Holiday From Hell

by Carlton, Demelza

  "I can help," Luce offered eagerly, hanging his towel over the rail.

  "I know, but I can do this. Can you hang that last load of laundry out on the balcony? With today's fine weather, it should dry before dark."

  Luce hefted the basket of wet washing in one hand. "Winter in Western Australia and we're line-drying washing outside. You couldn't do this in London. Or Singapore. Middle of winter here and it's shaping up to be a perfect day."

  "Another perfect day," Mel corrected. "Just like yesterday."

  Luce didn't argue – he and Mel definitely disagreed on what a perfect day involved, but he didn't have much to complain about. Especially not after last night and this morning.

  "Please put some clothes on before you go outside, Luce!"

  Swearing under his breath, Luce reached into his suitcase for something to put on. He found a sock. A single black sock. Well, that wasn't going to cover much and Mel might think it wasn't enough. Sighing, he looked around for something – anything – that wasn't still soaked from its tumble in the washing machine that morning. Well, it qualified as clothing.

  He set the wet clothes out in the early morning sun and grabbed the empty basket. The sound of a timid knock on the front door made him set it down again. "Mel, are we expecting visitors?"

  "No," she called back. "But we're out of dry towels. I think you used the last one. So hopefully that's Greg with some fresh ones." She paused and Luce heard nothing but the shower before she added, "You are wearing something, right, Luce?"

  "Yes. I'll get the door." He threw open the door to find a frightened-looking woman with her arms full of flowers. At her feet was a box of wine and a stack of fresh towels.

  "Delivery? For Miss Melody Angel?" the woman stammered.

  He'd completely forgotten about the flowers he'd ordered for Mel. "She's in the shower. I'll take it." He held out his arms for the liliums. Luce carried the vase over to the table, where it took up most of the space, before returning for the towels. The woman was already hurrying down the steps. "Thanks," Luce called after her.

  She aimed one more frightened look at him and quickened her pace, almost sprinting to her car.

  Luce shrugged and hugged the sun-warmed towels. They easily filled a shelf in the bathroom cupboard. He hung one over the towel rail for Mel and headed back out for the case of wine. He left it on the kitchen bench, figuring he'd ask Mel later where she wanted it.

  "Oh, that's so sweet of you to get me flowers, Luce. They smell Heavenly, too."

  Luce spun on the spot, startled by her sudden appearance.

  Mel wore a skirt and sweater, but the skirt was too long to show her underwear as she leaned over to inhale the flowers' fragrance. She resumed combing her damp hair.

  "How'd you know they're from me? You haven't read the card yet." Luce nodded at the little envelope. "I'm not the only one who knows you like these."

  "Yes, you are, and you're also the only one who knows I'm here." Mel's smile softened as she read the card. "Not your handwriting, though, so you must have ordered these. Is that what yesterday's phone call was about? I figured you were on the phone to the office."

  While he enjoyed her thank you kiss, Luce tried to fit the missing pieces together. No, someone knew – whoever'd bought them in the first place. The person who'd stolen his Melody on Valentine's Day. Who'd...she'd...Luce watched, astounded, as Mel shared the memory of her last Valentine's Day evening.

  "You ate pizza, alone at home? You should have called me. I'd have treated you like a queen, Mel. All night." He delved deeper into her memory for the reason why. "You didn't like me? I made you feel uncomfortable? You didn't want me to know where you lived? Oh God, Mel, I'm sorry. You damn near hated me and I..."

  "You were a demon, Luce, the same as all the other men who'd sent me flowers that day. And I did regret refusing your invitation, though not because I ate pizza alone. You've changed – something most people wouldn't believe possible. Would the man who bought those orchids for me have been able to heal me as miraculously as you did last night? Or even kiss me properly without burning the both of us with the darkness in his soul?" Her eyes filled with tears. "Or been the first man to ever buy me my favourite flowers, knowing they were my favourite, like you did today?"

  He didn't need to say a word – she already knew the answer. But he couldn't resist. "The first? Really?"

  Mel beamed. "Yes." She glanced down. "And also the first man I've ever seen wear a sock quite like that. It looks somewhat...strained. Please tell me you didn't answer the door in that."

  Luce shifted uncomfortably as he pulled off the sock. It had been getting a bit tight. "All my clothes are drying on the balcony and you said to put some clothes on, so..."

  She sighed and snatched up his car keys. "I'll go get your spare things out of the car. That should tide you over until the washing's dry tonight. And please take off my nightdress."

  "Where to?" Luce asked as he slid behind the steering wheel, careful to avoid snagging the precious yellow shirt.

  Mel clicked her seatbelt into place. "The bakery in town. I've heard their breakfasts are lovely. And after that...we'll see." She wore her impish smile today – the one that said she had secrets she was dying to share, but not just yet.

  Luce knew he hadn't a hope in Hell of getting them out of her until she was ready to divulge them. Not even if he tried reading her...

  "No, Luce. My heart and soul are open to you, but not all of my thoughts. I share more with you than anyone else." She laughed. "Maybe even my breakfast, if you're willing to let me taste yours."

  They drove in silence until he pulled into the parking lot outside the ramshackle building beneath the sign proclaiming it to be the famed bakery with the "legendary brekkie". Australians would shorten anything, Luce thought as they climbed the timber steps to the veranda. Mel led the way between the crowd of mismatched tables and chairs until they reached a pair of hideous armchairs that were fifty years old if they were a day. She sank into the brown striped one, leaving him the mossy green, and picked up a menu.

  Mel offered to go up to the counter to place their order, so Luce stretched his legs out and reclined while he waited. He could see Mel through the window, standing under three chandeliers that spanned the five decades his chair had been around. The whole place looked like a retirement home for elderly furniture – too young to be antiques, but too old to be allowed in any modern home-owner's abode.

  Mel returned with a bottle of juice and a number on a metal stand. She set them on the table and surprised Luce by sliding onto his lap instead of her own chair. Throwing her legs over the chair's arm, she pulled Luce in for a long kiss.

  "Tell me how many people are here, my love," her soul-voice whispered.

  "Three behind the counter and in the kitchen, six inside and outside...seven...no, eleven, plus us." Luce felt the energy signatures of a family of four climb the steps to the veranda.

  "And how many plan on going surfing today?"

  Luce snorted. "None. With the crazy swell left over from yesterday's storm, anyone who's going to is out there now."

  "No. One – the cook's planning on going when he gets off work this afternoon. His thoughts are a litany of prayers that there will still be some waves for him." She paused. "No, no need for regret or guilt. I'm trying to help you extend your existing abilities. It may be that your skills don't lie in soul-reading. Well, outside of our bond, of course. Can you tell me what my most ardent desire is right now?"

  Probably not his craving for more sex from the sexy angel on his aching lap, Luce decided, pushing deeper into her soul. Ohhh...

  Her most ardent desire was for an answer. If she were to offer him dominion over Heaven, Earth or Hell, or a partnership with her, she feared he might choose power over love. She wanted him to tell her his choice.

  "Melody, there is no Heaven without you," he whispered, holding his angel tight. "Earth is empty and Hell can offer me no greater pain than to be parted from you, if I lose you.
And I speak from experience."

  A smothered giggle got their attention. "Um, your order?" The waitress set out their coffee and breakfast on the table between the armchairs while Mel left Luce's lap for her own chair.

  Mel accepted a taste of his mushrooms, but her fat stack of pancakes was far too much for her to finish. She managed just enough of them for the berry compote to stain her lips a tempting shade of red before she offered the plate to Luce. He grinned, plied his fork and made quick work of the column of cakes. Then he leaned across the table to claim a kiss.

  "I love you," Mel's soul-voice sighed.

  Luce could still feel the warmth of her love as she moved away from him. Triumph buzzed in his brain. Finally, he could reach her soul without touching her.

  Mel's thoughts strayed to her need to return to the bakery counter for a takeaway purchase. She invited him to share her thoughts while she was inside.

  He watched her head for the counter, where she waited in line for an interminable ten minutes before collecting a foam box so big he could barely see her behind it. Her thoughts drifted over the items in the box and Luce found himself rising to join her at the counter.

  "I hope you put extra chocolate sauce in there. Twice as much as the strawberries need. Because the minute I start licking it off fruit, I'm going to want to lick it off some warmer, smoother curves and to Hell with the strawberries." Luce's words made both Mel and the girl behind the counter blush a deep shade of strawberry. Luce pressed his lips to Mel's neck. "You're sweeter than anything in that box."

  Three pots of chocolate sauce disappeared into the box before the girl replaced the lid. "Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon," she said, giggling.

  Luce grabbed the box and pulled Mel outside before she could respond. It wasn't until they were safely in the closed car that he said, "You never cease to surprise me. Up until this morning, I'd have sworn your only response to that would've been to tell me off for making the girl feel uncomfortable and for not controlling my libido."

  "What makes you think I still won't?" Mel replied, her thoughts fading into fog.

  "Nothing. You're an angel, so you're supposed to help me be good. But you wanted to lick warm chocolate off my body as much as I wanted to slide my tongue across yours. And that isn't something I'd expect of an angel as pure as you." He should have been disappointed in finding that Mel had flaws, but Luce found it excited him beyond belief. Maybe Mel would be willing to...

  "I'm not perfect," she said softly. "I have desires – yes, strong desires – just like anyone else. I can control them and, on the rare occasions I do indulge, channel the pleasure from them so that no one is harmed. I'm an angel and I don't let my personal wants get in the way of what's right. Compared to the wellbeing of your soul, my desires don't matter."

  Luce leaned over and cupped her cheek so her eyes met his. "They matter to me."

  Curiosity drove him to dip into her thoughts as he drove. She watched the road, too, with a gentle hum of happiness in the background of her thoughts. A gust of wind brought down a shower of leaves and an edge of regret crept in – she didn't want this trip to end. Well, nor did he, but he had to make sure she'd completely recovered. A month hadn't seemed like enough, but he could feel the power pulsing from her soul this morning.

  Luce's heart froze. Mel had recovered. He'd succeeded and that meant their holiday was over. Damn.

  "The holiday bit, yes," Mel said softly and it took Luce a moment to realise she'd spoken aloud. "If I no longer need to rest, then I must return to my tasks."

  "Can't we take another week? Just the two of us? We have the loft for another fortnight. Surely we're entitled to enjoy our holiday, too," Luce pleaded, hating the weakness in his voice. Just the thought of losing her to whatever political crisis needed her next, as he stayed in HELL without her.

  "We don't need to return to the office just yet. I have work to do here, and so do you, my love." Luce stared at her and she smiled as she continued, "It's time I took my duties as your mentor seriously. If you won't accept a more experienced mentor, I hope you'll be willing to forgive me if I do things out of order. It's been a long time since I helped a new angel find their place in Heaven and you are unique. If you wish to leave Hell behind, you can. We just need to work out where your talents lie and which angelic choir you feel you wish to work with."

  "Leave Hell? You're serious?" Luce couldn't seem to close his mouth. "Never have to go back? But I'd have to work with angels instead of demons. Even if I'm willing, no angel will want to work with me." From the heights of hope, his heart had plummeted again.

  "I love working with you," Mel said warmly. "Patrick and Koyane already accept you and I know you and Patrick make a good team. Not all angels dislike you, Luce."

  Luce snorted. "And how many dislike you?"

  "There are few who would admit to openly disliking me, but there are some who disagree with me, who prefer not to live and work here under my authority. Ones who would prefer an eternity without me in it. Isn't that dislike, though more passive than the way some feel about you?"

  Surprised, Luce didn't know what to say. Everyone loved Mel – demons and angels alike. Who could possibly take offence at anything she did? "Name one."

  Mel sighed. "Some are fallen angels and they blame any powerful angel who didn't take their side in the Heavenly Battle. And then there's Hades."

  "Him? What's he got against you?"

  "Persi. When he abducted Persi, I was the one to bring her back out of the darkness. He'll never forgive me for taking Persi from him." She closed her eyes. "Or for not supporting him in his bid to rule Hell."

  "He wanted Hell? Let him have it, Mel. I don't want it. Not any more."

  She shook her head. "He demonstrated his poor judgement with Persephone. He's not an angel and he probably never will be. That's why he caretakes the Underworld now, and Hell has a different master. It will be challenging to find a different angel to take your place in Hell, but if I must, then I will."

  What? That couldn't be right. "You mean the Lord of Hell doesn't have to be a demon?"

  "Of course not. You're not a demon and you're the Lord of Hell."

  But not for long, Luce swore. She'd let him leave it forever and find something better to do.

  Mel pointed at a road up ahead. "Ooh, turn left here, please. Follow this road all the way – we're headed for the rocks."

  They drove in silence until they reached the end of the road – a car park beside some haphazard piles of granite boulders. The strong, salty breeze hit them the minute they left the confines of the car.

  Luce jerked his head at the Jaguar. "Do you want me to grab the box?"

  Mel shook her head. "No, I'm still stuffed from breakfast. We can come back for morning tea and lunch after I've walked off some of those pancakes. So nice...but so much!"

  His fingers closed around hers. "So, where to first?"

  "The boardwalk, I think, and then we should go see some of the rock pools. It should be coming up on low tide soon, so it's the best time to see them." As she tugged on his arm, there was little he could do but follow her swift steps. Excitement radiated off her, as if she was a human child and not an angel older than the granite beneath their feet. "I heard that. You called me old. This rock is older than both of us – and you're no younger than me, Luce."

  He conceded the point and followed her along the boardwalk. Their steps thumped dully on the damp beams, carrying them closer to the waves. The waves were on Mel's mind, too, and when they reached the bridge he saw why. "You can't...tell me you're not doing that!" he hissed in her ear.

  "I can't lie, Luce."

  He watched the waves calming into a gentle swell, rippling the surface with the wind. The amount of power it took to control that volume of water would undo all last night's healing and he'd be lucky to be able to carry her home.

  Mel laughed. "I'm only doing what you showed me last night. Come closer, my love, and you'll see how." She pulled his arms around her so that h
er back rested against his chest. "Close your eyes, my love."

  He lowered his lids and reached deeper into her soul. He'd never been so deep inside her before – no, not even during sex. He felt her amusement and the pressure of gentle guidance as he followed her focus to the turbulent waters. She was using the power of the waves themselves, spreading it evenly with a gentle touch of her own energy. "Feel me," she whispered, reaching for an incoming wave. Its energy burst like a bubble, trickling into the water beneath. "The next one's yours."

  Luce felt the wave rather than saw it, the course of power raising the ripple into a crest that wanted to crash. He pulled the energy from it, concentrating it like he had the flare last night. Mel had used the power to flatten the crests and raise the troughs, hadn't she? Without waiting for her command, Luce reached for the next wave, too. There was more power in this one, but he knew how to seize it now.

  He felt Mel's agitation. "Let it go, Luce."

  His attention turned to her – only her – as confusion messed with his focus. Let it go where?

  Mel screamed as the wave crashed over the boardwalk railing, sending a wash of water over their feet. When she caught her breath, the next sound was far more intelligible. "Luce! If you'd wanted to see me in a wet t-shirt, all you had to do was ask."

  Luce stared at Mel's soaked shirt and skirt. She'd taken the brunt of the water, shielding him from most of it. He'd taken a faceful of brine and his shoes were full of it, too, but he didn't understand how he'd pulled the wave to them instead of calming it as Mel had.

  Mel sighed and showed him her memory, for she'd kept her eyes open. The small wave had dissipated, but the unusually large one behind it had increased as he'd bundled the energy of the little one with the other. Then his focus had shifted to Mel and, as he'd still been controlling the wave, it had come racing toward them, too.

  "I'm sorry!" he blurted out, but it didn't seem adequate.

  Always an angel, she sounded soothing. "It was bad timing on my part, I think. The king wave was headed here anyway and I distracted you at precisely the wrong moment. Good thing I brought a change of clothes – the waves out here are usually unpredictable, even without you messing with them."