel on the inside or any accomplice on the outside – from taking place.  When they say Andrew, both guards tilted their head forward, giving him a proper brow without stepping out of line in any way.  Andrew returned the bow, but his eyes were only focused on the pitiful prisoner currently in a sitting position, his back leaning against the cobblestoned wall.

“Leave us be for a few minutes gentlemen,” Andrew order in a crisp, cool voice.  His eyes narrowed when he saw Nigel look up at him, and Andrew locked his jaw, wanting Nigel to speak first if the prisoner chose to speak at all.

The guards nodded, knowing better than to question their king, and disappeared down the small hallway – enough distance between them to ensure they did not overhear a conversation they were not permitted to listen to, but close enough to aid their King should he give a shout, or anything that revealed he was in distress.  Andrew didn’t even watch them go.  His eyes were fixated on the man before him, the man behind the bars.  Nigel, too, remained silent, and it was only after minutes passed, did he finally say something.

“And what do I owe this grand honor to, Your Highness?” Nigel asked, obvious sarcasm dripping from his rich, silky tone.  His blue eyes flashed but Andrew wasn’t intimidated.  He wasn’t afraid of anything.  “Did you come to thank me for breaking her in for you?  Apologize for stopping me?”

Without warning, Andrew reached in a wrapped his long fingers around Nigel’s throat, squeezing him without mercy.  Andrew’s face had contorted into a scowl; he wanted nothing more than to see the man be deprived of oxygen from his own hand.  Andrew wouldn’t be able to kill him, of course, but the transference between alive in Hell, to death, to becoming alive once again, was the most painful attack on someone anyone could come up with.  And Andrew was tempted to spend the entire day slowly killing Nigel, watching him come back to life only to do the same thing once more.

“See, what I can’t understand is why,” Andrew said through gritted teeth as he applied more pressure to Nigel’s neck, ignoring the gasps and chokes coming from the prisoner.  “
Why
?”

With that, Andrew released him only to have Nigel respond in some way.

After a moment of coughing and trying to reclaim his breath, Nigel looked up, a gaze of pure hatred written all over his face.  But he didn’t deny Andrew’s request, and, in fact, complied with it.  Andrew needed to hear this, needed to realize just what became of him, and as a result, his kingdom.

“Simply put, Your
Highness
,” Nigel started, each word dripping with emphasized dryness, “you are going
soft
.  I’m not exactly sure if your new trophy wife is to blame, though I think she is.  I did what I had to do for the people.  The people.  You remember your people, yes?  How can you appear to be intimidating when you allow some girl to step in a start making decisions for our Court?  You ignore what needs to be done because your heart – I was surprised to find that you actually had one – got in the way of your head.  This isn’t some fairytale.  This is Hell.  And I cannot, in good faith, allow you to get soft and risk ruining Hell’s reputation.”

“I am surprised at your concern, Nigel,” Andrew said, his voice low and articulate.  “But to be honest, I could care less at what your opinion of your
Queen
or my rulings is.  I am your King, and I shall do what I see fit despite your worrying or grievances.  I have no idea what your punishment will be, but a few centuries down here should be plenty of time for me to figure it out.  I can promise you this, Nigel.  Your punishment will not be pleasant.  You will suffer a great deal.  And anybody who even thinks of releasing you from here will be locked up and can suffer along with you.”  He turned then, and headed down the hallway that would lead him up to the south staircase.

“Do whatever you want to me,” Nigel called after his retreating figure.  “But your Queen will get hurt sooner or later at your obvious lack of concern for your kingdom.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Andrew didn’t even look back as he took the stairs two at a time.  That didn’t, however, give him reason to calm down at all.  In fact, if he was honest, his stress levels had increased dramatically, and he needed to find some sort of way to calm himself down.  To get his head on straight and to figure out what he was going to do if what Nigel had said was correct.  If people were planning something against him and Harleen.  He’d like to see someone even attempt to do something to her.  He needed to make an example of Nigel.

There was one place he usually went to in order to help him reduce stress levels, but before he left, he wanted to check on Harleen, to make sure she was all right.  Silently, he walked back into the bedroom he shared with her and found her slipped under the covers, her eyes closed and her breathing steady.  A fire was slowly dying out in the fireplace, and something inside of him told him she had burned the dress.  He didn’t blame her.

Harleen was sleeping.

Andrew took a long moment to look at her, to really study her and try to capture what was going through her mind in that exactly moment.  A stray strand of hair had fallen in her face, and with a slight brush of his fingers, he curled it over her ear.  His eyes dropped to her eyes, wondering what it was dreamt about.  If she had a nightmare, or if her dreams provided ample recluse from everything that had happened to her that day.  And then there were her lips – those lips that he had barely tasted and yet could not get enough of.  His anticipation was building until the moment when she would pursue a real relationship with him, when they could start working together as a team, rather than apart.  His eyes took in the graceful slope of her long neck, and without stopping himself, trailed his fingers down it.  She shifted in her sleep, but a soft, delighted smile took hold of her lips, and Andrew couldn’t help but smile in return.

He couldn’t believe something horrible had almost happened to her.  If he hadn’t been outside at the time, didn’t hear a struggle for off…  Andrew didn’t want to think about it, but he knew he was lucky to have prevented such an atrocious act from happening to his Queen.  If Nigel told the truth, next time, he might not be so lucky.

He needed to leave, to sort this entire mess out.  And hopefully he wouldn’t have to worry about it, that Nigel lied about everything.  Maybe he was.  But Andrew didn’t want to take that chance. 

Without another thought, Andrew leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Harleen’s forehead, hoping the gentle act wouldn’t wake her.  He wanted nothing more than to do the same action against her lips, but he didn’t want to startle her, and he had already taken too many chances when it came to kissing her.

When he finished, Andrew swept his eyes over Harleen once again before standing up and straightening, and then headed out the door.  He would solve this if it killed him and brought him back.