Damned if I do (the Damned Trilogy Book 1)

by Elizabeth Stevens

  “Truman,” I snapped. “Go.”

  Truman trotted over to her and took her hand. “Come, ma’am. Let’s get you all sorted out.”

  There were tears in Wren’s eyes, but her face was set in a fierce anger. I didn’t blame her. I wanted more time with her. But it was better this way. This way gave her a chance to live a life. A life I could never give her no matter how much I wanted to.

  Even though I loved her, I had to let her go back. Though, perhaps it was because I loved her.

  I gave Wren nothing in response. I couldn’t afford to.

  Finally, with a look of hatred shot at my father, she let Truman lead her out. Ignacio managed to pry Kyle off her legs, but he went running after her and demanded to hold her other hand.

  The doors crashed shut behind them with the epic boom of finality.

  “Well, that took longer than I expected,” Dad said, trotting over to his planning table and picking up a piece, apparently wondering where to put it back. “I commend her restraint. That girl put up a Heaven of a fight. Shame she can’t stay.”

  I glared at him. “You got what you wanted.”

  He looked at me. “Did I really, though?”

  “You wanted me married. I’m married. What more did you want?”

  Dad crossed his arms. “You know what, Drake. If you don’t know the answer to that, you can go and spend the rest of eternity thinking about it. You’re not too old for a timeout!”

  I growled in frustration. “I am definitely too old for a timeout. You want to try it? I’ll–”

  Dad grew about three times his usual size. It was all flame and anger and horns. “Do not test me, son.” His voice was low and gravelly and echoed around the room, and even the guard demons ran in terror. He shrunk back to his normal self, in a suit this time, and brushed his hair back into place. “Now look at what you made me do. I’ve gone and lost my temper.”

  I wanted to show him what a loss of temper really looked like. I wanted to try out my own rage-monster and feel the gratification of scaring every creature in creation. I needed to feel powerful, to combat some of the weakness I’d felt as soon as Wren had walked out of the room.

  Dad was smirking at me knowingly. He knew what was going through my head. He knew what I was feeling. He knew what I was thinking. He knew it all. They called Grandad omniscient? He’d passed more than a little of that on. Especially when it came to sins. And I was feeling pretty much every one of them.

  My father was waiting for me to do something. He was waiting to see what I’d end up choosing. He had an idea of what my reaction would be, but he was looking forward to whatever the actual result.

  The result was I screamed at him and stormed out of his throne room.

  I needed to clear my head. I needed pain. I needed focus.

  I barrelled my way through Hell, woe to any creature I came across, lost in my thoughts and mental anguish.

  I’d done the right thing. I’d done what was best for Wren and saved the consequences for me.

  So why did it feel so wrong?

  A guard demon stepped in front of me, holding his pike in the most unthreatening manner I think I’d ever seen.

  “Uh…” He cleared his throat. “His devilness would be quite pleased if you could restrict your tantrum to the zones currently experiencing downtime and to please stop getting in the way of the smooth running of the whole operation. Souls like to be tortured in peace, you know.”

  I heard my father’s voice in the message. Which wasn’t surprising, guard demons were very good at remembering messages in the short-term and would basically recite them verbatim to the intended recipient.

  “You can tell my father to go fuck him–”

  “I suspect he’s tried that one out already,” came a voice.

  I turned to Cadriel. Just the angel I needed.

  “Did Daddy send you to put me down?” I sneered.

  “Daddy thought you needed a healthy outlet for your frustrations now that that pretty little human won’t–”

  I crashed into him and sent us both falling. His wings erupted and he propelled us upwards.

  “Thank you, sir!” the guard demon called.

  “You don’t talk about her,” I told Cadriel as we circled each other mid-flight.

  “Me? I wasn’t talking about anyone.”

  The Grigori? They got to lie. The benefits of being Fallen.

  My father, while cast out of Heaven, was never spurned by Grandad. That was a big difference. Dad was just in creation’s longest timeout while Grandad used him to do all the less-savoury jobs in the afterlife.

  I envied the Grigori their silver tongues and their lack of emotion.

  “Had I been talking about anyone, I might have wondered how such a pretty little human is going to survive on Earth now.”

  He was goading me and I was more than happy to let him.

  We fought. One of our most vicious in all of history.

  Cadriel’s favoured weapon was the double-handed axe. It stood easily as tall as him, the head reaching at least half his wingspan. And he twirled it like it was plastic straw. To us, it was. We had the might of Grandad behind us, built into our very fabric so finely that even he couldn’t unravel it.

  And still I let too many blows hit me.

  Hit was a generous word for the damage he dealt.

  Every swing of Cadriel’s axe crashed into me with the force of a ten-tonne truck. Every time a blade touched me, it rent my flesh almost to the bone. Normally, my healing process wasn’t quite so quick, but I was going what the Grigori called supernova.

  Nephilim are inherently more powerful than angels – we’re a combination of Dad’s favourite sons and each part makes us stronger. This wasn’t news. But every now and then, a Nephilim went supernova. Some emotion riled them up to the point there was too much power in them for their bodies to contain. It had to come out other ways. Accelerated healing. Heightened speed and senses. More strength.

  This worked in my favour twofold.

  While my wounds healed almost as quickly as Cadriel could deal them, I felt each one tenfold. And each one settled me. It would be a stretch to call the raging storm calmed. But the intensity of my impulsive anger was dulled a little.

  “Are you so worried about the pretty little human that you’d let her send you supernova?” Cadriel provoked.

  My head was on just straight enough to answer him. “She’ll be fine. The boys went with her. Each one of them would die for her.”

  “And if Azazel sends one of his errand boys to kill the Nephilim bastard’s wife?” Cadriel asked, all nonchalance.

  I hadn’t thought of that. The suggestion took me off guard and, while I took that in – with the added imagery of Azazel himself running her through playing out in my mind – he punched me full force in the gut.

  Cadriel grabbed me to keep me from falling as I choked for breath and whispered almost reverently in my ear, “Even Ignacio can’t stand up against one of those Fallen bastards.”

  I pushed him away forcefully. “If I go up there, she’d be more of a target.”

  “Didn’t stop you the first time.”

  “We weren’t technically married the first time.”

  “You know Azazel’s determined to kill you. You’re Lucifer’s last.”

  “He knows what my father would do to him.”

  Cadriel nodded. “So, next best thing. He can’t rip your heart out literally, he’ll do it figuratively.”

  “Have I been going too easy on you today?” I growled, feeling my anger start to grow restless again.

  Cadriel grinned. “I could protect her.”

  “Oh, no.” I pointed at him. “I know what you’re like. Humans are like catnip to Grigori. You don’t go near her.”

  “You’d risk her life rather than have me protect her?”

  I twirled my sword in my hand. “She’ll be fine.” I had to believe it. “They’d have to fi
nd her first.”

  “I always said Lucifer’s bastard son was incapable of love.”

  I roared in anger. My wings burst forth, driving me into him. I slammed him against the wall, my sword buried deep in his stomach.

  “Tainted,” Cadriel taunted me.

  I twisted the sword and he laughed as he grimaced in pain.

  “You keep goading me and my father will think you have less than my safety in mind,” I told him.

  Blood burbled out of his mouth as he grinned. “Perhaps my reminding you of your destiny is having your safety in mind?” he spat. “Whether the Fallen kill her, whether the potestas get to her first, she’ll still die, Morningstar. She’s mortal.”

  I didn’t want to hear it, but it was true.

  We were all slaves to our destiny no matter what path we took or where we ended up.

  Damned slaves.

  We were damned if we did, and still damned if we didn’t.

  Wren

  Going back to a human life was difficult. It wasn’t just feeling like a piece of myself was missing. It wasn’t just the relative coldness. It wasn’t just the fact that I was surrounded by the mundane again. It was also the boys.

  The presence of Truman, Ignacio and Kyle gave me equal amounts of solace and sadness. And they knew it. Truman kept most of his more sardonic comments to himself. Kyle fixed himself by my side as often as he could. And Ignacio had taken to scouting for every and any threat I might face on a daily basis. This led to more than one accident.

  The blender had been replaced twice already because I’d managed to let it explode in my face and Ignacio wasn’t going to let some mechanical beast vomit its guts on me.

  Mrs Finster’s cat had dared to hiss at me as I walked inside one afternoon and Ignacio had scared it so badly it had run too quickly inside and broken its own leg.

  He’d bitten clean through the pipe of the vacuum cleaner because I somehow vacuumed up my own earring.

  My computer was running too slowly for my fragile mood and I’d whacked it in annoyance so Ignacio threw it out the window.

  He’d taken an interesting liking to Dad and could occasionally be distracted by following him around the house. Dad had taken a couple of days to get used to this behaviour, but actually quite enjoyed having a devilbum shadow after a week.

  Kyle was besotted with Harmony. He was always agitated when I took too long to get ready for school, wanting to go downstairs and watch out the window for her car. And could always be found at the window when I walked in the front door.

  When he wasn’t on Harmony-watch, he was busy investigating – and tasting – everything Earth had to offer. His favourite discovery was Whizz Fizz sherbet. Anytime he ate it, it made his ears flap and his eyes blink rapidly while his tongue stuck out and he made a little high-pitched whining noise.

  In between those two strenuous pastimes, he could be found with his nose pressed against the TV as he tried to lick whatever was on it. He particularly liked the ABC kid’s shows with the songs and the colours. As he went about whatever else he was getting up to, he almost always sang one of those songs.

  Truman was…Truman. As the most level-headed of the three of them, he appointed himself my ‘out of the house’ guardian. He could apparently appear invisible to whoever he wanted, so he came to school with me, following me around with his stately trot in complete silence.

  Harmony had been surprised, to say the least, when I arrived back home with three devilbums and claiming I was married to Lucifer’s son.

  “Hang on,” she’d said, shaking her head as Kyle batted her hip to get her attention. “Try that on me one more time.”

  “I…” Grunting in frustration, I pulled the photo off my bed where it had fallen. I showed it to her and she shrugged.

  “Huh?”

  I sighed. “Hot guy next door?”

  “Yum. Remember him.”

  “That was Drake.” I held the picture up again and she looked between us in confusion.

  I saw the moment the lightbulb went off. “Oh. Oh!” she breathed. “As in, Drake?”

  I nodded. “He came to collect me as his wife, to Hell.”

  Harmony pointed at Kyle. “I’m finding it hard to think you’re crazy at this point.”

  “Kyle’s…enthusiastic.” I waved that away. “No. Look, I was gone two days here. But it was over a month there. Over a month.”

  “Of being stuck in Hell with Super Hotty.” Harmony’s eyebrows waggled cheekily. “Huh? Huh?”

  I couldn’t stop my smile.

  She pointed at me with a victorious smile. “Oh, my God. I knew it! He’s amazing, isn’t he?”

  I bit my lip as I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Yeah,” she giggled and I joined her.

  Then I was batting her. “Not the point!”

  “Why? Was he a bit wet?”

  “He wasn’t the wet one–”

  “Oh, hello!”

  I snorted. “Stop distracting me!”

  She shrugged as she took the flower Kyle had brought her. “You fell in love with him.”

  “What?”

  “What?”

  “I–”

  “Fell in love with the devil’s son. So, what?”

  I blinked. “I did not fall in love with the… I’m too young to be in love, let alone married!”

  “Sounds like you’re not when you’re stuck in a timeless sauna,” she sang.

  “Can you–?”

  “Not let you deny it? Yup.”

  “Harm! I’m barely eighteen.”

  “And yet you’re married. Ugh. And I missed both weddings. Although, I’m kind of glad I wasn’t at the second. Did it even count as a wedding, really? When are you going back?”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “When are you going back to him? Or is he coming here?” She’d looked at me in total excitement. “Are we going to have a proper wedding? Am I going to be a bridesmaid? Of course, I am. Can I wear flats, though?”

  She wasn’t the only one who seemed to think I was irrevocably in love with Drake. Neither was she the only who seemed to have it in her head that either I was going back to Hell or Drake was coming to Earth. And everyone seemed to think another wedding was in order!

  “Are you sure it’s over, dear?” Mum asked while stirring dinner a full ten days after I’d come home.

  I sighed. “Yes.”

  “What a shame.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Oh, you’ve only been a beacon of joy since you got back,” Tilly said sarcastically, leaning on the kitchen bench.

  Mum nodded. “Well, yes. She’s sad. But–”

  “But what?” I asked.

  “Well, I was just thinking… We could have had a proper wedding. If it wasn’t over.”

  “A proper wedding?” Tilly exclaimed. I couldn’t tell if she thought it was a great idea or a terrible idea.

  Mum nodded again. “Traditional. Church. White dress. All our family and friends. It would have been lovely.”

  “Can they even enter a church?” Tilly mused as I said, “Mum, I’m barely eighteen!”

  Why did I have to keep reminding people?

  “Eighteen or eighty,” Mum chided. “You’re in love with him.”

  “How do you know I won’t grow out of it? Or that he made me fall in love with him?”

  “Because we didn’t raise you to go losing your head, magical powers or not.” She looked me over meaningfully and I rose my eyebrow in question.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I didn’t notice you denying it.”

  “So?” I was on the defensive.

  “So, what use has Drake got to make you in love with him now? If it wasn’t real, would you still feel it?”

  Well, I knew it was real. But, how did they?

  “Are you really the most upset about not having a real wedding?” Tilly asked, leaning her chin in her hands.

&nbs
p; Mum smiled softly. “A parents’ truest dream is to see their children happy. If that can include a wedding, then all the better.”

  “What if I don’t want to get married?” my sister challenged.

  Mum’s smile grew more rueful. “Then you’ll have broken your mother’s heart,” she joked.

  “Would a real wedding really mean that much?” I asked.

  I was thinking about that. I was thinking about doing the whole big wedding thing. Me in a white dress. Drake waiting for me at the end of the aisle. A minister. A church full of family and friends and Lucifer and hellspawn. I wasn’t quite sure how it would work. I doubted it could work. But there was a small part of me that didn’t want to take the possibility off the board.

  Mum looked at me. “Think of what Mrs Finster will say if she found out my Serenity was marrying the devil’s son.” It was meant in jest to break my dismal mood, but it had the opposite effect.

  I didn’t want her to see that though, so I smiled. “She’d have gossip for years.”

  “And green as a cucumber with jealousy,” Mum chuckled.

  I nodded. “I’m just going to…” I pointed behind me with no real intention or desire to be anywhere other than not there anymore.

  Well, that wasn’t strictly true.

  There was only one place I really wanted to be.

  I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t live a human life anymore. I couldn’t leave it all totally behind, but life without Drake was Hell on Earth. And if I was living in Hell, then I may as well actually be in Hell with the man I loved. My head had spent enough time arguing I was too young to be in love, let alone a wife, but I was done listening. No one else had been anyway and my heart told me otherwise. It was time to follow it, even to Hell.

  “Truman?” I asked as I jogged into my room.

  Truman was folding my laundry. Kyle was dressed in my old Belle costume – I guess I’d always had a thing for falling in love with moody kidnappers – and having a tea party with my old teddy bears. For some reason, I hadn’t been able to look at them the same since I’d got back and was more than happy for him to have them. And Ignacio was glaring out the window like he was on the lookout for threats, which was sweet in his own way.

  “Yes, ma’am?”