Fallen (Dark Angels Book 2)

by Mandy Lee

  Mara felt a shift in the frenetic energy of the room as the crowd began to part like the Red Sea, and there he was. She felt herself moving toward him, drawn by an invisible tether. She caught his scent as it flowed around her, his essence seeping into her consciousness. Mara knew what was happening but felt helpless to stop the melting feeling that overtook her.

  He was right in front of her now, so familiar yet so distant. The same tailored black suit and crisp white shirt, his dark brown hair short and brushed back, and those deep brown eyes that swirled with strands of silver as he released his power on her. If there was a God in this place, it was him.

  He reached out and drew her in close, whispering in her ear. “Hello, love.”

  Mara gasped for air, drowning in his scent and his voice. “Stop it.”

  “Now why would I do that…” He ran one finger down her cheek. “…when you used to like it so much?”

  Mustering what little self-control she had left, Mara moved her head back and stared him right in his hypnotic eyes. “Cut it out, Rodney.”

  The silver in his eyes and his magnetic scent withdrew from her as Rodney banked his powers. He shrugged and gave her an irreverent wink. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  Free from his spell, Mara rolled her eyes. “Incubi! You’re all the same.”

  Rodney clapped a hand over his heart. “Ouch, that hurts. Be nice!”

  Mara sighed and shook her head, Rodney would never change. “It looks like you’re still doing well.” She motioned around the crowded club. “Business is good?”

  Rodney gave her a crooked smile. “Good enough. You can never be too rich, right?” He took her arm and steered her over to a more private corner. The patrons eyed him with a mixture of lust and awe. “So, what brings you to my den of iniquity after all this time?”

  Her hands twisted together, an outward manifestation of the way her gut was churning. Rodney reached out and took her hands, stopping the nervous tick. “Mara, whatever it is you can tell me.”

  With a deep breath she let it all out. “I’m assuming you’re up to date on the happenings of the past few weeks?”

  Rodney chuckled and shook his head. “If you mean the revolt of the fallen, then yes. Those boys certainly made a statement. I don’t think anybody in the Netherworld saw that one coming.”

  “Yeah, well, I seem to have gotten myself stuck in the middle of it all.” Mara looked up at Rodney with a pained half-smile.

  Rodney stared at her in silence for a moment then broke out into a full body laugh that drew attention from the surrounding crowd. Mara brought her hand up to her face and shook her head in embarrassment. “Cut it out, Rodney. People are staring.”

  Swiping at the tears of laughter that were leaking out the corners of his eyes, Rodney reached out and grabbed Mara in for a quick hug. “Oh, Mara, why am I not surprised that you’ve gotten yourself in the middle of a shit storm? You’re like a magnet for trouble. That includes your relationship with me.”

  “Well, you know me.” Mara said with a shrug. “Always falling for the bad boys.”

  Taking her arm, Rodney led Mara over to a nearby loveseat and pulled her down, sitting beside her.

  “I may be a bad boy — that’s built into my nature. Sex demons aren’t exactly the best relationship choices. But if there was ever anyone I wanted to make things work with, it was you, Mara. I just thought you should know.”

  Mara gave him a small, sad smile. “You broke my heart, you know.”

  “I never wanted to hurt you, Mara.” Rodney gave Mara one of his few serious looks.

  “I walked in on you doing half the demon-rugby cheerleading team, Rodney. What did you think would happen?”

  “I was kinda hoping you’d join in.” He gave her a cheeky half-smile.

  Mara rolled her eyes. “Well, we can’t change the past. But maybe you can help me hide a guy while as he recovers from some pretty serious injuries.”

  Rodney gave her a slow nod. “Payback’s a bitch.” He patted her on the arm. “Sure, I think I can take care of your new boy toy.”

  “He’s not my…Oh, never mind.” Mara shrugged in defeat. “Do you have some place around here where he can stay without being seen by any of your patrons?”

  “I think I have just the place.” Rodney took her hand and got up, leading Mara through the crowded club.

  The patrons parted in front of them. Club-goers reached out to touch Rodney as he passed, wanting to be near him and the intoxicating sexual energy he threw off. Incubi were almost impossible to resist. Their scent and energy drew everyone in the vicinity, no matter their orientation. They were quite simply an exceptionally well-designed predator. Rodney was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and the wolf would most definitely eat you alive. As though to prove a point, he reached out and ran the back of his hand down a young man's cheek. He shivered and convulsed at Rodney's touch, small sparks jumping off his skin, sexual energy being drawn from his body directly into the Incubus. Rodney winked at him and continued on his way leaving a trail of patrons clamouring for him in his wake.

  They walked through a curtained entrance at the back of the club that opened into a room decorated like a cavern; several small pools were set into the floor. Gemstones adorned the ceiling, reflecting their multi-colored lights down into the waters. The pools appeared to be lit from beneath. It was magically beautiful. Rodney ushered the current occupants out of the room. A variety of demons pulled themselves out of the pools, making their ways hastily out through the curtained doorway.

  “I figure the best place to hide is in the last place anyone would think to look,” he said with a devilish rise of his eyebrow.

  Mara gave Rodney a confused look. He responded with another half-smile that was pure evil.

  “Watch.”

  Rodney knelt down beside one of the glowing pools. He stretched an arm out over the water and produced a small, jewelled dagger from his suit jacket with his other hand. An incantation in a demonic tongue rolled off his lips as he drew the dagger across his outstretched palm. His lavender-colored blood flowed out of the wound, dripping down into the pool. He moved his outstretched arm to paint a demonic symbol in the still waters. As the blood dissipated, the water began to bubble and boil of its own accord.

  “What’s happening?” Mara asked, her voice curious.

  “Watch and wait.” Rodney replied quietly.

  As the boiling bubbles died out the waters calmed to a still, lavender pool. Rodney looked up at Mara and stretched out his free hand. “Join me.”

  In silence, Mara took his hand and moved to Rodney’s side at the pool’s edge. “It’s simple; just step over the edge,” he whispered.

  With their eyes locked, Mara and Rodney stepped out. Instead of splashing into the pool of water, Mara found herself sliding through a purple fog. She felt gravity shift and pull at her from all the wrong angles. Mara struggled with panic, but quickly felt Rodney’s arms circling her, calming her. She felt a little like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. As the fog dissipated, the gravitational pull shifted again and the air became cold. Suddenly, the fog cleared and Mara found herself in a stone walled room with candelabra sending flickering light around the space. Looking down, she saw that she was standing in the middle of a frozen lavender pool. A four-poster bed was set along one wall; an antique oak dresser was against the opposite wall.

  “What is this place?” Mara asked as she looked around her in wonder.

  “Welcome to my private bolt hole.” Rodney said as he strode into the room, pulling Mara along with him. As they walked away from the frozen pool, the ice cracked and began to thaw.

  “The whole time we were together I never knew about this place!” Mara said, slapping Rodney on the arm.

  He shrugged. “A man has to keep some of his mystery.”

  “What was that?” Mara asked, pointing to the lavender pool.

  “That, my dear, is my own private portal. Don’t tell.” Rodney winked and took a seat on the edg
e of the bed. “We’re in Sheol. A private corner that’s well-warded.”

  Understanding dawned on Mara and she began to smile. “Smart man! We can hide B in the last place Satan will ever look for him…right under his nose!”

  Time for the fallen angel to return to Hell.

  Chapter Eight

  Flickering lights pierced the veil of night as the wind rushed past him. His skin stung and burned as he hit terminal velocity. Thunder rumbled as he continued his descent. Abject terror swallowed him from the inside out. Pain radiated from the ruined stumps that had once held his glorious and powerful wings. Wings that had soared through the heavens with his angelic brothers for eons, now reduced to a pile of blood and snowy white on the marble floor of Heofon. His soul wept for his loss. As he crashed toward the earth he prayed that mercy would be taken upon him at the last moment, delivering him from his intended punishment and that the fall would somehow end his immortal life.

  The impact came. He felt his bones shatter and his insides liquefy but still unconsciousness evaded him. Blood seeped from his shattered body, leaching into the ground. A rumbling began beneath him, the dirt shifting and moving violently. The smell of rot and sulphur began to permeate his nostrils and his panic rose. Hands clawed their way free of the earth, grabbing at his mangled body, pulling him deeper into the crater created by the impact of his fall. He tried to scream, but no sound emerged from his ruined vocal chords. Unable to move his broken body to free himself, the ground opened up beneath him and swallowed him whole.

  It seemed as though he was dragged for miles. Time stood still and pain was his constant companion. Rocks gouged his skin, tearing what was left of his ruined flesh from bone. The stench of rot grew more and more pronounced as his captors dragged him into a stone chamber far below the surface of the earth. Pain radiated from his eyes as they regenerated, the dim light pierced his retinas as he slowly opened them and got his first look at his surroundings. The grey stone walls were covered in soot and grime from the dozens of pillared black candles. Demonic sigils were painted across the walls in a macabre display, the blood used to create them dripping down in slow moving rivulets toward the filthy floor. As the charmed Wolframite shackles snapped shut around his limbs, tears slid down his cheeks.

  Locked in an unending nightmare, Baal screamed as his skin was ripped and torn, his bones snapped and broken over and over by the demons that held him captive. When they tired of inflicting pain, the demons ran their hands over his body, using him in ways he'd never imagined. Ruby red eyes bored into his as he was abused in a never-ending cycle of pain and shame. He caught glimpses of his fellow captive, his angelic brother Gadreel, as the torture was heaped upon both of them. The remnants of his soul burned away as time lost all meaning — days, weeks, and months blurring together.

  As he screamed, the scenery around him flickered in and out of focus, ghostly images of torture designed to drive him out of his mind. Realizing that he was locked in his own mind, B tried to pull himself out of the descending spiral. He dragged forth the memories of his thousands of conquests. Nothing could make him feel less like the shamed and abused soul than the memory of the women he’d had over the years. Those women had made him feel strong and desired, not like the worthless prisoner, unable to defend or free himsel. Their faces flashed through his consciousness. All beautiful, all desirable — women that had made him the envy of every male he’d encountered. They had been his salvation all these centuries. Suddenly, his Greatest Hits Parade took an ugly turn. Adoring faces turned to expressions of mockery and laughter. They pointed at him and jeered, whispering to each other and giggling, looks of disgust marring their gorgeous faces. He realized he was nude and strung up like a side of beef from the filthy ceiling. He began to turn slowly, chained by his wrists, dangling like a used up marionette. The faces began to blur together as he spun faster and faster on a carousel ride from hell.

  Round and round he went, his stomach heaved and his skin shrank. A cold sweat broke out and his breath sawed in and out like he was running a marathon. He could feel the blood screaming through his head as his heart beat so fast he felt like it was going to break through his rib cage and jump straight out of his chest onto the grimy floor. B squeezed his eyes shut and held on for dear life.

  The hellish cyclone suddenly stopped. B felt like he was in the eye of the tornado, with no clue how he’d gotten to this sudden place of quiet. A feeling of peace and belonging washed over him like a warm breeze. He felt a waft of breath near his ear followed by the sweetest voice he’d ever heard.

  “It’s ok, I've got you.” Cool, soft hands cradled his cheeks. B’s eyes burned and a tear slipped from the corner of his eye. A delicate finger reached up and brushed away the tear with all the care in the world.

  “Open your eyes, B, look at me. It’s not real. It’s not real, I promise.” The beautiful voice whispered close to his ear.

  He latched onto that voice like a lifeline sent straight from Heofon. Slowly his panic faded. His breathing slowed; his heart rate returned to normal. His body felt less raw as relaxation poured through him.

  “That’s it. You can do it, B. Now open your eyes. Open your eyes and look at me,” she whispered softly.

  B opened his mouth to speak, not trusting that any intelligible sounds would emerge. Unsure of what to say, he licked his dry lips, his mouth opened and closed. With a tired sigh, he gave it a go.

  “I…I don’t know if I should,” he said in a voice that shook with fear. “I don’t want to see.”

  Those soft hands came back, cupping his face, calming him and grounding him in the moment.

  “You’re safe here, B. Open your eyes.”

  B reached up with hands that were suddenly free of their chains, covering her small hands with his. She felt so real, so good, like the answer to all of his prayers during his captivity. He knew that voice; he’d spoken to this woman before. He knew deep down that she was important to him. Deciding to trust her he slowly cracked open his eyes. He was looking at an angel. The light behind her made a halo out of her flaming red curls. Jade green eyes stared into his with a look of pure concern and caring. B swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Mara.”

  Chapter Nine

  Nyx cared about a lot of things in this world — the perfect blowout; the ideal shade of lipstick for each outfit; designer heels; and diamonds. Those were a girl’s best friend, regardless of whether the girl was a demon. What Nyx didn’t care about in the least were feelings.

  She tossed back her long blond hair and blew out an angry breath as she continued trailing her quarry down the bustling street. Why that group of jokers gave a shit about their missing friend totally escaped her. Then there was this joker, Samael, off on a wild goose chase to find his missing friend with a look on his face like someone just ran over his puppy. Really! What was the benefit of any of this caring bullshit anyway? All they did was run around in circles like headless chickens for no reason. If she didn’t get to Baal, Keir definitely would. He was a cold son of a bitch — no tricky emotions holding him back from his duty. No wonder she liked him so much.

  A clap of thunder sounded in the night sky and the clouds opened up. Fat raindrops began pelting the pavement. Nyx threw up her hands in disgust.

  “Are you kidding me?” She muttered under her breath. Bad enough she’d drawn the short end of the stick with this mission to the land of homo sapiens, but now she was out ruining her new stilettos chasing down rogue fallen angels. She shot a glance at her evening’s prey. Samael had stopped at a street vendor’s coffee cart to grab a drink.

  Nyx decided to take advantage of the moment to update her colleague on the night’s hunt. She dug around her formerly gorgeous — now damp — designer purse and fished out her favorite new toy, the pink rhinestone covered smart phone. The human race had a grasp on wardrobe and accessories in a way they didn’t quite get in Sheol. She shot Keir a quick text to let him know she was on the trail then dumped the phone back in her bag. Digging a
round once more she palmed the small knife she’d bespelled just for Samael. Covered in demonic sigils, and baring a demonish script that was sure to drop him like an anchor. In nomine diaboli, in the name of the devil…as long as she could get the pig sticker through his neck she’d be home free. Time to flush out his friends from that goddamn safe haven. They were guaranteed to come out looking for him. No way would they let two of their group disappear without launching a full-scale investigation.

  Nyx started walking again, drinking in the lustful looks from every man she passed. Laughing a little inside, she wondered what they’d think of her if they knew the truth of what lurked beneath the shiny exterior. These humans hadn’t learned anything in all the millennia since she’d been here last. Books and covers...not everything is as it seems. Fools! They’d learn once her brother made good on his promise to find a way out of Halja. He’d been trapped in that damn castle for far too long. The humans had become weak and soft, ripe for the picking. They bitched and whined about life being hell when their internet service went down. It was time to remind them about what Hell really was.

  She eyed Samael as got back on the move. It really was a shame that she was going to have to end him. He was, after all, a fine specimen. She watched as he turned down a darkened alley. Game on. She’d definitely have to steal another credit card and buy herself a new pair of shoes as a reward once she finished this gig. Self-care was so important.