by Michele Hauf
And very dissatisfying.
A Fallen could only achieve pleasure by mating with a muse. That was how it worked.
“Stupid rules.” He shouldered past a dancer in black leather and headed toward the club’s back door. The atmosphere appealed, dripping with sweat, alcohol and the vein-throbbing beat. “But I got her off, lucky girl,” he muttered. “Talk about being kissed by an angel. Ha!”
His own muse had been on her deathbed when he’d located her in a village east of Berlin. One look at him, in all his angelic glory—okay, half—and she’d seized and gone into cardiac arrest. He hadn’t attempted her dying body. Wasn’t as though a dead woman could carry his child to term.
“Bitch.”
But that meant he was entitled to go after whatever muse stepped in his way. If he chose a muse who had a Fallen tracking her, he’d have to battle that one to win her. He wasn’t sure the fight was worth the outcome.
On the other hand, he was itching for his own pleasure.
Lucky thing he’d stumbled onto number six. She wasn’t matched to a Fallen one. That meant either her match had been slain before the flood, or it hadn’t been conjured yet.
Why he had been conjured to walk the earth was a puzzle to Zaqiel, but he didn’t ponder it. He was free. He intended to get him some muse.
Maybe he could seduce the poor bit of breasts and legs and convince her he would make a lovely boyfriend. He could get his rocks off while she carried his child. Of course, she wouldn’t survive the birth. But by then he’d be on to another muse. Another nephilim unleashed to inflict havoc.
Such a lovely circle.
Only problem was the Sinistari in his wake. Rather, he wasn’t tracking Zaqiel, the damned demon had beat him to the muse and waited with poisoned blade poised.
“He’s probably bedding her,” he muttered. “Tainting the muse. Idiot Sinistari. They live for debauchery.”
Not that he couldn’t get behind a healthy helping of debauchery.
“All’s fair, then. You taint my bitch. I’ll snatch her from you and see she gives birth to your most hideous nightmare.”
“Inside you is the best place on this earth,” Ashur whispered at Eden’s ear.
Yes, Eden. She’d given him her name as she’d climaxed earlier. He hadn’t immediately known what to do with that information. It wasn’t as though he could unhear it. Forget it? No, the name fluttered lushly within his brain, spinning reminders of earlier times and yet invoking sensory dreams of gorgeous gardens where they could romp naked.
They snuggled on the bed, she before him, her back sealed to his chest with perspiration. He was still inside her, pumping slowly, not wanting to leave. Ever.
“Ever Eden,” he said. “Mine.”
“You mean it?” she said from her drowsy slip into sleep. “I could be. I want to be.”
“You are.” For now, he thought. And that was all he could give her.
Yet what if he could claim her? Keep her as a lover while he stalked his prey? It would be doable. Love wasn’t necessary to share one’s body. And he couldn’t imagine seeking any other woman now that he’d lain with Eden.
She gave him things she couldn’t be aware of. A soft place to rest his head when he was not stalking the Fallen. Escape from duty. She easily accepted him and the bizarre events surrounding them. She touched his joy with a smile and laughter that echoed inside his chest so gaily it ached.
Eden was his sweet ache.
He would claim her as his own. Damn the angel who thought to attempt his woman.
Chapter 20
He didn’t need a soul to claim Eden as his lover. He definitely didn’t require a soul to slay angels. In fact, a soul was out of the question. The moment Ashur decided to claim his earthbound soul his slayer days would be over.
Then he’d be left a common mortal to walk this earth.
With Eden. If she would have him.
Ashur weighed the choices. He had no compunction toward slaying until all the Fallen were extinguished.
And then what? He’d be left to walk the earth as a Sinistari, forever in fear of finding love, of being banished Beneath. It was an option he could live with, because it could take millennia more for that to occur.
Of course, Eden’s natural death would arrive too quickly in that time. And he doubted she’d prefer him as a demon lover when there existed an option to make love to her as a human.
And with a human soul he need never fear a return to Beneath or torture.
Was he so weak he would succumb to the lure of the mortal flesh? He could have it and not take a soul.
“But not without Eden.”
It all hinged on Eden. Eden, Eden, Eden. Why had she given her name to him? By speaking her name she had fixed herself into his black heart with tenterhooks.
And by the black sea Beneath, he’d no desire to snap those hooks loose.
Sure, if he walked the world for centuries he may find another Eden. Someone who may appeal to his black heart. But he didn’t want to. He’d sat Beneath for too long. Waiting. Just…being. Knowing he was without the joy he jealously guarded deep within his heart.
This time on earth he could make things different. Why not? It was his right to take the soul he was owed. Why deny himself again? For once he had a reason to want to change.
Promise you’ll protect me.
He’d vowed to her he would protect her, and he had no intention of breaking that vow. Eden Campbell, his sweet ache, soft on the outside and wild on the inside.
Decided, Ashur flashed to a quiet hill in the Italian countryside. Around him fields of tall grass waved in greens and gold. A cavalcade of honeybees buzzed the flower tops, their legs weighed heavily with fragrant gold booty.
Nothing like this existed Beneath. And should he remain on earth long after slaying all the Fallen, he would not see this world as he saw it now. Unadulterated and pure, untainted by his vicious desire to grab all the sin he could handle and devour it.
Eden could give him this pureness.
“Raphael,” he whispered, putting intent into the syllables.
The air shimmied through his hair. Clouds zipped by overhead, much faster than usual. Imminent rain flavored the darkening sky. Ashur could taste it in his inhalations.
The sky brightened as if a nuclear explosion occurred.
Ashur fell to one knee and lowered his head. Though Raphael appeared in form viewable by mortals, the Sinistari were not allowed to look upon such divinity. And if they were allowed, Ashur respected the archangel far too much to taint him with his black regard.
“I am surprised at your change of heart,” Raphael said.
Ashur sensed his master would say more and remained submissive.
“Have you grown tired of the hunt? How is that possible when you’ve only been on earth this short time?”
“It is that I’ve tired of Beneath,” he said, truthfully and with conviction. Yet he winced. Was he doing the right thing?
“It is a rather dismal place.”
“I wish to receive an earthbound soul upon my next kill. With Zaqiel’s death.”
“It is every Sinistari’s right…”
That pause meant something else was coming.
“Except for the Stealer of Souls.”
Raphael’s declaration pushed through Ashur’s chest like a wave of sludge. He wanted to choke it up, expel it, but he could only listen—and obey.
“You push the rules to fit your needs, Ashuriel. I do not dispute your desire for reward. You would not be demon, otherwise, if you were not selfish.”
So true. He would bring his demonic mien with him when he was human. Yet he would shuck off his demonic hungers. He must show Eden he could be a good man.
“Such determination, Sinistari. Very well. But first, tell me, why do you want a soul?”
Ashur sucked in his breath. If he revealed the truth, even thought it, Raphael would know, so instead he said what was mostly true. “I remember what it was like before, when
I wanted a soul. That wanting has not left me.”
Yet her name eluded his grasp. The woman who had given birth to a beautiful child. The woman he had loved.
“Even after the torture? Impressive. I will see to granting your earthbound reward when Zaqiel is dispatched. With one stipulation, if you will.”
The exception. “Anything, my lord.”
“Since you are the master Sinistari you will be greatly missed amongst the dwindled ranks. Situations must be remedied. Loose ends tied up.”
Ashur nodded compliance, but he didn’t understand.
“You see, I wish to ensure all details of this unholy match between the Fallen and muse are ended. Destroyed. Rendered complete. In other words, after Zaqiel is slain, you must then kill the muse. Eden Campbell’s death is the key to you gaining a human soul.”
The angel flashed away, leaving a brilliant sheen before Ashur’s eyes. He blinked but it didn’t matter, he could not immediately see. His black blood grew icy. His muscles twitched as if sensing imminent torture.
Kill Eden?
He clutched his chest and yelled to Above, loosing his voice as he had never done before.
Chapter 21
Peter Campbell took Eden’s call after a ten-minute hold. He apologized. “My secretary did not tell me it was you, Eden. I was in a meeting.”
“It’s all right, Daddy. I’m lying here on the bed looking out at the lavender fields and thought I’d give you a call.”
“Lavender fields? You on vacation with friends, sunning yourself?”
“I’m at the villa. By myself, actually. I felt the urgent need to get away from the world.” She toed the rumpled sheets that she’d not made up after she and Ashur had made love. “There’s something I need to say, and I don’t want it to go any longer.”
“Is everything okay, Eden? I know it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other—”
“Everything is…” Everything wasn’t near okay, but it wasn’t so bad when Ashur was here. “I love you, Dad. And I needed to say it, because it’s not something that is ever easy or obvious to me.”
“I understand.” He didn’t return the endearment, but Eden found she didn’t need it right now. She had taken to heart Ashur’s suggestion that she accept her father’s means to express love for what it was.
The sun filtered through the tree boughs and twinkled across the wood floor. Eden closed her eyes, loving the warmth of summer upon her face.
“Do you believe in angels, Dad?”
“Eden, we’ve had this discussion before.”
Yes, as she sat in the psychiatrist’s office and denied her dreams as a means to simply be free. He’d never understood. Eden felt only her mother would have truly listened to her and given her the benefit of the doubt.
“So, you don’t believe in them. Not even the idea of a guardian angel?”
“Eden, are you okay? If you need to talk to someone—”
“Daddy, I’ve never been more sane in my life than I am at this very moment. Please don’t patronize me. I know you will never understand the dreams I have, and I accept that. Perhaps I shouldn’t have called.”
“No, wait. I’m sorry. I haven’t been a very good father. I should have been there for you after your mother’s death. Perhaps things could have gone differently for you.”
“My life has gone exactly as it was meant to. And as I move forward it continues on a destined path. I guess it was foolish to try to reach out to you.”
“No, Eden, please.” A heavy sigh sounded like frustration, but Eden wondered if it might be tinged with surrender. “Okay, I’ll play, then. I do believe.”
Eden actually took the phone away from her ear and looked at it as if she’d just received an alien transmission.
“I’ve been in the presence of them twice, that I’m aware of,” he said as she put the receiver back to her ear.
“Really? Did you see them? Were they physical beings?” Why had he never mentioned this before? Could she have inherited her dreams from her father?
“No, I merely felt their presence, but it was such a remarkable feeling I had no question that is exactly what I was experiencing.”
“Tell me about it. I promise I won’t call you crazy.”
His chuckle lasted only two seconds. “Well, the first is humiliating.”
“I won’t tell a soul.”
His sigh startled her. Usually her father’s sighs indicated how long he had worked and meant that the exhaustion would keep him from putting a puzzle together with her or reading her a bedtime story. She had come to know her father by his uttered noises. But why were all her memories of her father from her childhood, so long ago?
Because after her mother had died, they had changed, grown apart and grown away from the innate trust family must share.
“You were younger, about four,” he said. “And I was…well, I was spanking you for having broken your mother’s vase. I didn’t abuse you, Eden, you have to know that.”
“I do. And I don’t recall ever being fearsome of your punishments.”
“Yes, well, I did it rarely, and usually it was just a swat. But I was angry that day. It was a vase your mother bought. I know you didn’t mean to break it. I spanked you once, but when I tried to do it a second time, I could not. Something stopped me. It was as if I could feel a force pulling my arm back. I knew at that moment your guardian angel was in the room. I never spanked you again.”
“Go, guardian angel.”
“It wasn’t like the things you once claimed to see, Eden.”
She’d give him that false comfort. It didn’t matter to Eden now who believed her. She had the truth.
“Thank you for sharing that with me.” After all these years her father finally trusted her enough to tell her. Her father… It had been so long since she’d had real family. She felt a stirring for one of her own. But could she ever have her own family?
Ashur will leave you when the angel is dead. Don’t be stupid.
Swallowing a tear, Eden said, “What about the other time?”
“I had one of my migraines and went to the emergency room. I’d just received a dose of Imitrex and lay there on the exam table shivering. My eyes were closed, and the room was dark. When I heard a female voice ask, ‘Would you like a blanket?’ I knew it was a nurse. But when she brought the warm blanket and laid it over me it felt like heaven. My shivers stopped and my muscles relaxed. I think I cried. And again, I knew an angel had been present.”
“You’re very lucky. I’ve never felt the presence of an angel.” Until Zaqiel had entered her life.
“But I thought…”
“You never listened to me, Dad. I dream of angels, and I know they’re real, but I’ve never seen one.”
“I apologize for what I put you through after your mother’s death. I think a part of me died with her. I shouldn’t have let that affect our relationship. I’m sure my angels look nothing like the ones you paint. Your work is amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”
No, he had not. He’d never commented on her work. Eden’s eyes teared up.
“You have so much talent, Eden. And the way you put the images from your heart onto the computer screen and canvas…well, I love it. Is that…? I think it’s my way of saying…well, you know.”
She did know. He loved her. And she had always known it. Even though he didn’t exactly put it into the words, she could accept the way he’d expressed the emotion.
“Thanks, Dad. I love you, too.”
Ashur lingered by the back door, watching a sparrow collect bits of twig for a nest. Eden sauntered down the hallway, a long skirt flowing around her legs and a floaty shirt billowing about her. A change from her usual tighter, revealing clothing. It wasn’t half as delicious as the red underwear, but since it made him wonder what was beneath the fabric, it had the same effect as the lacy bits.
He nodded and winked. It felt natural to simply exist alongside her. As if he belonged here. Alongside his sweet
ache.
Eden Campbell’s death is the key to you gaining a soul.
That bastard Raphael.
But he could not blame the archangel. There was an order to the world. Ashur had violated that order by stealing souls. Of course order must be restored if he wished an earthbound soul.
He sighed as Eden wrapped her arms around his waist. In turn he hugged her tightly. If he could squeeze her into him, he would. Forever imbue her upon his flesh, imprint the soft pear smell of her in his senses. He wanted to bite her, lick her, enfold her within him and keep her from the rest of the world.
She pressed her head against his shoulder and he smelled the salt in her tears. He tilted her chin up and brushed the wetness from her cheek. “They don’t seem like sad tears,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“Actually I’ve never been happier. I told my dad I loved him this afternoon. I feel like the world just flipped on the sunshine.”
He hugged her to his chest again.
“Wow,” she said against his shirt, “that’s a mighty big hug. You miss me?”
“Always,” he whispered.
Something burned in his eyes. It wasn’t tears. Demons couldn’t cry. Yet it was painful and made him swallow hard.
Then something incredible happened. The hard black muscle forged of steel in the center of his chest…pulsed.
“I do need love,” Eden said. “We all do. Even you.”
Ashur’s heart pumped again.
Eden placed a palm over his chest. Her wide, green eyes flashed up at him. She had heard it, too, or may have felt it. The wonder in her eyes asked all the questions rushing to Ashur’s tongue.
“You did this to me,” he said. And though his words were soft and admiring, his feelings were accusatory.
“What are you saying? What did I do? Your heart, Ashur. It’s beating. Does that mean…?”
“No, it’s not. It’s just the souls.” But he couldn’t help wondering if he’d just lied to himself.
