Edge of Heaven

by Rhiannon Leith

  “I shall abide,” he said in broken tones like a series of minor chords. “Until Lily bids me leave.”

  “And me?” Sam asked, teasingly.

  The fire of anger flashed through her angel again and his muscles tensed. “You have nothing to do with this, Sammael.”

  “Ah, but I do, Mike.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “What? Mike? But I think it suits you.”

  “Enough,” Lily told them, finding more strength in her voice than she expected. To her surprise they both fell silent, watching her. Two perfect faces, as different as day and night, as beautiful as each other. Like Sam, Micah towered a head and shoulders over her, and yet she was the one who held him still with just the touch of her hand. “Micah, please, will you stay? I have to let Reid know what I saw. And we need to talk. Please.”

  He nodded, but he didn’t voice his agreement. Well, he was an angel so she would just have to hope his word was his bond, and that a brief nod counted as much. Lifting her hand was the hardest thing she ever had to do. Micah trembled as she released him, but didn’t move away. Her hand stayed warm, as if some trace of him came with her.

  She brushed her fingers against her palm. She could almost feel it, like gilded dust, or the finest silk, lingering in the afterglow of touching him. She lifted her hand to her face and there it was, the unmistakable scent of warm cinnamon and sugar, Micah’s scent, one she had known all her life.

  “Sam, the phone,” she said, unsure where this new commanding Lily had come from. She’d never felt so strong. Sam cast her a surprised look, but did as she instructed. He transferred his scrutiny to her while she dialled Reid’s number. Micah took a few steps forward, until he could turn. He leaned against the wall, watching her in a less speculative fashion. It was more like dread.

  Taking a deep breath in case she chickened out, Lily turned her back on them. Everything in her screamed that this was the wrong time, that if she didn’t act now she might lose Micah forever.

  A male voice answered. Reid was out of the office. Could he take a message? Quickly, she spilled out what she had seen, hearing his grunts of acknowledgement grow less enthusiastic as she continued. Finally, she ran out.

  “Yeah, I’ll—aah—I’ll let her know. Thank you for calling.” The line clicked and went dead. Lily stared at the handset. It felt wrong. Even with everything that was going on, even with what waited behind her, Lily’s instincts wouldn’t let her step away from this.

  “What was her mobile number?” she asked faintly.

  “Let me,” said Sam. In her hand, the phone began to dial, a rapid series of beeps and then a ring tone.

  This time Reid answered. She sounded distracted, but listened intently to what Lily said. Even about the message. “At the office? That’s strange. Must be someone from another division. I’ll check it out. Thanks Lily. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

  Click, dead line. Time to turn around, Lily, she told herself. Time to face him. For the first time in twenty years.

  And her own anger flared, warming her chest, making her heart pound against her ribs. Twenty years. Hiding from her. Pretending to be what he was not. Twenty fucking years.

  “Sam,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’d like to talk to Micah alone.”

  Sam looked like she’d just told him she’d send him a bill for the dry cleaning or something. If she pushed him, she wondered if he would fall over. Micah on the other hand might have been one of the Renaissance statues to which Sam had likened him, petrified, or carved from stone in the first place.

  “I need you to go, Sam. Now.”

  “Go? Lily, I don’t think—”

  “Now!” she snapped, unable to tear her eyes off Micah’s placid face. If he sensed her sudden anger, the angel didn’t show it. If anything he looked ready for the worst.

  Sam let out his breath in a long hiss. “Just remember what you owe me, Lily.”

  She clenched her jaw, the threat in his voice raking against her nerves. “And if you don’t do what I say now, you’ll never collect, do you understand?”

  He laughed, a low chuckle, far too knowing a sound. “You’re learning, sweetheart. You’re definitely learning.”

  “I had a good teacher,” she told him, not even bothering to keep the snark out of her voice. “Go away, Sam. Now.”

  Sam rolled his shoulders back, forcing his body to relax, though she could still see the tension around the edges of his dark, dark eyes.

  “All right,” he said as if it didn’t matter at all. “I’ll see the pair of you tomorrow. Try to keep the noise down, won’t you, Mike? Some of us will be trying to sleep.”

  Chapter Nine

  The door to the apartment clicked shut with the finality of a key turning in a lock. Micah’s skin jumped around his frame with the sound, but he didn’t move.

  “Lily, this has to stop.” He tried to keep his voice patient and calm.

  Lily took two steps towards him and slapped his face, hard. The pain was unexpected, and in some ways a relief. The bite of blood in his mouth brought him back from the spell of her touch, the hold she had over him.

  “How dare you?” she said, her voice dangerously low. “How dare you, for so damn long?”

  “How dare I what?”

  “He lies, he hides the truth, he manipulates people. Not you. Not you, Micah. I always believed that, and yet here you are, in the flesh after twenty years of letting me believe that you couldn’t.”

  He backed away, even though he was taller, broader and stronger than her. Lily didn’t become angry easily, he knew that, but this little whirlwind of rage and resentment was something entirely new. She had ordered Sammael out of the room, commanded him to leave. He’d never seen anyone in thrall to a demon able to do anything of the sort. But Lily had.

  His sense of pride soared.

  Until she stepped in again and raised her hand against him once more. Micah caught her arm before it could fall and stared into her face. Tears formed in her eyes, matting her lashes as if netted with diamonds.

  “You lied to me, Micah. All these years. I have loved you. Only you. No one else could compare. And you could have been with me, could have loved me back.”

  Her free hand curled into a first and hit his chest.

  “Lily, I couldn’t.” He cradled her face with his hand, tracing the line of her high cheekbone. “You were a child. It would have been wrong. So wrong.”

  “I wasn’t a child, Micah. Not once dead people started turning up in the night. Not once I heard their voices and felt their deaths. I wasn’t a child. And I’m not one now. I’m a thirty-two-year-old woman. I needed you. Back then and now.” Her voice dropped, the anger leaching out of it as he gazed down into her face. “I need you.”

  “I can’t.” He was holding her too close. He knew that. Naked as he was, in human form, his body couldn’t help but react to her, to long for her as his mind longed. She was beautiful. His brightest light. His beloved Lily.

  “Yes, you can.” Her hand pressed flat against his chest, fingertips grazing the light scattering of golden hair. His nipples tightened, and so did his chest. His whole body did, to tell the truth. With her so close, he was uncomfortably aware of the growing erection.

  Lily’s eyes trailed downwards, then lifted to his face. She nuzzled into the hand resting against her cheek, turned towards it and pressed her lips to the heel of his hand.

  Micah drew in a breath and pulled back again, trying to escape her, even when he didn’t seem able to let go of her arm. His fingers were welded there, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make them uncurl. The wall came up behind him, hard and cold. And beside him, the door to her bedroom. There was nowhere else to go.

  And Lily closed on him again, drawn after him by his grip on her, by her grip on him. Like dancers, he thought absently. Like dancers who needed each other, just as she said.

  “This must stop, Lily,” he said, his gaze filling itself with her lips, the de
licate line of her nose, the sparkling eyes. Her mouth opened and he found himself leaning towards her, pulling her towards him. “We have to stop.”

  Her lips parted. Her soft grey eyes fluttered closed.

  “Stop,” he tried for the last time, his mouth brushing against his, their lips interweaving. “Please make it stop.”

  She groaned as he claimed her mouth with his own, pulling her towards him and crushing her hand between them. His fingers threaded her hair, like strands of silk, like everything he had ever dreamed. She smelled of orange blossom and jasmine. And Lily, the sweet scent of Lily he’d known for so long. His grip slid down her arm to her shoulder and, free once more, she caressed his face.

  Her body pressed against his groin, maddening him and she moved slowly, her tongue curling around his, drawing the kiss out and sending ripples of desire running through every vein in his insubordinate body.

  Her clothes came away beneath his hands. He didn’t even know what he was unbuttoning or pulling free. There was no conscious thought about it. Only need. He gave in to it, forsaking what he thought he knew for what he could feel.

  Her breasts were full and high. His hands cupped them, lifted them, and when he brushed his thumbs over the nipples, she cried out softly, her voice smothered by his mouth.

  Her own hands were not idle. They roamed lower, trailing the ridges of his abdomen, teasing the sensitive skin of his upper thighs until his breath turned ragged. One snaked down to close around his hard and ready cock. It pulsed beneath her touch, and as she slid her hand and naked body along the length of it, his own need rumbled up into his voice, right from the depths of him.

  “Please Lily,” he groaned, no longer sure what he was pleading for, “please, my bright one.”

  She rocked against him and he moved with her, his hands roving across her velvet skin, her hips, the downy hair between her legs. She was wet, glistening, the moisture between her legs like warm honey.

  Micah pressed a finger home and she cried out, her fingers working along his cock, trailing down to cup his balls and back up the shaft.

  Lily breathed his name as he twisted his finger inside her and then withdrew it. Her scent filled the air, confounding him, sending his blood pumping even faster. It pounded at the base of his brain, driving all sanity from him.

  With strong and certain hands, he lifted her from the floor taking her lips once more. Eager for him, she wrapped her legs around his waist, trapping his cock against her. But Micah just kissed her, his mouth devouring her, taking control as he had wished to so many times.

  He carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. She stretched out for him, welcoming him to her, arching up to greet his body with her own.

  “Please Micah,” she begged, “please, please Micah.” The two repeated words were a litany, a song of pleasure and need. He parted her legs and knelt between them, gazing down all the wonderful length of her.

  Every instinct told him this was wrong. Everything that made him what he was, what he had been created to be, told him to stop, to dissolve himself into light and flee from her. But he couldn’t. Hadn’t he said as much to Enoch? He couldn’t leave her. And if they were right, if this week was all she had, then how could he pretend it didn’t matter? How on earth could he just let her go?

  “Ah, Lily,” he groaned. “You’ll damn us both, my bright one.”

  Before she could answer, he bent low and ran his tongue up the line of her labia, parting them so he could press it deep inside her and drink down her essence. Lily gave a stuttering cry and her hips lifted from the bed. His hands cupped her ass, holding her up and she squirmed against him, shouting out his name in ecstasy.

  “Now, Micah. I need you. Please.”

  He lifted himself and she smiled, her eyes distant and blurred with desire. Her hair spread around her face and she rocked her hips towards him.

  He couldn’t resist any longer. Lifting himself over her, holding himself up on his arms, he let her guide his cock to her. He stopped, poised there, savouring the forbidden, the look on her face, his own rising hunger.

  Is this what it is to fall? he wondered. If so, no wonder so many of his kind relinquished their hold on Heaven.

  Micah hung over her, gazing into her face for a moment longer.

  “Lily,” he said and she smiled. All the world brightened when she smiled. Releasing his last reservations and regrets, Micah plunged into her depths, moving with her, his body ravaging hers and hers claiming his as her own. She closed around him, her legs wrapping around his hips, her mouth taking his once more. She tangled her fingers in his hair and came with a cry that rang through his body and his mind.

  He buried himself in her, his hips bucking as he came. A ragged cry tore itself out of him and he released himself, and all that he was, to her care. He emptied himself into her, sobbing as he did so.

  He might have lain there a minute or a lifetime, spent in his surrender. Lily’s body moved around him, and her inner muscles drew him deep inside her again.

  He rolled onto his side, but she came with him, face-to-face, side by side, her eyes heavy with desire still.

  “You’ve made me wait far too long, Micah.” Her fingertips skimmed up his body and he shuddered. The movement echoed deep inside her and Lily gasped.

  He smiled, relishing the power she had over him, the power he had over her. Wrapped together, entwined on her bed, they were one, if only for a little while. He kissed her, savouring each movement, each taste, each tiny breath of pleasure as he started to move within her again.

  “I promise, Lily,” he breathed, “I will never make that mistake again.”

  Sam closed the door behind him with a combination of regret, dread and triumph.

  And jealousy. That was the last thing he was expecting, and yet it was there, a spike of envy for both Micah and Lily. It shouldn’t affect him. It shouldn’t matter to him that they would finally face each other, that they would make love as they longed to. He could make Lily want him. He could make her come, scream his name, beg for his touch, do anything. But she loved Micah.

  His hand shook and his key skidded across the surface of the lock.

  Lily loved Micah.

  It had never been more obvious to him as it had the moment she had told him to go. He’d covered the shock but he couldn’t hide it from himself. No more than he could quell the lust that rose in him at the sight of the angel in corporeal form. As an ethereal he was beautiful, enchanting, a wonder of light and shimmering air. In physical form, “breathtaking” came to mind. Sam closed his eyes, conjuring up that image to torment himself with. The idea of them, of the two of them together, Lily’s creamy skin against the gilded tones of Micah, her coppery hair spilling across his golden curls.

  Sam sucked in a breath and his pulse jumped.

  He could almost see them. If he reached out with his mind he would be able to sense all they felt. But he couldn’t do it.

  The apartment was dark, empty and soulless. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He didn’t need the lights and he didn’t feel inclined to see the world anyway.

  From the next apartment his preternatural hearing picked up a gasp. The quintessence of pleasure, condensed to a single sound. He wasn’t sure which one of them it was. It didn’t matter. His chest tightened and his cock leaped inside his jeans. He reached in to adjust it, and found his hand refusing to move out again. Maybe his mind didn’t want to be involved. His body had other ideas.

  The button fly opened and he eased back the denim. Running his hand along the length of his cock, he shuddered and leaned forward, one hand on the wall to support himself, fingers splayed. He rocked forward and curled his palm around the shaft. In his mind, he pictured them. No matter that they probably hadn’t got beyond a touch or a kiss next door. He imagined Lily on her knees while Micah thrust himself into her mouth, deep into her throat. Or Lily, tied spread-eagled on the bed while her angel fucked her, his taut buttocks tensing with each flex of his hips.
Or Lily sitting astride Micah’s face, her hands on the wall just opposite his, throwing back her head as she came.

  “Well, this is charming,” Asmodeus’s voice mocked. “Ineffective, I’d wager, but just charming.”

  Sam spun around, a snarl on his face, but he was too slow. Few demons in all of hell had enough power to stand against Asmodeus, a King of Hell for so many centuries now, and Sam was totally unprepared, defenceless.

  With a derisive flick of his fingers, the lust demon called forth the same serpentine chains. They coiled around Sam’s arms and legs, hauling his back to the wall. Stretched like an X, like a crucified man, Sam struggled helplessly as the metal shifted to thick restraints, cold against his wrists and ankles. His clothes melted away to shadows and he stood there, writhing in a vain effort to free himself, more from pride than belief that it was possible.

  Asmodeus ran his hands through his long black hair. He took the role of demon seriously, far more so than Sam did. Asmodeus revelled in it. No victim claimed was insignificant, but to trump a rival, he had once told Sam, was the sweetest victory of all.

  “Let’s see now. We left it here earlier, didn’t we?”

  “I got more time,” Sam growled.

  “Yes. But we felt using it to bring the lovebirds together was a misuse of that time. So for every mistake there’s a punishment. And this will be yours, Sammael.”

  “He wasn’t going to come to me. She’s the honey trap, you idiot. She’s the bait to bring him to me.”

  Asmodeus laughed. “Do I look like I care? I’ve been given a task here, Sammael, and I’m going to do it. Not play games. I abhor games.” He smoothed his broad hands down the front of the leather vest he wore. “Our master feels you need an incentive, something to remind you of your task, something to goad you a little. I said I’d be happy to provide it.”

  “But I—”

  He didn’t stand a chance. Asmodeus grabbed the back of his head, yanking his hair sharply. Sam opened his mouth in shock and rage and the demon kissed him. It was a vicious, unfeeling kiss, a branding of one by the other. Teeth and tongue battered him, and with his head held in place and his body pinned to the wall, Sam could do nothing, which just made it even worse. At the same time Asmodeus pressed his hand to Sam’s abdomen and power flooded him.