How to Seduce an Angel in 10 Days

by Saranna Dewylde

  “I’m Death, dummy. You had to pass through my realm to get to the Abyss. I see all, hear all, and know all.”

  “Yeah, you’re definitely still a know-it-all. Death hasn’t changed that any.”

  “And look, you’re still Tally.” He swiped his finger down the tip of her nose.

  “After all of this, huh?” She sagged back in the shower. Tally switched subjects.

  “The lamia said Falcon made it warm for her.”

  “Perhaps you’ll change her as much as she’s changed you.”

  Tally didn’t say anything.

  “Now, are you coming out or what? We have a gypsy prince to bring back to life.”

  “Depends. Are you getting out of my bathroom?”

  “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.” He wagged his eyebrows suggestively. Tally narrowed her eyes at him and he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, I’m going. But hurry up. His soul may decide it doesn’t want to come back. We have to catch him while he’s still confused. Or so my source says. Move it!”

  The door closed and Tally swallowed hard. Tristan was right, she couldn’t stay in the shower forever, couldn’t hide from what she’d done and what she’d become. For better or worse, this was the path she’d chosen. It was just like what she’d told Falcon. She had to make do with what she had—not only make do, but make the best of it. A life.

  That started by facing the corpse in the living room.

  Resolved, she turned off the shower and slipped into the filmy pink maxi dress she had hanging on the back of the door. Tally caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and she stopped to look.

  She almost didn’t recognize the woman looking back at her. She was a hundred million miles away from how she thought she’d turn out and even further away from who she wanted to be.

  Then she smiled because that was wrong. Drusilla Tallow was exactly who she wanted to be. It had been a shit-ugly journey to get there, but she was there and that’s what mattered. She’d loved someone else more than herself, put him before her own needs, and she’d been brave enough to face her fears—all of them to do the right thing. That was a woman worthy of her Second Chance and maybe even redemption.

  “Tally, move your ass or I’m going to spank it!” Tristan demanded.

  “Damn it, I’m having a moment, Tristan.”

  “Have it later.” He popped the door open and she threw the mouthwash at him.

  “Tristan,” a sultry female voice interrupted, “I think you can let the woman have her moment after what she’s been through.”

  Okay, so maybe Tally wasn’t as evolved as she thought. She hated the owner of that voice with a singular burning intensity simply based on the fact that she had a voice that screamed fuck me now. Her jealousy doubled when she saw that the woman was insanely beautiful and had bigger breasts that she wasn’t afraid to display in a tight T-shirt. She was everything that Tally always wished she was.

  Thanks, Universe. Why is it every time I think I’m getting somewhere you—oh, right. She was tired of being tested. Life was just one big pop quiz and Tally always felt like she hadn’t studied the material.

  “Is this your friend?” Tally asked. Duh, who else would she be? She needed something to say and the obvious seemed the only thing available. Tally pushed all those feelings down. This woman had come to help her; so what if Falcon looked at her rack? Did it really matter? He was going to be doing a lot more with other women besides looking because she couldn’t be with him.

  “Hi, I’m Ghislaine. I’ll be your Zombie Master today. Buckle up and keep all hands and feet inside the ride.” The woman laughed.

  “Thank you for doing this,” Tally managed.

  “Sure, anything to get Death off my ass. Is he always so bossy?”

  “Afraid so. Comes from being an ex–war hero and Academy football star. Thinks he’s entitled.”

  “Uh, no,” Tristan interrupted. “What makes me feel entitled is that part where you killed me. Horribly. Remember that?”

  “Yeah, but you love me anyway.” Tally smiled.

  “I do.” He nodded with a sigh. “But you and The Diapered One have Happily Ever After on the horizon. So I’ll just have to suffer without you.”

  Tally snorted and Ghislaine rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how you stand him,” the Zombie Master said.

  “Mostly, I don’t. We broke up a hundred years ago, didn’t we?”

  “Yeah, because I’m an asshole. I know the song and dance.”

  “Wait, wait. I need to record this for posterity. Death admitted he was an asshole?” Ghislaine fake gasped.

  And suddenly, Tally smiled. Death and a Zombie Master. What better couple? She supposed it was a leftover impression from Falcon’s cupidity that let her see it, but she knew they belonged together.

  “I thought this corpse reanimation was time sensitive, Hissy Ghissy. Can we get on with it?”

  “Call me that again.” Her eyes narrowed.

  A look came over Tristan’s face and Tally knew he’d accepted her challenge. “Hissy. Gh—”

  Tally popped up and slammed her hand over his mouth. “Do this later. Like you said, Time sensitive. Right?”

  “Right. And if Death were all that, he’d be able to do this himself, wouldn’t he? We’ll have to excuse him since he’s got a raging case of scythe envy.” Ghislaine turned on her heel and sauntered back to Tally’s living room.

  “I’m gonna kill her. I am.” Tristan nodded emphatically.

  “I hate to break it to you—” Tally began, but Tristan held up a hand to cut her off, shaking his head.

  “I don’t want to know.”

  Tally shrugged and followed Ghislaine to where she stopped at Emilian’s body.

  “This won’t do. We need a bed.”

  “I’ve got that covered,” Tristan said and teleported them all to Tally’s bedroom.

  Emilian looked so . . . wrong lying there on her white quilt, the tiny pink flowers cross-stitched to make a larger flower design. It looked like a pyre rather than a bed, the flowers spread out to follow him into the afterlife. His face was so drawn and gaunt, his silvery eyes open, but unseeing, and his lips shriveled away from his mouth, making him look like he was screaming. His hands were curled into fists at his sides and his broad shoulders and powerful chest were shrunken and wasted.

  “Do you really want to put a soul back in that body?” Tally shuddered.

  Ghislaine took her hand. “Yeah. But you have to be willing to give back what you took.”

  “That’s a problem, because I’m not.” Tally sighed.

  “What?” Tristan demanded.

  “Shh. The adults are talking.” Ghislaine turned her attention back to Tally. “Not the cursed part of him. If I’d been here while you were draining him, I could have separated the essence of the beast and Emilian’s. If your curse is willing to let it go, I can do this.”

  The lamia had been strangely quiet. So, Tally would just assume it was willing. “I believe so. But if not, if I sprout wings or anything other than my eyes change, you need to go, okay? Promise me.”

  Ghislaine flashed her a warm smile. “I’m not afraid of you, Tally. My grandmère told me stories of women with power like yours. In ancient times, some women actually sought out the power you have to punish those who wronged them or someone they loved. My grandmère would have wanted to meet you and I am honored to help you.”

  Tally felt guilty for hating the Zombie Master on sight. All she could do was smile and nod. “Okay.”

  “This may be uncomfortable,” Ghislaine warned as she directed Tally to kneel on the other side of the bed and they linked hands over Emilian’s body.

  “What do you need from me?” Tristan asked, serious.

  “When you see Emilian’s life force, don’t give him any opportunity to go with you.”

  “So, basically sit down and shut up?”

  “Yeah.” Ghislaine smiled.

  Tally reached inside herself, seeking the
alien presence of the lamia to reassure it that she wasn’t trying to oust it, only give back what didn’t belong to them, but she got no response.

  Again, another test, Tally realized. She had to face herself. All of herself. She felt like a witchling who was ready to cry because she didn’t want to go to school. She didn’t think she could stand any more lessons. She’d learned enough for a hundred turns around The Great Wheel.

  Tally relaxed and opened herself, bringing down the last wall between herself and the lamia inside her.

  At first, there was the incredible bliss that was second only to the way she felt in Falcon’s arms. As the lamia merged with her on a cellular level, filled her with knowledge, power, strength, Ghislaine reached inside her and ripped something away. Pain swelled and ebbed, like a tide of suffering, but the lamia didn’t rise to protect them, because Tally had become the lamia and the lamia Tally.

  And Tally had offered this piece of them to Ghislaine.

  When she drifted back into the world, she realized the man she’d killed, Emilian Grey, held her against his chest and she was sobbing.

  “Merlin, but I can’t seem to turn off the waterworks,” Tally blubbered.

  He felt so real and solid against her, and she could sense there was nothing in him but the heart of a noble gypsy prince. Relief seemed to melt her bones and she couldn’t hold herself up.

  “Thank you,” Emilian whispered. “For everything. You were so brave. And I’m so sorry.”

  “We can play the blame game later. You two can apologize to each other until shit sticks to the moon. After Tally puts in an appearance at the Hall of Gods. They’re still voting on whether to wipe out your existence.”

  “If they’re really all that powerful, they should know they don’t need to do that.”

  “No, I’ve come to realize they’re not that powerful, all-knowing, or all-seeing. It’s more like a supernatural government than anything. There are bigger forces at work than the Powers That Be. But that doesn’t change the fact that now, Tally, you’re a threat to them.”

  “You know, I was tempted to ask what else anyone or anything could expect from me after I’ve saved the world, but there’s my answer.”

  “You know better than to tempt Fate, don’t you?” Tristan eyed her.

  She sat up. “Let me put on something a little more . . .” Tally struggled for the word.

  Ghislaine offered her a hand and helped her stand. “I like it. You save the world and you’re still stylish. Let’s go see what’s in your closet for your moment of triumph.”

  Triumph. As she went in search of the perfect outfit, Tally wished she felt that way.

  “Shit,” she cried out as a familiar ripping pain stabbed through her back. The only time she’d ever felt that pain was when the lamia had erupted from her body. “Run, Ghislaine.”

  “No, I told you I wouldn’t.” The other woman locked her hand tighter around Tally’s. But Tally’s hands didn’t change to claws, and her body didn’t change into a predator’s. Instead, gold wings exploded from her back, knocking books and knickknacks off shelves and filling the hallway around them.

  “Oh,” Ghislaine gasped.

  Tristan and Emilian came running, but stopped short when they saw her.

  “Wow, Tally. I think you just got a job,” Tristan said, and led her into the bathroom where she could see a mirror.

  Tally was almost afraid to look, but when she did, she didn’t see any sort of beast looking back at her. Only her own face. Her own eyes.

  And a crown of fire on her head. Within the spires of her crown, four letters burned brighter than the flaming jewels: LUST.

  “Congratulations. You’re a Crown Princess of Hell—the Angel of Lust,” Tristan said.

  Ghislaine sighed happily. “Isn’t it great when Lust and Love go together? How perfect.”

  “It can be perfect later. We still have to get to the Hall of Gods before the vote.”

  Hope surged in Tally. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  A Demon’s Heart

  Ethelred had been a demon since the early days of man, forged from the black soot of a dark heart. He’d never been human. Yet, he was now plagued by human emotion. Uriel blamed the gardening. He said that nurturing things, caring for them while they grew was a distinctive trait of a Crown Prince of Heaven and dealt with one of the softest of human emotions.

  Ethelred thought his old lover was full of hyena dung. It was that fucking arrow.

  Both sides were riddled with human emotion; it was simply that Ethelred had been exposed to the more unsavory, yet necessary aspects of the thing.

  He’d been a bit infatuated with Uriel. Ethelred could own up to that, but what he’d thought could have been love had only been a passing obsession. Intense, to be sure, but love? No. It was nothing like what he felt for the gypsy princess.

  So with everything that had happened, Ethelred didn’t see that he had any other choice but to take desperate measures. He’d hidden Luminista away in Hell. A big step to be sure, but they were already living together at the beach house and there was no way he’d let Emilian anywhere near her until Tally had done her job. At least while Luminista was in Hell, he felt like he had some control.

  As soon as she’d popped through his door, she’d started pawing through his CD collection and taking everything off the shelves, which he’d had in ABC order. She was a frustrating little baggage—most of which he assumed was on purpose. It had to be. No one creature could be as difficult without intent.

  He knew Tally was pissed about the double cross, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to test her to her limits. It was part of his job. Maybe she was off parole, but she hadn’t reached her full potential and she wouldn’t until she had no one and nothing to rely on but herself. Of course, he also had to have insurance. Ethelred simply couldn’t allow anything bad to happen to Luminista. Well, nothing bad except him. He’d tuck her away like a dragon guarding gold if that’s what it took to keep her safe.

  Ethelred stepped through the door to his quaint Victorian to find the girl sprawled where he’d left her—her pretty silver hair a tangle around her head, looking like she was trying to make a snow angel on his Aubusson rug.

  Merlin! Not only had she taken every CD off the shelves, but she’d dug through his old picture albums as well. He was not pleased.

  “Stop playing Sleeping Beauty and sit up. I can’t scold you properly if you’re asleep.” She lay there like a recalcitrant slug. “Fine. You can call me Ethel. If you must.” He heaved a great sigh. When even that didn’t rouse her, Ethelred crept closer, his steps hesitant.

  Every single scenario running through his mind was completely and totally unacceptable. He toed her gently in the ribs. She didn’t move. He sank down onto the rug next to her, unmindful now of the mess of CDs and pictures.

  He leaned down close to her bow mouth, but there was no sound of breath, no warm rush like butterfly wings against his ear. Ethelred couldn’t process that and rested his hand over her heart. Surely the thing would be thumping away in defiance of him and everyone else.

  Nothing.

  She was dead.

  With her death, he should have been free of the arrow. But there was no freedom in this. Only a rage unlike he’d ever known before fueled by what he could only assume were the fires of endless torment because he’d failed to protect her. It was as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest and shoved into a blender.

  He’d promised her. Falcon’s arrow or no, he’d promised her he wouldn’t let the Powers That Be wipe her out of existence.

  Ethelred hadn’t been blowing smoke up the beast’s ass when he’d confessed his origins in the Abyss. He was darkness that had been molded into a man, that had submitted to this new belief system, this Heaven and Hell.

  They obliterated Luminista? It was their own ethos that determined his next action. Do unto others . . .

  Ethelred would do unto every last one of them the way they’
d done unto her.

  Wreathed in flame and vengeance, Ethelred flew to the Hall of Gods.

  Perhaps it wasn’t his place, but he didn’t give a shit. Was one woman’s life worth an apocalypse? Luminista’s was.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t turn. Ethelred knew who touched him with such familiarity. He’d scented the angel before he’d felt the touch.

  “Don’t do this, I beg of you,” Uriel entreated.

  “I have to.”

  “Please, Ethelred. Do you know what will happen if you fail?”

  “You should fear what will happen if I succeed. I’m going to burn them all.”

  “It was never love between us, but I care for you. Don’t damn yourself.” Uriel rested his forehead against Ethelred’s back, but the demon remained stoic and unmoving.

  “I’m already damned either way,” Ethelred whispered.

  “You and I are eternal, Ethelred. We are more than these gods and goddesses. Which is why we can’t interfere. I hope you can forgive me.” Uriel clamped a magickal cuff around Ethelred’s wrist.

  Ethelred turned to face the angel slowly and smiled. It wasn’t his usual gleeful malevolence, but sad and soft.

  The shackle dissolved into salt as they both watched—Ethelred with certainty and Uriel with disbelief.

  “Your cause is righteous! You truly love her,” Uriel whispered in awe.

  “I do.”

  Uriel seemed to deflate, looking weaker, smaller. Almost mortal. “Then there’s nothing left for me to do”—he looked up at Ethelred and searched his face for a moment—“but ask how I can help.”

  “You would do that for me?”

  “Ethelred, when it’s love, what can Heaven do, but offer a helping hand? I don’t want to see any more destruction, but the shackle proved your righteousness. My sword is yours. While we are no longer lovers, I’ll always care for you.”

  “And I you, my friend. Thank you,” Ethelred said, humbled by Uriel’s offer and admission.

  It had been a long game between them, spanning several centuries—each interaction loaded with innuendo and sexual tension. They’d never bonded on a deeper level or gotten to know each other as individuals. It had been all about the sex and getting one up on Heaven, or Hell, depending on who was talking.