The Passion Season

by Libby Doyle

“Would the Corrupted be involved in this planning?”

  “No. He might summon Melembec and Razael, the leaders of the Corrupted, but only to explain what he had already decided. Lucifer does not take advice.” Barakiel rubbed his forearm under the table as the eyes of the commanders drilled into him. He did not want to tell them anything untrue. “He might have convened the Corrupted to bathe them in his presence, to renew their devotion.”

  Camael snorted. “What commander would waste time with such foolishness?”

  “Certainly no high commander of the Realm would do so,” Barakiel said. “Our warriors sink all they are into their duty, but who knows what drives the Corrupted? I think they need Lucifer. I have looked into their eyes as I killed them. They are filled with the grim power of Destruction, but their individuality has been erased.” He surveyed the faces around the table. He could tell that most understood.

  “Although I have not seen my father since I was an adolescent, I remember what it was like to be in his presence. He inspires obeisance. His power is seductive. Judging from what happened to my mother, few can withstand his will.”

  Remiel placed her hand on his arm. He nodded and smiled, fortified by her concern.

  “Well, whatever your father is doing, he always knows which battalion is weakest,” Galizur said, leaning forward and placing his fists in front of him. “Perhaps he has a spy.” His broad shoulders humped over the table as he attacked with his sharp black eyes.

  Barakiel returned the high commander’s glare, anger settling over him like battle armor.

  Do you actually think you are being clever with your implied accusation?

  “We would be grateful for any insight you may have on this subject, warrior,” Camael said, as he threw a stern glance at Galizur.

  “No doubt my father keeps careful records of the battles,” Barakiel said. “Including casualties. To suggest we have a traitor when there is a simple explanation is useless paranoia.”

  His acid tone drew a cautionary look from Remiel and renewed scowling from Galizur. He had skirted dangerously close to disrespect, which no warrior should ever show to a high commander, not even a stupid one.

  “The Realm’s Watch has been alerted to the possibility of a spy, high commander,” said Kalaziel, one of the battalion commanders whom Barakiel counted as a friend. “They will be vigilant, but thus far they assure me there is no sign. Lucifer has not infiltrated the Realm since he murdered Barakiel’s mother and sought to torture him with her corpse.” She turned her warm caramel eyes his way. “Pardon my callousness.”

  Barakiel waved off her concern.

  You remind them that I am unlikely to spy for my father.

  “Let us set aside Lucifer’s means of determining his targets for the time being,” Osmadiel said. “The more immediate problem is that his tactics have been effective. The weakest battalions continue to take heavy casualties, while strong battalions slaughter demons as if the warriors are at sword practice. We must rebalance, or Lucifer will punch through our lines.

  “Remiel,” she continued. “I would like Barakiel to fight for both of us. My battalion needs his sword. Lucifer’s hatred for me burns white hot, no doubt because my warriors drove him from the Realm. He has hammered us. So many have died that the others struggle to fend off their grief.”

  “I am sorry for the suffering of your warriors, high commander,” Remiel said. “But are you sure Barakiel’s presence would not worsen the situation?”

  “I do not think so. As you have told me, the Corrupted make stupid mistakes in their fever to deliver the son to the father. And, as the warriors have told me, Barakiel is unstoppable.”

  “That he is,” Remiel said, chuckling. “Well then, I have no objection. Barakiel?”

  “I will go wherever I am needed, commander.”

  As if I have a choice.

  “Good,” Osmadiel said. “You and I will work out a schedule, Remiel.”

  “Yes, high commander. I will make adjustments.”

  “With respect,” Barakiel blurted. “May I comment as to strategy?”

  Osmadiel pursed her lips.

  “No, you may not,” Galizur said.

  “Why not?” Camael asked. “We brought him here to gain his insight. Please go ahead, Barakiel.”

  “Thank you, high commander. You honor me, but I believe your approach is too cautious. You speak of lines and rebalancing. These defensive tactics give Lucifer too much time. We should go on the offensive or warriors will continue to die with nothing to show for it but the same sectors of the Turning. We need to hunt down the Corrupted. If we kill them, Lucifer will fall.”

  Barakiel thought he detected a reaction among the high commanders. A short frozen moment. A beat of anxiety. But he couldn’t be sure.

  “Mind your place, warrior,” Galizur snarled. “Such a decision is for the Council.”

  “I know that, sir, but the Council will listen to you concerning military strategy. We need to have this discussion. I see how we fight. We could prevail.”

  “Yes, warrior. The commanders told us that you expressed this opinion in your previous tactical meetings,” Osmadiel said. “But we have discussed an offensive with the Council already. It is not prepared to suffer those kinds of casualties.”

  “Are we not taking heavy casualties under our current strategy?” Remiel asked. “I have informed so many Covalent that their beloved mates will never return that I hear their wails in my sleep.”

  “We would lose many more as if we met Lucifer in the Destructive Realm,” Camael said. “We do not know what we would find there.”

  “Well, let us find out,” said Hagith, a battalion commander who often groused about the timidity of the Council. He straightened his stocky frame in his chair and waggled his bushy eyebrows. “Travelers have explored the Destructive Realm before. They can do it again.”

  “Yes!” Barakiel grinned at him. “My father’s realm is disorienting, but I think Hagith is right. The travelers could help us prepare.”

  “I agree,” Remiel said. “We should at least reconnoiter before Lucifer slowly bleeds our forces to death.”

  “We outnumber the Corrupted,” Barakiel added. “We should press forward.”

  “I think you fail to appreciate the advantage of home ground,” Camael said. “As it stands, we fight with our backs to the Realm. The demon hordes cannot surround us. If they did, many more would die. None in the City would escape the wails of the bereaved then.”

  “It will not happen. Not if we are ready,” Barakiel said. “We can form a circle to face them. Instead of standing with our backs to the Realm, we stand with our backs to each other and travel outward in an irresistible wave, like a tsunami.”

  “Like a what?” Camael replied. “A soo-nom-ee? You have been too long in the Earthly Realm, Barakiel.”

  Everyone laughed a little too hard as if trying to throw off the gloom that hung in the air. All except Galizur.

  “Do not think the Council forgets your personal reasons for pushing an offensive against Lucifer,” he said. “Victory would mean the end of your exile.”

  Barakiel almost shoved out of his chair to his feet.

  How dare you say that to me?

  Remiel placed her hand on his arm in warning. He took a deep breath before he spoke.

  “High commander, let my actions in battle speak for me. I would never suggest a strategy or tactic for personal reasons. I believe an offensive strategy would be best for us all.”

  Galizur was about to reply when Pellus’ voice came floating out of the Conduit that glowed blue by the side of the door.

  “This is a meeting of the High Command!” Galizur bellowed.

  “I beg your pardon, high commanders,” Pellus said, “but if Barakiel is to remain any longer in the Realm, he must be cloaked.”

  “You may take your leave, warrior,” Osmadiel said. “This is a discussion better suited to the leadership alone. I will see you in battle.”

  “I will be h
onored to fight beside you, high commander.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Benton, Pennsylvania

  THE CAMPSITES OCCUPIED a sun-dappled point jutting into the lake in Ricketts Glen State Park. Chipmunks darted from the underbrush beneath stands of maple, hemlock and mountain laurel. Zan fished a bag of peanuts out of her pack and threw them a few. They snatched their prizes and scurried off to sit on a log, nibbling.

  “Honey, look at the chipmunks. Aren’t they cute?”

  Rainer grabbed the sleeping bags out of the trunk and threw them into the tent. “Yes, cute,” he said, barely glancing at them. His distraction was an inauspicious beginning to a weekend meant for him to build a friendship with Mel.

  The fight with Pellus still bothers him. Why does he think I can’t see it?

  Mel, Emmett, and Lucy arrived a few minutes later, to Zan’s great relief. She’d met their friends from the university at parties, but she didn’t know them well. She worried about whether they would like Rainer, then got annoyed with herself for worrying.

  After Mel extricated Lucy from her car seat, she set her down and introduced her to Rainer. The little girl clamped onto her mother’s leg and stared up at him with saucer eyes.

  “She’s not usually shy,” Emmett said.

  “How’s my little sweet pea?” Zan said to Lucy, to coax her away from her mother’s leg. Lucy reached for her. Zan lifted her up and whirled her around. “That’s my girl. Don’t you want to say hello?”

  Lucy hid her face against Zan’s chest, then peeked out at Rainer from under her curly hair.

  “Hello, Lucy, a pleasure to meet you.” Rainer spoke in a gentle voice and smiled, but Lucy hid her face again. When Zan put her back on the ground, she resumed staring. Rainer crouched some distance away and tilted his head. He amped up his radiant smile.

  “Would you shake my hand, Lucy? It would make me so happy.”

  She tottered halfway toward him then looked back at Zan, who picked her up again. Still in a crouch, Rainer held his hand up toward Lucy. She grasped his finger and smiled. He made a show of it.

  “Yes, yes, so wonderful to meet you, Miss Lucy.”

  “Mission accomplished,” Mel said, then spread her arms. “Awesome spot, isn’t it? I reserved all six sites on the point. Nice and private.”

  “That’s quite a tent you’ve got there,” Emmett said. “What is that, an anteroom?”

  “Well, we were going to bring my smaller tent,” Zan said. “But then we realized that Rainer wouldn’t fit.”

  “Ha! You need a Rainer-sized tent,” Mel said. “You’re already set up. How did you manage that? When did you get here?”

  “About a half hour ago,” Zan said.

  “How the hell did you get here so fast?”

  Zan didn’t want to tell Mel that Rainer was playing Formula One on the highway. “I guess we just got lucky with traffic,” she said. Rainer glanced at her, smirking.

  Don’t twist your sexy lips at me, you lunatic.

  Another car arrived with Sarah, Victor, and their ten-year-old son Brooks. Sarah was a colleague of Emmett’s in the English Department at Temple University. Introductions were made and they all shook hands and commented on the beautiful day. The boy stared at Rainer like he was a circus freak.

  The last family arrived about twenty minutes later. Brian was another English professor, accompanied by his wife Caroline and their five-year-old daughter, Emily. Lucy was excited to see Emily and they ran off together to poke around under rocks. After introductions were made, Mel put Emmett and Rainer to work arranging the picnic tables in one of the sites closest to the lake—the one with the best fire pit—to serve as her kitchen.

  “Home away from home,” she said.

  Though it was late afternoon, they hiked off to see a few of many waterfalls in the Glens Natural Area, the campsite’s main attraction. Rainer had been looking forward to this trip. Of late, he found less and less time to spend in nature.

  To be in this lovely place with Zan will restore me before I must take up my onerous duty.

  Dewdrop chirps of birds played in the humid air as they strolled a narrow path through the trees, a reddish brown line across a forest floor lush with bright green ferns. There were few people, the reason Mel scheduled the trip right after the Fourth of July. As Rainer walked beside Zan, he took a giant lungful of air.

  “Ah, smell that,” he said. “Fresh, damp air. Soil, wood, and leaves. There are few smells better.”

  “I’d have to say you’re right, honey,” Zan said. He leaned to kiss her.

  The waterfalls did not disappoint, especially Harrison Wright Falls, the last on that stretch of trail. Water from a fast-moving stream fanned out at the site of a forty-foot ledge built from layered gray rock covered with deep green moss and pale lichen. The water fell in a glistening veil over a shallow natural cave to form a pool at the base of the ledge that rippled outward to gather in a stream once again and continue southward. The lowering sun cut through the trees in bands, creating flashes of silver and white on the water and streaks of glowing green on the mossy ledge. They stopped to admire it. The children splashed about at the edge of the pool.

  Rainer picked his way along the slippery rocks to the curtain of falling water. He leaned back, wetting his hair and his shirt then raising his arms to smooth off the excess. When he looked up, every woman there was staring at him except Zan, who played in the shallows with Lucy.

  “Come out here, Zan,” Rainer said. “The water is cold, but it feels wonderful.”

  “I want to go, Auntie Zan!” Lucy said.

  “Me, too,” Brooks said.

  “I don’t know about that,” Sarah said.

  “See what you did, Rainer?” Mel scowled. “Is it bad? Is it slippery to walk over there?”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Yes, it is quite slippery. Let us help.” Rainer gestured to Zan, who joined him under the water. With the two of them at one end and Emmett and Victor at the other, navigating the rocks wasn’t difficult. The children were fascinated by the little room created by the curtain of water. While Rainer and Zan held onto them, Lucy and Emily kept sticking their faces in and out while Emmett shouted, “There you are! Wait, where did you go?” causing the girls to giggle.

  The sun had warmed the shallow pool at the base of the falls to a tolerable temperature, so they all took a dip. Rainer circled Zan in his arms, softly kissing water droplets off her face. She grinned and danced away from him, stepping lightly along the rocks to the veil of water. Rainer watched her.

  Mmmmm, I want those legs wrapped around me.

  Caroline’s voice nudged him from his reverie. No doubt she didn’t think he could hear her from where she stood at the side of the pool with Mel.

  “Check out the way he’s looking at her,” she said. “My, oh my.”

  “Yeah. Rainer’s an intense guy,” Mel replied.

  “He’s unbelievably gorgeous, but I think that would scare me.”

  “I know what you mean. It doesn’t scare Zan, though. She eats it up.”

  Raising his hand to his mouth to hide his smile, Rainer decided he’d better stop lighting his eyes with lust. When the group headed back to the campsites, he stopped Zan after they had walked fifty feet or so.

  “My love, let them go. Let’s stay here for a while.”

  Zan’s eyes grew big. She caught Mel’s attention, waving.

  “Hey, Mel! We’re going to hike to the top of the falls. I know you can’t go up there with the kids, so we’ll meet you back at the campsite.”

  Mel didn’t reply. Zan and Rainer went back up the trail to ascend the jumble of rocks.

  Zan paused on the rocky trail to look off the way Mel and the others had gone. “Are they out of sight?” she asked. Rainer nodded.

  Without a word, they made their way through the golden light back to the base of the falls. They walked along the rocks to the curtain of water and entered the shallow cave behind it. Rainer wrapped Zan in his arms and kis
sed her.

  “Mmmmm, I was desperate to hold you,” he whispered.

  “Do things to me,” Zan murmured. They peeled off their clothing. The exertion of the recent scramble up the rocks and the heat of their need left their skin burning, creating a delicious contrast between hot and cold as their limbs moved back and forth through the thin veil of water. Their movements caused fragments of light to shoot through and land, trembling, on the walls.

  When they were unclothed, Rainer held Zan tight against him as he kissed her, her legs wrapped around his waist. His mouth pursued hers with gentle insistence, a kiss so inviting she wanted to fold herself into him and never leave. She felt him in that place between her legs, made quivering and sensitive by the quiet strength of his kiss.

  “Oh, my love, you feel so good, so good.” He ran his hands down her back to squeeze her more firmly against him for a moment, before turning to hold her up to the cascade, like an offering. The water ran down her neck and followed the contour of her breast to fall off her nipple in a thick rivulet. Rainer covered her nipple with his mouth, gently sucking. He drank from her, his eyes closed, his hands spread flat against her. Zan moaned, overwhelmed by the gushing water, the heat of their skin meeting the cold, the soft feel of Rainer’s mouth on her breast. He moved to her lips as he turned toward the rear of the cave.

  “Hold on to the rock,” he said. He lowered his hands to her hips and brought her down, rubbing against her, seeking with his body. The steel smooth tip of his cock stroked her cleft, cold water mixing with the intense heat created by his touch. Zan’s hips shuddered.

  “I need you,” she said. Rainer leaned back to enter her. He slid in as Zan pushed against the rock and moved her hips to feel him there, his hardness massaging her. The heat grew inside her. Rainer reached deeper, his head thrown back, his eyes closed. Zan’s cries came in time with him as she rolled her hips forward and back. She watched his face as they moved together, rhythmically, ecstatically.

  You are so beautiful.

  When Zan climaxed she lost her grip on the rock and brought her arms to her head as her body convulsed. Rainer held her against him and let himself go with a long, low growl. They grew still, listening to the rushing water. After a while, he kissed her and cradled her, running his lips along her face.