The Fallen (Hades Castle Trilogy Book 1)

by C. N. Crawford

  With Zahra so close to me—or whatever the fuck her name was—I could feel myself about to snap. Then what might happen? I might kill everyone around me, rip out their hearts. Or, I might do something altogether different.

  Desire was a strange, pleasurable sort of madness. And it felt more dangerous to me than going to battle.

  As she stood in front of the two-way mirror, my gaze swept over the curves of her breasts, the silky material at the apex of her thighs, her shapely legs. I shuddered with pleasure, thinking of ripping all that off and fucking her hard against the wall.

  I’d known she was dangerous. And now I understood how she was dangerous.

  Dangerous … Zahra … desire … The words grew muddled in my mind, shadows sliding through my thoughts.

  Then, she pushed the button to open the door, and she stepped inside. Fire ignited in my body, and a sharp stab of hunger unfurled in me.

  Each one of my muscles went taut as she brushed against me in the tiny room.

  Take her… mine … lose control …

  I found myself pressing my hands against the mirror, leaning over her. Dominating her. My lips were by her ear, and I struggled to remember how to string words together in a coherent way.

  At last, I whispered, "What are you doing in here?"

  She went silent for a long time. I suspected that she was thinking of a lie. She lied a lot, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to fuck her or punish her or both.

  Then, she cupped her hand around the back of my neck, and my thoughts went black for a moment, driving out the ability to actually make considered decisions.

  She whispered something to me, but I could only focus on the feel of her hand against my neck, her warm breath against my cheek, and that silk camisole brushing against me.

  I would not let the darkness claim my mind. I was the Venom of God, and I would stay in control. But what the fuck had she been saying to me?

  I wanted to tell her things. For reasons I didn’t understand, I had the strangest sensation that I wanted to confess things to her.

  “What?” I asked, like an idiot.

  “There's a cop here. He saw me with Sourial today."

  I tried to make sense of what she was saying, then realized this was why she was hiding in here. “Fine.” My muscles were tightly coiled, and I felt like something was about to snap. Everything hinged on me restraining myself. “Did you hear anything valuable?”

  As she answered, I was thinking of pressing my mouth against her throat, tasting her. Biting. I wanted to hear her gasp.

  I hadn't been listening at all. "What?" I asked again, further cementing my status as an idiot.

  She pressed in close to me, her body warm. She said, “I didn’t hear anything. They were jabbering about people’s arses.”

  I sincerely doubted this was all she’d overheard, but I could hear her pulse racing, and that was distracting me.

  “Nothing about a book?” I whispered, trying to stay focused.

  She shook her head, eyes wide. Her brown eyes were pools of darkness, with sweeps of long dark eyelashes.

  “Book?” she asked.

  I closed my eyes.

  Liar. What was a person without their word? Language was a gift, and liars abused it. The world had been made through words.

  I opened my eyes again. “And what about the baron?” I managed.

  She was whispering again, but all I could think about was what it would be like to kiss her between her legs. My fists clenched.

  Why couldn’t I have dreamt of Ernald? He’d proven himself to be far more useful to me as a spy than Zahra was. And with him around, I wouldn’t risk losing my mind.

  I pulled my gaze away from her, trying to quench my desire, and glanced out the two-way mirror to my left. There was a woman with bright red hair lying across Lord Apedale’s lap. She was naked from the waist down, her backside red from being hit. Other women were writhing in the laps of the Free Men, shameless. I imagined myself for a moment with Zahra in my lap, half naked …

  They were smoking something, a pale smoke with a sweet scent. I could hear my own blood roaring, and the smell of lust bloom began to float through the air. That was what the common folks called the bright red flower that grew in some of the fields to the north. Long ago, they’d crushed it up and smoked it, and filled orgy rooms with incense. It was what they’d used for their pagan fertility festivals a thousand years ago, when they thought the gods would help them fertilize their fields if they fucked each other around bonfires.

  Now, the scent of that aphrodisiac was curling into this small space, filling it. I never thought it affected angels before, but now I thought I was in real trouble.

  With an iron will, I tried to clear my thoughts.

  It was just that Zahra seemed to be feeling the effects also.

  She slid her arms around my neck, and I shuddered with pleasure. I heard her heart race a little faster, and when I looked into her dark eyes, I saw that her pupils were dilating. As I breathed in her scent, I stiffened. Was that just the aphrodisiac, or …

  It was hard to think clearly. I was going to lose it. My blood pounded hard, thoughts sliding into shadow. I was going to lose control completely.

  Shadows whirled in my mind, and I was starting to shift, my true face emerging. I knew the beast was coming out, and flames were igniting in my eyes. My mind went black for a moment, then I realized one hand was gently around her throat, the other at her waist, my thumb pressing into the curve of her hip just over her silk panties. I wanted to rip this little bit of silk off her, to take her and make her mine.

  “Slide into you, fill you …”

  “What?” she whispered.

  Had I spoken out loud?

  But as the darkness descended, I had no idea what I might do next.

  And that was my last coherent thought before everything went black.

  31

  Lila

  Samael’s hand was clamped so hard on my hip that I was sure he’d leave a bruise. His other hand slid up my neck, and he threaded his fingers into my hair. With a sharp tug, he pulled back my head.

  His powerful body trapped me against the double-sided mirror. Slowly, one of his knees slid between my legs. My throat felt vulnerable to him—my whole body, really.

  I was in serious danger right now, because Samael no longer seemed in control. Being pinned here by him, pressed against him, fear entwined with a dark, forbidden thrill. Every inch of my skin felt sensitive, my pulse racing wildly. I tried to stay still, waiting to see if he’d release his grip on me.

  But the real question was—why in the hell was I so turned on by this? Because God, it felt good.

  He lowered his face to my exposed throat. A low growl rose from him, and I was sure that Samael was no longer himself. Something primal was overtaking him, and his grip on me was ferocious.

  I let out a slow, shuddering breath. Was he beguiling me?

  When I looked over his shoulder, I saw fiery chains snaking around his powerful body like serpents. My stomach swooped.

  Oh God. He’s a beautiful creature from Hell. He is the Angel of Death, and the entirety of his attention is focused on me right now, pinning me right where he wants me.

  My heart slammed against my chest. Crushed between him and the wall, I breathed in slowly, deeply, trying to marshal calm. This felt good, but what if he snapped and just killed me?

  As I took those deep breaths, I inhaled the sweet, exotic scent of lust bloom. It mingled with Samael’s masculine, iron aroma. I kept breathing, in and out, keeping my eyes closed. But my heart was still racing.

  All I knew was that it was my patriotic duty to open his cloak, and to run my hand over his powerful chest. I felt him shudder as I did, heard the sharp intake of breath.

  With his thumb on my hip, slid into my panties, his knee between my legs … I was dangerously turned on. Every point where Samael was touching me, waves of pleasure rocked through me.

  He leaned down, his mouth close to m
y neck, warming me with his breath.

  The next thing I knew, he was grazing his teeth over my neck. So gentle I gasped. The lightness of the touch was like an excruciating, sensual torture. Then, he pressed against the skin a little more firmly with his teeth, and warmth slid through my belly. I moaned softly.

  Good. This was good. I needed to seduce him. Bang up job, Lila. I just did what I must for my country. For Albia. It was absolutely not my fault if I was enjoying it.

  His thumb slid down a little more, and I was suddenly desperate for him to pull my knickers all the way off, to take me fast and hard up against the two-way mirror. I wanted him to thrust into me until I shuddered against him.

  Bloody hell, that lust bloom was strong.

  Sure, it didn’t hurt that Samael looked like a god. As his lips and tongue replaced his teeth on my neck, all the words left my mind, the blood flowing away from my brain.

  I brushed my hands down his back, and felt the phantom chains snaking over it, skimming over my skin with heat. His knee was still between my legs, and a sharp ache built in me.

  He pulled his lips from my throat.

  I chanced a look at his face, and my heart stopped. His gaze was scorching. His cowl had fallen back, and I’d seen it just for a moment—those flames in his eyes, whorls of gold over his cheekbones. All it had taken was one little glimpse, and my mind had started swimming with fear. Still divinely beautiful, but it was a face not meant for mortal eyes.

  I closed my eyes again, breathing slowly. In, out, in, out, a slow and deep drawing of breath.

  With another low growl, he gripped my hair and tugged my head back a little more, exposing my throat further. He wanted me completely vulnerable, in his power. And God help me, I liked it.

  His lips brushed my skin, and a wave of heat surged. He nipped, and another little moan rose in my throat. His thumb on my hip was moving now—still a firm, iron grip, but sliding up and down, up and down inside my panties.

  I’d planned to seduce him. Instead, I was completely at his mercy. My breath started coming faster, and I could smell that lust bloom in the air. It was becoming hard to think straight. With every movement, my silk camisole skimmed over my breasts, tightening my nipples to sensitive points.

  With his thumb in my knickers, he started to inch them down, ever so slowly, just one hip. Excruciating, so slow. My bare skin ached to be touched.

  With his mouth on my throat, his teeth closed on my skin again—light, but threatening. It seemed like he was deciding if he wanted to kiss me or tear out my neck. When I touched his steely chest, I felt his fingers flex on my hip.

  Then, his tongue swirled over my neck. His mouth moved over my skin, kissing, exploring, tasting. His hand was now sliding into my knickers, cupping my bare arse. I moved against him, wanting him to thrust his hand in further. I needed him to fill the sharp ache between my legs.

  Even if you hated an angel with every cell in your body, they could make you slick with a need that could drive you mad.

  I reached up, gripping his hair. I couldn’t look at his face again, that divine face I was never meant to see. I just wanted him to kiss me.

  And when he pressed his mouth against mine, my need grew hungrier. He kissed me deeply, tongue sliding against mine. The next thing I knew, he was lifting me up from behind, hands under my arse as he pinned me against the mirror. My legs wrapped around him, and one strap of my camisole fell down.

  He let out a low snarl as he tugged down the side of my camisole, exposing my breasts.

  But when he lifted his face to me, my heart went still.

  There it was—his true face. Perfect, divine, and terrifying. Metallic swirls gleamed on one half, and hellfire burned in his eyes. His eyelashes were black as night against the flames, and the fire cast warm light over his high, sharp cheekbones. Flaming chains snaked around his body, his arms. So beautiful, but not meant for me …

  I felt as if my mind was fracturing. He was divine, and I was mortal.

  I would die. It would all end, wouldn’t it? I’d die someday, and nothing meant anything. This was all temporary, the entire span of my life like the heartbeat of a hummingbird, and then just—gone.

  I couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t enough air in here. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to run away from him, or wanted him to save me, but—I was going to die, wasn’t I? Maybe not today, but it felt like it could happen at any moment.

  My mind went completely blank, but no longer with pleasure.

  Samael’s grip on me loosened, and I slid down his body. I was shaking now, my teeth chattering like I was freezing. I closed my eyes, but I still saw it there, a divine face sent to earth to deliver death from above.

  “You’re terrifying,” I whispered.

  He was Death, reaper of souls.

  Trembling, I found myself slipping out of the secret room, running up the stairs, and disappearing into the darkness of the night.

  32

  Lila

  Shivering, I stood on the riverwalk. Sailor pubs loomed up behind me, and narrow alleyways jutted off.

  I was lucky in one regard: no one had seen me run off the boat. I didn’t even see Sourial anywhere.

  On the other hand, I was still wearing nothing but the camisole and knickers.

  I knew a courtesan who lived nearby, a friend from the music hall. She’d get me something to cover myself while I steeled up the nerve to return to Castle Hades.

  My mind was whirling. In the realm of the angels, I was trespassing somewhere I didn’t belong.

  This was a terrifying, awe-inspiring world not meant for me. The golden tattoos, the eyes like infernos. The chains writhing around him, sparking with flames.

  Bollocks. I’d lost the ability to think clearly.

  Out here in the cool air, my breathing was starting to slow down, so I could at least think clearly again. I didn’t suppose what just happened constituted enough of a seduction that I’d made him vulnerable.

  The sound of footfalls made my heart race faster, and when I turned, I saw Sourial sauntering closer, a faint smile on his lips. “Looks like your evening has taken a bit of a turn.”

  I hugged myself. “There was a cop there. I saw him in Leather Apron Alley today. I thought he might recognize me as someone who spent time with you lot.”

  One of his curly locks fell in front of his eyes. “So you just ran off the boat?”

  At this point, it seemed stupid to keep the charade up. “I saw Samael’s true face, with the gold and the fiery chains.”

  His smile fell. “Oh. And you haven’t lost your mind completely?”

  It returned again, the image of his face. And with it, the fluttering of my heart, the fear and awe crackling up my spine. “Not completely.”

  “Do you remember what he looked like when his face changed?”

  “I will never forget it as long as I live.”

  He frowned. “Strange. Most mortals forget. They have to, or their minds break. Were you close to him when you saw his face?”

  “Quite.” I nodded at him. “Can I have your cloak?”

  “Right. Of course.” He pulled off his cloak and handed it to me. As I wrapped it around me, he drew his sword and started stalking toward the walkway.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “If Samael’s true face emerged, then death is on the horizon. I don’t want to miss out.” His sword glinted in the moonlight. “I want to help cut them down.”

  My stomach sank.

  And before Sourial even got to the cabin deck, the door slammed open. Out ran the women, two of them spattered in blood. They were naked, barefoot, screaming in terror.

  And they really wouldn’t make it long in this part of the city unless I helped them.

  “Ginger!” I shouted.

  Her screaming was incoherent, and she was not paying attention to me.

  “Ladies!” I shouted. “Stop running. There’s as much danger in these streets as there was on that boat.”

  The bl
onde woman was sobbing, but they stopped running, and started hugging themselves.

  I pointed up at a rickety stairwell that led to the top floor of a brick apartment building. “You see the light on the top floor? Climb the stairs. My friend Daisy lives there. Tell her that Lila sent you.”

  “Lila.” Ginger sniffled. “I knew that was your name.”

  I put a finger to my lips. “Tell her I said you need some clothes.”

  Ginger wiped the tears off her cheeks, and she looked confused. “I can’t remember what I was so scared of now.”

  “It was the …” the blonde started. “Was there a man? I remember a man, and we had to get away from him.”

  I pulled the cloak tight around me. “You did have to get away, and you can’t go back in there, understand? Now get up that stairwell before a bunch of unruly sailors spot us.”

  I watched as they headed for the stairwell, sniffling. Thanking me. Then, the sound of masculine screaming rang out from the boat.

  I whirled back to it, just in time to see the chinless blond twins running onto the deck. And behind them, Samael ran, his sword gleaming with blood. Fire burned in his eyes as he carved the sword through one man’s neck. He swung his blade the other direction, cutting down the second.

  They fell dead on the deck.

  My thoughts had gone numb, and I closed my eyes. Samael and Sourial were natural warriors, hellbent on crushing their enemies into dust. And that was exactly what they were doing now.

  I’d keep to my task; I’d do my bit as well as I could. Make Samael vulnerable, learn the secrets of the angels so we could fight back.

  From the rocking ship, screams filled the air, and nausea climbed up my gut. When I saw Samael’s face, I’d known death was near. It just turned out it wasn’t my own.

  After a few more minutes, Sourial stalked off the boat again, his sword dripping with gore. He sheathed it, smiling at me. “Turned out to be a good night after all.”