From Hell Read Free

me, knowing not very many of them would be nice. On
the other hand, there were a hell of a lot of things I thought of
Scarlett, the vast majority of which ended up with her in a muzzle,
hogtied, and screaming the Almighty’s name in glorious
rapture.
    Tall and lithe, Scarlett
was every demon’s wet dream, with me being no exception. It didn’t
matter we were cousins. Growing up in Hell, a guy learned pretty
quickly to take what pleasures he could wherever he could, the
more sinful the
better. This ranked up there nicely with coveting thy neighbor and
carnal affairs with somebody else’s goat.
    And while Scarlett was dressed in
loose fitting breeches and a shirt she’d tucked into her thick
leather belt, there was no hiding the curves God had given her. She
was an angel, and I mean that literally; one of God’s chosen. She
made her home in Heaven alongside the rest of the Choir. She had
wings and everything; well, they were a psychic manifestation of
her power, but they were still wings.
    “ My face is up here,” she
said, putting her hand in front of her chest and pointing
upward.
    I sighed and followed her finger. The
green seas of her eyes glared at me. They were very expressive when
she was angry, which was most of the time I was around.
    “ What are you doing
here?”
    “ I was sent to find a
killer.” Her eyes narrowed, her gaze trailing from my feet back to
my face in a casual sweep. Fingers twitched near the twin, short
blades she wore at her hips. “How fortunate to have found one so
soon.”
    “ Whoa there, Sherlock. It
seems your detective skills could use some sharpening.” It wasn’t
the first time Scarlett and I had duked it out over some stupid
misunderstanding, and I didn’t figure it would be the last, so I
set my feet just in case she came at me. When it came to emotional
overreaction, Scarlett made me look like the mature one. “Lucifer
sent me to find the killer, too.”
    “ I’m supposed to believe
our dear uncle has nothing to do with any of this?” Scarlett shook
her head. “I can’t believe that, Frank. The butcher signed one of
his letters ‘From Hell.’”
    “ And you think Lucifer
would attach his name to something as brazen as these murders?” I
could tell by the look on her face, she did. It’s a good thing
she’s pretty. “Seriously, woman, Hell isn’t behind any of this. I
promise that.”
    “ You promise? Oh, okay.
Our mistake.” Scarlett shrugged and turned away, her hair trailing
her like a wild mane. I stared at her for a moment, one eyebrow
raised, too stunned to even think about checking out her ass before
she spun back around. She chuckled.
    “ Of course you’re not
leaving.” I sighed. What had started as an annoying quest for a
killer had degenerated into a pissing match between Heaven and Hell
with me getting the golden end of the shaft. “Look, Scarlett, if
you’re gonna be elbow-deep up my ass, we need to set some rules
down.”
    “ First off, ewwww.” Her
upper lip peeled back in a disgusted sneer. “Second, Metatron sent
me here to find out what Hell has to do with this Ripper and to ensure the
killings end. I don’t take orders from you and we aren’t setting
terms as to m y
mission.”
    “ I don’t expect you to
take orders, but we can’t just go stomping across London, going
door-to-door looking for Jack the fucking Ripper or whatever the
hell the guy wants to be called.” I mimed knocking. “Pardon me,
ma’am, but have you seen a dashing murderer here about lately?
Loves romance, candlelight dinners, late night strolls, and cutting
women’s uteri out.”
    Scarlett shivered, crossing her arms
to hide it. “That’s not funny, Frank.”
    “ It’s not meant to be.” I
squeezed the bridge of my nose in hopes of staving off the headache
that always seemed to accompany Scarlett’s presence. “As much as
you want to put this on Hell and be done with it all, it’s not
gonna be that easy. This killer has been operating for months