To Hell and Back

by Demelza Carlton

  Something didn't seem right. "No. She's here." Luce leaned over. "Melody, wake up, sweetheart." He kissed her and felt her respond, so he kissed her again.

  "You're a braver man than I am," Patrick remarked.

  Luce ignored him, keeping every bit of his focus on Mel. Her lips were moving under his and her eyelids fluttered. Reluctantly, he pulled away, but his eyes didn't leave her face.

  Mel sighed and smiled. "That was…the sweetest way to wake up. Thank you. I…I didn't mean to doze off like that. I was listening to you telling Patrick about the strange supernova you saw and didn't realise my body had slipped into unconsciousness."

  Luce stroked her hair. "It's okay. It's probably not half as exciting to you. You didn't see a girl turn into a star."

  Patrick cleared his throat. "Mel, you passed out. I figured you were off saving half of London, but he knew different. Care to explain? Is it true – you and him…" His voice seemed to die on him.

  "Bonded," Mel said softly. "Our souls are bonded. The night Luce became an angel again. I'd never have found him in Hell if we weren't."

  "Why?" Patrick croaked out. "He'd barely been an angel for five minutes, Mel!"

  Luce had wondered exactly the same thing, but he'd never dared to ask her. Now was his chance to find out.

  Luce felt Mel's fingers grasp his hand and squeeze. Her body stiffened as she kept her eyes on Patrick. "Because I love him. Because he'd invited me deep into his soul and I didn't want to break such a powerful connection with a kindred spirit. Because I was selfish and I didn't want to let go of the soul I loved." She blew out a breath. "Not after I'd had to give him up once for Persi." A warm drop of liquid landed on Luce's arm, followed by several more. She was crying, he realised.

  He wrapped his arms around her, the precious angel who loved him. "Since when? When did you know?" The words were out before Luce realised he'd opened his mouth.

  Mel sniffled. "I don't know. I believe it started at the office picnic, but I didn't realise until after you left with Persi. I…I travelled to New York one night to check on you both, and it broke my heart to leave you in that state. Persi called me every day after that and I told her how to take care of you. From your coffee to your meals to your shirts and your schedule and everything I could think of. She wanted so much to be an angel that she begged to take my place in HELL so she could prove herself. And Raphael agreed, so I stepped back."

  Luce snorted at his own stupidity in not seeing it before. "It was you. The whole time, it was you. The first week with Persephone was maddening, she was so useless. And then it was like she learned and improved…but she didn't really, did she? Everything she did was on your advice." Triumph kindled in his chest. Mel had wanted him – she hadn't been immune to his charms after all. The constant offers of sex from the nephilim had come from Mel!

  Mel laughed weakly. "Not everything."

  Luce waited with bated breath.

  "She's the one who wanted to go to bed with you. I had no advice for her on that subject, though she asked enough times."

  Luce's heart plummeted. Had none of his amorous advances in the office affected Mel at all? Wait, there'd been the time Persi had…

  "And I've never given a man oral sex in my life. That's definitely Persi's speciality, or so I've heard."

  Shit. Even Luce's fantasies, wishing the lamprey who'd blown him had been Mel, crumbled into dust.

  Patrick burst out laughing. "I'm not sure what's funnier. Hearing you talk about blowjobs or seeing his hopes for one wither and die in his expression." Under Mel's gaze, the saint sobered and stood. "I'll go get some more drinks, shall I?" He gathered the glasses and retreated to the kitchen.

  Mel's soft voice was barely audible. "I'm sorry, Luce. If I'd known how much trouble Persi would cause with my assistance, I'd never have let her accompany you. And I shouldn't…shouldn't have sealed the bond without asking you first. If you want to dissolve the bond between us, tell me and I'll do it. I'll help find you another mentor to replace me so that you don't have to even look at me again if you don't want to. I did what I did because I wanted your soul and because I love you. You have no obligation to me and I thank you for everything –"

  "Hold up," Luce interrupted. "What are you talking about? Breaking bonds and foisting me on someone else?" His heart froze. "Am I too much trouble for you, Mel? Please, I know I'm rusty at being an angel, but I'll try harder, I swear. Please don't dissolve anything. Please, Mel. As I recall, I begged you on my knees for your help that night and I'll do it again. Nothing has made me happier than this bond, or whatever it is we share. You raised me from the depths of Hell because of it. I owe you more than anything for what you've done for me. And I will repay you, in any way I can." He kissed her, praying desperately that she wouldn't pull away. She'd risked everything for him in Heaven, Hell and on Earth and all the realms were empty without her. "I love you, Melody, and NOTHING will change that."

  She smiled through her tears and Luce's heart dared to beat again.

  "Even if you don't know how to give a blowjob," he continued.

  Mel let out a very un-angelic snort.

  "With a bit of instruction and a lot of practice, maybe you could –"

  "Luce!" Whatever else she'd meant to say was lost in her helpless laughter.

  "Mel?" Patrick said quietly. He approached her, cupping a mug between his hands.

  Luce wondered what had happened to the drinks Patrick had volunteered to get for them. It looked like he'd decided to cater for just himself.

  To his surprise, Patrick held the mug out to Mel. She took the frothy milk without saying a word, but she didn't lift it to her lips.

  "Please permit me to read your soul," Patrick continued, his hands hovering over Mel's. She nodded once and his hands wrapped around hers even as she held the mug.

  Jealousy raged in Luce's guts like a demon trying to wrestle its way out. Mel had given her permission, but he didn't like the saint touching her one little bit.

  Patrick released her. "Mel, you should be in Heaven, not here." He looked straight at Luce. "You should take her there. Help her conserve the precious little she has left."

  "No," Mel murmured. "I have too much to do to waste time in Heaven right now. When this situation is resolved…"

  "Let me. Let Raphael. Let someone else handle it. If you keep going like this, you'll be forced to do it anyway and you won't be able to choose when you go."

  Luce felt his irritation build at the angel's perpetual riddles. "Let you what? No one's forcing Mel to do anything and I'd love to see someone try. I will do whatever she says I need to do, and if Mel says she doesn't want to go to Heaven, I'm not taking her anywhere."

  "Does he know?" Patrick pressed. Mel made no movement or reply. He turned his eyes on Luce. "Do you know how exhausted she is? Even her soul is drained of energy, almost to the point of not being able to maintain that body. She desperately needs rest."

  Mel drank deeply and Luce felt her body move with each swallow.

  "I know she's tired," Luce replied. "More tired than I've ever seen her. I thought it was just the flight, but –"

  The mug smacked down on the coffee table. "I'm fine. Tired, yes, but not so decrepit that I'm going to disintegrate before your eyes if I so much as take a deeper breath than usual. Luce is taking care of me. Today was…very draining…but I'll rest until we leave London. I have time to recuperate before our flight home. I'm sure I'll…you don't need to do that!" Startled, Luce eased up on healing her. He'd only been trying to restore her body – he didn't know where to start with healing a soul. He would if he could, though. "But thank you," she finished softly.

  "Do you want me to take you to bed?" Luce asked.

  Mel shifted and winced. "Probably for the best," she admitted.

  Luce didn't wait for her to say more. He lifted her easily in his arms and carried her to their room. He shoved aside the covers to lay her on the bed before pulling the quilt up over her. "Is there anything else I can do for
you, Melody?" He couldn't keep the worry out of his voice.

  Mel moved beneath the covers and her fingers reached for Luce. "A goodnight kiss would be wonderful, my love."

  Luce grasped her outstretched hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles, not wanting to tire her out any more.

  Mel laughed weakly. "Not like that. I'm not so tired that I can't tell the difference between a kiss and some archaic courtly gesture. I want a goodnight kiss where your lips mould to mine and our tongues dance between them to a song we both know and love."

  "Beethoven's Ninth," Luce breathed, dropping to his knees. Mel sighed in pleasure as their lips met and Luce did his damnedest to give her a kiss with dancing in it, though a fair bit dirtier than the stately stuff of Beethoven's time.

  Luce felt Mel's second sigh and her contentment, so he gently broke the kiss. Much more and he'd be in for an uncomfortable night.

  "Patrick's waiting for you in the kitchen with a glass of that lovely aged whisky you boys were drinking last night. If only I wasn't so tired, I'd join you. But as it is…" She smiled. "He doesn't blame you for the shape I'm in. He knows I have a tendency to do too much. He was just shocked. If you have questions about angels or souls or anything at all, you can ask him. If I were to suggest a mentor for you, the first one I'd recommend would be Patrick. He truly does want to help you, my love."

  Help him back to Hell, just like every other angel, Luce grumbled to himself but didn't dare say aloud. "I'll be back soon," he said instead, giving her one final kiss before heading back to the kitchen for the promised whisky.

  To Luce's irritation, Patrick was waiting for him in the kitchen, but he was mollified by the scent of two aromatic glasses of whisky on the bench beside him.

  Patrick raised his glass. "To a braver man than I am, for filling the hole in Muriel's heart."

  He drank, but Luce didn't. "Why do you say that?"

  "It's a brave man who'd agree to share a bond with an angel as high as Lady Muriel. I couldn't do it. I'd be terrified that one day I'd let her down, because it's inevitable that I would." He closed his eyes as he took a large sip.

  Luce tasted the whisky, relishing the smooth burn as it coated the back of his throat. "Stop being evasive. Tell me what you know about angelic bonds that I don't."

  Patrick nodded. "I only know what I've heard and what I've seen, as I've never been close enough to anyone to form such a powerful bond. Have you ever been bonded before? I mean, before you…became the Lord of Hell?"

  Luce shook his head, gesturing for the saint to continue.

  "I only ask because I've heard that demon taint is one of the ways such a bond can be severed. It's not easy, I've heard – it takes a fairly powerful angel to form or break one. Of course, it goes without saying that Mel could. But she never has. Not until now."

  "She offered to dissolve it," Luce said. "If that's what I wanted."

  "Did she say that's what she wanted?" Patrick asked shrewdly.

  "No. She seemed sad at the thought, to be honest. But she offered. She said she could break the bond and find me a better mentor. She suggested you." Luce drank deeply.

  Patrick choked. "Me? A better mentor than Mel? I'm honoured at the compliment if she thinks so, but she's wrong. If you were to search Heaven and Earth for a better mentor than she is, good luck finding one. She's the kindest, most patient angel I've ever met and she knows more about Heaven and Earth than any angel alive. Hell, too, now, I imagine. I wish she'd offered to mentor me, but she was busy at the time and I didn't even know her then, or I'd have begged her. Instead, I worked with Uriel. He's the archangel bonded to Gabrielle, and he's been handling the situation in Russia and the Ukraine for a long time now. What I know about angelic bonds is from him."

  "And that is?"

  "You share everything with your partner. Every thought, feeling and emotion, even on the other side of the world. It's as if distance doesn't matter. It's a deep connection, joining two souls across some sort of dimension in space that only the most powerful angels can negotiate safely. He said that Beelzebub and Mephistopheles had had a bond like it once, before they fell, but it was broken when their souls were corrupted by darkness. Through it you feel everything. So if you ever disappoint her…you'll feel her pain as acutely as if it were your own. And Mel, well, she's heartbroken whenever she loses a soul. You'd think she'd be used to it by now, humans being as wilful as they are, but she's so incredibly optimistic that she goes into every negotiation convinced that whatever power-hungry politician she's dealing with is a paragon of virtuous, selfless leadership. And she's shattered when they demonstrate that they're as dodgy as the next bloke." He set his empty glass down. "More whisky?"

  "Please." Luce waited until Patrick had finished pouring. "So you're saying I'll share her pain, but also her joy and everything else? And that she's the best mentor there is? She wants the best for me – she said so. Why would she ask me to give her up?"

  Patrick's eyes stayed firmly on his drink. "She always wants the best for others. And usually she'll issue orders to that effect without giving you a choice in the matter. I've learned to trust her on things, because when she's considering the repercussions of a decision, her visions are so detailed that she doesn't miss a thing. If she offers you a choice, it means the future isn't clear to her." He winked. "And you know what that means."

  Irritated, Luce slammed his glass on the counter a little more firmly than he'd intended. "No, I damn well don't. Time travel sounds like a fiction humans created. Just tell me instead of dropping maddening hints!"

  Patrick shrugged. "Suit yourself. I thought you would know, but I guess you've forgotten, being a demon for so long and all. A future she can't see is one that's dependent on her decisions. She can evidently see a clear, successful future for you if you decide to leave her to pursue your angelic career with another mentor. Even one as inexperienced as me. My God, I personify everything you stood against in the Heavenly Battle. Humans with souls good enough to enter Heaven to become angels, and even rise through the choirs to outrank older, more experienced angels. If you chose me as your mentor over her, that'd be one of the most ironic pairings ever. Maybe even more unusual than you and Mel herself." Luce opened his mouth to defend Mel's choice, but closed it again as Patrick continued, "I'm sure she has her reasons and they'll be good ones, though she chooses not to share them with me. Can I offer you some advice, though?"

  It was Luce's turn to shrug. "You can offer." Didn't mean he had to take any of it.

  "Ask her what she wants, because to me it's pretty clear that she wants you. Breaking a bond will be even harder on her than forming one, and she wouldn't have created it lightly. Bonding isn't common and the angels who do it don't willingly break them. She's asking you to choose between promotion through the angelic choirs and an uncertain future with her. I think it's because she doesn't want to make the wrong decision for you, so it's your choice. She's already made her preference clear: she wants you to stay with her. But she'd never force you to do it. And there's nothing more precious in this universe than her. Hell, if I were you, I'd take the bond and the beautiful mentor and count my blessings." He eyed Luce. "But if you don't want her…there are plenty of us who do."

  "Sounds like sound advice, saint," Luce drawled, upending his glass to catch the last few, fiery drops on his tongue. "My thanks for the chat and the drink, but I have an angel waiting for me in bed. One I won't be letting go of before this world ends."

  Patrick raised his glass in salute. "Take good care of her, devil."

  The flat smelled of bacon. Not quite Heaven, but enough to make Luce cut his shower short and head for the source of the appetising aroma.

  Mel's laughter bubbled over the sizzle of what promised to be the best breakfast ever. Luce glanced around to see the source of mirth, but he only met the eyes of an equally puzzled Patrick, who shrugged.

  "Good morning, sweet Melody," Luce said, moving in behind her to kiss her neck.

  "Good morning, Luce,
and Patrick, too," Mel responded. "Bacon's better than any alarm clock, right boys?"

  "You bet." Patrick opened the fridge. "You want me to make some toast to go with that?"

  Mel jerked her head at the shopping bag on the bench. "No, I picked up some fresh bakery rolls from one of the shops downstairs. I forgot how expensive food is in London. I'm used to things only costing half as much in Australia – I didn't take enough money for eggs, so I hope you don't mind."

  Who needed eggs when Mel was making bacon?

  "I'll make coffee, then." Patrick clicked on the kettle and rummaged through the cupboard until he pulled out the dreaded jar of instant coffee.

  "NO!" Luce hadn't meant to shout so loud, but the thought of having to politely swallow instant coffee took all the pleasure out of the morning. "I'll go downstairs and buy some. I know I saw a coffee shop on the way here. Patrick, how do you take your coffee?"

  Mel and Patrick both glanced at the steaming teapot.

  Luce faltered. "So neither of you want coffee?" At Mel's gentle head-shake, he stomped off to get his wallet.

  "Ah, Lucifer? You might want to put some pants on," Patrick suggested. "The neighbours are likely to call the police if they see you walking down the street without any clothes." He gave a sheepish smile. "I'd bail you out, but Mel wouldn't like it if you got arrested."

  Luce yanked on a pair of pants, added shoes and socks, stuffed his wallet in his pocket, and strode back to the kitchen.

  "Are you sure you don't want a coffee, Mel?" Luce leaned in close, pulling her body against his.

  "No, I'm fine. Really, my love." She stretched up for a kiss that he was only too happy to give. "Best be quick, though. The bacon's nearly ready."

  Luce took the stairs two at a time, all the way down to the street. He dodged through the dopey office workers who evidently needed a coffee more than he did, unable to stop grinning as they stared. They'd probably never seen muscles like his in the flesh, hence why they kept their flabby bits under their buttoned-to-the-collar shirts.