FALL FROM PARADISE

by Blair, M. Dylan

  “That’s a story that would do little good to hear,” he said. “I promise you that.”

  “Perhaps,” I said, turning to face him. “Do you even know why you act the way you do?”

  “I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.” He stepped toward me, his gray eyes burning as he stared down defiantly at me.

  “I woke up in Araboth.”

  “What?” The color drained from his face, leaving real, true terror in its wake. Why was Camael afraid? What was going on? “What happened? What did you see?” He seized me by the arms, shaking me as he spoke.

  “What’s going on, Camael?” My eyes widened, my tender skin bruising under his rough grip. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “You could have been killed,” he said coolly, completely ignoring my question.

  “That’s not why,” I pitched back at him.

  “I don’t care,” he snapped. “You need to listen to me, Amelia, whether you like it or not. You are under my ward, which means you listen to me. While that does grant you some privileges, you need to understand that any act of free will like this will be seen as disobedience—”

  “Disob—!” Before I could even finish, he covered my mouth with his hand.

  “Whether you mean it that way or not, that is how the Triad will see it.”

  “Why should I care what they think?” I snapped, yanking his hand off me. “It’s your fault I’m even here in the first place. If you had never kidnapped Adam and me in the first place, none of this would’ve ever have happened. So if you want someone to blame, then blame yourself.”

  “Amelia,” he growled quietly, latching back onto my arm. “You’re not listening.”

  “Fuck listening, Camael.” I twisted my arms out of his grip. “What have you done to them?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I won’t let you get away with this.”

  “Amelia, what happened in Araboth?” he repeated calmly.

  “Enough,” I snarled back, but the moment I started to walk away from him, he was in my face in a flash. “You really need to learn personal boundaries.”

  His hands reached out to grab me, only this time I was ready. I’d beat him at his own game.

  “What have you done with them?” I was so pissed that I didn’t even care if I was wrong. I just wanted them to be okay.

  I couldn’t take any more blood on my hands, least of all Adam’s. I had made my choices based on his welfare. It was the entire reason I was here. I couldn’t survive this ordeal being all in vain. I’d find a way to kill myself first.

  Ω

  Time was a rather incongruous thing, like a ghost playing tricks in the night. Caught in its web, unable to evade its powerful grasp, I didn’t rightly want to escape.

  I had waited for this.

  I had waited for so long.

  “Please,” I whispered, my breath hot in my throat as a dark warmth began to take over every part of me.

  Camael stared down at me, his body rigid as he hesitated. Why was he hesitating? Permission? Didn't he know that I wanted him? Couldn't he tell?

  He was already on top of me, his shirtless chest begging for my affections until I couldn’t stand to look at him another second. It was choking me. This need. This desire to be utterly consumed by him.

  “Please . . .” I begged. Yes, that was it. He wanted me to beg, wanted me to plead as I arched my hips up against him. “Please, Cam.”

  I reached up and slid my arms around his neck, pulling his mouth down to my bare shoulder where the lace strap had slipped off.

  He took the hint and planted kisses lightly along my collarbone, moving the part of my babydoll that kept my breasts caged. Like a master painter using my body as his canvas, his mouth moved along the parts of my body that longed for his touch, leaving no piece of me unturned.

  He lifted his hips off me, long enough to undo his pants and push the black hem of my gown and panties aside, before burying his lust deep inside of me. My body curled around him naturally, my legs wrapping around his as we moved against one another.

  “I love you,” I whispered, more like a cry than anything else, my eyes shut tight as we savored the moment together.

  “Shh.” He nuzzled my neck, his breath hot compared to the rest of the room. Everything was so cold here. “There will be time for that later.”

  I wasn’t sure I understood his words, but luckily, I didn’t have to think about it for long. Our bodies were becoming intimately acquainted, tugging and kneading at our souls until there was no choice but to submit to the tide rolling over us.

  He was mine, and I was his.

  Ω

  The sudden shrill sound of someone screaming roused me from the first delightful sleep I’d gotten since getting here. Even before my training had begun, the shackles I had worn had permitted little comfort in the way of rest. Now with them off, I had the luxury of getting actual rest, or as much rest as could be expected given my circumstances.

  At the point where a squad of grafter demons came bursting into my chamber ready to disembowel whatever was on the other side of my door, I realized that they thought I was the one screaming.

  My suspicions were confirmed when the squad’s captain assembled his men around me and saluted. “Lady Lilith, are you hurt?” The captain quickly noticed my lack of dress and diverted his gaze.

  “What?” I blinked and looked down, clutching my robe shut.

  Oh, Jesus H. Christ! I had been dreaming. And about Camael, the one who had brought me here in the first place. That son of a bitch had put those thoughts in my head like a goddamned rapist.

  I would kill him.

  Right here. Right now. No more waiting.

  This would end now.

  “You are dismissed,” I stated.

  “With all due respect,” the captain said, “We are under Lord Camael’s orders to guard your chamber against anyone entering or exiting.”

  I was in his face in less than a minute. “All excluding him, correct?”

  He blinked. “Um . . .”

  I couldn’t take this bullshit. “Has anyone come through here? Did you see anyone leave?”

  He dropped his head reverently. “No, Milady. No one has come in, or out, of your room since you went in hours ago.”

  Somehow his comment only pissed me off more. “And you think he doesn’t have the ability to teleport in and out at will?” I screamed. “What the fuck is going on around here?”

  I didn’t even bother to let the demon answer; I simply barreled past him and down the cold, basaltic rock that encompassed the corridor bordering my room. The council room was at the end of the hall.

  I was there in twenty seconds, my guards barely able to keep up. I didn’t even bother to notify anyone before slamming the enormous doors open, letting them thud against the walls behind them. “How dare you?”

  Camael stood bent over the council table, staring at a large map, with Mammon and Mephistopheles on either side of him as they discussed something.

  “How dare you, you evil sonofabitch?” I boomed.

  At that point, all three looked up.

  “Deary, we’re all evil.” Mephis laughed. “You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

  “What gives you the right to come into my mind, my thoughts, like that and do whatever you please? Was that your plan all along, you sack of shit? To work me from the inside? How fucking dare you?”

  All three looked bewildered, but Camael seemed the most confused out of all of them. But he could play his game in front of them if he wanted.

  Camael frowned. “Amelia, what in the Nine Hells are you talking about?”

  “You bastard!” I screamed, not bothering to answer him as I made my way over to them and stood in his face. “I will kill you, Camael. I will kill you and return to Adam, and then all of this will be over.”

  He reached out to touch me. “Amelia, what’s going on? I’m sorry. What did I do?”

  I yanked away from
him, shoving him in the chest. “Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch me. I am not yours, and I will never be. Do that to me again, and Fallen Hosts or not, I will kill you with my bare hands.”

  Camael blinked rapidly, his voice caught in his throat. “Amelia, I—”

  “Fuck you, Camael,” I seethed. “Don’t ‘Amelia’ me.”

  A hardened grimace replaced his frown. “Listen, Amelia. I don’t know what I did, or what you think I did, but can this please wait until later?”

  My scowl said no.

  Mephis beamed at us as he inched his way over, slowly and deliberately like the Cheshire cat. “From the state of our fair lady’s undress, I’d wager she’s been dreaming about you.”

  Camael’s eyes widened. “Is this true?”

  “Forget it,” I snapped. I turned around to leave but found my arm latched onto by Camael, his steel gaze trying to unlock the secrets within mine.

  “I want you to tell me the truth, Amelia, please,” he said beneath his breath.

  “You should already know.” I wrenched his hand off me. “You did it. Goodbye, Camael.”

  Ω

  I took a deep, heavy sigh, one that should have eased the weight on my chest but failed. I felt dirty, contaminated, violated. Could I have dreamt it all on my own? Somewhere deep inside of me, I wanted him? I looked around as I sat at the corner of my bed, my hands clutching at the duvet. And if I did, what did that mean for Adam and me?

  I had to get that out of my head; there was no Adam and me.

  I, myself, had seen to that, but it was better this way. At least now, he was out of harm’s way. Every free second didn’t have to be spent worrying about what Camael, or the remaining Seraphim, would do to him. Emil and the others had saved him. They would see no harm befall him.

  When I had taken Camael’s hand, I had seen to the end of my relationship with Adam. But how could Adam expect me to trust him when he had commanded me so? Did he really think that I would go with him willingly? Hadn’t he known it would come to this when the truth finally came out?

  I screamed and buried my head in my hands. God, why?

  I shot up as if lightning had struck my spine. Was there even a God?

  I had seen just about one of everything but no God. I was immortal and still hadn’t met the man. Had he forgotten about me, much like the rest of his abandoned flock? An increasing emptiness never left my side.

  I had been abandoned and left to my own fate, but had I really expected anything less?

  If God really was out there, I hoped he had a plan because, if I really was on my own, I was slipping farther and farther into the darkness with no end or hope in sight.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “Now in order to successfully block a psychic attack—D’Angeline, are you paying attention?” Na’amah’s syrupy voice oozed with disdain.

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Obviously not,” the blonde-haired demon huffed in her usual manner. “Listen, I’m not doing this for my benefit. I already know how to shield against psychometry.”

  “Sorry, Na’amah.” I forced an apologetic smile in her direction. “I was just thinking about something.”

  For a second, she didn’t know whether to be aggravated or not, her own face locked in pursed silence.

  “It’s fine, really.” I nodded and stepped back into the purified circle separating us from one another. Those assisting me did not hesitate to ask for the extra protection. While Mammon couldn’t have cared less, Na’amah was far too paranoid not to. I was certain they all thought I would burst them into flames or something.

  And I couldn’t help but wonder if I could.

  “Alright,” she growled. “Let’s try this again. Shielding is one third physical, one third mental, and the rest ethereal. Your mental state controls your magic, which in turn controls the physical plane. A strong enough shield will not only deter any telepathy, residual psychometry, or vampirism, but will also knock someone on their ass if done right.

  “I should be able to determine your, how should I say this,” she said as she came to stand across from me, the glowing perimeter separating us, “Your power level by reading your abilities whether it be intentional or not. Those intentionally reading you are either looking for a fight, or are strategizing about one. Those unintentionally doing so, like say passerbys in the human world, in Assiyah - they call it a vibe, I think, yes? That feeling, though not physical, can be used to repel anyone.

  “Truthfully, some people find offensive magic easier to learn once they’ve mastered defense since magic is all about concentration and control.”

  A slight burning in my hands, like a tingling, had grown stronger in the past five months. The feeling waxed and waned by the hour, and I had no idea what it meant. Was this the ‘control’ she was talking about? My natural skepticism made me doubt it.

  Before I could think any more on it, a carrier demon burst through the stone chamber doors, its movement off-balance and cumbersome as its half-corporeal form lumbered into the room. “Lady Na’amah, Lady Lilith, the Hostsss have convened in the main conference hall and ssseek your presence. Lord Camael ordered me to essscort you,” its staccato voice hissed.

  Na’amah sighed slightly; Queens of the Underworld and we were still at Camael’s beck and call. “What is it this time, Rami?”

  It blinked, obviously not used to such opposition. “I do not know. I was only sssent to retrieve you.”

  I stared at it, still unaccustomed to such sights. Like a cross between a ghost and a temporal ball of shifting clay, it reminded me of a lava lamp. It oozed and dragged itself, its form amorphous one moment and solid the next.

  We followed the slow moving goo to the council room where it quickly begged leave of the Hosts, leaving us to fend for ourselves.

  “So nice to know you two ladies could make it to our little affair,” Camael said without even looking up, his attention focused solely on the charts in front of him on the table.

  He was angry with me still. The question was did I care?

  Na’amah clicked her tongue. “We were working on something ourselves, Camael. Don’t push it.”

  “Yeah, like your vanity, I hope?” the Viking along the side wall muttered.

  I kept forgetting the Archdemon’s name, the one who had accompanied Ba’al at our first meeting. Astaroth. That was it. As good as I was with names, his seemed to slip past me the easiest. In my already stressed mind, extraneous information was a nuisance to be dumped like garbage. He was an Archdemon, and yet I forgot him easily. I liked to assume that meant that I had grown accustomed to these murderers, but I feared that, even with all this training, my mind was dulling like the smooth contours of a butter-knife.

  I had to stay sharp if I was going to survive. It was all just business; I couldn’t count on any of them to actually keep me alive.

  Camael said nothing else as Na’amah and I took our seats, with me choosing the farthest spot possible from him.

  The two of us hadn’t spoken since the confrontation about my dream. I mean, what was I supposed to say? “Oh, sorry, I’m repulsed by the fact that I want you,” as if lusting after the leader of Hell were completely normal.

  My eyes inched upwards to make sure he wasn’t listening since I knew he was so good at doing so. Although he made no outward sign of it, I should have knew better than to think that I was any bit skilled enough to keep him out of my head.

  Instead, he turned from the scattered documents to focus on those gathered here at the meeting. Many things had changed since my arrival here in Gehenna and our journey into Sheol to meet with the Fallen Hosts.

  These Archdemons, these divisional leaders of Hell, I no longer feared them as I once had. I was no longer doe-eyed and naive. They were just men and women, each doing his or her own job within the Realm. My time here had taught me that.

  Even so, war was still war. Something that I was about to learn quickly.

  “Thank you for all coming on such short notice,”
Mephistopheles started by saying. “Camael and I have been going over the last set of intel received from our field operations and felt it was time to make you all aware of our findings.” He walked around the stone semi-circle and stood in the center next to Camael.

  Camael’s brow burned with sweat, a deep line drawn into his forehead from the burdens he carried. Looking up from the stacks of paperwork, he noticed me for the first time. His face was as difficult to read as ever. I could have been anyone sitting there; it didn’t matter that it was me. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad one. He just looked past me to Na’amah for a moment, his eyes focusing on her face for a moment before moving on.

  Moving on was exactly right. Good. Let the two of them be together. My hands balled at my sides. I was going to have to do this on my own.

  With nine Hosts in the room, I needed to shield against every single one of them. I couldn’t let them see how weak I had become. I quietly steadied my breathing as Mephistopheles projected a holograph on the wall of the Seven Heavens. I tuned him out and concentrated solely on shielding against everyone and everything.

  Na’amah had told me on more than one occasion that visualizing my desires would end up in a stronger, more tightly controlled shield. I imagined a cylindrical set of rings descending around me, one at a time, each one clinking loudly against the next until I was completely covered.

  Exhaling slowly, I drew the shield back into my body, letting it rush through my veins and coat me like a second skin until I felt it pulse off me like an aura. I was sweating now, the perspiration coating me as thoroughly as the shield did.

  Why are you avoiding me, Amelia? The words pierced my mind before I had the chance to blink.

  This time when I looked up, Camael was staring straight at me. I started to open my mouth, but he shook his head slowly and tapped his forehead instead. In here, Amelia. I need to see what you’ve learned.

  I frowned. So my shielding did nothing then?

  Au contrair. It did quite a bit of good. See? I followed his line of sight to find everyone else in the room lost in a conversation that was so dulled out it sounded like white noise.