Repossessors of Souls: Expendable Pawns

by Danae Ayusso

  “That is a very long time,” he pointed out and one of his hands knotted in my hair, but he made no attempt at stopping me.

  I tugged his pants down and fought to keep from squealing like a giddy girl with new shoes.

  Oh so beautiful...and it’s mine!

  “And it isn’t nearly long enough,” I informed him and wrapped my hand around his impressive member and slowly teased his body with a slow, steady rhythm. “I don’t ever want to hear you say those three words,” I told him.

  “Why?” Angelus asked, looking at me curiously.

  “We have the worst luck in the universe, and I don’t want to fuck this up, now shut up and enjoy the ride.” I smiled before lowering my head down to meet his hardened cock and my lips around him and I started working my mouth up and down his angelic love sword—Loke’s words, not mine.

  For hours we explored each other in the hottest, most aggressive, passionate foreplay I’ve ever had. And each time I thought that I couldn’t take any more and was ready to collapse from exhaustion, Angelus would do something that would instantly have me attacking him again: pulling my hair, biting my nipple harder than needed, slapping my ass, clawing my back, bringing me to the edge of a mind numbing, out of body orgasm and abruptly stopping, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look at me as his fingers caressing up and down my stomach.

  Had I mentioned how much I hated my angel?

  But, I had to admit, as much abuse as he was dishing out, I was giving it ten times fold. It looked like he was attacked by some kind of crazed, fanged animal with razor sharp claws! Angelus never complained…okay, that was a total lie. He threw a chair at me when I walked off right as he was on the verge of climaxing. Again, when I wouldn’t let him get out of the shower after the water had turned cold while I gave him head, he pulled my hair and slapped my ass but I wouldn’t budge.

  Yes, all of that was lovely and nice and beyond anything I could have imagined with Angelus of all angels, but it was nothing compared to when he finally lowered me down to the bed that was knocked across the room, and tenderly kissed me. His fingers intertwined with mine, and he whispered, “Do I have permission to indulge in what I have been dreaming of since the moment your soul illuminated the darkness in my heart?”

  I tried to laugh at his wording, but the sentiment behind his words brought me to tears. No one had ever asked before. They just assumed or we got caught up in the moment. Angelus knew of my dysfunctions. He had witnessed them firsthand through my dossier, and he respected me; yet another thing that I never experienced with another before.

  For being old as dirt, all of this was new to me.

  “Shh,” Angelus whispered before the tip of his tongue followed the path of the tear rolling from my eye. “It is okay, I will not hurt you,” he assured me, even though that wasn’t my problem in the slightest. “Rest and we will get some pie.”

  Stubbornly I shook my head. “No. I don’t want pie. I only want you.”

  What I thought would have caused a smile to stretch across his face didn’t, and it dropped.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, sounding self-conscious.

  “I’ve been waiting centuries,” I informed him. “I’ve been awaiting for you since the moment of my first breath and will continue to love you well after my last. It’s always been you, you stubborn, cynical, rude, condescending angel. And it will forever only be you.”

  And that was it.

  The smile I had been waiting centuries to see filled his face.

  We both gasped when he slid inside of me, his thick cock stretching me in the most delicious way possible, and Angelus tightened his grip on my hands. It felt as if a piece of me that I hadn’t known was missing was suddenly put into place, my heart swelled with warmth and love, and my soul felt complete for the first time in my life. I lost count of how many times he pushed me over the edge of euphoria, the battle over who owned who was constant, which was ironic considering he owned me mind, body and soul, and he was well aware of it...I wasn’t complaining in the least.

  I watched the sunset bent over the back of the couch; my hair was wrapped around his wrist causing my back to arch as much as inhumanly possible while his wings stretched out behind him. And Angelus watched the sunrise as I braced myself against the wall of windows, giving that particular block of SoHo a nice view of my ass and everything else that the angel passionately slamming me didn’t concern himself with at that moment.

  Eventually we both collapsed in a sweaty pile of flesh and feathers on the floor. We were both struggling to catch our breath and it was rather amusing to me that we just did that, for nearly twenty-six hours straight, with the front door wide open, two dead repo men in the room, and barely any words being exchanged between us.

  Angelus looked over at me and smiled so I punched him. “Ow,” he complained, rubbing his jaw.

  “You’re welcome,” I said with a smirk.

  Content I sighed as I flipped through the outdated fashion magazine in front of me, and my feet kicked freely in the air behind me. With a warm croissant loaded with camembert, apples and dried cranberries in the one hand, and a steaming Americano in the other, and the softly snoring angel curled up beside me, I was completely content and in my own personal Heaven.

  For the first time since meeting him, he actually looked like an angel. The early morning sun was basking him in light that made his skin slightly luminescent. The soft sprouting of hair covering his head appeared darker somehow, and thankfully all of the bruising and damage inflicted to his body by the repo men, but mainly me, was gone, and he looked completely content.

  There was nothing in the fridge; it wasn’t even plugged in, that wasn’t a surprise in the least, so I had to call for takeout. The artist two floors down didn’t mind that I asked to use his phone, most likely because I was naked, and the delivery guy really didn’t appear to care that I hadn’t any cash to pay for my order; you’ve got to love having nice tits in NYC.

  “Where did you find food?” Angelus mumbled from next to me before kissing my arm.

  “I used my Zion Express Card!” I smiled wide and slid the boxed pastries across the floor at him. “They didn’t have falafel this early in the morning, sorry.” I wasn’t sorry in the least; that shit stinks.

  He stretched out on his back before rolling to his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “I hate falafel,” he said.

  I glared at him, and he smirked.

  “I was trying to hate you, remember?” he reminded me as he absently caressed the backs of his fingers up and down the side of my ribs, teasingly caressing the side of my breast with each pass. “I did not do a very good job,” he admitted.

  “Not really,” I agreed, sliding a cup of coffee over to him. “But you nearly made up for it with the twenty-six hour sex-a-thon.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “Do we really have to do this?” I asked, changing the subject since he obviously didn’t want to talk about what he just did. I was praying that he wasn’t suddenly regretting it. “Can’t we just take off and screw around, literally, for the next thousand-years?” I pouted.

  Angelus pushed my pouting bottom lip back in with his finger. “Yes, we do. They will pull both of our contracts and kill us, and then what would be the point?”

  There was no way in hell I would admit aloud that he was right.

  “I will go,” he said. “Loke will hide you on Asgard where Lucifer and the others cannot find you.”

  I looked at him with wide eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

  The look he gave me silently conveyed that he was.

  “It is the only way to keep you safe, Zion,” he said, “and I promised centuries ago that I would keep you safe so I have to do this.”

  I nodded, to his surprise. “You’re totally right,” I agreed with a snort and turned my attention back to the magazine in front of me. “Go throw yourself on the blade, and I will win my dollar back and all will be well in Zion-Land. It was a good ride while it
lasted, huh?” I looked over at him, and he was glaring at me. “Oh well, to live and lose is better than to have never lived at all....I think I messed up or imposed something on that quote, but whatever, you know what I mean.”

  “Are you fucking with me because you can?” he demanded.

  “Yes,” I sang, and to my surprise, he bit my shoulder and I moaned. “Don’t we have a bunch of assholes to kill today?” I asked with a throaty moan as his mouth worked across my shoulder in a combination of licks, kisses, and soft bites. “Stop trying to distract me,” I scolded and smacked the top of his head, and he growled. “I’m not going to let you kill yourself for me, you sullen angelic prick!” I pushed him off of me then straddled him—totally not helping the situation—“I may have your soul, well guess what, Chief, you have mine, so unless you want to kill both of us with your ass-backwards attempt at saving me, shut up, throw it in me, and let’s go shoot some shit up!” I smiled wide, and he glared at me.

  “I do not want your soul,” Angelus said.

  “You are the biggest liar I have ever met,” I said then made a face at him, and he rolled his eyes. “Besides, I never take anything back that was a gift, and it was a gift so you can’t take it back. I lost the receipt, got it?” I flicked his nose and he snorted. “I’m serious,” I smugly informed him. “I’ve never, not once, taken back a gift so you’re stuck with it...with me.”

  He gave me that notorious Angelus look that conveyed he was slightly amused, but wasn’t about to let me know that. “You are well aware that my only concern is your safety and well-being, and since I do not know if this will work, that makes me even more apprehensive about putting you in danger with this insane plan.”

  Angelus, once again had a point, and his words were romantic in an overbearing sort of cynical-angel way.

  “We’ll discuss it later,” I said and started rocking my hips and moaned from the stimulating arousal hardening under me, and Angelus glared. “What?” I asked as innocently as possible as I twirled a lock of hair around my fingers. “You act as if you just met me, Angelus, and as I told you before, I don’t want to die a virgin.”

  Angelus sat up, his hands gripping onto my hips and he lifted me up.

  I pouted.

  But to my surprise, Angelus resituated me then lowered me back down, and I shuddered in his arms as my lashes fluttered.

  “Stop with the virgin talk, please,” he pleaded. “The images from your dossier are still very vivid in my mind.”

  And he started to go soft.

  Damn it.

  “You are the first person I have ever made love to,” I whispered, and he started to stiffen up again. “And you are the only person, not to sound like a romanticized chick, that I want to make love to, so stop trying to get yourself killed and let’s end this.”

  And it was rock hard like a porn star!

  “Yes ma’am,” he smirked against my lips then kissed me so passionately that it knocked us back to the floor, and we started where we left off last night.

  ***

  I emptied the garbage bag of clothes out that Angelus had pilfered from my place and started laughing. The man didn’t coordinate anything: it was all black, but he didn’t match designers, which was super annoying. I held up the only two items that weren’t black and raised an eyebrow, smirking at the angel watching me.

  “Pink, really?”

  Angelus shrugged. “I came across it when that little perv was playing in your underwear drawers. And I would not call it pink, per se. It is gray lace with pink under it.”

  I will admit, that was cute and slightly creepy romantic.

  “Are you saying you’d like to see me in it?”

  “No,” he answered curtly, and my face fell. “I like you much better naked… Um….damn it,” he snarled then turned away from me and went to check the locks on the door again.

  “Thanks for the lovely compliment,” I grumbled, but blushed; that was a total compliment coming from him. I quickly put the gray and pink underwear set on and slipped into the black pants and tank top he packed. “I look like I’m an extra in a spy movie,” I complained, pulling my hair back into a high ponytail; not something I did, ever, but we were going to kill some shit so it seemed appropriate. “My boobs totally look Laura Croft’esque. I like it!” I smiled wide, and he looked at me with a dumbfounded expression. “It’s a video game and movie,” I explained, but he didn’t get it so I slumped back down on the floor and looked for shoes.

  And it looked as if he didn’t pack any. Lord knows he remembered to match the underwear to something he liked, but he didn’t pack the most important, next to accessories, which he didn’t pack either, item needed for this suicide mission?!

  I hate men.

  “My shoes aren’t in the hallway, are they?” I mumbled.

  “No.”

  Damn it!

  “What do you suggest?” I reluctantly asked.

  To my surprise, Angelus headed across the loft to the kitchen and started digging through the cabinets.

  “I am not wearing garbage bags on my feet,” I warned.

  “Even I would not subject you to such derogation,” he admitted. “I was going… I, whatever,” he grumbled and tossed a box to me. “And they are strappy,” he mumbled as he returned to the door to check the locks again.

  I opened the box, not paying attention to the actual box, and squealed like a little girl at Christmas. Inside the gray box, with the silver embossed logo on the lid that read JIMMY CHOO, was the pumps I had been throwing a complete bitch fit about not being able to get, and they were even more beautiful than in the pictures. Tenderly I caressed the Elaphe Snake skin, the velvety soft material sent shivers down my spine, and the corset lacing was even more beautiful on my foot than I had envisioned.

  “Are you crying?” Angelus asked, appalled.

  “No,” I sniveled, wiping my hand across my eyes. “I got dust in my eye or something.”

  “You are crying over shoes?” he scoffed.

  “Yeah, so what? Leave me alone.”

  “Of all the things,” he complained and threw his hands up in frustration and started pacing, mumbling under his breath something about silly girls and their stupid shoes.

  I laid on the couch and stuck my legs in the air and admired the way my feet looked in my new Jimmy Choos. “I totally need to get a pedicure when we are done,” I called out. “Wait, you can never own…screw it, you don’t do shoes anyways. Thank you so much. They are perfect.”

  Angelus appeared next to the couch and looked down at me. “Will you be able to run and fight in those?”

  “Duh,” I scoffed and gave him Zion’s you just asked the dumbest question in the world look. “I was practically born in high heels...speaking of,” I punched him in the leg, “why didn’t you tell me Adramelech is my father?”

  He softly smacked me back. “Obviously my dossier failed to show you that he warned me against doing so.”

  “It showed me,” I admitted.

  “Then why would you ask?”

  “Rhetorical?” I glared at him.

  He smirked. “You are learning.”

  Tell me again why I love this jackass?

  “What I don’t understand is who the woman was and why she helped you but cursed you at the same time?” I asked the two things that didn’t make sense to me in the least.

  Angelus’ head tilted to the side. “Cursed?” he said under his breath.

  I nodded. “Yeah, it was a curse. It’s the curse of...” I drummed my fingers on my chin trying to remember. “I read it centuries ago in one of the grimoires in Adramelech’s library. Huh...Oh! It’s ridiculous, but it’s called the Curse of Philanthropy. It’s an angelic curse that was originally meant to punish those that….damn it, I can’t remember.”

  “Punish those that were falsely acting in the name of God,” he whispered. “Zaapiel was punished with it, hence why he was rendered mortal. Not that it matters, though what I do not understand is how a demon could
have done that to an angel, or anyone. It is a curse of pure intention turned wrong and my intention was always pure.”

  That was news to me, so I shrugged. “Sorry, can we uncurse you?”

  Angelus looked at me as if he had forgotten that I was even there. “Uncurse, are you making up words now?”

  “Yeah,” I said then smirked. “Do you think it will catch on?”

  “No,” he said in a clipped tone so I pinched his nipple and he growled, slapping my hand away. “What weapons do you have at your disposal since you are strangely full of surprises in the arsenal department?” he asked, knocking my legs down so he could sit on the couch.

  I sat up and made a face at him. “Rhetorical?”

  He shook his head. “No, I need to know.”

  I huffed. “Adramelech gave me many weapons from the point that I initially got to earth till the other day. The couple that took me from you and put me up for a decade, which I accidently killed because of the nightmares,” I cringed, and he nodded his understanding, “they had a care package waiting for me. Some weapons, grimoires, clothing and money...things like that. They didn’t tell me that it was from him, but I knew it was. For centuries I was in denial about his acceptance of me leaving, but at the same time, I eventually got to the point where I just didn’t care anymore. It was as if I couldn’t remember anything from my time away or before I was taken. The only memories I had were nightmares, and I couldn’t tell if they were real or were just nightmares of a warped and demented mind that was on the verge of breaking.

  “When, I don’t know when exactly, but there was always someone new in my life that bore the mark of Adramelech, and they took me from place to place, and kept me safe. Did you know that Mrs. Miles bears the mark of Adramelech?”

  Angelus shook his head. “I have not had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Miles.”

  “Oh yeah, we should totally get pie.”

  He gave me a look. “I will take it under advisement. Continue.”

  Annoying angel.

  “After three centuries, I finally spread my wings and was confident that Adramelech wasn’t going to drag me back to Hell. I had seen him, it wasn’t him, per se, but I knew it was, there was no mistaking his presence, every new place I went. I felt safe for the most part, because I knew that he, or someone, was always there watching after me. It didn’t feel the same as when I’m with you and in your arms. That is a whole different level of security and love, and I thank you for that,” I whispered the latter and he nodded.