Embracing Eternity Page 9

  “And if he does, I’ll protect you.”

  She tried to blink back the sudden sting of tears.

  “You don’t understand. He won’t come for me. He’ll come for you.”

  Evan paused, looking down at Meela in confusion.

  “Why would he come for me? I am not his. What are you not telling me?” Evan curled one finger under her chin and tipped her face up to meet his.

  She gave a sudden and violent jerk, her hands knotting in the fabric of his robes.

  Her face twisted in a grimace of pain and her eyes clouded with guilt. She seemed to try to speak, opening her mouth, only to snap it shut again without a sound.

  “Meela, are you all right?” She squirmed against him and he released her. Rolling away, she sat in the snow, just out of his reach.

  He wrinkled his brow as a sense of unease wound through him. Foreboding filled the air.

  “Talk to me, Philomela. What’s happening?”

  “He wants an angel.” The words rushed from her, tight and strained.

  Understanding hit and he sat up in alarm. Two angels had recently been in Lucifer’s grasp, both lured by Meela. Both had escaped him.

  Evan was next.

  “He wants to replace what he lost.”

  She nodded, her body shaking and her expression pained.

  “And you are what, the bait sent to trap me?” No, he couldn’t believe it. What they had shared was no subterfuge. He’d seen what was in Meela’s heart, had felt it.

  Her eyes closed and her bottom lip trembled, damning her.

  “I don’t want him to hurt you.” The words rang with truth and sincerity, and carried an honesty he’d never before heard from a demon. She loved him. Even now, knowing he’d been misled, he didn’t doubt her love for him, nor his for her.

  He scooted over and pulled her into his arms once more. Nestling her into his chest, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Then he won’t,” he reassured her. Ten thousand years had taught him more than a few tricks for avoiding Satan. Together, they would be safe.

  “But—”

  “Shh. I’m watching for him. He won’t get anywhere near us. I promise.”

  “You’re foolish to trust me.” Those words conveyed realms of hurt and self-loathing.

  “Perhaps.” She could be very right about that. It was never wise to put one’s faith in a demon.

  But he couldn’t help feel that something inside her had changed. He’d watched her for so long, since the Most High had breathed Creation into being and angels could once more see their Fallen brethren. The glee she once took in feeding from mankind was gone. Her vibrant personality had faded into a withered shell.

  She was broken.

  She wanted to come home.

  Evan placed a featherlight kiss to her forehead. “But I believe in you.”

  She gave a tiny shudder, so faint that he felt it in his soul rather than his arms. The poor little lost cherub. How long had it been since someone had believed in her, since she’d felt worthy of trust?

  She pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes. “You truly want me? Even though I’m…” She bit her lip and studied his collarbone.

  “Even though you’re what?”

  “Ugly.”

  “I still see the beautiful cherub I once knew. You aren’t ugly. You are the most beautiful creature in all the Realms.”

  She shook her head violently. “No, you see an illusion. You don’t see me. You see the skin I wear. Underneath it, I’m ugly. Contaminated. You shouldn’t even be around me.”

  “You have that backward. I don’t see the demon skin. I see within you, to your heart. I see your kindness. You never wanted to hurt the feelings of any angel. You’re generous. You always were the first to give, to sacrifice for another’s happiness. When other cherubs teased my quiet nature, you would tell me quiet males were interesting mysteries. That is the cherub I loved and that is who I see before me.”

  Her chin tipped back up at that. Hope and fear mingled in her eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to banish the fear. He dipped his head and brushed her soft lips with his. “Come with me, Meela. Let me take you home.”

  He kissed her again, and her body relaxed ever so slightly, relenting but not submitting. He held her to him, tracing her soft contours, cherishing each curve.

  She watched him, her eyes full of sadness. Longing and fear mingled in her expression and he could sense the tug-of-war raging inside her. His poor, battered angel. She’d learn to trust again. He’d make sure of it.

  “Say it, Meela. Say yes and I’ll take you away from here, away from him. He’ll never hurt you gain.” He laced the words with every iota of sincerity and truth within him, let them ring like the purest of chimes.

  Her eyes filled with tears and the wall she’d tried so hard to keep between them crumbled into nothingness.

  “I want to,” she said with a sniffle, her body going lax against his.

  Thank the Heavens.

  He captured her mouth with his, sending her a swirl of power. Just enough to leave her a little dizzy.

  The taste of her left him dizzy too. Her power was smoky, but underlying it was the crispness of new-fallen snow, the almost-hidden echo of what she once had been. Her power had fascinated him. It could rage like a mountain blizzard or fall as delicately as a single snowflake.

  Snow.

  Evan lifted his lips from hers. His harsh breath wreathing her face in a wintry fog.

  That was it. That was what was wrong. Snow.

  His illusionary bubble was gone. He’d dropped it. Their shield, their protection had vanished and he hadn’t even noticed.

  Chapter Eight

  “She’s a good little fuck, isn’t she, Evangelos?” The voice chilled Evan more than the weather ever could.

  Lucifer had come.

  He stood in the center of their clearing, his blackened body stark against the snowy backdrop. The aura of dread surrounded him like a fog, tainting Evan’s thoughts with despair.

  No. Those feelings weren’t real. They weren’t his. Evan ground his teeth and forced them away. The thought of his precious Meela in that monster’s arms, being touched by him.

  “I’m sorry, Evan. So sorry,” she whispered. Her eyes were full of pain and regret, and her lip trembled. But in the space of one stuttered heartbeat, her body jerked violently and her expression was panicked. Then it vanished, replaced by the cold expression of indifference she’d worn for so long.

  Then she struck.

  Before he realized what was happening, he was flat on his back. Coils of power, the power he’d given her so freely, wrapped around him, pinning him in place before he could defend himself. Just like that, he was immobilized, bound tight and mute.

  Confusion swamped him. This couldn’t be. Meela wouldn’t hurt him. She loved him. She said she was coming home with him.

  But she had. She had given him over to Lucifer. Evan’s heart froze and the icy pain of betrayal crept through him, until every feather screamed in agony. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be happening.

  He lay stunned and helpless, sold out with his own power.

  It seemed Raphael had been right after all. It had been foolish to trust a demon.

  A mirthless laugh escaped him. He’d been so sure he could outwit Lucifer in battle, but with Meela, there was no battle.

  He’d given himself to her, heart and soul.

  The crunch of snow and slithering of unease alerted him to Lucifer’s approach.

  “You’ve done well, my pet.” Lucifer was naked, despite the cold. As he walked over to where Meela knelt in the snow, he left melted and steaming footprints in his wake. As an angel, he’d been tall, but now he was taller still. His frame was wrapped with muscle, finely formed and yet grotesque.

  Cupping one gnarled and blackened hand behind Meela’s head, he pulled her toward him. His fingers fisted in her soft hair and he rubbed his cock against her face.

  She
didn’t fight him, as Evan expected, as he wanted her to, and something within him broke with a sharp crack. His stomach churned at the sight of his Philomela fawning over Satan.

  He watched helplessly, searching for some sign of revulsion from Meela. Something, anything, to let him know she wasn’t doing this of her own free will.

  Instead she tipped her head at her Master’s command and placed kisses over his scrotum.

  They had been right all along, the archangels, Renatus and every other angel who had urged him to forget about the sweet cherub he’d once known. She really was gone, as dead as an infinite being could be. She’d chosen her path to Hell, and even when he’d offered her hope for a way out, she’d chosen to stay.

  Meela had picked damnation over him.

  “I must admit,” Lucifer said as he held Meela’s head, cradling her to his cock, “that little bubble of yours was clever. What an ingenious way to hide. If it hadn’t dissolved in front of me, I never would have known you were here. It’s fortunate one of my spawn made it back to bring me here or I might have lost you completely.”

  A misshapen little demon appeared near Evan’s feet in a puff of sickly green smoke. The stench of sulfur hit him and he gagged. He was unable to fight the retching or to turn his head and let it out. Vomit choked him, burning its way into his throat and lungs.

  “Ah, there you are, spawn. There is the angel. Take care of him for me.”

  Lucifer’s little minion grabbed Evan’s ankle, sinking its talons into his flesh, and began to drag him to the middle of the clearing. The soft bed he’d created was gone, and the rocks and frozen ground tore at Evan’s back. Power-rich blood flowed from the wounds, weakening him further as it soaked the cold earth beneath him.

  “No, don’t move him. Right there will be fine,” Lucifer said, and the demon stopped. “Just stake him out and we’ll have our feast now, right here where our little Meela glutted on his power.”

  Lucifer grinned at Evan then, his pointed teeth and animalistic canines gleamed yellow in the stark light of winter.

  “Did you enjoy her, Evan? She’s always been one of my favorites. I like to ream her until she bleeds. Something about the smell of her blood mixed with my come makes me want to fuck her forever.”

  Each word hit Evan like a sledgehammer to his chest. The thought of this gnarled beast touching his Meela was unconscionable, repulsive. And yet she clung to Lucifer’s leg as if he were her savior.

  Evan couldn’t bear it. He had to get away from this, from her.

  He struggled against the power that held him. Meela’s power. But he couldn’t move so much as a fingertip.

  The apish little demon began to dance around him with glee. A pointed wooden stake appeared in its hand and it began to advance on Evan.

  He had to escape the repulsive little creature. Heaven help him, he had to get away. Channeling what was left of his strength, he tried to break the bonds holding him, but they only tightened with his struggles.

  He needed help.

  Evan sent a silent cry Heavenward, only to watch in dismay as it crumbled and fell back to Earth like a wounded bird.

  “None of that, now,” Lucifer chastised. “You are in my little bubble now. Heaven is beyond your reach and there will be no angels coming to your rescue.”

  The demon stretched Evan’s arm above his head and placed the tip of the stake in the center of his palm.

  Dear Merciful Heavens, no.

  No!

  He couldn’t stop it. With a ghoulish giggle, the creature jammed his weight against the stake. It ripped through Evan’s hand with the crackle of shattered bone and a gush of hot blood.

  Pain shot through him and loosed his voice in a scream of agony.

  The little beast snagged his other hand. Another stake pressed that palm and Evan sent another flurry of pleas to the Heavens, begging someone, anyone to come to his aid, only to watch as they too fell to the ground.

  He heard the second stake go in before he felt it. There was a crunch, almost like gravel underfoot, and the soft slurp of blood filling the wound. Then the pain hit in another sickening wave.

  The little demon moved to his feet and was joined by two others. He tried to kick, but Meela’s power still bound him.

  He managed to turn his head enough to see her, wanting to ask her why. Needing to know. But she still knelt before the Prince of Hell, nuzzling his genitals in adoration.

  Another wave of bile rose in Evan’s throat, strangling him. He gasped for air and the bile hit his lungs in a blaze of choking acid. He coughed, writhing and fighting for air. The struggle pulled at his hands, tearing the flesh and sending ripping agony through him.

  She’d sold him out. He hadn’t believed she’d do it, not even when she’d warned him. Even as the threat had crossed her lips, he’d believed that when the moment came, her love for him would overcome her demonic nature.

  He was a fool. A stupid, gullible, lovesick fool.

  As the little demons tugged his feet out and set the spikes to his heels, all he could think was, Why, Meela? Why?

  Meela pressed her forehead against Lucifer’s groin and struggled to catch her breath. Inside her head, she could feel the oath coming loose, letting her go and skittering away like an insect.

  Even so, she didn’t dare look at Evan. She couldn’t be caught looking, caring. If her Master even suspected she felt the slightest compassion…

  The consequences terrified her.

  She had to keep him distracted, keep him pacified. All she needed was a little time to figure this out and fix the mess she’d made.

  Another scream shattered the brittle winter air and Meela’s stomach lurched. Shame made her tremble.

  Merciful Heavens, what had she done?

  Evan loved her, truly loved her. Or he had, until she’d turned on him. He’d never forgive her. The one being in all the Heavens or Earth who loved her and she’d betrayed him, killing that love.

  The last of Lucifer’s control left her and she dropped the power that held Evan in place. Too late, though. The ghouls had already staked him in place for the Master’s feast.

  She had to fix this, to save him and get him away from this place. Away from the Master.

  But how?

  She needed to get to him, to free him.

  Mentally cringing, she placed one last kiss against Lucifer’s skin and backed away. She’d barely edged toward Evan when the Master’s clawed hand dug into her shoulder, the claws sinking deep into her skin.

  “And just where do you think you’re going, my little hellbitch?”

  “T-to help prepare the feast, Master.” She took a deep breath, trying to force the fear away.

  “A feast? Is that what you see?”

  “Yes, Master. A feast of angel fit for the Prince of Hell.”

  “Then you see something I do not. What I see is an empty vessel.”

  Lucifer jerked her off her feet. She was hanging from the claws piercing her shoulder, her feet dangling several feet from the ground.

  “Where is my feast, Meela?”

  “He is there—”

  Lucifer’s other hand shot out, his claws ripping across her face in a stinging swipe.

  “Empty!” he raged. “My feast isn’t there, my little bitch. It is here.” That pointed finger pressed against her sternum, the talon sinking into flesh until it hit bone.

  “No.” She tried to deny it, but it was no use. She was full of angelic power.

  Power the Master had claimed for himself.

  Lucifer let go of her shoulder. The claw in her chest caught, tearing her open to the collarbone as she fell to the frozen ground in a heap. He ripped into her flesh, tearing her until her skin hung open, revealing ripped muscle and gouged bone.

  She pushed up on shaky arms and blinked at the now-red snow under her. Her head swam with the pain and her stomach began to quiver, first a small flutter, then harder as Lucifer began to circle her.

  This was how it always began, the Master c
ircling his prey. She’d been here far too many times not to know what came next.

  He’d start with his fists, using the strength on his massive body to batter her. Bones would crack, organs rupture, and still he’d beat her. Then he would move on to his claws, using them to peel the flesh from her bones. Then he’d pull her to her knees, set his cock to her ass and…

  A sob escaped her. For a creature such as she, there was no promise of mercy in death.

  Nor would there be for Evan.

  Please, please stop Lucifer. I’ll do anything, pay any price. Just save Evan.

  Lucifer hesitated, the steady pace of his footsteps breaking rhythm.

  “What was that? Were you praying?” He began to laugh. It was a small chuckle at first, but in moments he was roaring. “Did you hear that, spawn? The demoness was praying.”

  The little demons began to giggle with glee, too stupid to understand what he was saying but delighting in his amusement anyway.

  Taloned fingers wound through her hair, forcing her head up until she was looking directly into the face of damnation himself.

  “Listen and listen well, demoness. If you pray, your prayers are to me. I am your Lord. I am your Master. The Most High has forsaken you. You are at my mercy, and my forgiveness is fleeting.”

  She barely had time to register the movement of his leg before his knee smashed into her face. Bone crunched and the tang of blood filled her mouth. Lifting her by her hair, Lucifer attacked again, this time ripping her throat open with his fanglike canines. She could feel her blood foaming with every breath she took through her ruptured windpipe. He was feeding from her, taking the power that filled her.

  Given in love, stolen in hate.

  As he drained her, Meela’s strength waned. If she lost too much, she wouldn’t be able to hold form, and she’d be no use to Evan as a puddle of bile. She had to do something, conserve what she could before the Master took it all.

  She dropped her illusion. Ripples teased over her skin as scales replaced skin and beauty was lost to the vileness of her demon form.

  Then, she released a soul-scream of pain and let go of her solid form.

  She melted into the snow and held as still as possible against the frozen earth. She was no longer recognizable, her form nothing more than so many oily puddles in the snow. Lucifer raised a foot and stomped, splattering one puddle of her. Still, she didn’t solidify, didn’t even try to bring her pieces back together.