by Tigris Eden
It’s where she belongs.
She used her arms to push away from him. The blisters on her face looked almost healed from earlier, which was strange but not too odd. Some mortals had good platelets and did the healing work faster than others.
“I am simply trying to be rational. I need to get you to a safe place. Allow me to do what is necessary to protect your life,” Isaiah reasoned.
“Then why hug me and kiss the top of my head? Huh?” she questioned.
“You were frightened. I only meant to soothe you. And as you can see, you were calmed by it.”
Because you belong in my arms.
“It worked. End of story. Don’t read it any other way,” Isaiah protested.
“And in the car, when you kissed me, saying you wanted my gum, what was that, huh?”
The woman is infuriating.
Always calling him out on his shit.
“We’ve already discussed this, leave it in the past.” Isaiah rolled away so he could get out of the bed and hopefully not have to answer any more of her questions.
“What about this?” She stretched out her hands to show how they were lying side by side on the bed. She wasn’t going to stop asking questions now that she’d started. She was mouthy like that.
Isaiah groaned and walked from the bed, adjusted his feathers, and hid them from view again.
“I don’t have time to sit here and go over my reasons for doing what I do. Accept it or not. You are under my protection now, so if I feel like hugging you, I will. If I want to touch you, I will. If I feel the need to taste your gum, I fucking will!” he roared. “And if you don’t shut the hell up and stop questioning me, I will fuck you into oblivion. The kind of raw carnal power that I can and will use on your mortal body will more than exhaust you. It may very well kill you, truth be told. And if you don’t stop talking with that mouth, I will make you use it in ways you’ve never dreamed of. And when you’re fully sated and exhausted, I will fuck you some more. You won’t be able to walk or talk. A thing like that could end you. Period.”
Isaiah burst from the room, just as Raz and Grey walked toward him. He didn’t look back. If he did, he’d do exactly what he’d said he would and then some. The last thing he heard as he stepped out into the evening air, was Raz telling Dalila it was time to go.
She hadn’t said a word. Good. Now, maybe she would stop asking questions he had no real answers for.
Ω Ω Ω
Dalila had never been fucked into oblivion. Hell, she hadn’t ever been fucked, let alone made love to. Every time she tried to engage in the act of sex, something strange happened. She saw it as a sign that no matter who she was with, she was supposed to wait. For what, she had no clue, but hearing the words thrown at her from Isaiah’s mouth had an interesting effect on her body.
She didn’t know if that was something she should fear or get extremely excited about. The feeling in her stomach screamed in excitement. Sinful, carnal, decadent, all those words did funny things to her insides. It had her clawing the sides of her pants, because as he spoke, she’d wanted to launch herself into his arms and beg him to do all those things and more.
There was no doubt in her mind that he could. The ultimate death. To die after being so thoroughly sated the body could no longer perform its normal duties. Well, that was something she would have liked to experience repeatedly at the hands of Isaiah. He made her angry, but he also made her want things she’d only ever dreamt about. Something deep inside her soul ached to be recognized by him as his equal in all things.
It was as if her body wanted to be permanently joined to his. Her heart beat erratically in her chest as Raz and Grey came to collect her. They wouldn’t touch her, and Raz wouldn’t even look at her, just said that they were leaving and heading to another location. Isaiah was out in the front of the house, and there was no car for transport. How the hell were they getting to the next location?
Her brain registered how, right when Isaiah’s and his brothers’ wings appeared and unfolded. Dalila stood frozen in awe. They were all beautiful, dangerously alluring, like fallen Angels come to take her to a place that claimed to be Heaven, but she knew was Hell.
Isaiah didn’t even look at her as he held out his hand. She didn’t want to upset him further, so she quietly walked into his embrace. Her entire body shivered, not from the cold but from the feeling of being ensnared in his web. He was the spider and she was the fly.
Isaiah bent down and spoke directly into her ear. “Grab hold of my neck,” he whispered. His breath was just as ragged as hers, and she could feel the pounding of his heart as he brought her closer, their bodies aligned perfectly.
“Whenever you’re done mind-fucking the mortal, we can leave,” Raz taunted.
Mind-fucked indeed. That was exactly what it was. A low rumble vibrated through her skin, and Dalila realized that Isaiah was growling. Almost like a purr, but it was a definite growl. She looked up and caught his eyes—liquid silver again, like the night in the park. His nostrils flared, and Dalila wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered into his chest.
“I’m ready when you are.”
She felt him take a gulp of air and then he shot into the sky. It was smoother than a plane takeoff, and quieter. There was a slight displacement of air, and then they were airborne. The feeling was amazing.
Dalila tried to look around, but Isaiah pressed her head closer to his chest. She didn’t argue, she simply relaxed and let him do all the work.
She could hear the flapping of his wings, strong and sure. It sounded almost like a low thrum, a thump and then a whoosh as he cut through the air.
As they sailed higher, the atmosphere seemed to change. She tried to peek again, and once more, Isaiah held her to his chest, blocking her view. She wanted to see.
His breathing was harsher as they soared, and it seemed as if the air was getting warmer not colder. Where the hell were they taking her?
Dalila began to panic as the air became stifling. Isaiah’s hold got tighter and tighter until she soon felt as if she might pass out due to suffocation.
She barely heard him whisper, “I’m sorry, Dalila, there was no other way.” Then, the screaming began. Loud, anguished wails, high-pitched screams, multiple pleas asking to be saved, asking the burning to stop.
Something grabbed her foot as Isaiah flew, and she let out a bellow of a scream herself. She was in Hell. There was no other way to explain what was happening to her. They’d taken her to Hell.
Chapter 8
Grey and Raz flew on his right and left flanks. He hated having to take Dalila through the first hour, but it was the only way for them to get to their destination without being tracked. The first Gate was protected by a serpent. A serpent who deceived all who came in contact with him. He was cursed.
One had tried grabbing hold of Dalila’s foot. They’d never done that before in passing. Isaiah kept a tight hold on her as they took the first hour to their new destination. Everything in the first hour seemed bathed in agony. There were twelve hellish hours in all.
Mortals would refer to them as a Book, but in fact, The Book of Gates wasn’t a book at all, they were Gates that separated the hours of the night. The idea that the Book of Gates was an actual book arose from the title itself. Instead of it being called the Gate of Hours, it was called the Book. The deities were funny that way. Once thought to be a book that contained writings, spells, and incantations collected over the millennia, it was a tale to keep the archaeologists and explorers at bay. The Gates themselves divided the twelve hours of the night and separated the enemies that the sun god himself would encounter.
Another thought was of Ra’s journey through the twelve hours of night, where he battled each enemy held captive at each Gate. It was believed that the only way the sun god could rise each morning was if he faced each Gate and triumphed over each obstacle. Once that was complete, Ra, or the sun, would rise again in joyous rebirth. They had it all wrong, of course. The Gates did have serpen
ts at each entrance, but Ra never had to fight each hour, nor did he have to rise for the sun to come out.
Humans always had the myths wrong. If they knew the real use and reason for the Gates, pandemonium would not only ensue, their world would crumble to pieces amidst the chaos the knowledge would create.
The tortured screams of the souls echoed as they vied for attention, wanting to be released, continuing to grab at one another. Here they had it easy. Here, there was no real torture, just a constant darkness of sorts. These souls would perish if they ever felt the rays of light. Nothing but blackness and the cries of the dead lived here inside the mountain. There wasn’t so much as a shadow cast on its walls when the crystals dimmed. Inside the cavern were large crystal quartz points, geodes, and diamonds. The mountain swallowed all the light that tried to seep in, its outer shell bathed by the dim lights of the crystals. They twinkled like stars.
Dalila had thought they were flying heavenward at first, but they were flying through the first Gate, the first hour. Humans couldn’t see it, but their shadows could. Constantly trying to keep up with the person it was attached to, a mortal could learn a lot from their shadows if they just paid attention to their surroundings.
The goosebumps a person felt were the shadow’s way of issuing a warning. When you walked into the shade, and the air seemed cooler, it was there that a mortal’s shadow feared the darkness most of all. There the soul was at its most vulnerable as the shadow attached to the soul. Take the shadow. Take the soul.
Dalila gasped when she felt the darkness of lost souls once again try and grab her. She couldn’t see in the dark this deep into the Gate, they were further now from the crystals and geodes.
“Just close your eyes, Dalila, and keep your noise to yourself. For some reason, they want you.” Isaiah looked to his brothers for confirmation of what he’d just said, and they both nodded in agreement and kept moving.
Ω Ω Ω
Things were fucking trying to grab her. More importantly, things were trying to soak into her skin. Almost like an imprint. She could feel them, and she could see them. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to see them, but she did. They reminded her of black sludge, and some had teeth and nails.
She could have sworn they’d taken flight in an ascent, but for some reason, this place felt as if it were beneath the ground, an abyss. When she first thought they’d been flying up toward the sky, she’d seen the stars with such clarity. It was as if they’d pierced through the Earth’s atmosphere, where the air was cleaner and the skies clearer. The huge geodes and crystals, which she’d thought had been stars, shone with such clarity and brilliance that she almost hadn’t noticed that, as they got farther and farther away, they were actually descending.
She’d held her breath for most of the way, trying to fathom just where in the hell they were taking her. Somewhere safe they had said. Somewhere they could not be easily tracked. As they continued to fall, the sounds that started out as faint whispers began to grow in a crescendo of agonized wails. She’d wanted to ask where they were taking her, but her words were swallowed in a soundless scream.
There were things beneath her, oceans and oceans of black, oily things. That was the only way she could describe them. It was as if Isaiah and his brothers were flying below some sort of radar, skimming just above the surface of what looked like an ocean of bodies. Dalila could make out heads and arms, and sockets where eyes should be. She could see their mouths open and close as they wailed.
Then one reached for her and grabbed her by her ankle. Her foot felt almost dead to her, as if the thing were trying to drain her while attaching itself to her at the same time.
Parasite! her mind screamed. She’d tried crawling up Isaiah’s body, but he held her firm, telling her to close her eyes and stay quiet. She’d stay quiet, but she wasn’t missing a minute of this horrible sight. It would be burned into her memory forever, but something told her to keep her eyes open. There was more to come.
Ω Ω Ω
“I can see the guardian up ahead,” Grey announced. Isaiah could see it, too. Guardian of the Desert, he was more like the Guardian of Lost Souls, but titles were everything to some people, and meant nothing to others. The Guardian of the Desert was known to let the souls of the dead, who resided in the Mountains of the West, roam about in a chaotic mess.
“Apophis, we seek passage through the first hour. Will you cede?” Isaiah asked. Grey rolled his eyes, and Raz stifled a laugh. It was idiotic to have to say the same damn thing over and over, year after year, to the arrogant ass, but he was The Chaos Serpent.
Standing at almost seven feet, Apophis was a force to be reckoned with. His bald head, covered in ancient glyphs, somehow glowed from within. Arms crossed, feet shoulder-width apart, Apophis stood on his ledge, brooding. It wasn’t Isaiah’s fault that he’d gotten the job of guarding the lost souls. He hadn’t slept with countless mortals and demi-gods, sowing the Earth with children that, from birth, were mad. Every woman he’d ever fathered a child with had been ripped apart from the inside out. There was nothing to be done about it. It was said that he was forever cursed because of the one child he’d fathered and left for dead before he’d been thrust into his position. The bastard knew of his curse and still fathered more children, regardless of the consequences. So, this was his punishment for eternity: to guard the first hour.
“Suck my cock, and I just might let you through this time, you slimy bastard.” Apophis then noticed the carry-on that Isaiah was toting. Dalila. His nostrils flared, and his eyes glowed an eerie shade of yellow.
“Better yet, leave her here, and you and your brothers may pass.” Isaiah tightened his hold on Dalila. She looked up into the face of Apophis, and Isaiah almost cringed. He knew what she would see as a human: a beautiful face, a body that was built for pleasure. All women saw this when looking into the dark prince’s eyes.
“I’d rather be dropped into the ocean with the pit of black parasites than stay here with you.” Apophis threw back his bald head and laughed, the sound echoing off the walls of the mountain.
“I like her, Isaiah, she’s got…” He thought for a moment and then seemed to smile wider. “She’s got sass. I like a woman with sass.”
Apophis reached out and gently took one of Dalila’s curls between his fingers and pulled it straight to watch it spring back into place again. Neither Isaiah nor his brothers moved. The one thing about traveling through the Gates was that they were rendered powerless and were only able to pass as long as each guardian gave them free passage. It didn’t matter that they were Seraphim. In this dimension, they were only allowed the use of their wings, nothing more.
Dalila stiffened, and her skin seemed to harden. Apophis pulled his hand back and cleared his throat.
“I’ll fight you for her.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Dalila squeaked.
“You know that wouldn’t be a fair fight,” Raz spoke up, taking a step toward Apophis. “We’re powerless here, and you know it.” Grey put forth a hand toward Raz to calm him, and Isaiah took a step back, taking Dalila with him.
“Fuck off, Apophis. Just let us pass.”
“I fuck off too much as it is now. And you have what I want, right there.” He pointed toward Dalila and let his serpent-like tongue snake out of his mouth, the end forked with a black line down the center.
“God, I’m going to be sick,” Raz said.
Isaiah unwrapped his arms from around Dalila and shoved her toward Raz. As he did, he looked over his shoulder at Grey and nodded. “You will wipe her after this is over.” Then he looked over to where Raz and Dalila stood just a few feet away. “Raz, don’t let anything happen to her, or it’s your ass.”
Apophis wanted a fight? Then a fight he’d get.
Chapter 9
“Why don’t you just use the key, dumb fuck?” Apophis taunted. He knew they couldn’t use the key. It was against the laws of the realm. No one was meant to use the key, which was exactly why they neede
d to find the fucking Book in the first place. The key was an afterthought. No one really talked about it because it was pointless. But Apophis did shit like this on purpose, and only when he wanted something he knew he couldn’t have. The key wasn’t a key. It was an incantation. If used, not only could you pass without permission, but you could also let one soul free. You didn’t get to pick the soul, though. It was a random lottery, and any soul housed in any of the hours could be released. That was not a good thing.
“You know that isn’t allowed,” Raz spoke up. His hand was wrapped tightly around Dalila’s arm as he spoke. “And how is it that your arrogant ass always manages to sound stupid when using twenty-first century colloquialisms? Must have been cavorting with your dead souls again.” Raz used his body to maneuver Dalila a step away from the scene that was unfolding between them. Isaiah could feel the flow of Apophis’s energy gathering, and he knew his brothers could, too.
Fucking cheater.
“Eat my dick, pretty boy,” Apophis sneered at Raz
“No, it’s eat my shorts, ass clown,” Raz grunted. He covered his mouth with his hand to keep from laughing. No reason to piss off the guardian more. Isaiah could see him sizing up Dalila, undressing her with his eyes. Frankly, the male was pissing him the hell off.
“No, man,” Apophis whispered. He looked straight into Raz’s eyes and said with a voice dripping with hate, “I really want you to eat my dick. It will give me a reason to fuck up that mouth. Be thankful I don’t take males. Otherwise, I’d give it to you right up the ass, nice and hard. You’d love it.” That’s when Grey tensed behind Isaiah. But Raz just smiled big and laughed it off.
“Man, you’re fucking sick. Isaiah, fuck his mountain up. I’d say world, but bitch-ass here doesn’t have one, do you, snake boy?”
Apophis’s arm reached out and yanked Raz off his feet. Dalila stumbled, but not before righting herself and moving out of the way. Isaiah positioned himself in front of her to keep her out of harm’s way. Grey took another two steps and then had Apophis under his knife. Grey’s Blann was a work of beauty. He’d fashioned the barbed iron tip made from a spear into a knife, complete with handle. It was the only thing he had left of his mother’s people.
