Heavenly
Hell
Aria Williams
Heavenly Hell
Copyright © 2013 by Aria Williams. All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: August 2013
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1491298848
ISBN-10: 1491298847
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
I want to dedicate this novel to all victims of domestic violence.
I hope this give you to courage to walk away and seek the help that you need.
A huge big thank you to my supporters who have been with me from the start.
Berni Birch, Angela Slatterly, Trishy Kramer, Carissa Reynolds and Karley Mozcar.
This is for my three sister’s, I love them dearly.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter One
Indiana
As I laid the last boot into his side, he grimaced in pain.
“Please stop.”
“I bet that’s what Vanessa said.”
Vanessa was my best friend, and this teacher had taken advantage of her. Nessa was an assistant dance teacher for one of the local ballet companies outside school hours. Her petite frame looked graceful on stage, and being this beautiful ballet dancer gave her a quiet innocence off stage. My best friend looked like a grown up porcelain doll, and I was extremely protective of her.
Sweat poured off his face, and blood seeped from his nose.
I kicked his ribs again, and the feeling of empowerment flowed through my veins, strengthening my soul. It healed the aching hole in my chest that my lover had left behind. This feeling never grew old, and my emotions called out to it.
“Now, if I ever hear of you treating a girl like this again, I’ll find you and hurt you so bad, tonight will seem like a walk in the park. Men like you in positions of authority should keep their little peckers in their pants.”
I walked away from him with my head held high. I had made a great friend in Nessa, and I wouldn’t have anyone hurt those I care for. Simon could go to the police if he wanted, but who would believe him? They would look at the six-foot tall, muscly PE and Human Development teacher and then look at the five-foot four-inches, fifty-seven kilos that is me, and walk away laughing.
Heaven knew exactly what they were doing when they created me, or should I say, punished me. I had fallen from Heaven, but I prefer to say I was banished, over a thousand years ago. In all that time, I haven’t aged past seventeen years old. It must have been funny to suspend me in a teenager’s body forever; yeah, I’m hot as hell, but even that has it downsides and limitations. I feel that being beautiful is a curse, and it does attract a lot of the horrible men who are ruled by desire—men who take rejection one step more and belittle women. And then there are men who are simply pigs; men like Simon, or as we know him, Mr. Hopwood, our teacher.
With this man and other men like him, I turn their actions around and try to re-educate them in ways I’m not too proud of, but they work. Many men are changed forever—becoming wonderful devoted husbands and protective fathers to their precious daughters. The males like Mr. Hopwood occasionally, okay more than occasionally, regularly, need a good arse kicking to rid them of their chauvinistic behavior. I’m sure this wasn’t the first time he’s taken advantage of his students, but it will be the last. I’ll make sure of that.
I work as a private investigator with my friend Israfel, or brother, as I have come to call him over our few hundred years of friendship. If you haven’t already guessed, he is an angel, also. He works the investigation business to use all of the resources to his advantage. His mission: to find his one true angel love, Sariel. I, on the other hand, take the cases that involve cheating husbands, battered wives and sexual harassment. I figure that the women in society need someone to take care of them when they can’t help themselves and who better than me? I am trained in every physical combat technique known to man, and I have unlimited time on my hands. I have no airs about me, so I don’t really care what people think of me.
Looking down at my seven inch high heels, I wiped off the blood and rearranged my dress for the time being. I was going to get changed shortly. After I approached my car, I quickly changed the previous flat tire to brand new one. To lure Simon in I had used the classic damsel in distress technique of mine. Little girls can’t change tires—all men knew that. I conveniently positioned myself in the direction in which this teacher would travel home. Once he noticed my super tight dress and the fact that I was maneuvering the jack into position, the rest, as they say, was history.
In the backseat of my car, I quickly slipped on some skinny jeans, a sequined silver tank top and jacket, and I headed to meet the girls. I was a little late and already had a few missed phone calls. When I walked into the diner, I found Nessa staring at her phone; our other friends were oblivious to what was going on. I slid in next to her and she gave me the mobile. She had just received a text from our teacher explaining that she no longer had to attend tutoring, because he was going to give her a passing mark. I should have demanded a credit or higher.
Vanessa’s parents were the kind who expected her excellence in every subject and Mr. Hopwood knew this, so naturally, when he failed her in Human Development, they rang up for extra tutoring. Unfortunately, Mr. Hopwood thought the best way to teach Human Development would be to show her. I wanted to rip his head off. He never took her virginity, at least, but did other things that were very inappropriate for a man in his position.
Throwing the question out there, as we are all single, I asked, “So, what’s the plan for tonight, ladies?”
Corrina was eyeing a guy from school at the counter and without removing her eyes she replied, “Mark is having a party tonight, so we could all go there.”
This guy was staring at her, too, but not her face. He eyeballed her mid region; teasingly, Corrina leaned forward to reveal her killer cleavage. Complete with her chocolaty rich hair and accentuated curves, she could have passed for a Playboy bunny. She was literally that hot. The down side to looking like this was that Corrina could wear t
he most elegant of dresses and it didn’t have the effect that the dress should have. Without even realizing it, Corrina added a touch of skank to every outfit, yet did it with surprising flair. Don’t get me wrong, she never looked like a slut—she just had her own special touch to everything she wore.
“Mmm, sounds like a good idea—lots of guys, booze, and dancing—I’m in,” said Casey.
If ever there was anything that involved boys, then Casey was there.
Six foot five Casey was like Corrina’s sidekick; they went everywhere together. Corrina thought it was her mission to educate Casey in the world of boys and how to get them to pander to your every desire. At times, I had seen Casey look at herself, then look at Corrina then return to her own reflection and shake her head. She had no idea that she was every bit as beautiful as her best friend. She just lacked the self-confidence. Casey was Corrina’s clone, but was slowly discovering her own self. I recognized these signs. To hell with trying to be someone you’re not; no one gives you any extra credit for it.
I looked at Nessa, putting the ball in her court. If she wanted to go, we would go; if she wanted to stay at home, we would. I could see her really thinking about it. I knew she wanted to go, but she was still a little uneasy.
“Brandon is going, he still likes you,” pressured Corrina.
I knew that Nessa was unsure about going to the party, and the indecision plaguing her face was evidence of that. She played with the idea for a few minutes. She had liked Brandon a few months ago, but decided to stay away from him when the stuff with our teacher started to happen. A small smile came across her face, for the first time in quite awhile; it was genuine and not forced for other people’s enjoyment.
“Okay, I will go. And just so you know, I’m not going just because he’s going, “said Nessa.
The parties around here don’t normally kick off ‘til around midnight, so we had some time to waste. We headed back to my house, which I was sharing with the other angel, Israfel, even though he wasn’t there at the moment. This time around, he was pretending to be my brother and my legal guardian. I didn’t care for rules much and needed that official person in the picture somewhere. He’s been away for quite some time, which leads me to believe he may have found Sariel.
When we got to my house, we made a few cocktails and mingled in my room with the music up loud. Corrina and Casey were raiding my wardrobe for something to wear. They all envied my clothes. I had clothing from nearly every era, and at the moment, a lot of my older pieces were coming back into fashion.
“Wow, this dress is exactly like the one the French models were wearing during Fashion Week last spring. Which knockoff shop did you buy it from?”
Hiding my cringe remarkably well, “I got that from Tempt,” I blurted out.
That shop was only one town over and carried casual and formal wear, so at least it was believable.
“I wonder if they have any more?” said Corrina.
I doubt she would find that dress anywhere, as it was the original, which was displayed a year ago. I bought it as soon as we all watched the show and paid the designer handsomely to never reproduce the dress. Corrina placed the dress back into my wardrobe.
“Okay, girls, I’m feeling nice today; anything in the first two rows you can borrow for tonight, but I want them back.”
Squeals and giggling followed, and over fifty pieces of clothing ended up on my bed. An hour later, we were all tipsy and headed over to Mark’s. He lived only a few blocks away, so we walked over.
The party was pumping with excitement; everyone from school was there, all the latest music was blasting from the stereo, and the bodies on the makeshift dance floor were moving as one, thrusting hands in the air and screaming out lyrics. The kitchen was littered with bottles of various beers and spirits. The familiar Jell-O shots sat on a bench. These were Mark’s specialty—a few of these and you were bouncing off the walls. Mark was notorious for throwing these kinds of parties—his family was always with his sister. He had never said anything, so no one knew why, but they weren’t ever around.
Not more than one minute after being in the kitchen, a familiar arm slung itself around my shoulder. Connor was one of our guy mates who hung out in our little group; he squeezed his arm around me tighter and slurred his speech.
“Where have you chicks been? Everyone has been asking.”
Before I could reply, Corrina beat me to it, “Our time is precious, you know.” Everyone laughed as Brandon walked over and bowed in Corrina’s direction.
“Well, we’re honored that you have graced us with your presence.”
Nessa was standing next to me, beaming at his arrival, but I could see anxiety under her shyness. Turning toward her, he extended his hand to her. She looked at me, I nodded, and then she took his and disappeared into the crowd. Nessa had warned me before the party that she was still upset about the whole teacher thing, so I figured I would let them have a few dances then make some excuse to separate them.
“So Indy, Matthew mentioned in passing if I thought you would go on a date with him. I’m accurate in saying no, right?”said Connor
“Yes, you’re right, I’m not …”
She cut me off before I finished my sentence, “… Not interested in dating school boys.”
“Correct.”
That was a rule I had created many years ago. Many boys my age were just too immature, and I didn’t have the patience to handle the crap they pulled. I actually hadn’t had a boyfriend in a few hundred years. The reason I had become a fallen was still torturing me. I was a virgin in this human form, and could not get over my foolish decisions as an angel to trust a man enough to take my innocence in that way.
The man or “thing,” as I would prefer to call it, was called a champ after we had sex. I was a heavenly angel tricked into believing a wonderful mortal man had fallen in love with me. The reality was he was one of Satan’s imps who I had stumbled upon. He had played me from the start, promising love. He was given a promotion, and I was struck down, destined to be in this body forever. It repulsed me that I had been that naïve.
Connor found the attention of a young brunette and wandered after her. Observing the party, I noticed that it was becoming clearer that the senior class was pairing off.
Everyone had a potential beau except me; this didn’t bother me because teens changed their partners as often as they changed their underwear. The drama associated with being a teen was mostly avoided for me if I didn’t date. All I had to worry about was going to school and doing my investigation on the side.
Filling up my next glass of cheap beer, I walked into the crowd of bodies, letting the rhythm of the music enter my mind and compel my body to glide my limbs through the air. The intoxicating sensation of the music hijacked my soul, letting it speak through sleek flowing movements. I always had a love for music and having Israfel, who was the Angel of Music, in my life for so long has only amplified this love.
Stumbling home in the early hours, I was much more aware of our surroundings than the other girls. Corrina was holding up Casey, but if she just took off her ridiculously high shoes that she clearly could not walk in, then I’m sure she would have managed fine. We reached my house in double the amount of time that it should have taken us.
I was glad to have already sorted out sleeping arrangements, because we all went our own ways and fell into bed as soon as we stepped inside my house. The alcohol ensured that I fell asleep straight away.
The next morning I woke from a burning thirst. I needed some kind of drink to dampen my mouth, and more than ever, I wished I would have taken a jug of water to bed, so I didn’t have to worry about getting up.
As I entered my kitchen, I sensed another angel presence in my house; Israfel must be home. I found him in his typical hole where he was deep in thought. His eyebrows were creased, and he was mumbling under his breath. He was pissed to the max. Anger was not a good look on him—he looked a little funny. Israfel was one of the most handsome angels.
He often had a look of pure vulnerability to him, so any emotion apart from love or joy didn’t suit him.
“What did you do?” I asked.
He ignored my question and continued in his attempt at cleaning out the pantry and turned his back to me.
“Did you find her?“ I asked.
He continued to pretend I wasn’t around so I walked up to him and forced him to look at me. It was worse than I thought; he looked like a total mess. He sagged against the shelves, letting them hold him up.
“Tell me what happened,” I pressured.
After a long catch up, I found out that Israfel was now calling himself AJ (in his attempt to fit into mainstream society) and had finally found the love of his life. The problem, though, was because she wanted nothing to do with him. Well, kind of …
This was the love story of the millennium; these two angels had fallen madly in love while in Heaven and were separated as punishment. AJ was banished from Heaven first and wandered the world waiting for his angel lover. Sariel, the Angel of Healing, or Nardia, as she was known on Earth, had been cast down roughly a half century after AJ had fallen. When he discovered she was no longer in Heaven he started searching for her. When he found her, she had been stripped of her memories and was living an extremely long life unsure of why she had never aged.
Heavenly Hell (Heavenly Hell Book 1) Page 1