The knock at the door made her drop the armful of ice in the tub with a loud clatter. She planned to use the polar bath as a way of soothing her body after the flames died down. It cost her several potions and a curse to get this much ice at one time, given Hell’s climate wasn’t exactly conducive to ice-making.

Basic mortal things, like refrigerators, tended to work only sporadically or not at all. Some of the blame resided on the power generators for each circle. It took a lot of damned souls to pedal the bikes that spun the turbines to create electricity. If a pandemic took a section out – Hell not being immune to sickness, unfortunately – then brown outs occurred. Less in the Lord’s palace of course, given he got prime pick of pedal pushers, but still, a person couldn’t always rely on their electronics.

Not that Ysabel minded. She’d grown up in far more primitive conditions. As a matter of fact, she still refused to cave to the modern trend of owning a hellphone or posting a profile on Hellbook. She left that kind of easy accessibility and openness to the younger witches.

Tub full, she stood back to regard the mound of ice. Already the heat of her home fought to melt it. A rap came again at the entrance, more like an impatient pounding, and she cursed. The clock showed her only a few minutes away from her torture.

I need whoever it is to go away.

She ran to the door and slid open the peek-a-boo slot. Familiar turquoise eyes peered back.

“Little witch, little witch, let me come in,” he chanted in a gruff voice.

A smile curled her lips. “Not by the wart on my chinny chin chin,” she replied. “And before you try huffing and puffing, Nefertiti herself spelled this door. So forget blowing it down.”

“So open it then. I’ve got a lead I think on escapee number three.”

A glance at the clock showed one minute left. “Um, I’m kind of in the middle of something. Can you come back in like half an hour?”

“Why not just let me in and I’ll wait while you do your thing? I promise not to watch, unless you like an audience.”

“I can’t. Please. Just go away. I promise I’ll let you in when you come back.”

His eyes narrowed. “Open this door, Ysabel.”

“No. Now go away. I’ll talk to you in half an hour.” She slammed the slot shut and only allowed herself a moment to lean against the door which shuddered as he hit it with a fist. She didn’t have time to deal with his frustration.

The tickle in her toes started and she ran to the bathroom, dropping her robe as she moved. The fire erupted, and standing on the lava tile in her bathroom, she concentrated on breathing against the spiraling pain and flames.

I mustn’t scream. Remy might still be there, listening. Why that mattered, she couldn’t have said, but it did help her focus for a short moment. But the punishment would not allow her respite. Flames licked up her frame, demolishing her thin underpants and she couldn’t help but scream as the agony tore through her body.

Make it stop. Make it stop. Wishing, praying, pleading didn’t stop the torture.

As the inferno consumed her, her ears roared with the snap of the fire and a glance in her mirror horrified her, for there she stood – a living pyre of fire. She closed her eyes against the brilliant heat, but that just seemed to amplify the pain.

Her knees buckled, but she didn’t fall. Something clasped her and she moaned as she sensed more than saw Remy’s arms wrap around her waist. It had to be him. Who else was crazy enough to break down her door and interrupt?

Forcing open her eyes, eyes that wanted to water but couldn’t as the heat dried up all moisture, she saw the flames, not picky about their choice of combustion material, as they danced upon his skin. Even caught in her own nightmare, she knew enough to try and push him away with hands that glowed inferno bright.

He wouldn’t budge, and he didn’t scream – just held her as the curse ran its course.

Without being told, once the flames disappeared, he placed her in the ice bath, the shocking cold a welcome relief. Gasping from the pain, she couldn’t speak but remained aware of how he stroked her hair back from her face and how his arm rested around her shoulders, cradling her.

“Oh, my poor little witch,” he murmured. “No wonder you’ve been hiding.”

Teeth chattering as the cold penetrated her feverish limbs, she tried to reply. “Wh-what c-c-can I say? I’m h-h-hot.”

He didn’t laugh and she opened her eyes to see him staring at her with a tight expression. “How long has this been happening? And why?”

“S-s-since the souls es-escaped. And it won’t stop until I get them back.” As the chill seeped into her body, numbing her enflamed, yet undamaged nerves, she relaxed. “According to my contract, I will suffer the method of my death daily, the time of burning increasing with each day they are loose.”

“You burned alive!” It was less a question and more a shocked statement.

“It’s what they did to witches back in the day,” she said lightly. She shifted in her ice bath, clarity returning quickly now the curse had run its course for the day. It occurred to her at that moment she was naked. Not that Remy seemed to notice. He seemed too intent on her method of death. For some reason it miffed her.

“These souls, they had a hand in your burning?”

“Very much so. Pedro, Emmanuelle, and Alvaro were avid participants.”

“And the woman, Luysa and her son, Francisco?”

A sigh escaped her. How much of the truth should she relay? “Luysa was the one who headed the mob and the decision to burn me as a witch. I was involved with her son, and she couldn’t handle it. Thought I wasn’t good enough for her precious, baby boy.”

“You loved him?”

“I did. And I thought he loved me back.”

“But?”

Her words emerged low and steely. “He arrived in time to save me. To do something. But he never loved me. It was all lies. He watched me burn.” He proved that love didn’t matter. That no matter how well she knew a person, she could never truly trust them. People only ever looked out for themselves.

Remy jumped to his feet and paced the small amount of floor in the bathroom. “Fucking son of a bitch. I am going to rip his arm off and beat him with it. I am going to shove hot coals up his –”

“Why are you so mad?” she asked, distracting him with words as she stood from the tub. With her back to him, she reached for her robe. Her fingers never managed to clasp the fabric, as he spun her around and yanked her close. Damp, chilled flesh met the heat of his chest. It sent a shock through her, a pleasurable one. It was then she noticed that while his skin survived the fire, his shirt hadn’t. His pants, obviously a more flame retardant material, at least still covered him – how unfortunate. I’ll bet he’s a sight to see fully naked.

Where that surprising idea came from, she didn’t know, but once thought, she couldn’t deny a curiosity. Just how well-endowed was he?

“Why am I mad?” He seemed surprised by her question. “I’m pissed because this Francisco fellow is a grade A asshole who let his psycho mother torch you to death.”

“I still don’t get why you care. You didn’t know me back then and I’ve pretty much gotten over it.”

“Liar. What he did haunts you still so much that you won’t let another man get close to you. You fear commitment.”

How did he guess? Or was he fishing? “What are you talking about? I had Felipe over just last night.”

“I know that’s the name of your cat, just like I know you’ve not been with a man since your death.”

“Lucifer,” she growled. Stupid boss, getting involved in her business as usual. “If you give me any frigid or lesbian jokes I’m going to hurt you.”

“No jokes. I’m glad you’ve sworn off men.”

Puzzle, her brow creased. “You are. Why?”

“Because five hundred years of celibacy makes you practically a virgin. Untouched and so tempting. It makes the fact you kissed me and want me special.”

“I don’t want you.”

“Such a fibber.” He pressed her tighter to him, his hands, big and warm, rubbing over the bare skin of her back.

Despite her adamant stance, he was right. She lied. Her burgeoning arousal, evident by the rock hard nipples digging into his chest, all the proof he needed. But she couldn’t let her hormones rule her again. The last time it cost her life.

“I feel nothing for you.”

His hands dipped lower and cupped her ass cheeks, hoisting her body until her face was almost level with his.

“What are you doing?” she asked, more breathless than she liked.

“Proving you wrong,” he growled, dipping his head. He kissed her and Ysabel completely forgot why getting this close to Remy was a bad idea. Forgot everything except her need for more.

Her arms twined around his neck, her mouth opened for his tongue and a fire of a different sort, a pleasurable one that burned hotter than her nightmare, swept her body. He kissed her like he wanted to eat her alive. She kissed and nibbled at him, just as hungry.

The cold tile of her vanity distracted her when he seated her on the cool, polished surface. She ignored it as he pushed his thick body between her thighs. The leathery material of his pants provided a soft friction that impeded her from touching him skin to skin. Digging her fingers into the waist band, she tugged him closer, wrapped her legs around his torso and wantonly pressed herself against the hard bulge in his front.

Fingers tangled in her hair, he tilted her back, kissing her with a passion that left her breathless. Sucked at her tongue until she panted and mewled with need. When he pulled back, she keened in loss only to cry out in pleasure as his mouth travelled down the column of her neck and pressed scorching kisses in the deep valley of her breasts.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured against her skin, rubbing his bristle against her flesh, a teasing touch that made her arch. Her nipples, pointed and aching caught his attention. He plucked one with his lips, teasing the bud, sending coils of heat and desire to her cleft.

Raised in a time where sex was done, but not spoken of, she didn’t know what to say, what to beg for other than more. She needed him to ease the tightness inside her. To…

Lips still latched around her nipple, he plunged two fingers into her channel, and she screamed – a primal sound of pleasure as her body exploded so quick she couldn’t catch her breath.

And still he didn’t relent, stroking her with his fingers, sucking at her tender flesh until she writhed beneath him again, tilted her hips hard against his hand, begging silently for more.

She heard the sound of a zipper lowering. Felt the hard thickness of him as he slapped his shaft against her wetness. Too far gone to stop things or even coherently remember why she’d thought bedding Remy a bad idea, she waited for him to bring her to climax again.

A roar split through the sounds of their pants.

“What the fuck?” he cried, letting her go to turn and face the beast at her bathroom door.

Sighing, more in disappointment than anything else, Ysabel sat up and peered over his shoulder. She stared down the snarling creature in the doorway. “Meet my cat, Felipe. I should probably mention, he doesn’t like strangers.

---

Understatement of the year. The gigantic, furry, striped monster with saber teeth and red glowing eyes was her cat? “Holy fuck, woman. He’s the size of a bloody car.”

“Shhh,” she hissed as she hopped off the vanity and made her way around him to pet the head of the scary beast. “You’ll hurt his feelings.”

Hurt his fucking feelings? Was she loonier than his mother? No, but she did keep surprising him at every turn.

While she crooned nonsense to the giant hellcat, Remy did his best to buckle his pants, all the while aware of the feline’s big bright – not really friendly – eyes watching.

Miffed he’d gotten interrupted, and after she’d come apart so gloriously in his arms, his remark emerged a bit scathing. “Where do you keep the giant furball’s litter box? Or have you trained him to use the toilet?”

“Felipe is an outdoor cat who comes and goes as he pleases. Mostly goes when the lady kitties are in heat, don’t you, my big furry baby.”

Remy rolled his eyes as the creature craned its head for a scratch and began to purr, the sound on par with a lawnmower – missing a muffler, twenty years out of tune. And he could have sworn the damned thing smirked at him as his witch, still naked, rubbed against his fur.

Looking closer, Remy itched to grab his sword, especially as he recognized the intelligence in the hellcat’s eyes. This was no ordinary kitty she played with.

“Would you get Felipe a steak from the fridge while I get dressed?” she asked, flouncing off naked, her ass cheeks jiggling. Stunned speechless for a moment, the view truly incredible, he didn’t have time to retort before he found himself alone with the cat. A cat who stood and showed him his tail and ass end as it wandered away.

Emerging from the bathroom, he watched it saunter into the kitchen, and Remy stalked after it. “I know you’re not a pureblood hellcat. So what’s your game? And what do you want with my witch?” he growled in a low voice.

The huge cat shrugged, the gesture so human like, it took him aback.

“Did you find the meat?” Ysabel hollered from the bedroom. “I had the butcher deliver some this morning because I had a feeling Felipe was going to pop in.”

“I got it,” Remy snarled as he tore open the fridge and pulled out something bloody wrapped in brown, wax paper. He tossed the hunk of meat at the feline, trying not to wince as the huge jaws opened and snapped shut on its meal. I guess I should count myself lucky he didn’t take a bite of me while I was distracted. So distracted he never heard a gigantic feline arrive. Pet or not, he already didn’t like the creature.

Remy leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. “I’m telling you right now to stay out of my way. She’s mine.” He staked his claim in a low tone lest his words carry. He didn’t need Ysabel freaking out over his caveman announcement. Because if one thing became certain in that bathroom, and before he’d even touched her in a sexual manner, he wanted her.

Holding her as she burned alive, victim to a curse, he’d felt so many things– helpless, afraid, angry. He wanted to hunt the other souls down, right that very minute and bring them back to Hell so she wouldn’t hurt anymore. He wanted to ask Crax to let him aid in their punishment, knowing they’d hurt his witch. Hell, he even wanted to take Lucifer to task for putting such a ridiculous clause in her contract to start with.

He and the cat stared each other down, kind of disconcerting considering the giant beast also polished off the raw meat all the while, maintaining his gaze. It licked its chops and Remy snorted. “She has no idea does she? She thinks you’re just some plain ol’ cat.” The damn thing practically laughed at him, chuffing at his statement. “How long have you been hanging out around her?”

“I’ve had Felipe since he was a baby,” she answered, coming into the room wearing jeans and a halter top. “Do you often talk to animals? And of even more interest, do they answer back?”

“Just thinking aloud,” he lied. “So you found him as a kitten and took him in. Pretty brave considering his mama can track a flea through a swamp and would kill anyone who touched her kittens.”

“His mother was dead. I found him hiding in the brush nearby, half-starved and covered in snake bites. Even though he was just a baby, he was a fighter, weren’t you, Felipe?” she crooned scratching his chin again.

Yeah, he couldn’t hold back his snort or rolling eyes that time.

“What?” she asked, catching him in the act.

“You do realize he’s a three ton killer right?”

“Who would never hurt his mama, would you, baby?” She rubbed her nose against him, and if it weren’t for the fact Remy was insanely jealous of her treatment of the creature – who was definitely more than he let on – he would have thought it funny. His witch possessed even more facets than he knew. That of baby talking, crazy cat lady was surprising – and cute.

“Don’t call me when he decides to bite your face off one day.” He said it but didn’t believe it. Much as it disgusted him to admit, Felipe wouldn’t hurt the witch. Although, he’d probably tear apart anyone who tried. I should count myself lucky he didn’t tear off a limb when he caught me fooling around with her.

“I’d be more worried about somebody else losing dangly bits,” she replied with a sly smile and a pointed look at his covered groin.

It took a little more fortitude than he liked not to cover his man-parts at her subtle threat, especially when the damned feline bared its teeth. “You know, I liked you a lot more a few minutes ago when you were just moaning, ‘Yes! Yes, Remy, you big stud muffin. Give it to me.’”

The blush in her cheeks totally delighted him.

“I said no such thing,” she huffed.

“But you thought it,” he replied with a wink.

“You caught me during a weak moment. It won’t happen again.”

“Oh yes it will, but next time, we won’t get interrupted.” He’d make sure of it by dragging her to his place and locking his door; bars, chains, deadbolt and more if needed.

“But aren’t you the one who loves an audience?” And yes, she said it with a straight face.

“Witch.” He said it in a warning tone.

She smirked. “What, demon? Not used to your sex dolls talking back?”

“If you weren’t hiding behind your cat…”

“You’d what? Take me over your knee and spank me?”

“Yes. Then I’d lick those red cheeks. Then your pussy before I tossed you onto your bed and fucked you.”

That threw her for a loop judging by the flare of interest in her eyes and the way she bit her lower lip. “You know what, I’m almost still aroused enough to let you. But, not only will Felipe tear off an important part if you try, we have work to do. This whole daily barbecue thing is getting old real fast.”

Way to slap him with reality, however, she was right. He needed to track those souls for her. Save her from the curse. Buy groceries for a month. Block off the kitty’s access to the apartment. Then he could put his plan into action, a pleasurable plan that would result in chafing in sensitive places and a smile so silly he’d put clowns to shame.

First though, work. Because he couldn’t do a thing until the job was done.

But she is so worth the effort. And the aching blue balls. Sigh…