Duncan’s Descent: Ethereal Foes series

by Marie Harte

  “Really, Asael.” Asael could see embarrassment clouding Charmeine’s dark eyes. “I didn’t come here for this.”

  “Maybe not. But the last time we were together, you came all the same.”

  Zelec choked on his laughter, but Asael didn’t hold back. He chuckled at his play on words, more amused when Charmeine cracked the floor of his hall with one hard stomp of angelic righteousness.

  “I don’t have time for this.” She raised a graceful hand and pointed at Zelec, her voice a heavenly reminder that Charmeine was not one to toy with. She let out a soul-shattering song of love and forgiveness that had Zelec shuddering and on his knees. Asael fought not to let the pain show, but his anger he gave free reign.

  “You do not come into my realm and threaten, Charmeine.” Standing, he crossed to her and towered over her smaller frame. With blood in his eyes and fire in his heart, he let loose a ring of flame to surround the Virtue. “State your purpose and depart, before I forget old times.”

  “Your son had no right to my daughter. She is meant for better things than Decision.” The scorn in her voice soured him. And once again Asael praised the devil for giving him the sense to heed his inner warnings and Descend. “In your son’s keeping, my daughter has turned a half-dozen souls these last few days. And all of them have gone to hell.” Charmeine’s eyes glowed with fervor. “Sapphira will take over for me when I pass on. She is meant to provide guidance and harmony to those better than humanity, to those better than the pathetic first-sphere minions poised to do nothing more than grapple with your kind for control over a populace better off dead.”

  “Why, Charmeine, your good breeding is starting to show.” Asael sighed when she refused to relent. Her lips curled in stubborn resentment, she continued. “The day is coming, Asael, when the reign of man will be no more. The Ethereal shall fight for His will to be done. And your realm will crumble under the weight of our holy light.”

  “Then why, Charmeine, if His will is to crush the middle and lower realms, do we exist?” He pointed to Zelec, who had regained his feet. “Why allow the Abyss to stand, for demonkind to punish those in the Ordinary? Hell, why allow any of the fallen to exist?”

  She fumed but said nothing.

  “I’ll tell you why. Because He wants balance. The universe, all creation, needs it. Without my kind and our inherent darkness, you have no light. So piss off, Charmeine. And let my son and your daughter do their jobs.”

  It delighted Asael to no end to realize a Virtue’s progeny was working to put souls in hell.

  “You don’t worry that something might happen to Duncan should he stand in the Creator’s way?”

  Asael raised one black brow in a perfect arch. “Do you threaten my son, now, Charmeine?”

  “I threaten no one. I’m merely warning you to be careful. There are forces at play that you know nothing of. And Sapphira has a destiny far beyond the Ordinary and the Abyss.”

  She waved a hand dismissively. And Asael wondered why she was down here bugging him when she should have been talking to her daughter about all this.

  “Where is Sapphira, now, Charmeine?” he asked blandly. “I’ll talk to her and Duncan, set them straight for you.”

  She tugged at one long, snowy sleeve. “She’s in the Ordinary, convinced by blessed Uriel she’s needed there.” Charmeine cleared her throat. “But it’s Duncan who’s puzzling. I hear he’s turning her against her nature. And that, Asael, also interrupts the balance.”

  Ah, so that’s why Charmeine was itchy. Her daughter wouldn’t conform, and she had no way of controlling the contrary girl. Asael liked her more already. “How old is she, Charmeine? Can’t you demand obedience? Even angels have a hierarchy and set of rules. Don’t blame Duncan for your daughter’s misdeeds.”

  “She’s old enough to know better.” Charmeine twisted her hands, and Asael decided to have a bit of fun with her.

  Zelec suddenly sent Asael a mass of images and thoughts that had Asael smiling with anticipation. No doubt about it, after Charmeine left, Zelec was due a promotion.

  “You know, we were together not so long ago. And our passion burned brightly.”

  Her head shot up, and she locked gazes with him. “What do you mean?”

  “Young Sapphira has your beauty, my Virtue. But her stubbornness, her height and strength…she’s much more like her father.” He paused, just long enough to make her draw her own conclusions. “The young human I possessed one very special night so long ago. When you refused me, my dear, I took the form of another…of a human. And it pleases me to no end to see that my daughter takes after her real father. You know, I even think she looks a bit like me.”

  Charmeine shrieked her denial and began shouting.

  “Yes, my daughter.” He reveled in her pain. “And she’s been fucking her brother for several days, correct, Zelec?” By the fire, her reaction was everything he’d hoped.

  “Yes, my lord. Quite thoroughly, I might add. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was soon breeding.”

  His fictional relationship with her daughter had Charmeine looking faint, and Asael wanted to howl with glee.

  She cried, “You lie. I’d know it if… I’d sense that you…”

  “What’s wrong, my dear? Was her existence meant to be a secret? Was I never supposed to know my daughter? And yet she shares my very nature, does she not?”

  Charmeine sobbed hysterically and vanished.

  Zelec began clapping. “Oh, very nice, my lord. Well done.”

  “Indeed.” Asael bowed. “You don’t think I overdid it?”

  “Not at all.” Zelec grinned, a sight Asael didn’t often see. “That touch of incest sent her over the edge.”

  “I thought it might. But it was your information that helped drive her away. Why don’t you take the next week off? Go haunt a human. Fuck a few or possess them, whatever you like. Enjoy yourself.”

  Zelec bowed. “My thanks. And I’ll let Eve know to come directly to you once she finds Duncan. No doubt about it, Duncan’s really stirred some trouble this time. Screwing with the upper realm.” Zelec smirked.

  Asael nodded with pride. “That’s my boy.”

  “And your angelic daughter?”

  Asael laughed. “Sounds vastly intriguing. I can’t wait to meet her.”

  Charmeine didn’t know what to do. She’d tried for so very long to put the past behind her. Devoted herself to her work, prayed and repented all the time. And she’d demanded nothing but perfection from Sapphira—the evidence of her past transgression, and a sin she’d never give up, not even if it meant expulsion from the upper realm.

  Dear Lord, that child meant the world to her. After three thousand years of constant devotion, she’d been rewarded with a baby, a little girl. For a while, she’d imagined the beauty in Sapphira a reward for such staunch holiness. Her child held such a wealth of insight and power in her small hands. Sapphira was far from perfect, however, and Charmeine took that as a sign to work harder. To repent her own sins and endeavor to pull her daughter with her, closer to the first sphere and heaven’s perfection.

  With time, Sapphira had grown from a beautiful child into a beautiful woman—one bent on her own destruction. Like Charmeine, Sapphira had lain with humans. And now, it seemed, she’d followed her mother’s path yet again, having sex with a demon as well. But praise the Cherubim, Sapphira would not get with child…

  Charmeine had done her best to keep her daughter by her side and away from the temptations abundant in the other realms. But Sapphira wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t heed her mother’s words. And now she was not only working in the third sphere, but she was sending souls to hell…and having sex with her half-brother. What would her peers think? On the verge of hysterics again, Charmeine took a deep, calming breath, reaching for the harmony she cultivated so easily in the second sphere.

  Arriving home, she immediately Called Raphael and Seir, the only two angels she knew of who loved Sapphira as much as she did. And while she waited, she cast
igated herself for not foreseeing this ugly possibility.

  Charmeine knew she herself was to blame. Pride had insisted she keep the identity of Sapphira’s father a secret. A human was bad enough. The few progeny of angels and humans inevitably turned evil. Nephilim, they were called, and as impure as the fallen themselves. But Sapphira had seemed so different, so bright. Yet it now appeared Sapphira’s father wasn’t human, but a demon in disguise.

  Thoughts of her daughter indulging in the baser acts of sexuality with her brother made Charmeine ill, and she was half out of her mind with worry when Raphael and Seir appeared.

  “Dear Virtue.” Seir held her gently and wiped her tears, his strong arms a balm to her battered soul.

  “Easy, Charmeine.” Raphael, one of the wisest Principalities, spoke. Though fairly young and from a sphere below hers, this particular angel radiated calm authority. “How may we be of assistance? We felt your pain as soon as we stepped into your home.”

  “It’s Sapphira.” Relieved when both angels lit with concern, she shared her worries, confessing her sins with veracity and remorse.

  “Sister, you did as best you could.” Seir rocked her in his arms, his color a perfect match to her own. “Will it ease your burden if Raphael finds Sapphira and explains to her your concerns?”

  “Perhaps we should bring you two together, that you might soothe the rift that’s been growing between you for so long,” Raphael added gently, though in his voice she heard disapproval. “You cannot grieve when you don’t know the truth of the matter. Asael has lied before. Who’s to say he’s not lying now?”

  “You may be right.” Charmeine sniffed, and like magic, her tears dried up and her face shone with radiance. “Find her, dear friends. And we’ll restore the harmony that’s been missing for so long. You’re right. With love we can cure all our ills, our hungers and lost hopes.”

  Seir and Raphael murmured their agreement and turned to leave. They found Uriel staring at Charmeine in surprise, a veil of anger on his face.

  “Uriel, we must talk,” she said quietly. She nodded to her daughter’s protectors, pleased that at least she could count on them to help her and Sapphira find peace. “Go with our blessings, and walk with hope.”

  Rafe and Seir bowed their leave, ignoring Uriel in their wake.

  “He is such an ass,” Seir muttered as they teleported to the Ordinary.

  “True.” Rafe sighed as they landed in an alley filled with refuse and a few bodies strewn about. “But this mess with Sapphira, that’s a headache, for sure. She’s been Uriel’s problem, and Charmeine’s, for years.”

  “Too long.” Seir nodded. “Think we should have told Charmeine not to worry?”

  Rafe chuckled. “Are you kidding? Pride goeth before the fall, my brother. And she’s needed to step back and take stock of reality for some time.”

  “I can’t argue with that.” Seir stepped around a wide-eyed homeless man and smiled. “Don’t worry, my friend, today you will count your blessings and rise to begin a new tomorrow.”

  The man stood on unsteady legs and blinked at the bulging wallet suddenly in his fist.

  “Well, hell.” He stared at the wallet, then at Seir and Rafe. With shaking hands, he held out two twenties.

  “Sir?” Seir held up his hands, not wanting the money. “The gift was freely given.”

  “Sure.” The guy coughed and glanced away from Seir, only to stare wide-eyed at Rafe as well. “But since you’re giving gifts, thought I’d do the same. You two better cover up those bare asses before the cops find you. They don’t take much to nudity around here.”

  Seir and Rafe glanced at each other.

  “Oh, right.” Seir snapped his fingers, wishing it was as easy to fix humanity’s difficulties. Clad now in the common clothing worn by many in the city, he and Rafe flashed the man smiles of gratitude and began walking down the alley out into the bright sunshine downtown.

  “You have to admit,” Rafe said, ignoring passersby craning their necks for a better look at Ethereals in jeans. “Asael has a gift for storytelling.”

  Seir chuckled. “He does at that. Sometimes I really miss him.”

  “Me, too,” Rafe agreed. “But we knew his place was not in the upper realm.”

  Seir wished it had been otherwise. “I know. Still, being gifted with children had to help soothe the sting of banishment to the lower realm. Asael knew his course, and he took it without a word of protest. A better angel I’ve never known.” He grinned at his best friend and fellow keeper of balance. “Well, except for you, of course.”

  “Right.” Rafe sighed. “So instead of grabbing a cheese steak,” he paused as they stared at a hole-in-the-wall diner with an available booth visible through the window. “I suppose we need to find Sapphira and explain a few things.”

  Seir nodded. “But, you know, it wouldn’t hurt to give Sapphira more experience in the Ordinary. That poor girl has been chomping at the bit for some fun.”

  “You know it’s only a matter of time, Seir.”

  Like Asael, Sapphira had never been meant for the upper realm. But her time there had given her a perspective many in the lower realm sorely lacked. “I know. But Sapphira needs to assimilate. And if I know Duncan at all, he’s the one to help her.”

  Rafe’s eyes twinkled as they changed their course toward the diner. “You mean the one to spread those luscious thighs and commune with her.”

  “Exactly.” They entered, sat, and quickly ordered two mouthwatering plates of greasy food. “So let’s give him a few more days to commune the hell out of Sapphira. I figure it’ll take him that long to realize how much he truly loves her.”

  “Once he catches his breath. I wonder if the nephilim were originally intended to replace the succubae? Because I’ve yet to meet one who wasn’t both incredibly beautiful and sexual.”

  Seir nodded his agreement. Trust Duncan, a demon with his own bevy of admirers, to land a gorgeous nephilim—the progeny of an angel and a human. Though Seir had wished it so, he knew Sapphira wasn’t meant for the upper realm. The nephilim never were. They thrived in the Ordinary and in the Abyss.

  “Let’s enjoy our meal. Then I’ll contact Zelec while you try to delay Uriel from interfering more than he already has.”

  Rafe sighed. “I know he means well, but he’s got a stick up his ass the size of Mount Rushmore.”

  “I don’t think it’s the size of the stick up his ass that has him so popular with the ladies, though, do you?”

  The pair laughed and ate, and Seir realized he was already missing Sapphira. “Some might say it was cruel the way Charmeine tried to keep the girl from her path.”

  “Some might. But you and I know Charmeine did it out of love,” Rafe said around a mouthful of fries. “Now this, my friend, is the definition of balance. The heavenly taste, the nutritional hell.”

  Seir ate his lunch, thinking of Sapphira and her fight for balance. He could only hope her struggle went down as smoothly as his black and white shake. And with an appreciative groan, he surrendered to his stomach, again ignoring the Call from his favorite nephilim. All in good time, Sapphira. All in good time.

  ***

  Duncan stared at Sapphira, concerned at her half-hearted attempts to sway those on the brink. And he wanted to know why she kept putting out the Call to his friends Rafe and Seir. Something was definitely wrong with his angel.

  His angel.

  For days he’d been thinking of her as such, and to his consternation, it no longer bothered him. She was his, dammit. He’d taken her in most every way possible to take a woman, bringing her untold pleasures until she begged him to finish her. And he knew she was happy with him. Until she’d get that look in her eye, the one that told him she was thinking about the upper realm.

  Damn those idiots for maligning her spirit, for taking a soul as full of shadows as Sapphira’s and trying to mold it into the perfect angel’s.

  “All right, that’s it.” Duncan grabbed her by the arm and swung her aw
ay from their current sway.

  “Hey, I was talking to her,” the young man said, holding onto his enlightening pamphlets with the zeal of an alcoholic clutching his last bottle of vodka. “We’re finding common ground, here, brother.”

  Duncan rolled his eyes and stopped the younger man from talking with a softly uttered command.

  “Duncan, I’m trying to see this one. I almost had him.”

  “No, what you almost had is contact with the Principalities you’ve been reaching out to for days.” He smiled grimly at her shock. “Yes, I know all about Rafe and Seir. They’re good friends of mine.”

  “What?” She stared at him as if he had three heads. “You’re friends with angels?”

  “With Principalities.” At her blank look, he sighed and waved at their sway.

  The young man woke and scowled. “Hey, what are you—”

  Duncan socked him hard in the gut, and the young man went down. “Shut up and search your own soul, asshole. Heaven or hell, it’s your pick. We’ll be back tomorrow to hear your decision.”

  The guy coughed and tried to yell for help while Duncan shook his head in disgust and waited for Sapphira to join him.

  “Really, Duncan.” She stepped over their sway with laughter in her voice, surprising him that she could find humor in the situation when she worried constantly. Just one more reason he loved her.

  Oh shit. He’d finally admitted it. Not good. Not good at all. His sister’s love with a dragon was bad enough. But at least dragons lived in the lower realm and coexisted with demons. Affection for an angel went beyond stupid. Complete and utter opposite ends of the spectrum.

  “Come on.” Duncan flashed them back to his penthouse, and sat Sapphira next to him on the couch. Avoiding his feelings, he focused on her issues. “Now let’s talk about the Principalities. Tell me what you know about them.” Around Sapphira, he kept forgetting how new she was to all this. She caught on so quickly, and her intelligence often convinced him that she’d had centuries of experience with the Ethereal instead of years.