Hell's Kitty (Welcome To Hell) (8 page)

Jenny awoke to a dull throb in her head.
Oh no, don’t tell me I got drunk on seaweed wine again. What happened to my vow the last time to never touch a drop again?

Except, now that she thought on it, she’d not drank. On the contrary, the last thing she recalled was arguing with her aunts.
Before she could muddle through her dizzy thoughts, which weren’t aided by the rocking room, Felipe’s anxious expression appear in front of hers.

“What happened?” she asked
.

“We’re on a yacht bound for Hell.”

“A yacht? But how?”

“
Thelxiope.”

And that one word said it all.

With her fingers, she pressed the bump on her noggin and growled, “Aunt Thelxy!” She should have known right away who to blame. It wouldn’t be the first time her aunt solved a problem in this fashion.

But this was the first time Jenny
had regained consciousness to find herself on a boat sailing to who knew where. She recognized the rocking motion and subtle purr of an engine.

Why those conniving witches.
They’d kidnapped her. Kind of. Maybe pirated was more accurate given the situation.

Clambering to her feet,
she noted someone had bathed and dressed her during her forced siesta. She now wore a slim-fitting sweater, canvas slacks but no shoes—or a bra or underwear.
Must have been Aunt Raidne.
She thought undergarments were a waste of fabric unless worn for seduction.

“Where are you going?” Felipe asked.

“To talk with my aunt.”

“Shouldn’t you rest a while
longer. She hit you pretty hard.”

“I’ll be fine,” she grumbled, especially once the three pain killers she found in the cabinet and dry swallowed kicked in.

The ache in her head abated, leaving her more alert. In need of answers, and maybe a little venting, Jenny made her way to the upper deck, the brisk, damp breeze whipping her greenish strands around her face as whoever piloted cut through the agitated waves. Above deck, the roll of the ship was more noticeable, and Jenny adopted a loose-legged saunter as she made her way to the captain’s cockpit. What a surprise. Aunt Molpe steered the boat and tossed her a saucy grin.

“Ahoy there, little mate.
Have a nice nap?”

“Concussions aren’t restful.”

“But they can be useful when dealing with stubborn girls.”

“
It’s not stubborn to have an opinion.”

“It is when it’s the wrong one.”

“I can’t believe you went along with this,” Jenny grumbled. “You know I didn’t want to leave.”

“Yes, but in this instance, Thelxy was right. You had to go. If the mermaids and their servants were to come after us in full force, we’d never be able to protect you.
Then where would you be?”

“S
o instead of seeing me possibly fed to the fish, you left your sisters undermanned by removing not only me but yourself from the defense of the isle.”

A shrug.
“More like saved them. With you gone, the chance of attack drops drastically is our theory, and they won’t be undermanned for long. We’ve got our resources, and they’re being called in.”

“Then why not let me stay
?”

Molpe’s usually cheerful mien sobered.
“Because staying means they win. Someone, or many someones, don’t want you to go see Lucifer.”

“So you just had to do the opposite.” Jenny rolled her eyes.

“Of course we did,” was Molpe’s unapologetic reply. “That and we couldn’t let the kitty return empty-handed, not when it was obvious you’d both taken such a shine to each other.”

“Did not.”

“Oh please, we’re not blind or dead. We know lust when we see it. About time, if you ask me, that you found someone who gets your motor running.”

“Just because he’s attractive isn’t a reason for me to go off with him.”
Or screw him. Okay, maybe having sex with him would be good for her, but still. They were talking about a life-altering event. Leaving home, especially now, seemed, well, crazy. Dangerous. Adventurous. And fun. Sigh. She hated it when her aunts were right.

Aunt Molpe seemed to have taken quite a shine to the hellcat.
“Our new friend, Felipe, is not just attractive. He’s brave. Intelligent. And, in case you haven’t noticed, he can listen to you without jumping off a cliff.”

True.
Arguing any further was pointless. Like it or not, ready or not, Jenny was getting shoved out of the nest for the unknown. Despite herself, Jenny couldn’t deny excitement at finally getting a chance to leave the isle. Discovery awaited. New shores. New people. A new life…

“So we’re heading to Hell?”

“Indeed we are. We’ve been following the coastline for the outer ring for the past hour.”

“And the Styx monsters are behaving
?”

“Of course they are. They only prevented you from leaving before at our behest.”

“Well, that’s good to know because, otherwise, I might be kind of worried about
that
.” Just as Jenny pointed to a shadowy shape paralleling the vessel underwater, the boat lurched.

The steering column
jolted, and Molpe clung to it, straining to keep it straight. She righted it, but how long they would stay that way would depend on the humps breaking the surface of the water, the undulating shapes racing alongside them, and without much care for the hapless vessel they rocked.

“
What are they doing?” Jenny asked. A valid question given a huge, barnacle-covered head rose from the frothy waters and peered at them through a gigantic lidless eye. Considering it was almost as big as she was, she thought she had a right to shiver.

A
nother sign that signified they might be in trouble, carefree Molpe frowned. “I’m not sure what they’re up to. This isn’t behavior I’m used to seeing from them, but, if I were to guess, given their numbers and the fact the predators are ignoring possible meals and they’re all going in the same direction, I’d say they’re fleeing.”

The observation made Jenny’s eyes widen.
“Fleeing? What the heck makes a giant sea serpent swim away?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,
’cause for once it isn’t me,” Felipe announced as he entered the now much smaller cockpit, his large masculine presence overwhelming the space. And he would steal all the oxygen too by dropping a chaste—but toe-curling—kiss on her lips. “Hello again, beautiful. Nice to see you’ve recovered from your impromptu nap.”

“Um, hi.”
More speech wasn’t happening, not until the world stopped tilting. Not likely to happen soon, given the thumps and bumps hammering the yacht from both sides as the water around them erupted with the frantic jump and dive of fish, the undulation of serpents, and the occasional jagged fin.

“What in Neptune’s beard is going on?” Molpe muttered under her breath as she struggled to keep the yacht from capsizing in a suddenly very busy part of the Styx.

Jenny craned to peer out the window, the orange light of dawn, and Hell’s natural ambiance, providing a glow to see by. “Um, Aunt, is it me, or are those storm clouds behind us?”

“A storm, at this time of the year?” Molpe gestured for her to grab the controls and went out on deck to take a peek.

She returned quickly with ashen cheeks and practically hip checked Jenny out of the way. “Hold on, children. We need to get out of here.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“That’s not a natural storm.”

“
Is it weather witches fucking around?” Felipe asked.

“I wish. That we could have handled.
But witches don’t have the power to cause what I saw. A cyclone is brewing behind us. We need to try and outrun it and make it to shore before it catches us.”

“
A cyclone, here on the river?” Jenny frowned. “I thought those only happened at sea.”

“They do
, which means this one isn’t natural.” Grim-faced, Molpe pushed the throttle as far as it would go, the burst of speed causing them all to stagger before catching their balance, a balance that found Jenny leaning against a rock-hard body.

“You said you know how to swim?” Felipe asked, his warm breath right by her ear.

“Of course. I just can’t breathe underwater.”

“Good.”

“Why do you ask?”

However, she didn’t need to hear his reply to realize they weren’t going to make it to shore before the fast
-moving cyclone hit them. The waves grew choppier and choppier, rocking the boat in a sickening fashion from side to side. Molpe did her best to steer, but the strain showed on her face in the tense line of her lips and the rarely seen creases of stress around her eyes and forehead.

“We’re not going to
hit the beach before the storm hits us,” she muttered. “Grab a life vest and buckle in, children. Looks like we’re going for a dip.”

As they scrambled to attire themselves in the bright orange safety devices
that the sirens kept on board, Jenny couldn’t help but notice Felipe’s ashen face.

“Are you scared?”

Most men would have probably lied, or so her aunts’ lessons had taught her, but Felipe was a never-ending surprise. “I hate water,” was his grudging admission. “Or at least the whole submerging myself in it part. It’s not natural.”

“And yet you shower.”

“Quickly, and I prefer to think of that more like rain which I can easily step out of. Swimming, though, means sinking into a whole bunch of it at once, and I hate it.”

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Molpe taunted.

Felipe’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “But I am a pussy, and my pussy doesn’t like to get wet!”

Jenny couldn’t have said what prompted her to say it
, but the look on his face was worth it. “Funny you should say that because, since I met you, my pussy’s never been wetter. And might I add, I quite enjoy it.”

Forget a reply
. She had only a moment to enjoy his dropped jaw before the storm hit. The boat tilted and tilted some more. But this time, it’s didn’t bob back upright. It capsized in the water, sending them tumbling into the warm waters of the Styx, where up and down, surface and bottom got mixed around.

Realiz
ing that fighting the waves and currents would tax her strength more than it was worth, Jenny relaxed. Besides, she wore a life jacket. It knew better than her how to find the surface. She floated underwater, arms and legs spread a la starfish, letting the river take her where it would. Hopefully to shore where most waves tended to land.

A hard knock to her arm had her opening her eyes, and despite the
cloudy murk, she caught the vague glimpse of flesh. Waving hands. Wide white panicked eyes.

Felipe!

She managed to clasp her fingers around his, forcing him to face her underwater, bringing them close, trying to instill some of her calm to the agitated cat. But in his angst, he’d used up much of his air. His eyes bulged, and she could see the strain as he fought not to breathe in the deadly water.

Drawing him near, she pressed her mouth to his, sealed them together, and blew. It took him but a moment to grasp what she did. He sucked in, and while it didn’t ease the tension she felt trembling through his frame, it did stem some of his panic.

A strong surge propelled them, and for a moment, their heads broke the surface. She drew in a deep breath and smiled approvingly at Felipe as he took in one of his own. Their oxygenated reprieve lasted but a moment before another wave rolled over them, drawing them under again. But at least now he wasn’t freaking out and using up his oxygen. Fingers and eyes locked, they held their breath, blowing out little bubbles, doing their best to remain alive until they had a chance to suck in a lungful.

How long they drifted, flotsam caught in a
wild, unnatural storm, she couldn’t tell. Several more times, she had to give Felipe air, the press of their lips an intimate act which didn’t arouse— how could it given the circumstances?—but yet, it still forged a bond between them. A bond of life over death. A bond of trust. Odd how the danger they were in, more than any words, could create such a solid thread.

When her feet first dragged along the pebbled bottom, she wondered if she imagined it. It seemed they’d bobbed along in weightless space for an
eternity. A wave drew them up, not long enough for her to truly note anything, but when it dropped, again she hit a solid surface, and Felipe noted it as well. The fingers laced with hers tightened, and he pushed himself to stand, only to get knocked down by the next swell. However, as the water grew shallow, he managed to keep to his feet, even steady her on her own.

B
edraggled, exhausted, and more shriveled than any raisin left in the sun, they made it to shore and collapsed. Breathing heavy, enjoying the brimstone-laced air, the hard surface, and the lack of rocking, Jenny and Felipe took a moment to appreciate having survived.

Or at least she did. The cat
, however, complained. “Ugh. That is the last time I ever go sailing.”