Saving Her

by B E Brouillard

  She swung her feet from the bed and stood, catching a glimpse of her naked body in the mirror and reveling in it. She loved the way she looked.

  “Beautiful,” she whispered. He’d called her beautiful. Said it so many times, it felt hardwired into her mind. “Beautiful beautiful beautiful.” Even as he’d traced the scars she’d made in her own skin. Even as he’d stroked the pads of his thumbs over the dark circles beneath her haunted eyes.

  “I’m beautiful.”

  Desirée reached for a robe behind the door and pulled it over her shoulders, padding through the sitting room to get to the kitchen for coffee.

  As she stepped through the door, she stopped abruptly. There was a woman sitting there. A stranger, lounging on the couch, arms stretched out along the back, her legs crossed at the knee. As comfortable and relaxed as if she’d been there for a lifetime.

  “Who—? Excuse me…who are you?” Desirée faltered. ‘Had Di forgotten to mention a friend who might visit?’ Her mind raced. “Are you…a friend of Diana’s?” she tried again.

  “Oh no, darling,” the woman replied, her voice slithering sinuously. She had an accent, something exotic that Desirée couldn’t place.

  “Then I…” Desirée glanced around, torn between stepping back to the safety of the bedroom or looking for some sort of weapon to defend herself. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came here for you, darling,” the woman replied, her lips curling into a cruel smile. She rose, silently, as if her joints were oiled. “Did you have a good evening?” she asked, out of the blue. “A good evening with…the boy?”

  Desirée blinked. “How could you…? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about Axel, darling,” the woman went on. “My little pet. I sent him to you, did you know that?” Desirée shook her head. “I trust he did a good job of…pleasing you?” the woman continued.

  “Pleasing…? I don’t understand! How could you possibly—?”

  “Possibly know that he fucked you all night? Had you screaming his name until your voice left you?” The woman was running cruel dark eyes down Desirée’s body as if she somehow found her substandard. Desirée pulled the robe closer around her.

  “It was a joke, darling.” On this woman’s lips, the endearment sounded dirty. “A little game we played…Jules and me. To set you right.” Desirée’s mouth dropped open.

  “Jules?” she gasped.

  “Well, of course. Couldn’t you guess?” the woman went on. “Good lord, girl, do you really think a man like that would be attracted to you?” She looked down her nose as if examining an insect. “He’s wonderful, of course…and why would someone wonderful want someone like…you?” Desirée’s mother’s words came rushing back her in a surge. The pain of the constant put-downs. The sense of never making the grade. And that somehow it was all her fault. The woman’s black eyes hadn’t left her face, as if she knew the thoughts that were whirling around in Desirée’s mind.

  “Yes…yes, you’re right, darling,” she whispered, stepping closer. “All your fault. Why should your mother love you? You were a disappointment as a child and still are. Child of Satan…isn’t that what she called you? Is it any wonder that those men chose to toy with you…your father’s concubine? You were an evil little plaything…probably begged for it. You should have been grateful. And Jules? You never deserved him! You should have tried harder. That baby was taken from you because you don’t deserve to bring life into this world. You’re a pit of poison.”

  Desirée inhaled a sharp breath, feeling her shoulders slump, her knees give way. She felt herself sink to the floor, still staring up at the woman in front of her; she was so close now they were nearly touching. For a moment, Desirée was afraid she’d lift a foot and aim a kick at her, like an unwanted stray.

  “I know about your foolish thoughts, stupid girl.” The woman no longer bothered with pointed terms of endearment. “You’re toxic. The world would be better without you. All of these people would be better without you.” She swept an arm to encompass the walls of the little flat, where Di had set out countless photos of her trips, among them, photos of her and Desirée. The two of them with groups of friends – friends who’d seldom seen Desirée in the years she’d been with Jules.

  “But…but they’re my friends…” Desirée whispered. The woman bit out a laugh.

  “They were Diana’s friends. And they tolerated you because of her! Jules told me all about it. When he was telling me why he needed to teach you a lesson. And that’s where lovely Axel came in. We hired him, you know. He’s a ‘pro’.” She started laughing, the sound hard and bitter.

  For some reason, it never occurred to Desirée to ask this person how she knew Jules. How she knew the things her mother had said to her. How she knew about those vile men from her childhood. All she knew was that it was true. All of it. She’d always known it. Known she was poisoned. She groaned and scraped her nails along the raised welts on her thigh. Felt the rawness of them.

  “That’s right, girl, you know what the answer is,” the woman’s voice became soothing now. “You know you’ve been on the right track all along. You need to let the poison out…” Desirée glanced up. The woman’s hand was extended, her fingers curled around the hilt of a vicious-looking dagger. Her eyes widened as the light caught the blade.

  “You know how to do it. You’ve done it before. But this time…” she knelt at Desirée’s side, her breath on her cheek, “this time do it properly.” The dagger was in Desirée’s hands now, and the woman had clasped her own fingers gently but firmly around them. “Do it,” she breathed again, lifting the tip of the blade to trail over the pale flesh of Desirée’s wrist. The tip swept down in a vertical line towards her palm. “You know you can do it. This is what you’ve needed. Your whole life. Do it.”

  Desirée drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Felt the sharp tip of the blade as it pressed against her skin. Could visualize the faint tracing of blue veins that pulsed there. Dark eyebrows drew together as she pushed deeper, feeling the bite as flesh parted and—

  “Stop!” A voice rang out of nowhere. She jerked to a halt, her eyes flying open. “Imentet! Get away from the woman!” A male voice held a menace that froze her. The woman before her tightened her grip on her hand, pressing the blade deeper.

  “Don’t come any closer, Salazar,” Imentet screamed. “I will end her, I swear it!”

  “No! Stop!” Another voice…one she recognized. Desirée looked up and met a turquoise gaze.

  Axel.

  She gave a tiny sob. The hand on hers was relentless; she could feel the knife cutting through her skin.

  “Axel?” she whispered. It wasn’t a question. It was a plea.

  And suddenly the room went dark, and an icy wind began to swirl around her, around all of them, so strong she was sure it would lift her from the floor. She ducked her head down to her chest. A piercing shriek almost shattered her eardrums, and she squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could. The grip on her wrist was ripped away, the pressure of the dagger eased just as suddenly. Strong arms wrapped around her, and she felt herself pulled against a broad chest. The wind hadn’t died down, but now it was joined by an unearthly howling that made her blood run cold. A babbling sound had joined it.

  “No…no stop! You can’t do this! I have been made promises! Your Lord has made promises!” It was the woman. She was screaming. Hurling abuse. Railing against whatever held her captive. Desirée dared to crack her eyes open and peeped out at the chaos. The woman was in the grip of the most hideous creature she had ever laid eyes on. Not human. Not of this world. A nightmare of wings and claws and gaping maws. Two more flanked the beast that held the struggling woman. Even as Desirée looked, she could see her form shifting, becoming less distinct, as if she was fading.

  No, not fading. Disintegrating.

  Her words had turned to pleas…and gradually agonized screams. The darkness that had descended so suddenly was replaced by bright light. Light tha
t seemed tinged with red, like the glow off of lava. She could feel the heat that came with it, almost unbearable, and she burrowed her face into Axel’s chest, willing it all to stop, to go away. To just let her be.

  Then it was gone, and the swirling chaos was replaced by a silence that was almost as deafening. Axel drew her gently from his chest, looked down into her face.

  “Are you ok?” he whispered, cupping her face with his hands. She nodded, speechless. There were no words to describe how she felt at that moment. He cradled her against him for a moment again and then moved away from her, glancing down at her body, as if taking stock of her. His eyes stopped at her wrist, where a dark bead of blood had oozed from her skin and trickled into her palm. He raised her hand and pressed his lips against the wound in her skin. It was little more than a nick, but it was deep. If they hadn’t arrived when they did…hadn’t stopped Imentet…

  It was more than he wanted to think about at that moment. He felt a presence at his side and looked up. Salazar stood beside him, flanked by Lilith and Jezebel. The trio were ablaze with rage. He knew it wasn’t aimed at him, yet instinctively he pulled Desirée back to himself and cradled her against his chest. His eyes dared them to offer any kind of threat.

  It wasn’t necessary. Lilith’s eyes were gentle, tender, as she gazed down at him.

  “You did well, boy,” she murmured. Imentet was a powerful force. An ancient evil that could tear an enemy apart. Yet it had been Axel who had charged at her and ripped her away from the woman on the floor. The woman he loved. She felt her cynical heart squeeze but forced the unfamiliar sensation away. ‘Still, though…he was magnificent…’ Her lips twitched, fighting back the pride a mother might feel.

  “Don’t think I didn’t see that, old woman,” a deep voice murmured in her ear. She flicked her fingers at Salazar and tossed her head.

  “Get lost,” she muttered, still trying not to smile. Jezebel reached for her hand and squeezed.

  ◆◆◆

  Imentet screamed and fought against the forces pinning her, but it was fruitless. She had no physical form, and their hold over her was beyond the realm of muscle and bone. They had her soul.

  Threshers.

  Satan’s delivery boys. And she knew where she was headed.

  As the swirling heat and pain died down, she found herself left standing in the dark. The Threshers had vanished without a word. Conversation wasn’t their strong point. For a moment, there was silence. And she was afraid.

  Then, from the dark, a guttural, bestial voice rang out.

  “Hello, darling,” it said, “I have been waiting for you.” Glowing red eyes shone out from the dark, grew closer as the creature they belonged to strode towards her, completely naked.

  She shuddered in horror.

  Only a hint of beauty remained beneath the gnarled, grotesque bulk as Lucifer stepped up to his brand-new bride and smiled.

  “Oh, the pleasure you are going to give to me.” And he laughed.

  ◆◆◆

  Desirée was still shivering minutes later, even after the others had left. Axel remained at her side, arms wrapped around her, murmuring soothingly to her. The look that Lilith had given him before they departed made it clear to him that there was still much to be said, but for now, they would leave him to console the shaken woman.

  “What…what was that? What were those…things?” She eventually whispered, her voice hoarse with restrained emotions.

  “Threshers,” he said simply. “They harvest the souls of those destined for Hell. Specifically, those who have run out of time in Purgatory. The ones beyond saving.” He repressed his own shudder, realizing how close he had been to meeting the same fate. It was obvious to him now that this had been Imentet’s intention when she’d tried to lure him. Trying to steal his soul for the Dark Lord. But why? She was supposed to represent the Council. The Council was there to keep souls from making those terrible mistakes. It was why Lilith had fought so hard to get through to him, to make him realize that his salvation lay here, with this woman.

  He looked down at her now. Saw how hard she was trying to hold it together. He could see her inner strength, the immeasurable beauty of her soul. Perhaps that was why her life had been so persistently filled with spiritual vampires. They didn’t have to be demonic spirits to be drawn to her…just energy thieves so lacking in goodness that they sapped it from others around them. He thought of Jules…her brother…even her mother, the woman who had created her. It almost seemed as if she needed to diminish Desirée in order to raise her status.

  His own mother had doted on him so completely that he couldn’t comprehend that a parent would behave any other way. But then he also knew that his mother had her own problems, and they’d ultimately led to her demise. The world was a complicated place. He couldn’t understand every aspect of it, but what he could do was focus on one small part. One tiny piece of goodness that he could protect and nurture.

  Desirée.

  He needed to make sure she stayed safe. The Council needed to understand that this was his path. He had no idea how he was going to convince them, but he’d do it.

  Chapter 14

  The Council was in an uproar when Salazar, Lilith, and Jezebel returned. They brought with them a lingering stench of sulfur that confirmed all suspicions.

  “Imentet?” Cato said, somberly.

  Salazar nodded. “She is gone.”

  Calliope gave a tiny groan and buried her face in her hands. She’d known it. They’d all known it. Until that moment, there had been uncertainty over who was working against them; no way to know who was guilty, and impossible to point fingers without evidence. But they’d known there was a traitor among them.

  “She attacked the woman - Desirée, tried to get her to take her own life,” explained Lilith. Cain heaved a sigh.

  “She would have been damned,” he murmured, and Lilith nodded.

  “For some reason, Imentet was intent on taking a soul. We suspect she’d originally targeted the incubus Axel, but when that failed, she targeted his soul-caller, Desirée. Perhaps she believed that ultimately that would have resulted in his damnation too,” Lilith continued.

  “But to what end?” asked Marcia. She seldom spoke, but when she did, her words were always measured, carefully considered.

  “We have come to believe that, as the incubus, Alaric advised earlier, there is the start of a mutiny among us,” Salazar replied. “Dark forces are at work to divide our ranks. Imentet was clearly at the epicenter.”

  Lilith ran an eye over the others as he spoke, looking for any sign that someone had been complicit. Aside from a shimmering of discontented energy, nothing was immediately apparent. But something nagged at the back of her mind. This matter was not over. She knew it. Yet, confronting the Council members now would bear no fruit. She knew it would merely drive the other culprits further into hiding. She stepped up beside Salazar, a hand on his arm.

  “There are other matters to attend to,” she interrupted him, shooting a meaningful glance at him as he narrowed his eyes. “The incubus…Axel… It is time to determine his fate.”

  The others murmured.

  “Do you really think now is the time to be concentrating on this? I think we may have more important issues to worry about,” Cain said. Lilith bit back a sound of annoyance.

  ‘Damn, he’s such a miserable ass!’ she thought to herself.

  “On the contrary,” Salazar interjected on her behalf, probably because he shared similar thoughts to hers. “Now is the perfect time to consider Axel’s case. Clearly, he has been targeted – as he was on the cusp of taking the path to salvation. It’s vital that we get him on that track before anything else can go wrong. We have no idea what we’re dealing with, who else is out there aiming at him.”

  “Who’s to say there aren’t other targets in our ranks,” Cain continued.

  “There probably are,” Jezebel agreed. “But for now, we know of this one. This soul. Let’s send him to safety before it�
��s too late.”

  “Then it’s decided,” said Cato. “Summon the incubus, Axel Armstrong.”

  ◆◆◆

  Axel staggered as he found himself in the Council hall. Only moments before he’d been holding Desirée and everything inside him raged to get back. She needed him.

  “What do you want of me?” he roared. He’d never dared to be this insolent before the Council, but today was not a normal day.

  “Hush, Axel,” Lilith soothed. “We are here to help.”

  “Help?” he shouted back. “She’s down there…alone! She could be in danger right now! I have to go back!” He prowled around like a caged cougar.

  “We know this, biker,” Salazar said. “We are confident that for now, she is safe, so rest easy. However, we understand your concerns, and we share them. There’s a very strong possibility that without intervention, she may be attacked again.” At this, Axel clenched his jaw so hard, Lilith was almost sure she could hear his teeth grinding. “However, we have the same fears for you, Axel. Something must be done. Immediately.”

  Axel looked confused. “What does that mean. Are you…sending me away?” He glanced up…then slowly looked downwards, gulped. “Am I…am I being sent to one of the other places? I can’t do that! I can’t leave her!”

  “Are you saying that you would choose not to go to Heaven? That you’d rather go to her?” Calliope asked quietly.

  “I don’t think I deserve Heaven, even now. But I know she needs me. I have to go back there. Can you do that?” He turned those insanely beautiful eyes to Calliope, pleading. Any mortal woman would have melted. Calliope was barely immune either. Lilith could see the muse would fight for this man as hard as she herself had fought.

  “I vote that the biker be returned to his woman,” she spoke up.

  “So do I,” Calliope agreed, followed by a sharp nod from Jezebel.