Happily Ever Awkward (The H.E.A. Files, #1)(15)

The princess squinted and blinked several times, trying to get her bearings, but Seeboth allowed her no time for such frivolities. Taking her hand firmly but gently, he escorted her down a narrow flight of stairs into the hold. The stairs ended abruptly at a heavy iron door that was reinforced with rusty strips of metal and studded with great, spiked rivets that looked like the teeth of some monstrous beast. It was quite frightening.

Princess Luscious gasped.

Not because of the door, though.

Because of the thing standing beside the door.

It was a demonic Terror.





The use of the capitalized word “Terror” in this case is not an extravagant hyperbole, but a statement of fact. The dark wizard Seeboth, Lord of Shadows, had summoned this creature from a race of Demons known as The Terrors and had bound it to serve as his henchman.

So terrible were The Terrors that even the The before their name was too terrible a The for a mere the to communicate the horrible The-ness of it all.





Though the Terror stood no taller than Princess Luscious, its presence caused her to feel incredibly small. The beast had skin like beef jerky and a wrinkled face like a skull shoved inside a prune. Armed with claws, saw-blade fangs, and reflexes like a whip-crack, the sense of danger he radiated surrounded him like bad cologne. Skin-tight black leather encased his body, and four huge brass buckles gleamed across his leather-plated chest.

“Um… what is that?” Princess Luscious asked.

The only response she received was a harsh shove as the Demon kicked open the iron door and launched her into the cell beyond. With a KRANG, he closed and locked the door behind her.

Seeboth glared at the Demon.

The Demon glared at Seeboth.

After a long moment, the creature finally spoke.

“My lord… you were brilliant!”

Seeboth instantly relaxed. One could see the tension release from his shoulders, even though they were hidden beneath his padded cowl, and he allowed himself a barely perceptible sigh.

The Demon continued, “I watched the entire episode from the mirror. Sheer artistry!”

“You honestly think so, Demog?” Seeboth asked. “I was somewhat concerned I’d overdone it. The whole ‘arms’ thing?”

Seeboth flared about and, with one wicked sweep of his hand, threw back his hood to finally reveal his face: a bit tired-looking for forty years old, but handsome for an evil sorcerer.

“Not at all, my lord,” Demog said, shaking the ugly knob of his head. “Power such as yours demands abuse.”

“I made a good impression, then?”

“Of a certainty.”

“I hope so.” Seeboth sighed. “First impressions are so terribly important when defining a working relationship.”





On the other side of the iron door, Princess Luscious gleamed like a lily in the midst of a cesspool. Her cell was cramped. A grimy bench stretched along one wall, and a rack of shelves stocked with an extensive collection of spider webs stretched along another. The air smelled of mildew and rotting fish — at least she hoped it was rotting fish — and a strange purple mold grew across the walls and seemed to growl whenever she drew near. She stopped drawing near and decided to remain standing in the center of the room.

She also decided she didn’t like this anymore. “Excuse me!” she called, turning toward the door. “I don’t think this is working out—”

But the words froze in her throat as the blood froze in her veins.

A scruffy rat had emerged from a crack in the wall. All mangy hair and beady eyes, his long pink tail poked through a slit in the tattered black longcoat he wore. The rat was not nearly so cute as Squeaker and his dancing mouse friends back at the castle. Luscious had to admit she wished those mice were here, dancing with her right now. She’d failed to realize that taking a walk on the dark side would expose her to a lower class of rodents.

The rat’s name was Rupert, and he looked her up and down as if he might devour her.

Princess Luscious screamed and leaped onto the bench.

The purple moss growled at her.

She screamed again and jumped down.

Rupert leered at her.

She screamed yet again and leaped back up.

It was going to be a long night.





Elsewhere on the Shadowship there existed an even more dismal place than Princess Luscious’ exceedingly dismal cell.

Seeboth’s private cabin.

Decorated in nothing but bleaks and blacks, the windowless cabin could best be described as oppressive and brooding. Had it been a teenager, it would have written depressing, angst-ridden poetry about the pointless emptiness of life and told its parents they just didn’t understand. The space was joyless, cheerless, and utterly hopeless — except for the thirteen cocker spaniel puppies frolicking on the floor.

Seeboth kicked open the hatch and greeted the jumble of dogs. “Hello babies, did you miss Daddy? Come here, Gangrene, come on.”

He pulled several bones — suspiciously human in nature — from a jar and tossed them to the puppies. While the spaniels eagerly tumbled over each other to get at the treats, Seeboth pointed his magic finger at a wide mirror on the wall. The glass fritzed to life.

Jeremy the Zombie appeared, reflected from the other side.

“We have the princess,” Seeboth said. “Is the altar prepared for the sacrifice?”