Death's Widow

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Death's Widow Page 17

by Lori Aisling


  I couldn’t tell if he was testing me, or if he truly meant it. He was Satan, after all, so death and loss meant nothing to him. However, if he was prodding me to see if I had the stomach to rip the demon’s soul from her body, I didn’t want to disappoint him. I felt a callous smile spread my lips wide and never leaving his gaze, I finished the demon still held securely to the wall, the shrill screams of her soul sending tickles of pleasure through my veins. I gave her no chance to accept her fate painlessly, as I did all mortals. Nor did I care that there were no guides to escort her to her next assignment. She would float in her own personal purgatory until the next cycle.

  The smile on the devastatingly handsome man standing across from me grew wider as he assessed me. He stood with his legs shoulder-width apart, arms crossed, hips slightly tipped forward. The typical alpha-male stance. He ruled this realm, and he owned that fact with no question. But he also knew when to give credit where credit was due. “I am afraid there are many out there that have underestimated you, my dear. I, however, am not one of them. I never doubted Callon would create his equal- truly; this pleases me greatly.”

  “Does it now? Why so? Would it not be easier for you if I were weak and untrained?”

  Dismissing my questions, Satan crooked his finger at me before spinning on his heel and walking towards the depths of the massive castle. “Come, Amara. Let us have wine while you meet my new litter. I’m overjoyed at their antics, as I am sure you will be. And you can tell me what brings you to the bowels of Hell.”

  Like all of the archangels, Lucifer was the epitome of physical perfection; tall, broad, and muscular, with a perfect smile and flashy eyes sparkling with life. His independant flare made him hard to resist. It was no wonder he was envied by his brethren prior to his fall from Grace. But I knew exactly who he was and what he was capable of- I was no fool.

  Likewise, Luc would never underestimate me. He was the only archangel who ended up with his own realm, after all. He was smart enough to keep what he sacrificed for. There was no doubt in my mind, regardless of the outcome of this battle, Lucifer would put himself above everything else. There was no ‘team’ in Hell. I knew I couldn’t trust him, but keeping his power and as many souls as he could corrupt under his control would always be his primary goal which made him easy to assess.

  We walked through double French doors into a beautiful garden. Plants and flowers of every variety bloomed and flourished, perfuming the air with an exotic fragrance. Stepping down three marble steps, the lush growth opened up to present a lovely sitting area. A small barista-style table with chairs graced the center, a wine decanter, long-stemmed glasses and a platter of rare fruits added to the appeal.

  “Please, Ms. Rush, sit. It was so rare for Death to grace me with his company, but I always enjoyed our visits. I hope to continue the tradition with you. And don’t think of me as callous; I am truly and deeply sorry for your loss. It is monumental.”

  “I’m not accepting that notion yet, Luc. I have reasons to believe not only is Callon not dead, but that he was aware of the plot to unseat him. This is the reason for my visit today.” I clenched my jaw, his condolences were sincere, and it hit hard.

  Extending a glass of red wine to me, he pointed towards a large wooden crate on the other side of the table. The walls were tall, about three feet, and it was constructed of thick lumber with multiple iron braces on each corner for support. “This will make you smile. Come here and see the babies.” His smile was warm and he offered his arm to escort me.

  Looping my arm through his elbow, he walked me to the container, my curiosity getting the best of me. Peering inside, I couldn’t stop the squeal of excitement that left me. “My goodness, Luc! Puppies! Am I seeing what I think, are those hellhound babies?” My excitement was genuine, I loved puppies. Plus, the oddity of hellhounds always intrigued me. Lucifer was the only being to possess them, and they were loyal only to him to their death. No one knew exactly when or how they came to be; Callon was determined Lucifer somehow ‘created’ them.

  Six squirmy puppies raised their heads from napping upon hearing my outburst. Happy for company, they jumped up and tottled, tripping and bouncing to the edge of the box. Unlike regular dogs, these were Satan’s pets. Some of the pups shouldered two heads, some three. They were various shades of grey, black and chocolate brown with dense, plush fur. One of the most intimidating features was their tail: It was a snake, with a life all its own. I had seen the adults, and the grown viper that swayed and surveyed its environment was fast, deadly, and calculated. But on the pups, the little reptiles kept an innocence about them, making them cute instead of scary.

  “Would you like to hold one?” Lucifer asked, seeming intrigued by my excitement.

  “Can I? Will the little snake bite me?”

  “Nah. The serpents only strike when attacking or defending. They are actually quite passive and curious creatures. As for the pups, they would love to make a meal of your leather sandals, but they are friendly and adore attention. I would be honored to let you play with one. Which one calls to you?”

  That seemed like an odd question, but instantly, I honed in on the one colored much like a Doberman or Rottweiler. The pup sported two heads, not three, and the little snake bobbing around kept its tiny head tipped to the side, watching me. “That one,” I said, pointing to my choice.

  “Ah, she’s a sharp one. A fine choice.” He leaned over the box and swooped up the tiny pup, its little snake whipping back and forth, the two heads licking and pawing at him like he wasn’t the Prince of Darkness. He was so gentle with the baby and I could see he genuinely cared for them. Extending the little hellhound to me, I put my glass of wine on the table and took her from him, looking into two sets of eyes sizing me up, quickly deciding that I was perfect for licking, chewing and squirming on.

  I plopped down on the ground, sitting cross-legged and let myself enjoy this little luxury. It had been so long since I played with a puppy, and I found myself laughing and giggling at her antics as she flopped onto her back and began chewing on my fingers. I also realized I had not enjoyed a genuine smile or a reason to laugh since Callon disappeared. How ironic the first glimpse of joy I experienced came in Hell.

  Two Heads and a Forked Tongue

  Lucifer chose a pup of his own and he also sat down, stretching his long legs out so the baby could lounge on his lap. He reached up and grabbed our wine from the table, handing me my glass. “Now that we are in a better mindset, tell me the reason for your visit and what I can do for you, Amara.”

  I told him everything. It made it easier to speak of losing Callon and all the events taking place afterward by keeping my eyes on the little hellhound. When I got to the part about the condemned soul in Morocco, I raised my eyes to him. He was studying me, his fingers abscently stroking the neck of the pup he held.

  “Condemned souls from my prison are on mortal videotape trespassing in Callon’s holdings? And the one in Morocco told you that Death was dead and there were attempts being made to control his power? Well, Hell- excuse the pun. I am feeling a bit disappointed in some of my Lieutenants. The souls confined are never to be let out. Ever. Since the dawn of time, I have strictly forbade it. For them to be caught on camera gives me the proof I need to wreak havoc on those responsible. I need to assure you that I have no knowledge of this, nor would I have condoned it.”

  “I’m not sure if that makes me feel better, or worse, Luc. I mean, it would make sense, right? If Callon and I were to be removed as counterbalance, one of the factions would prevail. Is that not what you want? To rule all?”

  He stared skyward absently, contemplating his response before looking back at me. “Not entirely. I have been the King of Hell since its inception. I was its inception. Callon and I have spoken many times on the subject of the power exchange and counterbalance. Your mate was, or is, incredibly astute. I don’t believe I was ‘cast out’ of Heaven by the Lord’s command alone. No, I don’t think it was that simple. I think the Beginning
truly destined this role for me all along. I feel living amongst the other archangels and with the Lord gave me a unique perspective on how to operate this place. Let’s be honest, how can you create the perfect Hell if you haven’t experienced Heaven?”

  “So you aren’t trying to sway souls to give you an edge to overtake the Light?”

  “The answer is not a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’, I’m afraid. Yes, I corrupt souls, I feed the temptation and evil needed to taint the mortals of all realms. Yes, those who fall into my trap increase the power of Hell. But do I live every day waiting for the chance to take over Heaven and slaughter everyone behind those pompous golden gates? No, I really don’t. And my reason is quite simple: Callon was right, he always has been. The Beginning will never allow it to happen, Amara. We Timeless are an egotistical creation. We love to believe that everything exists for us and us alone. But that’s not true. Callon proved it time and time again, through countless realms. I can’t cause enough hate, discontent, and evil to change the tides. On the other hand, there can be churches on every corner, yet the Light never prevails. The souls weren’t created for us to use, barter, and exchange for the ultimate victory, quite the contrary. I believe we were created for the souls.”

  To get such a raw, emotional answer from the Devil wasn’t what I expected. “Can I believe you, Lucifer? Are you trying to soften me to your cause? Make me believe that you aren’t behind any of this?”

  He smiled, but it wasn’t the sinister grin I saw in the foyer with the demon girl. It was a real smile, filled with warmth. “I will lie to you someday, Amara Rush. I may try and trick you to benefit myself. I may even betray you. But that is not today. You have no reason to believe me, one way or the other. All I can say in my defense is I believe in The Counterbalance and its importance to the souls. I will find the traitor in my ranks and all those involved. I will destroy them slowly and painfully, making an example for all to see. There will be no more condemned souls in the mortal realms, that much I can assure you. As far as the true death of the soul, that’s the only part I find disturbing. We need to determine who was able to harness enough of Death’s power to pluck that soul out of existence. It’s a really dangerous trick for anyone other than The Counterbalance to be able to possess. Do you plan on visiting the Lord and seeing where he stands?”

  “Yes, I do. Should the players in Callon’s disappearance become known and there are indeed Timeless on both sides, will it escalate the war between the factions? I want them all destroyed, Luc. And I want to do it myself. The judgment they will face will be severe. I don’t want you or any of the members of the Light seeking retribution against me for avenging my mate. I won’t back down, and I will win, regardless of the cost.”

  “I will stand by your side as you rip the soul free from any Timeless from my realm that dared defy me and The Counterbalance. You will not see me on the other side of a battle line, Amara.”

  A weight was lifted from me with his resolution. I cared not who or what I needed to kill to accomplish my goal of revenge. The blackness taking up residence under my skin held no pity or compassion at all. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I even cared about the souls at this point. But I still cared deeply about Callon’s legacy. I cared only what he thought of me, which was the only thing keeping me from burning both factions to the ground right now- innocent or not. I couldn’t let go of his ideals. I couldn’t give in to that much darkness. He wouldn’t want me to.

  Feeling a deep, primal pull, I swung my head to see Death’s cape draped over the back of one of the chairs. I looked back to Lucifer to see him sporting an ornery grin. “Looks like I get to stay here and play with puppies while someone goes to work!” he laughed.

  Grumbling to myself, I picked up the sleeping pup and kissed both her little heads before handing her back to her master. “Thank you. I needed this more than you know.”

  He pursed his lips while staring at me. “I can’t believe I am saying this. Do you want her, Amara?”

  “What? The puppy? She’s a hellhound, Luc. They are only loyal to you and no one, in the history of time has ever tamed or owned a hellhound other than you!”

  “You are correct. They are mine- I created them. They are loyal to me because they are bound to me. You connected with this female in a manner I have never seen before. She cares for you, and you for her. I would release my bond on her and she would be free to choose you as her master, which I feel she would do gladly. Hell’s hounds are easy to care for and loyal to their dying day. Trust me, I do not make this offer lightly. I have never given up one of my hounds- they are one of dearest, most prized possessions.”

  My brain swam at the possibilities. He was right- I felt something for the pup I couldn’t explain. I needed her, yet could not explain why. Maybe I was lonely and she would fill that void. “I would love her, Luc. I would take care of her and the two of us would be a great team. But I have one question before I go. Why?”

  He looked at me, his eyebrows drawn, and concern flashed through his amber eyes. “Because I think you are going to need her, my friend.”

  I Miss You

  Like a gentleman, Lucifer escorted me to the door, and even held my cape so I could slip it on. He promised when my pup was weaned, he would deliver her to my realm and release his bond from her. In the meantime, he would be looking into the treason at the prison and the release of the condemned souls.

  He was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma but I felt the key to figuring out what made the Devil tick was simple- don’t try. He was Satan. That was all you really needed to know. Don’t set yourself up for disappointment. But since everything went sideways in my life, this was the first conversation I managed to have with any Timeless not leaving me confused, leery, and pissed off. For that, I was grateful.

  I conducted my duties as Death with as much compassion and honor as I could. It was difficult with Metatron being included as a guide for this cycle. Everytime I looked at him, I wanted to toss him through a fucking brick wall. I needed to get together with Jeremiel and find out who he told about my trip to Morocco. Jer was designed with honesty as his primary trait. He may not have intentionally betrayed me- he may have merely told the truth when questioned. But the way Metatron kept eyeing me when he thought I wasn’t looking wasn’t sitting right with me, either. I needed to get my never-ending list of errands done so I could head to Heaven and talk to God. I needed to know what the Light thought of the recent events and where they stood. Talking to the archangels wasn’t cutting it.

  Completing my reaping of the souls from all the realms left me exhausted. I hadn’t slept in I don’t know how long, my internal clock was all screwed up. Days were passing in the mortal realms since the last time I was home. I finished my duties, stopped in New York to meet with the accountant, and immediately went home.

  It was raining when I arrived, which wasn’t a common occurrence here and the lukewarm drops slipping down my cloak fed my melancholy. Normally, I enjoyed a gentle shower, but this was different. It felt like the realm itself was grieving; sadness saturated the air. Death’s home was crying for him, letting its warm tears fall from the sky.

  I entered through the thick, hardwood door and watched the droplets slide down the plush fabric to land on the polished mahogany floor. I hung the cloak on the peg and walked into the kitchen to prepare coffee. I needed food. I had not been this thin since I was mortal and dying of cancer. The dress I donned while in Morocco hung off my frame. I planned to return there; I left my tote and I didn’t like the feeling of being separated from the precious mementos tucked inside. Thinking of the native food made my stomach rumble in anticipation.

  I grabbed a cup of coffee and an apple off the counter before walking into the office to finish my duty to the souls. It wasn’t easy to sit at Callon’s desk and perform this task. His presence surrounded me, urging my mind to recall memories- so many memories. God, I miss you, baby. As the ledger began its gentle tug transcribing the passing of souls, I closed my ey
es and surrendered to the whisper of the past.

  Callon sat behind the substantial desk dressed in a white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I stood in the doorway, just soaking in the perfection that was my mate. He was concentrating on the paperwork spread out before him, something from his investment firm, if I were to guess. A lock of his dark hair slipped down onto his forehead, and my fingers itched to run my fingers through it. His broad shoulders pushed at the confines of the perfectly tailored shirt, but my mind saw the lean muscle underneath and I longed to kiss and nibble the area between his shoulder and neck.

  Approaching him, he looked up at me, his silver eyes sparkling with life and the love he felt for me. There was never a doubt in my mind about that. This man was mine, and I was his. His love for me would never fade, or falter. His commitment to our bond would never wither. He was my everything. I walked around the back of his chair and placed my hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently.

  “Mmmm. I like that. I’ll give you 10 minutes to stop.”

  I continued the massage and leaned down to run my tongue down the edge of his ear. He shivered and a deep moan vibrated in his chest. Spinning in the chair, at the same time he grabbed me around my waist with one hand, he swept the desk free of clutter with the other. Completing the circle, he set me on the desk in front of him. With his palms on my lower back, he pulled me to the edge, my legs on either side of his chest, his head between my breasts, his hot breath heating more than my skin.

  “Your mate requires your attention,” I whispered, already breathless.

  “That is a task I will never tire of, my love.” He scooped me up, my legs wrapping around his waist to squeeze tightly while his lips claimed mine. Lost in the feeling of his mouth and his hands holding me close, I let him carry me to our bed.

 

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