Chapter Two

I hear movement about the room but yet I can't be bothered to respond to it. I snuggle deeper in the covers, moaning in its comfort. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the image of a dude offering 'dream me' a million dollars to babysit some kid and then 'dream me' accepting it because, duh, I'm not stupid. But then...

I fly up, my eyes wide taking in my surroundings.

I feel the bed dip and my eyes snap to Wrath. He's tying the laces of his combat boots at the edge, he glances at me behind him. "Great, you're awake. We have a lot to do."

I don't know where I suddenly got the energy from but I was on the other side of the room with an alarm clock poised to strike. I narrow my eyes at him, "Where the hell did you take me?"

He gives me an annoyed look. "Put the clock down before you hurt yourself."

I didn't waste any time, I throw the clock at him. He sees it coming and ducks. It crashes against the wall behind him but I'm already grabbing the remote in the next second. I throw it at him and it hit him square in the chest.

He didn't even flinch.

"Anything else," he drawled.

I look around the room. Everything was dark, the curtains that stood ramrod straight at the entry to the balcony. You'd expect it to be blowing but no it's as if there was no wind... no air. There was a large tv facing the bed. A huge walk-in closet that was opened and I could see an array of dark suits like the one he wore in the club. There was a door that leads to—I'm guessing the bathroom and another to the exit, probably. 

The room echoed the type of man he was, dark and expensive.

I spotted the tv and he snarled. "Don't even think about it."

I grit my teeth and fold my arms over my chest instead. I needed to appear strong in front of him or at least some semblance of it. I refuse to be weak.

"Where am I?"

"Isn't it obvious," he said. "You're in Los Angelos."

I narrow my eyes. This isn't Los Angelos. 

I went to the balcony. 

I was right, there was no wind and instead of the clear blue sky I was used to, it was a raging mixture of orange, red, and dark purple.

Down below the balcony, instead of the bustling streets and Hollywood lights, I was used to, the floor was made of dry, jagged rocks and empty wasteland. Somewhere I could see movement. Oddly shaped and spikey creatures slithering across the decimated land. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. The pungent smell of sulfur in the air wrapped around my throat like a manacle, threatening to suffocate me. Through the darkness, I could hear voices—distant wails followed by mocking laughter somewhere off in the distance.

I rush back into the room, my breath coming out harshly. Wrath smirked from his position on the bed and I turned my horrified eyes on him. "This isn't Los Angeles. Where the hell am I?"

"You just said it."

My eyebrows furrow "W-What?"

"Welcome to Hell, Dovey." He grinned happily while my mind threatened to combust.

No, no. It can't be...

It doesn't make any sense.

My heart stopped as something occurred to me.

"Am I dead?"

"If you were you wouldn't be much use to me now, would you?" He said. 

Is that annoyance I'm detecting? No, he have no right to be annoyed. I'm the one that's been kidnapped. "When we made our bargain, it linked your soul here. Which is how I could bring you here without trouble. Only when the bargain is met would your soul be untethered to this place and you'll get to go back to your boring ass life, getting jumped in dingy bathrooms of run-down strip clubs."

Yup, I'm working for a Loney Bird.

I shake my head. "You need to take me back home now and possibly see a psychiatrist because you're obviously fucked in the head."

Wrath rolls his eyes. "You humans always act like this. You're all insane."

"I'm Insane!" I yell out, hysterically. I was coming unhinged and Wrath had front row seats. "You're the fucking psychopath who kidnapped me, which by the way was never part of the deal, buddy." I point an accusive finger in his face and he looks at it in disinterest. "And I'm not the one whose sprouting bullshit about me being in Hell and what kind of name is Wrath anyhow. I've heard better names in jail and I had a cellmate named Cocoapuffs."

Wrath throws back his head and laughs. The sound ricochets off the walls and sends shivers up my spine. Not the good kind. The kind that tells you something bad was about to happen. "He's going to like you." Is all he says before he disappears into the closet. Soon he comes back out with a black material in his hand. He flings it to me and it smacks me dab in my face.

"What is this?"

He points at it. "That is what you're going to be wearing when you meet him."

"Who?"

He rolls his eyes again. "I'm honestly getting sick of all your questions. Just put the damn dress on." His hand is curled around the doorknob but before he leaves he looks back at me again. "I'm going to send someone in to help you get dressed. Then, you're going to meet the very reason I'm paying you a fortune to take care of.  My life literally rests in your hands, Dovey, try not to fuck it up." He winks mockingly and leaves through the door.

I want to scream. I want to do a lot of things. My lip trembles but I don't cry. If my father was here he'd tell me that crying is for wimps and he raised no wimp. That philosophy was the foundation of our strained relationship. He told me not to cry, so I didn't. He told me not to feel anymore, so I didn't. I bottled up all my emotions and gave none away. But sometimes... when I'm alone and they become too much I let them out. But those times are as rare as my smile.

So I sit on the floor, my knees to my chest, and let my brain catch up with everything.

I've been kidnapped. 

I'm presumably in Hell.

And I may have made the worst mistake of my life. 

But can I just tell Wrath the deal is off? 

He seemed like he won't be too kind to that idea. 

But fuck him, I have that right, right?

I swipe a hand over my face and groan out in frustration just as the door opens and a petite girl flounces into the room. I fly up, gingerly wiping any traces of sadness from my face.

It's the girl Wrath said will help me get dressed. Like I need help getting into my clothes, I'm not five thank you very much.

I"Listen I don't need help getting dressed. In fact, I won't be going. Tell Wrath that the deal is off." The girl continues to pile makeup products on the vanity as if I haven't spoken. My eyebrows furrowed and I went to her. "Hey girl, I—" I turn her to me and gasp. 

Her eyes were completely glassed over and she watched me with a dazed look on her face as if she was dream-walking and hadn't realized it.

I take her by the shoulders and shake her. "Hey! Snap out of it!" But no amount of shaking or yelling would wake her.

My hands fall limply to my sides. 

What is going on with this girl? Is she high? I've seen drugs do some wicked things to people but nothing like this. 

"Wrath sent me to help you get dress. Would you mind getting in the shower, Miss," the girl says in a light dreamy voice.

So she can hear me... then what's with the glassed eyes? I shake my head nonetheless. "No, you don't need to. I'm not going— WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

The girl suddenly grabs a blade from off the vanity and without a word, drags it against the smooth flesh of her wrist. I lunge for her but she backs away shaking her head. "What are you doing!" 

"He told me if you refuse, I have to cut myself," She says in that same dazed tone.

"You don't have to listen to him, he's a psychopath. "I take a slow step towards her. "Look, let me help you."

She shakes her head and continues to slice her wrist. The blood slips down her pale wrist and falls on the dark-wooded floors. "I have no choice."

"What? Whatever he did to you, I can help. Just put the blade down."

There are tears streaming down her cheeks but she doesn't stop. She can't stop.

"Okay, fine. You can help me get dressed!" As soon as the words leave my mouth, it's the antidote to the poison. It's like she comes out of a trance. The blade falls to the ground with a clink and she comes over to me starry-eyed again.

"Into the shower, Miss." My chest is falling fast. 

What just happened?

Vibrating with fear, I strip slowly, keeping an eye on her as I head to the shower.

I shower with rose-scented body wash and I quickly change falling into the black dress Wrath flung my way. It was tight as fuck. The dress left nothing to the imagination. It hung from my shoulders with thin straps, exposing all and every part of my breasts. 

At least my nipples won't be coming out for the party. 

The dress reaches my ankles but don't get it twisted—There's nothing modest about this dress at all. Two slits form at the front, exposing the entirety of my legs and hips. I felt like a lamb being dressed up for the slaughter.

When I exit the shower, the girl is there, in the same position I left her.

I  settle in front of the vanity. The same as before, she doesn't react at all. 

She pulls the band out of my hair, indifferent to the blood staining her wrist and the wounds that I'm sure should be stinging. It's like she's a robot or something, or at least unaware of her actions somehow.

I watch her in the mirror as she styles my hair and does my makeup. My hair falls down my back in white-blonde curls and I'm wearing more makeup than I usually do for my shows. My eyes are dark and bold highlighting my best and most strange asset. My gold eyes. 

I look mysterious and sexy and if it weren't for the circumstances I would've admired it.

When she is finished she nods at me and leaves and to my surprise, Wrath is leaning up against the door.

Where did he come from?

His eyes drink me in and a small smirk finds its way on his lips. "That's more like it. Theresa did a hell of a good job, don't up think?"

I glared at him. "What did you do to that girl?"

He cocks his head to the side and gives me a confused look. 

"Did you drug her?"

His eyes light up in realization and he waves a hand dismissively. "Just a little repercussion in case you were being difficult and from the looks of my floors, it was necessary."

This guy is sick.

"You brainwashed her into hurting herself!"

He stuck his hands into his pockets, looking at me as if he couldn't believe I was this stupid. "It's called a Glamour."

"Why would you do that?"

He was in front of me before I could blink. His demanding presence sank into my bones and coaxed me to him. He leered over me, his eyes dark causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin at the sheer wickedness I saw reflected in them. "Because I can, Dovey," he said, but I felt it like a whisper across my jaw. "I love seeing your kind on your knees. I love seeing you look at me the way you do right now, with fear, with awe."

"With hate," I spat.

"No, baby. That's what you want," His eyes trace the curve of my lips. "You wish you could hate me but the truth is you find me dangerously enthralling, admit it."

"Go to hell."

He chuckled, the sound lacking humour. "It's a good thing we're already here then."