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How to Seduce an Angel in 10 Days

Page 18

by Saranna Dewylde


  Falcon wished like hell he could slay the monster. All he could think about was that night at the beach house when they’d been watching The Howling. She kept hiding her face in his shoulder, looking to him to save her from the monster, even though it was only on a screen.

  This was real. The monster had her and she had to fight it without him. He couldn’t ride to the rescue. Damn, he couldn’t even fly. His wings had burned and it had been agony. He knew he’d heal, but what about Tally? What was this going to do to her?

  He sank to his knees, at a loss. For once in his life, Falcon didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have a plan, or direction. Logically, he knew he needed to go petition the Powers That Be for another vote, but he couldn’t abandon Tally to Emilian. He couldn’t leave her there, hopeless and afraid. Falcon didn’t even know how to find her.

  He looked up at the sky. “Merlin? Are you listening?” Falcon had so much to say, but not enough time to say it. “I’m sorry. I screwed up. Don’t make her suffer because of what I did. Please. This time, I mean it. Help me help her. Not so I can get in her knickers, but so I can save her life. Her soul.” Falcon waited. He knew the Bigger Boss liked to say he worked in mysterious ways, but there was no answer forthcoming.

  Falcon, being a Crown Prince of Heaven, had expected one. Immediately, considering the fate of the world was at stake.

  Someone had to be at the wheel, didn’t they? That left only the Big Boss—Caspian. Falcon had met him a few times since his ascension. Wasn’t really a bad guy—he’d helped Dred out with his sister. Maybe he could help Falcon?

  “Okay, who else is listening? Anyone? Caspian? Look, I don’t know if I have anything you want. Even though I’m already a Crown Prince of Heaven, my soul is a little dirty. No, I lied. It’s a lot dirty. It’s dirty like a—”

  “Yes, I get it. Do stop carrying on so.” A voice rumbled from the ether of the sulfuric cloud that bubbled and boiled in front of him. It stank like rotten eggs and convenience store burritos.

  “Uh, you don’t look like Caspian,” Falcon said to the debonair man with a sharply groomed goatee who appeared in Caspian’s stead.

  “That’s because I’m not, genius.” The newcomer rolled his eyes.

  “Well, who are you?”

  “The Devil.” He spoke as if that should have been obvious. Falcon didn’t have time for games.

  “Last time I checked, Caspian was the Devil,” Falcon said, not liking this guy at all.

  “Last time you checked, your girlfriend wasn’t the great and terrible evil. Things change.”

  “So, do you have a name or do I call you the Thunder from Down Under?”

  “You’re quite the smartass for being the Angel of Love and . . .” He trailed off. “What the fuck happened to your wings? Holy Me, it stinks like that time my granddaughter tried a summoning and lit her hair on fire.”

  “Stink? Have you smelled your mode of transportation? I almost puked.”

  “Eh, sorry about that. I had burritos for lunch.” He shrugged. “That still doesn’t explain your wings or your stench.”

  Falcon thought he was going to be sick. “The dickbag formerly known as Emilian Grey shat all over my cornflakes. He warded me out of the house I was sharing with my parolee with a bag of bone dust and stole my woman.”

  “So, your parolee and your woman are the same person? Is this the lamia/Drusilla Tallow/Ethelred debacle?”

  “Those people are involved, so I’m going to go with yes.”

  He looked at his watch. “Hmm. This is getting down to the wire, isn’t it? Do you want to kill him?”

  “Yep.” He was glad the Devil understood. It made things so much easier.

  “Well, you can’t.”

  “Damn it. Why not?” Falcon snarled. So much for easier.

  “I said so.”

  “Like I said before, who the hell are you?”

  “Exactly.” He smirked and then sighed. “Fine, I’m Hades. Merlin retired. Caspian ascended. I thought they were supposed to send out announcements or something, have a party, have cake. Someone gets drunk and photocopies their ass. You know the drill.”

  “I guess he was too busy with this whole destruction of life as we know it thing.”

  “I suppose that’s a reasonable excuse for missing social obligations,” Hades acknowledged.

  “Do you think I can hitch a ride? I have to find Tally.”

  “I guess, but you’ll have to hold on to me. It might feel a little gay,” Hades shrugged. “All hard bodies pressed together and such.”

  Falcon coughed. “What?”

  “You know, man flesh rubbing against man flesh.” Hades smirked.

  “It’s not like I asked to ride you like a pony.”

  “You kind of did.” Hades examined the end of his tail for a moment.

  Falcon considered what he’d said. Maybe he had. Fuck it. It didn’t matter. He had to get to Tally. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. If that’s what it takes to get it done.”

  “I think I like you.” Hades grinned. “I wasn’t sure I would, you know with the pink wings and everything.”

  “Why does everyone feel the urge to comment on the wings? Doesn’t the shade come with the office?” Falcon sighed.

  Hades cocked his head to the side as if he were considering the juiciest bit of gossip this side of Desperate Housewives and then leaned in toward Falcon as if he was going to share said tidbit. “The last guy?” The Devil looked around to see if anyone else was listening.

  “Go on,” Falcon said, not liking where this was going.

  “His wings were red,” Hades said in a conspiratorial tone. “Of course,” he added as he straightened, “we all gave him tons and tons of shit about his”—Hades paused to snicker—“red wings.”

  “Cupid just can’t win.”

  “Nope, but you’ve got to understand, we all feel we got gypped by love at one time or another, so we all figure fair is fair since you, or your office, has it in for us.”

  “That has nothing to do with me. It’s Fate, not Cupid,” Falcon protested.

  Hades held up a hand. “Preaching to the choir, man. You know how much shit I get on a daily basis because I’m the oh-my-god-devil?”

  “Yeah, I bet everyone blames everything on you. If it’s not the tidal wave on some island nation, it’s a serial killer next door,” Falcon sympathized.

  “Exactly. I can see this is going to be a beautiful friendship. Of course, you know everyone also thinks Cupid is already in league with the Devil.”

  “If I’m already doing the time, might as well do the crime, right?”

  “You sound like an old pro. I can hardly believe you’ve only been in office for a few months.”

  Falcon inspected what was left of the tips of his wings and was less than pleased with what he found. He wondered how long it was going to take for them to grow back. “Only a few months and I’ve already lit my wings on fire.”

  “Technically,” Hades said, “it wasn’t you.”

  “Since you’re the Big Boss, do you think you could fix them?” Falcon asked hopefully.

  “Why does everyone think I have magick?”

  “Don’t you?” Falcon gave him a sly look.

  “Not unless you want black wings.”

  “I’ll take ’em!” Falcon tried not to sound too excited.

  “Yes, but your kisses taste like cotton candy to your woman, right? That comes with the pink. If I change your wing color to black, you’ll taste like licorice. Does Tally like licorice?”

  “No.” Falcon would have stomped his foot like an eight-year-old girl throwing a tantrum if he’d been any less of a man.

  “Red tastes like cherry. I could maybe do red, but I think you’d taste like Twizzlers. They’d look pretty fucking cool though, with black tips.”

  “So Tristan tastes like licorice?” Falcon asked hopefully.

  “No, he’s Death. He will taste like ash and despair to anyone who hasn’t known death intimately.”

/>   “Intimately? That’s disgusting.”

  “It can be,” Hades said with a shudder. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yeah, I guess. How do we do this?”

  “We have to spoon.”

  “What?”

  “I told you it was a little gay.”

  “Whatever. Let’s get on with it.”

  “So, of course, you know I’m kidding. I just wanted to see what you’d say.”

  “Thank Merl—uh, Caspian for that.”

  “Good save! Every time you do that, you solidify his power base.”

  “You’re full of fun facts, aren’t you? Anything I should know about Cupid?”

  “You can’t be shot with your own bullet,” Hades said with a meaningful look.

  Falcon felt sheepish for a moment. The Devil sure did know a lot about him. “Can we go?”

  “Yeah, I’m getting to it.”

  “Do you need wing clearance?” Falcon asked with a sigh.

  “No.”

  “Fine.” He moved to stand behind the Devil, because one didn’t want the Devil looking over one’s shoulder and Falcon wrapped an arm around his waist.

  “Is that a love gun, or are you happy to see me?” Hades laughed.

  “Considering the situation, I’m very happy to see you,” Falcon tossed back.

  “I’ll say this for you—you’re a guy who can give the Devil a run for his money. Hold on tight. You’ve missed most of the big show. We’ll catch her at the Hall of Gods.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Cuffed and Stuffed

  He’d taken the cuff off, the stupid bastard.

  Her intent had been to separate the beast from Emilian, but in the end, Tally couldn’t stop and she’d absorbed both life forces.

  She’d knowingly killed a man.

  Granted, he could have been the harbinger of the apocalypse, but he was still a man inside. A person with thoughts and feelings, dreams and hopes. Someone’s child. Someone’s brother. Someone’s lover. And all that he was, all that made him unique was now gone—swirling inside her like some kind of Samhain candy treat.

  She slipped into the shower, knowing her hands, her body, her soul, would never be clean again.

  Tally sat down as the hot water pummeled her skin and watched it run down the drain. It should have been bloody. She didn’t understand how she could take a life without any blood or gore to scar her memory. Not that she’d ever forget it, but there should have been red and instead it was all gray. She felt dirty and Tally didn’t think there was enough hot water in the world to wash the feeling away. She’d never be able to scrub his stench from her body or the memories of what she’d done from her mind.

  Tally felt her chest tighten and tears burned like acid, but she didn’t want to cry again. She didn’t want to feel sorry for herself.

  The world was still turning. She’d traded one life for many—Tally had made the hard choice.

  You’re human, it’s okay to cry.

  The lamia tried to comfort her. It was a strange alliance, Tally thought. That alien presence inside her mind had once been so foreign, but knowing it was there now brought her an odd peace. Its voice was familiar to her, something she knew amid a sea of unknowns.

  Finally, she knew what it felt like to sate that gnawing hunger. She’d thought the lamia could only feed on purity, but the beast had been anything but pure. He’d been a blight of malevolence on the warlockian and mortal world alike. She’d done a good thing. Perhaps it was the purity in the act that sated the hunger?

  That’s what she kept telling herself.

  All she wanted now was to sink into Falcon’s embrace and forget everything, but that was impossible now. He was an angel and she was . . . something else. Her heart burned more than her tears. It was full of him and empty at the same time.

  I won’t hurt him. He makes it warm here for me. You don’t even have to tell him I’m inside you.

  “If I didn’t tell him that would be a lie. We don’t lie to people we love,” Tally said aloud.

  After all Middy had sacrificed to separate her from the lamia, she’d invited the creature back in with open arms. She’d hoped her best friend would understand, but Middy had almost died, and so had Dred. All to save her and it was like she’d thrown that sacrifice back in their faces.

  No, you were the only one who could stop him. They’ll understand. Stop being unhappy. It’s uncomfortable.

  It was uncomfortable. Tally looked at her hands, and down her body at the expanse of seemingly clean skin, and bit her lip. She couldn’t stop thinking there should be blood. “I’d like to be alone, please.”

  She felt its presence withdraw to a dark, private corner of her mind. It sent out waves of pleasure as it left to calm and soothe her. Tally could see why the women of yore would have been willing vessels. No matter what horrors they committed, if they surrendered to the lamia, it filled them with bliss.

  If only she could surrender her conscience to that feeling, but she couldn’t. She knew what she’d done would have consequences.

  Falcon. Oh, Merlin, Falcon. If she really loved him, could she be strong enough to let him go without explaining herself? Her explanations wouldn’t ease his pain, just her own. If he hated her, if he believed she’d betrayed him, he’d let her go easily.

  The thought of never seeing him again was like poison, and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. She sat under the spray until the hot water ran out. She waved her hand and used her magick to renew the hot water and cried a little bit more.

  “Hey, kiddo. You’ve got to come out of that shower sometime.” Tristan’s voice startled Tally out of her thoughts.

  Rather than screaming at him for coming into the bathroom uninvited, she said, “I don’t want to.”

  “I know, but you need to. The Powers That Be need proof that Emilian Grey is no longer the eater of worlds. Before they vote again on his existence.”

  “They’re the Powers That Be! Aren’t they supposed to know that stuff? Emilian is dead.”

  “One would think,” Tristan agreed.

  “I’d like to stay here for a little bit longer. I can’t seem to get clean,” Tally confessed in a small voice. The world waited outside the shower curtain. It was stupid to think a piece of plastic could be a veil between worlds and dimensions, but it seemed to Tally that it was. She was safe in the steam and the water. There were no mirrors there—either metaphorical or real.

  “I know, but I promise, it will pass.” He was silent for a long moment, but when he spoke again, his words didn’t comfort her. They were knives. “Falcon loves you.”

  “That just makes it worse.”

  “Why?” Tristan asked.

  “That’s going to make it so much harder to walk away,” Tally said through the curtain, using it like a confessional.

  “Why do you have to walk away? He’s the one, girl. He’s it for you, in case you didn’t know.”

  “No, I know all right.” Tally felt miserable. “He’s always been the one. I’ve loved him since I was a witchling.”

  “So, why the big good-bye? He loves you, you love him—sounds like simple math to me.” Of course, it would, he was male.

  “I can’t ask him to give up so much for me.”

  “What would he be giving up?” He sounded confused.

  “Sex.”

  “Why? Don’t you like it? Because if that’s the case, you know I’m still single. I won’t pass out between your thighs.” He rustled the shower curtain playfully.

  “No, damn it. You know the lamia is like a succubus. I could end him just from a single touch.”

  “He’s an angel. He has regenerative powers. I’m sure you guys could find a way around that. I mean, it’s True Love. You can’t let a little thing like death ruin your Happily Ever After. Or, you know, Death.” He laughed at his own joke. “Just like I told him at The Banshee’s Bawl, he’s not on the docket to be reaped. Any reaping of someone with Crown Prince status requires my perso
nal appearance. He’s not scheduled. It’s going to be fine. Really.”

  “That’s because I’m not going to be weak. I will never see him again if that’s what it takes. I don’t think I’m one of those. I’m not the kind of girl who gets a Happily Ever After.” Tally was resigned to her fate.

  “If you don’t believe you’ll get it, then you won’t. Everything you’ve ever wanted is there for the taking. All you have to do is reach out with both hands and hold on.”

  “Tristan, not that I don’t appreciate your help, but why do you always manifest when I’m naked?”

  “Because Death is a pervert?”

  She laughed. “Don’t make me laugh right now. Everything is still so raw. I failed, Tristan. Emilian is dead.”

  “No, he’s not. I brought a friend to help. If you still have Emilian’s life force, if you can convince the lamia to give it up, she can put it back in his body.”

  “That easy, huh?”

  “I never said it was easy, but come on. Get out of the shower and mope later. There’s still work to do.”

  Tally sniffed. “Is Ethelred okay? What happened to Luminista?”

  “He made a side deal with Emilian and you’re asking if he’s okay?”

  “He’s wormed his way under my skin. Like a tick. I know Ethelred was hurting, and sometimes people do stupid things when they hurt.”

  “Interesting observation. He’s a demon, though, not a people,” Tristan said with a smile.

  “I think he’s more a people than he’d want anyone to know. These demons and angels, the ones who didn’t start out being one of us, their emotions and thought processes seem to be like ours, only exaggerated. Like they don’t know how to process what we do every day.”

  “Another astute observation. It takes them time to learn, but eventually they do,” Tristan said. “Eventually, we all do.”

  “I think that’s a gift for us, for humans. It’s so ugly and messy, but beautiful and perfect all at once.”

  “Perhaps that’s why the lamia wanted to come back to this plane. Why it wanted to stay with you.”

  “How did you know that?” Tally stuck her head out from around the curtain.

 

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