Deadly Desires

by Jennifer Salaiz

“Leave it,” Marcella whispered. “The simple part is me. No extravagant designs or embroidery.” She moved her hand and the tiny diamonds scattered throughout the entire length, so small that they only sparkled when she moved. Standing perfectly still, the eye wouldn’t even be able to see them.

  Jason and Donavon stepped back, and her other half wiped a tear from his cheek. “You look perfect. Oh my God. Samael is the luckiest guy in the entire universe.”

  “Agreed,” Donavon said. Even he was getting teary eyed as he took her in.

  She looked at the crown resting on her forehead. Her long curls were always down. Marcella closed her eyes and pictured a high, full bun accented with tiny sparkles. A long lace veil attached underneath and was as long as her height. The makeup that she wanted to cover her face needed to be as natural as possible, but her eyes had to stand out with thinly placed, dark eyeliner.

  Marcella took in her appearance in the mirror and gasped. Her lips were already naturally more of a redder tint and were just glossed over. The woman who stood before her looked completely different than what Samael was used to seeing.

  “Oh, Marcella, my queen,” Nayla whispered. Her hand came to her chest and her mouth was parted. It was the same expression that filled her men. Before anyone could say anything else, Dom and Ambrose appeared next to them. Their eyes grew big and they all looked like statues to her.

  “Well, say something,” she said, smiling at them.

  “I’m speechless, hold on,” Dominic said, shaking his head. “Marcella…”

  Ambrose laughed at Dom and walked over to her. “You’re the most beautiful bride there ever was, or ever will be. I can’t wait for Samael to see you.”

  “Wow, me either,” Zepar said, walking in. “Lucky bastard. My father should have made you for me.”

  She laughed and stepped down from the pedestal they had her standing on. At the reality that it was almost time, Marcella felt her body begin to shake. Micah kicked and she tried to comfort him with her hand. He must have been able to pick up on her nervousness.

  “I just came to tell you that Samael is ready and everyone is waiting downstairs. If you’re ready to go, I’ll inform him to head down there.” Zepar walked over and kissed her cheek. “Are you ready, my sister?”

  The men around her were the happiest she’d ever seen them. She looked at her collector and soon-to-be new brother. “I’m ready.”

  * * * *

  Candles lit up the great hall that had now been turned into what looked like the inside of a church. Pews rested on two sides. It matched up perfectly with the stairs Samael knew Marcella would be coming down. White roses, accented with lavender and pink flowers, rested on the outside of the seats, along the white carpeted aisle. Overhead, a large diamond chandelier held even more candles, lighting up the large space even more. There were flowers everywhere, and their beauty reminded him of her. It was completely the opposite of what they’d had before.

  Their first wedding had been so dark. The last thing he wanted was for it to be that way again. No black and red decorations. He wanted something just as pure as their marriage was going to be. White and light and put together with nothing but love. And that’s what he’d done with creating this space for his soon-to-be bride. When she came into the hall, he wanted to her to be blown away with how he’d adorned it. The room didn’t even look like the same space.

  Zepar appeared and Samael could see his eyes were glassy. It made him even more nervous. He pulled at the cream-colored silk tie and adjusted it against the matching vest. Although his suit was a dark color, he couldn’t bear for the tie or vest to be.

  The pews were completely full and Samael could feel himself starting to shake. He turned to his brother. “Did you see Marcella? Is she okay?”

  The look Zepar gave him only said he already knew the answer. “She’s doing great, Samael. Calm. She’ll be here shortly.”

  Dominic, Ambrose, and Donavon appeared into view on the stairs. They were accompanied by Nayla, Jenel, and Ann. As they walked down the aisle toward him, all of their eyes were red. Dominic’s were slightly swollen. The man he’d known forever came up and gave him a hug first. The women took Marcella’s side.

  “You’re the lucky man ever.” Dominic kissed his cheek and came to stand next to him. Ambrose and Donavon gave him big hugs and took their places past Dom.

  A light music started to play and everyone stood. Samael could feel his pulse in every inch of his body. He swallowed hard, and Marcella and Jason turned the corner of the stairs and came right into his view. Samael reached out and grabbed Dominic’s hand. He couldn’t breathe against her beauty. The moment was everything he’d always wanted, and a blessing he never thought he’d have.

  They walked down the white carpeted stairs and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He rubbed the tears away to get rid of the blurriness. There was no way he was going to miss a second of Marcella making her way to him. A huge smile lit her face as she took in the room, and then him. Just seeing her reaction was well worth all the thought he’d put into making her day perfect.

  Jason stood tall as they entered the aisle. He was by far the one crying the hardest. The guy was like a big teddy bear, and to Marcella, he was her everything. He always had been. Samael couldn’t imagine how hard her dear friend was taking things. But knowing that Jason supported their marriage to the degree that he did made him love the guy even more.

  Tissues were making their way around the crowd in abundance. Samael could see them moving, out of the corner of his eyes. But he didn’t dare let them capture his attention completely. He kept it right where it needed to be. On Marcella’s face.

  Jason stopped just before him. His lips pressed into hers and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. Marcella’s eyes were filled with tears as Jason went to stand next to Donavon.

  The moment Marcella stepped forward, Samael held himself back from completely breaking down. It was too much to see this beautiful woman who shared such a tortured past with him completely accept the man he’d become today. To decide that although her men would still be in her life just as much as they were now, the bond he and her would share overpowered them all. It was the ultimate gift she could give, and she was choosing him.

  As they faced each other and held hands, Zepar began to give a speech on the importance of love, and what it meant when two souls came together in a union of this magnitude. There was no divorce, or getting out if you decided you’d had enough. The words “till death do you part,” meant exactly that. And Zepar was making that extremely clear to everyone in the crowd. They needed to know their queen had a king, and from this moment on it would be him.

  Marcella’s finger gently wiped a tear off his cheek. Samael hadn’t even realized they were still falling down his face. He’d been so in the moment that no one else existed but the two of them.

  Zepar took a step toward them and Samael knew that was his cue to say the customary vows. It was traditional for the men to be the only one to express the commitment and devotion to their partner, and he prayed his voice worked well enough to be able to say them.

  “With this ring, I will love, honor, and cherish you for the rest of my days.” Although technically he knew he could stop there, he couldn’t just leave it at that. “You are my heart, and the reason I breathe. Until my dying day, I will forever be yours. Only then, will my soul be at rest, knowing that I will be with you always.”

  Marcella sobbed as he glided the gold band against the diamond ring she wore. She slid his band into place, and before Zepar could say “kiss the bride,” he pulled her into his arms. Cheers went up all around them, but Samael barely heard them over the roaring of his heart.

  Their kiss was sweet and slow. As he broke his lips away from hers, the sound of the front doors slammed open. Cold air burst through the great room so violently that he didn’t have to see who it was to know. Before he could grab Marcella to put her behind him, she was gone.

  * * * *

  There
were no bars or cell that surrounded Marcella like she’d imagined there would be when she saw Samael’s father before her. One minute she was lost in her love’s kiss, and the next she was standing in an all too familiar black room. Her fear as the blue eyes burned into hers was so profound that Marcella had fainted. When she awoke she was lying in a bed, and he was gone.

  As she circled around the large room, she knew it was pointless. The two doors that connect to her space were locked and without any windows. There was no other escape. Her powers were gone, and she knew it was because of the spell that was imbedded into the walls surrounding her. If there was one thing the Devil wasn’t, it was stupid.

  She felt around at the souls inside of her, and tried to grab onto Samael’s. Maybe she could pull him through. Tingling erupted in her belly but stopped at that. Even summoning was impossible.

  The rustling of her dress sounded loud against the silence. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in here, but she knew it wasn’t for more than a few hours. If it had been any longer, Micah would have been growing crazy with his kicks. He was only now starting to move around inside of her.

  A clicking noise brought Marcella spinning around, and suddenly he was there. “I thought I got rid of you.”

  It wasn’t what she had been expecting to hear. She swallowed hard and tried not say the wrong thing. “You did. But it appears that somehow I came back.”

  The nonchalant way that he strolled in didn’t fool her. He had seemed as calm as a sleeping snake right before he’d killed her. But the fact remained. He was still a snake.

  “Well, my dear Marcianna—”

  “Marcella,” she corrected.

  His eyes narrowed. “No, you’re Marcianna.”

  She bit her lip, wanting to argue. “Actually, when I was reborn, my parents named me Marcella. I’m not the woman you think I am. I may have her soul and memories, but I’m not her. Not exactly, anyway.”

  “Parents?” He looked at her, confused.

  “Your grace.” Did he seriously not know about any of this? Why had he come and taken her then? What did he know? There were too many questions, and she hated that she wasn’t going to get any answers until she told this long, damn story. “I’m technically only in my twenties. I was born to a couple out of Ingleside, Texas. They raised me, and I had a very normal life until…well, until I killed them on accident.”

  “Go on,” he said, interested.

  As she told him the long story that had unfolded over the last year and a half, she watched as he took in all of her words. She stopped talking when she got to the part about her and Samael being intimate. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something was keeping her from going further.

  “So, my son moved in with you and what? How did it go from that, to you two joining in union tonight?”

  Marcella stepped forward and froze as he looked down at the dress that had become molded to her stomach. His mouth parted and he lowered. She tried to step away, but he grabbed her wrist and jerked her forward.

  “Please.” She tried to pull back, but it was useless. His hand gently went over the roundness and the blue eyes shot up to her.

  “He’s my blood. You hold Samael’s baby?”

  “I was marrying him, wasn’t I?” She tried to reign in her anger. “I love him. I’ve always loved him. You know that. You willed it so.”

  His cheek settled against her stomach and he laughed. “Micah, is it.” He stood. “Not my first choice for a name for my grandson, but it’ll do. After all, Micah hailed from the guardian of miracles. I’d say it’s just what I’ve needed.”

  “You’re not going to kill us?”

  A laugh filled the room. “Him, no. You…I’m still thinking about it. But I have plenty of time to decide. You still have to give birth to him. That’s a few months away.”

  “But what about Samael?” She paused. “If you kill me, will you at least let him have the baby? You haven’t once mentioned your son.”

  The Devil turned around and glared. “Thanks to you, I don’t have any more sons. What I do have is a grandson. And you will not take him away from me.”

  The door slammed behind him and Marcella sunk to the ground. What was she going to do? There had to be a way out of here, but how? As she stared around the dark space, she had no idea.

  Chapter 20

  Sparks flew from the blade as Samael swung the sword as hard as he could. It’d passed the point of Zepar practicing with him to Samael seeing nothing but his father before him. Over and over he struck, and continuously Zepar barely avoided getting his head taken off. There were quite a few cuts covering his brother’s body, and although Samael didn’t feel any pain, he knew he hadn’t come out unscathed.

  “Samael, enough for today.” Zepar lowered his sword, and Samael stabbed the pointed end of his into the ground, angry.

  “How are we going to prepare if we don’t practice?”

  His brother looked at him, shocked. “Samael, we’ve been practicing for hours.”

  “Nine and a half, to be exact.” Ambrose stood from the seat he’d taken on the far side of the bailey. “You’ve both come far in the last two months. It’s very impressive.”

  “Not impressive enough.” Samael rubbed his hand over the growth on his face. Without Marcella, he’d let himself go. The clean-shaven, sharp look he’d sported for her had only lasted the short time she’d been here. When his father had taken her, Samael was ready to march into the gates of hell to get her back. Unfortunately for him and Zepar, the connection to the portal was closed off. No one could get inside. They were in limbo. Without the opportunity to save her, they were stuck waiting for their father to come to them. Which was pointless. He’d apparently washed his hands of him and his brother, and the probability of him coming almost two months later was farfetched, even for him to believe.

  Jason walked outside, looking just as much like shit as the other ones. A beard had grown over his handsome face. The dark hair on his head stuck out everywhere. Bruises scattered across his arms and face. All six of the men lived to prepare for a future battle. None of them were able to face the fact that there might not be one. They had to get Marcella and Micah back. That was just the facts. There was no getting just one of them. It was both or nothing.

  As one of the last conversations he and Marcella had together filtered through his head, Samael recalled her wanting to go to the doctor. From his calculations, he knew she had to be somewhere in the middle of her seventh month. Too many questions filled his mind. What if there were complications? What if Micah wasn’t all right? He tried not to think of the negative possibilities, but as time agonizingly stretched out before him he knew he had to take in everything. Hell held no powers for her. If it did, she’d be back right now. Without her powers she’d never be able to heal herself, after or during the birth. If he didn’t get to her before the time ran out, he might lose her for good.

  Jason grabbed his arm and Samael jerked out of his grasp. It took him a minute to realize that his friend was trying to tell him something.

  “Dude, chill. Nemmy’s here. He’s waiting inside for you.” Jason materialized his sword and pointed it in Ambrose’s direction. They’d be going at it, too, for hours. Once he was done with Nemmy, he’d come out and watch them. He needed to live this life of fighting. To prepare for what he knew would come. If he couldn’t go to his father, he’d have to make his father come to him.

  Hundreds of people crowded in the great hall and he could see them working on their own gifts. After they’d witnessed their queen taken from them, right before their eyes, they’d become just as determined as her men to get her back. An empty sadness hovered through the air, but it was disguised with the sound of metal, gunfire, and the grunts of hand-to-hand combat.

  Samael couldn’t stand to walk through the large great hall. The twisting in his stomach was crippling as he remembered their wedding. So many questions plagued him. How did his father know? How had he breached the multiple layers of secu
rity they had set around their perimeter? He hated not having the answers.

  The door hit the wall as Samael pushed it open. Nemmy and Caspius were sitting on the center couch. The scotch was on the table, and he didn’t even look at them before walking over to grab the bottle. Only after taking a long drink did he make his way to the other sofa.

  “Where have you been,” Samael snapped at the blond-haired angel. “You’ve been gone for months.”

  A confused look passed between the pair. “We had orders that called us out of town. Marcella never called so I assumed she didn’t need me. How is she?” He looked toward the door, nervously. Samael knew he could sense something was wrong.

  The tattoos began to race down his arms and Nemmy’s eyes widened until he was sure they couldn’t get any bigger. “God be praised.” He looked into Samael’s face. “You’ve disconnected from your father. You’re making the steps to join us. Samael, this is such wonderful news.”

  Samael didn’t say anything as Zepar walked in. Nemmy and Caspius pulled out their guns and jumped to their feet. “Calm. Zepar, show them.” The tattoos appeared on him, too, and Nemmy collapsed to the couch while Zepar joined him.

  “You’re both collectors.” The fear that covered Nemmy’s face was well deserved. He should be scared. “Does your father know?” Before they could answer, Nemmy held out his hand. “Wait. Where is Marcella? Why am I speaking to you without her?”

  “My father knows. He took her.”

  “Does she live?” Nemmy’s face angered as he leaned toward them. His eyes scanned their appearance. “Tell me she lives!”

  “She does.” Samael took another drink until the scotch burned his throat. “She’s seven and a half months pregnant with my child. My father won’t kill her until he gets his hands on my son, Micah. That’s all he wants. All he’s ever wanted.”

  “Micah.” Tears came to Nemmy’s eyes. He stood and took the bottle of scotch from Samael’s hand and took a drink. His head jerked and he handed it back over to him. “I wish you would have called me sooner.” He sat back down. “You obviously can’t go in and get her back or else you wouldn’t be here right now. What do you plan to do?”