by Cara Wylde
Pazuzu had found her for me. He was a demon, and demons were in the business of sinful people. She was petite, with black hair and brown eyes, dressed in designer clothes. Nothing about her betrayed that she recruited barely legal girls from poor eastern countries to work in the west as dancers. That was what she told them. Once they got to the US, they soon realized their new job had nothing to do with dancing.
Francis had tied her up good, blindfolded her, and stuffed a rag in her mouth. As he and Paz pushed her to her knees in front of the well, she whimpered.
I was shaking. My head was throbbing, my skin burned hot with fever, sweat gathered at the edges of my hair, dripping down my temples. I felt sick to my stomach. Bile rose in my throat, and I swallowed heavily, forced it back down. It tasted bitter. I’d already vomited twice. My ears buzzed. I could barely hear GC’s meek encouragements. What the fuck was he even saying? How could he be encouraging me? He was… telling me about her misdeeds, something about sex traffic statistics in North America alone. I didn’t care. I didn’t want to hear any of it. Sariel asked me if I wanted to know her name, and I yelled at him. What did I yell? Did I even use words?
“Mila.” Francis’s voice, quiet and gentle. “It’s time.”
I shook my head and took a few steps back. GC sighed, grabbed me by the arms, and pushed me toward the well. Toward her.
“N-no.”
“Mila, the quicker, the better.”
“N-no.”
GC stepped closer, hugged me from behind. I couldn’t see him, but I knew he’d scrunched up his nose the second he caught a whiff of my skin. I didn’t smell like someone who was alive and healthy. Because I was neither. I hated, hated it so much that Francis had been right. Refusing to feed the god meant rotting on my feet. My kidneys had started failing already, and only one was still functional. I was constantly sick, and I couldn’t hold down any food. Dark spots had begun popping up here and there, on my arms and thighs. I didn’t know what they meant, and didn’t want to research it, either. And, oh my God, I smelled! No matter how often I showered, no matter how much body lotion I lathered onto my skin, and no matter how many bottles of perfume I dumped on my clothes, the smell wouldn’t go away. Wouldn’t change, wouldn’t let up. I fucking stank!
So, here I was, on the first day of school, down in the cavern, with my guys, my pixie, and a very scared, very well-tied up woman who was going down the well. She was. She had to. But for the ritual to work, I had to say the right words and push her.
“Just do it,” GC whispered in my ear. I inhaled his fresh, manly scent, which made me feel even more uncomfortable in my decaying body. “It will take two minutes, and then you can put all of this behind you.”
But I couldn’t, could I?
“Mistress, you have to do it. I don’t want to lose you.” Corri’s voice was trembling. She was perched on Sariel’s shoulder, who was a few feet away. Not far enough to offend me, but not close enough to catch my distinctive scent, either. He might have been a Fallen One now, an archangel without wings or honor, but his nose was still sensitive and accustomed to noble aromas. Truth be told, since I’d turned into a revenant, Corri kind of favored Sariel and GC. She stayed away from Francis, although he was as perfect as could be, what with making his blood sacrifices on time, and usually steered clear of Pazuzu, too. Demons frightened her. Too unpredictable, she said. When he got angry, his eyes turned red, and then she’d have nightmares for days.
“You know the words,” Francis reminded me.
Yeah, I knew the words.
Pazuzu stood beside the woman, holding her firmly by the shoulders. The fight was almost out of her, but I knew that if she sensed she had a chance to escape, she’d take it. I wondered how much she understood from what was happening, from what was about to happen to her.
“Do it,” he said. There was something in his voice, something dark and cold. Distant.
Except for Francis, who was used to this sort of scene, I could tell the others weren’t in their element. They didn’t like what I had to do, nor what they had to do to help me, but they liked the consequences of not doing any of it even less. A blood sacrifice every three months. They’d accepted the idea, and now they were only waiting for me to accept it, too. I’d postponed the ritual long enough. Too long. Four months and a half had passed since I’d become a revenant, and I couldn’t prolong the pain and decay a day longer. Soon, I’d start losing parts of my body, or something. A toe, an ear…
Fuck, this is disgusting. What I am, what I have to do to stay the way I am. But once I did it, I’d be healthy again. Strong, and perfect, and good-smelling. I hadn’t had sex in a month. Sex would be nice… The moment I’d noticed there was something wrong with my body, I’d stayed away from my guys. What had I hoped to achieve? Did I really think that if I ignored the problem long enough, the god would forget what I owed him and let me be? That wasn’t how this new world I now belonged to worked, apparently.
Just do it, Mila. Just do it. Go on, you can do it. I believe in you.
But the last thing I believed in lately was me. Or my judgement.
I stepped up to the woman trembling on the floor. Pazuzu looked me in the eyes, and when I nodded firmly, he nodded back and stepped away. Francis moved to give me more space, and now it was just me and my victim in front of the well. Sensing my determination, the monster stirred in its sleep, its tentacles finding their way up the wet walls of the fountain and over the edge. I knew those walls… I’d touched them, scratched at them, climbed them…
I closed my eyes for a second, swallowed hard, then opened them, feeling like I was someone else, wanting to be someone else. If only I could detach myself from this body, this place, this moment in time… I couldn’t.
“Ancient One, hear me,” I whispered, my voice sounding like it was coming from beyond the grave. Because it kind of was. “Receive this sacrifice of flesh and blood, make me whole again. Ya stell’bsna y’bthnk orr’e syha’h. Ya kadishtu n’gha,” I continued in the nightmarish language of the cosmic being. “Zhro!” At that last word, a bouquet of tentacles covered in suction cups of all sizes, oozing green and black slime, emerged from the well, reaching out for the prey. I dragged in a breath, yanked the woman to her feet, and pushed her forward. I had to hand her to the monster myself. My steps echoed through the dark tunnels like claps of thunder. Her shuffling feet and desperate whimpers weren’t strong enough to drown them. That was all I could hear. My steps, my panicked breathing, my croaking voice saying over and over: “Ya kadishtu n’gha.” I know your darkness.
I pushed her against the low edge of the well. The tentacles enveloped her lithe body in a split second and dragged her down down down. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t struggle, couldn’t break free… And I briefly remembered how that felt.
I closed my eyes and waited.
The crunch of bones, the splash of something wet and highly abundant. Blood.
And I waited some more. We all waited.
It started with a flutter in my stomach, a stir in my heart. I knew my insides were mending.
Ten minutes later, I was young, healthy, and beautiful again. I smelled of wild roses.
CHAPTER TWO
There was this one thing I kept telling myself in hopes that one day I’d believe it. Being a revenant had its perks.
Heightened senses. As Paz pushed me onto the bed, I ran my hands through his long black hair and pulled him closer, until his lips pressed to my collarbone, and I moaned in pleasure. His tongue darted out to taste my skin, and that made my eyes roll in my head. It had been too long… My body was craving him… them. I was soaked between the legs, and my nipples were as hard as pebbles. Paz bit me hard, knowing how much I liked a little pain mixed in with his loving caresses, then looked into my eyes. His orbs were red. He was angry. Angry at himself for what he’d done, angry at me because I’d made him do it.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Don’t be.” His voice was low and
husky. “You’re here.” He dug his fingers into my sides, as if squeezing my flesh until it bruised made me real. “You’re here with us.”
I looked past his shoulder at GC, Sariel, and Francis. After what had happened in the cavern, we’d found our way to my room at the top of the North Tower. GC had removed half of his clothes, and he was just getting rid of his boxer briefs, his hard cock bouncing free. Sariel and Francis were still shy around me. They’d only joined my little harem – as I liked to call it jokingly – last spring, and they were learning to share me with the false god and the demon, who were, naturally, more daring when it came to fucking. Paz and GC knew me. They knew what I liked, how I liked it, and they knew there were no limits to what they were allowed to do to me. The wilder, the better.
GC jumped on the bed, next to us, and pushed Paz firmly off me. The demon growled, which made me chuckle. I loved it when they fought over me like this. It made me feel like I was important, like I mattered.
“Shh, there’s plenty for everyone.” I reached out for GC and kissed him fiercely on the lips. He tasted of apple cider and pot. His favorite combination when he was stressed and needed to take the edge off. He’d surely had to take the edge off today. The first day of school, which we’d all skipped… We were skipping right now, arms and legs entangled, while the other students were in class.
GC started pulling at my clothes, carelessly, not at all interested in preserving their integrity. Maybe he’d forgotten I was penniless and couldn’t afford to buy myself a lousy pair of jeans. They’d dressed me all summer.
In turn, I started pulling at Pazuzu’s clothes, since GC had already taken the burden of his out of the way. As a shifter, he was a huge fan of walking around in all his naked glory, flaunting his six pack, ripped arms and thighs, and that perfect cock in its nest of golden hair, like his body had been built to be worshipped and adored. Oh, how I loved to worship him, though. On my knees, lips wrapped around that beautiful shaft, eager to earn the hot cum he’d shoot down my throat.
My tattoos came into view one by one. The sun and moon under my boobs, the fox on my right side, Corri’s detailed, realistic portrait on my shoulder blades… Geometrical figures, stars, flowers and birds scattered here and there, everywhere.
Garments out of the way and on the floor, we were three bodies, hot and needy, rolling around on the bed. Paz and GC were fighting for dominance, and my breasts and perfectly shaved pussy were their battlefield. As GC sucked on my nipples and Paz pulled my legs apart to bury his head between them, I made eye contact with Sariel. He was looking at me with hungry eyes, his hands trembling slightly as he undid the buttons of his shirt one by one. I licked my lips invitingly.
Francis had pulled an armchair closer to the bed, and was currently lounging in it, fully dressed, his cock hard in his pants, his arms resting on the armrests, hands curled into fists, so he wouldn’t touch himself. He was a strange fellow, my Francis. He liked to watch. It turned him on tremendously, but he refused to jack off, he refused to even release his painful erection from the confines of his uniform trousers. He’d wait until the guys were done with me, because he knew I’d come to him, eventually, my skin covered in sweat, my blue hair disheveled, my pussy dripping with hot cum, hungry for more, hungry for him.
My Francis was a voyeur, and fuck! Did that turn me on! He was just like me. Revenant. Ravenous. Making himself wait and suffer as the rest of us had orgasm after orgasm was punishment for what he was and what he had to do regularly to stay the way he was.
I beckoned to Sariel, and the Fallen One stepped closer. His shirt was off, but his pants were still on. I rolled my eyes and pushed Paz and GC off me, so I could crawl to the edge of the bed and pull at the archangel’s belt. Yes, to me Sariel was still an archangel. I released his long, thick cock, and took the engorged head in my mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of his pre-cum. Everything Sariel’s body produced was simply divine. They might have taken his wings and cast him out of Heaven, but he was still a piece of divine perfection. All over his body, his hair was blond and soft, his skin was pearly and velvety, and his saliva, his sweat, his cum… they all tasted like exotic fruits dipped in honey. For that, and for many other reasons, Sariel Gracewing was still an archangel to me.
Pazuzu moved behind me and positioned his cock at my wet entrance. I arched my back and spread my legs to give him better access. As I took more and more of Sariel’s cock in my mouth, Paz pushed himself inside me, and my pussy received him greedily, my walls throbbing around him, sucking him in deeper, until the tip of his shaft hit my cervix, and fireworks exploded behind my closed lids. It was so sensual, so cathartic… the way the demon’s cock filled me and rubbed all the good spots inside me, spots I would have never been able to reach with my fingers. Not that I’d ever tried… Having four boyfriends meant I never had to pleasure myself alone, unless it was to titillate them.
It didn’t take long. I was starved. We were both starved. Paz thrust a couple of times, then I felt him lean into me and hold my hips in place as he shot his seed deep within me. I moaned around Sariel’s cock, my orgasm hitting me like a wave, then retreating just as quickly as it came. I needed more. I released Sariel and sat up to look into his eyes. He got the hint, and pushed me on my back, just as Paz pulled out of me and moved aside. GC whined when he saw he wasn’t going to be next, so I grabbed his cock and rubbed it firmly, spreading the translucent beads that had gathered at the slit to shut him up.
The Fallen One was on top of me, his weight barely noticeable. After all this time, I still couldn’t quite comprehend how he was so light when he was pretty ripped himself, though not as much as GC and Paz, who’d made fitness their second religion. I wasn’t sure what their first was… Me, perhaps. I liked to think that…
It made sense his bones needed to be light, so he could fly, although he wasn’t doing much of that lately, was he? I liked him on top of me. He was gentle and caring. He never made the first step, so I always had to reach between us and guide his cock inside me. The second he was buried deep, he’d close his eyes and simply stay like that for a few seconds, enjoying the warmth of my body and the tightness of my pussy. He did the same routine this time, but I didn’t mind it. Unlike GC and Paz who were rough, always in a rush and all over the place, Sariel felt safe and stable. Like I could count on him… Like I could count on the long, intense orgasms he gave me.
He opened his eyes, and I placed my hands on his cheeks. GC would have to wait a little bit longer. He protested when I released his cock, but his hand was as good as mine, and would have to do for now. Paz made a trip to the fridge, got himself a beer, then came to lie on his back next to me and Sariel. He threaded his fingers through my hair as the archangel fucked me nice and slow.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Sariel’s handsome face. I was in love with his blue eyes, straight nose, high cheekbones, soft lips… The man who’d bullied me so brutally… He was mine now, and I was his. He’d lost his wings, and somehow, that made it all okay. He was deep inside me, his cock rubbing against my G-spot, and all was forgiven. Sometimes I felt like he was the most loyal of all, since he had so much to atone for. We looked into each other’s eyes as we moved faster and rougher. The sound of our lovemaking filled the room, and when he slammed his hips harder against me, the bed started creaking under us.
“Ugh, come on,” GC whined. “You’ve been going at it forever. Dude, make her cum, so we can all move on with our lives.”
“Shut up,” Sariel said through gritted teeth.
I smiled up at him. It took him longer to come. He didn’t like having an audience, especially when that audience was a very impatient false god who was waiting for his turn. Paz didn’t annoy him as much, and Francis was easy to ignore. That was why I always tried to focus on Sariel and Sariel alone when we made love, because I knew he needed to feel like it was only the two of us to let himself go. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He buried his hea
d in my neck.
“Mmm… like that,” I whispered in his ear. “Right there. Harder.”
For an ex-archangel, he sure liked it when I talked dirty. But I needed to build it up, whisper it to him gently, as if I was making a love confession, not describing how I wanted to be fucked.
“Mmm… I love your cock. I love it when you fuck my cunt like there’s no tomorrow…” I knew the guys could hear me. Supernaturals and their sharp hearing… “Fuck my cunt.” He liked that word. It was crude and forbidden. A man simply didn’t talk like that to the woman he loved, so he didn’t. He never used it. I’d never heard him say it, even though he’d called me kuchka plenty of times when he’d hated my guts. But that was different, wasn’t it? When you said a bad word in a language that wasn’t yours, your subconscious didn’t quite register it as a bad word. “Fuck my cunt, baby. Just like that…” He came with a strained moan, jaw clenched tightly, and eyes squeezed shut. When Sariel came, it was as if it hurt him, as if he was in more pain than pleasure. He came hard and long, filling my pussy to the brim, and I could almost imagine him pouring all his love and hate into it, into me, adoring me and cursing me at the same time, claiming me as his property, then pulling out and looking at me like I was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.
He grabbed my jaw with a shaky hand, looked into my eyes as his own filled with tears at the corners, and dived in for a desperate kiss. But no matter how charged the relationship between us was, how heavy and confusing the feelings we shared, he never hurt me. Never even bit my tongue or my lips. When we parted, and GC finally pulled me over to him, I could still feel Sariel on my skin, in my mouth, in my pussy… as if his very energy had attached itself to me and wouldn’t let go until forced by one of my other lovers.
GC liked to put on a show. He dragged me out of the bed, like a big cat that liked to play with its prey before it devoured it. A big cat, GC was not. When he shifted, he was a golden bull with deadly horns and a cute, wet nose. But only I was allowed to say it was cute.
