To Hell and Back (Mel Goes to Hell Series Book 4)

by Demelza Carlton

  To Hell and Back

  Demelza Carlton

  Dedication

  In memory of Alice

  who would roll over in her grave if she knew what Saint Patrick got up to in this book.

  If she isn't already laughing with him.

  Copyright © 2015 Demelza Carlton

  Lost Plot Press

  All rights reserved.

  "You're coming with me, Luce. We'll return to HELL together."

  Luce watched the chainmail-clad girl clink off. Armour on a guy just looks old-fashioned, but on a woman…it made him feel a bit nostalgic. If Mel had fought in the Heavenly Battle all those centuries ago dressed in mail like that one…Hell, he'd have fallen to his knees and begged to surrender to her. Maybe if he hinted to Mel, she'd consider…

  "Just think – you'll get to wear pants again."

  Pants. Damn. That meant no fooling around. At least, not yet.

  "Any chance you'll let me lose the pants later?" he asked eagerly.

  "Luce."

  "It looks just like we left it," Luce said, looking around as he headed for the bedroom. He stumbled over a shoe and kicked it away, swearing. "Who left all these here, where I could trip over them?"

  "They're yours, Luce. You were wearing them when you kicked the juvenile swan and earned yourself a nasty nip, back at the office Christmas party," Mel replied, stepping daintily over the obstacles as she made her way to the kitchen. "Would you like some tea? I find it always helps ground me when I've been without a body for a while."

  "Sure," Luce said, grinning. "Boil the kettle. I've been thinking about your body all week and I have some ideas I'd like to try out." He pulled out a dining chair and sat down, patting his lap. "We could get started while the water heats up. Maybe heat things up a little more."

  Mel laughed, crossing the kitchen to fill the kettle. She clicked it on, returned to Luce, and lowered herself onto his lap, crossing her wrists behind his neck. "I have some ideas, too," she murmured, drawing him in closer for a kiss.

  His hands caressed her back through the silk of her dress and his arms tightened around her as she slipped her tongue between his lips. Mel could feel the love spilling out of his soul and hoped he could feel the same from hers. So many centuries of soul-reading without revealing her presence…but she was learning to let Luce sense her.

  Her body betrayed her thoughts, making Luce break the kiss to whisper, "You're too tense, Mel. Don't think about it. Only share what you want to. Your body is expressive enough for me to read plenty from you, without you needing to share your whole soul. Humans manage love like this just fine." He chuckled. "Focus on my body for once and not my soul. I made sure it was perfect for you, Mel. I promise you'll enjoy it." He pressed his lips to the side of her neck, trailing kisses down to the neckline of her dress.

  Mel tipped her head back, closing her eyes as he kissed her breasts – or what little he could reach without her taking her clothes off. "Luce, I'd like to…"

  "So would I," he said, returning to her lips. He deepened the kiss, tightening his hold on her as if he'd never, ever let her go.

  A new and distinctly annoyed voice rang out, killing the moment. "Kissing demons is disgusting, Mel. I didn't believe you'd ever…"

  "If the lady will let me, I'll show you just how wrong you are," Luce offered instantly.

  "No, Luce, that's not…" Mel pulled away from him. "Raphael, you should really knock first. You could have saved yourself from seeing things you don't like. You'd best remember to be polite to my guest, too – Luce is an angel, the same as you. Definitely not a demon any more."

  "Fine. Former demon, then. You look like you're about to…sleep with him! Ex-demon or not, I wouldn't have thought you'd stoop so low as to…"

  "Low is condemning an innocent man to Hell, Raphael," Mel said coldly. "What Luce and I do is really none of your business, nor your concern. Why are you here? If you've only come to lecture me on going to Hell and bringing Luce home with me, you may leave." Gracefully, she rose from Luce's lap and headed for the kitchen, smoothing her dress down along the way.

  "I came here to tell you about Persi and the mess she's left us in. It has nothing to do with him." Raphael glared at Luce. "He's the one you should ask to leave."

  Mel spooned tea into her teapot. "Luce is my guest and he's free to leave whenever he wishes, but he's here at my invitation now. My love, I think you should stay to hear what Raphael has to say."

  "Why?" Raphael spat.

  Mel poured a steady stream of hot water over the mixture of leaves and flowers. "Because I need Luce to help me clean up Persi's mess. He's going to return to his old job as CEO of the HELL Corporation."

  "WHAT?" the two men shouted together.

  Luce recovered first from his shock. "Only if you're working there, too. I'm not going back to HELL without a small slice of Heaven. You can have the office across from mine and I'll make you coffee every morning."

  Mel's smile lit up her whole face. "That sounds lovely. Of course I will, Luce."

  Mel carried her cup of tea to the armchair by the window and settled into the well-padded cushions. Luce clunked his cup on the coffee table and sprawled across the sofa, leaving Raphael the other armchair. He watched in fascination as the archangel dragged one of the dining chairs over and parked his backside on that instead. He sat stiff and silent, making Luce wonder if he was going to say anything at all or if he was just wasting their time.

  "Raphael, didn't you come here to tell me about Persi?" Mel asked. "I mean, do you know who the last person was to see her before she disappeared?"

  "Me," he said hoarsely, then cleared his throat. "Me. I was the last one to see her. We were discussing the dismantling of the demon corporation and their banishment back to Hell. Persephone worried about sending anyone back, because that would only strengthen this guy's army." He shot Luce a cold glare. "He was pining for you, she said, but he'd soon realise you wouldn't have feelings for the likes of him and take up arms against Heaven again. I told Persephone that she'd have some time, as the devil had managed to lure you into Hell and under some sort of spell that made you forget who and what he is." Raphael's eyes glittered. "She said –"

  "Hang on," Luce interrupted. "You fed her a line of bullshit about how I've worked some sort of hocus pocus on Mel? I thought angels couldn't lie."

  Raphael glared at him again. "I don't know how you did it, but there's no way Mel would give you the time of day without some sort of magic. Persephone said she'd find you and make it right. But instead, she disappeared." He dropped his gaze to the floor. "She was supposed to visit her mother in Heaven after our meeting, but she never arrived. Demeter said Persephone would never have forgotten – she's very close to her mother."

  The same mother who'd tried to take a sword to me, Luce fumed.

  "If he wasn't with you at the time, Mel, I'd have suspected him," Raphael continued. "After what he did to Persi last time –"

  Luce jumped to his feet. "I didn't touch the little bitch! She's feeding lies to the lot of you. Say it to my face, angel. If you want to accuse me of crimes I didn't commit, we can take this all the way to Heaven's gates. Go on!" He advanced on the wide-eyed angel – or at least he tried to, but he couldn't seem to move.

  Raphael rose. "Not so tough now, are you?" he taunted, yet when he tried to step forward, it looked like he'd run into an invisible wall.

  "Enough," Mel said softly, her eyes darting from Raphael to Luce and back again. The edge of steel in her tone made it an order neither of them could disobey. And neither of them could move…

  She was doing it. Luce realised a split second bef
ore Raphael did.

  "Whatever you believe about Luce, you're mistaken," she said to Raphael. "Do you know anything else about Persi?"

  "No," he said sullenly. "So I should go." He attempted to, but Mel's invisible grip still held him fast.

  Luce grinned. "Now who's tough?"

  Mel placed her hand on his chest. "Luce, please. The more polite you both are, the more smoothly this will go and the sooner it'll be over. Now, I want both of you to sit down, please."

  Luce finally capitulated and, a moment later, Raphael followed.

  "Better," Mel said. "So, I gather that the problem is that Persi's missing and no one's in charge of Hell. Yes?"

  "No," Luce replied. "I think Lili and the other senior demons are in charge. The HELL Corporation could be run by a concussed monkey right now, for all I know. I only signed over the company to the nephilim girl."

  Mel inclined her head. "Okay. So no one's in charge of the HELL Corporation and the best qualified person to replace her is the retired CEO – you, Luce. As we've already agreed, I'll assist. Raphael, if you find Persi, or if someone else does, you already said she's looking for me, so I want to know if you hear anything about her."

  Raphael nodded, but the calculating look in his eyes showed that his mind was working overtime. "I'll give you regular updates about anything we hear to do with Persi."

  "I also want a team of angels to assist me in the office, with some Exousiai, if George can spare any."

  "Oh no, not bloody Powers!" Luce groaned. "Last time I ran into one of them, he pulled out a damn sword and tried to butcher me in the middle of the street. The last thing I need in HELL is a bunch of archaic warrior angels who think I have a target painted on my arse."

  "Wearing pants might help fix that problem, Luce." Mel's eyes danced with laughter before she resumed in a more serious tone, "Exousiai are experts at dealing with demons, so I need some. I'm sorry. But Raphael can explain the terms – no drawing without provocation and they must stay away from you. I'll give you a list of who I want, Raphael."

  Raphael nodded again. "Is that all?"

  "No," Mel said slowly. "There's also the matter of the underwear you owe me. And a new shirt."

  Luce smirked at Raphael, only to find the angel wore a similar expression. So who owed her underwear, then?

  "Raphael, I was helping out the Agency when my clothing was damaged. I require replacements," Mel explained.

  Luce sniggered.

  "I’m not…not shopping for women's clothes!" Raphael spluttered, flushing.

  Mel shrugged. "Fine." She held out her hand. "Then give me your Agency credit card, please."

  Raphael pulled out his wallet and handed over the card, glowering. "He better not be helping you."

  A wicked smile spread across her face. "That's none of your business, Raphael. Now, if there's nothing else…keep me updated. I'll see you out."

  When the door closed behind Raphael, Luce said, "I can help you. I know this shop that sells the sexiest –"

  "Luce. Though I don't do it often, I'm familiar with clothes shopping. I'm sure I'll be fine. Besides, I have to do something on my lunch break and there are plenty of suitable stores in the city near the office." Mel's eyes met his. "Now, what were we planning on doing before we were interrupted?"

  Luce grinned. "Let me refresh your memory."

  Luce's heart sank as each step dragged him deeper inside the HELL Corporation building. Was it dread, sadness or something else that made him want to be anywhere but here? He couldn't decide. All he knew for sure was that there was no place for him in Hell or HELL any more. He was a changed man…demon…no, angel; happy to follow wherever his sweet angel led.

  Mel stepped into the darkened CEO's office first. "She's not here and she hasn't been for a while."

  Luce edged in behind her and flicked the lights on. She was right, of course – there was no sign of the half-angel here. Just thinking about her made him shiver, though he couldn't be sure if there was some sign of her presence or whether he was just imagining things.

  "Oh, she left the paintings!" Mel cried, crossing the room to stand before the framed Pro Hart landscapes. "I've wanted to take a closer look at these since the first time I visited your office."

  Luce racked his memory, trying to recall when she'd expressed her interest in his taste for Australian art. His heart sank when he realised that on that long-ago day, he'd completely ignored her wish to know more about him as he'd let his own carnal desire to possess her consume him. Oh Hell, he'd been so cocksure she'd obey him, he'd unzipped his pants the moment he heard her voice.

  He'd never be able to make amends for that, but he'd go a long way to try.

  "They're yours if you want them. I picked them not just for the colours, but for the life they represent. The friendly games of cricket on the beach, the rugby matches, the country towns with people and red dirt and gum trees…it's the idealised life Australians want to live, even when they can't. I wish I could show you the Rembrandts I used to have in my house in Amsterdam – full of angelic merchants, when the reality was that they were waging war on the native inhabitants of the countries they'd invaded and killing their own employees with disease and malnutrition to feed their own greed. So much easier to get them to sign their souls away when they believed they were behaving more like angels than demons…" He became conscious of her concerned eyes on him. "You should have them. Every time I look at them now, I'll remember how I corrupted this or that politician, company director or angel in this office."

  Mel kissed his cheek. "No, we'll leave temptation here, so I can see them every time I come visit you in your office. We can admire them together."

  His heart ached to do something else for her, something that would wipe away the painful memories of his first misguided advances. When she'd politely declined and walked out on him, leaving behind the intoxicating scent that drove him mad. A crazy, half-formed idea came to him and he opened the cupboard before he could talk himself out of it. Everything was just as he'd left it – Persephone hadn't touched anything on this shelf.

  Luce grabbed the spray bottle and roll of paper towels, bumping the door shut with his elbow as he turned back to the desk. The bottle squeaked as he squirted cleaning fluid all over the desk surface, but he continued until he'd covered it completely. He set the bottle down and ripped off a length of towelling, swiping at the desk until it shone.

  Doubt seized him. She'd refuse him again, he was certain of it. Plus, Persephone had used this desk in his absence – one wipe wasn't enough. He spritzed the surface again and repeated his furious circles with the paper towels. A second time – did it need a third? It had to be perfect for Mel – she deserved no less. Luce lifted the bottle again and pulled back the trigger.

  "What are you doing?"

  Luce wasn't sure how long Mel's eyes had been on him, but they held sadness. She was going to refuse. She was going to remember how horrible he'd been when she'd first started working here, change her mind and never come back. She'd…

  Mel gently pulled the ammonia-drenched paper towels from his hand and dropped them in the wastepaper basket under the desk. "It's clean. You were very thorough. I'm sure you don't need to worry about working on a dirty desk ever again. You can ask Mephi to send a reminder to the office cleaners first thing –"

  "No," Luce blurted out. "I cleaned it for you. I want…I NEED you to lie down on the desk."

  She stepped back, out of his reach. Luce's heart died a little. "Luce, for your own good, you know I have to say no to that. I know this office reminds you of what you were in the past, but you're a different man now, and you can't just give in to your desires and passions the way you used to. If you really feel you need me that badly, you can stay at my place tonight and perhaps we can –"

  "Melody, please. I've changed, but I'm still the same man. One who regrets being so rude to you that first time you were here. When all I wanted was to possess your body and soul – neither of which I deserve. I need to
expunge it from your memory and mine. This is different. This time, it's about you. I want to show you how much I treasure you and make amends for not considering your desires. I want you to –" he swallowed, certain she was going to refuse his outrageous request, trying to find words that wouldn't sound as crass as the ones in his head "– lie down on my desk and let me fall to my knees and worship you." He regretted his words as soon as they were out.

  Mel backed away, shaking her head, and his heart plummeted. "No, Luce. Angels aren't to be worshipped. We're here to help, not pose as deities."

  Luce burst out laughing. "You've got me tongue-tied so I can't say anything right. That's not what I meant. I'm trying to say I want to pleasure your body with mine, here on the desk. My mouth, my hands, my everything – focussed purely on your pleasure. Part of my…penance to you, for being such a prick."

  She softened and stepped forward. Her lips tasted of sweet victory as she kissed him, and she didn't resist as he lifted her to perch on the edge of his desk. Luce's eyes didn't leave hers as he shrugged out of his jacket and folded it into a pillow. He tilted her back, so that her head rested on his coat. He dropped to his knees. "Please, Melody," he begged.

  Her knees, so modestly pressed together, parted slightly to reveal a glimpse of the soft, white lace underwear that clung to her skin under her skirt. She sighed. "All right, my love."

  Luce felt her body shudder in pleasure. Her tiny gasp was all the sound she made. He was losing his touch – she didn't respond to him like other girls did. He'd done his best but he couldn't seem to coax the sort of climax out of her that made her scream his name. He sank to the floor, sitting back on his heels. "I'm sorry, Mel," he said quietly.

  He rose, placed her underwear on the desk beside her and dragged himself to the private bathroom adjoining his office. He freshened up, taking unusual care washing his hands to delay the moment when he'd be forced to face her pity for his failure. Eventually, he returned to the office. Luce slumped in his desk chair, watching Mel smooth her skirt down as if she'd experienced no passion at all. She probably hadn't, he told himself.