Forbidden

by Jana Oliver

  Ori began to pace in front of the mausoleum, his moves disjointed, a mirror to his turbulent emotions. “I killed that demon for you, Riley. I have saved your life more times than you know. What else can I do to earn your trust?”

  The coal in her stomach was a blast furnace now. She felt the tears slip down her face, and she swiped them away with the back of her hand. “Tell me the truth. How many mortals have you been with? Am I the first? The tenth, the thousandth?”

  “This is for your own protection,” he retorted. “You have no notion of how much danger you are in, from both Heaven and Hell.”

  “So God’s going to smite me, too?” she replied. “If that happens, how am I supposed to stop the end of the world? You guys really need to get your stories straight.”

  “If you deny me, others will come for you, others more evil than you can imagine. Please, Riley, I am your only hope,” he insisted.

  “They can’t get my soul unless I give it to them,” she said, crossing her arms over chest.

  “Oh, Riley,” he murmured, “there are countless ways to lose your soul, most of them genuinely noble.”

  “You’re lying. Why did I ever believe you?”

  His wings reappeared, snapped tight against his back, vibrating with anger. “Clear your head, girl!” he shouted, his fist clenched now. “I am your last chance! Do not deny me!”

  “Oh, dear, now you’ve upset him,” a smooth voice said. “That is never a good thing.”

  Riley jerked in surprise to find a figure leaning against one of the gravestones clad in a black shirt and slacks, his collar-length ebony hair shot with silver. His eyes were bottomless midnight blue.

  Ori started, then gave a deep bow. “My Lord, I did not expect you.”

  My Lord?

  The newcomer laughed at the angel. “Of course you didn’t. No one ever does.” Those eyes fell on Riley again. They had a depth to them beyond anything she’d experienced.

  “Who are you?” she whispered.

  “I’m his boss,” he said, angling his head toward Ori.

  He sure didn’t look like her idea of God.

  The figure straightened. “You work it out, Blackthorne’s daughter. You’re a very smart girl.”

  Blackthorne’s daughter. Demons called her by that name. Maybe Heaven did, too. They were on holy ground, so no way this could be Hellspawn. Ori had called him “my Lord,” which meant he was an angel, at least.

  “You have that right,” the figure replied.

  Great. Mr. New Guy could read her mind just like Ori.

  “I’ll give you a huge clue,” the newcomer said. Something flared in the air, and then a crimson doorway appeared next to him. The air seethed inside the portal, buoyed by unseen currents. Something waddled to the threshold, bouncing and giggling. It was round, black and white like a soccer ball, and about three feet tall. It had two feet tipped with claws, horns that spouted out of the top of its head, and pincers at the end of its arms. The moment it stepped across the portal and its clawed foot touched the hallowed ground, it shrieked and disappeared in a puff of black, acrid smoke. The unmistakable scent of brimstone stung her nose.

  The newcomer rolled his eyes, snapped a finger, and the portal vanished. “Demons are so stupid.”

  “Omigod, you’re…” she began, “… HIM?”

  “Oh, indeed. I’m Lucifer,” he said. “You’d be surprised how many mortals insist on using the S word. Or the D one for that matter.” He shook his head in disgust. “I am neither. I am the Light Bearer, the Prince of Hell, the Chief among the Fallen, and the Adversary. Accept no substitutes.”

  Oh, shit.

  “That’s a very common reaction,” he replied.

  “You can’t be here!” Riley protested. “This is hallowed ground. This has to be a trick.”

  “Hallowed ground is death to my Hellspawn but not to one who was created by the Light. Fallen can tread here as easily as you, child.”

  Another one of those things someone forgot to tell her.

  Lucifer wandered over to the other angel, eying his servant intently. “So how goes it, Ori?”

  “My Lord, I am fulfilling my tasks, as you commanded,” Ori murmured. “Allow me more time, I beg of you.”

  “Tasks? And what were those?” his superior quizzed. “Refresh my mind.”

  Ori swallowed uneasily. His wings were no longer pure white but showed a thin line of ash gray at the tips. “I was to utterly destroy the rogue demon, which I have done.”

  “And?”

  “I was to secure this girl’s soul by any means necessary.”

  “About that second task,” Lucifer said, “I note you have not fulfilled it. Losing your touch?” When he didn’t reply, the Prince leaned closer. “Or is there some other reason?”

  “You lied to me,” she shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You said you loved me.”

  The fire in Riley’s stomach grew hotter, spreading into her chest now, threatening to consume her heart.

  “I said I cared for you and that was not a lie,” Ori said, stepping closer to her.

  “Right. Try that one again,” she snarled. “You’re just sucking up to him.”

  “Besides being one of the most arrogant of my servants,” Lucifer began, “Ori is incredibly talented at seducing mortals. Male, female, doesn’t matter. They’re all the same to him.”

  “My Lord, please,” Ori began, like he was embarrassed to have his sins paraded in front of her.

  “Yes, this one is different for you,” Lucifer chided. “But she is still at risk, unless you finish what you started.”

  Riley shook her head. “No go on the soul,” she said. “No go on any of this.”

  “He was not lying,” Lucifer replied. “Your soul is in play now. You can blame Heaven for that. We offer security. If you do not pledge your soul to Ori, others will seek it, and they will use every means to secure it.”

  “You can just tell them to back off, right?”

  “I can, but that is no guarantee. Demons and Fallen are allowed to make their own mistakes. Like my servant Ori, here.” He clapped a hand on the angel’s shoulder, causing her seducer to grimace. “But we’ll get back to that in a moment.”

  “Why is this about me?” Riley demanded.

  She saw a flash of anger in the Prince’s eyes. “Do not assume you are the very center of the universe, Blackthorne’s daughter. There is more at stake than just your pitiful life.”

  “You know, I don’t care anymore. I do one good deed and it all goes to—”

  “Hell?” Lucifer quipped. “That’s often the case.”

  “It’d be family tradition,” Ori said in a bitter voice.

  The Prince gave him a sharp look, followed by a frown. “Tread carefully, my servant.”

  “What do you mean, family tradition?” Riley demanded.

  “Why do you think your father lived as long as he did?” Ori questioned. “Luck?” The smirk on his face made her queasy.

  “My dad was an excellent trapper,” she retorted. “One of the best.”

  “He was good, but he wasn’t invincible. When that Archdemon was about to rip out his heart, Paul Blackthorne begged to stay alive. How could I ignore such a heartfelt plea?”

  “No, you’re wrong. My dad killed that thing. That’s how he became a master.”

  “He did, after we made the deal,” Ori said. “From that point on, no Hellspawn could harm him. In exchange, he would remain alive until you had become a master trapper.”

  These were more lies. That’s what these monsters did: They twisted the truth until you couldn’t tell day from night.

  Lucifer bent over and picked up a withered leaf, examining it like he’d never seen one before. “Your father feared you being an orphan,” he explained. “A very noble gesture, which cost him his soul.” He blew on the leaf and it turned green, alive from the top to the stem. The moment it left his hand it returned to the dead, shattered fragments floating to the ground.


  Ori started to say something, but his master waved him silent.

  The lies had a kernel of truth to them. Her dad had changed after he’d captured the Archfiend. Quieter, more thoughtful. He hadn’t shown any fear of demons from that point on.

  “You understand now.”

  She did. Her father, the man she loved so much, had sold himself to Hell for his only child.

  “I will do the same deal for you,” Ori coaxed. “No Hellspawn will harm you. You’ll do well in this life, and at the end there’s just a small payment.”

  Like I believe that. “And what about you? Do you get a reward or something?” she chided.

  Ori wouldn’t meet her eyes, so it was Lucifer that answered. “If he does not take your soul, his power is diminished. Power and status are everything in Hell, much like Heaven. He will suffer for his failure.”

  If she agreed, she could trap and not get hurt anymore. She’d be as good as her father, and none of the other trappers could best her. She probably wouldn’t even miss her soul. There was one glaring problem: “So if this is such a great deal, why is my dad dead?”

  The Prince of Hell shrugged. “Shit happens.”

  Riley adjusted the messenger bag on her shoulder, dredging up the last bit of courage she possessed. It was pathetically small compared to the evil arrayed in front of her. “Well, this Blackthorne isn’t playing ball. You had me once,” she said to Ori, “you’re not having me again. I’m out of here.”

  With her body shaking so hard it was difficult to walk, she turned her back on the two Fallen Angels. This is insane. How many steps would she take before they killed her? Five? Ten? Would they let her think she’d reached safety and then rip her apart? Throw her to a bunch of demons so they could eat her alive?

  “Riley, stop!” Ori called out. “Your soul has to be mine. If you align with one of the others, there will be—”

  “Enough!” Lucifer commanded.

  A shrill cry of protest filled the air, and then silence. When Riley stole a look over her shoulder, Ori was gone. Lucifer leaned against the base of a statue, grinning that maniacal grin of his. Her eyes tracked up the plinth, then to the statue. At the top was a stone angel clad in blue jeans, his bare chest exposed to the air. Wings stretched behind him, and both fists were raised toward the sky in righteous anger.

  Ori. In sculpted marble.

  Lucifer cleared his throat, bringing her eyes back to him. “My order to my servant was for one task only—destroy the rogue demon.”

  “But he said there were two tasks.”

  “Indeed. He made the mistake of trusting another, one who lied to him. One who told him what he wanted to hear.”

  It hit her. “Ori wasn’t supposed to sleep with me, try to take my soul?” she said.

  “No.” A pensive frown settled on Lucifer’s face. “Ori had no idea he was being used, and now he is paying the price. As are you.”

  “Did you turn Simon against me?”

  “That was the other’s doing, not mine. However, it did push you into Ori’s arms, which served my purposes.”

  One by one the pieces fell into the convoluted puzzle. She’d been herded like a sheep and never had a clue. “You test angels, too?”

  “It is my job,” Lucifer said solemnly. His expression changed to one of determination. “If you agree to act on our behalf, I will give you certain assurances.”

  “You’re not getting my soul. That’s just not on the table, no matter what you do to me.”

  A shrug. “Right now, you’re more valuable as a free agent, though it does put you at greater risk.” Lucifer peered up at the stone statue. “If you wish to keep those you value safe, you will owe me a favor. Should I set Ori free, he will not remember you with love and tenderness, not after this disgrace. He has pride, one of the Seven Deadly Sins, and you have damaged his reputation in Hell.” Lucifer pulled a face. “Now just who would he destroy first? Maybe your little friend Peter, or how about that annoying trapper who takes my name in vain so often. You know, the one who loves country music so much?”

  Beck.

  “I’ll even sweeten the deal,” the Prince of Hell added. “You do what I want, and I’ll grant you one wish. Oh, and I can’t bring the dead back to life, so don’t bother with that one.”

  It all came back to her dad and his sacrifice. “Who summoned my father from his grave? Ozymandias?”

  A snort came her way. “A dabbler in the dark arts? Hardly.”

  “Then who?”

  “Me, of course,” the Fallen said, beaming. “Who else would be the dragon?”

  It’d been right in front of her all the time. Even the hunters had the dragon on their patches symbolizing the battle between good and evil.

  “Why did you summon my dad?”

  “To keep him out of the hands of those who would use his knowledge against us.”

  “Where is he—”

  The Prince waved her off. “Do we have an agreement?” he demanded.

  The fight went out of her. “What do you want me to do?”

  “A little task when the time comes,” he replied. All pretense of good humor vanished. “Fail me,” Lucifer said, jabbing a finger upward at the marble Ori, “and I’ll set the avenging angel free. Trust me when I say that his wrath has been known to level cities.”

  My friends’ lives. Atlanta. That’s what hung in the balance. It was no longer just about her or her father. “No on the soul; yes on the deal.”

  Lucifer’s blue eyes sparkled. “Excellent. Don’t worry, it balances out the one you made with Heaven, and just might keep you alive.”

  A second later the Prince of Hell vanished in a flash of brilliant light, followed by an overly dramatic clap of thunder.

  Riley slumped against the nearest gravestone. Her eyes took the tortuous journey from the bare toes to the handsome face of the enraged angel who had betrayed her. God help her, but she still half believed what Ori had said, that he really was trying to protect her. How much of what he and Lucifer had told her were lies? How much was the truth? And why hadn’t Heaven warned her she was in danger?

  Riley had gone too far now to walk this back, not after she’d slept with a Fallen and made a deal with the Prince of Hell himself. The longer she looked at it, Lucifer had set up his tests to ensure she’d fail. How else would he get her on Hell’s payroll?

  Harper was right, she was twisted.

  “Just like my father.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Riley sat on the wooden rocker on Beck’s front porch, working up her courage. It was ironic she’d come to him for help, but she had no place else to go. He wasn’t home, but if the number of calls on her cell phone was any indication he’d frantically been trying to find her, at least until about four in the morning. The messages had a common theme: Stay away from Ori.

  “Too late.” She hadn’t heard her phone ring last night, but it was a safe bet the angel made sure no one could find her until he’d finished with her.

  Beck answered on the first ring and he sounded sleepy. “Riley? I’ve been callin’ ya all night. Where were ya?”

  “At the cemetery. I stayed in the mausoleum.”

  “Ya weren’t there. I looked. I walked all over the damned place.”

  More angel mojo courtesy of Ori. “It doesn’t matter now,” she said. “I’m at your house, on the porch.” She blinked away tears as the final admission came forth. “I need your help, Beck. Something bad’s happened.”

  When he asked what was wrong, she refused to tell him. No way she’d tell him over the phone. He gave her the alarm code and told her where to find the spare key. “I’ll get there as soon as I can,” he said and then hung up.

  Once she was inside and had turned off the alarm, Riley stood rooted in the entryway. If things played out like she suspected, this might be the last time she’d ever be allowed in this house.

  The morning sun poured in the front window, sending beams of light onto the wooden floor. The house smelled like frie
d chicken. Probably takeout. Riley made it to the couch, tucked herself into a ball, and pulled the crocheted afghan over her, even though she was too warm. The afghan’s faint pine scent reminded her of its owner’s aftershave. She tucked it closer to her chin. Of all the people she could have run to when things went bad, she had come to Denver Beck, even though she knew he’d be the one most hurt by the news. From this moment on, nothing would ever be the same. She had made the ultimate mistake; now she needed to find a way to survive it.

  All along Beck had watched out for her. “He warned me. Why didn’t I listen?”

  Because Ori said all the right words.

  Riley ground her teeth in frustration. It would be easy to blame it all on angel mojo, but that wasn’t right. She’d been so desperate for someone to love her, not to challenge her every decision, she’d walked right into the Fallen’s feather-lined trap. She could blame the angel for what happened—and Ori was good for a lot of it—but that would be lying to herself. She’d done the same rebound thing after Beck had returned from the Army and ignored her. That had earned her Allan’s abuse.

  Why do I do this to myself? Am I stupid or what? Why was it so important someone love and care for her? It wasn’t like she’d come from a broken home. She’d been loved, knew what it felt like. And that made her want it even more.

  The minutes crept by like a furtive mouse skulking along the baseboards. Soon Beck would pull into the driveway and she’d tell him what had happened. Tell him all of it. Well, not everything. He didn’t need to know she’d made a bargain with Lucifer to keep him alive, or that her father’s soul belonged to Hell.

  Riley adjusted the afghan, sending another wave of its owner’s woodsy aftershave into the air. There was a further reason she’d gone for Ori, and she couldn’t deny it any longer.

  I was so jealous. Beck’s new girlfriend had turned Riley totally green from the moment the reporter had knocked on her door. That envy had colored almost every decision from that second on. Simon’s betrayal had opened the wound, and Justine had poured acid into it.

  Now I’m in a world of hurt and I have no one else to blame.