by Elise Marion
While the angel shrank, morphing into his human disguise, Micah studied the woman walking toward them with a confident gait. His eyebrows shot up as he realized she stood taller than Jack, who came in at a tad south of six feet. Her swarthy, sienna skin, sharp features, and thick head of black hair hinted at Creole heritage. Lush curves burst with femininity, while lithe muscles in her arms and legs proclaimed physical strength.
As she breezed past them without a word, the hem of her dress fluttering around her legs, she seemed focused on something beyond them.
“Well, howdy to you, too,” he muttered, watching as she sashayed toward the house.
Halting, she turned and fixed him with a sharp stare.
“Hush, boy,” she chided, the many bracelets on her arm clanking together as she waved a dismissive hand in his direction.
Micah scowled, his hackles rising faster than he could control. “Boy?”
“Yes … boy,” she murmured, inclining her head and giving him an assessing glance. “I see through you … and deep down, you’re just a hurt little boy. Now, I said hush!”
After a few more steps, she paused again, turning in circles as if looking for something.
Her assessment had left him on edge, and he shivered despite the warmth of the afternoon. Oracles had insight that no one else did, and he couldn’t stand the way they often looked at him—as if privy to his deepest fears and secrets.
“Where did you find this chick, Ren?” he muttered as the fully transformed angel came up beside him.
In his human form, Reniel bore a strong resemblance to the film depiction of Thor. When he was around, Micah ceased to be the biggest, strongest guy in the room. It was a humbling experience.
Reniel chuckled. “Zerilda is one of the best, but tapping into power that strong necessitates a great deal of skill and concentration. She requires stillness and silence.”
The three looked on as Zerilda turned in another circle, her wide eyes darting back and forth.
“I feel a dark energy here,” she murmured. “A supernatural event occurred in this spot … demon-orchestrated.”
“Which demon?” Jack asked.
The oracle speared him with a withering glare, and Micah clearly read irritation there.
“Well, I don’t know,” she said, one hand on an ample hip. “But, if you give me more than thirty seconds, I’ll figure it out.”
With that, she turned her back to them once more, dropping to her rear on the ground. Sitting cross-legged, she removed something from the pocket of her dress—a vial, which she opened and emptied in a circle around herself.
Micah stood with Reniel and Jack in silence for what felt like hours as Zerilda rocked back and forth, murmuring low under her breath in what Micah recognized as Haitian Creole. While impatience continued to plague him, he didn’t dare move or speak, not when an Oracle sat nearby in a trance. If she’d sat facing them, her eyes would appear white and unseeing—allowing her to explore the spiritual plane.
Suddenly, she came to her feet, whirling to face them. Micah found himself struck dumb by her eyes—still glowing white in her dark face. They went wide, as if with fear, and her lips parted as her jaw dropped.
“The Ring Bearer was taken,” she said, her voice taking on an eerie quality seeming to cause it to echo around them. “By Lilith.”
“Goddamn it,” Micah spat.
Zerilda held one hand up to silence him. “She was taken, but not to an earthly location.”
His blood ran cold, and the heavy weight of dread settled in his gut like a stone. If Addison was nowhere on Earth, and Lilith had taken her, there was only one place she could be.
He turned to Reniel. “You gotta get us to her.”
The angel shook his head. “No. It is out of the question. Addison shouldn’t even be down there.”
Jack’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening, hands clenching at his sides. “They break the rules, so do we. I’m not just going to sit here and do nothing.”
For the first time since Jack had risen from the dead, he and Micah agreed.
“You heard him, Ren,” Micah growled. “Take us down to Hell.”
Chapter Two: Ménage à Trois
Addison Monroe felt as if she’d been walking forever. The oppressive heat causing sweat to break out over the surface of her skin and plastering her hair to her face grew worse the longer she walked. Of course, she’d known Hell would be hot, but as she followed the menacing red glow drawing her deeper into the bowels of the Earth, she realized she’d underestimated just how sweltering it would be. It seemed like a tangible, oppressive force, bearing down on her from above, squeezing her from every side, and vibrating beneath her feet. The surface of her skin prickled, and a blistering sensation caused her to wince. Yet, when she inspected her arm, it remained uninjured.
Swallowing through a dry throat, she ventured on, knowing there could be no turning back. She had followed the demon Lilith through a portal to free three others—people who had been kidnapped and imprisoned down here because of who she was. Their association with her had gotten them into this, and she was going to get them out, even though she didn’t have the slightest idea what that would entail.
Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath, ignoring the acrid odor of sulfur. Reaching up, she clutched the large ring hanging around her neck on a slim gold chain—the Seal of Solomon. She could do this. A poor stripper from the trailer park, she had suffered through her fair share of hardship. If there was one thing she excelled at, it was keeping a level head when shit got dicey.
The round, red glow she walked toward turned out to be an opening, which she stepped through to find herself in a room with stone walls and floors. In stark juxtaposition, massive crystal chandeliers loomed overhead, the flickering glow of hundreds of tiny flames reflecting off the surface of the glass to illuminate the room. Mirrors in gilt frames lined the walls, each one picking up her reflection as she made her way slowly forward. Glancing back up at the ceiling, she couldn’t help a sharp gasp at what she found there. Between the chandeliers, what she’d first thought were stone figures turned out to be what Jack had once referred to as demonlings—tiny minions of the underworld.
Catching her staring, they began to hiss and whisper, their voices taking on a metallic, gravelly quality, like nails rattling in a tin can. The hoarse rasping grated on her insides, while deep down, her dark side reveled in their call, understood their language. How she recognized the foreign tongue, Addison could not have said, yet a part of her recognized this as the language of Hell.
Sister! Sister! You are home, sister!
Their cries welcomed her as one of their own.
Reaching for her inner light, she pulled it to the surface the way she’d been taught, using it to create and impenetrable shield that would keep them from getting to her.
“I am not your sister,” she growled from between clenched teeth, one hand balling into a fist at her side.
“Oh, my,” purred a familiar voice from behind her. “Touchy, touchy.”
Turning, she kept her shield up and faced Lilith … AKA the Mother of Legions.
She sauntered past Addison, wearing her favored form—the human one. Porcelain skin practically glowed in the light cast by the chandeliers, further enhanced by white-blonde hair, which hung down her back in a shower of perfect waves. A black gown made from chinks of armor that looked like snake scales draped her body, and a pair of matching pumps clicked the floor with every step. A blood-red mouth sat in a perfect pout on her heart-shaped face. Yet, beneath arched blonde brows, her eyes appeared like dead lumps of black coal.
Despite her beauty and immaculate mode of dress, Addison would never forget the day she’d almost killed Micah while in her serpent form, then pursued them as a gigantic owl with a terrifying screech. A shapeshifter, Lilith had more than one frightening façade, yet Addison wondered if her human-like one couldn’t be the most dangerous of all.
Lilith sashayed across the room t
oward a stone throne, hips swaying, the train of her gown dragging behind her.
“So … are you ready to get down to business?”
Following at her own pace, Addison watched as she ascended the short staircase to her throne, then turned and sat, arranging herself for maximum effect. Pivoting, she observed her own reflection in one of the mirrors.
Right. She’d once been told demons were vain creatures, and Lilith proved no exception.
“Ready when you are, Barbie,” Addison reply with a dry snort.
Crossing one leg over the other, Lilith raised her chin. “As you know, I have three of your friends as my prisoners.”
“Which I don’t understand,” she interjected. “If you wanted me, you knew where to find me. I wasn’t exactly hiding.”
The she-demon pursed her lips. “My reasons are not up for discussion. However, the rules of your test are.”
“Test?”
“Yes, darling, a test. Or, rather, four tests in one. You will face three obstacles in a row. At the end of each one, one of your Guardians friends awaits. Pass the test, free the person waiting on the other side. Easy, right?”
Something told Addison this would be far from easy. When it came to these demons and their tricks, it seldom was.
“You mentioned a fourth test,” she replied.
Lilith nodded. “Yes, the fourth test is for your freedom. If you fail, you are mine … permanently.”
That gave her pause. While she’d grown stronger and more confident in her powers, she was far from experienced in this area. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea, after all. She probably should have waited for Micah, Jack, and Reniel before deciding to follow a demon down into Hell.
Lilith giggled, the girlish sound at odds with her smoldering coal-black eyes. “Getting cold feet already?”
Raising her chin, Addison sneered. “Not a chance.”
The demon nodded, once, as if in approval. If nothing else, Lilith seemed to respect her, despite their positions on opposite sides of this war.
Waving a dismissive hand, Lilith caused one of the mirrors to slide aside, revealing another tunnel. “Walk through this doorway, and the tests begin. There will be no reprieve, and very little break between them. So, I hope you’re well rested.”
She bit back a sarcastic scoff at that. Well rested? Her boyfriend had come back from the dead while she still mourned both him and her mother, who had only recently overdosed on drugs. She had been forced to admit to him that she’d had sex with his best friend, effectively ruining their friendship and possibly any chance at a future with him. Sleep did not come easy after such events.
Still, something about this place seemed to fuel her, and she felt as if she could run a marathon if she had to. It must be her demonic core, that Naphil instinct which knew part of her was where it belonged. Despite the light taking up residence inside her, the darkness still craved sustenance.
She knew then that it would take the strength of both sides to pass these tests and make it out of here.
Jack had mentioned she was the first of her kind—a half-demon Naphil who had taken on the mantle of a Guardian. No one yet understood what the clash of light and dark inside her could implicate.
“Well, Jack,” she murmured to herself as she neared the doorway. “I guess now’s the time to put it to the test.”
Pausing just before stepping into her first trial, she turned to spear Lilith with a narrowed glare. “Oh, and Lilith? If I lose, I am yours as agreed, but if I win … you are mine. I won’t hesitate to use this ring to trap you here, where you belong.”
This time, Lilith’s laughter came out like the cackle of the Wicked Witch of the West. A red glow ate up the whites of her eyes as her mouth curved into a spine-tingling smile.
“Good luck.”
Lilith’s voice faded as Addison stepped into the pitch-black tunnel, and the mirror that had blocked it slid back into place with a slam. Panic gripped her suddenly, but she fought it back down. There was no room for mistakes, or her self-doubt. Whatever Lilith had in store would require all her energy and focus.
Blinking until her eyes adjusted to the dark, she ventured forward, holding her breath until her lungs burned. The suspense might just, literally, kill her.
She released her breath on a heavy sigh as she found herself standing in a familiar scene. She suddenly experienced the caress of warm summer air on her skin, and could detect the scent of the outdoors. The light of the stars had been blotted out by the competing lights of a city—New York. Her mouth went dry as she recognized the setting of her first time making love with Jack, on the rooftop of his parents’ townhouse, with nothing but the summer sky surrounding them.
What am I doing here?
This place conjured up beautiful memories, yet she knew nothing could be as it seemed. Lilith hadn’t brought her down here to flood her with happy recollections.
She was proven wrong when she turned to find Jack standing a few feet away, the moonlight gleaming off his dark skin, his eyes taking on the liquid titanium quality she’d noticed occurred when he became emotional. At the moment, his gaze was sensual, piercing her with the intensity she recalled from this very night.
“Addie,” he murmured, causing her chest to ache.
The familiar intimacy of her shortened name on his tongue might just be her undoing. His arms coming around her when he closed the distance between them further detached her from reality.
This wasn’t real. Yet, everything about it seemed grounded in reality—Jack’s hands on her waist, his lips finding hers in a bone-melting kiss, that masculine scent that belonged only to him invading her senses.
She was losing herself faster than she could think, her soul reacting to his nearness without reservation. Maybe this was real. Maybe everything else that had happened before this had been the dream and this moment with Jack, a second chance, was the only thing that she could believe to be true.
Yes, she realized as he lifted her off the ground and carried her toward the roof’s stone ledge. This was real.
Lifting her up onto it, he parted her knees and stepped between them, his fingers sinking into her thighs with the strength of his grip while he leaned in to take her mouth in another kiss—this one a bit rougher. She welcomed the assault, gripping his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist, crossing them at his lower back.
“Jack,” she murmured in response to his wandering mouth tracing a fiery path from the line of her jaw down the slope of her neck.
His hands slid around to cup her ass, his grip tight as he pulled her even closer, the evidence of his arousal making itself apparent against her. Closing her eyes, she surrendered, too swept up in the moment to think beyond Jack’s fingers working to open the button of her jeans.
The pressure of something hard and cold at her back forced her to open her eyes. Confronted with an entirely new scene, she gasped, realizing she no longer sat on the rooftop of a New York townhouse. Now, the familiar environment of Temptations, the bar where she danced without her clothes on for tips, surrounded her. Overhead, the magenta and royal blue hue of stage lights created a dreamlike effect. Now, instead of Jack, Micah stood between her parted legs, his large hands holding her by the hips, his body a solid mass pressing her against one of the gleaming poles—the cold, hard thing jammed between her shoulder blades.
She became aware of the change, knowing she should stop, yet unable to form a coherent thought beyond how good it felt when he used his pelvis to keep her pressed against the pole while his hands began to wander, tracing her curves.
“I can’t stop, cher,” he rasped against her ear, trembling in her arms. “I know I should, but I can’t.”
The words came out before she could think.
“Don’t,” she replied. “Don’t stop.”
With a grin, he turned her away from the pole and fell forward with her, toward the floor. Addison gasped, bracing herself for the pain of impact … only it never came.
T
he colored lights disappeared overhead, a painted ceiling taking its place. Her back made contact with something soft—a bed. Blinking, she shook her head and tried to process the third swift change that left her reeling. This place was unfamiliar, the figures of angels painted onto the ceiling above her as foreign as the mattress beneath her.
A hand touched her, skimming her stomach toward her hip and grasping it. She found herself turned toward Jack, who lay beside her, his mouth curved into a knowing smirk. Her back arched as he lifted the hem of her shirt, dragging it over her sensitive skin.
Addison felt as if her every raw nerve ending lay exposed, attuned to every touch. Warmth spread in her belly and lower in her groin as Jack’s lips replaced his hand, his tongue circling and making its way lower.
Another hand grasped her arm, pulling her back against second, much larger body.
Micah.
His lips found the side of her neck, teeth nipping at the strained tendons. A sharp cry escaped her lips, the pleasure of his bite combining with Jack’s busy tongue near her hipbone proving too much to withstand. Yet, she did nothing to stop it, simply lay there as they trapped her between them, a writhing, panting, pliant piece of putty in their hands.
Hands … four of them … touching her, pulling at her clothes. It was too much, but not enough. Micah’s fingers tugged the strap of her tank top down at the same time Jack unzipped her jeans before lifting her shirt higher, his fingers skimming her ribs. Micah’s grasp on her hair became tighter, jerking her head back for better access to her neck. Flashes of color and light robbed her of vision as his hand came over her shoulder, dipping into her shirt to cup one breast while Jack palmed the other.
