There is no such thing as trust in Hell and true loyalty is rare. There is only mutual gain.

Seralla's words were a validation of all the suspicions Logan had begun to worry might be true. It cut deep to have his worst fears confirmed.

The Succubus had not hesitated, for even a moment, to betray her Master at the mere possibility of personal gain. He now knew all of Hell was a battleground of ambition and shifting alliances. Exactly as one would expect of a world ruled by demonic creatures.

Creatures just like Beauty.

He glanced over to see her watching him with those alien, golden, cat eyes. As usual, her face was unreadable. Her thoughts, and her motives, remained a mystery.

Trust and loyalty were alien concepts here. Expecting to find either was foolish, even with her. Perhaps especially with Beauty. Worse, it was dangerous.

It all comes back to predator or prey, he thought as they traveled across the broken landscape. And which one I choose to be.

Perhaps it was better this way. Any sense of loyalty he felt toward Beauty, or anyone in this nightmare realm, was an anchor he could not afford if there was to be any hope of finding a way to escape Hell. Self-preservation had to be his priority. Escape had to be his only goal.

No one spoke on the trek back to the cavern. The only sounds were the crunch of their feet in the dirt and the moan of the Hellwind. Thankfully, it was a mild breeze for now, but that could change at any moment into a furious, scouring gale that tore at exposed flesh.

Everything in Hell, from the inhabitants to the weather, was a danger. Logan swallowed against an impotent fury that seemed to always be simmering in his chest these days. I hate this fucking place! There has to be a way out and it can’t happen soon enough.

They reached the cavern without issue. Seralla had to be helped up onto the ledge to reach the entrance. It was awkward because of her broken wing, and Beauty was not happy to assist, but it was that or untie the demon’s hands, which wasn’t an option he was willing to consider.

Once inside, Seralla looked around. “This is where you shelter?” she laughed. “It’s even worse than I thought.”

“No one asked you for decorating advice.” He gave her a gentle push to get moving again. “Sit over there.”

Karen settled in nearby, looking unhappy. Beauty stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“We talk?”

“And leave her unguarded? No.” He brushed her hand away. “Later. Trust me, ok?”

Trust me. Logan wanted to vomit to hear those words from his own mouth. Because I can no longer trust you.

He settled on the other side of the fire pit and started the tedious process of creating a flame. Seralla watched him with a mixture of amusement and pity.

“Ok,” he said as he worked. “You’ve had time to think about it, so let’s talk it through. How do you see this happening?”

“I think it best that I go alone,” the silver Succubus replied. “If I can secure an audience with…”

“No.” Logan paused in his work to stare across the pit at her. “Do I look stupid? I’m not letting you free to play this out to your advantage. We do this together or not at all.”

“So be it.” A ghost of a smile played across her lips. Logan got the impression that his response was not unexpected. “However, we cannot simply walk you into the city. Unmarked as you are and without more wealth and a more impressive harem to show, you would only appear weak and invite attack. We will need to get you to the attention, and protection, of the Prince before that happens.”

“Unmarked?” he asked. “Explain.”

Seralla touched her right cheek. “Every damned soul and lesser demon brought into a Master’s service is branded here with that owner’s insignia. It establishes ownership and acts as a form of protection against other demons making a claim on that servant. For one granted the rare honor of joining the Master’s harem, they receive a similar mark on the left side to indicate their higher status.”

“Branded,” Logan repeated in a flat voice. “Like livestock.”

“I know not what “livestock” is, but yes, they are branded.”

Logan nodded. “You keep using the word “harem”. What exactly does that word mean to you?”

The Succubus looked at him with a strange and curious expression. Inwardly, Logan cursed at himself for revealing the depths of his ignorance but it was the only way to learn what he did not know. A dangerous game to play but necessary nonetheless.

“To me?” the demon considered the question. “It means power and privilege, of course. To judge the relative strength and importance of anyone in Hell, you have only to observe the wealth they carry upon their person and the size and prestige of their harem.”

“How is one marked with a harem brand different from a servant? Both are property of the Master, are they not?”

“Yes and no,” Seralla answered. “Yes, both are taken by and bound by the right of claiming. However, unlike servants, recruiting someone into a harem cannot be forced. That bond can only be created with one willing to join- as you have already experienced for yourself. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement. The Master gains prestige and the one invited gains the protection of one strong enough to keep them safe, secure, and… satisfied.”

Logan struggled to keep his face unreadable as the implications of her words sank in. As you have already experienced for yourself. He looked over at Beauty and Karen where they sat and watched the exchange with worried expressions.

Is that what she thinks is happening here? he wondered.

Seralla shook her head in mild astonishment. “Though you are taking a very foolish risk by not placing your Master’s mark on your harem. Still, as poor and weak as you are, I suppose it wouldn’t make any difference if someone stronger decided to take them from you.”

He turned his attention back to the captive demon. “Not that weak, sweetheart. I did take you down, and you are not the first.” A strange thought crossed his mind as he said it. “This “right of claiming” you mentioned… Since I won and you lost, does mean I can now claim you into my service?”

To his astonishment, Seralla scowled at him but offered no protest.

“Interesting,” he said. “Let’s put a pin in that one for now and talk more about getting into the city. If I can’t walk in, then what do you suggest?”

She looked up at him with a gleam in her purple eyes. “The simplest solution would be to mark you as owned.”

“Not happening.”

“Hmm, no I thought not,” she smiled. “Still, it need not be a permanent brand. The mark can be faked as a new brand with a shallow cut and ash from your fire. It won’t pass a close examination but would suffice for a casual look if you know where to go and where to avoid.”

“And if we do not go with a brand? What then?”

The demon shrugged in a way that made it difficult to ignore the way her naked anatomy moved. The knowing look in her eyes was clear evidence that she knew exactly what effect it was intended to have. “Without a brand or sufficient status of your own, you and your females would be considered unclaimed. Another demon could attempt to take you from me. In my wounded state, I could do little to stop them.”

“I could stop them,” he replied.

“Perhaps you could, but what then? A human attacking a demon in the city streets would be inconceivable. The entire city of Gomorrah would rouse to hunt you down, and me as well for allowing it to happen.”

“Noted,” Logan grunted. “Ok, let’s say we get into the city unchallenged. How do we get in to see the Prince?”

“I do not know,” the demon frowned. “But I believe I know one who does. Asmodeus has a servant that, it is said, carries great favor with him. One that I have heard he went to great lengths to acquire for his harem. She is an ancient soul by the name of Cleopatra. According to her reputation, she is nearly as ambitious as her Master. Through her, we may find a way to circumvent the usual barriers for an audience with the Prince.”

Logan blinked at her. “Cleopatra? As in the queen of Egypt?”

“The very same,” the demon nodded.

“Wow,” he muttered. The idea of meeting the most famous Egyptian queen that had ever lived was a wild idea. So too, were the implications of her presence in Hell. Here again was another apparent contradiction. An ancient queen of a people that worshiped ancient gods such as Ra and Anubis long before the birth of Christianity, and yet condemned to Christian Hell. How? Why?

“As I said, she is a prized servant with no small degree of power and privilege of her own, even her own small harem." Seralla offered a sly smile. "As will you, if Asmodeus accepts you into his service.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’re not there yet.” He blew on the fragile flame until it grew and began to prep the latest kill for cooking. “Hungry?”

“Starving.” She gave him a slow, sensual smile of invitation, writhing, and presenting her body for his inspection. “But not for that sad carcass you are attempting to cook.”

“Forget I asked.” Logan shook his head. “Let’s take a step back. How is your old Master going to react to this power play?”

Seralla shrugged and offered an evil grin. “She will be furious, of course, but if we succeed she will have no choice but to accept the new power dynamic. If we fail, her vengeance will be swift and brutal.” The demon shrugged. “Such is the price of ambition.”

“I don’t like having enemies at my back.”

Her eyes glittered with excitement. “Do you propose we eliminate her? What a delicious idea! You are remarkably devious for a human.”

“I’m sure you mean that as a compliment,” Logan sighed. “I don’t know. Is this possible? Tell me more about this Baroness Graveek. Who is she? Where is she?”

The Succubus nodded. “Graveek is of only minor importance in the politics of Hell but she has made a fortune in the training and trade of sex slaves. Her castle is here in the Waste. It is from there that hunters such as Gorn and I are sent out to hunt for new stock.”

“Castle, huh?” Logan scratched at his beard. “Sounds like a tough nut to crack without an army. How many defend this castle?”

“There were five demons sworn to her service.” She smiled. “Now there are three. Beyond that, she keeps twenty human guards, ten servants, and a bodyguard harem of six.”

“That’s not many,” Logan mused.

“She considers herself politically protected against attack from other demons and rightly fears to have too many humans around with weapons for fear they may turn them on her.” The Succubus chuckled. “A potential weakness that might be exploited.”

“Any other demon settlements around between here and the city?”

She waved the question off as unimportant. “There are many who prefer to live as the Baroness does, away from the city and politics of Hell, alone or in small encampments and such.” She eyed the pile of their gathered loot. “But unlike Graveek, they are weak and poor, little more than uncivilized animals scratching at the dirt, as you have already learned for yourself with such pitiful gains.”

The demon gave him an appreciative look. “Still, it is a most impressive effort, given what little you have had to work with,” the demon purred in a silken tone.

*****

Karen watched the interrogation happen through a fog of disbelief. She watched the captured Succubus tempt with poisonous charms and veiled promises. It made no sense to her. Did they not understand the danger? Perhaps not to Beauty. She was also a demon. She couldn't possibly understand. But Logan…

Karen could make no sense of the man. There was no fear in his eyes, no weight of hopelessness dragging at his shoulders. He spoke with such determination and walked as if the world must yield to him and not the other way around. He seemed too good to be true, a true miracle in this realm of endless suffering.

At least at first. Now, as she watched him scheme and plan, she did not know what to think.

He had rescued her from one demon, with the help of another demon that he had somehow befriended, which was, in itself, impossible. Later he provided shelter and even food. All without asking for or expecting anything in return except her thoughts and observations.

Why?

Then, when confronted by the possibility of discovery by a flying demon, rather than hide as any reasonable human soul would, he had declared his intention to fight back, to hunt the hunter. It was insanity!

And it would seem Logan’s insanity was contagious because somehow, he had talked her into trying to lure the demon out of the sky- on purpose! Who would do such a thing? Apparently it seemed, she would. Karen blamed such a foolish decision on his kind smile and big, green eyes.

It was the most terrifying thing she could ever remember doing, but she had done it. Today terror did not send her scurrying into cover. Today she had fought back against her infernal oppressors, and won!

That was what Logan did to her when he was around. Somehow, he made the impossible… possible, and in the process of doing so, cracked the darkness of her despair, letting in a single, thin ray of light. Not enough that she dared to call it hope, not yet. Karen had known too much pain, for too long, to consider anything so optimistic. But at least enough for a small voice to whisper questions in the darkness of her soul.

Was hope possible? Was there potentially an end to endless suffering?

So many contradictions. So many impossible possibilities when Logan was near, with his sweet smile and broad shoulders. It was all so wondrous and terrifying. Wondrous because she had never imagined feeling this way. Terrifying because this was Hell, and anything that tasted of joy could not long survive.

“Still, it is a most impressive effort, given what little you have had to work with.” Karen listened to the demon purr at him in a tone that dripped with false praise.

Cold panic and hot anger ran through Karen. Anger that the creature would think Logan so stupid as to believe her. Panic that he might.

Only hours ago, she would have thought her fears to be foolish. That Logan was too clever to fall victim to poisoned promises. That confidence was now beginning to crack. Now, as she sat and listened to talk of ambition and betrayal, that terror and sense of doom had returned.

Was his kindness a lie? Was she a convenience, a tool to be used and discarded on the altar of ambition?

Karen watched the evil bitch writhe and tempt him with her naked body, feeling scared and disgusted that he might fall prey to the demon’s charms, and to her lies.

“Well, thank you very much.” Karen heard him say to the demon and felt despair.

No, no! she silently pleaded. Don’t listen to her lies!

The evil creature looked at him, confused. “For what?” she asked.

Logan picked up the knife he had been using to cut meat and looked into her purple eyes. “For telling me everything I need to know, you psychotic twat. If you have anything else to share that might save your miserable life, then now is the time to speak up or “forever hold your peace”, as it were. Otherwise, we’re done here.”

Yes! Karen thought with fierce joy. Yes! You’re not calling the shots anymore, you evil bitch.

“What?” the demon scowled at him, wide-eyed. “But our deal…”

“Yeah, we didn’t make a deal. I implied that we might have a deal and you bought it, ya greedy bitch. Getting played sucks, don’t it?” He went on in a hard, merciless voice. “Try again. Last chance. Last dance.”

“No,” the demon snarled and squirmed in fear. “You need me.”

“Not anymore,” he replied.

Except the beast wasn't exactly squirming, was she? Was it another attempted seduction? No, her movements were too subtle and too lacking in grace for that. The demon almost seemed to be twitching, or pulling…

Karen's eyes went wide. "Logan, watch out!"

The demon, suddenly free of her restraints, jumped forward, slashing at him. Logan cursed in surprise, fell back, and fell over in his abrupt haste to get away. Claws narrowly missed. The tail did not. Whip-like, it cracked across Logan's face as the demon spun about.

Beauty tackled the Succubus a heartbeat later, and they fought like angry tigers, but her grip was tenuous. The enemy demon had the element of surprise on her side and managed to shake Beauty off. Seralla gave no thought to either Beauty or Karen. Her murderous gaze was set on Logan as he struggled to rise to his feet. His dagger lay many feet away. It might as well have been miles.

Beauty dove on her again, driving them both to the ground in a brutal tangle of claws, wings, and savagery. Karen watched as one demon tried to kill her friend, and another fought to save him. The impossible made possible, all over again.

Fear washed over Karen. Not fear for herself, not even for Logan. It was the terror of sudden comprehension, knowing that if Logan died, she would once again, and forever after, be alone. Desperation, hot and wild, burned the fear away.

Karen would later not remember reaching for and feeling the weight of Logan's dagger in her fist. She would not recall charging forward, dagger held high, and a scream of berserk rage on her lips.

What she would remember is how the blade felt stabbing through flesh and scraping past bone, again and again. Watching the light fade out of those evil, purple eyes. More than anything, she would not forget that moment of fierce triumph when she fought back and was a victim no more.