by Brenda Trim
“He’s already in Hell, Virgin,” she called out.
The minotaur roared as he fell to his knees, his claws slicing furrows down Ramiel’s neck. Rami cursed and stumbled before he kicked the beast to its back. Breathing heavily, the angel made his way to her side.
“You look like shit, Salsa,” he said as he knelt beside her and touched the tear in her jeans and her broken leg.
“You interrupted my beauty rest with all that racket,” she groused and winced as she climbed to her feet.
The bone was mending, but the skin was sealed shut, so no nasty critters were going to get into her system. The wound would disappear in the next few minutes.
“Sorry. I’ll be sure to slit their throat next time,” Rami said as he leaned against a tree trunk, catching his breath. “Is he dead?”
“Definitely. Angel fire burns demon souls from the inside out. But, Amon will have sensed his Guardian is dead. He’ll arrive any minute, but he’ll be too busy recreating another to focus on anything else. So, shake it off, Virgin. We need to head toward the outer ring where he punishes the murderers and plunderers,” Zakara called over her shoulder as she limped away.
After watching his display of power, she’d love nothing more than to find an empty house and fuck her angel senseless. He knew how to make a demon hot.
* * *
Chapter Thirteen
Limping, Ramiel cursed as he considered what they’d encountered within the first hour in the Underworld. Fighting that beast had been harder than any he’d faced thus far. Without Zakara’s help, he wondered if he’d have been victorious. Her distraction was the advantage he needed to win. Shoving aside his ego, he reminded himself that it didn’t matter how he won, only that he did. His mission was to save Izzy no matter the cost.
“How exactly are they punished?” he asked, hoping even worse enemies weren’t ahead of them. No way were murderers and plunderers given therapy and a chance to make amends.
“The demons here enjoy using fire,” Kara replied before she stopped talking and came to a halt on the rise of a hill.
Ramiel stopped just outside the tree line and gaped at a scene he could scarcely believe. They stood there staring down at an awful sight. Rami had never seen anything like it. He’d been told of the River Styx in the Underworld and recalled tales about it, but this eclipsed what he envisioned. This one contained boiling blood, and the surface was on fire.
“Is that the River Styx?” He didn’t recall the flames or the boiling water in the descriptions.
“Nope. That’s behind us. This section is the outer ring of the Seventh Circle,” she mumbled with her hand over her nose.
Rami gagged as the smell of burning flesh turned his stomach. “I assume these are the murderers and plunderers. What I’d like to know is how the fuck they have bodies to burn.”
The smell was revolting by itself, but then it seemed to combine with the brimstone and decay that permeated the Underworld and had Rami wishing a giant vat of bleach would fall from the sky. Glancing at Zakara, he was shocked to see the Fallen turn green as a pus demon. Surely, she was immune to the stench after spending millions of years living there.
As they approached the bank of the river, Rami saw that bodies and souls crammed the water, and he spat on the ground. The souls suffering untold torment deserved every second of their fate. The acts that lead to their predicament were despicable and made with free will. Doubt niggled the back of his mind. What about battered women that killed their abuser in self-defense or similar situations? Did they suffer in the river of fire and boiling water?
Shaking his head to dislodge the unpleasant thoughts, he surveyed the area. There was no way across. “I assume we have to cross this,” he observed. “I can fly us over, but what do we face next? Is the whole way like this?”
“Different variations on the same theme. Next, we hit the middle ring of the Seventh Circle. It’s my least favorite. This area is where individuals who’ve committed suicide are punished. Even the fact that it’s the hellhound nursery doesn’t make it more pleasant for me,” Zakara replied and stepped closer to his body. Her heat melded with his and sadly, he noted the scent of pie that usually permeated from her was absent. This place destroyed everything good.
“How are you not a cold-blooded demon?” he asked, thinking about how her selfish determination to survive, even at the cost of others, made sense.
It was impossible to live in this environment and not be affected. Kara was selfish with few morals, but she wasn’t entirely evil. Perhaps that was why she retained her human form with minimal demonic characteristics. Those tiny horns were nothing compared to what he’d seen.
“Don’t let my sex appeal fool you. I am cold, and I only care about myself. I didn’t agree with this little mission out of the goodness of my heart. Helping you rescue the child before she sets Lucifer free will ensure my way of life on Earth continues,” she told him before she wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her face to his.
For one brief moment, Rami lost himself in the blue depths and had the absurd urge to kiss her. Flaring his wings, he wrapped his arms around her waist and launched them into the sky.
Soaring above the river, not only did the stench grow worse, but the heat also blistered his skin. He looked down to see Zakara was also blistering. For some reason, he thought she’d be immune but then realized how ridiculous that assumption was. She was just as vulnerable as anyone else. Pouring more effort into his wings, they made it across before their flesh burned to the bone.
Setting Kara on her feet, he took a moment to send healing energy to his outer layers. The bruising he suffered from the minotaur would take longer to heal, but he was grateful when the skin knitted over and the sore disappeared. An angel traipsing through Hell oozing blood was like ringing the dinner bell.
“Let’s hope the rest is as easy to overcome as that was,” Rami muttered as he started walking away from the river.
Kara snorted and laughed out loud. “Dream on, Virgin. The Underworld won’t let you out until they’ve chewed you up and tore a few feathers.”
“That’s not an image I want running through my head. I like my feathers where they are,” he replied, enjoying their easy banter. That was one thing about being with Zakara. Their conversation was never flat, and it was easy to talk to her.
“So this is a hellhound daycare? You could have warned me it would smell as bad as the outer circle. The noxious gasses are making me lightheaded. And that must be mother’s milk for the little pups,” Rami quipped, as he stepped over puddles of toxic liquids of some kind.
Gnarled trees and bushes ranged far into the distance. Rami hoped for a split second there was nothing left in Hell but this and Izzy, but he knew better. He’d seen the frozen lake and cliffs in Izzy’s dream. The scene that surrounded him reminded him of a dead briar patch. It was similar to what he’d seen so far, but there was a different feel to the area here.
“What is it about this area? I can’t put my finger on it, but I can feel it. Is it the hounds?” he asked Zakara.
The Fallen lowered her hand and petted one large, black head. The hellhound drooled acid and bared wickedly big teeth. Ramiel would never have touched the beast like it was a common house pet.
“The trees and shrubs here are the damned. And, they give these little guys sustenance,” she replied as she gave another hound a treat she pulled from her pocket. He had no idea what it was, but was thankful she knew how to distract the “little guys.” There was nothing small or innocent about the demons surrounding them.
“They feed on the souls,” he said as he watched one gnaw off a branch. The blood and tissue that was left behind were nauseating to see. Ramiel had no idea they were the twisted bodies of those that committed suicide. The wrinkly grey trunk looked like a dead tree, not a person. Until parts were chewed off, that is.
It had never fully registered in his mind that suicide was a sin, but all those Sunday school lessons came back to him. Kill
yourself in a fit of depression, and you become hellhound food. The vilest revelation thus far was the fact that there were more souls here than there had been murderers and plunderers in the river.
Ramiel understood being so depressed there was no hope left in life. After he’d seen Elsie and her new life, he hit rock bottom and didn’t want to continue. Life wasn’t worth living if Elsie wasn’t his. It was Isobel that lifted the dark clouds and brought sunshine back into his world.
He may have agreed to be her Guardian Angel because of Elsie, but it was Izzy that won his heart. He’d go to the ends of the Earth…or the Underworld for that little girl, regardless of who her mother was.
“Can I kill them?” Rami asked as his need for vengeance surged hot in his blood.
There were numerous moments since he’d become an AOR that the urge to act nearly overwhelmed him and this was one of the worst. He wanted to obliterate every last hellhound in this nursery.
“Not if you want to get through here intact,” Zakara warned. “Not only are these demons fast, but Amon will also be here in a flash if his precious babies are injured. He will relish taking you prisoner.”
Ramiel fought the urge to jump as a hellhound sniffed around his wings. He’d been through plenty and doubted there was any angelic scent left on him.
“How can we leave these souls to suffer like this? This isn’t the same as walking past killers. These poor people killed themselves because they were suffering and there was no one to help them,” he said, thinking about his low moments.
“I used to help people like this. When I was an angel, I was a Joybringer and responsible for helping others find reasons to live,” Kara admitted. Rami recalled Ayil telling him about Zakara and her time in Heaven. It was still a shock to imagine her as an angel.
She knelt down and grabbed onto a branch that looked like it should have an arm attached to it. “It’s always been difficult for me to be here. Of all the places in the Underworld, this one reminds me the most of my time in Heaven. I wish I could help them, but I’m a demon now, and you’re an Angel of Retribution. There is nothing we can do but move on.”
The glimpse of compassion in her eyes was unmistakable. She wasn’t the demon she made herself out to be, and the more time Rami spent with her, the more confident he was that there was hope for her yet. Admittedly, he had no idea what he hoped for where she was concerned. She seemed perfectly content with her life as a Fallen, but he couldn’t deny the conviction that she wasn’t beyond salvation.
“Where to now?” he asked as they made their way past the feeding demons.
“Now, we go to the inner portion of the Seventh Circle where we will encounter hellfire meant to torment blasphemers. And, I have no idea how we are getting past this section,” she said as they cleared the nursery.
A groan left his throat at the sight that met them next. “You don’t have a trick to get through this?” he asked, hoping Kara was teasing him again. Otherwise, this was going to be painful as fuck.
“No tricks up these sleeves. At least it smells better,” she joked. But, Kara was right, less noxious odors surrounded them. “We are going to have to walk right through this section.”
“Easy for you to say. You don’t have wings that are about to be burned to ashes,” Rami barked, and instantly regretted it given the way her body tensed, and she pursed her lips. “Ah, fuck. I’m sorry. That was insensitive. What happened to your wings, anyway? I know not all Fallen lose their wings because of Crocell and Cresil.”
“How unlucky that you’ve met them. They are as evil as demons come. The sisters used to be Joybringers, too, but their time in the Underworld twisted their souls as it did to so many others. As for what happened to my wings. Someone took them from me,” she told him as she crossed her arms over her chest.
The act pushed her full breasts together and drew his eyes. She was gorgeous, and her breasts were perfect globes that tasted like sweet blueberries.
It was difficult to force his mind off that train of thought and focus on what she said. Only a creeper would stand in the middle of the Underworld and ogle breasts while sporting a hard-on.
“Who took them? And why would they do that to you and not the others?” he asked, genuinely curious.
She narrowed her eyes at him and remained silent for so long he was about to start walking again. “The archangels didn’t bother taking our wings because they felt casting us out was enough of a punishment. No, it was the asshole I gave my virginity and heart to that took my wings,” she spat.
The muscle that ticked along her jaw along with the shine to her eyes nearly had him keeping the next questions to himself, but he sensed she needed to talk about this. He could see how it still tormented her millions of years later.
“Why would he do something like that? And, why haven’t they grown back?” That last part seemed vital information to have since he understood his wings would grow back if removed.
“Jared was pissed that I called him out on his cheating and made him look like the asshole that he is in front of the Heavenly host. He denied we had a relationship and claimed I was creating everything in my head. No one believed it. They’d seen us together too many times and some, mostly my friends, questioned his morals. It was enough that he sought revenge when the time was right,” she whispered, her eyes downcast.
“I was so angry when I discovered my wife had moved on and married a vampire. I thought she betrayed me, but I died, and she had no idea that I was an angel or would be back in her life ever again. She had every right to move on, but I hated her for it. Now, I realize there was no reason to be upset. She never treated me poorly and showed me how much she loved me when I was alive. Jared is an idiot and has no idea what he threw away,” Ramiel murmured and placed his finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“Why haven’t they grown back? Camael told me if I ever lost a wing that it would hurt and I would probably want to die, but they would grow back.”
“Camael left rather important information out,” she stated. “But, in his defense, few demons know that injecting silver into the wounds prohibits regrowth. None of the hosts suspected an angel capable of such cruel behavior. They’re all above reproach,” she sneered.
“If I find this Jared I will remove his wings and bring them here to feed to the hellhounds,” he vowed as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
She choked out a laugh and shook her head. “Enough stalling, Virgin. Time to go.”
“Damn, I was hoping to avoid it altogether. Tell me there’s a snowy mountain at the end of this,” Ramiel said as the first flaming projectile hit his shoulder.
It burned through his shirt and into his skin before he brushed it away. The hailstorm of fireballs was so thick he couldn’t keep them from his clothes or skin. He lifted his wings and spread them over his head and pulled Zakara close, shielding her, too.
“No, you’ll suffer too much damage,” she protested.
“Shut the fuck up, Salsa. We’re doing this. All I need is for you to move your hot little ass,” he grunted. The agony of having his wings shredded by flaming rocks was unbearable.
He focused on the feel of her close to his body. If he leaned heavier on her for support, she didn’t complain. Blood streamed over them and projectiles hit them as they fell. Rami couldn’t take much more before he passed out. The wings he’d boasted about not long ago were fluttering to the ground as they burned to ash.
“Not that much farther,” she shrieked, as if she’d read his mind.
They stumbled through the blasphemers, and he gritted his teeth as he fell to his knees. His wings were a bloody mess. He wouldn’t be flying anytime soon, but he was relieved to see few injuries marring Zakara’s porcelain skin.
“Shit, Ramiel! Your wings,” she yelled, tears brimming her eyes.
“Is it safe for me to rest here for a few minutes? After I catch my breath, I can keep going, but I’m afraid there will be no flying for a while,” he admit
ted as he split his healing energy between his wings and his skin. He couldn’t afford to send all resources to his wings but needed them to heal enough that he could continue his journey.
“You take all the time you need. I’ll make sure no one bothers you,” Kara promised as she pulled a knife from behind her back.
“Stop flirting,” he muttered with a smile.
“C’mon, you know it makes me irresistible. And, you should be thanking me and kissing my feet, among other body parts. After all, I am the center of your universe,” she teased.
“I’ll get right on that kissing thing,” he muttered with a chuckle. His blood heated in his veins while arousal battled to break through the agony. Rami laughed at Kara’s comment as if she were joking, but the more time he spent with her, the more he felt she could become the center of his universe.
* * *
Chapter Fourteen
Cailyn clutched her mating stone. She was on the verge of losing it. Life was not what she’d hoped for when she mated Jace. She still recalled the Goddess telling her that the stone would protect their mating. At the time, Cailyn assumed the Goddess was referring to protecting them from the vile Lady Angelica.
Cailyn still shuddered when she thought about what that despicable sorceress did to Jace for over a century. Those days as her prisoner impacted Jace more than Cailyn knew. The emotional damage went cell deep, and Jace worked day and night to combat it and make changes, but his duty meant she rarely saw him or the progress he continued to make.
Now, years later, with loneliness bearing down, Cailyn had to wonder if the Goddess’s meaning went further than Lady Angelica. After all, Jace killed her months ago, so she no longer posed a threat.