Razr: A Demonica Underworld Novella

by Larissa Ione

  He shifted, wincing at the slightest motion, and she sighed in resignation. After all, a girl had to bring home the wrong guy at least once in her life, didn’t she? And hey, he’d tried to warn her, tried to get her out of the dinner party before everything went to hell. If she’d listened instead of arguing, maybe she wouldn’t be in this mess.

  She owed him for trying.

  Plus, he seemed to know a lot about the Gems of Enoch. It made her a little nervous, but at the same time, she’d love to learn more. She and her sisters had only discovered them because they’d felt them in use, and they’d stolen them before they’d learned what they were. Since that day a century ago, Jedda had done as much research as possible, but very little was known about them.

  Seemed that very few angels published books about their greatest weapons. Go figure.

  After she finished patching him up, she went to the kitchen to prepare something to eat and to plan her next move. Clearly Shrike was serious about getting what he wanted, and if he’d really enveloped her in some sort of sacrificial demonic magic, she was in trouble. Maybe she could get her hands on the horn he wanted, but there was no way she could give him her gem, even if she wanted to. It was part of her. It was why her heart was beating and her blood was pumping.

  Without it, she would die. The thing that sucked, though, was that if she didn’t give it to him, the result would probably be the same.

  Chapter Seven

  Coffee. Fuck, Razr needed coffee.

  That was always his first thought when he woke up. Even as an angel waking up in Heaven, he’d wanted that uniquely human beverage that so many of his angelic brethren turned their noses up at. Hot, cold, black, with milk...it didn’t matter to Razr. Just hand it over or get out of the way.

  He yawned, opened his eyes and blinked, startled at the sight of Jedda sitting in a chair next to the bed he was currently sprawling in. He’d dreamed about her, except she hadn’t been wearing a bright turquoise silk blouse and shimmering black leggings that showed off toned thighs and calves like she was now.

  She’d been naked. Her luxurious silver-blue hair had blanketed her perky breasts, but everything else had been gloriously free of any kind of covering. She’d been walking on a beach of white sand and pink shells, and as she sauntered up to him, she’d held out his Enoch diamond.

  Razr had extended his hand... But he still didn’t know if he’d been wanting the gem––or her. The dream had flickered away as consciousness interrupted.

  “Hey, you.” Jedda reached for a pitcher of water on the bedside table. “You weren’t out as long as I thought you’d be. You heal fast.”

  Confused, he rolled onto his side and pushed up on an elbow, feeling the pinch of something on his back. Bandages. She’d bandaged him? “Where am I?”

  “I brought you to my place.” She poured water into a glass and handed it to him. “I couldn’t just leave you there bleeding on Shrike’s floor. Who knows what he’d have done to you?”

  His stomach rumbled—he’d missed the sacrificial dinner, after all—and he took a drink of water to quell it. It wasn’t coffee, but he wasn’t going to complain to someone who had helped him out.

  “Where are my weapons and clothes?” When she pointed at a pile on the floor, he relaxed and set the glass down. “How did you get me here? And where is here?”

  She offered a small smile. “I’m stronger than I look, and here is London.”

  Oh, right. He’d gotten that info when he’d gone to Scotland. “Near your shop?”

  She shrugged. “It’s walking distance in good weather. One stop on the Tube in bad weather. But this is England, so I ride the Tube a lot.” She made a circular gesture with one bejeweled finger. Besides her gem-encrusted fingernails, she wore a lot of rings. As many as three on each finger. “Turn over and I’ll remove the bandages.”

  He could do it himself, and he didn’t generally like taking orders, but he suddenly wanted very much to have her tending to him. Touching him. The dream was still fresh in his mind, so what the hell.

  Besides, while it was technically forbidden for angels to fraternize with demons, he was, for all intents and purposes, considered a fallen angel. Which meant all bets were off, and Heaven could suck it.

  She could suck it.

  Groaning at the inappropriately erotic thought, he flipped onto his stomach, and oh, look at that, he was naked. She’d stripped him bare and he hadn’t awakened? That had happened only once before, when Zhubaal had carried him from Azagoth’s office after a particularly brutal flogging and laid him out on his bed in Sheoul-gra. He’d awakened confused and sore, but at least he’d been in his own bed.

  “So.” The mattress dipped as she sat next to him, her warm thigh pressing against his hip through the purple satin sheet. She liked her jewel tones, didn’t she? Everything in the room, from the bright citrine lampshade to the jade rug and ruby wall accents screamed, I hate subtle color and earth tones. “What’s the deal with this punishment thing?”

  His cheeks heated with humiliation. “I did something stupid, and I got in trouble for it.”

  “Yeah, I guessed that much. Must have been pretty bad to get you kicked out of Heaven and to be cursed with eternal punishment.”

  “I also spent a few decades in prison,” he muttered into the pillow.

  His two team members, Ebel and Darlah, had rotted in jail with him while all their fates were decided. Ebel had been released first, with no restrictions on his power and without an Azdai glyph. It had taken him only two years to track down his gemstone and destroy one of the thieves who’d stolen it from him, but the amethyst had been tainted by the evil of the one who had possessed it, an evil that darkened his soul and turned him against his own kind.

  He’d been hunted down and slaughtered. His gem and his pendant now sat uselessly in some archangel’s office until the other two Gems of Enoch could be recovered and a new team could be formed.

  Next, they’d released Darlah to find her gem, but this time, she’d been hobbled like Razr, her wings—and consequently, her power—bound, and she’d been branded with an Azdai glyph.

  She’d disappeared three years later and was presumed dead.

  Now it was Razr’s turn. Returning to Heaven with his gem would redeem him. Returning with both his diamond and Darlah’s garnet would make him a hero. Heaven would once again have the three Enoch stones, and he could put together another team to combat demons.

  He needed those stones, and one was within his grasp. He just had to exercise a little patience and be smart.

  Jedda’s finger smoothed over the bandages, and he nearly purred. No one had touched him like that since Darlah. And even then, their relationship had been sexual, frantic, and intense, with zero intimate moments. At least, not by his definition of intimate.

  “Can I ask what you did?”

  He inhaled sharply, wondering how to play this. He could lie, tell the truth, employ avoidance... He had a few options. In the end, he settled on a generic version of the truth, figuring that offering a little information might help him draw info out of her, as well.

  “I was part of an elite demon-slaying team. We got careless one day, and our carelessness cost lives and property.”

  Anger and regret burned through his veins at the memory. They’d been battling hordes of demons advancing on a shithole village in what was now Somalia, and Razr had ordered Ebel to station the stones and their human guardians on the edge of town near Razr and his team. But Ebel had misunderstood, placing the trio of humans and gems in the center of town, leaving them out of sight and vulnerable to demons who somehow slipped through the barrier generated by Razr’s Enoch diamond. It had been a clusterfuck of epic proportions, and one Razr would never forget. Not even his dreams gave him respite from the sight of the death and destruction.

  “I’m sorry,” Jedda said softly. “I know exactly what that’s like. I lost my entire family because I was careless too.”

  “They’re dead?”

>   She peeled a bandage away with surprising tenderness. He’d have ripped the sucker off. “My parents and one sister are. My other sister and I might as well be strangers.”

  Okay, so now he had to know. “What kind of demon are you?”

  She shifted, planting one warm palm on his waist, and his body stirred to sudden, hot life. Beneath his hips, his shaft swelled, and the satiny sheet rubbing it like a caress made it even worse.

  “I’m not a demon.”

  He laughed. “Bullshit.”

  “I’m not.” She pulled off another strip of bandage, and he welcomed the slight burn of the adhesive tugging on his skin. He needed the distraction. Badly. “I’m a gem elf.”

  “A what?” Talk about a distraction.

  “A gem elf,” she said slowly, as if he was hard of hearing. Or a toddler.

  “I heard you. I just don’t know what a gem elf is.”

  “Aren’t angels supposed to know everything?”

  How cute. Angels seemed to be kept in the dark about everything. “Obviously not,” he said, adjusting his hips to accommodate his pinched erection. “But I do know you’re a demon.”

  She removed another bandage, this time less gently. A lot less gently. “I think I’d know if I was a demon.”

  “How would you know?” he shot back. “Does a giraffe know it’s a giraffe? Have you been classified by science or Baradoc, the demonologist?”

  She huffed in indignation, and he hid his smile in the pillow. “My people aren’t part of the demon or human worlds. We don’t have any kind of corresponding religions or lore. We even have our own realm.”

  He snorted. “Angels don’t know everything, but we are familiar with all the realms. If there was an elven realm, I’d know.”

  “That’s pretty arrogant.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m an angel. A fallen angel,” he corrected.

  “Angel or not, you’re an asshole,” she muttered, and he laughed. She was adorable. And clearly, a demon. So was she lying to him or did she truly believe she was an elf?

  A fucking elf. Ridiculous.

  Her fingers fluttered over his bare shoulder blades, and he went taut at the first probe of the scar-like streaks from which his wings would emerge if they weren’t bound.

  “What are these?”

  “Those are wing anchors.”

  “That’s where they cut your wings off?” There was a startling note of sadness in her voice that left him off balance. She didn’t know him. Not really. And yet, she felt bad for him? “I’d have thought they’d have healed by now. When did you fall?”

  “A couple of years ago,” he hedged, not wanting to get into this, especially because his wings hadn’t been severed. Just bound so tightly with special golden twine that they ached every minute of every day.

  “But the stitches––”

  He sat up quickly to change the subject, but the sudden move knocked her off balance and sent her sprawling on the floor. Right on top of the insanely bright rug.

  “Oh, shit.” He leaped off the bed to help her up. “Sorry. I...” He trailed off as he lifted her to her feet, the look on her face as she stared at him leaving him even more off balance than before.

  Those amazing eyes glittered as she took in his nudity. His cock, already rock hard, jerked under her gaze. Desire hammered through him, becoming a rapid pounding in his groin that grew more intense the longer they stood there, both frozen by what was happening.

  He wanted her. He’d wanted her since the first moment he’d seen her, even though he’d believed that things could only end badly between them. Especially if she was responsible for the theft of his gem and the death of its human host, a young man named Nabebe whom Razr had all but raised.

  But dammit, he liked Jedda, and he was beginning to doubt she’d had anything to do with the events that got him banished from Heaven. As a gem dealer, she could have acquired the Enoch diamond at any time during the last century or so, and it made sense that she’d deny knowing anything about it, given that the most powerful forces in Heaven and Sheoul were after it. Hell, Razr had even heard that Satan had put out feelers before he was locked away by Revenant, Sheoul’s new king, and his brother, Reaver, the most famous battle angel in history.

  But she’s a demon. You hate demons. You were born to fight them. To destroy them.

  Yes, that was true. But during Razr’s service to Azagoth, he’d been around enough demons to know that they weren’t one-size-fits-all. Baby battle angels cut their teeth on the knowledge that all demons were pure evil and must be destroyed, but he knew better now. Just like humans, each demon was unique down to the depth of malice or decency in their souls.

  He’d bet that Jedda was one of the decent ones.

  Her face tilted up, and his knees nearly buckled at the need that turned the clear ice blue of her eyes into opaque azure pools. She wanted this as badly as he did.

  “I don’t usually do this,” she whispered in a shaky voice that punched him in the place deep inside that made him male.

  “I don’t either,” he whispered back.

  “I…I can’t get pregnant,” she said softly. “Not until I absorb an azurite.”

  He had no idea what the hell she was talking about, but it didn’t matter. Fertility had been one of the things taken from him when his wings were bound. No illegal half-demon babies for him.

  Dying to taste her—and to get away from an incredibly uncomfortable subject—he lowered his mouth to hers.

  He’d intended the kiss to be gentle. Exploratory. But she wasn’t having any of that.

  Throwing her arms around him, she deepened the kiss, her tongue meeting his in a violent clash. Her legs came up and wrapped around his hips, and he hissed at the feel of her warm center grinding against his hard length. She undulated wildly, her firm breasts pressing against the hard wall of his chest. Man, she felt good. So good he had to slide a hand between their bodies to reduce the friction that was threatening to ruin this whole thing.

  She moaned at the contact of his fingers on her core, so he pressed against the fabric of her leggings, letting his touch both soothe and inflame. The scent of her arousal stoked his, making him crazy, making him want more.

  Now.

  He spun her against the wall and, using only his severely reduced angelic powers, he lifted her up next to a painting of loose rubies and a pearl necklace spilling out of a gold chalice. The surprise in her eyes turned hot as she hung there, exposed to his gaze and his mercy. With his hands free and her body pinned so she could barely squirm, he peeled off her leggings, leaving her only in her silk shirt and bright aquamarine lace underwear.

  Stunning.

  His mouth watered as he skimmed his palms up her creamy thighs and hooked his thumbs under the elastic of her panties.

  “Yes,” she breathed, her body quivering with anticipation. “Touch me.”

  She said it as if he was capable of resisting. No chance of that. He’d love to take the time to tease her, to make her beg, but he was like a man who had been wandering in a scorching desert for days and who had just come upon an oasis.

  Greedily, he pushed one thumb between her folds and stroked her silky moisture through her slit, circling her swollen nub before dropping lower to penetrate her deeply. She threw her head back and arched into his hand as much as the angelic hold on her would allow.

  Damn, she was beautiful, her hair whipping around her face as she tossed her head, her cheeks glowing with a rosy tinge that matched the color of her tongue as she held it between her clenched teeth.

  Eager for more, he tugged off her panties, careful to not tear them when they caught around her ankles. As he straightened, he kissed and licked his way up her leg, savoring her smooth skin and every little catch of her breath. His own breathing was labored, his heartbeat hammering inside his rib cage as if urging him on. Not one to ignore the signals his body was sending him, he flicked his tongue over the swollen hills of Jedda’s sex. At her cry of ecstasy, he
dipped his tongue into her slick valley, making her cry out again and making his cock jerk with the first stirrings of orgasm. He didn’t want this to end, wanted to lick her until she begged him to stop, but it had been a long time since he’d been with a female, and his body was humiliatingly ready to go off.

  With a snarl of both regret and anticipation, he roughly parted her thighs and entered her in one smooth motion. His power still held her against the wall, so he planted his forearms next to her head and steadied himself as he surged against her.

  “Razriel,” she moaned, jolting him out of his lust with the use of his angel name, but only until she locked her legs around his waist and arched, taking him so deep he didn’t think they’d ever come untangled.

  His blood pumped like he was in battle, adrenaline searing his veins and skin until every part of him felt more alive than he’d been in years. Decades. His balls throbbed and tightened, and panting, he pounded into her, her delicate whimpers mingling with his groans of pleasure.

  She came with no warning, stiffening against him, a muffled shout tearing from her throat. Her silken sheath squeezed him, catapulting him into his own electric explosion of ecstasy that made him see colors that put her hyper-bright room and clothes to shame.

  As they came down, he realized he’d released the power that held her against the wall, and now she clung to him so tightly that not even a drop of perspiration could get between them.

  Damn, that had been good.

  “You know,” she murmured into his neck, “you never told me why you tracked me down at the conference and what it is you wanted me to find for you.”

  This probably wasn’t the time to show his hand, but he didn’t have to bluff, either. “Must be something in the air,” he said, pulling back just enough to gauge her response in her expression, “because I actually want what Shrike wants.”

  She stiffened against him, and panic flared in her eyes. “I don’t understand.”