Razael

by Alisa Woods

  “A hundred years is time enough to partake of what I wish in this realm.” In Truth, he avoided contamination from the realm of Sin in which he lived as much as possible.

  “I see.” Then she scrutinized him further, and he was afraid she might actually see.

  “If you ally with me,” he pressed, hoping to move on, “and we can bring in two others, we can contain him.”

  “Contain him how?” The smirk was replaced with a frown.

  “Send him to Lucifer’s Dominion.”

  She leaned back then scowled at him. “And risk the others turning on us?”

  “There is that risk.” At her blank surprise, he hastily added, “We will all be condemned if he is not contained. You know this, Zuriel. We need only convert two more to the cause. The others should stand down once he’s removed.”

  She scowled. “Yes… if they were sane.” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Young one, you do not know what it is to be eternally in shadow. The Sin eats at them, destroying their faculties while they thrust about, searching for power and more Sin.”

  “You are sane,” he pointed out, hoping that was actually true.

  She smirked. “Because I have spent millennia exploring the pleasures of Sin in moderation. Temperance was always my Virtue… and Chastity decidedly not.” She ran a look along the length of his body. “Perhaps we can be allies. It’s been a while since I trusted an angel enough to fuck him.”

  Fuck… what? He frowned. “Are your angelings insufficient to slake your Lust?”

  She arched an eyebrow but came closer still. Close enough to touch. “My Regiment has been nearly wiped out. A little alliance-making pleasure will take the edge off that loss.”

  His frown was quickly turning into a scowl. Was this the depravity in which dark angels indulged? In Truth, he had spent little time in the company of other angels—in shadow or Light—since his Fall, relying on his angelings for the limited companionship they could provide. And in the Light, there was never a question whether angels would fuck one another. But in the shadow realm… all things were possible.

  Zuriel obviously thought so.

  But even in shadow, angels were oriented toward humanity. What he explained to Laylah about the impossible allure of human souls for an angel was Truth. So what was Zuriel playing at?

  “Do you truly find my sadly broken soul so alluring?” he asked. As he peered deeper, there was a core of Virtue at the far reaches of Zuriel’s soul. He suspected she had been radiant once, but millennia after millennia of Sin had slowly eaten it away.

  “Actually… yes. You’re practically a Light angel if you ignore that gaping chasm of heartache and loss.” She leaned closer. The hem of her misty dress brushed against his leg. “And I’m certain I will be your first angel lover. There are pleasures of which you’ve only dreamed right in front of you, Razael.”

  He fought the urge to lean away. “I do not dream of pleasure.” And until very recently, that was Truth. But now, his thoughts were filled with the allure of Eden. And while he might hide that plain fact from Laylah, there was no such possibility with Zuriel.

  “You dream of fucking humans.” She lifted an eyebrow. “And Elyon’s prize, in particular.”

  He was sure his burning interest in her was easy to see, just as he could see Laylah’s still unrequited longing for Asa. “This is not Envy, Zuriel. It is purely Lust.” Even that felt a lie.

  “Is it now?” Her gaze grew even sharper. “Perhaps I should have a taste of these humans as well.”

  His Wrath surged again, and only his great need to have Zuriel as an ally kept it contained. “I would not recommend that.”

  “Ah…” Zuriel’s smirk grew wide. “Jealousy burns hot in you, my friend. Well…” She stepped back and lifted her chin for a small challenge. “I shall have to satisfy my whims with a few of your strapping angelings instead.”

  He supposed for any other angel that might be a problem—Elyon’s Regiment was as much a harem as a fighting core. Zuriel’s was likely the same, only now, most of hers had been slain. In Truth, Razael’s angelings would probably welcome her attentions—they had long complained that he did not join in the orgies, depriving them of that divine orgasm that visited any union between angel and angeling.

  Or human. Lust surged hot in him, envisioning that union with Eden and the rapture it would bring her. And him. Not that he deserved any such pleasure.

  “Oh my,” pouted Zuriel. She trailed a finger across his chest and dropped her gaze to below his waist. “If only that were for me.”

  Somehow, he had manifested a towering erection. Still hot with desire, he willed that away. He would have to be careful not to display such obviousness when he next saw Eden. She was traumatized enough, and he had only just gained a small measure of her trust.

  Zuriel smirked. “Let me refresh myself with your angelings, then we’ll make our alliance formal… and discuss your nefarious plans to take down Elyon. You are likely doomed, Razael, but the ride will be fun.” Then she twisted and disappeared from his chambers.

  His plans would have to wait until Zuriel had her fill—and he hoped that wouldn’t take long. In the meantime… could he risk a visit to check on Eden? Was he in control of himself enough for that? When he pictured seeing her again, she rose up to greet him, all flushed cheeks and radiant soul. In reality, he would keep his distance… but in the conjuring in his mind’s eye, he would magic away her clothes and begin a slow worship of her body, covering every inch, one small, prayerful kiss at a time. It would quiver and quake under his touch, and his manifestation as man would shake with pleasure. His Lust was a firebrand across his loins, and when he looked down, his desire stood tall under his toga again. It had been so long since he’d indulged, but he couldn’t visit her in this state.

  He took his cock in his hand—in his mind, it was Eden’s body, wrapped around him, riding him hard…

  It was a long time before he was spent enough to stop.

  Chapter Four

  Fresh strawberries? It was like heaven on her tongue.

  Somehow, Eden had never questioned the poor food they’d gotten in Elyon’s Hell-nursery. She’d just assumed that whatever their magical powers, the angels weren’t able to supply anything but day-old sandwiches to the underworld. But of course, that was wrong. And now that she’d come out of her haze enough to actually notice life in Razael’s nursery, she could see all the ways it was different. The bright colors on the walls. The delectable pastries and fruits and breads that just kept coming. And that blessing…

  Her body still hummed with Razael’s power.

  Yet, she was still a prisoner. She knew that, no matter how often Ren tried to convince her otherwise. Molly had escaped—but she’d always been the strongest among them. Ren was caught in a vortex of love (or maybe lust, she wasn’t sure), and Eden had struggled just to survive, but Molly… she’d dreamed of a life outside the hellscape, and she’d found it.

  The hope of that was a dangerous spark in Eden’s heart.

  She knew it was dangerous because every time she felt it flutter up and lift her, she flinched away, running back to her misty world where things were beautiful and perfect and… safe. She couldn’t risk hope when she was still barely holding on, and the dark maw of the abyss waited to swallow her whole.

  “Is it good?” The female angeling—Laylah—loomed over her. That eager, expectant expression had been on her face ever since Razael’s visit the day before.

  Or was it two? Time was still fuzzy.

  “It’s wonderful.” Eden lifted the bowl to Laylah. “Do you want one?”

  Laylah looked startled for a moment then gave a small laugh. “No thanks.” She smiled and bent down on one knee next to Eden’s seat at the small table where they ate. Ren had finished a while ago and was rocking Eva. Ralphie’s perfect little face was pouted in his sleep in the crib. As soon as Eden was finished with the food, she would go tend to the babies. She was finally feeling strong enough, now that she wa
s eating again. She really shouldn’t have let that go on for so long—it wasn’t good for the baby. But she hadn’t actually realized—

  “Eden?” It was Laylah talking.

  Eden had forgotten she was there. She frowned—she was still doing that occasionally, drifting in her thoughts, ignoring the obvious angeling in the room. It was almost reflexive.

  She intentionally focused on Laylah’s face. “Yes?” Whatever else all this may be, Eden knew Laylah meant well. At least as far as taking care of them.

  “You know angelings—and angels—don’t eat much, right?” She was scanning Eden’s face.

  “Yes, I suppose I do.” She took another strawberry and bit into it, savoring it. “You’re kind of missing out, though.”

  Laylah smiled. “Probably. But Razael knew you needed it, especially for the baby. That’s why he came. He was very concerned about you.”

  Eden frowned and set down the leafy remains of the strawberry. Laylah kept bringing up the angel, and always in the most glowing terms. As if she were trying to convince Eden he was simply a nice guy who maybe happened to be Laylah’s boss. But Eden knew what he was. The blessing had helped her—it had drawn her back into the world, bolstering her enough to realize she needed to eat—but that didn’t mean Razael was “a nice guy.” He was an angel. She shuddered even as that thought resonated with the energy still bouncing inside her. He was a dark angel—Ren had told her there were light angelings, and that Molly had even turned Asa into one, but that made no difference. Razael was a vastly powerful creature—a dangerous creature—and she was at his mercy, held in his dark-crystal palace, even if the walls were covered with bright cartoon animals. He wasn’t demanding anything of her at the moment—and he’d even helped her a bit—but for all she knew, it was simply because he wanted her child, just like Elyon. It didn’t matter what he—or Laylah—said. It didn’t matter what blessings or strawberries or treats they brought. The inescapable fact was that she was a prisoner, and at any moment, he could do whatever he wished to her.

  Trusting him was nowhere on the table, not with her child’s life at stake.

  She had drifted again. Laylah had spoken, but she hadn’t heard, and now Laylah was frowning at her with increasing concern.

  “I’m sorry,” Eden said. “What did you say?”

  Laylah’s frown deepened. “That Razael would provide anything you need. You just have to ask.”

  Eden couldn’t help the chastising look—as if Laylah were a child she could scold. “You know that’s not true.”

  Laylah seemed surprised. “It is,” she insisted, standing up from where she knelt. “And I am tasked with providing it. All you need do is say it.”

  Eden peered up at her. It seemed silly to even try, but the eager expression on her face seemed real… “Release me.”

  Laylah’s surprise morphed into shock. “But you can’t… Eden, you’re here for your protection!”

  Eden just shook her head and plucked another strawberry from the bowl. One more and she might burst, but they were so delicious, and it had been so long since she’d had any innocent pleasures just for her…

  “I promise you! Razael would not be holding you if it weren’t for your own safety!” Laylah seemed increasingly distressed about this.

  Eden nodded in hopes that she might just… stop. She didn’t have the energy to fight.

  “I’m sure she knows that,” Ren said, suddenly appearing at Eden’s back. Her hand rested on Eden’s shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze.

  Ren knew—even if she was misguided in loving her dark angeling, Micah, she was Eden’s sister in imprisonment, and she knew what that meant. Even if Ren might, in another moment, try to convince Eden of the very same thing. Right here, right now, Ren had her back. Eden loved her for it, even if she couldn’t quite bring herself to say it. The frozen mask may have dropped from her face, but it still solidly held her heart.

  “I think Ralphie’s waking up,” Ren said quietly, with another squeeze on Eden’s shoulder. Ren was exactly right—she needed some baby-time to restore her. And the strawberries and all the other treats her angel captor had lavished upon her had strengthened her.

  She rose up and drifted over to Ralphie’s crib. She smiled on the way, reminded of her misty world where she could glide like the clouds themselves, unburdened from the reality of her world and the horrible things that her physical body—and her mind—had endured with Elyon. Would Razael required the same of her, eventually? Would he tire of whatever this was he was doing and decide just to take what he wanted? Eden clutched the edge of the crib and forced herself to breathe.

  Do not go there. She knew better than to think ahead. To entertain the what-ifs of her world—they were too horrible, and each time she gave in to worrying about the next time, it was like being trapped eternally in it. That’s why she crafted the misty world—it was untouchable. She was untouchable. Her worries about Razael drifted away like clouds clearing from a brilliant blue sky. She smiled down at Ralphie—he was waking up, although only with a small twitch of his nose and a curl of tiny fingers. She would watch him and wait until he was ready to be picked up.

  “Perhaps she does not understand the danger.”

  “I’m sure she does.”

  Laylah and Ren were chattering on. Their words washed over her, and Eden tried to let them just drift past her ears without entering her mind.

  “Perhaps Razael could come speak to her about it, describing the dangers—”

  “That’s really not a good idea right now.”

  A shuffle of feet across the carpet made Eden’s heart rate pick up, but then she realized the sound was moving away toward the door.

  “Just keep bringing the food. Hey, how about omelets? Do you guys do any cooking?”

  “What is an omelet?”

  “Never mind. Pastries are good. Maybe some cheese? Something with protein.”

  “Protein?”

  “It’s a component of food. Geez, don’t you guys ever eat anything?”

  “Certainly! But the fruits of the land are usually sufficient—”

  “Yeah, well not for growing babies.”

  “I see.”

  “Just… come back later, Laylah. Give her some time.”

  The shush of the door opening and closing made Eden’s heart lurch again. She didn’t want to look, but her body froze again as if teetering on a precipice. As she waited to hear if someone else had entered the nursery, little Ralphie finally overcame his battle with sleep and opened his big blue eyes. The babies were truly as beautiful as their fathers—as all of these angel-types were—but they were innocent in that beauty. His eyes lit up, and he reached for her.

  She scooped him out of his crib and propped him on her hip. He felt so good there—like he belonged. “Hello, cutie pie,” she whispered. “Did you have a good sleep?”

  He smiled and reached for her lips with tiny, pudgy fingers. She made kissy motions and puckered her lips and generally played with his curious touch. He smiled more, and her heart swelled, full in a way it never was outside of her fantasy world unless she was holding one of the babies. An ache inside her fought for her attention. Would she be able to hold her own little one this way? Would they be able to break free of the nightmare that encased her and her unborn child like a cocoon, suffocating and inescapable? She couldn’t think forward like that—she couldn’t dare to hope like that—any more than she could afford to worry about what might come.

  All she could do was survive. And wait. And be ready when the chance came for freedom.

  “You okay?” Ren was back by her side.

  Eden struggled to tear her attention from Ralphie’s sweet, smiling face. But when she saw the concern in Ren’s eyes, she wasn’t sure what to say. Was she okay? Of course not. Did that matter? Not in the least.

  “The strawberries are good.” She lifted her chin toward the small table with all the food. “You should try them.”

  Ren just frowned. “The angelkin
d really are trying to help us.”

  Eden pulled in a breath. Arguing with Ren would take more energy than she had. She turned back to Ralphie and smiled for him, even though her words were for Ren. “They are keeping us alive.” It was indisputable, and at the moment, it was all she needed. Stay alive. Protect her baby. Take care of the little ones, if she was able. She really did need to stay in this world enough to eat regularly and keep her strength.

  Ren sighed but didn’t respond.

  Eden put Ralphie down to play with Eva on the carpet. Even holding him for a brief while was taxing her. Razael’s blessing for the baby had brought her back to this world, but she still wasn’t strong enough for it, not physically, at least. She needed more rest. Their cots were tucked to either side of the nursery—they spent all their waking hours here.

  Until the angels decided differently.

  Just as with Elyon.

  “If Laylah comes back,” she said to Ren while her gaze drifted to the cot calling to her, “tell her I’d like to see Ariel.”

  “The angeling?” Ren asked, eyebrows hiked up.

  Did she know another Ariel in this angel realm? Eden smiled, but it was difficult. Like her face was out of practice, and the smile caused her pain. “Yes.” The only glimpse of freedom she’d had was when Ariel had whisked them all away from Elyon’s prison to Molly’s apartment. Eden hadn’t seen the angeling girl since Asa had snatched her away and brought them all here.

  “I can ask,” Ren said, but she sounded dubious. “I think she’s fighting the war or something.”

  The war. Another thing that had no meaning, no relevance. Not to her or her baby. She’d heard snips of conversation about it, but they’d swirled around her and never caught hold.

  Eden nodded and dragged her body across the nursery to her cot. Her feet were heavy now, weighed down by gravity and the inescapable box she was in. She didn’t glide so much as stumble on the way to the cot. When she reached it, she was careful to protect her belly as she climbed in.

  More rest.

  More food.