by A. J. Norris
“That makes two of us.”
She twisted in her seat to face him. “What?”
“Never mind.” He flopped his head back again.
Her head cocked to the side while she regarded him. “What happened to you?”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me.”
“I’m not. I…never mind, you’re right. I’m totally not in a position to judge. You ever feel like a monster?”
He lifted his head and looked at her. “Every day.”
She sighed. “Me too.”
CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO
Ra’zael
Julia yawned then shut her eyes, reclining the seat. They were a pair, weren’t they? Two monsters side-by-side. On a train. Headed for disaster. Or redemption. Whichever came first. Raz still didn’t trust her. Jeremiah hadn’t entered this realm without help from Abaddon, the Supreme Demon’s little bitch-boy. The reason why wasn’t hard to figure out. Julia had summoned his master. But why? Raz needed to find out.
Julia exhaled softly, the sound so feminine and sexy, he hardened instantly. Her long, more strawberry than blonde hair was fanned over her breasts. He studied her features. She had a light sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Her eyebrows were a couple of shades darker than her hair.
So beautiful.
The seats in front of them were rear facing, allowing him and his wings enough room to kneel at her feet. He placed his hands on her thighs.
She gasped, “Hey.”
“Shh, it’s just me.”
What am I doing?
Rationally, he knew this was the worst idea, but he’d never been the rational type. Why start now? Impulsive was how Deus described him. The tension in her body eased. She’d changed clothes and now wore dark gray leggings of some sort, and a sweatshirt the back had been cut out of for her wings. He wondered if Abaddon had paid for the clothes as well. He slid his hand up the inside of her thigh, cupping the center of her through the thin layers.
Julia moaned. She placed a hand over the back of his. He let her. He massaged the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. Her lips parted, another gasp escaping her mouth. The urge to yank her pants down overtook his mind.
He wanted at her sensitive flesh. She must have been thinking the same thing, because when he curled his fingers around the waistband of her pants, she lifted her bottom. He pushed her leggings and panties down to her ankles and split her knees far apart. His hands reached behind her and scooted her forward. “Keep your hands on the armrests.” He dipped his head down. The first taste of honey made his whole body shudder.
Oh, Deus. He pressed two fingers inside her.
“Oh, yes,” she whispered. Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip.
“You like that?”
“Hmm mmm…don’t stop.” She trembled with each flick of his tongue, each suckling kiss. The warm, slippery walls pulsed around his fingers, drenching him. He undid the fly of his jeans and released his erection.
Her eyes popped open. “What are you doing?”
Her voice sounded edgy. If he wasn’t so wrapped up in the moment, he might have listened for the underlying meaning in her tone.
“What’s it look like?” he drawled breathlessly.
“Sex? I’m ready.”
“We’ll have to be quiet,” he told her. Raz pulled her hips off the cushion while he stooped over her. He guided himself into her channel with one hand and held her hips up with the other. There was a slight resistance and she was even tighter than he had fantasized. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he pushed in all the way with a groan. A surge of pleasure washed through him like a tidal wave. There was no stopping the tropical storm. With both hands holding her hips, he glided in and out, the strokes becoming harder and faster with the growing intensity of his ragged breaths.
Julia white-knuckled the armrests, her face strained. “Ohgod. Ohgod,” she said in short bursts. He briefly wondered if he was hurting her, but then again, she told him she was ready for him. The intercourse was consensual. So why did he feel like a monster?
What are you doing? echoed inside his brain.
He should stop, pull out. Yes. He slowed his pace and she pleaded, “Don’t stop. Finish.” Those three words were all it took. An orgasm blasted through him.
Raz rested his forehead on the top of the seat. They remained joined until he was able to control his breathing. He eased back and stood fully to fasten his pants. She suddenly looked so small to him. He outweighed her by at least seventy-five pounds or more in muscle. And he had a suspicion he’d just taken her virginity. Even though their previous sexual encounters led him to believe she was otherwise not a virgin.
Wonderful.
He shook his head.
“What’s the matter, did I do something wrong?” Julia asked tentatively.
“No,” he said and sat down across from her.
“Are you sure?” She pulled her pants up.
A long sigh pushed past his lips. “Was that your first time…I mean, going all the way?”
“Will I get pregnant?”
“Female angels have to be formally mated and gone through the ritual or be sanctioned for procreation.”
“You told me earlier that that was the reason you didn’t want sex. You lied, didn’t you?”
“To be honest—”
“Are you?”
“Let me finish. To be honest, I’m not sure if you’re an angel or not. If you’re an Ephemeral Spirit, like I think, you can’t get pregnant. Or you were an ES until you grew wings. Maybe still are. In any case, you can’t conceive.”
“What’s an ES?”
“A soul that temporarily exists as neither alive nor dead. It’s like a form of purgatory. Except on Earth.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I don’t know all that much about it,” Raz explained. “Basically you exist but you haven’t completely earned a place in Netherworld or Arcadia.”
“So you mean I’m stuck. That sucks. What about my wings?”
“Manifestation of Abaddon’s poison. The feathers are a good sign though.”
“Who would know more about my condition?”
“An angel named Virgil. We already ran into him at Bryant’s apartment building.” Her brows knitted together like she wanted to ask more questions. “You never answered my question. Were you a virgin?”
She blushed for the first time. “Yeah, sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” he smirked. “I am surprised, you were all…”
Julia smiled. “All talk?”
He leaned forward and ran his hands through his dark hair. “Oh, Julia, what am I going to do with you? You’re killing me.”
CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE
Jeremiah
The ram-horned, lesser demon arrived in the fiery realm in two pieces. Two animal-headed slaves set the halves on a marble slab in the cathedral. They aligned the head with the neck and waited until the parts knitted themselves back together. The bones fused, tendons and muscles repaired, then flesh and finally skin grew over where the wound had been. Jeremiah sat up, rubbing his neck. He tested his vocal cords. “Hell-ellooo.” His voice cracked like he was going through puberty. He tried different words until the sounds came out smoothly. There was no sense in feeling for his horns; he knew they were gone. The next thing he did was test to make sure his legs and the rest of his body worked. He stopped prancing around when he sensed his master.
“Jeremiah, you stupid goat!” Abaddon’s voice boomed off the high-domed ceiling. The Ruler’s eyes raked over where his horns should have been and snorted.
He knelt before the Supreme Demon of Netherworld. “How may I be of service, my Darkness?”
“Tell me what happened. And don’t leave anything out.”
“The female, she has wings with black feathers.”
Aba groaned and clenched his jaw. “What else?”
“I told her to kill Ra’zael the Guardian, like you said, and
then you might consider letting her keep the amulet…or…was it…you’ll consider allowing her to retrieve the amulet…” Jeremiah paused to think.
“Which is it? Oh, for fuck’s sakes, never mind. How did you happen to lose your head?”
“Hmm…oh, Ra’zael.”
“Ra’zael what, goat?” The Demon Ruler threw his hands up.
“Oh, he snapped my head off, of course.”
Aba narrowed his eyes on Jeremiah. “I know that, you idiot. Why?”
“I had the female by the throat.”
“Like this?” Aba seized his neck with both hands. The master was in his human looking form, but a good six inches taller than Jeremiah. “I thought I told you not to leave anything out?”
Aba flung Jeremiah across the room. His body flat-spun in the air. His stomach smacked the shiny black marble floor when he landed. Aba stalked toward him, his boots eating the distance in three long strides. The Ruler transformed into his beast form. He lifted Jeremiah off the floor by the throat and hurled him into a stone pillar.
Crack!
Marble chunks rained on his head. He lay crumpled in a heap, blood seeping from a gash on the back of the head. He didn’t dare so much as twitch a muscle; he played possum. The master grabbed his fetlocks and twirled around. Jeremiah’s head brushed the floor with each revolution. He closed his eyes and prayed the misery would end soon.
Aba got angry at his sycophants often and ripped them limb from limb, but never had Jeremiah witnessed him prolong their suffering. Quickly was how the Ruler did things around here. He was released and flew head first into a wall between two molten rock pits. Flames licked at his arms, singeing the hair.
Ow. Ow. Ow.
He scrambled backward on his belly, his hands squeaking on the marble.
A roar ricocheted all around.
His torture wasn’t over. Clumps of fur from his goat legs were yanked out at the roots. Tears spilled from his eyes. More and more wads from his coat piled up next to him. Aba laughed and flipped him over onto his back. His master’s eyes were ice blue.
“Where are your horns?”
“I don’t kn—”
“ENHHH! ENHHH! Wrong answer!” Aba hauled him by a hoof over to the pedestal in the center of the grand room. Iron cuffs and heavy chains appeared at the Ruler’s whim and were cranked around Jeremiah’s wrists. Aba left him alone, except the desertion wouldn’t last for long.
Jeremiah relaxed the tension in his body and allowed his muscles to go limp. If he was going to be ashed, he was going to embrace his death. Anything would be better than more of this helpless feeling. At least if he were turned into ash Aba couldn’t punish him physically anymore…except then his soul would be stuck here forever. And something told him, this wasn’t actually his home. What made him think that?
Shit…think, you stupid…Ra’zael…Ra’zael knew my name. How?
With renewed energy, he struggled against the restraints. He bucked and twisted, his cloven hooves thrashing about, pounding the marble beneath him. Chunks chipped off and scattered.
Aba returned with a chainsaw, the one Aza’zel always used. Jeremiah tried to picture him.
What color were his eyes?
Slate-blue. He pictured Ra’zael the Guardian. Same color. Same shape. Same. They were the same being.
“Oh, Deus!” The motor started and the chain moved. Jeremiah shouted over the rumble, “I’m an angel!” The Ruler cupped his ear pretending he couldn’t hear him. “I’m an angel!” He continued to shout over the saw. “You can hear me!” Aba raised the chainsaw over his head, poised to rip through flesh.
BOOM! Jeremiah’s hoof came down onto the table, splitting the slab in half. The anchors on the cuffs broke loose. He yanked and rolled away from the blade. The goat got himself upright and ran.
***
Abaddon
Jeremiah rolled out of the way of the chainsaw and bolted from the cathedral, clacking his cloven hooves on the stone floor. Abaddon the Darkness pitched his head back and roared. The fire pits dotting the perimeter of the great room blazed high, scorching the ceiling. What was happening? He was the almighty power, ruler of this realm. Why did he feel he was losing control?
He had two choices: one, chase after Jeremiah; or two, let the coward leave Netherworld. Chasing the goat would only prove to the other slave-demons that their master had weakened. He knew this to be true and it was the reason for his display of dominance with Jeremiah. Aba shoved the remains of the marble table into one of the molten rock pools. He shrank to his normal size and appearance. With his mind, he conjured up another slab and parked his bare ass on the warm top.
Well, this sucks.
Letting the fallen angel leave was the only option.
Aba whistled for his next closest beast and trusted errand boy. This SOB had the head of bull and wouldn’t dare leave the safety of Netherworld. He snorted. Safe…wasn’t that a crock? Of course, the demons with animal heads were the only true natives of the realm. Berus couldn’t speak but understood commands, and the true demon was loyal.
The beast stood before Aba, its beady red eyes drilling him. It had an iron ring pierced through the nose and one nipple. This creature differed from most of the other slave-demon. Fur didn’t grow on its legs; instead smooth red skin showed off the powerful muscles in its thighs. The only hair was a tuft located on the end of the whip-like tail. The horns protruding from the side of the head resembled a Texas Longhorn.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Aba asked, nodding his head at the floor. Without hesitation, Berus knelt down on one knee and bowed his head. Aba assumed the bulky beast was male, given the flat chest and well, bull-sized…
“Excellent. I have your cooperation. I’d hate to think otherwise.” The bull grunted once. “Jeremiah has been banished. Make sure it stays that way. Tell everyone.” Berus wasn’t completely non-verbal. The other natives communicated using grunts, clicks, snorts, and other noises Aba didn’t understand. Word always got around the dimension somehow. It had taken the Ruler several years to learn they were actually “speaking” to one another. The creature snorted and his nostrils flared wide.
Berus pivoted on his hooves and strode away. Clip-clop. Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop. The ground shook with every hammering step.
Aba left the cathedral and stomped over the footpaths that were surrounded by pools of bubbling liquid ore. In reality, the Demon was wandering aimlessly, he only looked like he had a purpose. He didn’t. After threatening his slaves with physical harm and causing some damage, he found his way to his chamber rooms. He was bored, with nothing to do that was of any interest to him. Even his ninety-nine females were too much hassle to deal with in his current mood. Not that a little ménage à quatre-vingt-dix-neuf wasn’t appealing. On second thought, what were his ladies doing?
Aba put his ear up to the harem room’s door and listened to his females. Suzie’s voice was the loudest. Her laughter could be heard over all the other chatter. He pressed his forehead to the ornately carved wooden door. His entire body sagged from the weight of his little world. He’d been losing control in tiny increments. His ladies always seemed to give him strength, although it didn’t last long. The Ruler held his breath and opened the door. All eyes turned toward him. Suzie, his favorite plaything, ambled forward.
“My females, how are you?” They all stared at him in shock. It was as if he never asked about their well-being. Come to think of it, he probably never had. They were his captives, not his girlfriends, not that they ever complained.
Suzie smirked. He let the insubordination slide because the others couldn’t see her face. She was naked and clean-shaven below the waist. Both her nipples were pierced. Aba hated that this turned him on.
He spread his arms wide and welcomed his harem. “Come to me.” Suzie reached him first. She placed her hands on either side of his face. She was only one he allowed to kiss him on the lips anymore. A dark-haired female with a tail slithered between them but stayed o
n her knees. This particular female had a talent he enjoyed.
“Yow, baby.” Suzie giggled against his mouth as the vixen belted her bottom with the thin whip-like appendage.
Two more females, one with spiral horns and the other with a forked tongue, clung to his sides. His hands stroked their lithe bodies.
Everyone else swarmed and surrounded him. They lifted him up and carried him over to the pile of large velvet pillows. Closing his eyes, he put his hands behind his head. He could feel power surging through his muscles, his soul. A buried, tender part of his spirit cared for the females. He’d never admit how much they all meant to him. He despised parting with any of them. Except for the one female he ousted years ago. She’d been so whiny. What was her name? It started with an “E.” Evita. Evie. She was a beauty though, firetruck red hair and black loose corkscrew horns. He’d stuck her in the Void as a guard.
Aba tried to stay in the moment, but his mind drifted. He mentally detached from what was being done to him, although physically he remained functioning, pretending to pay attention with an occasional moan or gasp. Stray thoughts of Amalya rolled around inside his brain. He’d failed to make her his hundredth harem member. Aba was convinced she was the one to complete his congregation. That which compelled him to amass one hundred females was an enigma; he only knew he must.
He closed his eyes to keep from rolling them. You think too much, that’s your problem.
Except…the nagging feeling he experienced every so often returned like a stone wall crashing down on top of him. A large, immoveable boulder sat on his chest, making it difficult to breathe, and he could forget about thinking clearly. He was paralyzed with fear.
A voice that wasn’t his own invaded his mind. Time’s running out for you. Four more amulets, only four more chances.
“Don’t remind me,” he said aloud to the voice, not fully understanding the urgency.
“Don’t remind you of what?” Suzie asked. He hadn’t even noticed until she spoke that she was straddling his hips.
