by Mason, a. c.
“I don’t know about that. What type of General is she?”
“She commands the warriors who hunt down demons and angels who have crossed the line. Very irregular that the council would send her on such an errand. Myna is right. There must be something special about you.” Taj tapped a finger against her chin, staring at him.
The commander of the warriors had been sent to pick him up? Intriguing.
Zeta moved forward. “Gabriel, the angel, and Asmodai, the demon, will be your spirit donors, which means the General will be an offered.”
“Zeta, hold your tongue,” Taj said.
“What? He’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t select her.”
Doing his best to keep up with the discussion, he continued scrubbing.
“And how shall he do that if he doesn’t know which cup is hers?”
“Oh. Good point.”
Finished bathing, he walked over to the towel, covering up as he climbed the stairs.
“Wait, I’m confused.” Holding out his hand in a stop motion, he reached the top step. “Umm, rewind for me here. ‘An offered’ related to me picking a cup how exactly? Now let’s just say I ended up with this General. What kind of situation might I be in?”
“An offered is a potential bride.” Myna said. “At the ceremony tonight, you will choose one from among three cups containing the blood of an offered. The donor for your selection will step forward. You will drink from her cup, and she will drink your blood from yours. This will link you to each other.” Handing him a frock, she looked him over.
“The General is indulgent with Deimos,” Zeta shouted out and hopped to her feet. Verbal diarrhea. Despicable in women, but in this case, maybe an advantage.
Taj arose. “I told you to bite your tongue.”
“Why? Everyone knows about them. No one seems to know the true extent of her powers. I’ve heard that she caused an angel to go mad. Since she is the eldest of us, no one really knows.”
“Rumors and nonsense only make her more intriguing, silly.” Taj huffed and shook her head.
It all just seemed like female gobbledygook. “What is indulgent?”
Taj walked forward. “They are exchanging relief of their inner hungers. But it is unsanctioned by the council because they are alien to each other.”
That was a mouthful. At this point, maybe he shouldn’t probe further.
The three women walked in front of him to the door, and he followed them into the next room.
The angel from earlier stood there. “I must speak with Etienne alone,” it said to the women.
Finally, the angel he could explain the mix up to and get back to his life, confident his disappearance went unnoticed by everyone but the guys at the station. Well, maybe the old lady with the cats in the apartment across from his had clued in. How would you write this kind of missing person report anyway? Huh.
Looking disappointed, the three females vacated the chamber.
Once the door shut, the angel turned to him. “Welcome home, Etienne.” The angel hovered above the floor. “I gave you the time you asked for.”
What the hell? Home? His jaw dropped, and he stared in awe.
****
Prepared like a piece of meat for some stranger. Grotesque.
True, Etienne wasn’t really a complete stranger. Still. She grumbled, intent on being no less cooperative this time than she had been the last three.
“Please, General,” Leona, a dark-haired new host, spoke softly.
Though young and attractive, she’d been discarded by her family or society, like all the women. The ones in need of love. Easy to dust off and throw in with a lion.
“Please, lie back.” Leona’s hands trembled as she motioned. No doubt she’d been warned about her temperament.
The woman’s dark eyes cast down, near tears, and a tiny thrill coursed through her. Nothing more than a thin white shirt covered the woman’s form, showing her nude body and alabaster skin, a more curvaceous shape than hers. Luscious.
The fires raged off to the side, warming large pots of water and cast flickering orange light onto the woman’s skin. Her gaze explored her in detail, met hers and darted away. Sitting on the edge of the slab, cold stone beneath her bare bottom, awareness made her nipples harden. A glance told her the servant gawked at her breasts. Steam swirled in the air as Asmodai opened the door and entered her preparation chamber. Leona lowered her gaze from the sight of such a powerful demon.
Amusement made her grin. One of the few demons who preferred his centaur form over his fallen angel physique, his trim body was chiseled beyond reproach. Handsome. And lucky to be able to transform into such a beast form.
“Auria.” His deep baritone voice lingered in the air. Lifting her feet from the ground onto the slab, she huffed, and at the sound of the servant’s bare feet splashing on the wet stone as she scurried about in fright, nearly laughed aloud. She held the curls from her neck, releasing the long locks into a pool on the stone as she lowered her body against the slab beneath her.
As the servant held the soapy fabric above her right foot, suds and warm water dripped onto her toes. The cloth made contact with a tender gesture. A hiss of protest escaped at her body’s favorable response. Leona’s widening eyes glanced away, her body gave a slight tremble.
Asmodai slid into her mind telepathically. “You’re worse than J.C. ever was.” He snickered.
She cast an exasperated look at the ceiling. “I’m not the type to get crucified.”
The loud, robust laughter echoed in the room. The servant’s gaze darted in his direction, her tremors increased. Head ducked, she continued washing upward.
“Only you believe that, my sweet. I know you would,” Asmodai teased, and advanced, hoofs clacking on the ground.
His hard masculine upper body glistened from the steam. A magnificent creature. Seeing him like this only stirred memories best forgotten. “What do you want?”
She met his harsh gaze. Warm water slid over her legs, rinsing off the soap before the servant continued bathing her.
He smiled, amused by her displeasure. “My toy back.”
“Why would I come back?” He would not have come here unless he felt his offer was better than the choice ahead of her. What audacity!
“We both know it is only a matter of time before you are chosen. A woman of your talents and abilities shouldn’t be wasted upon a lesser.” Arrogance saturated his voice.
The washcloth slipped between her thighs, moving further up slowly. Eyes closed, she tried to ignore her body’s responsiveness to the intimacy. The cloth moved up and down between her outer lips, causing her back to arch. “Thank you, but my answer is no.”
His sharp eyes lowered as the servant pressed between her delicate folds. As the material passed over her clit, she shuddered from her body’s enjoyment.
“I do love watching you struggle, intent on not enjoying what feels good.”
He had always taken pleasure in jostling her emotions. Unwilling to satisfy his baiting, she remained silent.
The material slipped over her nub once more, and then bare fingers pressed to her clit. She moaned, then ground her ass into the rough stone slab, darted a look at the servant in warning, and the guilty hand retreated. Water trickled over her thighs, warm and sensuous. Another moan escaped her. Suds dripped from the cloth above her stomach as the servant brought it back down to her skin. She moved the material on her flesh in slow circles. Gliding down to her right, then leaning over her, she washed her left hip. The outline of hard pink nipples and areolas showed through the servant’s wet cotton shirt, became more defined as the girl’s chest pressed against the plane her stomach. Fists closed, she struggled to withhold the sound of delight she felt below the surface.
Asmodai pressed his lips together. “Mmm.”
The cloth moved up her ribcage to her right breast, then the other. The pleasure felt like agony, and all she wanted was for it to cease. But the servant pressed the cloth to her neck, lightly
scrubbing her, then finally rinsed the last of the soap from her body.
Asmodai’s hooves clopped toward the door, and the tension eased.
Paused in the doorway, he glanced at her. “Exquisite as always, my sweet.” He turned and exited the room.
Curving the corner of her lips to the side, she showed her teeth. As Leona applied scented oils on her skin, a plump woman with a silver blade entered the room, allowing cold air to creep in, and holding her wrist high above the silver chalice with ‘Auria’ inscribed on its base, cut through to veins. Blood pooled in the goblet.
She used the ceiling as a focus point to drown out her own discomfort, and as always noticed new details in the etching of the dome-like, carved ceiling. The flabby woman exited the room, leaving the door open.
Chatter came from the other side. The voices were familiar ones, not that it would have been difficult to figure out who else would join her in this offering.
Yasamin of the small people with bright faces, and Voira of the elongated, stretched people smiled as they entered. Both younger than she, with less than fifty years since their transformation, but the two had been a quarter of a century at the age of ascension, like most chosen hosts. Her transformation occurred in disturbing circumstances. Mercy, some might think. Not on her life!
Still, she was grateful. The events of that horrid day could have been the end of her. Two hundred years later, and she was still repaying her savior’s kindness.
Yasamin glanced at Voira. “I heard he’s cute and from the General’s home world.”
Just like a female to think an Earth male would be a great companion. Most humans sat at the council, but not a warrior among them. Only she hunted.
By the looks they gave her, attracted, but according to gossip she was too difficult. Not that she minded. It saved her from being an offered, a bride, and then a bed slave.
“Really? I wonder which one of us he will pick?” Voira said.
Voira didn’t mean out of the three of them, she meant between she and Yasamin. They wouldn’t dare say anything to her face, and even now, cast her suspicious looks. No doubt because of her indulgence with Deimos. Did they think she didn’t hear the whispers of their torrid love affair that echoed in the halls? The perception that she and Deimos could wield influence in the pairing ceremony worried her. Deimos could barely control himself, and he refused to couple with a match suited to him. Transformed nearly two hundred forty years ago, his visits to her for relief had grown more frequent, nearly every other night now. His first visit to her quarters had been over a year ago.
Upon her return from a mission, he took her two or three times, leaving her mentally exhausted.
Thinking about it, especially her own yearning, made her shudder. She broke the rules as soon as they were together, she could not resist. Nor did she care to stop. He brought her great pleasure.
Enough thinking about that.
Why had she been sent to retrieve Etienne? Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred while acquiring him, but Gabriel insisted she go.
The man covered his fear with an odd humor. She didn’t like humor. Really, could he be concerned about having to light the torches? Silly. She touched her mouth, where a smile had formed. When had she smiled last?
He was handsome—tall with coffee brown hair, olive colored skin, dark blue eyes, and a lean muscular frame. Still, she had overpowered him easily.
His ascension must be under way. The process of transformation would numb his mind. No longer human, he’d be a host, the vessel for a portion of two very old and powerful souls which would bring him strength, speed and agility. His senses would be immensely enhanced. Gabriel must believe he’d mastered his primal desires to choose him. Deimos had once been such a man, a great leader to his people. Now Etienne would share his fate. He’d fare well with either Voira or Yasamin.
She stood and covered her nude body with her white frock, then took a spot at the edge of the cool stone bench away from the two chattering females and relished the last moments of solitude before they were to be presented.
Chapter 4
Etienne’s eyes flew open. He lay naked, alone on a stone slab in a cavernous chamber, confused. The last thing he remembered, he’d been talking with three females about the jam he found himself in. Now, stretched out to the four corners, held in place by restraints, he tugged against the binding, which had little give. Why was he so calm?
A door opened and closed. The Angel from when he’d arrived appeared and looked down at him.
“What’s happened? Why am I tied up?”
“I’m known as Gabriel. Please be calm, this is for your protection. The metamorphosis is painful. I will stay with you during your ascension.”
Was this the Gabriel from the Bible?
The angel placed a gag in his mouth with cool smooth fingers, then lifted his head toward an approaching figure. “Asmodai, would you like to go first?”
“If you don’t mind?” This voice was deep and low, not one he’d heard before.
“By all means.”
The sharp, dark face moved in his direction. Horns sprang from the upper part of its temple.
Below a lean masculine torso, the lower half appeared to be a beast with horse-like legs.
A breeze wafted over his skin, then came the pain of teeth piercing his neck. If not for the gag in his mouth, his cry would have punctured the air. The gulping sound of the creature gorging on him danced against the stone walls of the chamber. The pain subsided in an instant.
Okay, he could handle this.
The creature withdrew, chewing on a piece of flesh.
Maybe not.
A woozy feeling took hold of him. He swallowed hard. No puking. Not with the gag in his mouth.
Gabriel stared down at him, the soft heavy lidded eyes giving him a sense of serenity. Sharp teeth and large fangs revealed themselves as the angel’s mouth opened, yet Gabriel’s face remained peaceful. His teeth sunk into his neck, but he felt no pain as tender suckling against his skin was followed by swallowing.
Why hadn’t he escaped or tried as planned? How had he been trapped to this slab, and why didn’t he remember? The dream-like sensation of Gabriel ending his feed intoxicated him.
The room seemed to sway around him, a feeling of euphoria clouded his thoughts. There must have been something in their saliva to cause this elation.
“Gabriel, you never should have crossed her.”
“You don’t think I know that, but it is done.”
“And you’re sure that this feeble thing can handle her?” The creature called Asmodai looked down on him with such disgust, he shuddered.
“He is the best hope we have.”
“Hope.” His deep laughter filled the air. “That is for angels. Did Jehoel give of himself?”
“Yes, and I’ve mixed his blood in with ours. Jehoel is still repenting for what he did to her.”
“And you, just as bad with your attraction to her. You should know by now angels aren’t built to satisfy a woman’s needs. A task best left to us demons.”
“Asmodai, leave this be.”
“Still cleaning up other angels’ messes, Gabriel? Always the errand boy. The Chief Seraphim depraved over a woman. Using her in the vilest of ways as a demon might. Drinking from her, feeding her his blood, even attempting to ingest her, and you’re left to mop up the slop.”
“She wasn’t slop.” Anger resonated in Gabriel’s voice.
A shiver moved up his spine.
Gabriel removed the gag and poured from a silver vase a thick liquid that seemed to have separated into his mouth. One half of the fluid appeared dark like molasses, the other reminded him of mercury, light and reflective.
“Drink.” Gabriel stroked his forehead.
He allowed it to flow into his throat, filling him. The thick mixture beaded on his tongue. He wanted to question what these two were doing to him but could only gulp down the fluid as though Gabriel’s words had compelled him. The liquid s
aturated his every cell, infusing him. Gabriel poured the last in and replaced the gag in his mouth.
A force he couldn’t see lifted him off the stone slab, suspended his body in the air. A surge of evil swept through his being, a black film coated his eyes, and he could no longer see. A blanket of light trailed the darkness, moving through him. He slammed onto the slab, then off again. Wrenching pain gripped him, dizziness made his senses whirl. He flung himself upward.
The restraints prevented any further rising, and he crashed down again. Shaking violently, he tried to retain hold of the ropes.
Tranquility washed over him, his mind and body grew still. Every part of him tingled warmly as he became weightless. Floating up from his body, he saw himself made of majestic light.
Everything else was a dark tapestry. The pain dissolved, as did the fear within him while he rose.
A light from above beamed on him like a brilliant sun. Music filled him with joy, and he wept from the power of the emotions.
A snatching black hand yanked him back into his corpse. A scorching blue flame crept through his body, sealing his soul within. All he could do was scream from the agony. Aware during all the torment, his thoughts drifted to the General, her strength and speed. He imagined the ginger color of her skin against his olive tone as his hands touched her neck, the taste of her skin as his lips followed the path his fingers had taken. Even her coldness lured him, and he could imagine the volcano beneath the glacier.
What would he become, a monster or a savior? And wasn’t the road to hell paved with good intentions?
****
Gabriel led Etienne to the door of the ceremonial chamber. “Soon all you have suffered will be forgotten. It is time to join the others. You are one of them now.”
The door opened for Gabriel without a touch. Was it telekinesis he used to do that? Still disoriented, he entered the large Coliseum-style hall. Gabriel brought him forward, presented him to the room of a few hundred faces, some human, and others, aliens with exaggerated humanlike characteristics. They cheered in greeting him, which seemed odd. Between the columns of spectators large torches on iron pedestals cast sparse light. He could see as clear as if it were day.