See You in Hell

by Demelza Carlton

  A deafening explosion outside, accompanied by a bright burst of light, couldn't break the contact between them. The afterimage burned through Mel's eyelids even after her house was plunged into darkness.

  Dimly, she became aware of the power in the house draining away. The refrigerator's hum silenced and the sole sounds were their shared breathing beneath the rain hissing down on the roof. The room was lit only by her golden glow. No – not anymore.

  She'd turned a demon – and, possibly, blown the power transformer for the whole suburb in the process. She hoped the damage could be repaired – but it was a small price to pay for the redemption of a soul.

  Mel pulled away, feeling the change as Luce began to give off light, too. Not as bright as Mel, but enough. "Luce, look," she said softly. "See what you've become."

  He opened his eyes and looked down. "Thank you," Luce breathed. He flexed his fingers, the faint light from them shimmering in his eyes.

  "How do you feel?" Mel asked, wondering what a redeemed demon was supposed to experience. She had no comparison. She allowed her radiance to dim into darkness, as she tried to focus on the faint connection she still seemed to have with his heart. When she faded, Luce was the only light in the room. A light she'd helped rekindle, which made him her responsibility.

  "Some things are different, but some stay the same. I still want you as much as ever. I almost wish you'd rejected me. The thought of taking you on the couch has turned from enticing to all-consuming. I want...more." He stared at her hungrily.

  Mel took his arm, looking up to meet his eyes so he could read her soul if he wished. "Careful, or you'll wind up back in the Pit, right back where you started. Congress between angels and demons is forbidden, but two angels...Love is a very important part of life as an angel." She waited for her words to sink in.

  "No, I'm sure I just want to seduce you out of your clothes so I can make love to you 'til morning." It took him a moment for his mind to catch up with his tongue. Luce looked shocked as he said, "I love you?" He shook his head hard. "No. Demons aren't capable of love. I can't love you. Unless..." Mel could see his eyes widening as he sensed it. "How did you do it? I do love you." The former demon's confusion was complete.

  Mel laughed gently. "So it would seem." She leaned in close. "For future reference, I prefer the bed to the couch – more space. Come." She beckoned. "I don't want you to be alone tonight. So, tell me, Luce. How good are you in bed?"

  Luce chuckled as he followed her. "I can make an angel think she's in Heaven."

  Sunlight kissed her eyelids and Mel slipped out of bed.

  Luce still slept soundly and she didn't want to wake him, so she left only a light kiss on the former demon's cheek. She padded quietly to the kitchen with her phone, lifted it and dialled. Two rings later, he answered.

  "Hello?"

  "Raphael, you know how you owe me a favour?"

  Author's Note

  See You in Hell is just the beginning of the Mel Goes to Hell series. After this comes Mel Goes to Hell.

  Read on for FOUR bonus chapters from Mel Goes to Hell, the next book in the Mel Goes to Hell series.

  Soft lips brushed his cheek. Luce turned his head to claim a kiss for his mouth, too, but met only air. He opened his eyes, searching for the source of the soft kisses, just in time to see her back depart through the doorway.

  He glanced at the room, taking a moment to remember the events of the previous night. Persephone, signing the contracts, before he left in the downpour...

  He scrambled out of bed, trying not to make a sound before he made sure his memories were accurate.

  "You know how you owe me a favour?" Mel's lovely voice said.

  Luce's breath caught in his throat as he walked faster. He needed to see her to be sure.

  She was talking on the telephone, resting her forearm on the bench so she could lean across it. One ankle was crossed behind the other, her toes tapping lightly on the carpet. Luce stood transfixed at this vision.

  Mel had invited him in, given him a spectacular kiss, before demonstrating that she was heavenly in more ways than he'd imagined.

  "Don't worry. Persi is aware of her mistake and she won't make it again. If he finds you, don't let him in – call us and we'll take care of him. It's hardly a favour – just us protecting a valuable member of our staff," a muffled male voice sounded through the phone line.

  Mel's caller was talking about him, Luce realised. Not to let him in, because he was the mistake. But Mel had, and she'd taken better care of him than anyone else would or could. She was the best kind of angel.

  "No, it's not that," Mel replied. "Look, can I meet with you in person, some time this morning? I'd prefer to discuss this face to face."

  "I have a meeting at nine, but I'm free from ten. How about then?" the voice said.

  She turned to look at the clock above Luce's head. He didn't have time to hide himself or conceal how he'd been staring at her, so he brazened it out, meeting her eyes when her glance lowered to his face, before her gaze dropped lower still.

  "Ten sounds fine. See you then," she said, turning away from Luce.

  Sprung, Luce didn't waste time. He strode across the carpet to Mel, reaching out to touch her. "You should've told him it's too late – I've already found you," he whispered, feeling her tense up. She dropped the phone on the counter, letting Luce see that she'd ended the call.

  "I'd like to keep you to myself for a little longer, first. I'm not sure what I've done to you and it wouldn't be fair to desert you so soon," Mel admitted.

  Luce's heart sank. "So I'm under observation, like some sort of medical case, Mel? Not because you feel something for me, except maybe morbid curiosity?" he asked bitterly. He glanced up at the clock. "And you'll discharge me at ten, when you have a meeting with a secretive somebody who thinks I'm a mistake."

  Steel-strong hands grasped his as her eyes bored into his soul. "You're coming with me to that meeting. Afterwards, I'll be all yours. After all, we're both unemployed. Perhaps you should start thinking about what we'll do together."

  Luce's mind whirled. Together. All his. Mel.

  "So what would you like for breakfast?" she asked.

  Luce chuckled. "You – or, failing that, anything else you're willing to offer." He pressed his lips lightly to her neck, praying that she wouldn't pull away as he drew a deep draught of her scent. Heaven. She smelled of Heaven – or did Heaven smell of her?

  "You are a sexy devil, aren't you?" Mel laughed, shaking her head.

  Luce shrugged. "I have no idea what I am now, but still sexy, I'm sure."

  Mel filled the kettle and clicked it on, but nothing happened. She flicked the switch a couple of times, with no result. Next, she tried to switch on the kitchen light – unnecessary with the bright morning sunlight streaming in – but that didn't work, either. "The power must still be out from last night," Mel murmured, frowning.

  "The power's out? When did that happen?" Luce asked. "Must have slept through that."

  "No," Mel said softly. "We did it. We...blew the transformer when we kissed. I hope it isn't too much trouble to repair. I'll have to remember not to redeem demons in the house again if it is." She smiled, but Luce thought she looked a little sad, too. "How are you feeling this morning?"

  "Better than I have in years," Luce admitted, grinning. "A couple more nights like last night and I'll feel like the king of the world again." The look of horror on Mel's face made him realise what he'd said. He held up both hands in surrender. "I mean that in a purely metaphorical sense. I gave that up – I swear."

  Mel nodded gravely, but she still didn't seem convinced.

  "Look, let me make you breakfast. A small thank you for everything you've done for me. Power-hungry demons don't make you breakfast, right?"

  "What are you going to make, given that the power's out? I can't even make tea," she said.

  Luce eyed the gas stove. "Where do you keep your pots and pans?"

  Mel pointed at the cupboard bes
ide the stove. Luce rummaged through it until he found a saucepan and a frypan. He filled the pot with water before setting both on the stove. He turned the control knobs for the burners, hearing the hiss of gas but not the click of the igniter.

  "The ignition is electric," Mel said. "It won't work."

  "Maybe not for an angel like you, but I've been playing with fire for a very long time," Luce said grimly, touching his index fingers to the gas jets. Both burst into brilliant blue flame. He scooped a tiny flickering tongue of flame onto his fingertip, lifting it to show Mel. She stared at it as if mesmerised.

  "Angels can't do that," she said softly, looking worried. "Luce..."

  He laughed and blew out the flame. "Maybe I'm not entirely redeemed after all." He peered into his pants. "Yep, I'm still up for a bit of action on the couch – and I am seriously hot." A wisp of smoke curled up from his extinguished finger.

  Mel laughed, but her heart didn't seem in it. She was hiding something, Luce decided, but there was no point in trying to push it out of her. It must be something to do with her early morning phone call.

  "So what are you making me for breakfast?" she asked.

  "Got eggs and milk? Mushrooms, bacon, ham, cheese...anything I can fold into an omelette?"

  "I have all but the bacon," Mel said warmly, opening the dark fridge.

  Together, they laid out the ingredients for a decadent omelette, before Luce insisted that Mel sit down and let him do the work. She laughed a little but acquiesced, settling into one of the dining chairs in the alcove just beyond the kitchen.

  Luce opened the tiny tin of mushrooms and drained it. He started slicing them, pausing occasionally to smile at the watching angel.

  The longer he looked, the more he saw. Mel wasn't beautiful in a classic or a modern sense, so she didn't stand out. She wasn't ugly, either – he'd call her pretty. Her form fitted the soul it contained, sure, for her radiant smile shone through that face like the sun itself. He wondered why she hadn't chosen a more striking body – it was almost as if she were trying to blend in or hide among humans. An angel with power like hers faced little danger from anyone. What or who could she possibly be hiding from?

  He became aware of a stinging pain in his finger. "Ow...oh shit!" Instead of cutting a mushroom, he'd hacked off half his own fingertip. Red blood was leaking across the cutting board, creeping closer to the mushrooms.

  Luce stared in fascination. He hadn't seen red blood flow from his veins since...since the night he fell. The blows from Michael's sword had burned as they cut, and he could remember seeing his own blood on his hands. The last thing he saw before he fell...and his blood had been black ever since. Until now.

  "Luce. It's all right," Mel soothed, her hands prying the knife from his. His blood tainted her fingers, yet she didn't shrink from it.

  He tried to pull his hand away, his mind whirling at what to do. Hospital. He should get to a hospital, where they'd be able to stitch his finger back together. Before he lost too much blood.

  Mel's fingers felt like steel – stronger than any set of handcuffs he owned – yet her hands were smaller and slimmer than his. He couldn't break her grip, even as she brought her other hand toward his severed finger. Sickened, he saw the bone between the blood and tissue, before her hand hid his from sight. Some of the salt had seeped into the wound and the stinging became unbearable.

  "Stop," he gasped. "Please. Take me to hospital. Need some painkillers and they can fix this."

  "Kiss me," Mel murmured. "It will help."

  Luce snorted. "How?" Half the word was swallowed by her lips connecting with his. His whole hand was on fire and her kiss was just a pleasant distraction, but not enough. Tears of pain coursed down his cheeks – he could taste the salt and he was sure Mel could, too, but she continued to kiss him as she kept his hand captive.

  He broke away from her. "Mel. Please..." He was embarrassed to hear it come out sounding like a sob. It felt like his hand was going numb from the blood loss – or was it Mel's strong grip?

  "Here, let me wash the blood away so I can get a better look," she said, pulling him toward the sink. Cool water trickled across his skin and he didn't dare look at the damage, though it wasn't hurting as much. Perhaps the cool water had numbed it further.

  She forced his injured hand up between them, level with her lips. She started to kiss his fingers. First his thumb, then his index finger. He felt the touch of her tongue on the tip of his middle finger, dreading the pain when she touched his next, injured finger.

  "Mel, please, stop," he begged. This was worse than the humiliation Persephone put him through. But Mel was an angel, the kindest he'd ever met. She wouldn't hurt him like this...

  He felt another tear slip out of the corner of his eye as he squeezed them tightly shut, the tiniest defence against the pain he knew was coming.

  Her lips grazed his pinkie, then pulled away. He could feel her breath on his hand as she said, "Open your eyes, Luce."

  He knew what was next, but he heard the command in her tone and he had to obey. He couldn't not do it. Her fingers shielded his, so he couldn't see the last joint of his finger just hanging, blood trickling... He felt his knuckle graze her lips and wondered what in Hell she was doing.

  "But you're an angel. An angel, Mel. Please..."

  She set his finger alight as she gently sucked on the length of it, from base to tip. He fancied he could feel her tongue tickling his injured fingertip, but that wasn't possible – he'd seen the severed nerve. He'd seen...

  He saw her pull his finger from her mouth, whole and healed as if it had never happened. He'd been able to heal when he was an angel, but never as fast or as perfectly as this. "How?" he gasped.

  Her eyes held him. "Love, Luce. When you love someone, you'd do anything for them. Take away their pain. Heal their hurts. Lift them when they fall. Help them when they need you most. Love is my greatest strength, Luce, and I love you." There was power in her voice – he was under no illusions that it was anyone less than Muriel of the Hashmallim who had him mesmerised.

  Giddy from the blood loss, misty-eyed at the heavy attraction for both Mel and the power she held over him, Luce couldn't think straight. He didn't have to. He seized her in an embrace that would have crushed a weaker woman. Not Mel. Her body was firm against him – not resisting, but not compliant, either. His kiss was clumsy and rough, but she responded as if he'd been skilful and seductive, for she was both.

  He wanted her...oh Hell, how he wanted her. Blearily, he peered over her shoulder at the couch. He wouldn't make it that far. Maybe if he lifted her onto the bench...His back slammed into the fridge and he forgot about the bench. Mel's body pinned his to the metal and it didn't matter where as long as it was now. Oh God, MEL...

  She released him and he almost fell. He stared at her, hurt. What had he done wrong?

  "The water's boiling and we should probably turn both burners off if we're not going to use them," Mel said, wiping her mouth with her hand. She looked as flushed as he felt, but her grin showed no guilt.

  Luce glanced at the stove. The water was boiling over – hissing into steam as it threatened to extinguish the burner flame beneath it. How had he missed the sound?

  "I'll make us some tea and you make breakfast. We need to get into the city for that meeting at ten," Mel said, regret in her tone.

  "And maybe later we can finish what we started?" Luce asked eagerly.

  "Yes. Later, Luce." The look she gave him held unmistakeable love. No one had ever looked at him like that before.

  His heart swelled in his chest. Miracles did happen. He was an angel again and Mel loved HIM.

  Dressed in his still slightly damp suit, Luce slid into his car. He'd parked it halfway up Mel's street, in the only available spot, but the walk seemed a lot shorter now in dry daylight with Mel by his side. He couldn't keep the smile off his face as she climbed into the passenger seat beside him.

  Her eyes were serious. "If you drive like a maniac, I will get out and
walk. You only get one warning."

  He winked. "Yes, ma'am. I'll be the smoothest chauffeur you ever had, I swear. I'll have you naked in the back seat before you can – "

  "Luce. That really is enough."

  He waited for her to click her seatbelt into place over her pale grey suit skirt before he pulled his black Jaguar smoothly out of the tight space, letting his blissful mood infuse his driving. He was in no hurry.

  Mel watched the traffic as he drove, occasionally glancing at him but shifting her gaze before he could meet her eyes. He wondered what he'd missed of her telephone conversation before he'd interrupted and what sort of favour she'd be asking for – and from whom.

  He turned into the HELL Corporation garage entrance, swiping his passcard to open the gate as he nodded to the guard. He drove automatically to his personal car bay on the second level down, only to stop in shock as he saw it occupied by a bright yellow smart car.

  "Persi's car," Mel said.

  Luce yanked the steering wheel around and parked his car in the general HELL Corporation space beside the tiny irritant in his parking spot. He sat glowering at it and all it symbolised, before realising that Mel stood outside his door, waiting. He hurried to get out so she wouldn't leave without him, but she didn't seem to be in a hurry. He locked the car and turned on the alarm at a touch. Mel extended her hand toward him.

  He held out the keys, unsure. "What do you want?" An unfamiliar desire to give her anything she asked for swept over him, confusing him even more.

  She smiled gently. "Your hand, Luce. I'd like to walk down the street, holding your hand, if you don't mind. I don't keep secrets easily – I prefer an open declaration, where possible."

  He shoved the keys in his pocket and grabbed her hand. "Let's go."

  Mel's laughter echoed through the underground car park, but Luce liked the sound. There was no cruelty in it – she laughed for joy, he knew.