Hell Bent Book Two

By Odette C. Bell

To play this game, Mary can’t die.
Easier said than done. When the Devil pushes closer to Bridgetown, Mary’s forced further into the case of her life – and everyone else’s. One name keeps popping up, no matter where she digs. Diana Winters. She’s at the heart of the Devil’s greed, Vincent’s fear, and the tournament’s games.
Mary will just have to keep playing to find out the truth.
....
Hell Bent follows a plucky witch and the vampire forcing her to fight for him in a battle to save the city from a dark tournament. If you love your urban fantasies with action, wit, and a splash of romance, grab Hell Bent Book Two today and soar free with an Odette C. Bell series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Odette C. Bell
• Release date: Feb 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005140700

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Chapter One

Vincent

Mary… had won.

And now? Nothing would be the same again.

Vincent stood there, cold, somehow warm, victorious, but somehow defeated all at the same time.

He watched Mary walk away from the ring. Watched as Theodore stared at her, greed not just alighting through his gaze, but burning through it.

There was a lot Vincent could say to Theodore. But not here.

He went to walk after Mary, but Petunia got in his way. She flashed her gaze sideways to Theodore. He still called the match. And he hasn’t played it yet. This is an opportunity.

Vincent sighed, letting his gaze race up between the aisles. Mary’s familiar stuck close by her side, and somehow, she held her head up high. She didn’t let her gaze deviate once toward the crowd, though everyone cheered her on. Even from here, Vincent was aware of just how cold she was, how wet her skin had become with cloying sweat. She’d never have seen this side of not just Bridgetown, but of magic. The brutal side, the side that wanted blood – that would twist any situation until it got every sacrifice it could slay.

He might not have known Mary for long, but he’d assumed she would’ve crumpled at such a sight.

He’d never seen her standing taller.

Vincent tried to pull free from Petunia’s grip. The fight will go on. But I need to—

You need to what? Petunia’s voice dropped slightly. Her fingers gripped Vincent’s arm – with the power of one of the strongest vampires in the country.

Even if Vincent went toe to toe with Petunia, the fight might not have a clear victor. From what he’d heard, she’d undergone specialized training. Training that would make her as formidable as a Mongol warrior, as versatile as a wily crow, and as strong as tempered steel.

This is outrageous, Theodore spat. He sounded like someone had hands around his throat. Perhaps the situation did. He’d invested so much time and energy into Mary. But now that energy strode away, her head held up high.

You need to be here to initiate the match. You have to watch – as per the rules, Petunia said, her eyes on Theodore, but her mouth twitching toward Vincent.

Vincent grabbed his jaw.

All he could do was hear what Mary had repeated to him, see the way she’d looked when she’d said it.

She’d marry him.

But it was far too late for that.

Vincent. Initiate the fight. He’s weakened, Petunia snapped one last time.

Vincent twisted his head around, almost as if he’d been slapped. He stared at Theodore. The look of fright rounding Theodore’s eyes was all Vincent needed to conclude that, yes, Petunia was right. And yes, Theodore should pay.

He still nodded at Bates.

Bates snapped a salute. I’m on it.

Be sure to warn her of the rules of the tournament. She cannot discuss what happened here today. Petunia, her hand still on Vincent’s arm, didn’t even bother to look Bates’s way as she said that.

Vincent got that Petunia was a hardened warrior, despite her sometimes soft exterior. But not even a scrap of compassion glimmered in her gaze.

Vincent clenched his teeth.

This wasn’t the first time he’d had to do what he needed to and not what he wanted to do. It was harder, though. His heart beat ferociously, and this niggling energy shot through his stomach, ricocheting up into his tightly clenched jaw.

He still turned. He looked directly at Theodore, who was still reeling, his cheeks smarting like he’d been slapped repeatedly.

I initiate a match. This tournament was called to test me. So test me, you will, Vincent demanded.

He hadn’t even bothered to look at Amy. She was still there, inside the ring, about several meters behind him, still unconscious, and presumably she’d be that way for some time. Mary hadn’t killed her. Vincent had felt the moment Mary had regulated her power. But that’d been one heck of a punch.

For she’d delivered it with all of Mary’s considerable force.

Vincent teetered on the spot again, stretching his neck to the side, watching as Bates struggled to catch up to Mary.

Celeste had said it would be almost impossible for Mary’s restriction to hold back magic, but there was no denying it now. There was a strength like no other within Mary. Vincent needed to help her find it, needed—

Theodore took a threatening step forward. Or at least the threat twitched in his eyes and his clenched, bloodless hands. The rest of his body succumbed to defeat. His lips jerked open, panic making them move like twitching fingers. Even if you call a match, you can only call one. You can take out one of my players. Big deal. I have hundreds, he hissed.

You’re the one who called the match, Vincent snarled.

Until this point, he’d always had at least a functional relationship with Theodore. Vincent would never call it friendly. But Theodore had never been this overtly hostile. Now he goaded Vincent in front of the crowd. It didn’t matter that most of them had partially lost their minds, giving up their sanity for the joy of blood sports. They’d remember this. Amongst the magical community, it’d soon be known that Theodore had it in for Vincent.

… Which would change precisely nothing.

If Vincent wanted anything to alter in this town, he had to be bold.

He crunched his neck toward Mary one last time and swallowed. He took a step back from Theodore. He sliced his hand to the side in a wide, powerful arc. Let the games begin.

Petunia had remained close by his side the entire time. As Vincent turned swiftly on his foot, he could see her lips curl into a smile.

It was… the smile of someone who wanted to fight. Who longed to prove themselves in the ring. But was it a smile of somebody whose ultimate goal was only to protect the city?

Was Vincent overthinking things?

He jumped down from the ring.

He turned his head over his shoulder, watching as Theodore did the same.

Once again Theodore redirected all his effort to his hands, now clenching them so tightly, it would’ve taken a team of scientists to undo his grip. His feet, however, were unsteady. He rocked to the side, falling against one of the VIP chairs. He thrust up, swore, turned, and walked to his area. The whole while, his neck twisted around, his sinew taut like ropes. He stared at Mary, stared at her like this was only the beginning.

Vincent would stop Theodore in his tracks, stop every hellish magical creature in this town from getting to her.

He didn’t care what he had to do. That was a promise. One of the few he could still make and hope to fulfill.

Vincent sat back down in his VIP seat. It was carved like a throne, the armrests high and long. He placed his fingers down on them, one by one, and pulled his neck around. He watched as the ring lit up, as Petunia lifted her hands, twirled on the spot, clicked her fingers once, and blazed with magic.

He watched, but his mind was elsewhere, around Mary’s shoulders, wondering how this could have turned out differently if she’d said yes in the hospital and he’d trusted his heart, not his brain.

It was too late now.

Chapter Two

Mary

Bates caught up with her. Good, she didn’t know how to get out of here, and she needed directions. She’d reached the top ring around the stadium seating. The crowd thronged around her – until another match was called.

Bates stood there, a mixture of awe and surprise flickering in his eyes. Was there something else? Fear? You know, justified fear at the fact she was a monster? She had a restriction in her body – one that held back a clearly terrible power. Even Bates, the hardened army warlock, should be down on his knees, quivering like a kid at the sight of his first ghost.

And if not Bates… how about Vincent? She twisted, stared right past Bates’s shoulder, and looked down the aisle. It had teemed with the crowd previously, but now everyone was back in their seats, and that god-awful bloodthirsty cheering returned. It grated on Mary’s nerves, made her clamp her hands behind her back, made her fix her fingers in as tightly as she could until it was like someone had turned the knuckles into clamps.

Vincent didn’t look her way now the games had started again.

Bates ducked down, pressing his head close, clearly trying to get her attention. It’s okay, he said breathily, his eyebrows peaking.

She twisted to face him. For way too long, she said nothing. She would’ve looked like she was out of her depth.

A commiserating smile twisted across his lips. It’s okay. You did well.

Right. But….

We shouldn’t discuss this here. Let’s get out of here first.

He turned around, and she followed faithfully behind him. She was so thankful for Frederick. He was right by her side, padding along quietly, close enough that his tail constantly trailed over her leg. Speaking of her leg. She was injured. She’d been smashed up against the electrified ring so many times, she couldn’t count, but if you bothered to look at her open wounds, you’d deduct just how bad that fight had been.

It was a miracle she could still walk. But something wasn’t miraculous, one truly worrying thing. This cold, dense pressure built up in her left hand – the same one that’d momentarily fought past the restriction. It was like someone had hollowed out all the bones and replaced them with the cores from glaciers. As for her blood? It was like the vacuum of deep space.

She tried but failed to pump her fingers in and out.

Bates concentrated on getting them out of here as fast as he could. He walked past that official building – the one that held the scroll – and strode straight up to the wall.

What— Mary began.

He flicked his fingers up then out. He pressed the flat of his palm against the wall. A Flagstaff family seal appeared over the back of his hand. It blinked into life like a faulty light. Just a few little sparks of magic raced across it, and they sank into the wall. Then abruptly it turned into a door.

Mary shouldn’t have been this impressed. This entire tournament was technically amazing. And utterly, utterly brutal. As he led her through the door, she shivered at the bloodthirsty chanting.

He leaned past and closed the door.

It cut out the sound – also cut out the feeling of the Devil seal.

He looked at her, compassion flattening his brow again, peaking his eyebrows, making her wonder if he thought she’d break.

What happened to you over the past several days? You disappeared from the hospital.

Mary inclined her head back, her neck muscles about to break. She stared at the door.

She was wrong. She’d said it had cut out the sense of the Devil seal. It’d just obscured it slightly. If she focused her senses, she knew full well it was back there, gorging itself on all the horrors of the fight.

Her fingers twitched up. They were too weak to clutch into a fist.

Bates cleared his throat again. His eyebrows scrunched once more. If they kept doing that, they would drive a hole right through the center of his face. Mary, he said in the clear voice somebody uses when they’re dealing with a trauma victim.

Mary snapped her head around. It’s okay. I won.

And it was amazing. But where were you this past week?

Theodore kidnapped me. He trained me, she said. He wanted me to fight in the tournament for him.

Bates swore.

She shrugged. It’s fine. I’ll testify against him. I’ll tell the police all about the fact he wanted to use me in this horrifying game.

Bates’s cheeks twitched. This time, it sure as heck wasn’t with anger.

He wouldn’t make eye contact anymore, choosing to stare at the smooth wall instead.

… Bates?

You can’t testify against him.

I don’t care how dangerous it is. He’s gonna have to pay. All of them are gonna have to pay.

You can’t bring the tournament to the attention of the police, he said flatly, wincing the entire way.

Her lips pressed together, and she rumpled her brow. What are you talking about?

It’s forbidden to bring the tournament to the attention of anybody who is not directly related to it. To do so… to do so might open the seal, he said, his voice falling into a whispering hush.

All he had to do was say the word seal, and her hackles rose. So did Frederick’s.

He pushed himself between Bates and her. There must be some other way. Theodore broke the rules of the tournament.

Bates grabbed the back of his neck. He winced into the move. Which will be almost impossible to prove. Are you forgetting he’s on the Council? Hell, he’s not just on it. He practically runs it in Vincent’s shadow. We don’t really have any means to bring him to justice, Bates continued to wince through his words.

Maybe this was where Mary should’ve started screaming. She just looked at him, her gaze empty, her muscles feeling even weaker. She twisted around, angling against the wall beside her. She pressed her weak shoulders into it. She closed her eyes and clamped her good hand over her face. What exactly happens next, Bates?

Don’t worry – Vincent’s got your back. He’ll find some way to pull you out of the tournament.

She dropped her hand whipcrack fast. I don’t want to be pulled out of the tournament.

He hissed as if he were in pain. You don’t get how serious this is. You got—

Lucky when I fought, ha? Mary said in a completely hollow voice. She slowly lifted her hand – the left one. It brought attention to how weak it was – the fact it hung limply off her wrist like it wasn’t a hand anymore and just a sack of blood and bones.

Bates became deadly quiet as he stared at it, eyes wide, trying to pick up every detail he could. Magic no longer raced across it. It didn’t reveal the impressive light show it had shown when she’d removed the seal. It was just pale and patchy with pink skin. For now.

With a blast of effort, she formed a weak fist. Bates, Theodore kidnapped me because he knew about my restriction. He knew it would affect the tournament. He figured out that I’d be pitted against lower classed players because I’m only a level 1 witch, but if I could call on my restriction, I’d be able to defeat them easily.

Which is exactly why we have to keep you away from him.

Which is exactly why I have to play the game anyway. I’m registered. I want to do this.

He shook his head, the move reflexive like a spring trying to open, no matter what pinned it down. I appreciate your bravery, but you have no idea what you’re talking about. The game changes people. Crushes hearts and minds. You don’t want to play it, Mary. Leave it up to others.

But Vincent wanted me to play, she said, able to form those words, but not able to say that Vincent wanted to marry her, even though they were equivalent thoughts. It was time to stop thinking about all of this in terms of weddings and nuptials. They were just a smokescreen for what was back there, right over her shoulder. The violent fun of the Devil.

Bates shook his head only once now, and it was a determined move. He changed his mind, Mary. He doesn’t want you to get in any danger.

All she heard was Vincent had changed his mind.

Her shoulders were still pressed up against the wall. Now she pushed off. She twisted to go back to the tournament, but Bates wouldn’t let her. He angled in front of her, opened his hands, and shook his head. We need to get you to the doctor. Celeste will have to look at that hand. Now we know what the restriction hides, she’ll need to help you with it.

Fine. My hand is slowly returning to normal, though. She tried to push past him to open the door, her gaze fixing on it as if she were staring down the crosshairs of a gun.

I can’t let you go back in there, Mary. Vincent would have my head on a platter.

Her lips twitched into a frown. What exactly do I have to do with Vincent anymore?

Bates looked at Mary – looked at her as if he knew the truth – even though Mary didn’t know it yet. I can tell you, he said in a direct tone. You are still contracted to him. Find out who broke into his hotel.

She snorted, brow pressing down low in incredulity. I know exactly who broke into his hotel. She jammed her thumb back in the tournament’s direction. It’s the same sorceress I knocked out only 10 minutes ago. The contract is spent.

If it were spent, it would have burnt up already. It hasn’t. You still need to find proof it was Amy. Without it, the contract stands.

You told me earlier that even if I get proof, it won’t achieve anything. Theodore runs this town. We can’t speak about the tournament, either, she snarled.

So much for winning. Yeah, she was out of Theodore’s clutches. For now. She’d also defeated Amy, fair and square. But now everything became so complicated, the simplicity of that victory fell away, tumbling into a void of total confusion.

She wrapped a hand around her gut, clamped her jaw together hard, and went to push past Bates toward the door one last time.

So he yanked up his hands and spread them so wide, it was like he wanted to grab the universe with them. I have to get you to Celeste, okay? We also have to talk to the police.

The police? Mary’s nose scrunched up.

You’ve been missing for several days. Everybody’s going wild looking for you.

That was news to Mary. It was a surprise, too. Who exactly would care?

Bates shot her this look. She didn’t know what it meant. Or rather, she didn’t want to know. If anybody had searched for her with the same compassion and fear now crumpling his brow, it suggested she’d always been uncomfortably wrong about this town and what she meant to it.

Come on, Bates said.

Reluctantly, she followed.

He led her through a stone corridor.

The further away she got from the tournament, the less prominent the Hell seal became. It didn’t slip away entirely. Even when they made it up onto the city street beyond.

Now Mary was aware of it, she’d never be free of it again.

Once they reached the city street, Mary shivered, a fell wind racing down the road. She’d had no clue what time of day it was. The answer was roughly in the morning sometime. As she crammed her hands into her pockets, tilted her head up, and stared at the clouds, she saw a heck of a storm on the horizon.

Come on, Bates said. He clicked his fingers. There was a resounding note to it. It echoed, not just between them, but down the street.

Mary frowned. A few seconds later, she heard the roar of an engine. Seemingly out of nowhere, Bates’s limousine appeared.

Get in.

She complied, tumbling into the passenger seat.

You can sit in the back.

I’d rather sit up front where I can see things clearly. I doubt this city has stopped throwing me curveballs.

She closed the door, Frederick leaping onto her lap.

Then they hurtled toward the hospital.

Mary couldn’t help but remember the last time she’d done that. Back then, she’d had questions. Now? Oh, there was no point referring to them as questions. They were more like shackles binding her closer and closer to the mysteries of this city. Mary had already felt obliged to fix Bridgetown’s problems. She’d never been aware of how many problems it had, though, and just how deeply they ran. Even now, as she half closed her eyes, she swore she got a sense of the Devil seal once more.

It wasn’t close to breaking, but… it wasn’t far away, either.

When we talk to the police, let me do most of the explaining, Bates assured her.

She frowned at him. What exactly am I going to say? That I just disappeared for several days?

I will think of something, Bates promised her.

Mary clenched her teeth.

It didn’t take long to arrive at the hospital.

It was only several minutes. But she packed a surprising number of thoughts into that brief time.

She didn’t consider all the vast problems of Bridgetown. Nope. She thought of one man – of one expression, too. It was the way Vincent had looked at her – the sheer relief and… something else that had filled his gaze when he’d grabbed her shoulders. Even now, she slowly brought up a hand, tenderly grabbed her left shoulder, then let it drop.

They reached the hospital.

Bates parked right up front.

Mary jumped out.

I’ll park the car. I’ll be a minute, tops. He went to drive away.

Mary ran up to the car. Wait. What… what if Theodore tries to snatch me again? She kept her voice even. Not that hard. You know what? She’d fought Theodore once, and she’d fight him again. That said… she sure would like to rest. You know, a bit of sleep, maybe even a shower and a meal or two.

Theodore won’t touch you anymore. No one’s gonna kidnap you. Not to force you to play the game, anyway.

What a Hell of a caveat. There were plenty of other reasons to kidnap her. And there were plenty of other ways Theodore could show his ire.

You’re a registered player in the tournament now, Bates said, his voice not just dropping, but a momentary cone of silence spell spinning around them so nobody could hear. Plus, Theodore wouldn’t dare get on Vincent’s bad side. He clenched the wheel tighter, showing his flashing teeth. Vincent might have his hands bound when it comes to the tournament, but he’s still the strongest vampire in town.

With that confusing statement, Bates drove away.

Mary remained there, playing over what Bates had said, over and over and over. Repeating it so many times, in fact, it could crowd out every other thought and make her just an echo chamber for that empty mantra.

Vincent was still the strongest vampire in town, ha?

He still had his limitations, though. And he could be as strong as he liked, but he wasn’t as strong as the Devil.

Mary shivered as she waited there.

The door opened behind her. She didn’t take as much out of the fact somebody took a strong step out then paused, their shoes squeaking.

That was until one hand locked on her shoulder and spun her around.

Her hackles rose, and she got ready to fight, even bringing up a fist with a violent twitch.

Oh no.

It was Hammerstead.

He stared at her, his gaze going wild until it crumpled in angry confusion. Mary? What the Hell are you doing here? Where have you been?

Mary’s lips dropped open. She’d always assumed that Hammerstead hated her. Out of all the detectives at the police station, he was the one who’d had the most to do with her. He seemed to be there whenever she was at her most embarrassing.

Mary, where were you? What happened? We searched the entire city for you, he said, his voice getting quicker, words sharp like teeth.

Bates had said he’d think of a plan. So all Mary did was stand there.

Mary, where were you?

I was…. She looked to the side. She strained her neck, waiting to see Bates. But maybe it was harder to park than he’d thought, or he’d become distracted for some other reason.

Mary? Hammerstead was a great student of psychology. He spent most of his time staring across the interview table at perps, figuring out when they were lying.

So he knew she was hesitating, all right. He’d also know this didn’t come from trauma.

He took a step back, his eyebrows clunking down with all the force of a ship’s anchor being tossed off the side of some vessel to ensure it never moved an inch again.

Mary? he asked one last time.

Mary flattened an awkward smile on her face. Big mistake. It might be her go-to move when she attempted to hold her embarrassment in, but it told Hammerstead that not only was she lying, but he had every right to be angry with her.

He crossed his beefy arms, folding them in front of himself with all the gravitas of a judge bringing up a gavel before he presided on some poor sap of a crim.

He inclined his head to the side. It wasn’t to look at her from another angle. It was probably to show off his impressive muscles and the way they looked like cages for his barely-held back rage. They bulged all the way down into his neck like iron bars. "I was right, wasn’t I? You poked some spell you shouldn’t have. Where have you been for the