Faith (Soul Savers Book 7)

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Faith (Soul Savers Book 7) Page 3

by Kristie Cook


  “Alexis Katerina,” his voice boomed, “you are correct.”

  His hand came toward me, his sword barely missing my face as his fist shoved into my chest.

  “You do not belong here!”

  His voice echoed in my ears and brain as I began to fall.

  Away from him. Away from my mom and Rina and Cassandra. Away from Heaven’s Gates.

  “I know,” I whispered, and the feeling of falling changed into the sensation of being swept away and pulled downward.

  I didn’t fight the tug. I didn’t try to use these wings on my back that maybe could have provided a means of escape. I knew very well I didn’t belong in Heaven or anywhere near it.

  After passing through heavier white fog, the Earthly realm surrounded me with its dirty air and the pungent odor of life being torched. My wings broke and bent, extracting a scream as I fell into my body, but I didn’t stop there. I was dragged through it, instead. I stared into Tristan’s face, his eyes closed and his head lolled to the side as he still held me pressed against his body. I lifted my arms and tried to reach out for him, to touch him, to hold on to him or on to my corporeal self or on to something in the real world, but my hands only grasped at air as I passed through.

  And I continued traveling down, down, down.

  Heat blasted at me from below. Then fire surrounded me, hot and searing, singeing my broken wings. I screamed again as my skin blistered and bubbled, the sweltering air filling my lungs and suffocating me, the flames consuming me. But I didn’t actually burn into ash. No, that would bring relief, and, it appeared, I would never have relief again. I’d live in the fire for eternity.

  Except I didn’t stop in the fire, either. Whatever dragged me maintained my downward descent, through the fire, and below it, into a cold so deep, my bones froze immediately and ice crystals hung in the air as I continued exhaling the same breath I’d started with in Heaven.

  And still, my fall through Hell continued, making me wonder how many levels existed and just how far down I’d go. Probably to the bottom.

  Perhaps, after all the deaths I’d caused, the lowest bowel of Hell was exactly where I belonged.

  Just as I began to think that falling for eternity would be my Hell, I slammed into a hard floor, shattering my frozen bones. The cracks and snaps echoed in the air, and excruciating pain devoured me. Although I had no idea how I felt anything physical when my body remained in the Earthly realm, at least pain made sense here in the deepest, darkest pits of Hell.

  Forever and a day seemed to pass as I simply lay there, on my side, my cheek pressed against a floor of solid obsidian ice that stretched out as far as I could see. I stared ahead into a darkness so black, I had no idea where it began or ended. The cold eventually went away, though the ice did not. My pain subsided as well, and I pushed myself halfway up, bracing myself on my hand.

  Nothing surrounded me. Nothing to see. Nothing to smell. Nothing to feel, hear, or taste. Absolutely nothing.

  And a very different nothing compared to the white, empty space of Heaven’s lobby. There I could see those who presented themselves and the movement of the white fog. I could smell and taste the clean, crisp air, and feel tears on my skin. If anyone stood before me now, they could be a centimeter from my face and I wouldn’t know it. They could be breathing on me, and I couldn’t feel it or smell their exhale.

  This was a true void.

  And apparently my Hell. This was how I’d spend my eternity—what the powers-that-be must have deemed as my punishment. I didn’t find it surprising that my Hell would be one of nothingness. One that lacked any sense of touch, sight, smell, taste, and sound. After all, a warrior relies on all of her senses, as does an author. I’d used them to create beauty and to destroy it. Now I’d forget what it was ever like to watch a sunset on the beach while inhaling the sweet scent of my love or to feel the softness of my son’s cheek. I’d never again hear either of them say “I love you” and even the echoes of previous times would fade.

  “I hate you!” I yelled at said powers-that-be, my voice falling flat almost as soon as the words left my mouth. But I spewed more, hatred filling me. “You were as much at fault as I was. You were supposed to help me, but You abandoned me! And You allowed it all to happen! It was Your will! Now You’ve sent me here?”

  My passion, my vehemence, my ability to care anymore slowly died away with everything else.

  I do belong here.

  Acceptance of this fate had come, and much easier than accepting any place in Heaven. I crossed my legs, pulled the remnants of my broken, charred wings around me, and sat on the hard, black ice. Immediately, the deafening silence filled my ears, the blankness in front of me pressed on my eyes, and the lack of feeling made my muscles twitch as though my body checked to make sure everything was still there. The pressure of the void compressed my head, and my brain felt as though it would be crushed like a watermelon in a vise. Yet, it never would give, but forever and always would linger right at the point just before implosion.

  Without sensory input, I went mad.

  And it didn’t take long. Or maybe it had. Loss of all senses also meant loss of the concept of time. Although I’d arrived here with my memories and my imagination, they dissolved into the nothingness surrounding me, my mind becoming just as blank and dark.

  I screamed only to hear the sound of my own voice because at least it was something, but the sound was swallowed by the void. I dug my fingernails into the flesh of my arms to feel pain because at least it was something, but it dulled quickly and my skin grew numb. My tears tasted like nothing, and then they stopped falling. My whole being seemed to teeter on the brink of nonexistence, but never fell over the edge.

  And then the voices started. The screaming in my head. The images that came along, too. Apparently, I hadn’t lost all memories. My soul hung on to the worst ones, the nightmares, the pain and grief others had suffered because of me. I relived every death I’d caused, from the werewolf I’d killed in Hades to those who’d died in the bombs on the fateful night that ended the world. If that wasn’t enough, the voices of Hell’s burning souls cried out for me, too. They filled every passing moment with grief and despair—thousands of needles tattooing their agony onto my heart and coals raking across my soul. I begged and pleaded for the nothingness to return.

  “If you wanted mercy, you should have stayed in Heaven,” a loud, gravelly voice thundered around me, and the sound made me jump at first, but then it sent chills over my skin and down my spine. The malevolent feeling went all the way to my soul, and I knew instantly this wasn’t an everyday Demon with a sarcastic tongue.

  Satan himself had spoken to me.

  Chapter 2

  “Please. Call me Lucifer.” The voice came as less of a boom this time. A flash of light and color—red or orange maybe, but too quick to be certain—flickered off to my right. My head automatically snapped that way, but it was gone before I could be sure I even saw it. “Satan, Abaddon, Apollyon, Beelzebub, Leviathan, Devil … The list of names I’ve been known by goes on, some more terrifying than others.” Another flash, like an orange spark of fire, this time to my left, and my head whiplashed that way, but only pitch blackness remained. Like the sound of boulders falling but ending with a hiss, his words carried across it. “Lucifer, however, sounds the most civilized and refined, does it not? Less frightening? After all, it was the name my Father gave me.”

  The blackness separated for a longer moment now, exposing a massive, muscular shoulder, arm, and part of a torso with red and orange marbled skin. The body moved just enough for me to catch a glimpse of a head with horns that curved back and out to the sides and eyes that glowed a greenish-yellow. Then solid blackness fell once again.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” he continued, his voice circling and surrounding me at the same time, making it impossible to know where he was. “Terrorizing souls brings me a great thrill, and the names Satan and the Devil evoke so much fear. Ah, the smell of such dread! Like a ripe, wet pu
ssy. It makes my cock so fucking hard.”

  Another glimpse—one that made me recoil. A clawed hand with the same dappled skin and curling black nails stroked an enormous red and black penis directly in front of me. I jerked back as bile launched into my throat, and instinctively shot a bolt of electricity at him. A shudder racked through him as he thrust hard into his palm before disappearing.

  “Oh, yessss! You know how I like it,” he said with an extra helping of joy, and laughter crackled around me.

  I shivered with revulsion. It probably wasn’t even real. He probably only wished he was that big—that he even had a penis. His laughter died down, followed by heavy breaths. Whether or not it was real, he was certainly getting off on himself as he mind-fucked me. Heh. Disgusting. But could I expect any better from Satan, the king of all things sinful, including lust and depravity?

  “I apologize, Alexis. Sometimes I cannot help myself, especially with an Amadis daughter in my presence. Ahhh. I’ve been waiting for this day and began to wonder if any of them would have the intelligence to see that my way is best. I had nearly given up hope, but then you came along. Fiercely protective of all the wrong things—according to them, anyway. I, however, appreciate your selfishness—” he groaned and grunted “—your passion to protect your own interests—” a lustful sigh “—and your willingness to kill as long as it serves your needs.” A sensual moan turned my stomach. “Yet you hold on to just enough of those repellent qualities of love, empathy, and generosity that the thought of breaking you makes me want to come. Almost there,” he groaned. “Yessss. You’re so sssssweet and tantalizing. Deliciousssss.”

  As though his tongue had actually slid up the side of my face, the serpentine hiss made me shudder, and the gurgling noise of release that followed made my stomach lurch. He fell quiet and dark for so long, I hoped he had left, but his presence was so heavy and commanding, I knew he was still somewhere nearby. Whether he expected me to say anything or not, I remained silent. Besides the fact that I had no desire to encourage him, I was afraid vomit would shoot out of my mouth if I so much as opened it. When he finally spoke again, his voice changed significantly.

  “Oh, dear,” he said, and now the longer he spoke, the less monstrous and more human he sounded. “I’m afraid I’ve gone and offended you. I am very sorry, Alexis. I’d so wanted to start off on the right foot.” A hoof and a leg shaped like an ox’s, but with the same skin tone as the rest of him, appeared briefly before hiding behind the blackness again. Deep laughter ensued. “Pardon my humor. Maybe this is better?”

  Before me, a bright light shone, and I had to blink and squint against the sudden brilliance in the thorough blackness. As my eyes adjusted, the full body of a striking man with white-blond hair and cerulean blue eyes, broad shoulders, and wearing a black suit with a thin, red tie came into focus, looking as though a spotlight illuminated him, but from within. Although his coloring was like Lucas’s, Victor’s, and, I assumed, other descendants of Jordan, their attractiveness paled in comparison. He was breathtakingly beautiful.

  But still a far cry from Tristan.

  The sound of a deep growl rumbled around me.

  “I was the most beautiful of them all,” Satan said, his voice a mesmerizing song that I wanted to ignore, but could not possibly. “Still am, in any of my forms, if you ask me.”

  The beautiful man disappeared, replaced by the horned beast with red and orange skin, glowing eyes, a tail with a barbed end, and huge wings with claws on their tips. Like hot coals, his skin lit up, glowing in the colors of flames, and I lifted my arm to shield my eyes from the glare, so much more intense than before. Darkness instantly surrounded me, but when I lowered my arm, the attractive man stood before me.

  “I will hold this form for you.” He sounded as though he were doing me a great favor. “I don’t particularly like it. It’s quite uncomfortable, but my comfort matters not. I’m more concerned about yours.”

  I dropped my arm completely, my hand landing in my lap, and stared at him. My throat felt thick and dry, but I managed to form together a few words, because now he made no sense.

  “You just said I’d receive no mercy here, but you’re concerned about my comfort?”

  “See there? It’s easier to speak to me when I’m like this, isn’t it? That is all I want. A conversation. And I am happy to make you comfortable enough for that.”

  I hesitated, knowing that by asking, I’d be entering into exactly what he wanted, and what Satan wanted was probably not a good thing for me to deliver. But bewildered and unable to help myself, I asked nonetheless. “A conversation? What on Earth about?”

  “No, not on Earth. In Hell.”

  I blinked. Was that supposed to be a joke? He had the oddest sense of humor. “Okay. What in Hell do you want to talk to me about?”

  “About this—your comforts, your needs and desires. I assume you don’t like my home as it is, do you? The ice and the cold? I always laugh when humans talk about Hell freezing over. Guess what? It already has!” He let out a deep laugh that sounded more like his beastly self than this gentleman-like version, and then he quieted as he stroked his chin. “You do know I could provide you with every creature comfort of the world you used to know … and more. Right?”

  A maroon, velvet-covered wingback chair suddenly appeared with him sitting in it, his legs crossed and a cigar between his perfectly shaped lips. The tip glowed as he puffed, and with long, elegant fingers, he flicked the ash into an ashtray that sat on a dark, polished wood table next to the chair. He flicked his hand, and a whole sitting room appeared with me propped on a cushy settee, beautiful paintings hanging on the luxuriously covered walls, and a fire crackling in the oversized hearth. A grand piano sat in the corner.

  “There’s a suite upstairs with your name on it, Alexis,” Satan said with the eyes of a lover. “A soft bed with the highest quality silk linens. A private bathroom with every essential you could need and more, including a hot, scented bubble bath. When was the last time you had a bath? Slept in a bed?”

  He puffed on his cigar again, as though waiting for my answer. I remained silent, not wanting to reveal how enticing a bath and bed sounded. I didn’t have to say anything, though. He already knew my selfish desires. A smile danced in his eyes as he exhaled smoke rings.

  “And I have so much else to give you beyond a bed and a bath,” he promised. “A castle, a claim on any part of that Earth that you want, or down here if you prefer, servants to grant your every wish. All the food you and twenty others could ever need. The freedom to do as you please, with no rules, standards, or expectations tying you down and limiting your potential.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knee. “You see, I don’t demand sacrifices or require that you deny yourself in any way. I want everyone to be happy, including you, Alexis. Especially you. I offer everything you could possibly want, as well as everything you don’t even know you desire.”

  “In exchange for what?” I dared to ask, only out of curiosity. Because I knew there had to be something. This was Satan, after all.

  He gave a sweltering grin that could easily seduce the panties off the most austere woman … or man. “Your soul, of course.”

  And there it was. At least he didn’t beat around the bush. I rolled my eyes. I may have accepted my fate to be here, but I wouldn’t simply hand my soul over to him. “I’d rather rot here in Hell.”

  The room disappeared, my butt hit the black ice, and I was surrounded once again by complete darkness. Utter nothingness. Except the screaming in my head. The images of those I’d killed played on a loop, their pain carving into my soul with the jagged edge of a dull blade. Then other faces, some I knew and most I didn’t recognize. They were lives I didn’t personally take, but my actions had led to their deaths, such as the children in the train car we’d abandoned in Moscow. Whether they actually died or not didn’t matter. I still felt the guilt. I watched everyone suffer and fall, over and over and over again. Their screams and wails filled my head, p
ushing out everything else, and I clutched at my skull, screaming along with them as an eternity passed.

  “Are you sure about that?” Satan asked, and the nightmarish images were gone, my head silent, the beautiful sitting room returned. “Your soul will become mine anyway, but in a way that is unnecessarily torturous for you.”

  “I deserve it,” I muttered, lowering my hands into my lap, my heart still pounding from the onslaught of horrific memories. “Into eternity.”

  He studied me with a peculiar look in his blue eyes. “I don’t think you realize just how long an eternity can be, child. You thought an eternity had just passed, but it had been mere minutes in your terms.” He cocked his head to the side and steepled his long fingers together, tapping the tips against each other. “You have no idea the gift I am offering and how rarely it is given. You said you don’t belong in Heaven, because deep down, you know you belong here with me. You can be my daughter. Be my princess. We can rule Hell and Earth, which is ready and waiting for me, together. You can be with your son.”

  My ears pricked. I narrowed my eyes.

  He lifted his chin, acknowledging my reaction as minute as it was. “You know deep in your heart and soul that he belongs with me, too.”

  “No, he doesn’t!”

  “Of course he does. Why fight it any longer? You can be together now. He can rule, too. Your husband, as well, by your side as always.”

  “Leave him out of this,” I seethed. Tristan’s soul was not a bargaining chip. Neither was my son’s, regardless of what he’d done. I would never stop fighting for him. “Leave them both out of this!”

  “Well, maybe you should tell them that. Dorian’s already made the first move, so it’s only a matter of time before his soul becomes mine. Would you like to see?” He waved his hand, and the heavy draperies on the window parted, showing not a landscape outside, but the interior of a dark and dirty apartment. “Oh, yes, I can see into the Earthly realm, just like you can elsewhere in the Otherworld.”

 

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