Embracing Eternity
Page 2
She wasn’t about to go with him now, either. She was no longer Heaven’s darling, and they could not be considered even casual friends.
“I think not, angel. My dinner is waiting and you are not invited.” She made a shooing motion and did her best to look as if she didn’t give a shit he was there.
“Your dinner died and his spirit has already left this place.”
The forced smile fell from her face. No, it couldn’t be.
She rose and stepped around Evan. The human sat slumped against the wall, his glassy eyes fixed upon nothing and his body but an empty shell. Evan was right. The human’s soul was gone.
No spirit. No power. The bastard had overdosed.
Shit.
She’d needed that meal. She’d spent too much energy finding and tempting him to come away with nothing.
“This is your fault. You distracted me so I wouldn’t take his soul.” Desperation welled and she lashed out, needing to blame someone.
“He was gone long before I arrived.”
“Liar!” She let her claws out and swiped at him. He’d cost her a meal, cost her the power she needed just to survive in this realm. Without it, she’d be forced to return to Hell a failure, and the price of failure was more than she could afford to pay.
But her weakness hampered her. He easily stepped away from her claws and she was thrown off balance.
Evan caught her before she could fall. Wrapping an arm around her, he held her to his chest, steadying her.
Ah, he was warm, and so peaceful. For a moment she let herself sink into his heat, let his heavenly aura push back her fear and hunger. His power enveloped her, fired her blood as his flavor coated her tongue. It was tempting, oh so tempting to stay there, pressed against him, taking in small tastes of him.
But he was her enemy. An angel. The one temptation a demon could not indulge.
She tried to push away from him but didn’t budge. His arms didn’t relax in the slightest.
“Come with me, Meela,” he said again, and a tingle of trepidation crept down her spine.
“Come where?”
“To Heaven.”
No, he couldn’t take her. She’d be a prisoner.
Panic hit and she shoved at him, taking another swipe at his face. His arms fell free as he dodged the venom-tipped points. She stumbled. Her shoulder hit the wall and she fell back into the corner, held upright by the aging plaster and trapped off balance by the angel before her.
What did angels do to their captives? Was it anything like what they suffered at the hands of demons?
An image of the last angel held prisoner by demons came to her.
Renatus. He’d once been a friend, a lover, and she’d been the one who’d worked to lead him astray. Because of her he’d been trapped, a prisoner of Lucifer and his minions.
The basest of Hell’s creatures had fed on him, left him broken and bleeding, his feathers ripped from his wings as they devoured his flesh. They’d taken him as close to death as an angel could go, only to leave him in agony while his power returned and his body restored itself.
Then they fed again.
And so had she.
She’d known then that she’d pay for her sins.
“Let me go.” Her tremulous voice transformed the demand to a plea.
“Come with me,” he said yet again, this time stepping close until his feet were between hers and his wings pressed the walls on either side of her. He sheltered them, captured her.
A willing prisoner? She thought not.
Meela raised her clawed hands once more and swung, aiming for his eyes.
She never touched him. Before she even saw him move, he had her wrists shackled by his hands, pinned to the plaster on either side of her head. He leaned in, pressing her body more securely to the wall.
Bucking, she tried to knock him away but only succeeded in throwing herself more off kilter and slipped farther down the wall.
He wasn’t a tall seraph, but being in the corner as she was put her at a disadvantage. Even with her heeled boots, her eyes were only at his collar.
Still, she fought him. Struggling to wrestle him, she pushed against him with her entire body. Grappling silently, frantically, for an opening, for escape.
With a hiss and a groan, he moved in closer, until they were pressed together from knee to chest.
She stared up at him, wide-eyed, her hands relaxing in his grasp.
Well, well. It seemed Heaven’s most untouchable seraph wasn’t so aloof after all.
Evan was hard.
She barely had time to process the feel of his erection pressing into her stomach before his mouth covered hers. Warmth flooded her, chasing away the chill of winter with the heat of arousal. It sizzled though her veins, electrifying her senses until her skin prickled and her toes curled.
Before her Fall, sex had been nothing more than a game, a fun way to spend time. She’d frolicked at some point with most of the seraphs in Heaven.
But never Evan, though he would have been willing. He was always too serious and she had wanted to play.
After she and the damned third left Heaven, sex became a survival skill. Sex was traded for bits of power, for moments free from hunger and pain. Wanting had ceased to play a part in whom she fucked.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had welcomed the feel of a body against hers, how long it had been since she truly yearned for the touch of another.
But now, she wanted.
A whimper escaped her and she tipped her head to the side, opening her mouth to welcome him inside. His tongue slipped past her lips, licking at her with gentle, almost innocent strokes.
Her body’s response was anything but innocent. She cursed the clothing separating them. If only she was stronger, she’d make the fabric vanish so they could be skin to skin.
She arched, trying to grind against him, to create friction with that deliciously hard cock burning against her belly. To urge Evan to move down and press that hot length against her core.
She needed this. The hunger, the satisfaction, the insanity of a hard fuck. It was as shocking in its intensity as it was in its source.
What was it humans said about the quiet ones?
Then Evan’s kiss became something different, something wholly unexpected. Sustenance and strength, the very essence of life, his power hit her, full force. Verdant and lush, it filled her starved body, taking away the gnawing hunger and replacing it with rich satisfaction.
The angel was feeding the demon.
Her body grew heavy and ached with arousal. She tried to move closer, to cling to him, but he held her firmly pinned to the wall. All she could do was accept his kiss, his gift.
To her frustration, he didn’t move either. He didn’t pull her closer, didn’t rub his cock against her. Despite her best efforts to fuel his lust, he simply let his lips and tongue caress hers as he restored her.
Did he not want her?
Perhaps he didn’t. The exchange of power was often arousing. That hard cock could mean nothing. Simply a byproduct of his fattening her up for whatever awaited her on the other side of the Pearly Gates.
That thought was enough to tamp down her wayward arousal. She’d allowed herself to forget, for the barest of moments, that they were enemies. That sex wasn’t about pleasure and angels were not to be trusted.
She twisted her head, forcing his mouth from hers. The crystalline cold of the winter air hit her a split second before she took her new power and vanished from his arms.
Chapter Two
Evan let his head drop to the plaster before him and closed his eyes tight. What had he just done?
Merciful heavens, he’d kissed her. Kissed Meela. The angel he’d loved forever and the demon he’d mourned since her Fall. Her body had trembled against him and he knew if he licked his lips, he’d taste her smoky flavor clinging to them.
He grimaced and reached down to tug at the fly of his jeans. The human clothing had seemed to be a good idea. Somet
hing to make him look less angelic, more approachable. Safer.
He hadn’t anticipated that she would be in his arms, her body against him, fighting him, rubbing against him.
Merciful Heavens…the friction.
The attempt to calm her had become an embrace, and the embrace had turned to something more, something which ought not to have been. Worse yet, he’d fed her, given her his power. The essence of life and strength, coveted by all demons, and he’d simply filled her up, given her as much as she could take.
“What in Heaven’s name are you doing?”
Evan sighed and turned to face the newcomer. He should have known Raphael was nearby. The Archangel of Guardians watched his angels as closely as they watched over their charges.
“Saving a soul?” Even to his own ear, that answer sounded idiotic.
“A soul? The soul you should have been guarding has long since gone. That was a demon.”
The human had been beyond saving. A disparate life had closed him off to the urgings of any Guardian long ago. Evan had been unable to stop the man’s downward slide into Hell.
Until recently, he would have said the same of Philomela. Demons, after all, were known to be soulless, without conscience or qualm.
But something had changed. She was showing signs of regret and remorse, the first cues a lost human soul was ready to be found.
Surely it was no different for the Fallen.
“Meela is an angel. She belongs in Heaven.” Evan fought to regain control of his emotions. The last thing he needed was for Raphael to see him longing for the kiss of a demon.
He turned slowly, certain his superior could tell that his motivation in kissing Meela had been less than divine.
The archangel wore an aura of Heaven’s purity and his golden plumage still glistened with its glory. His frown of disapproval, however, was anything but Heavenly.
“If that was a jest, it wasn’t amusing.” Raphael shook his wings in irritation.
For a moment, Evan debated. To admit his suspicions would invite unwanted scrutiny, but ignoring them could mean Meela would lose her only chance at redemption.
And he, his only chance to be with her.
“You do not believe a demon can be redeemed?”
Raphael shot him a look of disgust. “Redemption is for mankind, not beings of the Realms. You know this.”
“I know nothing of the sort.” There had to be redemption. Everyone deserved mercy, didn’t they? Even demons.
“Stubbornness and denial are not virtues you should embrace. I will remind you they did Dominicus no good.”
Evan looked away from his superior, shamed. He was right. Those were not character traits befitting an angel, especially one whose duty it was to guide others to truth.
And yet, while those traits had earned Dom a two-centuries-long banishment, they had also given him Maggie, a human woman whom he loved, and who loved him in return. Maybe a little stubbornness and determination would bring Meela to Evan as well.
She was as lovely to him as she’d ever been, even in demon form. Her blackened scales and red eyes meant nothing to him. The sweet and generous spirit he’d once loved was still there, still beautiful.
“Evangelos.” Raphael’s voice gentled into a tone of understanding. “I realize that you always held Meela in your affections, even though she never returned your sentiments. You must not let nostalgia or lingering tenderness for what she once was cloud your judgment. If she uses the power you’ve given her to do evil or corrupt Creation, there will be consequences. You realize this, don’t you?”
“She won’t.”
“You cannot know this. She is a demon. Evil is her nature.”
“No, evil is how she survives. I do not believe she will interfere with mankind if she isn’t being driven by need.” The words were strong and firm despite his reservations. Power was the central force that drove demons. Without that need, Meela would have no reason to prey upon humans. It was a theory he’d hoped to prove by feeding her, but his confidence was not so strong that he welcomed the archangel’s oversight.
Meela had always been a tease, a cherub who liked to play. Evan would go so far to say she had been careless with the affections of others. But she had never been mean-natured, as some of the others who had Fallen. Cruelty simply wasn’t her way. It was just one more thing that made her choice to accept banishment so hard to understand.
When she’d returned to Earth two days earlier, he’d also noted a change in her. Something about her was different. Others might not see it, but they didn’t know her as well as he did. He’d watched her for centuries, protected far too many humans simply because he would be close to her. No one in Heaven or Hell knew Philomela as well as he did. There was a sadness, a remorse she hadn’t shown before. At times, like tonight, she seemed to regret her actions.
Something had changed. He was certain of it. Meela wanted to return to Heaven. He was determined to be the one to bring her home.
“You had better pray you are right.” Raphael looked around the hovel, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “Why don’t you return home to consider your actions?”
“I’m being recalled?” If he was forced to return to Heaven, he wouldn’t be able to intervene if Meela did misuse the power he’d given her.
Raphael’s face was solemn as he studied Evan.
“Not recalled, simply given time to think this…situation through. Your current course is dangerous, Evangelos. We are guardians. It is our duty to protect humans, not place them in greater danger. There could be great repercussions, especially for mankind.”
The reprimand stung. By helping Meela he was neglecting the welfare of humans.
And yet he could not bring himself to forsake her.
“You were her friend once, Raphael.”
“Most seraphs were. Philomela was a very friendly cherub.” The corner of Raphael’s mouth twisted in what might have been sarcasm and Evan’s face went hot at the reminder.
Even for a place where love and affection were freely given, Meela had been quite giving in nature. Watching her flit from male to male had been the closest thing to torture Evan could have imagined.
At least until judgment had passed and the cherub he loved had become a creature unlike anything they had ever seen.
He could not accept that this was to be her final fate, that her eternity would be spent as a creature of darkness, feeding on the soiled power of lost and dying humans. He had to save her, to take her back to Heaven, where she belonged. There simply had to be a way.
But how? He was a protector, not a legalist. The Law was something he obeyed without question, but he never studied its intricacies.
He needed help from one who had. He needed an Angel of Annunciation.
Renatus. He knew more about judgment and the Law than anyone, second only to the Archangel Gabriel. If she could be saved, Ren would know how to do it.
He moved to the window and studied the city street through the dirty and broken pane.
“I will return home for the evening as you suggest, but I would like to visit Ren first.”
Raphael nodded his agreement before turning to the broken window. “Wish him well for me. Go now. There is a policeman headed this way. I will nudge him toward this unfortunate.”
Evan didn’t trust himself to say more. With a formal bow, he thanked the archangel and left.
* * * * *
Meela shivered. With all of that fresh power she could have gone anywhere, but she’d ended up going no farther than the roof of the tenement across the street.
She’d meant to pick somewhere warm. A tropical island or maybe the Amazon. But the thought of lush greenery and heat had led to thoughts of Evan. Instead of basking in the heat of the sun or the jungle’s humidity, she sat on a snow-covered roof, trying to catch a glimpse of him and thinking of his kiss.
Oh, what a kiss. Intense and consuming, it had taken her from despair to near ecstasy in a mere heartbeat. How had she never kissed him be
fore? If she had, Lucifer would have never stood a chance.
Why had he done it? Try as she might, she couldn’t think of a good reason for an angel to feed a demon.
Unless he was still infatuated with her.
She bit her lip and leaned over the edge of the building, trying to peek in the window. Just one last look at Evan before she went her own way. But she could see nothing in the darkened window. Was he even still there?
She’d never even considered him when she was still an angel. He was an oddity, friendly and well liked, able to set those around him at ease. But at the same time he was a bit of a wallflower, never invited to join in their fun and games, easy to overlook. When the other angels were letting loose he simply smiled and stepped aside, never participating.
Had he ever learned to relax and have fun?
Probably not.
Now angels had jobs, duties to fulfill. All the morals passed on to humans had probably put a damper on playtime.
Which probably suited ol’ stick-up-his-ass Evan just fine.
But not her. No way. Meela had always liked fun. She loved watching the seraphs fawn over her, loved their hard bodies over her, under her, inside her.
Damn, but she missed that kind of sex. Not that there was any sexual shortage in Hell. The act was there in abundance. She could have her choice of males. Or females. Both at the same time if she wished. But Hell made everything different. Instead of making her feel good, vibrant and alive, she always felt dirty and used. It was an obscene parody of the genuine exchange of affection she’d once known.
That was what she missed. Hell was an easy fuck, but there was no love.
Movement at the window caught her attention and Evan came into view. The lights from the street revealed very little through the dirty glass, but it didn’t matter. He was there.
Was he looking for her the same way she looked for him? Did he feel the same pull, the same reluctance to part?
Did he want to kiss her again?
Her stomach trembled at the thought. His lips had felt so good on hers, so right. His body had been warm, and hard, and yet at the same time tender and giving.