by Alisa Woods
“No.” He waved her away.
She peered up, hesitating, then lifted on her wings from the platform.
Razael sighed. Maybe he should make a blanket pronouncement so they would stop offering. None of the others were daring to alight on the balcony with him, but they hovered in the air above and clung to the walls, watching him and whispering amongst themselves.
Suddenly, the banging accelerated in frequency, shaking the walls even harder, such that Razel thought the magic which held them together might come apart.
Then it stopped. Thank magic.
Angels, when in human form, were truly manifest in the flesh, yet with the benefits of immortality. Even though Razael had bones and blood and exquisitely sensitive skin everywhere in his human form, he could not be killed. He could enjoy all the benefits of the flesh—the seductions of pleasure, the dark thrills of pain—with the added benefit of his angel power still rippling throughout his body. Right now, that meant an unnatural sensation of nearly coming out of his skin with anticipation of Evangeline’s and Jael’s appearance, now that they were done fucking. Razael could quell that unpleasant sensation—or any bodily reaction—with a conscious thought, but unless he exercised his will to do so, his reactions were nearly automatic. And his body often had a mind of its own, much as true humans did.
The shadow angels who fucked their angelings took full advantage of the conjoining of earthly pleasures and heavenly power. Razael had only experienced it once—with his Elizabeth, a human—and it had been so overwhelming as to drive him into a dangerous frenzy of Lust. He’d never experienced sex with angelings, despite the grumblings of his Regiment, but that pleasure must be even more heightened with the magic resonance between the angeling’s angel half and the angel’s pure one. This was the source of the storied orgasms given by the dark angels who indulged in such things.
And he could hardly imagine the orgasms between two full angels in their human forms.
Then again, that held zero attraction for him. Angels were drawn to the God-spark within humans, and it was the human half of angelings which drew their interest. Angels rarely paired as Evangeline and Jael apparently had. Few would trust another angel with such power in their vulnerability, but most simply were not attracted to angelkind. Yet judging by the duration of Evangeline’s and Jael’s session—and the intensity of the end—the two dark angels must have found something of merit in such a joining of angel-on-angel flesh.
Perhaps Razael could use that to his favor.
When Evangeline finally strolled onto the balcony, she was in considerably better spirits than when Razael had interrupted her strident fucking. Jael followed behind like a loyal servant, although a lazy one. His face was slack with pleasure, his gait unhurried. He signaled to one of the angelings floating above—a female—but Evangeline caught notice when the angeling hurried down to the platform where they stood. Evangeline pulsed her angel energy and knocked the angeling off the platform, something that startled Razael enough to leave him word-struck for a moment.
“Later,” Evangeline hissed at Jael, who seemed mildly put out. “We have a visitor.”
Jael shrugged and shambled to the wall where he folded his arms like a petulant child. Still, he let his gaze wander over the angelings wisely keeping their distance in the air above.
All angels were essentially the same age, but of course, none of those hundreds of millennia showed when one could create any physical manifestation one chose. Jael wore the body of a young, healthy, and sensual man, with long dark hair, and a beautifully sculpted body. But his eyes reflected the soul within, and they were half vacant, addled by Sin and seemingly half-conscious, almost as if he’d been reduced to a lower being with an animal’s reactions. Evangeline, on the other hand, had eyes sharp as a blue crystal. Her body was voluptuous and exaggerated—as if the beauty of the human form weren’t enough, she had to caricature it with breasts so large they would unbalance her except for the generously curved behind that kept her from tipping. She was clad in a toga, but it concealed nothing… especially not the hungry look in her eyes as she surveyed Razael’s normal oversized-human form.
“What is Elyon’s enemy doing in my Regiment?” Evangeline asked, a breathy hiss in her voice as if she were still out of breath from her exertions. An artifice that made Razael frown.
But apparently, there would be no preamble to their negotiations. “Suing for peace,” he said simply. “Why make war when there are more pleasurable things to do?”
Evangeline snorted her disgust, but Razael wasn’t quite sure why. Jael’s interest had wandered to his own cock, which was slowly rising under his sagging toga. He started to stroke it, his head lolling back against the dark crystal wall where he was leaned.
Zuriel had been right about him being lost in his Sin.
Razael focused on Evangeline. “Elyon is a threat to us all. He’ll bring the Warriors, and then none of us will live long enough to enjoy the fruits of our Fall.”
“Unless Elyon wins this war,” Evangeline countered. But she didn’t seem as confident as her words.
“Do you expect him to make you his Queen?” Razael asked, taking a guess. She was hungry for something more—or she wouldn’t be fucking Jael.
Evangeline’s eyes narrowed. “Elyon is the most powerful of the dark angels. He doesn’t waste time scrabbling after Virtues like some.” She gave him another look of disgust, and this time he felt its source—she was peering at his soul and revolted by it. And while Razael knew well the depth of his Lust and selfishness—he was Fallen for a reason—he also knew his depravity was nothing like the dark well in which most shadow angels dwelled. She was revolted by his Virtues… which made her attraction to Jael come into focus. His soul was a putrid cesspool of wantonness—and Evangeline’s shone bright by comparison.
But only by comparison.
She was riddled with Envy and Wrath—Lust was a distant cousin in a toxic pond.
Zuriel was wrong about what would turn Evangeline.
“My only concern with Elyon,” he started, “is that he will literally destroy everything, and I much prefer to go on living. I have a plan for how to contain him—it will tarnish my soul, but I’ll choose that any day over the Domain of Darkness.”
Evangeline’s lips curled into a smile, and he could see the arousal in her eyes. His potential debasement was exciting her. She and Elyon were not so different—another reason to pit them against each other.
“I’ve not been Fallen as long as you, Evangeline,” he continued, working that angle harder. “You’re right that I’ve clung to my Virtues. I fell from Lust, but I’ve kept my vow of Chastity in the shadow realm. Frankly, it disgusts me, the mere idea of allowing Lust to rule me. The shame of my Fall is great enough, I do not need to add to it. But none of that matters if Elyon brings the Warriors down on us all.” He let his gaze wander to Jael, who was moaning as he stroked himself against the wall. Razael let disgust twist his face and hoped Evangeline wouldn’t see through that entirely. “Is this what awaits me after an eon in Sin? I’d almost rather die.” Then he turned his gaze back to Evangeline. “Almost.”
The hunger in her eyes had grown nearly rabid. She licked her lips. “What do you want from me?” But he could see she was calculating the price she would exact from him for it. And in Truth, he would gladly pay with whatever vile act she had in mind. After Elyon was banished.
“Your assistance…” He glanced at Jael, whose cries were becoming louder as he stroked himself to climax. “And the old fool’s as well. I want to banish Elyon to the Dominion of Darkness. He can join his idol Lucifer there.”
Evangeline’s hunger stumbled for a moment. “You have a way to do this?”
“I believe so. But it will take the combined powers of at least four angels.”
“Four?” Her eyes narrowed.
“Zuriel has already been attacked by Elyon. She has pledged her help.”
Evangeline nodded once, then licked her lips again as she p
eered deep into his soul. No doubt imagining the tarnish she would bring. “If we help you in this, I’ll require compensation.”
Apparently, she could speak for Jael. Which Razael didn’t question. Jael, as if to emphasize the point, came rather noisily against the wall, groaning and moaning throughout it while spurting his release. Razael didn’t have to feign his disgust.
“What sort of compensation?” he asked, even though he knew.
“You’ll join Jael and me in celebrating.” Her smile was one of the darkest he’d ever seen. “To be clear, we will fuck you until you break from it.”
Her and Jael. He let a shudder take hold of him, figuring that would seal the deal. It wasn’t as if he had to fake that either. “Agreed,” he said hoarsely, even as his mind was spinning, trying to get out of keeping that promise.
Evangeline’s smile grew. “Just let me know the appointed time.”
Razael felt the tarnish already. But once Elyon was banished, he could see where things lay. It was possible that act alone would besmirch his soul enough that Evangeline wouldn’t want it. But seeing Jael spent against the wall, mumbling to himself, Razael didn’t think that likely. This was a dark hunger—this Envy that drove her—and he realized that Zuriel had led him right into this. She’d said Evangeline was ambitious and that he should shine his Virtues at her—he mistook that to mean Evangeline might join his cause out of righteousness.
There were no righteous angels in shadow.
He should know that by now.
If Razael could find no way out of this sordid promise, he would keep it. Or he could go to war with Evangeline and Jael in lieu of fucking them. But all that would depend on keeping his Regiment safe… as well as Eden and the others. He would not sacrifice their lives to save his already-tarnished soul from further defilement.
Jael had stopped muttering and flagged down an angeling from above. She fluttered down to prostrate herself at his feet. The angel grabbed her off the floor and held her aloft, facing away, and immediately started fucking her. The girl trembled and convulsed—Razael prayed it was from pleasure.
Evangeline rolled her eyes but didn’t stop him. Razael supposed their meeting was over and the fucking could resume.
“We will either lure Elyon away from his angelings,” Razael explained quickly, very ready to take his leave, “or we can attack him directly in his Regiment. Either way, we must discuss the ancient spells that—”
A pop of air cut him off.
An angeling appeared on the balcony between Evangeline and him. “My lord!” she gasped in his direction. It was Laylah. “Elyon is here!”
The angeling fell to her knees. Only then did he see the angel blade buried deep in her chest. Blood dribbled from her mouth. But here wasn’t Evangeline’s palace. It was his. And there was only one reason Elyon would be in his Regiment.
Eden.
Razael lurched forward to grab Laylah before she fell to the floor. Then he twisted and opened a portal, praying to all the archangels in heaven he wasn’t too late.
Chapter Eight
Fight, flight, or freeze.
Eden knew those were the responses. She heard the words in her head. They repeated again and again, through the screams and the buffets of magical energy and the blood spraying against the wall. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.
Fight, flight, or freeze.
She was freezing.
“Eden!” Ren screamed from the far corner of the nursery. She was huddled there with the babies. Not that it would matter. Elyon would get them both. As soon as he destroyed Zuriel. Whom he was battling with unholy fury. Right in front of Eden.
Almost all sound from the fight was dampened, muted through the shimmering wall of magic that stood just beyond the reach of her fingertips. Not that her fingers were outstretched. Her hands hung limp at her side. Frozen. Air came in small sips, squeaking into her body past her frozen lungs because she had to breathe or she would die.
She was going to die anyway.
It had started when a shadow angeling appeared in the nursery. Just like that—pop—and he was there. An instant later, he killed Naphtali. The body still lay next to the door, her head rolled off to the side. Ren had screamed and run for the babies. Eden had just stared at the blood gushing on the floor. A split second later, Laylah charged in from outside the nursery, stumbling over the body. The attacker threw his blade straight into her chest then disappeared. Laylah had clutched at it, twisted, and disappeared.
Run away? Probably smart. Because a moment later, Elyon had charged through the doorway.
That’s when Eden froze.
He’d reached for her. His hand extended, eyes wild with the cruel pleasure he always had dancing in them. He’d reached for her… and she’d frozen. The only reason he hadn’t snatched her right then was because an instant before he could touch her, Zuriel appeared behind him. She’d erected the magic barrier, this shimmering force field that split the nursery in two. On one side: Eden, Ren, and the babies. On the other: Elyon and Zuriel battling with blasts of angel energy and screams so loud they shook the walls. Eden could hear the palace shake around her, even as the magic shield dampened the fight itself. Several angelings had tried to enter the fray—appearing inside the nursery on the side of the magic barrier with Elyon and Zuriel.
They were nothing but smears on the wall now.
She was frozen.
Not that she had anywhere to run or any way to fight… but this front row seat to the battle that would end her life held her transfixed.
The babies were crying behind her. She should go to them. And Ren, who was also sobbing. Elyon and Zuriel continued to fight, slashing at each other with energy and tremendous blades, long swords that split the air with sonic booms when they clashed, although it was all still muted behind the barrier. Slowly, like cold molasses heating under the blaze of their magic… Eden moved.
First, she unlocked her eyes from the fight. Then she dipped her head away. Then she slowly turned her back on it. Whatever the outcome, she couldn’t affect it either way. Her limbs weren’t working right, but she stumbled over to Ren and the babies. One was in the bouncy seat, the other in Ren’s arms. Ren was squeezing Ralphie too tight.
“Oh my God,” Ren sobbed. “Oh God, he’s going to kill us.” She was shaking all over.
Eden slipped her hands to Ren’s cheeks, pulling her gaze away from the fight. “He won’t kill you.” Her voice was unnaturally calm and sounded a thousand miles away. She had to raise it to be heard over the crying babies. “You’re Micah’s beloved.” Her hands were steady too. As if the whole nightmare reality were simply a dream. She gently pried Ren’s shaking hands from Ralphie and took the baby in her arms. She cradled him, and he immediately settled, although she could still hear his little whimper against her chest. “He won’t hurt the babies, either. He will simply return them to the nursery.”
He came for her—she knew this.
And even as the battle still raged, she knew he would win. And claim her. And take her back to hell.
Eden calmly walked to the middle of the nursery, next to the shimmering magic wall, still holding little Ralphie in her arms. She ignored the raging battle even as Zuriel was thrown against the wall and screamed. Eden knelt down to the baby bouncy seat, the one that hung like a miniature swing, only for babies whose legs were still getting strong enough to hold them up. She picked up the swing with one hand and strode back to where Ren sat curled up against the wall. Little Eva was in her bouncy seat but crying big, fat baby tears down her face. Eden set up the swing next to Eva and eased Ralphie into it. He was no longer crying, just staring at her with wide eyes. Eden picked up Eva next and rocked and rocked her, shushing her and petting her downy hair.
“It’s okay,” she said. Which it would be for them. This was her goodbye. “It’s going to be okay.” Eva’s cries settled to sniffled hiccups, then Eden put her back in her seat. Ren was giving her an incredulous look, but she also seeme
d a little calmer. She huddled down next to the babies, gently rocking them as Eden stood back up and turned to face the battle.
She was just in time to see Zuriel’s body sliced in two.
A jolt went through Eden as the two halves fell apart, each with a sickening thump on the carpet—one that could be heard even through the magic shield Zuriel had erected. But with the rending of Zuriel’s body, a flash of light blinded Eden, and when she blinked her eyes clear, not only was the body gone… but the shield was as well.
Air gasped into her lungs.
Triumph blazed in Elyon’s eyes.
Eden turned to run—blindly. She had nowhere to go, but flight had command of her body now. She ran for the door—but only made it halfway there. And invisible force grabbed her and lifted her feet from the carpet. God no. No, no, no. Panic choked her as the force held her tight, immobile except for her head which whipped frantically and her feet which pawed the air. The same invisible magic Elyon had used on her, time and again, to bring her to him. To hold her still while he… a scream bubbled deep inside her chest.
“Eden!” Ren was sobbing for her. Uselessly. But she was staying with the babies. Good. That was the only thing that kept Eden’s scream trapped in her chest. Don’t frighten the babies.
Elyon slowly turned her in the air, agonizingly slow, and as Eden turned, a dozen black-winged angelings appeared in the nursery. Micah. He was among them, his expression hardened like a rock. Poor Ren. That was all Eden could think at that moment. Poor Ren would lose the one thing she had—the belief that Micah had tried to save her. Had loved her. Enough to sacrifice himself to keep her safe. But this hellhole was only an illusion in its difference from the other hellhole. Now Micah was here to bring her back.