Unchained Desire

by R. C. Alvarez

  Then his smile faded. “I’m sorry I can’t find your dad.”

  “Oh, David. Don’t worry about it. I’ll find him.” She attempted another smile, hoping she sounded confident. “No matter what.”

  “I tried again. I think he is in trouble. It’s a horrible place and I think it’s deep in the ground. There are demons all around him.”

  A chill swept over her. “David, you have to promise me you won’t try to find him yourself.” Her voice hardened with worry.

  He puffed up like Superman, his voice ringing out with conviction. “I might be a kid, but I can help.”

  “I know you can help. You’re very gifted. It has nothing to do with your age. When I use my powers, I get weak. Yesterday I used mine, and if Ram hadn’t been there, I would have died. People love us and need us. We can’t do this alone. Okay? Promise me you won’t look for my father alone.”

  He closed the book and gave his attention to Buddy. “I promise. I just wish I could do more. Why can’t I flash like you guys?”

  “You’re only ten. Though, maybe you’ll learn sooner than you think.” She grinned at him. “But you have everything you need right here. Where would you even flash?”

  “Anywhere but here. Sometimes it gets so crazy with all the other kids, and I want to fly. To run. I don’t know. I just need to go somewhere else. Where no one can bother me.” For once, his voice trembled. He plucked at the line of his socks.

  “David…” Guilt hit her like a bag of bricks. Not just for her using David to find her dad like he was some locating tool, but for judging Ramiel.

  God, that wild look in Ram’s eyes when he broke the chains. She’d been so happy for him, but for Ram it must have been overwhelming.

  After more than a century without being able to fly or flash, having that back had to mess with his mind. Somehow, she had done that. Her blood set him free and put his system into shock.

  A sense of urgency filled her. Her heart raced, and a hard edge of determination sharpened her focus.

  “David, if you could locate Ram, do you think I could flash where you see?”

  Confusion twisted his cherubic features. “I don’t see why not, but no one has tried that before. After I find someone, Eli goes and gets them.” He lowered his head, whispering, “Well, I tried it once when I looked for my mom by myself and thought I found her, but it didn’t work.”

  She pulled the boy and hedgehog into her lap and hugged them both. “David, your mother wants you to be safe. I know she loves you. You have powers so much greater than your years. I can’t imagine how hard that is, but you’re also still young. Don’t rush this. I’m still learning about mine, too. You have a family that loves you and they’re here to not only protect you, but to help you as you grow.”

  “Bishop said I wasn’t tall enough yet. I asked how tall I needed to be, and he said tall enough that the sheep could see me. What does that mean?”

  She chuckled. “With Bishop, there’s no telling. But I think that was his way of saying you needed to grow some more before you take on so much responsibility.”

  He nodded, then sat back. “You want to see if we can find Mister Ram?”

  “I think he needs me.”

  Scooting from her lap, he crossed his legs and held out his hands. “It is easier when I have someone to hold on to.”

  “Good. And David, if this does not work, it’s okay.”

  Wisdom way beyond his years shone out from his eyes. “Ram needs you. He is big and strong, but he needs you even if he acts like he doesn’t.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking.”

  He closed his eyes. She leaned in closer, her pulse racing. Where are you, Ram?

  Her vision wavered. The room faded away. About twenty minutes went by in darkness and silence. Then David appeared in her mind. He sat outside in a vast land of green hills, rolling in gentle slopes. Not the Texas Hill Country. She blinked, trying to figure out what she was seeing as her heart thundered loudly in her chest.

  “David, I think I’m seeing your vision. It’s very green and empty. There’s a large house at the end of a long dirt road.”

  “That’s what I see, too. You can see what I’m seeing?” He squeezed her hands. “I think Ram is in the house. Come on, walk with me.”

  No gravity weighing her down, she floated next to him while he neared the house. He beamed. “I’ve never had anyone walk with me in one of my trips. This is nice.”

  “I could have gone with you when you looked for my father.”

  “That would be nice. We can try again now that we know this. Do you think it’s because we both have the mark?”

  “Could be. Can people see or hear us?”

  “Not most of the time. When I was in that ice room, I think some of the tiny demons could. But they seem kinda stupid.”

  “I see.” In an instant they stood in front of the steps to a large, wraparound porch.

  David nodded. “Ramiel is inside.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  One of several imps ran across Nema’s polished leather boot, leaving ugly marks on the toe. “Look, lady Nema. Back and forth. Around and around. Stupid swinging angel. It’s starting to vomit.”

  One spiked heel through the bubbly flesh and the rambling demon popped with a shriek. She sighed and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. “It’s so hard to find good help these days. Don’t you think, Darius?”

  Blood splattered across the floor of her second favorite torture chamber with each of his coughs.

  Her most favorite chamber was empty, waiting for the return of Rammy. One day… One more long day left.

  There had to be a way to renegotiate that stupid contract. Seven days was too long to be without the archangel blood. Right now, she had to deal with her ex. So unworthy.

  Darius leaked from everywhere. Each organic orifice, plus some extra holes she had added, oozed blood. Hanging her playthings upside down like this always put her in a good mood, but it wasn’t working today. The chain that kept his arms tied to his sides while he swung from the ice ceiling by his raw ankles glittered pleasantly.

  “Just kill me. You’ll never find my daughter,” he croaked.

  “My daughter! She’s mine, and I will have her.” Her power drill skewered his side as she pulled the trigger. The jagged metal created another narrow gap in his flesh, but he just groaned. That stubborn jaw of his clenched.

  The coppery tang of his angel blood in the air pleased her. “You know, the last time I drilled you was way more fun.” Her laughter sounded like happy music to her ears, so she laughed again.

  Hunger and joy had her leaning over to lick and kiss his bloody cheek. Oh, just one little bite. His blood wasn’t as rich or as powerful as Ram’s, so she let it drip to mix with the imp’s remains on the ice below. Her pets needed nourishment.

  He was almost empty, though, and she didn’t have her answers yet. “Don’t worry. Everything will be all right. I made some calls and a doctor will arrive shortly.”

  More blood dripped from his mouth through teeth stained red. “That’s how it is now? Lilith never needs help.” He dared to glare at her with his bloodshot eyes even as he bled out right in front of her. “You’re falling behind, Naamah. Soon enough, if you’re not careful, your failures will catch up to you. And your sister will have it all.”

  An initial spike of fear ran through her at the mention of her sister, leaving a bitter taste on her tongue and locking her body in place. Then rage overflowed, and something within tried to boil free. She bared her teeth in a vicious grin. “You know all about failure, don’t you?”

  Heart racing, she set the drill aside and grabbed a hard leather whip knotted with rusty nails. But before she raised her arm to crack it, someone cleared their throat behind her.

  She turned to face her new visitor, studying the creepy little human wrapped in demonic power, given to her as a reward for her services to the demon lord bastard in Peru.

  “Took you long enough, Sor
a. Darius here is about to fade out.” Nema smirked while she spoke.

  The witch stepped forward. She wore her usual bird-shaped gas mask, her anorexic body shrouded in earthy robes that somehow made Nema uneasy.

  But the woman worked for Asmodeus, Nema’s new business partner, so she’d asked him for this first favor to test the waters. He claimed the witch’s magic came from Lucifer himself, gifted with knowledge and powers other demon lords envied. Not even Lilith can force answers out of an unwilling angel that refused to give in to physical pain and fear.

  Nema pushed Darius with a stiff index finger, and he swung a couple inches away, chains squeaking. His grunts of pain elicited a smile.

  “Good to see you, too, Nema. But I’m in a hurry.” Sora shuffled closer, opening the mysterious carpet bag she brought with her.

  “I need him to heal just a bit, and I need information out of him. He stole something from me a long time ago and hid it. Can you give him some kind of…truth serum?” She flicked her long nails at the woman. “Whatever you hags use these days.”

  “Yes. That is the least of my powers.” The witch made a show of pulling items out of the bag, listing each one and their side effects. She was trying to impress.

  Nema sighed, feigning boredom. One of her best facades. Better than her stupid sister. She was better at a lot of things, but no one ever cared.

  Waving her hand dismissively, as queens did, she lifted her chin. “Get it done.” With that command, she stepped back to give Sora room.

  “Open up, Darius,” Sora ordered, while she pulled out a vial of oily black fluid and popped the cork out with a flick of her thumb. She poured all of the contents over his wounded abdomen. It was thick and gooey.

  At a snail’s pace, it trailed all the way down. Some of it sought the darkness of his nostrils. It carried a scent of something from deep within the bowels of hell that Nema never wanted to experience again.

  “Satan’s tits.” She held a hand over her nose. “What is that?”

  “A little trick I learned along the way. Opens the most resistant minds, like clearing the sinuses. A quick peek inside.” Sora leaned in and took a long sniff as Darius sputtered for dear life, going pale. “It’s also great for hangovers.”

  Is that a joke? “Right. Well, is it working?” She dropped her hand and crossed her arms, rolling her tongue to make sure her teeth were still flat and even. She grew impatient.

  Darius screamed as his skin on the edges of the gaping wounds reached across and closed.

  “Let’s see.” Sora grunted a few times. Then she dipped two fingers in the vial and painted a small symbol across Darius’ bare stomach with the black ooze. “Fascinating.”

  “What?” Nema took one step forward, itching to know what was so damn interesting. “What do you see?”

  “I’ve managed to pull out some information you might find useful.”

  “And?” She was ready to cut the bitch if the witch didn’t start talking.

  “A redheaded Nephilim named Kyria. She is of his seed and was taken from this place.”

  “That’s her.” She snapped, “Where is she?”

  “There’s a strong ward she wears that Darius gave to her to keep her hidden. She’s a healer. Darius suspects she is currently with an angel named Ramiel.”

  “What? Oh no. He thinks he can…” Nema tried not to completely explode. She held herself together, literally, clutching her face so it wouldn’t fall apart. She should have known.

  “That’s all you have? Kyria is with Ram?”

  “Yes. She is behind a wall of salt.” Sora tossed the vial into her bag and snapped it shut. “That’s it.”

  “Then leave.”

  “I’ll bill you later.” Another joke? Dark witches are so fucking weird.

  Sora morphed into black smoke and disappeared up through the ceiling. It freaked Nema out the way the human witch traveled like a demon. But she didn’t have time to bite her nails over it.

  There were far more important things to deal with. Like a brooding fallen angel who kept chewing off more than he could swallow.

  Nema sighed and stroked her face before patting at her hair, tilting her chin up as she collected herself. “So, your stolen treasure is hanging out with my bloody power supply. He will be back soon, and I will have them both.” She pushed the angel with one finger. Like a pendulum, he ticked back and forth. “Time is running out for you. Failures suck, don’t they Darius?”

  A coughing fit seized him for several minutes. Finally finished, he closed his eyes and groaned. “Stay away from her.”

  She laughed, tension crumbling away. “It all makes sense now. I couldn’t see him before. It seemed so random. I thought maybe he was hiding inside a salt factory or something. But no, it was that precious daughter.” She trailed a claw down his ribs, loving the shudder it drew from him. “Oh Darius. You kept her safe, and now she is ready for our destiny. She is going to be mine again, just in time. Couldn’t have worked out better. Thank you.” She used her drill to make another hole in his thigh, blood splattering freely.

  He didn’t beg like she wanted. He dared to snarl, and it pissed her off. She would fill him with so many—

  The walls shook. Her bracelets, arranged from the bones of Ram’s wings, tightened then fell to the ground in pieces, clattering across the blood. “No.” Falling to her knees she tried to gather the precious material as it threatened to crumble in her fingers. It was her control over the archangel. Why would it break? Unless…

  No. No. No. Not now. She was so close to having everything she needed.

  Not missing a single shard, she picked each piece and put them in her bra. “I’m coming, Ramiel. I’m coming.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Thirty minutes ago

  Ramiel stretched the new wings as far as the untested muscles would allow and plunged into another nose dive from the edge of the Grand Canyon. Thankfully, this section was closed for the winter. He was alone. No eyes to witness the miracle of his resurrected power. A million thoughts swarmed his brain, but for now he just wanted the splendor of flight, of freedom.

  He had given up hope of ever taking to the air again. The power unleashed within his body was a long-forgotten friend.

  Kyria had done this. Her blood was stronger than the chains forged in Hell. Her mark was now on his palm, too. Bishop had spoken of fated mates. But what the hell did that shit even mean?

  Spreading his arms, he tilted his head back and let it all go.

  Eyes closed, free-falling in the light of the setting sun, cold, dry wind cut through every doubt and fear the demon queen ever ignited within him. Never again would he enter Nema’s den of ice.

  He opened his eyes. A small spot of flames on the canyon floor caught his attention. I didn’t sense any human souls when I first flashed here. But a large bush was definitely burning, blue flames dancing in the center.

  Dread gripped Ramiel’s gut. A man sitting at the campfire waved to him, dressed like the prospectors that used to mine the canyon over a hundred years ago, when he had fallen for Nema’s hoax. Was this just an illusion? Had Nema found a new way to mess with him?

  Thirty feet from hitting the ground, he expanded his wings to ensure they were real.

  “Ram. Stop acting like a newbie and get down here.” The prospector was Bishop.

  Not ready to tuck his wings away, he landed behind the crazy angel, both feathered masses arching out at full length.

  “I see you have a little color added to your feathers. Looks good. Forgot how majestic yours were. Some of the biggest out there.” He blew out the flames on a marshmallow and pulled it off the skewer using graham squares. Chocolate dripped down his hand. He licked it off, and with happy sigh, his eyes closed briefly. “This is good stuff.” He held it out to Ram. “Want one?”

  Ram glared at the strange being. “You said Kyria would save me.”

  “I did. I did.” He took a bite out of his gooey mess.

  “Why did you not
just tell us the power to restore my wings was in her blood? I could have rid myself of the chains the minute she came into the bar.”

  “But we learn more by self-discovery. Plus, you got to score in a very loving way. You deserved that after your stay at Hotel Nema. And Kyria needs a guardian angel like you. It’s going to be a hard road for her ahead.”

  Long shadows crawled across the canyon. Ram rubbed his hands over his face. So many options. He had to make decisions that could change other people’s lives.

  Bishop rolled his eyes up and groaned as he ate the campfire treat. “So sweet.”

  Shaking his head, Ram tried to control the riot of confusion pinging inside his skull. The impossible had just happened, and he didn’t know where to start. He stood closer to the burning bush.

  The warmth caressed his skin. It had been so long since he stood in the presence of their Mother’s love, and his eyes burned. Maybe he was just imagining it.

  Bishop grinned at him. “How about some pants? I mean, you’re glorious and all, but there are things out here that bite, and you don’t want to burn any bits. Ky would not be happy.” He laughed at his own lame joke.

  Ram growled, but Bishop ignored him and raised an eyebrow. Jeans and boots quickly covered him. No shirt, but who cared? “What’s with the burning bush? A little old school, don’t you think?”

  Bishop shrugged. “I miss the old days. So much simpler. It was easier to sort the bad from the good.” He sighed and put another marshmallow on his skewer, rambling on. “I don’t know what to do with you. I still see so many options. So many paths. Now that your wings are back, you have choices.” He sat on a boulder and beheld the sky as the mallow roasted. “I’m beyond tired, and you have deals to make and hearts to break.”

  “With who?” Would he hurt Kyria if he stayed?

  Bishop slid the now charred marshmallow into another graham cracker sandwich. “She will gain everything because of you. Or lose it all.”

  Folding his wings, Ram went down on his haunches in front of Bishop. “What do I need to do?”