Kisses from Hell

He smiled to himself in the dark. There was a long silence. Paul Michael thought he could hear the stars crackling in the sky.

“What about you?” he asked her. “I want to know all about you. Where you come from and why you are here and how you became what you are.”

She sighed. “It’s better for you to know me only as I am, without the weakness I had before, to inspire you.”

“I want to know everything.”

Lilith turned on her side and leaned her head on his shoulder. She felt small as he cradled her, not like someone who could kill a boy the way she had.

“I was just a girl,” she said. “I thought I was really ugly. These boys were constantly calling me names. I was sexier than I should have been; I made them uncomfortable. So I turned all that power on myself. And that power—that girl sex power—it’s hard-core. I was going to kill myself, and I could have easily done it, and then this person came into my life. I called him Adam. He made me into this so that I could have my revenge and so that I could be his forever. But after he made me I was even more powerful than he was, and when I took my revenge on the ones who had hurt me I hurt him, too. Because I didn’t want to belong to anyone.”

Paul Michael didn’t feel that way, not at all. He wanted to belong to Lilith. She shifted and extricated herself from his embrace, then reached up and placed her own small arms around him.

After a while, he fell asleep like that. Hers.

Black Moon

The next morning, when he got home, Paul Michael looked at himself in the mirror, but he was not there. He was not there at all. He looked down at his arm. His skin looked smooth, hairless, and almost shiny. Paul Michael touched his face. His skin felt smooth there, too. No blemishes, no sheen of oil. He didn’t need his glasses anymore; he had left them smashed in the dirt the night before, and that was where they belonged. When he touched his scalp it was baby smooth. He lifted his arm and sniffed his armpit. There was no scent. None at all. Except perhaps a very faint tang of iron and something floral, maybe violets or white roses or poppies. He smelled beautiful. He smelled like her.

Later, after he had slept, Paul Michael left the house and walked into the night. It was a bit cooler, always after the sun had set. A warm wind swept through the town. It was riddled with disease and miracles. There was no moon. Black moon time. Lilith called it that.

Paul Michael’s step was lighter. He almost felt like he was floating, as if he didn’t have any organs weighing him down. The streets were mostly empty. A few cars drove by, and Paul Michael found himself retreating into the bushes, away from their light. He didn’t want the light, but he wasn’t afraid. That was one big difference; he wasn’t afraid of anything anymore.

But he was hungry.

His veins ached. They felt shrunken and thirsty. He looked down at his arm again, and he couldn’t see any veins showing through the skin at all. He pumped his fist and there still wasn’t anything.

“Paul Michael.”

He heard her voice, but in his head, so he wasn’t sure if she was there or not. “Lilith?”

“I’ve come to say good-bye.”

She was standing before him. He reached out and tried to touch her, but she turned just in time and he missed. She glanced back and smiled. Her teeth were razor-sharp pearls.

“You will take my place.”

“Why me?” he asked, thinking of all the hot, sexy, strong boys she could have chosen.

“Because I need you to.”

“But why did you choose me?”

“Because you were the one who wanted to escape the most. Out of all the lost souls everywhere, I sensed the power of your imagination, and of your need.”

He remembered, for the first time since it had happened, the abyss of Carter’s eyes, the hell of them. Paul Michael would be a killer now, and, if Lilith left him, always completely alone.

He wondered if it was a punishment or a gift, what she had given him.

An owl screeched, from the dark air, a sound much worse than sudden, violent death, like the destruction Paul Michael was now condemned to visit upon the world.

He had no way to ask her. She was gone.

About the Authors

KRISTIN CAST is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who teams with her mother to write the House of Night YA series. She has stand-alone stories in several anthologies as well as editorial credits. Currently Kristin attends college in Oklahoma, where she is focusing on attaining her dream of opening a no-kill dog rescue shelter in midtown Tulsa.

ALYSON NOËL is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of EVERMORE, BLUE MOON, SHADOWLAND, and seven previous novels for St. Martin’s Press. She lives in Laguna Beach, California, where she is working on more books in The Immortals series, as well as a spin-off series beginning with the book RADIANCE. You can visit her online at www.alysonnoel.com.

KELLEY ARMSTRONG is the author of the Darkest Powers YA urban fantasy trilogy, the Women of the Otherworld paranormal suspense series, and the Nadia Stafford crime series. You can visit her online at www.kelleyarmstrong.com.

RICHELLE MEAD lives in Seattle and is the author of the Vampire Academy series. When not writing, she can be found watching bad movies, inventing recipes, and buying far too many dresses. You can visit her online at www.richellemead.com.

FRANCESCA LIA BLOCK, winner of the prestigious Margaret A. Edwards Award, is the author of many acclaimed and bestselling books, including WEETZIE BAT, DANGEROUS ANGELS: The Weetzie Bat Books, PSYCHE IN A DRESS, THE WATERS & THE WILD, THE FRENZY, and PRETTY DEAD. You can visit her online at www.francescaliablock.com.

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ADDITIONAL HELL COLLECTIONS:

PROM NIGHTS FROM HELL

LOVE IS HELL

VACATIONS FROM HELL