Crave (Tainted Angels Book 1)

by D H Sidebottom

  My head flew to the side when he punched me on the side of my head. I didn’t have the energy to turn back to look. My eyes fixed on Bobby as I tried to reach out to him – just one touch, that was all he needed. His aura was morphing, the shimmering air around him turning dark. “Bobby,” I choked out as I stretched my fingers in attempt to just fucking reach him. “God damn you!” I screamed as my body refused to do what my brain tried to instruct.

  For a moment I thought I was imagining it. The trickle of my blood that weaved across the pale grey concrete seemed to shift as it appeared to … move.

  I moaned when I heard my attacker yank at his zip. I tried to shake my head but the icy chill that was taking over refused me any movement. My body was paralyzed, my mind the only thing working, but not properly by the look of my blood trail twisting and morphing. It had to be the alcohol that was giving me hallucinations. It had to be. Either that or I had finally lost my marbles.

  “What in …”

  The whole of me froze, even my mind, when each spilt cell of my blood came together, mutating, altering and gluing together. I stared in horror and amazement as the most stunning succubus I had ever seen emerged out of the red liquid. She stood tall, her long, shapely legs sheathed in fishnet stockings and black leather boots. Her supple body was encased in a black leather basque, her face perfection, entrancing me in her beauty as a curtain of black hair fell down past her shoulders and over her pert buttocks.

  She grinned down at me, her ruby red lips lifting high. She winked at me with a glint of wickedness twinkling in her pure blue eyes when, from behind her back, the most elegant whip snaked through the air and took my assailant down in one single strike, his severed head bouncing across the car park and coming to rest directly in front of Bobby, whose eyes were so wide and on the glorious nymph that I was unsure if he was still alive.

  “My mistress is served.” The succubus inclined her head reverently and then kind of melted into me.

  I gasped loudly as my lungs filled, the pain ceased and the shimmer in the air disappeared. Looking down, I stared as the wound in my chest disappeared in record time. My body felt good, my bones tingling with pleasure.

  Bobby moaned, taking my attention back to him.

  Closing my eyes for a moment, I looked up into the night sky. “I know this is against the rules,” I whispered to him, “but he’s my friend.”

  And then I lifted Bobby into my arms and took him inside.

  Bobby stared at me, then down to his now healed stomach and then back to me. “I knew it,” he whispered causing me to frown at him.

  “Knew what?”

  He pointed at me, his finger shaking with the adrenaline and shock, probably. “You’re a … a witch!”

  I bit down on my lip to stop myself from laughing. I was surprised he hadn’t screamed the place down to be honest. He was pale, stunned, yet he was also still in control of his mind. “I’m not a witch, Bobby.”

  I felt him before he materialised. A warm shimmer in the air, a footstep behind me and the widening of Bobby’s eyes told me he had arrived. “Took your time,” I said without turning to him.

  My body was spun round. His hands on my shoulders and the way he squeezed tight confused me. “What the hell happened?” Rax stumbled over the words as his eyes raked over me thoroughly.

  “I’m fine.”

  He studied me then nodded. “Yeah, but what happened?”

  I was a little angry that he’d decided to make an appearance after the actual event. “Where were you?”

  He cringed, his eyes moving away from me. I scoffed and shook my head. “Typical. I got stabbed in the chest, nearly raped, my blood turned into a fucking minion, poor Bobby died and I had to bring him back, and you were getting your end away!”

  He stared at me, his eyes bulging. “Minion?” When I didn’t answer him, his eyes narrowed into slits and his grip on my shoulders hardened. He paled and his mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he finally got the words out. “Willa! Did you say your blood shifted into a succubus?”

  I stilled, my head tipping as I regarded him. “I didn’t say it was a succubus. How did you know that?”

  “Shit!” he hissed, dropping his hands from me and stepping back. Without warning he burst back through his ‘hatch,’ as he called it, and disappeared.

  Slowly my gaze shifted back to Bobby. Give him his due, he hadn’t passed out - yet. He was frozen immobile and I grimaced, sitting before him in the opposite chair. “Are you okay?”

  His eyes shifted to mine. Miraculously, he nodded slowly. “Who are you?” His voice was quiet, his wariness coming to the front but I was impressed with his courage.

  “I’m not sure explaining that will make this any easier for you.”

  “I’m not sure it can make it any worse,” he whispered, unable to get his voice any higher with the restriction in his throat.

  Taking a deep breath, I went for it. “I’m what you know as an angel.”

  His brows shot into his hairline. I’d expected him to laugh to be honest, but he didn’t. Strangely, he just nodded. “So that’s how you healed me?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Usually I take souls back to Utopia.”

  “Utopia?”

  “Heaven. I’m a soul taker. I fight the Gehenna for souls.”

  “Gehenna?”

  I knew I was confusing him but Bobby deserved the truth. I could see that he was a good person. This was a new ability, and one I liked. “The bad guys,” I whispered, trying to make it easier for him.

  He took a deep breath then blew it out. “And your friends?”

  “Frannie is a cleanser. They take all the bad souls I manage to ... win, and they kind of set them back to default settings so they’re accepted into Utopia.”

  “Default settings,” he mumbled, repeating what I told him. Maybe this helped him to understand it better, so I just nodded.

  He leaned forward, his eyes scanning the room as though he was trying to hide a secret from the furniture that surrounded us. “Can I see your wings?”

  I laughed. “Wings are a legend, Bobby. Angels don’t really have wings.”

  “Really?” A deep sigh of disappointment left him.

  “Unfortunately, yes. It’s been told in many books that several eons ago they did.” I settled back into the chair and sipped at the brandy Bobby had poured for us both, the previous alcohol that had been keeping my veins warm had evaporated, or bled out onto his car park. “Legend tells that one specific angel, Delilah, fell in love with a dark angel, Strauss. Their love, of course, was forbidden. Light and dark should never be mixed and all that shit. A bit like your Romeo and Juliet story. To simplify the story, Delilah left Empyrea and set up house with Strauss down under in Gehenna.” Bobby’s eyes were wide but fixed on me, eager to hear the legend of why angels lost their wings. “God was fuming at her betrayal. Now,” I lowered my voice so holy ears weren’t able to listen, “you might think that God is all … how shall I put this … easy going? But in reality, he has a hell of a temper. He manipulated Delilah, and to cut a long story short, she stabbed her own lover in the heart.”

  Bobby gasped, his eyes filling with tears. I wanted to chuckle but thought that would be quite unsympathetic so I coughed and cleared my throat. “Diablo, horrified by the loss of his son, burnt her wings, cursing her to a life in the realms of a hell she had only endured for her lover. He ruled that no other Empyrean could enter Gehenna.” I shivered, wincing at the knowledge that there was one certain angel who could. “That way, Delilah could never be saved, or another one of his sons could never die at the hands of an Empyrean in his home. God, angered by his daughter’s betrayal, cursed that angel’s wings would be no more. That way he figured they could never leave.”

  “But, you’re here … without wings.”

  I chuckled as I stood up, stretching my back. “It’s just myth, Bobby. And here is only Earth.”

  He nodded grimly. “That’s quite sad.”

  “
It’s bloody annoying. I’d kill for wings.” I sighed as I kissed his forehead and left him alone for the night.

  Her body tossed and turned on the sheet as I sat in the soft chair in the corner of her room, clutching an aging stuffed chipmunk that had been tucked into the corner of the chair. She’d been asleep for hours. I wanted her to wake, yet strangely, I was comforted by her soft snores. I hated that she smelled so damn good. I wanted to sink my teeth, the ones I was struggling to shift back into my gums every time I was near her, straight into her pelvic artery.

  I craved the thing I knew she could give me. I hungered for the nectar that ran through her veins. My body begged me to take it from her, and although, originally, that was all I had hounded her for, something had shifted inside me the more I had come to learn of her.

  My gut trembled when I thought of what she had told me earlier. A minion. A fucking succubus. Nothing made sense.

  “Rax?”

  My eyes shot to hers when she woke. She frowned at me and pushed herself upright. I growled when the sheet dropped to her waist and her perky, fat nipples strained against the silk of her pyjama top.

  On hearing my reaction, she quickly pulled the sheet up to her neck. Like that could save her. I was salivating, every movement she made making her scent tickle my senses, tormenting my resistance.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I pushed myself out of the chair, strolled over to her, and sat on the edge of the bed. She watched me curiously. She wasn’t afraid of me, but I could see she was apprehensive. “I won’t hurt you, Seraph. I won’t ever hurt you.”

  Her eyes widened when, very softly, I reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from where it had glued to her cheek. “Rax?” She sensed my inner turmoil. I wouldn’t be surprised if she physically felt it too.

  “We need to talk.”

  She blinked then moved under the covers, shifting her body to the edge of the bed. Very lightly, and perhaps nervously, she tapped the bed beside her. She stunned me with her bravery and her mettle. We were arch enemies, always had been, yet here we both sat, in Empyrea of all places, tucked up in bed together in her apartment that she shared with her brother.

  The beat of my heart stilled when she leaned against me and snuggled into my chest. My teeth snapped and my jaw trembled when I fought to push them back. Willa gasped then moved away quickly. “Sorry,” she whispered with a look of guilt, her face tightening into a slight grimace.

  Narrowing my eyes, I regarded her. “You know what you smell like to the Gehenna, and the dredgen?” I added with a hiss.

  She nodded and sighed. “I gather I’m a little different to the others.”

  “Different.” I mused over the word. “Miracle would be better.”

  She frowned at me then giggled, the soft sound making my cock hard. I was fucked. Quickly I moved away, taking refuge in the chair once again. Smiling in understanding, she settled back down but kept her face to me. “Miracle? I’ve been called many things but never that.”

  I was puzzled for a moment, then it sank in. “You don’t know?”

  “I don’t know what?”

  “What you are.” I couldn’t quite believe it. She had to know. She had to.

  “What I am?” she murmured in confusion. “I’m a seraph. A soul taker.”

  “The fuckers!” I breathed out as I shook my head. “They haven’t told you.”

  “Who and what?” she asked slowly when she sensed my amazement.

  “Your parents. They never told you.”

  “Rax, will you spit it out for hell’s sake!”

  Closing my eyes for a moment, I drew in a steadying breath and leaned forwards, resting my tired arms on my knees. “The Gehenna and the dredgen are dying, Willa.”

  Her eyes widened. She shot upright and stared at me in horror. “What?”

  “Wow,” I whispered. “I can’t believe they kept you in the dark about this.”

  She climbed out of bed and came to her knees before me. My skin tingled when she took both of my hands in her own. “How? Why? I don’t understand any of this, Rax. You can’t be dying. You can’t.”

  “All of our race is, Seraph.” I reached out and cupped her face, her despair seeping into me and intensifying my own desolation. Warmth spread within me. Willa’s breathing deepened into soft pants as she pressed deeper into my palm. “I always thought you were just being selfish, that you didn’t care.”

  “Selfish?” She looked affronted for a second, then once again calmed as I pressed my skin closer to her. “How come I’m selfish?”

  “With your refusal to help us. But I know now that you were just ignorant to the fact.”

  Her eyes widened and she gasped, a look of hurt covering her face as she flinched with my statement. “I’m not ignorant nor selfish, Rax. Why would you ever think that?”

  “Because you won’t share your blood.”

  She reared back, her mouth popping open and severing our connection. “What the fuck? Why the hell would I let you drain me alive? I’m selfish because I won’t let you eat me?”

  I smirked, amused by her choice of words. My cock twitched when visions came to mind of my head buried between her sweet thighs, my tongue tickling her swollen clit as her fingers yanked on my hair, her moans of pleasure encouraging me. Pushing them back I cleared my throat. “You’re the cure to the disease, Willa.”

  She froze. The only thing moving was her throat as it bobbed up and down like it had a life of its own. “Say again.”

  My mouth dried when my blood tingled angrily. She was so close, the very thing I needed to stop the thing that was killing me slowly. Resisting temptation had never been so damn hard. I was used to having anything I wanted, and I wanted this seraph with a debilitating need. Yet, something was stopping me. Something unknown inside me told me not to rip her pretty neck open and take every single drop from her.

  “You, my little seraph,” I whispered as I leaned into her, the lure of her becoming too much. “You’re the one thing that can stop the agony that breaks me more every day. Your blood is the only thing that can heal me.” She blinked at me, tears pooling in her eyes when she felt death slowly eating its way through me. “Your gift to me could allow me to keep breathing, sweet thing.”

  She nodded slowly, her breathing dipping the closer I got to her. She inclined her head to one side, exposing her long, soft neck, offering herself to me. “Take me,” she whispered. “You can have it. It’s yours.”

  My body was on fire, the excitement in my gut overwhelming with the chance of redemption she so easily gave. I was so close to her that I could see the ripple of goose bumps slide across her pale skin, each of her hairs springing to attention under the heat of my breath.

  However, just as I poked my tongue out and it touched her edible flesh, she quickly jumped back. “You mustn’t!” she cried out, her head shaking manically as she pushed me away with the flat of her hand on my chest. “You can’t!”

  Damn!

  “The dredgen!” she declared with a look of utter horror.

  I spun around, readying myself for the fucking half-bred prick but no one was there.

  “I killed him! He drank my blood and he died!” she declared with a look of terror, her eyes widening with alarm. “If you take my blood, you’ll die!”

  I realised she was mumbling about the prince of the toilet block on Trent Avenue; the dredgen that had munched on her then turned into her minion. Stunned, I stared at her. She was terrified, horrified. “I nearly killed you!” she rambled on. “Shit, I could have killed you!”

  For a moment I couldn’t speak, her concern shocking me. She was Empyrean. I was Gehenna. We were constructed to kill each other; it was in our genes. I wasn’t ever supposed to enter Empyrea, or her Gehenna, yet here we were, conversing not just mentally, which in itself was crazy, but talking and touching in her room. She’d summoned a succubus for fuck’s sake. I’d rushed to Jaron to ask him how she’d managed that when I knew that only dark magic c
ould grant what was needed to bring one forward, but he’d been as dumbfounded and shocked as I was. But now I understood exactly how she’d done it. Why did I not see it before?

  It hit me at once and I stared around her bedroom. The dark colours, the crazy posters she had on her wall. Then I snapped my eyes back to hers, the deep blue with a hint of brown staring back at me. My gaze moved to her lip ring, her nose ring – everything UN-angelic about her.

  “Oh my fucking shit!” I choked out.

  She stilled. “What?” She looked behind her, checking to see if there was someone there.

  “No …” I muttered as I fell back into the seat and stared at her. “No, it’s not possible!”

  “RAX! What?”

  “You’re a half breed!”

  Her gasp of offence barely registered in my head. “I am not one of those filthy creatures!” She referred to dredgen who were half vampires and half living-dead.

  “Not a dredgen!” I struggled to form words, but when I finally got them out, her eyes rolled and she once again passed out in my arms. “You’re half and half, my little seraph. You’re both dark and light. Empyrean and Gehenna.”

  Rax was still in my room when my eyes reopened. My head throbbed – again. The headaches had gradually been getting worse and I made a mental note to visit the infirmary.

  “Hey, Seraph.” His tone was soft but I sensed his irritation with my frequent fainting spells.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

  Frowning, he planted himself on the bed beside me. “What for?”

  Shrugging, I could feel the heat on my cheeks. “I can’t understand why my father made me a soul taker. I’m a wuss.”

  He laughed then quietened when he saw my shame. “Hey,” he whispered, his voice warm and comforting. I stilled when he slowly slid his fingers into mine. His grip was hot and I shivered when heat travelled up my arm and tingled around my body, settling right between my legs. “You are not a wuss. You’ve had a shock.”