Only the Fallen (UnHallowed Series Prequel)

by Tmonique Stephens

  A jerk on her impromptu reins got her ride moving. It didn’t take long for light to spill over Gideon’s battered body and the scattered remains of several of Limbo’s inhabitants. But he was still alive and locked in combat with a winged serpent slightly smaller than her own.

  Shredded clothes flapped, giving her glimpses of the deep gashes to his chest and torso as the beast tried to shake him free. Pools of his gray essence floated in the void. Gideon couldn’t last much longer. He couldn’t die, not in the traditional sense, but he could turn from his UnHallowed state, to one of a true Darkling…or worse.

  The beast beneath her shuddered and picked up speed. It zeroed in on Gideon, despite the sword wedged in its mouth. The additional speed was a blessing as she watched the glint of his dagger plunge into the side of his beast over and over again. His name choked her throat, yet she dare not distract him.

  Too late! Their gazes clashed over the thrashing body he had trapped. Or had it trapped him? Dina couldn’t tell as his eyes widened in shock at her appearance.

  Then he was gone, throat caught between the jaw of his beast, dragged deeper into the void.

  Dina gripped the harness and dug her heels hard into the sleek sides of the animal writhing beneath her. It bucked and yanked back on the harness. Another hard prod and it finally obeyed her command. Slowly, it closed the distance between herself and Gideon. Each increment a torture, she watched helpless as Gideon flailed.

  Just another second and they’d be neck and neck.

  Wind slapped her face and fluffed her feathers. Air! That meant—

  Gideon reached up, and with the dagger still clasped in his hand, he hacked at the beak buried in his throat. And when that didn’t work, he hacked at his own flesh. Essence steamed from the wound.

  With every ounce of her strength, Dina gripped the Executioner and pulled back. She split the head of the beast that she rode from mouth to the back of its head. As the body fell away, she leaped and brought her weapon up. Wings tucked to her back, she dove for Gideon.

  One slash nearly cleaved the beast’s head from its body, but the blade wedged into the creature’s spine. She had a choice: wrench it free, or reach for Gideon who tumbled from the creature’s slack mouth.

  She chose Gideon.

  Cutting through the air, she hooked his limp body around the waist, and snapped her wings open. They slowed and hovered in a misty gray fog. Gideon’s neck was ravaged. Essence no longer flowed, but trickled from the wound. She couldn’t let this happen. Not to him. Not to her Gideon.

  One dagger remained clutched in his hand. She opened her palm on the tip, and then slapped her hand on top of his ragged flesh. The grace of an angel had the power to heal…but did that apply to an UnHallowed?

  Please, Father, she silently begged. She forced her grace to flow from the wound into his body. As his flesh closed and he strengthened, she weakened. Her head lolled on her shoulders and her grip on his body loosened. He almost slipped from her hands. Still, she gave him more as they drifted from the fog and gained speed. They were falling, not hovering anymore.

  Dina flapped her wings, trying to gain altitude as a light flickered in a field of darkness below her. Then another one. Soon, a whole field of lights flickered below.

  Now they were plummeting, the wind tearing at her clothes and skin, trying to separate her from Gideon. Why couldn’t she fly? Her wings struggled, flapping uselessly. Dina cranked her head around and gasped.

  All her feathers were gone.

  20

  Dina screamed in horror at her featherless wings. They were nothing but white bones sharply contrasting with their bleak surroundings.

  I am fallen.

  Gideon roused. His face turned into the wind as his hands crept from her back to her hips. Then his eyes snapped open and blazed with a surreal golden, reddish color she’d never seen. The light bathed her, pierced through layers of skin and tissue, and roasted her. She felt him inside her, prodding with an intimacy designed to strip her secrets bare. And she had no strength left to fight it. Dina slumped in his arms.

  “Dina! Damn you! Why are you here?” He shook her as she peered at the ground rushing for them. Only then did he notice their surroundings and situation. “Oh fuck me!”

  Laughter bubbled in her chest. “I’m here to rescue you.”

  That caused his fury to ebb a fraction and a tight smile stretched his face. “Remind me to thank you later.”

  “There’s not going to be a later,” she sobbed. “My feathers…are gone.”

  He looked behind her and pain filled his gaze. “Don’t count us out yet.” He shifted her to his back and yelled, “Hold on.”

  Dina wrapped her arms around his chest and flattened herself against him. Gideon angled to the right, his muscles flexing and shifting beneath her. Enjoyment in the face impending disaster, she took it in, even as lights from flickering torches threw shadows over an outcrop of stalagmites below. Some of them as tall as the Manhattan skyline. She choked on a scream as one suddenly appeared on their left side.

  Gideon did the unexpected and veered toward it, not away. “Brace!” he yelled, and stretched his arms. They bounced once, twice, she slapped against his back, clinging though each strike weakened her. In the next instant, he dug his fingers into the rocky formation. The rock crumbled, tossing blinding dust into the air. Their momentum carried them around the formation, slowing their descent. Would it be enough?

  She couldn’t see his actions, but the impact reverberated through him and rattled her enough that she slipped.

  “Hold on, Dina!”

  Hard to do in her state. Yet, she used the last of her strength to hold on to Gideon.

  “Almost there,” he said. Then a crack sounded above them. “Damn!”

  She couldn’t see what happened and didn’t have the time to question because they were airborne again. She peeked over her shoulder because she just had to see. The top third of the stalagmite was sliding toward them.

  “Gide—” A rock smashed against her temple.

  21

  Midway between the next stalagmite, Dina’s grip slackened. Before Gideon could stop her, she slipped from his back. And his reach.

  She’d given him too much of her grace, healing him, and dooming herself. Gideon arrowed his body and dove for Dina. Overhead, one stalagmite crashed into the other. Rocks splintered and pelted him. He didn’t deter.

  Save Dina.

  Nothing mattered more than her. A large rock whizzed past his shoulder. It nicked Dina and sent her into a tail spin.

  Smaller rocks pelted her, broke the skeletal frame of her wings, even ripped one away. All the while, the ground seemed to rise to greet them.

  Time was fleeting, yet spaghettied, in the way that all disasters unfolded, in slow motion. What could be more climatic than watching the one you love shatter in front of your helpless eyes?

  Her grace pulsed through his body, a living part of her threaded to his darkness. Gideon hadn’t felt this strong in centuries. Or this panicked. He pushed his newly healed body to the limit and poured all of himself into saving the one who meant more than anything else in all creation. He caught her ankle and yanked the rest of her into his arms.

  Her frail, limp body assaulted his senses. He did this to her. Placed her in more danger than she could comprehend. And he wasn’t worth it. Not this monumental sacrifice.

  But he would find a way. This, Gideon swore as he turned, and slammed into the hot ground.

  22

  The groan came from deep in Gideon’s chest, crawled up his throat and leaked out his mouth. Words scrambled in his head and evaded coherent thoughts. He tried to collect them, but they squirmed away, like worms caught in a fishing net cast for a whale.

  He lifted an arm and changed his mind when the agony bested him. Laying in this crater seemed like a good idea.

  How had he gotten here? Why was he here? And…who was missing? The questions tag-teamed his brain until clarity hammered his head and he
art.

  Dina!

  Gideon shook off the pain and climbed to his feet with one purpose. He studied the crater his impact had created. Next, the surrounding area. Nothing hid from his vision. It didn’t matter because she wasn’t here. In fact, there wasn’t a trace of her.

  She could be anywhere. Damn it! Why didn’t she stay with him? Unless…Fear choked him. His last memory was holding her to him—and then the ground meeting them. Hard.

  His body hummed with latent energy he hadn’t felt since his fall. Dina’s grace quenched his parched body and filled him with power. He was restored. Renewed.

  Yet, he was still an UnHallowed. No amount of grace could remove that stain.

  He stiffened and patted his pockets even though he knew it wasn’t there. The vial. The entire reason for crossing the Cruor and the trip to Hell was gone.

  A string of curses erupted. It was in his coat and hell only knew where that had landed. Or if the vial had fallen out and ended up anywhere between here and the lowest pit in Hell.

  First things first. He had to find Dina. Then he’d worry about the vial.

  How long was I out?

  No sun. No moon. Forget about wind or rain. On the other side of the Cruor, he had no way of guessing how long he was part of the landscape.

  Shit.

  It didn’t help that he’d stepped through the portal and had immediately been attacked by the denizens of Limbo. The eel like creatures had been waiting for him. He had no idea what alerted them to his presence. If Dina hadn’t saved him, he’d be churning in one of those bastards’ stomachs right now.

  Forever.

  Because that’s how Hell worked.

  Gideon turned his attention to the landscape. He’d landed on the outskirts of town—if you could call the scattered mud huts strewn around fire pits, a town. And the stench. Who knew deep fried shit was a thing. Even your nostrils suffered in Hell. Almost didn’t seem fair.

  Gideon shoved the humor aside and stalked the perimeter. He moved from one shadowy area to another, not trusting the few stragglers moving around for him to take a walk down Main Street. He had to hurry. Each second the urgency to find Dina grew.

  An angel in Hell. Everyone, everything would be gunning for her. Including the Demoni Lords. If one of them got a hold of her, eternity would have a new meaning. But that wasn’t going to happen.

  As he scooted around in the darkness, he came to a cliff. That’s when the true size of the town became apparent. Fire pits and mud huts stretched as far as the eye could see. Dina could be anywhere.

  A slow, Fuuuck, eased out of his slack mouth.

  From what he could tell, the inhabitants were human. Men and women in various states of dress, in various forms of decay, meandered through the dirt streets. Their aimless shuffling oddly entrancing.

  Popping sounded to the south of town, followed by a burst of fireworks overhead, and the inhabitants ceased their zombie shuffle and headed to a two-story house off the main square. Shouts of, “angel bait,” drifted on the air.

  Gideon folded the shadows around him. It was a risk. If the Demoni Lords didn’t already know of his arrival, manipulating the shadows in their realm would ring the alarm. The amount of time he had to complete this mission had exponentially shrunk.

  And the shadows didn’t feel the same. His skin shrank from the touch in protest. It had to be from the grace now coursing his system. Her grace.

  She shouldn’t have done it. Should’ve let him go. The sacrifice she’d made…his chest ached with love. He had to find her.

  Gideon ticked off the nine levels as he traversed the conduits. Knowing which one he was currently in could help him maneuver the level, possibly avoid the worse. Sugar coating the situation would only lead to more pain. He could take it. For his lack of faith, he’d spent eons in Treachery, the lowest level, before gaining a reprieve. Michael was the one who came with the offer and conditions. A list so long more than a few told him to use it to wipe his ass.

  In the end, most took the offer to kill Darklings and live in the shadows.

  Dina…what would she do when I offered her the same?

  Gideon exited the shadows in an alley across from the…tavern. It was a house, but tavern with swinging saloon doors. The soulless inhabitants streamed inside, but some were…occupied.

  He stepped out of the alley, drawn to the frantic gyration of the couple writhing beside a fire pit. The soulless stepped around them, fell next to them and joined the sexual activities.

  Threesomes, foursomes, fivesomes.

  A female shoved a male into the fire. She followed the male in the pit and straddled him. Flames licked their skin as she grabbed his cock and shoved it inside of her.

  And that’s when he knew exactly where he was: Lust.

  Gideon pushed through the saloon doors and entered the tavern. Ten deep, rows of the residents filled the lower level, stairs and railing. Lining the walls, couples humped, some were bent over. A few, male and females, were sandwiched. Every hole filled.

  The sounds of flesh hitting flesh, of moans and tears, gasps and cries, screams of ecstasy and of pain, all mingled to create an erotic cacophony.

  “My Lord!” A Darkling rushed over from a corner of the room. Gideon pulled a blade from a sleeve on the side of his pants. Instead of smoky mist having no substance, the Darkling had the form of a man. Skin the color of ash, coal for eyes, black robes flapping like the wings of a spastic bird, the demon halted and bowed.

  “A Demoni Lord in my establishment. This is a momentous event.” The Darkling continued to bow and grovel.

  The sexcapade around him ceased and bowing commenced. His presence actually stopped an orgy.

  Have to tell Tahariel this…If I survive. And they think I’m a Demoni Lord. Why?

  There were no mirrors in Hell. But by the fear reflected in the eyes of the soulless, Gideon had a good damn guess.

  “Your arrival is portentous. As is our newest arrival to our level of Hell.” He waved to the center of the room and the crowd parted. The Darkling led the way through the masses.

  The Darkling had to mean Dina. Gideon quelled his excitement. Could be a trap, but what choice did he have? Better to pretend to be the King, than the slave. He kept his knife in his hand and palmed another one. The partially rotted mixed with the totally decomposed, peered at him as he weaved through the crowd. Their ragged bodies twitched to continue.

  Lust. The punishment may not seem like a hardship. Until you take away the freedom to choose who you’re fucking, and the will to stop. And the kicker: In your wrecked mind, you’re humping the one person you hate the most. Mother, Father, Siblings, Co-worker, the Ex, the Boss, didn’t matter. The one person who made you want to hurl on sight or run a drone missile up their ass, that’s who you screwed for eternity.

  And the rest of the levels were worse.

  He forced himself to not hurry the Darkling up. Plus, the less he said the better. Whatever led the demon to believe Gideon was a Lord, then the demon needed to keep believing it, as long as possible.

  The crowd gave way to a clearing, and a table. Dina was prone, stretched out on top, and tied down. Naked. Her wings ravaged. Not a single feather on the bony frame. One, partially detached from her back. The other, horribly twisted and missing from below the elbow.

  The rest of her back was flayed by a cat-o-nine tail held in the hand of another Darkling shaped like a troll straight out of a Grimm Fairytale.

  She writhed on the table. Moans of…delight? She was fucking enjoying this? No!

  Sweet, perfect rage swept through him. A vengeful cry ripped from his throat and he went at the troll. Both his blades sunk into its lower abdomen and sliced in an upward arc. The thing was gutted before it raised a hand in defense.

  Gideon swept through the crowd slicing any creature unwise enough to get in his way. He hacked, slashed, cut his way through the lust driven crowd. Some were aware of the slaughter and tried to flee through the windows and doors.

&
nbsp; Gideon commanded the shadows creeping in the corners of the room. He called on them and they answered with a keening wail. Shadows snatched freedom away. They swallowed those scrabbling for safety and spit them out as boneless mounds of flesh.

  In the deep recess of his mind, he wanted to stop, knew he’d done enough. Even in Hell, this amount of carnage, by his hands, wasn’t acceptable. Except…

  He couldn’t stop.

  His blind fury dipped into the kind of ecstasy he’d only found in Dina’s arms. And he wanted more.

  Consumed by bloodlust, Gideon spiraled into a well of violence that demanded unquenchable brutality. Each splatter of blood, wet thud of his fist meeting flesh, and slide of his blade along skin bordered on orgasmic. He reveled in the orgy of blood and parts, couldn’t get enough. The warmth of the muck coating him, stench of the decomposed, the blissful cries instead of agonized pleas, all of it enchanted him. The gratification he received from each brutal act bordered on rapture.

  A long, sultry moan broke through his frenzy. The haze blinding his brain, lifted.

  He was hunched over a Darkling; his hand was around the demon’s throat. The other hand was buried deep in the creature’s chest, his fingers curled around an internal organ.

  He opened both hands and slowly the creature slid from his grasp.

  Gideon straightened from his crouched position. Complete carnage surrounded him. He remembered everything he did and sickened. It didn’t matter the soulless were already dead and doomed to this existence for all eternity. It didn’t matter they would all eventually regenerate to resume their punishment.

  He mattered. His actions mattered. Honoring the grace flowing in his body, mattered. This level had turned his rage into a lust for blood. And even now, knowing what he’d done, he battled for control to not resume. The strain buckled his knees and the haze crept over his mind. His resolved weakened. The rampage was about to continue.