Heaven, Hell & the Love In Between

by Downey, A. J.

  “Then this should come as no surprise to you.” He picked up my hand from where it rested on his stomach and idly entwined our fingers as he went on.

  “What the battle comes down to is simple,” he murmured, “Souls.”

  “Souls?” I asked.

  “Yes, the amount, and the strength of each soul is the deciding factor on which way the scales slide, in which direction the balance shifts. The stronger the souls, the better the outcome for whichever side can claim them.” He murmured.

  “Okay.” I said when he stopped speaking.

  “You are a strong soul Gracelyn Adams, and somewhere along the way you garnered their attentions.” He held me tighter.

  “Whose attentions?” I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer, but I was pretty sure I already knew.

  “Hell’s” he said softly and I stiffened.

  “And whose side are you on?” I asked.

  “Once I was a warrior of Lucifer’s army, but no more… I fight for the Host now, and for my redemption, but then you were put in my charge.” He said, swallowing hard.

  “What does that mean?” I asked, voice shaky.

  “It means that I am on your side, Gracelyn.” He rested his lips on my forehead as he spoke and the tension drained from my body at the fierce sincerity of his tone.

  “So the roof, my wrist…” I asked.

  “A demon’s last ditch efforts to drive you to madness, to take your own life…”

  “Ah, suicide.” I knew suicide was a sin, had been raised with the knowledge that to take your own life was a cardinal sin, and that doing so wrote you a one way ticket into Hell. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, you go directly to a world of fire and brimstone and spend an eternity in Hell.

  “So you’re saying suicides are conscripted into Hell’s army to fight against the army of Heaven?” I asked.

  “Yes, and so when it was discovered that demons were driving men mad, coercing them into despair and eventual death by their own hands… that is when heaven began fighting in a similar fashion.” He said.

  “So you’re saying you’re my guardian angel?” I asked and he barked a laugh.

  “Guardian…” he rolled the word, as if tasting it like candy. “Yes I supposed I am that but do not ever mistake me for an angel, for they are greater than I could ever be.” He sounded in awe of them. I lay still against him and tried processing all of this.

  “So what are you then?” I asked, sleep dragging at my edges. I brought my leg over his and snuggled into his side without thinking.

  “I am no Angel,” he said, voice suddenly strained and pretty soon I could feel why pressing against my inner thigh. I bit my lip and decided the best course of action would be to ignore it, mostly because I was comfortable, partially because there was no denying I was attracted to him.

  “We established that.” I said stifling a yawn.

  “Sleep, small one.” He breathed.

  “Not until you tell me what you are.” I muttered, and forced myself to stay awake. He gave an exasperated sigh.

  “I was a man once, and then I died and wasn’t a man anymore. Now please, sleep.” He pressed his lips together and would say no more, slowly letting out the breath he was holding as I slipped off into the oblivion that was sleep.

  Chapter 15

  Everyone goes through a point in their life where they wish they were special in some way. Whether it be through an accomplishment, or to be a special someone to someone, it doesn’t matter. Everyone wants to be special in some way… So why did my way have to be because my soul appeared extra tasty or looked extra sparkly to some kind of demon horde?

  For the first time since his appearance in my apartment, I had not slept well in Alaric’s presence. Twice I had woken from nightmares, and twice he had held me to him, making soothing noises, his calloused palm rubbing useless circles on my back until my breath had evened, my tears had stopped flowing and I drifted once again into restless sleep. The last time I’d woken was just before my alarm had gone off, and the first time I had seen him leave. I’d watched as he sank back into the darkness in the corner of my room, his glowing red eyes dimming into the black, the shadows lessening gradually until it was simply the corner of my bedroom again.

  I don’t think he knew I was awake. I wondered off and on throughout the day, if he had known, then would he have stayed with me?

  I had uncovered another half of a rune. This work was painstakingly slow, but it would be worth it, not just if it spelled out a connection to Volund’s ancestor either, that’s not what I meant. Whatever these runes were, whatever I could uncover enough to decipher, they would be invaluable in a historical context at constructing a clearer picture of who may have owned this sword, or the belief structure of the wielder. It could be so many things.

  Jared stopped by my bench as I finished clicking off the lights.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked and smiled a bit too eagerly.

  “Yes.” I smiled and tried not to let on how tired I was. He put out an arm and trying not to read more into it than there was I took it and we departed the workspace.

  We chatted amicably about my sword and theorized what was written on the hilt, laughing and making up silly things as we waited for our table at the little Italian place halfway between the museum and my apartment.

  “It’s probably something vulgar on par with Roman graffiti.” I surmised.

  “Speaking as a friend and not a boss, an ode to the wielder’s penis perhaps?” my eyes widened and I didn’t even bother to fight down the bubble of laughter that flowed out into an all-out riot of it. Jared laughed too, and then admitted,

  “I didn’t think it was that funny! Your reaction though, that was gold.” He was grinning and I was grinning and we were taken to our seats.

  “Honestly, I almost hope it’s our boy Volund’s ancestor’s name.” he said as we sipped our wine and waited for our food.

  “Stranger things have happened.” I said and of course my thoughts drifted to Alaric and our conversation of the night before. Stranger things indeed…

  “That was an intense thought, whatever it was. Care to share it with me?” he asked. I absently rubbed my wrist beneath its patch of Band-Aid hidden beneath my sleeve. The stitches had come out this morning but it still itched as it healed.

  “Long, long week is all.” I successfully lied and pushed back my shoulders.

  “What’s that?” Jared asked and leaned across the table, eyes focused on my chin, no not my chin, on the scale from Alaric’s mail. I brushed it absently with my fingers.

  “Guitar pick.” I lied again, and saw Jared’s eyes narrow in suspicion.

  “I didn’t know you played.” He said.

  “I don’t.” I replied, and the silence settled between us, somewhat uneasy. Our food was set between us and I smiled up to our waiter and thanked him. Jared’s eyes were still on me, rather intensely.

  “Gracelyn may I ask you a personal question?” he asked.

  I swallowed what I was chewing and looked at him square. Strong soul huh? Well I think I was about to need that strength.

  “You can ask, but I don’t promise that I will want to answer.” I gave him honestly.

  “Fair enough,” he answered, composing himself.

  “Do you not find me attractive?” he asked, and I blinked. Well Hell, that was forthright and it did deserve an honest answer. I set down my fork and folded my hands.

  “Jared, as far as men go you are very attractive, however to answer your question, no I am not attracted to you and a big part of that is because you are indeed my boss.” I waited for the hurt, or for the anger, but neither of them came. He seemed to mull this over for a long time.

  “If I may be forthright,” he said and I nodded my assent, “You are a lovely woman Gracelyn Adams.” I blushed and opened my mouth to speak but he held up his hand with a pleading look, so I shut my mouth and let him continue.

  “I am not just speaking physically, t
hough you are quite attractive to me, I mean you are lovely in that your passion for what we do captivates me. I wish to know you, all of you and if I cannot do it as your lover I am here to tell you that I wish to be there for you as a friend. Always.” He took a sip of his wine and we sat in silence for several moments.

  “Whoever captures your attentions will be a lucky man indeed.” He murmured and I blushed when my mind drifted immediately to glowing red eyes, spider silk hair and a certain carved marble physique.

  “Thank you,” I murmured at last, “Friends I can do, but I won’t do anything else, I can’t do anything romantic with you Jared. I’ve worked too hard to be where I am to flush it away with a scandal.” I leveled his gaze with mine and was overjoyed to see him smile, even if it was a little sadly.

  “Friends it is then.” He raised his glass.

  “Friends.” I said and we clinked glasses, and a weight I hadn’t known I’d been bearing lifted from my shoulders.

  Maybe life after Roxy wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe I would make new friends and even if it wasn’t the same without her, that was something yeah?

  Chapter 16

  My apartment smelled heavenly of roses when I entered it, and I remembered the lavender roses on my dining table. I went over to them, switching on my little kitchen light over the stove so I could see them. I pulled out my phone and google searched rose meanings on a whim.

  I stood still, an unpleasant creeping sensation crawling up my spine. Lavender roses did not mean an apology. I stared down at the four words and swallowed hard…

  Love at first sight.

  “Gracelyn, turn out the light.” I started, then rushed to do as Alaric asked.

  “What is wrong?” he asked, striding to me, grasping my elbows and looking me over.

  “Nothing,” I lied and plugged in my phone at the wall outlet near my counter.

  “Do not lie to me small one, I feel your unease.” I went to him abruptly and wound my arms around his waist, laying my head on his chest, the linen of his shirt coarse beneath my cheek. At five foot eight I still fit perfectly beneath his chin. The man was massive.

  “I am here, now what is it?” he asked.

  “I’m probably just overreacting like I did with Jared…” I explained about Volund and then about Jared. Alaric listened carefully to all I had to say, standing stoic, simply holding me.

  “I do not like this Jared you speak of, but I like this Volund man even less. He is ambitious and has a raider’s spirit, that which he cannot have, he will take. I do not wish you sullied.” He crushed me to him and I closed my eyes. You can sully me any day of the week and twice on Sunday thank you very much. I thought to myself.

  Alaric pulled back to look at me, face impassive and I blushed and wondered to myself, did he hear me? I stood still while he scrutinized me, his mouth pulling down in displeasure or dismay. I looked down and realized what I was wearing was the cause, black slacks, charcoal blouse and a black cardigan.

  “I should go change.” I said.

  “I shall draw you a bath.” He said.

  “A shower would be quicker.” I said to his retreating back.

  “Yes, but I wish to draw you a bath.” He said over his shoulder before disappearing into my tiny bathroom. The sound of my claw foot tub filling filtered out to me. I went in to my bedroom and selected a light mint green satin night gown from the drawer and turned to see Alaric watching me from the door way. His arms were crossed and he leaned against the door frame nonchalantly, one boot propped on its toes in front of the other leg. I smiled at how relaxed he looked.

  “So what are you going to do while I’m in there?” I asked.

  “Join you,” was his short and very serious reply. I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. Maybe he had heard my thoughts.

  “Okay,” I whispered, laying the nightgown on the end of my bed.

  I hung up my cardigan while he took off his boots. I chewed my lower lip a moment and unthreaded the slender black belt from my slacks, hanging it on its peg at the side of my closet. He was working his shirt over his head and I was suddenly glad all my bras and underwear were lacy and pretty, one of those confidence boosters, you know? I peeled out of my blouse, reached down and unzipped my boots, stepping out of them and peeling off my socks. I slid my slacks down my legs and stepped out of them tossing the entire bundle in my hamper which resided half hidden by hanging clothes in my closet. Alaric was watching me, stoic and unreadable, hands frozen at the ties on his leathers.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “I am a man still.” Was his hushed reply. He shook his head as if waking from a dream and peeled out of the leather pants. I didn’t bother to hide my confusion, but decided to let it go because honestly the only thing that sounded better than a bath right now, was a bath with Alaric. I was suddenly glad of the large old claw foot because honestly, it had a hope of accommodating both of us. For once it was going to be a boon, usually its size meant that I would just spend that much more time cleaning the thing.

  I tossed my bra and panties into the laundry and fetched clean towels out of the hall closet, clutching them to my front. His hands descended on my shoulders.

  “Do not hide from me small one.” He murmured and the tension in my shoulders eased. His hands slid from my shoulders, caressing down my arms before leaving my skin, a pleasant tingling was left in their wake as if my skin had come alive from his touch.

  I set the towels on the closed lid of my john and heard the water slosh as he got into the tub. I turned around and he was settled holding out a hand to me. I took one of my arms off from covering my chest and let him help me down in between his legs, leaning back into him, the water rising dangerously but not quite to spilling over from the displacement of our bodies. I turned off the tap with my foot, and lay back against him.

  His hands drifted to my shoulders and kneaded the tight muscles along my neck. I groaned in pure bliss, and closed my eyes.

  “This is nice.” I murmured and my voice came out huskier than I intended.

  “Agreed.” The bass rumble from his chest vibrated along my spine and things gave a pleasurable little throb low in my body. I let him turn me to pudding, and sighed in contentment which I was surprised he echoed.

  “When did you die?” I asked quietly.

  “Hmm, long, long ago. I understand your modern calendar now, someone explained it.” His arms crossed over my chest and he cradled me against him.

  “So how long ago?” I asked. He was so evasive.

  “It was around your year 984.” He said and my breath stilled in my lungs… The late tenth century.

  “How?” I asked.

  “In battle,” he said impatiently and I swallowed any further questions for now.

  “I see.”

  “You have many questions small one, why can I not simply enjoy the time I have with you?” he asked and I cocked my head to the side, craning my neck back as far as it would go to look up at him looking down at me.

  “How come you never ask any questions about me?” I asked.

  “I have watched you for a very long time. I do not believe there is anything I do not know about you.” He said quietly.

  “Oh yeah? What’s my favorite flavor of ice cream?” I asked and he quirked an eyebrow.

  “My favorite color?” I asked, and his lips quirked in a smile, but he didn’t answer.

  “See you don’t know everything.” I said matter of factly.

  “I know what matters. I know the beauty you harbor within yourself, that is only a fraction of what is reflected on the outside. I know your passion for your work, the depth of feeling you have for those around you. I know you are bold and unafraid to wear your heart on your sleeve. There are many times you could have been broken, should have been broken but you are resilient. A true warrior spirit. I admire you Gracelyn Adams, I see you for who you really are.”

  I didn’t know what to say. My eyes misted with his beautiful words and truthfull
y, I didn’t feel worthy of such praise but there it was, and ever the polite daughter my parents and grandparents raised me to be I said the only thing that came to mind.

  “Thank you. You’re being too kind.” His eyebrows raised and he chuckled.

  “Kind is something I have never been accused of being.” He stated and heaved a sigh.

  “Are you ready to get out?” I asked.

  “No. Are you?”

  “No,” and so we stayed until the water grew tepid and I was all but a prune.

  Chapter 17

  I wrapped a towel around my hair after stepping out of the shower. After the tub had drained I’d showered to get my hair clean. Alaric had stood in the bathroom doorway and we’d talked, he’d asked me what ice cream was. I’d spent the time soaping, rinsing and conditioning my hair explaining in great detail how ice cream was made and how different things could be added to it to make it different flavors. He’d stood there mystified and that had tickled me to no end.

  “So what is your favorite flavor?” he asked nonchalantly and I grinned.

  “I thought it didn’t matter.” I teased, slipping my nightgown over my head, letting the towel fall from beneath it. Modesty preserved. All though it was probably a moot point seeing as I’d just taken a bath with him and he’d been nude in my bed with me for almost a week now.

  “It does not, but I am curious now.” He pulled back the blankets on my bed and I got in.

  “Black Cherry Amaretto, Hagen Das makes it.” I said climbing in.

  “What is Amaretto?” he asked sliding in beside me.

  “An Italian liqueur.” I answered, then asked, “What do you like?”

  “Venison and mead, bread warm from the hearth.” He settled and raised his arm so that I could cuddle close in what was becoming our typical fashion. I yawned and settled against him.

  “What was it like?” I asked, “Way back then?” unable to suppress my curiosity anymore.

  “It was then as it is now, brutal…” he began. I listened to him as he spoke of harsh winters in a new settlement, of life under rule of his father and of battles fought and lives lost over greed and honor. It was fascinating as well as sorrowful and horrific. To listen first hand to a person’s accounting of conditions left me feeling both low and utterly grateful to be born in the 20th century and a part of the 21st.