Hell's Redemption- The Complete Series Boxset

by Grace McGinty

  I rubbed circles on his back. “Sorry Ads.” I felt Gusion’s presence, and looked over Adnan’s head to see him standing in the corner, still incorporeal. “I’m tired. I might try and get some sleep, okay?” I murmured distractedly against Adnan’s shoulder.

  “Sure thing,” he said, leaning forward and kissing my forehead. “Sleep tight. You are at your quota for drama this year. No more fainting or anything, got it?”

  I smiled. “My pleasure.”

  As soon as he left, shutting the door softly, Gus became visible. He walked over and slid into bed beside me. His wings took up half the bed, and tickled my arm. “What happened? I’ve been around long enough, and had enough mortal wounds to know that wasn’t caused by your current injuries.”

  “No.”

  “You know, when I was an angel, my ability was to determine a person's past, present and future. Even my fellow angels. But you, you are a blank to me. A mystery. It’s like your future is your own. As if God has no divine plan for you, because you weren’t meant to exist. You are outside natures plan.”

  “You sound like Azriel. Next you’ll be calling me a soulless abomination.”

  “Azriel?” Gusion’s eyebrows got impossibly high. “What do you know of Azriel?”

  “Long story. So, is that what you are saying? That I have no soul?

  Gus waved a hand in the air above us. “No. Obviously not. I can sense it in there, glowing with angelic light, wrapped around your humanity like a protective shield. No, what I am saying is that there is something about you that makes you different. Something that made you literally lose consciousness when you touched me.” He looked at me with deep whiskey-colored eyes. “Yeah, I didn’t miss the cause of your fainting spell.”

  I couldn’t tell him why I’d passed out. I’d felt him. Gusion had been the reason they had all fallen. He was so, so desperately sad. And guilty. The guilt of their circumstances, of their fates, ate away at him like a festering wound.

  “Maybe I was just overwhelmed by your sheer attractiveness? Or maybe it was low blood sugar. It's fine, either way.”

  He made a rude noise, calling my bluff, but I stuck to my explanation. It was better than the alternative. Sorry, you are so fucked up emotionally that you literally shut down my system.

  Apparently, I was collecting the damaged, the self-loathing and the angry. Some people collected Beanie Babies, but not me.

  “Fine. You will tell me in your own time. But do not be mistaken, you will tell me eventually.” His voice dropped. “Because I’m irresistible.”

  I laughed even as I rolled my eyes. “Annoying, maybe.”

  “You should sleep,” he whispered, his own eyes already closing.

  “Sleeping in bed with me is a little presumptuous, don’t you think?” I asked, though deep down I was glad he was there.

  “I am meant to be guarding your body.” I raised a single brow. “I find I don’t want to be alone tonight,” he said, his voice muffled by the pillow as he rolled onto his stomach. His wings slid over me, almost like a downy blanket. He was probably right. I should sleep.

  Instead, I gave into the same curiosity that made children poke things in power points even when they knew it was dangerous. I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder and tried to read him again.

  I was better prepared for it this time, for the unrelenting wave of sadness and guilt. Touching him, I couldn’t hear his thoughts like I could a human, but I could get a clearer read on his emotions. There’d been a woman, that much I could tell, because he mourned her still, millennia later. Another angel, maybe? I could feel all the emotions snarled together like invasive vines tangling around his heart. He still felt guilty for defying his Father’s orders. But there was still love, so much love, but it was a faded love. Anger, grief, guilt. They were like nesting dolls, all inside each other, a wound that wouldn't heal. I wished I could take some of his pain, give him a moment of real happiness. His happy face hid the deep, soul-rending pain.

  “What are you doing, Child of Acerezeal?” Gusion’s voice was husky. I realized my hand was rubbing up and down his bicep as I read him. Whoops.

  “Trying to chase away your sadness,” I said, hoping he would take it at face value.

  “I’m in bed with a beautiful woman, why would I be sad?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused. I bit my tongue to stop myself from spilling my secret. Again. I trusted the Fallen. Ace and Luc loved me, and Memphis was already keeping my secret. Gusion loved his fellow Fallen, there was no other reason he’d feel so much guilt otherwise. But I still couldn’t tell him.

  So I smiled at him instead and moved my hand away. “Just a feeling. Sleep well, Gus.” I rolled onto my stomach beneath his wing, and listened to his breathing slow. I watched his face relax into the innocence of sleep, and I hoped I was chasing away his nightmares.

  Several hours later, my leg was numb and I still wasn't asleep. I hadn’t told anyone, but I was still having trouble sleeping. Every time I drifted off, I saw that last moment. The smoke from the gun, JJ’s body going down. But now, when the smoke cleared, it was Blue holding the gun, not the nameless men who actually abducted me.

  About midnight, I’d had enough. I was uncomfortable and I was more awake than ever.

  Gus had curled his wings against his back again, so I slid from the bed.

  Maybe a glass of warm milk with a dash of vanilla might help. Papa, Valery I mean, would make it for me when I was a kid and couldn't sleep. Val was always up early making bread. I didn’t make it often now, but when I did, it was as nostalgic as it was comforting. It was like I was home again, listening to Papa’s French accent as he told me stories or recipes or sang me antiquated French nursery rhymes. I turned on the light over the stove and got out a saucepan. Filling it with milk, I set it to gently simmer.

  “It’s the witching hour, so it seems fitting you’d be awake.”

  I let out a little squeak, dropping my bottle of vanilla extract. Azriel darted forward, catching it before the glass bottle smashed on the tiles of the kitchen floor.

  “Jesus fucking H. Christ, Azriel! What the hell were you thinking, sneaking up on me like that?” I whisper-shouted at him. I didn’t want to wake Gus or Adnan.

  “I didn’t sneak. I appeared. I announced my presence.”

  I wanted to strangle him as my heart thudded in my chest. What kind of Neanderthal snuck up on a woman alone at night after she’d been through a traumatic experience?

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Azriel? My apartment must have moved onto the Highway to Heaven and I just didn’t realize.” The fear was making me pissed off.

  “You’ve bewitched another one, I see?” He was looking through my open bedroom door at Gus spread out on my bed. Great bodyguard, that one. “And in your bed already. Fitting, that Gusion of the Fallen would find his way into the bed of an abomination.”

  Rage surged up in my chest. “Look, you bag of dicks, I’m tired, hurting, and I don’t have time for your holier than thou bullshit. Why are you here?”

  “I like watching the animals in their natural habitat.”

  Oh.

  Oh no, he didn’t.

  “Get out of my apartment, before I wake Gusion and he kicks your ass.”

  Azriel laughed. “I can take the former Angel of the Fate.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Fine. Get out of here before I call Ace. She is not your biggest fan right now.”

  This time Azriel blanched a little. I didn’t blame him, Ace in a rage was scary as, well, hell.

  “I am sorry. I did not mean to offend you.”

  I let out an unflattering noise. “Oh? Is calling someone a zoo animal some kind of angelic version of flirting?”

  A flush lit his cheeks, and I raised my eyebrows. He was a disco ball of anger, confusion, and something I couldn’t quite label. I thought I had every emotion known to man catalogued, that I’d felt it all.

  I needed to remember I wasn’t dealing with a man.
I stared at the snowy white wings on his back to reinforce the thought. Azriel was the enemy. He wasn't one of Luc’s Fallen. He had literally tried to kill me at birth. I should kick his ass out the door, and never let him back in. Call Ace like I threatened.

  Instead, I poured half of my milk into a second mug, adding a drop of the rescued of vanilla. I stirred it gently.

  “Why are you not asleep?” His voice was soft, losing the arrogance that grated against me so badly.

  “Nightmares.” I handed him the mug, and he looked at it like it was a rattlesnake. I took a sip of mine, proving that I hadn’t poisoned it, though I wasn’t sure you could kill an angel with arsenic, or whatever people used to poison their husbands.

  He took a sip, then looked into his mug as if there was a mystery at the bottom. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s warm milk,” I said slowly. “Oh, and there's a hint of vanilla.”

  He rolled his eyes at me, and I resisted the urge to laugh at the human gesture on all that angelic perfection.

  “I understand the beverage. I do not understand your nightmares.”

  I moved toward the living room, away from the hall to the bedrooms. Azriel followed behind me, his wings held high and tight to his back. His perfectly porcelain skin should have made him look feminine, but instead her just looked unerringly majestic. Almost luminescent in the soft light of the living room. He shone with the soft glow of what I assumed was probably angelic light, but it seemed all a bit fluffy.

  I settled onto the couch, but Azriel continued to stand. “Explain.”

  I sighed. “Please.”

  “What?”

  “Explain, please. Good manners is not a concept reserved only for humans, especially when you want me to do something for you.”

  His head tipped a little to the side, and then he nodded. But he didn't say please. That was a battle for another day.

  “I have nightmares because I have post-traumatic stress disorder.” I winced saying it out loud. I know it shouldn't, but it made me feel weak.

  “It is over, yet it still hurts you.” I nodded as he repeated my words back at me. The fact he listened to what I had said back in the hospital made me feel almost proud.

  Azriel was silent as he contemplated my words, sipping occasionally at his warm milk. I tried to hide my smile. I let my thoughts drift to everything and nothing, to Memphis and our kiss, and Gus and his tragicness. To Blue, the Lost Boy. To Rella, and her crusade that was literally keeping me up at night.

  “You have humans for that.”

  Azriel’s voice startled me from thoughts. “What?”

  “For your traumatic post stress disorder. You have humans that help with that.”

  I thought about the welfare worker at the hospital and screwed up my nose. “I don’t do well with therapists.”

  “There is no one you can talk to about this? Family? Friends? The Father?” His lip curled. “Lucifer?”

  I couldn’t help it. I honked out a laugh before slapping a hand over my mouth, sucking in deep breaths. “Did you just suggest I talk to the Devil about my feelings?” The ridiculousness made me laugh harder, and Azriel’s disapproving face just compounded the problem.

  “He is a kind of parental figure, is he not?” He sounded peevish now, and I did my best to rein in my giggles.

  Clearing my throat, I took a deep breath, but the smile refused to leave my face. “Sure. But he’s the kind of family that you talk to about having someone killed, not about your feelings.” The idea was a little ridiculous really. Luc, and to a lesser degree Ace, were creatures of action, not emotion. They were the spirit of vengeance, the judge, jury and executioner for your immortal soul. Not someone to hold your hand and kiss your boo-boos.

  “You have me for that now.”

  Now it was my turn to look confused. “To have someone killed?” He looked at me like I was stupid, his lips pursed as he shook his head. “You mean to talk about my feelings with?”

  He nodded, and I held my breath in fear I would say the wrong thing. This was a fragile kind of connection. I had a feeling that what I said next would forever change the immortal creature in front of me. I wanted it to be for the better.

  “I’d like that,” I said, even though the idea of sharing my deepest fears with an angel who had the emotional range of an eggplant seemed insane.

  His lips twitched. “He wakens.” He looked longingly at the bedroom, and I felt the overwhelming wave of sadness from him. What had gone on with the Fallen and the Angel of Death that caused so much pain and anger on both sides? I looked toward the door, and Gusion stepped out, jeans slung low on his hips, gold dipped wings dragging on the ground like a sleepy child. When I turned back toward Azriel, he was gone.

  Chapter Eight

  “Get up.”

  I looked away from my TV soap opera and at Gus.

  “But Sophia is about to tell Stephan that she loves him, and that baby is really Slade’s,” I whined, and he gave me a disgusted look as he switched off the television.

  “You aren’t sleeping.”

  I said nothing, picking at my nails.

  “You refuse to leave the apartment to even go to the office.”

  Shame welled up in my chest, but still I said nothing. What could I say? That the idea of leaving the apartment fills me with dread?

  “We are going to the movies. And then wherever else I feel like going, until we get back the confident woman that seems to have gone on hiatus.” He knelt down in front of me, forcing me to look at him. “I know you are scared, and the others might be happy to just let you wallow and wrap you in cotton wool to keep you safe. But they are suffocating your light. And I refuse to let that happen. So get some pants on,” he sighed heavily. “I didn’t think I’d ever say that to a beautiful woman, but this is what we are reduced to, me begging a woman to get dressed.”

  He pulled me to my feet, and I grimaced at the sight of my pajama pants and my sweatshirt with a cute kitten on it.

  “It's already one in the afternoon. Maybe we should go to the movies tomorrow.”

  “No. Now go.” Gus pushed me toward my bedroom. “Fifteen minutes, and then I’m coming in to dress you myself. Actually, take your time,” he winked, and I blushed even as I rolled my eyes.

  But I still hurried, I didn’t trust the Gus wouldn’t be good to his word. There was something dangerous and wild in his eyes today, and a little part of me that I didn’t know existed thrilled at the idea of being a little wild with him.

  I threw on a pretty green sundress that skimmed mid-thigh and left my arms bare. It made my hair shine like burnished garnets.

  Sliding my feet into simple gold sandals, I was ready in fourteen minutes. I laughed when I walked out and saw Gus staring at our wall clock. He looked over his shoulder and pouted. “Dammit.” He grinned and it was like a punch to the chest. “Let’s go. I have plans to help you recover your inner BAMF.”

  “BAMF?”

  “Bad ass motherfucker. Grab your ID. And maybe a trench coat, because damn you look hot in that dress.” He made an mmph noise and I laughed. His enthusiasm was infectious, but still, I hesitated at doorway. He took my hand and pulled me across the threshold and into his arms. I was acutely aware that I was pressed along the rigid length of his body, the hard muscles of his chest under my hands. “I’ve got you, Hope. I won’t let anything bad happen. Memphis would kill me, have Luc resurrect me, just so Ace could murder me again.” He tucked an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “Besides, I’m kind of fond of you when you aren’t watching crappy daytime television. Now, let's go.”

  He must have called my car service while I was in the shower, because Reggie, my regular driver was waiting for us in the carpark.

  “It’s good to see you, Miss.” Reggie’s emotions pulsed with sincerity, and I teared up. Then he looked at Gus, and sadness colored them blue. He thought Gus was JJ’s replacement. I felt guilty all over again that I’d never even gone to see JJ’s wife and kids. I’
d just forgotten my friend in the wake of my own problems.

  “Enough, Hope. Today is not a day for self-loathing and survivors guilt. Today is a day for reconnecting with your old self.” He nudged me through the car door, and slid in after me. Reggie drove out of the car park and into the mid-afternoon traffic with ease.

  “Where to first?” I asked, smoothing down my dress. Gus’s eyes followed the motion.

  He cleared his throat. “First stop is the movies. Nice and simple.”

  The look in his eye made me wonder if anything he did was ever nice or simple. We sat in silence for the car ride to the local cinema, and as I slid from the car, I felt a little overdressed for the movies in the middle of the day on a Tuesday. The soccer moms and the old age pensioners were certainly casting me strange looks. Or maybe that was just the effect of Gus, with his long hair and overt masculinity. He was a bit of a contradiction to the average person.

  We picked the latest rom-com over the action movie, and Gus got two large popcorns and drinks the size of a barrel. I didn’t know where he was getting his cash from, none of the Fallen worked in the traditional sense, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

  As we slid into the back row of the cinema, Gus pulled a huge flask from waistband of his jeans. “Whiskey?”

  “In here?” I hissed back, and he grinned. Yep, he was the poster boy for hell, alright. “I’m pretty sure it’s against the rules.”

  But I grinned and popped the lid of my cup. He poured a very liberal amount in, and swirled it around with a straw.

  I leaned in close, and tried to ignore how good Gus smelled. “Ten bucks says couple right down front are on their first date, but she feels guilty because she still loves her former lover,” I whispered.