Heaven to Hell (A Naughty Box Production Book 1)

by Rue Volley

  “Count, Levi. One, you can’t help but feed.” He does one quick path over his body, starting with his face and working his way down to his toes, “Two, you are not dirty.” Levi lathers his hands again and repeats the same circuit much slower this time, “Three, it’ll all be over one day.” This time he stands, just letting the water wash it all away, “Four, you’re not your father.” Levi’s breathing calms as he repeats this to himself three times over.

  I want to reach out to Levi and wrap him in my arms and wings. I want to tell him that he is strong and he is not alone. Levi leans his forehead against the tile, with his shoulders hunched over, and he shudders. Even though this moment is one of anguish, it instills more strength in my hope for Leviathan, son of Malacoda.

  For the first time in my two thousand heavenly years of life, I will be amongst the human populace. I will be a shade closer to Levi. Can I remain strong enough to not reach out and touch him? Will I stop myself from going corporal so that I may feel life as it flows on Earth? Oh Deity, give me power to resist my temptation.

  * * *

  “Can I get a coffee, black?” Levi asks, while handing his money to the cashier. The orchestra of sound echoing through this little coffee shop is almost deafening. I inhale deeply. The smell of roasted beans suffusing this establishment is absolutely sublime. Levi is on edge today and is short with the young man behind the counter.

  The lanky-limbed cashier has a bored look on his face while pushing the buttons on the monitor. The white embroidered tag on his apron says his name is Andrew. I close my eyes and his life flashes in my mind. The red haired young man is a twenty-three year old college drop-out and lives with his grandmother. He has an addiction to prescription pills and uses his grandmother for access to them. I have hope for Andrew. He still has a long life in which to find redemption. Poor soul will suffer grievously. Levi nods at Andrew while taking the coffee from him and makes his way out of the little shop.

  It is bright out. The sun’s warm gleaming rays make Levi squint his eyes. He puts on his dark sunglasses. Levi wears his hair tied back, and it shines like ebony glass. My eyes trace the colorful dragon tattoo that is clearly visible in his body-hugging black tank top. The dragon wraps around his bicep, the tail curling around and down his forearm.

  The people in the immediate vicinity gravitate their eyes towards Levi. They watch him as he saunters down the street with his smooth and confident steps. Women and men stare, finding his features arresting to ones senses. He ignores the attention, he would rather go unnoticed.

  He sips his coffee, cursing that it’s still too hot to drink and dribbling a bit of it on to his jeans. I giggle like a small child at the mishap. He stiffens and walks just a tiny bit faster, I am quite sure from feeling my presence.

  I have now been following Levi around for a couple of weeks. He is not only cranky but also very busy today. He usually is in the beginning of the month. It is in this time period that he opens a small window-like portal into hell and speaks to his father. I know that he needs to feed soon after these encounters with his father. I have come to believe that Malacoda forces the hunger on Levi. Malacoda holds hope that his son will come home to him sooner if Levi learns to indulge in his hungers.

  Levi won’t deny Malacoda these visits with him. After all, the demon is Leviathan’s father. Malacoda, a prince of hell, has few offspring and wants his progeny to be by his side ruling his realms of hell. I am sure he would approve of any attempt at bringing his son to him.

  Levi runs a bar called Hell’s Gates, appropriately named for what Levi does in his office during this time of month. The bar is in a rougher and decaying part of the city. Graffiti fills the walls and broken glass-bottles and trash line the streets. Men lie passed out in the alley with only cardboard and layers of dirt-caked clothes to keep them safe from the elements. It makes my heart clench for their circumstances.

  Misting around the earthly plane is thrilling, even with all the sadness surrounding the places Levi inhabits. I go fully corporal for small moments of time so I can feel and touch everything. I know I shouldn’t, but I cannot help myself. I wiggle my bare toes into the coarse carpet and relish its roughness. The feel of running water over my fingertips is exhilarating, and I shiver as I imagine what that sensation would be like all over my body. The firm bounce of a bed makes me want to jump with glee until my legs give out. I cannot do so for fear that Levi would walk in and catch me. I make a promise to myself that one day I will.

  I wonder if he can feel my presence more then he seems to let on. Occasionally I will see his shoulders stiffen as I enter the same room. The veins in Levi’s neck and arms stand out with strain when I come near him. The hardest part of being in such close proximity to Levi is the desire to reach out and touch him. Does it feel the same as when I reach out for one of my brethren? Would it be doubly as sensational as everything else is here? I watch him as he engages in physical fitness routines that make my mouth water. When his obsidian hair falls haphazardly across his face obstructing the view of his golden eyes, I have to restrain myself from pushing the strands back.

  “Jake, what the fuck are you doing?” He yells purposely at the man behind the bar as he walks in, stomping in his big black motorcycle boots. Levi grins as he scares Jake into having to catch the glass he was trying to stack on the shelf.

  “I’m doing laundry. What the hell else would I be doing?” Jake responds in his usual snarky tone. He is normally like this around Levi, which Levi finds amusing and eggs it on. I know Jake suspects that Levi is something more. He never voices it, but the doubt of Levi’s humanity keeps him just a little cautious it seems.

  Jake has to be sensitive to other-worldly beings. I catch him looking directly towards me. Sometimes he tilts his head as if trying to figure if I am there or just a figment of his imagination. His life does not flash for me. Though his soul burns brightly his past is absent. I guess you can say we both look at one another curiously even though he does not truly see me.

  Jake is an alluring man, as evidenced by the plethora of women who surround him when his shift starts. I embarrassingly catch myself staring at his light sea green eyes made brighter by his deeply tanned skin. Though his face & body hold masculine beauty in spades, there is a darkness or deep sadness I cannot put my finger on. He makes my soul ache, as if I should know why and cannot remember as to what.

  Levi comes to stand next to him and Jake no longer holds my gaze. I compare them side-by-side. Both are the same height, with bodies of sinewy grace ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. Their choice of clothing is similar except Jake wears a white-t-shirt. There is feral intensity in Levi’s being that acts like a magnet to everything feminine in me, so I force my eyes to linger on Jake instead. I constantly need to remind myself that Levi is a one-way ticket to losing my wings.

  “Look, I need to take care of some…things tonight. I need you to stay here and watch the bar. I’ll be out of the office in time to count down the till at the end of the night.” Levi sighs heavily. I wish he would deny Malacoda.

  “I got this, Levi. It’s the first week of the month, and you usually have shit to do. By the way, there is a package on your desk. It came in today,” Jake says, turning quickly back to his task of stacking.

  “Can I ask you something?” Levi asks with a look of curiosity on his face.

  Jake turns around, looking a little nervous. His eyebrows draw together, giving him that adorable wrinkle between his eyes. “Um…yeah, shoot.”

  “I see all these women throwing themselves at you, but you always leave them alone. I know you aren’t married.”

  Sighing deeply, Jake responds, “You’re going to call me a pussy.”

  “What makes you think I don’t call you that now?” Levi says, chuckling. I swear I swoon just a little at the sound.

  “Well fuck!” He was silent for a moment, looking for the words to express himself. “I’m just tired of running through them. There is only one girl that truly matters to me, an
d she already consumes my life. But you already know that.” Jake rubs his buzzed cut hair and looks in my direction, “Besides, it doesn’t do shit for me anymore. I want something real not just some one night receptacle.” He shakes his head appearing lost in some painful thought. Levi sees it and sympathetically changes the subject to one that makes my heart pound hard and not in a good way.

  “That’s all good for me. I can’t compete with your pretty face, so you can just send them my way.” Levi walks toward his office, and I follow at a safe distance and mist through the door as it closes. The room is small and neatly organized. It is sparsely decorated. Unlike the darkly painted cavernous feel of the bar, this room is stark white with only a large gilded mirror to decorate the left side of the room, giving it the illusion of space.

  He walks over to his large glass and gun-metal gray steel desk and picks up the small, brown-paper wrapped package left there by Jake. Levi smiles while reading the address label. My curiosity gets the better of me and I come close to take a peek at the package. He shivers at my presence but doesn’t let on that he knows I’m here. I continue to read the label on the box. Instead of opening it he sets it aside. The address is from a Sophie M. Jayne. I try to search my thoughts for who she is but the name rings no bell. He looks to the left, and I know it is time for him to speak to his father.

  I mist out of the room immediately. If Levi’s father gets his hands on me, he can drag me to hell with him. Malacoda was once an angel, a Joy Bringer. He fell with Lucifer during the uprising because he was tired of constantly trying to bring joy into humans’ lives and them disregarding it. They were never happy long enough and so he relishes bringing agony now. He would greatly enjoy ripping the wings from me and doing unspeakable atrocities to my mind and body. I slip back into the bar and see that Jake is stocking the bottles and ticking things off on a clip board. I sit on a table in the corner and try to trance myself into watching Levi with his father.

  “Have you done as I asked?” Malacoda’s voice is smooth, comforting, and reminds me of Marcus. I feel a pang of home sickness and something more. I cannot pin-point it, but it is the same effect that Levi has. It is as if I have to be near him. It must be some kind of demon pheromone. It makes no sense to me when they would have no reason to work their wiles if they cannot see me.

  “Yes, father,” he says, handing the package he received over to Malacoda. I cannot believe I am getting to look at Malacoda for the first time. I have difficulty breathing as I look upon him. His face is finely boned, almost feminine, except for the strong jaw line. His eyes are blood red, swimming with shadows that swirl in constant motion. From the waist up I see he wears a finely tailored suit with a crisp, white shirt underneath that is buttoned to mid chest, exposing his golden tan skin. I look away quickly, remembering high demons were once angels too. Their angelic looks are just another tool in their arsenal.

  “Good son. Are you ready to come home to me?” Malacoda’s voice is satin smooth, coaxing, and not matching his facial expression. He runs a hand through his short, haphazardly spiked, inky black hair the same color of Levi’s. Malacoda’s face now boasts a look of boredom. I assume it is because he already knows Levi’s answer.

  “No, I still have years of life to live here. I want the sun, the moon, the air, and wind. Shit, I’ll take the fucking grimy-ass alley behind this building.” Levi raises his voice at his father which is something I have never imagined him able to do.

  Malacoda becomes more aggressive at his sons tone. Energy crackles violently around him. “Your place is at my side, Leviathan. You belong to me.”

  “I will stay here for as long as my life permits me to,” he says. Inside I am cheering him on. Good, Levi! Be your own man! I am practically fist pumping the air in happiness as I watch him stand up to Malacoda.

  “You have the face of your stubborn mother.” Malacoda tempers his anger at his wistfully spoken comment. His crimson eyes cloud over in some distant and cherished memory, judging by the slight smirk on his face. “She would have been treated as a queen here,” Malacoda says low and more to himself.

  “Yes. I am sure she would have loved to have been amongst all of the gore and screams. Sounds like a real party.” Levi shakes his head. “Did you know nothing of my mother?”

  “She would have lived forever. Instead she chose to die horribly to fucking cancer of all things. Her precious God wasn’t there to spare her that pain, was he?”

  “She had her faith, and it was enough,” Levi says almost equally disgusted at his mother’s choice. I know that even ten years after her death a piece of him is still angry with her for giving life to him when he had a higher chance of suffering in hell for all eternity.

  “I guess it was. I will let you get back to your putrid little world,” Malacoda says with a negligent wave of his hand and disappears from the mirror.

  “Good bye, Father,” Levi says to the empty mirror as the connection is severed.

  I snap back to myself and breathe deeply of the stale beer smell and disinfectant spray. Old smoke clings to the fabric of the booths. When I open my eyes, I see Jake looking directly at me. He sees me. Oh no! I’m not corporal. How in the heavens is he seeing me? The end of the night has come and gone that quickly. Time moves differently on the separate planes. One day in heaven or hell is equivalent to a week on the earthly plane. So what seems like a five minute conversation at the portal mirror was really an eight hour evening.

  He smiles and is about to speak, when Levi comes in. Jake looks away quickly and goes back to the task at hand, cleaning the bar down. Levi goes behind the bar, and broods as he starts counting the till.

  “Jake, restock and you’re good to go,” Levi says over his shoulder, while flipping through a stack of twenty dollar bills.

  “Are you sure?” Jake responds, throwing the cloth in his hand over his shoulder. Shock and wariness plays slightly across his face.

  “Yeah, I can get the last tables. Get to it before I change my mind,” Levi snaps, making Jake finally move.

  “Okay, Okay…,” he says resigned.

  When Jake goes to the back to grab the stock, I follow him. He stops and stands in front of the wooden crates. His hand reaches to pull out a bottle of amber liquid.

  “Can you see me Jake?” I ask still doubtful of what I saw. I, a Watcher not sure of what I see is almost laughable.

  “Yes, I can,” he says quietly as if afraid of looking crazy since Levi does not know of my existence.

  “How long have you been able to see me?” I ask urgently, wondering just how vulnerable I have made myself by coming to the earthly plane.

  “Since your misty form glided in behind Levi.” That darn awful smirk Marcus usually gives me when he knows something I do not settles on Jake’s lips, making me want to kick him in the shin.

  “Do you know what I am?” I admit my tone is a bit testy, but it is from nervousness. What if The Council discovers I am going about all willy-nilly and showing myself around unknowingly?

  “The wings give it away, princess,” he says sarcastically while looking over my shoulder, making my feathers ruffle.

  “Oh… I suppose they do,” I say, twisting the fabric of my gown which is something I do when I am nervous. Such a bad and telling habit I must learn to break. I doubt it will happen, being that I am already two-thousand heavenly years old.

  “Why have you not said anything?” My curiosity drives me to ask.

  “I assume you’re here to keep Levi and his hungers in check. You’re a Watcher. You are definitely not an Enforcer.” He is right; Enforcers are eight feet tall, and I at five foot eleven am dwarfed by them. But how in the two worlds does he know about this?

  “How-” I begin to ask when he cuts me off.

  “I am Fallen, princess,” he says condescendingly. That explains why I cannot see his life. He is erased from our kind. He is just a lost soul amongst the many. I wonder if I knew him.

  “Why did you fall?” I ask him.

  “
That is a tale for another day,” he says, pulling two more bottles out of the crate and setting them on the table beside him. “Why do you follow Leviathan?”

  “He is assigned to me,” I say proudly, puffing out my chest a little. Darn it! Now I am displaying pride. I am so getting my wings taken.

  “I haven’t seen his soul on the brink of turning black. Are they just looking for an excuse to smite him?” He practically spits out his words, insulting me and in turn, making me raise my voice to Jake.

  “No! Not at all!” I am appalled, that Jake would think so badly of his former people. He should know better.

  “Then why are you out of your cloud?” He looks at me, and I feel naked. I am so afraid he will see the true reason for being here is to test myself against my greatest temptation.

  “I…I…,” stutters out of my mouth.

  His face lights up with a mischievous grin as he steps closer to me. So close that I can smell the sweet mint of the gum he was chewing earlier. His sea green eyes are arresting, and I become entranced in their depths. Pain and an aching vulnerability that I now understand is loss. Will my eyes look like this if my lusts are found out and my wings and grace ripped from me?

  “I think a sweet little angel saw something that caught her attention.” Jake’s voice deepens, and my hands once again wrap in my gown as he continues speaking to me. “Maybe it was something hot and sweaty. Are you in…need?” He reaches a hand up toward my face, trying to prove a point. Just a sliver of air separates his skin from touching mine. I can feel the heat of his hard, sinewy body radiating in waves against me. The thought of bodily contact is an aching pulse of need inside of me. How much more magnified will the sensations be if he closes the distance between the two of us?