Welcome to Hell Box Set: Paranormal Romantic Comedy

by Demelza Carlton

  He'd lost track of time. So many meetings, so many demons...he'd missed out on precious time with Mel. Melody Angel. The amazing angel who'd walked naked through Hell for him, when no one else had ever willingly lifted a finger to help him. He couldn't stop thinking about it. About her.

  "Melody. Sweet, sweet Melody." He wanted to take her in his arms and do every pleasurable thing he could think of to do to a woman – Hell, he'd invent a few, just for her. Luce was on his knees, reaching for her, before he realised he should probably wake her first. Not to mention ask what she wanted. The last time he'd touched her was when she'd died in his arms.

  "I'm sorry I took so long," he said. "You shouldn't be lying here on the cold stone. I have a bed, you know."

  "Mmm," Mel said, sighing. He wasn't sure if she was responding to him or not.

  "Did you want me to take you to bed? To rest, of course. You need it."

  He waited for some sort of acknowledgement, but he got none. After a few seconds, he decided to do it anyway. He'd prefer her to be angry at him for making her comfortable than to leave her on the floor. Plus, he got to carry her in his arms and lay her on his bed. Plenty of material to fantasise about later...

  He lifted her body, letting the covering towel slide off to reveal her flawless skin. No, not flawless, he realised – she had a nasty wound on her shoulder, as if someone had clawed at her recently and it hadn't yet healed. When he found out who'd hurt her, he'd make sure they had time to regret their actions. A bloody long time.

  Avoiding the wound, he rose and carried her carefully back to the office. The illusionary wall that hid his bedchamber – and it was a chamber, a cavern within the greater cave – vanished to reveal the bed he rarely slept in. Black silk sheets didn't seem right for Mel, so he tried to focus on lightening the colour as much as he could before she touched them. He managed a brighter red than he had for the towels – more the colour of an open wound than a glass of rich, red wine – but there was no way he could make them as white as hers were at home.

  The red seemed to suit her, Luce decided, as he laid her on silk. He stroked her hair, accidentally brushing against her hurt shoulder. She screwed her face up and grumbled under her breath.

  "Who hurt you, Mel? Why didn't you just heal it?" he asked, not expecting a reply.

  She mumbled something he couldn't understand, so he asked her to repeat it.

  "Some harpy," she murmured. "A mistake. Won't do it again."

  "Why haven't you healed it?" he asked urgently. He couldn't stand to see her hurting like this.

  "Can't. Angels can't heal themselves. Healing is an act of love," she said, still not opening her eyes.

  "Mel, the claws went deep. I can see where it tore muscle and..." Luce didn't want to say much more. It'd only sound gruesome. His hand hovered over the wound – he wanted to touch it but didn't dare. "We need to get you to another angel who can heal you."

  "You do it," Mel mumbled.

  "Mel, I can't heal. I haven't been able to heal since I fell. Only angels can..."

  Mel's fingers were warm as her hand covered his to move his palm over her shredded shoulder. "You're an angel, my love. I can't think of anyone else's hands I'd like to heal me more than yours." He found he was staring into her wide open eyes. He couldn't look away. She smiled. "I'll tell you what. I'll even let you keep my underwear, if you like."

  Luce laughed. "What if it doesn't work?"

  She touched her lips to his fingers. "I believe you can heal me. I'll sleep better without the pain. Hell, I'll give you my underwear simply for trying. Just do it, Luce."

  Forty-Eight

  He closed his eyes, summoning a power he'd been without for so long that he'd almost forgotten what it felt like. It flowed like warm water from his fingertips to his palm, heating as it concentrated. He could see the glow through his eyelids, but he kept his eyes firmly shut, concentrating on muscle and tendon, bone and blood vessel. Pain burned in his shoulder – Hell, he'd forgotten about the part where you felt the pain you took away, but for the first time in his life, he welcomed the sensation. Mel's body had to knit perfectly – she'd been damaged while trying to help him.

  "You're hurting, my love. Let me take the pain away," Mel murmured. "The least I can do."

  Luce felt the healing pain start to fade as her delicate touch caressed his very soul, but he resisted it. "No. You've taken enough pain for me. I deserve this." If she probed any deeper, she'd know what he'd done in his despair...and leave him. Pain was a small price to pay – and perhaps part of his penance, too.

  "You don't deserve more pain, but if you wish, so be it."

  Luce felt her draw back from him a little and he fought the sensation of loss that followed. She was here and he was healing her, or at least trying to...despite his best efforts, the healing warmth in his hands faded. "Mel, I'm sorry. I can't," he said bitterly, not wanting to see the disappointment in her eyes.

  Her hand pushed his down, against her shoulder. The gaping hole was whole now – as if the wound had never been. Smooth and soft, an angel's skin, begging to be kissed, caressed...

  Luce opened his eyes to Mel's smile. "I told you," she said. "Thank you." She leaned forward to kiss him. Long and luscious – to Luce, this kiss was as near to Heaven as he'd been in centuries. Standing at the gate didn't come close. But this was the closest he was ever going to get.

  Reluctantly, he broke it. "You need to rest. I can wait – we have eternity together, or at least until this world ends." He waited for her to rest her head on the pillow again before he pulled the sheets up to cover her. He stared at the gold silk in his hands. "I’m sure this was..."

  Mel laughed softly. "A joint effort, I think. Do you still think you're a demon, Luce?"

  "I'm not sure what I am any more," he admitted. "Angel, demon or a bit of both."

  "What makes you think there's still a little demon inside you?" she asked.

  A little demon. Oh Hell. It was Luce's turn to laugh. "No, Mel. Not a little demon at all. The biggest, scariest, darkest demon you can imagine. I've heard men on Earth described as being beset by demons, but they have nothing on me, for I've been beset by, surrounded by and possessed by demons since the day I arrived here. And nothing will banish the worst one of all – because the big boss demon, the one in charge, is me. I'll always have a demon inside and that demon is me."

  "Show me," Mel commanded, her voice deceptively soft.

  "I don't want you to see it. It's the very worst of me – the horns, the hooves...all the darkness and horror of Hell that helps me keep order here. What an angel like you hates."

  "An angel doesn't hate." Mel's eyes seemed to burn into his. "Whatever body you wear, I still see the soul inside. Show me."

  Perhaps if he managed to distract her with his demonic body, she'd neglect to look too deeply into his soul. Reluctantly, Luce unzipped his fly and started pulling his pants down.

  "You keep your demon in your pants?" Mel laughed.

  Luce felt his cheeks redden. "No," he mumbled. "Just that this form isn't so good for clothes. You know how I said I walk around Hell naked to remind the other demons who's in charge?"

  "Well, it's a relief to know I'm not the only one to walk through this place without my clothes," Mel replied. She crossed her arms over the gold sheet that hid her breasts, as if reminding him what lay beneath. "Please, continue." Her avid eyes watched him finish stripping.

  "You asked for it," he said, grinning as he closed his eyes to keep that image of her face in mind. He didn't want to see her expression change to horror as his body showed her the monster that lived inside the man.

  Muscles bloated and bulged as his skin hardened. The weight of his wings settled into place – leather was lighter than feathers, though most wouldn't think it. A slight air current chilled his bare head as his horns pushed their way through the stretching skin. His feet tightened, forming hard hooves. He flexed his fingers, feeling the claws extend as his teeth did the same. His mouth felt full of
rocks, as it always did when he shifted to this form. He hoped he wouldn't bite his tongue in front of Mel. The skin of his back stung as his tail poked its way through, point first. He drew a breath into his expanded lungs, feeling the power in this body. He was the Lord of Hell – and he was afraid to open his eyes to see what Mel thought of him.

  He heard the light slap of her feet on stone as she approached. Would she keep going, running past him and all the way back up to the surface, to Heaven where she belonged? Or would she have the courtesy to say farewell first? Luce clenched his fists, squeezing his eyes shut tighter still.

  Forty-Nine

  Gentle fingers trailed up his spine, stroking the soft membrane between his wing digits as she somehow soothed away his fears. "This body has harder skin than the form you usually wear. I miss the plumage, but your wings feel so delicate when they're bare like this. It's hard to believe something so fragile can carry your weight, let alone anything else." Her lips touched his back, between his shoulder blades. "You're so much hotter in this form, too." She sounded amused.

  Impulse drove him to whirl around and whisk her into the air, wings beating as he shot upwards with her. He'd never thought of his demon body as big before, but she seemed so small in his arms as they soared high above the Styx and the walls of Dis.

  Mel placed her hand over his heart and the beat quickened for her.

  "So much suffering in one place," she murmured sadly, surveying the scene spread below her. Her hair felt tantalisingly soft against his skin as she laid her head on his chest. Luce breathed deeply, savouring her scent. "I don't know how you can stand it."

  "I belong here. This is Hell and I am the lord of this place. Torture, torment and all the despair I can't stomach. I can never be an angel again for you, Mel. Behold, the demon!" He threw his arms wide, releasing her.

  He expected her to cling to him in fear, or fall into the Styx below, so he'd have to catch her. How many times had he underestimated Mel?

  "Not all angels fall, Luce." Her wings shone far too bright for this dark space, seeming to give off their own light as they fluttered gently to buoy her. Her hand remained on his chest. Her touch was so light it might have been the feathers in her wings instead of her fingers. Mel lifted her head to look into his eyes. "You're not a demon and you belong with me," she said, smiling.

  Luce wanted to believe her, but the evidence wasn't looking good. "Angels don't have horns or tails or wings without feathers...and they don't have claws, either."

  Mel's white wings lifted her higher than Luce. Her lips touched the top of his head, right between his horns, as she treated him to a lovely, close-up view of her breasts. Angels probably don't get this horny, either, Luce thought, enjoying what was offered so freely.

  Her eyes met his again as she sank a little lower. Luce froze as he felt her reach around behind him, her fingers drifting down his lower back, one vertebra at a time, until they closed around him completely. He stared at her as her hand slowly stroked the length of his tail, stopping only at the tip, which she brought to her lips.

  If there was someone he could have sold his soul to so that she'd continue, he'd have done it on the spot.

  "The Lord of Hell does, for he has a reputation to maintain with the demons he rules. The body you wear is not a representation of the soul inside – merely what is appropriate for the time and the circumstance. I know you, Luce." Her words echoed in his head as she took his tail-tip in her mouth, sucking it like a spoon of that chocolate raspberry mousse she'd loved.

  Oh God. Did she know how many nerve endings she'd just electrified with one stroke of her tongue, arcing up his spine to his euphoric brain?

  Luce felt like he was going to burst out of his pants. If he'd been wearing pants...well, she'd be under no illusions that his body enjoyed the attention. He clenched his eyes shut so she wouldn't read the desire consuming his soul. She'd already read deeper than anyone else. "How can you possibly think you know my soul? I killed you once. The darkness you didn't see could rise and do it again." Sweet torment as her tongue tantalised his tail. She would have made as good a demon as she did an angel. With an effort, he wrenched his tail from her grasp, trailing the damp tip down her cheek, her throat, caressing her skin as he moved the point slowly down.

  "Because my soul is bonded with yours," she whispered.

  Horrified, he jerked away from her. "No, Mel. I never asked for your soul. Never wanted to damn you with me to this place..."

  She sniffled and smiled as she lifted her head, wiping her tears away with careless fingers. "Of course you didn't. You came to me and asked for my help. I shared it with you freely. I breathed my spirit into you, expecting your demon spirit to fight me and carry you home to Hell to escape from being burned by the brightness of mine. But there was no darkness shielding you from me – instead, your soul welcomed me in with...with love." She swallowed as an untended tear trickled down her cheek. "How could I respond with anything else? I felt the bond form – surely you did, too! – and when we parted, the connection between us remained. It helped me find you, but it doesn't hold me here. My soul is still my own – just linked with yours."

  Luce swallowed painfully. "If...if that's true, I didn't know about any bond. If I'd known you were in Hell, searching for me, instead of dead or in Heaven...I wouldn't have...I wouldn't have..." He'd thought he'd heard her voice, encouraging him to hold on when he'd wanted to die, but that was easily dismissed as wishful thinking.

  "Show me," she said softly.

  Fateful words.

  "You don't want to see," he whispered, as the horrors came unbidden. The despair that drove him to his own weapon, ripping flesh, bleeding on the floor...and waking to Persephone, as he lay puddled in his own blood. Saying Mel couldn't...didn't...would never love him.

  Falling. He plummeted into darkness again. This time, strong hands caught him. No one had ever...no one...yet he was rising. Mel. How could she bear his weight as well as her own? Her fragile wings were smaller than his, but together they ascended.

  "Hold on, Luce. I'm so sorry. I should've come sooner. Left clearer signs. Like the one at the entrance. Didn't you see?" she entreated through her tears.

  Red glitter. Not Michael. Mel. He closed his eyes. "I thought it was someone else, trying to torment me by reminding me of you. I never thought you'd come here for me. That you'd want to..." He stared at her, not even sure how to finish his sentence.

  "I've never...I never wanted to bond with anyone before. You...I've read so many souls, but I've never tried to share what lies in mine. Please...tell me if this reaches you." Mel closed her eyes tightly and frowned as she attempted whatever it was she meant to do.

  He watched her but felt nothing. "It's all right. I'm probably not perceptive enough to pick up on..."

  "Oh, to Hell with it," she exclaimed and kissed him. Leathery lips, mouth full of fangs, forked tongue and all.

  Her love burst upon him like a depth charge, leaving him breathless. How could her body hold all that feeling in? All for him. "Mel," he choked out, desperate not to hurt her even as her tongue caressed his. His mouth was a bloody booby-trap for him – he was terrified he'd bite her. God knew he'd bitten his own tongue often enough.

  "A demon would feel unbearable pain from my first touch and I didn't hurt you," Mel said, licking her lips. Her tongue looked miraculously unhurt, too. "You're no demon, my love."

  "No," he agreed. He became uncomfortably aware of where they were. "How about we take this back to my office, instead of in front of an audience that includes half of Hell?"

  Mel surveyed the hundreds – perhaps thousands – of demons and damned souls who were looking up in what might have been the first time in millennia. Self-consciously, she folded her wings. "Yes. Please, take me down, Luce."

  Holding as tight to her as he had during their ascent, he mirrored her smile. He had her all to himself, now without an audience, and she loved him. His hooves had barely touched the stone floor of the cavern before he kiss
ed her deeply.

  "I don't deserve you," he said.

  "You didn't deserve centuries in Hell. I hope you might consider what I have to offer some small consolation for what you've suffered."

  "Hardly small, Mel," he murmured.

  "There's something else that isn't small..." She glanced down, blushing. "I can certainly see why you intimidate the demons so much in this form."

  He'd never been glad of his red skin before, but he was now. She didn't see how his blush burned darker than hers. "I'm not normally this big," he insisted. "It must be because I'm so close to you. You could help me relieve the pressure a bit..." He pressed hopefully against her.

  "Luce, you're huge," she protested before he cut her off with another kiss.

  He concentrated on bringing his body back to be the man she'd known on Earth. Perhaps he had overdone the size of his demon body a bit...but it had all been proportionate. When his claws retracted, Mel didn't seem so small any more. Secure in his arms, she felt...perfect.

  "When I leave here, I want you to come with me," Mel said, bringing him back.

  He found himself, lost in her eyes. "That sounds wonderful." It took him a few moments before he added, "Hop on and I'll take you anywhere you want to go." He sat on the bed and patted his lap.

  Mel laughed, shook her head, and sat beside him instead. "Heaven. I want to take you home to Heaven with me, Luce."

  Luce wanted to drop everything on the spot and go with her. Even to Heaven, if that's what she wanted. He opened his mouth to offer.

  Someone started beating down his door. "Lord Lucifer! I need to speak with you!"

  Mel shrugged. "You're still the Lord of Hell. I bet you have a fair few demons who are wondering what exactly you were doing with the strange angel."