Seduced by the Angel (Divine Fornication I--An Erotic Story of Angels, Vampires and Werewolves (Divine Fornication (An Erotic Story of Angels, Vampires and Werewolves))

by Aames, Aimélie

  Claire began inching her hand across the pristine white bed sheet. The call button was clipped to a chromed rail running the length of the bed.

  "Ok," she said, trying to sound calm, "No need to worry. I think we can find someone to help you out, mister. There are lots of people here who would be happy to help you."

  She made a sudden grab for the call button, ready to plunge her thumb down when, without warning, an iron grip seized her wrist and a second hand clapped itself over her mouth.

  "This is a private conversation, Claire. Just between us."

  The man had somehow crossed the room in the blink of an eye, moving in an eerie and absolute silence.

  Claire closed her eyes, thinking that her perceptions were skewed somehow. That the sight that had come back to her was in some way compromised, betraying her.

  And there, behind her closed eyelids, the man blazed in black fire, steel gray wings rising above his shoulders.

  Claire inhaled through her nostrils, about to scream against the hand upon her mouth. She opened her eyes and the scream died in her throat. The man was there, looking down at her with hard eyes, dressed in the elegant suit.

  She closed her eyes and dark flames blazed. She opened them to see an otherwise normal man.

  His hands relaxed as she went limp with her surprise and he nodded.

  "I believe Malakh has wrought in you a tool. Always the messenger, he hunts my children and those of our brother. He harries us without ceasing, but now, I surmise that he has grown malcontent and searches for a means to strike at the source."

  Claire still did not understand his words, but no longer thought that he was mad. Rather, she thought that it was she who had gone insane. Unbalanced in more ways than one after her fall.

  "Are you...are you an angel?" she asked, her voice trembling.

  The man's lips stretched in a grin that held no humor.

  "An angel? Is that what you think?" he said. "Men have named us that. We were once called the Watchers, or the fallen Seraph. But, I have embraced the flesh of men. Long ago I chose to revel in carnal pleasure and I drink at the hot fount of humanity.

  "I am no angel...not anymore. I am vrykolakas, the first and father of all vampires that walk the earth. And I have come for you, the newly forged weapon of my adversary, and I mean to turn it against him."

  He towered over Claire, growing larger as shadows loomed in nightmarish relief. His lips peeled back from gleaming white teeth and she saw fangs drawing down in shining curves like scimitars as he swept her into his arms.

  ~~~

  Bertie hated working with smokers. It was always the same story, that they needed a quick break is all. Except that Bertie knew the break would be measured in one or two minutes for the time it took them to get outside the hospital. Add in another ten or so minutes to actually smoke. Back upstairs a couple minutes later, and their quick break ran at least fifteen minutes. Which would not be so bad, except that every one of them did it half a dozen times each shift while good old Bertie dutifully remained at the nurses' station. Someone had to stick around, even if it was the dead of night, in case a patient needed her.

  She felt a cool breeze drift across her ankles. She was seated at the desk she shared with the other night shift nurses. A choice situation that had taken her years to get. Not much happened at night, except for the occasional goner that passed on over.

  The dead of night. There was a reason for that phrase, she reflected. Goners snuffed out their little candles most often at night, but that was not so bad. Things stayed calm and quiet for the most part.

  The cool air continued to snake around her ankles, raising goosebumps on her arms. Someone had opened a window nearby.

  And, that meant a patient was stirring about, someone that Bertie would need to check on since there was no one else. Since they were off on a quick break.

  Bertie thought to herself, and not for the last time, that she hated working with smokers.

  She stood up and stepped around from behind the nurses' station and felt a veritable breeze trailing down the linoleum corridor. Her heart quickened as she began walking briskly along.

  Once in a while, goners would decide to take things into their own hands. As if choosing the precise moment of their death somehow cheated the cancer or whatever other malady that gnawed at them. There was a time that the nurses would find a patient's window flung open at night, the bed empty, and far below, six floors down, a body lay crushed and sprawling.

  It was relatively commonplace. Then someone, somewhere, decided that kind of freedom could not be permitted and the upper floors had had all windows replaced by safety bolted frames, with just one small pane that could be opened at a sharp angle. Above all, nothing that would permit a goner to suicide.

  But the air wafting about Bertie's legs was blowing far too strongly to come from one of those narrowly opened windows.

  She passed darkened room after darkened room, seeing only quiet forms lying still under white sheets turned gray in the darkness.

  Then she came to the room of the blind girl. Only she was not blind anymore, that one. A true miracle, people were calling it.

  Bertie poked her head in the door and her mouth came unhinged.

  On the floor lay a dozen bolts, that had been somehow unscrewed, and the large safety window that had replaced the original was swung wide open in its frame.

  Night air flowed freely into the room and there was no one in the hospital bed.

  "Oh lordy lord," breathed Bertie as she rushed to the large, impossible-to-open window. She got as close to the edge as she dared and peered down, expecting to see the small body of the blind woman lying down below.

  Only there was nothing six floors down, nor any sign of the woman who was blind no more.

  ~~~

  Claire heard the sounds of cars far below. They seemed insignificant, like children's toys as they wound their way along the highway that had become a thin, black ribbon.

  The vampire's strong arms wrapped around her like iron bars and his wings beat in steady rhythm as they flew across the night sky.

  Then the sound of his deep voice resonated in her ears as he said, "I would like you to meet my progeny, Claire. They are legion, and by this hour, I should think quite hungry."

  Then, he laughed in great echoing bursts and Claire felt the sting of tears that came to blur her vision of the winking city lights below.

  There was no sign of her guardian, the golden angel named Malakh. Never had she felt so alone, her vision restored to her, only to reveal her plight in every desperate detail.

  Claire looked to the heavens as if to plead for some measure of mercy, but there were only the pinpoints of stars looking back her. They burned coldly and took no notice as the vast abyss of night swallowed her whole.

  The End

  To be continued in the second episode:

  Taken by the Vampire

  (Now available)

  An excerpt from Taken by the Vampire:

  The wolf ran with its nose close to the forest floor. Wide paws flew to the ground with unerring precision, finding firm footing in an eerie silence. If it had been observed, one might have said that the beast flowed rather than moved as it passed under and through thick underbrush.

  The night made of it silver and gray. In daylight, its coat held ruddy colors tinged with an almost fox like red. But the moon overhead betrayed none of its true colors under the cloak of darkness, keeping its pact with the creatures that rendered up homage.

  The animal crested a small rise then lifted its muzzle into the air. Large narines flexed as it scented the air, then its mouth dropped open, its jaw chuffing lightly over the night odors like a wine taster might savor a fine Bordeaux.

  There was cold power drifting down from the sky. A power tinged in raw blood. And, within its grasp fluttered a small, warm heart, beating rapidly, birdlike.

  Yellow eyes scanned the horizon and, then, swiveled hard at the same time that its great ears pricked up
to the sound of muffled wing beats. Following the track of the sound, the wolf saw the dark form of a woman fall from the sky toward a country manor across the valley.

  Never before had the wolf been able to discern the presence of the power that dwelt within those walls. However, this time, there was no mistake as the woman struggled in the arms of an otherwise invisible being.

  The wolf knew the demesne well. It had been charged with surveilling the environs, and nothing escaped its notice. Great hounds ran within as guardians, yet daylight hours held no sound beside them. The night, however, was another matter for it was then that the blood drinkers rose to life

  At the last moment, the woman that fell from the sky swooped up in a long lazy curl, then settled down behind the high stone walls that surrounded the manor.

  The wolf stared, waiting with unnatural patience, and then it stretched out its forelegs like a lazy hound. The scent of musk and rich forest soil rose in the air, thick and redolent. Heavy, wide paws grew long, the dewclaws descending to oppose the lengthening digits. The muzzle of the creature drew in, flattening, while exposing the enormous canine fangs within its jaws.

  With practiced ease, the animal rose up on its hind legs in the same moment that those limbs changed proportion, thighs running long and heavily muscled to knees that gave way to thickly veined calves.

  The werewolf named Clash held his transformation at the midpoint, as was his preference. To pass entirely to human felt weak and pointless to him. And beside that, the signal must be given in the voice of a wolf, powered by the great lungs in his cavernous chest.

  A howl rose from him to echo in mournful notes across the forest. His song held his intentions and his identity. The howl cried to the heavens and woke the smaller, mundane wolves that had been driven down from their arctic home under the ever-encroaching presence of man.

  Deep in the forest, they echoed his cry without understanding, driven only by the primal desire to lift their faces to the moon as they sing. They did not remember the day that Galgallin descended in the form of great shining wheels that turned within one another, nor the multitude of eyes that saw all that lay beneath him. It was a tale poorly retold by Enoch or Ezekiel, the story of the first, the Ophanim that stood apart from the Seraph and their desire of commerce with men. Galgallin alone was the one who saw the beauty of the savage beasts of the earth, desiring nothing other than simple survival in a brutal world.

  Men would come to call them all of them angels, but it was the Ophanim who stepped aside from humanity and its flaws, marrying himself instead with the life's blood of the earth and her creatures, only to lose himself, perhaps forever, within the creatures that became masters of the forest, lords of wolves, the loups-garous...werewolves.

  The simple beasts only echoed what they heard, their instincts lifting them to stare at the moon as their forefathers once stared at the shining Ophanim, proud and strong then brought to their bellies by his might.

  Clash knew the tale, even if the ordinary wolves did not, and fierce pride burned within him as he counted himself a son of such a one. Eschewing what the rest deemed as desirable, Galgallin was uninterested in the Seraph nor their rapture for the flesh of men and women. For the werewolf, man was but a feast, a boon to be fooled and lured away by the wolf wearing a man's skin.

  He looked back to the manor across the valley. A brother to the Ophanim foolishly made of it his home, thinking that it had escaped the notice of the wolves.

  But, Clash found its denizens to be disgusting things. Shambling revenants that did no honor to their maker, unlike the race of shape shifters spawned by the Ophanim. However, the vampires' time would soon be at an end and now that a prize had been brought home, the wolves of Galgallin had but to wrest it from the blood drinkers and make of her one of their own...that, or she would be ravished unto death.

  It was their one simple law, be strong or be destroyed.

  Clash smiled a wolf's tooth laden grin at the beauty and simplicity of it all….

  Find Taken by the Vampire at Amazon or buy the entire collection at a smart buy price:

  Divine Fornication--The Complete Collection (An Erotic Story of Angels, Vampires and Werewolves)

  A collection of four stories wherein several characters found in the series, Her Billionaire, Her Wolf, first made their appearances:

  Episode 1--Seduced by the Angel

  Claire Sawyer's life is about to change in a way that she never could have imagined.

  Blind since a terrible childhood accident, she dies for the second time in her relatively short life only to find herself in the arms of an angeli being.

  Is he her guardian angel, or the monster responsible for the deaths of her parents so many years ago?

  Claire will search for her answers as she is swept up into events involving the divine and their relation to the vampires and werewolves that she encounters in her incredible journey to discover the truth.

  Episode 2--Taken by the Vampire

  Claire awakens in a hospital room to find a man sitting quietly, waiting for her.

  Except that he is no ordinary man, adorned as he is with dark wings and burning in black flames.

  Is it the angel of death, come to take her away at last? Or is he the lord of all vampires, come to steal the prize from his adversary, the Messenger, the being who has healed Claire's blindness?

  Flying high above the city lights in his cold arms, Claire shall find herself brought to a lonely fortress where blood drinkers await her and werewolves roam the darkness, all of them waiting for the ravishment to come..

  Episode 3--Claimed by the Wolf

  From certain death at the hands of vampires, Claire Sawyer finds herself surrounded by hundreds of wolves.

  Are they her saviors, or the culmination of the doom that follows her at every turn?

  Cursed or no, Claire must fight for her survival, even if that means becoming one of them, wolves in heat with just one thing in mind.

  Episode 4--Redeemed by the Conqueror

  In the stunning conclusion to the four part series, Divine Fornication, Claire Sawyer finds herself caught between vampires, werewolves and angels. Three races of beings willing to battle for the one thing they value most--Claire's eternal soul.

  Will Claire's guardian angel return at last, in her final moments? Or, will she be lost forever to eternal damnation?

  An excerpt from Divine Fornication--The Complete Collection (An Erotic Story of Angels, Vampires and Werewolves):

  ....Claire seized the opportunity and slowly crawled away. If she could manage to put some distance between her and the fighting wolves, she might stand a chance.

  As she eased her way forward, practically crawling upon her belly through the high grasses, Claire saw the edge of the clearing not far away. She gathered her legs under her, readying herself to jump up and run for the cover of the trees when someone stepped directly into her path.

  "Going somewhere, are we?" said a young man's voice and Claire looked up to see him grinning down at her.

  He was a wolf, but younger than Clash and Braze, she surmised. He had not yet filled out his frame, appearing gangly and awkward due to his height and long muscles that had not yet taken on the heavy mass of the adult wolf shifters.

  Claire froze, not daring to move a muscle. The young wolf was in near full human form as he lifted two fingers to his mouth. A shrill whistle sounded, to be quickly followed by two wolves loping to his sides.

  They lifted up, their limbs stretching and smoothing into human form. One was dark skinned and scowling, the other blond and fair with a smile that stemmed from true humor and not the irony of the situation before them.

  The darker of the two newcomers spoke first, and said, "Rend, you have to take her back. When the leaders finish...and you know they will soon...they'll come looking for her."

  The other, the one for whom it seemed all a joke, chuckled and said, "Shard's right. Besides, she's not that special. In the city, we can get all kinds of human c
hicks. It's really no big deal."

  The first wolf, the one the other two had named Rend, replied, "Yeah, but out here in the wild, human bitches don't happen every day. I might never get another chance."

  Claire could feel her blood boiling as the young wolves spoke. as the young wolves spoke. She did not want to be simply an object to their adolescent desires, but she could not deny that the three young men standing above her were making her thighs part of their own volition.

  "Now wait," she said, "You...you're from the city?"

  The comic blond wolf nodded and said, "Yeah. My name's Flair. I came with Braze and the rest of our pack to help get you from the vampires."

  "Ok," she said, "Just give me a second to think."

  Claire desperately searched for a means of bargaining her way back to the city with the help of the young, blond wolf. Afterward, she was sure it would be far easier to escape from him than from the huge man called Braze.

  "No," said Rend, "I've heard about you humans and how much you love to talk. I'm not interested.

  "Shard, grab her arms."

  The dark wolf never stopped scowling but he trapped Claire's wrists in his hands. He might not have been a fully grown wolf, but his strength was far greater than her own. She pulled desperately away from him, but his hold upon her did not ease.

  "Flair, take a leg, already."

  The blond simply shrugged as he latched on to one of Claire's ankles.

  Rend eased himself then between Claire's thighs and she could feel him trembling as he knelt down to the ground, his own legs brushing against her.