Embracing Eternity Read online

  Meela shivered. He was right. If one had found her, it would have called others. They would have torn her to shreds and then led Lucifer to the leavings.

  “Lucifer didn’t make them. They just…happened. One day there was this little creature running around and no one, including Lucifer, knew where it came from.”

  It had amused the Master, though. He was thrilled by its vicious nature and the glee it took from the misery of Hell’s residents. He’d taken her, beating and raping her, just to watch her pain excite the nasty little thing before leaving it to feed on her.

  No. She shook her head and pushed back the memory. She couldn’t let her mind go back to that place. She had to remember to leave Hell in Hell.

  She reached out and brushed her finger against the wall of power in front of her. It popped like a bubble, rupturing under her fingertip to peel back and vanish in the blink of an eye. The chill of a Michigan winter hit her and she was once more in the decayed shell of the abandoned theater in which she’d been resting.

  She’d made her nest in a back corner, behind the last row of chairs. The carpeting was stained and falling apart, but it offered a small bit of warmth, and the cavernous auditorium made it difficult for anything to sneak up on her.

  After the bright illusion of summer, the darkness made her eyes ache. The stench of animal and human waste permeated the air. The sharp ammonia of urine mixed with the overwhelming sweetness of rodent droppings and bat guano, and her stomach flipped in revulsion. She took a deep breath and let the odor burn her lungs.

  Welcome back to reality.

  “The illusion was hiding us,” Evan warned. “They can find you now.”

  “I’m awake. I can defend myself.” The lie tasted pretty on her tongue, but she knew it would sour as soon as one of Hell’s minions arrived.

  “You’re weak. At least let me feed you.”

  Feeding. Hunger rippled through her and temptation reared its head again. She couldn’t say which appealed more, the sweet power he offered or the sweeter kiss that would come with it. The power she would take.

  The kiss was too dangerous.

  Caution trumped want. She took a step toward him and held out her hand. It wasn’t as efficient as a kiss, but the power would transfer.

  So what if this branded her as a coward. Cowardice was just another name for self-preservation, after all, and Meela believed wholeheartedly in saving her own skin.

  She ignored the knowing look he gave her as he took the hand offered.

  A gentle wave of energy washed over her and she basked in its lush and lazy glow. It filled her, fed her, gave her strength.

  It was everything a demon lived for.

  His thumb grazed over the back of her hand, outlining her knuckles with delicate circles. His touch was hesitant, as if he knew the caresses skirted a fine line. He pressed her hand between his, lending it the warmth and protection she wouldn’t let him give her.

  He turned her hand over in his and began to trace the fine lines of her palm, studying them intently as if he were a human fortune teller, seeking answers to questions he couldn’t voice.

  Her world shrank to his hand caressing hers, her forever to that one moment in time. Breathing became difficult and nothing mattered but that point of contact, the feel of his skin touching hers.

  He lifted her hand, raising it by slow degrees toward his face.

  She tore her gaze from their joined hands to meet his. His face was flushed, his eyes dark and needy.

  His power, his essence, pressed into her. It trickled through her, a rivulet of warmth against the chill of her soul, stoking hunger instead of quenching. Feeding carnality and leaving her gasping for more.

  She dropped his hand, quick as if he’d burned her.

  “That’s enough.”

  “You are still hungry.”

  “No, it was enough.”

  “Then I’m still hungry.” He took a step forward, slow, testing, and she couldn’t make herself back away. The deep green of his eyes held to her. The air around her seemed to thicken, until it clung to her and every move felt like swimming in caramel.

  “This isn’t wise. Someone will come. Angel or demon, someone will find us.”

  “Not yet. We have a little more time.”

  Another step and he was close enough that she could feel his heat. Close enough to smell him, to taste him on the air she breathed.

  Just like that, temptation won.

  She swayed and his arms were around her, holding her tight against his body. Heat and power overwhelmed her even before his mouth met hers.

  Hunger. Power. Need. The three blended into one and she was lost to everything but Evan. Everything but the sensations ripping through her body.

  The world tipped and she was spinning. He’d turned them until her wings were pinned against the cold plaster, trapped by his hard heat against her front.

  Meela writhed, trying to get closer, wishing she could crawl inside his skin and become a part of him.

  His leg eased between hers. More heat, more pressure, right where she wanted, where she needed it most. It was fast and ferocious. Everything between them, from the moment she’d awakened, had been leading to this moment, to them coming together. Their frantic movements took on a rhythm, point and counterpoint with gasps, sighs and hums of pleasure. Heat and need pooled in her core, growing, bringing with it an achy weight that pulled at her, made her want to scream, to fly.

  She writhed, fighting to grind against him, to get all that heat and pressure right on her clit, right where she needed it most.

  Shit. Oh holy fucking shit. She was so close. She had to come. Needed to come.

  Her body was wound tight, ready to explode. Who would have thought that Evan would be the one who could make her feel this way? Of all the angels in Heaven…

  Angels. He was an angel. Consorting with her was inviting retribution.

  She broke their kiss with a gasp and shoved at him.

  He complied immediately, releasing her despite the dazed look of confusion in his eyes.

  “This cannot be,” she panted. “I’m a demon. I’ve damned myself, I won’t damn you as well.”

  “Meela—” He leaned in, ready to argue…or kiss her again. She stopped him with a hand over his mouth.

  “Don’t say it. Whatever it is, don’t.” She held herself stiff until he backed away, his jaw tight and his eyes full of hurt and frustration. But he wouldn’t argue. Evan was a protector.

  He wasn’t a fighter.

  “You need to go now. Lucifer is going to be looking for me and you don’t want to be here when he does.”

  “Very well. Just remember, Meela, if you need me, I will come.”

  “Right.” A mirthless puff of a laugh escaped her at the impossibility of it all. “A Guardian will drop everything and come running to help a demon.”

  He moved in close once more, his hands cupping her face with exquisite tenderness.

  “No. Evangelos will come running to help Philomela. I promise, Evan will always come for Meela.” His words resounded through her soul like a gong, carried on the low timbre of truth.

  It shook her. No one made promises to a demon. No one swore allegiance to Meela. No one who ever meant it.

  Something scurried through the refuse and Meela could make out the squeaks and snuffles of a lesser demon in the darkness. The minions were here and the Master was sure to follow.

  “Go,” she said, pushing him. He had to go, get away from her. She needed distance before she threw herself into his arms and begged him to take her with him, to hide her from the Master forever.

  A futile wish, but one she had no doubt Evan would try to fulfill.

  It would be safer for them both once he was gone.

  Evan let his hands drop and stepped away. He gave her a formal half bow, half nod and vanished, returning to Heaven, leaving her alone.

  She backed into the corner and leaned against the crumbling plaster wall. With a tremulous sigh, she rais
ed her fingertips to her lips. The taste of Evan and his power lingered and her body shook with unrequited need. She shouldn’t have let him kiss her.

  “It seems I have arrived but a moment too late, and yet in time to witness your downfall. You have failed me again.”

  Meela jerked away from the wall with a gasp.

  “M-master?” Satan was here, somewhere in the darkness. She searched the blackness, straining to catch any small movement, frantic for any sign of where Lucifer might be hiding.

  “Twice. The angel Evangelos has been within your grasp twice, and yet you did not bring him to me.” His voice echoed from the void, but she couldn’t tell how far away Lucifer was.

  She inched along the wall, toward the corner and, she hoped, away from the ruler of Hell.

  “Explain yourself!” Lucifer’s roar shook the walls. A shower of plaster dust filtered down from the ceiling, making her nose itch and her eyes burn. His temper exploded in a flash of fire big enough, bright enough to illuminate the entire theater.

  The fireball engulfed her, singeing her hair and skin. Dropping to her knee, Meela threw her arms over her face.

  “I have a plan!” she screamed.

  The ferocity of the fire dimmed.

  “A plan?” The Master sounded intrigued. He stepped from the darkness, so close he could easily grab her. She shuddered and scrambled for some idea that might appease him.

  “Yes, a plan.” A plan. A plan. She needed a fucking plan, fast.

  “Explain, demoness.”

  “I’m, uh, luring him in.” She slowly lowered her arms and rose to her feet. Keeping a wary eye on Lucifer, she eased away from the Devil, not stopping until her back hit the corner.

  “To what end? He looked to be well-lured and a ready feast to me.”

  Think, think, think.

  “To…season the capture.” Yes, that was it. “How much better will his capture be when filled with the bitterness of betrayal?”

  “Ah!” the Master crooned and banked his fire. “I like this.”

  He grinned, baring his long canines. The grin turned to a snarl and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You promise me a betrayal, hellbitch?”

  Oh no, what had she done? No, she couldn’t, not to Evan.

  Satan leaned close, so close she could smell the sulfur on his breath. Bile rose in her throat and her heart pounded so hard it felt like it would explode.

  “Yes,” she said, anxious to pacify him and escape. It wasn’t a pledge. Not really. Just an agreement. An unenforceable agreement.

  “I do not trust you. Say it.”

  “There will be a betrayal,” she hedged.

  Lucifer moved to stand before her. Raising a hand to her throat, he forced her chin upward. The fires grew once more. “I would have your oath.” She trembled. What could she do? She had trapped herself in a corner, in both word and actions.

  The hand at her throat tightened.

  Her throat knotted tight, strangling her as surely as his hand, but she forced herself to speak.

  “I pledge to betray the angel.”

  The oath formed on her tongue, squirming to break free. It grew, swelling until it filled her mouth, writhed in her throat.

  Meela gagged. Heaves racked her and the oath was loosed. It crawled free, skittering over her face, through her hair, to settle at the base of her skull. There it pierced her, its tines sinking into her like nails, hammering its way into her brain.

  Lucifer cocked his head to one side. He put one finger in front of her, his talon a mere hairsbreadth from her nose. That finger twitched and her body jerked violently, tugged by his will as if she were no more than a marionette.

  Pledge made, oath sworn. She would have no choice but to fulfill it.

  Evan, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. She only hoped he was smart enough not to trust a demon.

  Lucifer smiled, his yellowed fangs gleaming in the gloom, satisfied the oath had taken. His grip on her throat lessened and he pulled back.

  “With that, I can afford to wait. But you will not hoard the power. I am your prince and I won’t let even my favorite whore withhold such a treasure.”

  In a blink, his taloned hand swept out, raking fire across her face. She choked back a scream and he snatched her from the corner. Her feet dangled as he lifted her to lick at the streaks of power-laced blood welling in the wounds.

  “Do not ever forget who is your Master, Meela,” Lucifer rasped. The rough whisper so close to her ear sent a thick wave of bile up her throat. “This angel may be a diverting toy, but you belong to me. Everything in you, everything you touch, belongs to me. Your soul is mine.”

  With a sudden, vicious snarl, he bit into her shoulder and she cried out in pain. His massive canines ripped through muscle and cracked bone as he tore her flesh open. She hung helpless in his grasp, sobbing in agony. But she didn’t cry for mercy, didn’t even try to stop him. She knew better. To beg or fight would only increase the fervor of the attack.

  Lucifer had no mercy left in him.

  Meela pressed her lips together, fighting to be silent. He’d taken too much from her already. This was the only thing left for her to control and nothing in damnation would convince her to let the screams echoing in her head loose.

  His saliva burned her ravaged flesh like acid, sizzling as it mixed with her blood. He snarled and growled, gnawing at her, devouring the sweet power Evan had given her.

  Weakness spread. He was taking it all. Every last bit of it.

  She lost her ability to maintain the illusion of humanity. Clothing vanished and scales erupted over her skin. Her tongue writhed as it forked in her mouth. Somewhere in her head, a dull buzz began, a ringing in her ears that grew louder and louder until the high-pitched whine drowned out everything but the animalistic slurps and snarls of Lucifer feeding. The shadows of the theater began to blend together and darkness overwhelmed her.

  She barely noticed when he dropped her. One moment her feet dangled in the air and the next she was staring at his.

  “His power is almost as delectable as your fear.” Lucifer laughed, a rolling rumble that made her stomach lurch. The same laugh she’d heard every time his body pinned her to the floor in Hell.

  She closed her eyes as tightly as she could and banished the thought. Don’t remember. Don’t give him that.

  Then, in the blink of an eye, Lucifer was gone.

  But his spies weren’t. In the darkness, she could see two sets of glowing red eyes. Two imps continued to watch her for the Master. With any luck, they would keep their distance. Weak as she was, it wouldn’t take more than these to drain her completely.

  And send her straight back to Hell where Lucifer waited.

  She took a deep breath and forced away that thought.

  Instead, she closed her eyes and pictured Evan, remembered how his kiss warmed her. The oath stirred in complaint, but she ignored it. Instead she thought of Evan’s gift, the power he’d given so freely. The remnant of that power stirred inside her and its heat flowed toward her shredded shoulder.

  A piece of him, left to guard her.

  It spread over the wound like a soothing balm, healing her body and comforting her heart.

  Chapter Four

  “You have done it again.” Raphael’s indictment hit him as soon as he transported himself to Heaven.

  Evan flinched, considering a return trip to Earth before his feet had a chance to settle on firm ground. The three archangels met him, a clear sign that Evan was treading on dangerous ground. His stomach lurched and for a moment, he simply stared at them, uncertain what to do. He’d never been chastised before.

  In that moment he would have dearly loved to feign ignorance but the inherent honesty of Heaven pricked at him.

  He straightened his spine and held his wings stiff against himself. “I have,” he admitted. “She needed sustenance. Better to provide it than to leave her dependent on hunting Creation.”

  The three seraphim exchanged a look that had Evan itching to escap
e. Silence and the burden of his own guilt weighed on him.

  Merciful Heavens, say something, anything. What would they do to him this time? Formal recall was likely, but feeding her hadn’t been forbidden. He hadn’t earned a punishment. At least he didn’t believe he had. Skirting the edge of the Law was new territory for him and truth be told, he had no idea what to expect.

  He reached back and began to stroke one of his flight feathers, hoping the gentle tug of preening would calm him.

  Finally, Gabriel stepped forward, his face grim. “Evan, you were asked to stay away from Philomela, warned that feeding her could have dire consequences, were you not?”

  “I was, however Raphael gave me no direct orders. I am not in violation of any Law.”

  Gabriel huffed in annoyance. “The order was implied.”

  “Implied but not directly given. You, of all angels, should see the technicalities have been met.” He was relying on very fragile loopholes, but they were all he had.

  Gabriel fluttered his wings. “You risk much on a technicality.”

  “What of the safety of the humans?” Raphael asked. “You must recognize that demons are a threat to Creation. It’s your duty to guard it, protect the people. How do you justify empowering a demon and setting her loose on Earth?”

  The accusation stung. He’d always done everything in his power to protect humans. Always. Their safety was his top priority.

  “She has no desire to hunt or harm.”

  “Philomela has proved herself very capable of harm over the eons. She has relished chaos and pain. Just months ago she tried to lure Renatus and joined in his torment.”

  “And yet when she left me, flush with power, she did nothing. Do we not believe in forgiveness? Her past is behind her and now she seeks only peace.” He was more confident of it now than ever. She’d had ample opportunity to do him harm, to take his power and use it against him and Creation.

  “How can you be certain of this?” Michael shook his head. “I cannot see it. Only a short while ago, she unleashed a slew of her underlings upon the Earthly Plane. This is not the action of one searching for peace.”

  Evan took a steadying breath and addressed the three. “I know Meela. We may not have been close, but I knew her well. Since her fall, I’ve met her many times, enough that I can see her habits, judge her moods. She has been increasingly reluctant to feed on the lifeforce of humans. That reluctance peaked this week. I’ve felt her sorrow and I firmly believe that the deepest desire of Meela’s heart is to return home, to Heaven. I want to help her.”