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Welcome to Hell Box Set: Paranormal Romantic Comedy Page 18

by Demelza Carlton


  "Is it a gift voucher for the sex shop on Murray Street?" Ana asked loudly.

  "No. Much better than that. It's a beautiful pen," Mel said, holding up the gold writing implement so the light caught it.

  "We had your name engraved on it, too," Merih murmured, pointing at the three letters that spelled out her name, to her relief.

  Her tears escaped. "Thank you so much."

  "SPEECH!" Nybbas bellowed.

  "I…I can't," Mel whispered as every demonic eye settled on her. Forcing herself not to run and hide, she tried to clear her throat to find her voice. If she closed her eyes, perhaps she could.

  "Thank you. Thank you so much. I hope…I only hope I helped."

  There was silence as the demons waited for more words – perhaps they wanted something like Luce's long speeches, but Mel had no more.

  Clapping started behind her and someone whistled. The room erupted in applause and Mel dared to open her eyes. It was over. Her time in HELL was over.

  It hadn't been so bad after all. Who'd have thought?

  Fifty-Three

  "Morning, Mel. I need your help. How do I…"

  "I swallowed a whole German sausage in front of him and he barely blinked! Every other man in the place offered me a job or a bed, but Luce locked me out of his room! What else do I have to do to…"

  "What do I do if…"

  "He said I have to wear a scarf over my head for the meeting. He said I can't go unless I cover up. How am I supposed to seduce him if the only skin I can show is my face without any makeup? Help me, Mel, I don't know how to…"

  "We had to drink this foul-tasting brown spirit that burned all the way down. I coughed so hard I lost my voice. What should I do tonight so I don't…"

  "We're meeting with the Treasury Minister in London tomorrow. I have all the documents prepared, just like you said. Do you really think I should open the meeting with…"

  Mel kept her voice calm and kept talking until she knew Persi had understood. "What you need to do is…"

  Every day. Sometimes two or three times a day. Constant phone calls, text messages and emails. Persi would panic and Mel was her panacea. Mel longed for the day that she was only a placebo, so she could wean the girl off her blind obedience. She needed so many instructions just to get through the day…

  Yet the girl was improving – and she was trying to look after Luce, too. Mel couldn't bring herself to turn a completely blind eye to Luce, even if she only saw him through Persi's panicked perception. Persi made sure he was always on time and immaculately dressed, that he ate and drank, and that his coffee was perfect. She vetted the restaurant menus and presented them to Mel until she learned what Luce liked to eat.

  Mel didn't how she'd have managed to do this on top of her daily drudgery at the office, and was doubly glad she didn't work for the HELL Corporation anymore.

  Day by day, she wondered when she'd receive Persi's resignation – when would the girl admit defeat? So many of her questions were about how to attract Luce – despite her repeated offers, Luce wouldn't sleep with the girl and he'd threatened to find a new PA if she crawled under the desk or into his bed again.

  Luce without lust – Mel couldn't help laughing at the very thought of it, for it was so hard to believe. The demon she knew would have happily taken any willing girl on his desk here in Perth – what had left him so impotent now?

  With every phone call, her understanding deepened and Mel wished again that she'd disregarded Raphael's advice and accepted Luce's offer. She'd be holding his soul in her hands by now, instead of having to talk Persi through even the simplest of negotiations. Or offering the girl advice on seducing a man she'd never slept with, and didn't intend to.

  Fifty-Four

  The front windows rattled ominously thanks to yet another strong gust of wind. Mel paid little attention to it – her windows had withstood sixty years of such storms and the glass was only a little loose in the frames. She was more worried that she'd lose power before the kettle boiled for her cup of tea. She'd developed quite a taste for her floral tisanes and she wanted her drink in hand when Persi called again.

  The rain pelting on the tin roof drowned out all other sound for a few minutes – she only knew the kettle was ready because the light had switched off. Dropping one of the tiny pyramid teabags into her cup, she tipped the kettle to pour her tea. The smell of jasmine steam made her smile as she closed her eyes, simply enjoying the scent. Even angels were allowed guilty pleasures such as this. She lifted the cup and took a small sip.

  The downpour desisted and Mel heard the rattling again – this time, both her windows and the front door. That was unusual – for a wind gust to swirl through her carport and reach the door, it would have to move around corners.

  "Mel!" she heard a voice sob. "You have to let me in. I don't know who else to turn to. Please help me!"

  The door shuddered in its frame as Mel realised it wasn't just the wind knocking at her door in the storm.

  "Please, Mel!"

  She sighed and set down her tea. No one should be out in such a storm – especially not someone who knew her name and address.

  She turned both locks and swung the front door open.

  "Oh, thank God. Please let me in, Mel. I'll do anything."

  She couldn't see his face in the carport shadows, but pity drove her not to care. She unlatched the screen door and swung it out into the darkness. "Come in. You must be soaked."

  He stumbled on the steps and she held out her hand to help him. His wet fingers closed gratefully over hers as he stepped over the threshold.

  Mel stood back to stare. It had been weeks since she'd last seen Luce and those weeks had not been kind to him. His suit sagged from his shoulders under the weight of water it held, the smell of wet wool overpowering the delicate scent of jasmine tea. His hair, plastered to his head, dripped down his face, highlighting the dark circles beneath his eyes. He folded his arms across his body, trying to stop the shivering. "Thank you," he said.

  "What happened?" she asked carefully. She suspected she knew, but that didn't explain how he was here, in her house.

  "She…that devil woman…took everything. Slowly at first and then…I had no control any more. Do you know she has a halo on her…on her…and she wanted me to…" His eyes widened in horror, yet the horrors could only be in his head.

  Mel noticed the puddle forming on her carpet at his feet. She touched a cautious hand to his back. "You should get out of those drenched clothes and into something warm and dry. How about you take a shower while I see if I have anything that might fit you." She guided him to the sunny yellow bathroom and closed the door.

  Pressing her lips together, she headed for the guest room, where she kept the clothes Raphael had left at her house – he could certainly spare them. Particularly if it was his fault there was a man in her house who needed them. With the weight Luce appeared to have lost, he'd have no trouble fitting into Raphael's clothes.

  She took a shirt, pants and a sweater to the bathroom, rapping on the timber door with her knuckles. "I have some clothes for you," she called. She couldn't hear the water running, so she cracked the door open a little and passed the pile of folded garments through the gap.

  Luce's hands covered Mel's briefly before he took her offering. "Thank you."

  Once her hands were empty, she quickly pulled the door closed. "Let me know if you need anything else. Use as much hot water as you like. The towels are clean – I brought them in from the line just before the storm hit." She waited for the hiss of the shower starting before she strode to her bedroom with grim purpose.

  Picking up her phone from the charger, she noticed a missed call from the one person she needed to speak to, timed to match the beginning of the downpour.

  The line rang twice before it was answered. "Hell—"

  Mel cut her off. "How goes your assignment?"

  Persi giggled. "Mission accomplished. I now have control of all his interests in the HELL Corporation."<
br />
  "At what cost?" Mel ground her teeth.

  "Almost nothing. It felt too easy, Mel. I barely had to do anything – I didn't even have to sleep with him in the end. It was like he just gave up."

  "What was his price?" Mel asked urgently.

  "Just your phone number and home address. Nothing!" Persi insisted. "He's powerless now, Mel. It's not like you have to answer, talk to him or even let him in. He doesn't matter any more."

  Mel thought of how the demons in the office had responded to Luce – like marionettes to a puppeteer. He could sign over everything in the world to Persi, but he was still the unchallenged master of Hell and all it contained. It was both his strength and his curse. "You're wrong. He does matter." Mel heard the water in the shower stop flowing. "Report to Raphael. Tell him your assignment is complete – earlier than expected, too. Convey my congratulations to you both on a job well done. I'll finish up here." She terminated the call, taking a deep breath to strengthen herself. She had a damp demon to deal with.

  Fifty-Five

  Mel settled onto the sofa, sipping her still-warm tea. She set a second, steaming cup on the coffee table for Luce.

  The floorboards outside the bathroom door creaked under his weight, drawing her eyes from the cup to her guest. Raphael's shirt was too big and the pants would have fallen off him if he didn't have a belt. He looked slightly less lost now.

  "You kept them," he said in wonder.

  "I did?" Mel asked, unsure.

  He nodded slowly. "The flowers. The orchids I…secretly bought you for Valentine's Day, but you knew, all the same. I thought you didn't like them. Yet…you took them home and cared for them. They look as perfect as they were in February. Surely those can't be the same flowers!"

  Mel smiled. "They are. They seem to like my bathroom. Perhaps it's the humidity." She took another sip of her tea so she could avoid his eyes. The intensity of his gaze was more than a little disconcerting.

  "It's you. You breathe the tiniest whisper of your vitality into everything around you and it's as if the whole world comes to life. Even I feel better and I'm…I'm…"

  Mel waited for Luce to finish his sentence, but he didn't seem able to. "Please, sit down. Have some tea."

  Luce nodded and accepted, inhaling deeply as he sank into an armchair. He slurped the hot liquid. "This is good," he said in surprise.

  Mel nodded, taking a deep draught of her own. After swallowing, she said, "I'd like you to tell me again what happened. Take as much time as you need and, please, don't hold back on details. You mentioned a devil woman with a halo?"

  Luce nodded, lowering his cup from his lips. "Your…cousin. The half-angel. Persephone. Oh God, she was my PA. The perfect assistant, just like you said she'd be. She kept my schedule so well I only had to ask her to know exactly where I should be. She knew it all. New York, Berlin, Singapore, Johannesburg, Dubai…she had my coffee in hand before I knew I needed it. Took the minutes, prepared all the documents…read them so she could brief me on the plane, or assist me in the meetings. Then London…she effortlessly took control of the negotiation. And when we got back to the hotel, we had adjoining hotel rooms and she left the door open. When I got out of the shower, she was naked on my bed. She spread her legs and…she has a…a…" Luce swallowed and looked horrified.

  "Halo tattoo?" she suggested, not needing a graphic description.

  "Y…yeah," he managed to say. "I took one look at her and I couldn't. You marked me, so I felt nothing for her. Nothing!"

  This was news to her. Mel tilted her head. "I marked you? When, and how?"

  The disconcerted demon blushed. "When you kissed me goodbye. An angel's kiss is redemption for us. You gave it willingly, without…and you wished me well! It took me a fortnight to figure it out – what you'd done to me with that one touch. While I was distracted, she just took more and more until, one day, she asked me to sign over everything to her. The company and everything I owned. So I did – if she'd tell me how to find you again."

  A redeemed demon? Could there be such a thing? Mel could think of only one thing that could cause such a transformation and it wasn't her farewell kiss. It might help explain his obvious ill-health, too. Not to mention why he'd been stroking pictures of her on his laptop in New York. Mel regarded him over the rim of her cup as she drank the remainder of her tea. Did the man know the source of the sickness in his soul? She'd never seen a soul at war with itself before.

  She kept her voice light as she said, "It was hardly a kiss. A peck on the cheek, perhaps. An angel's kiss usually annihilates your kind, or sends you back into the Pit. You were Persi's charge, not mine, and you seemed so happy to have her. Yet you left her and came here in the middle of a storm. Why?" Even as she tilted her head, she kept her eyes on him.

  Luce flashed a rueful smile. "I left so quickly, I barely noticed the storm start. I didn't want to turn back and return to her. I just wanted to find you." He held out his hand. "Here, let me get you another cup of tea."

  Mel surrendered her empty mug and watched him carry both his and hers to the kitchen. She'd left the box of tea on the counter, so he didn't have to hunt for it. Ten minutes later, he returned, carrying two steaming cups.

  She inclined her head in thanks as she accepted her drink, setting it on the table to cool. "Give me your hand. I want to see this for myself."

  Luce swallowed, almost choking on his tea. "You want to see my soul? Why?"

  "I want to understand better. I have seen it all before, Luce," Mel replied, trying not to laugh. "Yes, even yours. Remember? In front of the swans on the foreshore, before you told dirty jokes to try and make me blush."

  "You didn't blush. The other angel did. You laughed." Luce looked at her, as if conducting some form of assessment. He came to a decision and held out both shaking hands, palms up. Mel took them. She drew a deep breath and looked into his eyes for a long time. "Your eyes are still just as beautiful," he murmured, but Mel shushed him.

  The war was over – but which side had won? Mel wondered. Oh, my…

  She released his hands first; shaking her head when she was done reading his soul. "I don't understand. How can the shadow on your soul be simply…gone? Changed, somehow. It looks almost as clean as an angel's. How can you be the demon who tried to seduce me in the boardroom, your office, the work Christmas party…how can you change this much?"

  He grinned. "I told you, you marked me. And you're partly right. I'm not redeemed yet – not completely, anyway. I'm toying with the idea of pinning you to the couch, ripping your clothes off and having my wicked way with you. I still might."

  Decisively un-demon-like, Mel mused. A normal demon, like the Luce she knew, would have seduced her out of her clothes and waited for her to ask (or beg) for him. Demons didn't do rape – their aim was to damn the soul they seduced. Luce sounded more like a lusty human than a demon – and he didn't seem to realise it. Her suspicions swirled, coalescing into very curious thought-clouds.

  Mel took up her cup again. "You could try, but you're no match for me, if you ever were. They entrusted you to Persi, but still you pursue me. Only me. Not Persephone." She watched as his grin faded in fear at her cousin's name. Inspiration struck. "You signed over everything to her, didn't you? Your kind are big on written contracts. You gave her the shadows from your soul as part of the contract. You sealing such a bargain…summoned the storm."

  He shrugged. "She can't wield my power without a bit of demon in her. I wasn't going to give her any other part of me. I gave it all up for you."

  Renouncing everything for her. Redemption. Mel gasped, setting her cup down before she dropped it as realisation exploded in her mind. Redemption might be possible for him, and she knew how. "But it's not enough. You may have given up everything, but if you're truly after redemption, you'll need something a little more powerful than a peck on the cheek to complete the transformation. Is that really what you want, Luce?"

  Luce clunked his cup on the table beside hers, sliding off the couch.
He dropped to his knees on the rug, his hands out in supplication. "Please, Mel. Help me. I'm begging you. Finish what you started. I can't enter your world, yet I'm no longer a part of mine. Send me back or take me with you. Make me whole again and I'll do anything you ask."

  Fifty-Six

  She stared down at the demon kneeling at her feet. She ached to help him, but to grant him the angel's kiss he asked for could hurt him more than she cared to. "I can't refuse to help you, but I don't know what will happen if I try. I might just banish you back to the Pit, where you'll stay for centuries until you can return."

  Luce winked. "I'm willing to take the risk for one kiss from you. I promise I'll be good. Do my best not to corrupt you. Believe me when I say I don't want you to fall, Mel. Your kindness in letting me enter your house, when I could harm you so easily…you're too trusting, but I owe you for that today. You'll make the best kind of angel, I know it. One day, I want to see how beautiful your wings will be."

  "One day – will be?" Mel laughed so hard it took her almost a minute before she could continue, "You think I'm a fresh-faced Grigori, or an angel-in-training like Persi, waiting to earn my wings, and one kiss can corrupt me. Oh Hell – I really thought you'd have realised by now. Your soul is in far more danger than mine could ever be. Luce, look at me. Love isn't my weakness, but my strength." She rose to her feet, feeling all pretence of humanity slip away as her wings unfurled. Feathers brushed both the floor and the ceiling as her soul's normally concealed glow lit up the room. "If you wish to be like me, you must rise with me." She saw her radiance reflected in his eyes and ruthlessly reined it in before she overwhelmed him, but she also saw his eyes shine with hope. He wanted this. Truly, he did.

  Luce stood up stiffly. "Mel…who are you? Your real name and rank, I mean. Like I'm Lucifer, Light of the Morning. I was one of the Seraphim, until…" He swallowed. "You should know who I am before we go any further. I've never met an angel who could withstand me – and then, not for long."

 

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