Chapter Eighteen
It’s bright and it smells like vanilla and wildflowers. I hear a babbling brook—it really sounds like babbling—and feel the coolness of the wind that floats over the water. The grass is lush and the sky is so bright and clear it looks white. The flowering trees are beautiful, colorful. I’ve only seen scenes like this in paintings. Paintings where women lie in the grass in white dresses and white hats with pink or blue bows; where children in knickerbockers run through fields as their kites fly behind them.
I feel loved and warm. Safe and free of cares. The wind blows my hair, and when I lift my hand to move it from my eyes I see that my hand is luminescent. A gray flowing gown billows around me, and my silver wings are strong and beautiful. I let them flutter behind me and watch as the feathers make room for themselves. I stretch them out to their full capacity and see them high above my head. Lifting my arms out to the sides, I see that my wings span at least ten inches from my fingers. I flap them as if meaning to fly and feel the freeness of this place.
“Watch where you put those ghastly things.”
“Holy shit. Damn-it! You’re making me curse in Heaven.” I look over at Samael and slap him with one of my wings. “How did you bring me here?”
Stumbling backward, shocked by the strength of my wing, he rights himself and comes to stand in his original place. “I didn’t. I met you here. Didn’t think I’d see you scrapping around. Ohh!” he says, jumping up and down, his white wings fluttering behind him. “I’ve always wanted to say this.” He clears his throat and turns to fully face me, trying desperately to hide a grin. “Fancy meeting you here, Perry-girl.”
“My God, you are insane. Why am I here?” I start to walk away from him, but think better of it. Not smart to turn my back on the angel that wants to kill me.
In his confusion I study him in his beauty. His lavender eyes are wide and his beautiful white wings are spotted with gold flecks. His pale blue gown flows around him, and his porcelain skin glows. And he looks taller.
“I’ve been waiting around for your angel pals. We’ve got some business to take care of, and I know they are missing home. I guess that’s why you’re here.” He slides closer to me and bumps me with his shoulder. “Admit it. You love and adore this place just as much as you despise it. It makes you realize all the things you settle for on Earth. You want me to take you. I would be giving you peace if you came willingly. That’s the only reason I haven’t gone on a murdering rampage. You will come to me. Willingly.”
My wings shudder as I give him a sideways glance. It’s true. Everything he’s said about me is true. I want to give in and give up. Come home to Heaven and be happy. Be free. A very minute part of me wants to, but that part of me is so small it doesn’t matter. My family and friends mean more to me than what I want. Heaven will come.
“Your silence speaks volumes, Perry-girl.”
“How did I get here?” Great way to change the subject. Yes, it’s lame. But it’s all I’ve got right now.
The sound of laughter pulls me from my denial. I turn around and see a group of people standing at a bridge. There are at least ten of them. Their clothes are colorful and the joy of being here in this place is written all over their faces, in their posture. They haven’t noticed us yet.
“And who are they?” I ask, taking a few steps toward them. I feel drawn to them. A pull in my chest pushes me forward. I look back at Samael, waiting for an answer.
He touches one of my wings and then wipes his hand on his gown. “Freshly dead. Souls who are about to be ushered unto the light. And to answer your first question, you got here the way you did the first time. You shifted here. All angels can. I’m amazed you’re capable, being half demon and all.”
Though I am completely offended by his repulsion to me I smile at the people on the bridge. A woman with deep olive skin and bright brown eyes walks toward us. She waves and then gets the attention of the others who are with her, grabbing one other person by the hand. With her leading, the whole group trails behind her.
Unable to stop myself, I follow the pull inside me and walk toward her and reach out my arms, welcoming her into a sincere embrace. “Hello,” I say, gesturing for all of them to come closer. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?”
I feel compelled to welcome them, to let them know that everything is okay and that all will be made clear to them.
The woman in front of everyone else wraps her arms around me and holds on tight. Sobbing, she kisses my cheek over and over. Her words are garbled by her tears and her entire body is shaking as if she were freezing.
I rub my hands over her back and through her hair. “Shh, why are you crying? This is not a place for tears, Cynthia.” How did I know her name?
Samael leans in and whispers, “After a millennia of tears and sobbing, it gets real old.” He raises his voice and feigns a smile. “The Gate is over there, everyone. Go to it and don’t look back.”
Looking at him like he’s even more insane than I thought, I slap him with my wing as hard as I can. He flails backward a few feet and grimaces, barely catching himself before he falls.
“Cynthia,” I say, pulling her head up, “it’s time to go home. All of you.” I wipe away her tears and kiss her cheek. “You should be laughing. Not crying.”
She sniffs and wipes snot off her upper lip. “This isn’t Heaven? It’s so wonderful.”
I smile. “It is wonderful, isn’t it? But no, this isn’t Heaven. It’s the entry way. You were sent here first to prepare. Heaven is a wondrous place, a lot to take in. Coming here, which reminds you of all the beauty the Earthly plane has to offer, helps you get ready. And you are ready, aren’t you? Because you should be.”
Cynthia finally calms down and smiles so brilliantly. “Thank you. Thank you so much for…”
I shrug. “Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything. But let’s get you all home, okay?”
Everyone agrees in some way; some shaking their heads, some saying, “Yes” or “Please.”
An older woman looks at Samael, who is looking off toward the sky, no longer paying attention to us. She looks back to me and reaches out her hand. “Thank you for meeting us here.” She looks back at him, a hint of fear playing in her eyes. She’s smart.
I grab her hand and pull her attention back to me. “You’re welcome. Let’s get going.”
Gathering everyone, we begin to walk toward a Gate that no words can describe. It’s made of light and love. Pearl and gold and silver.
Soundless, the Gates open and everyone begins to walk in. When I stop walking, Rosamond, the older woman, tries to pull me along.
I let go of her hand. “No, Rosa, this is as far as I go. I still have things to take care of.”
She nods, pulls my hand to her mouth, and kisses it. “Thank you,” she says, and then disappears into the light beyond the Gate.
I stand there and look, trying to catch a glimpse.
“Go on, Perry-girl, take a look. You’ll never want out again. Your family would be a distant memory.”
Damn him for being right. “No, Samael.” I take a deep breath and turn around to look at him. “I’m not leaving. It’s time for you to move on.” He is supposed to be the fucking Angel of Death but he treated those people as if their mere existence annoyed him. Inconvenienced him. “You have a choice to make. Retire to the fifth Heaven and be at peace. Or die by my hand and be stuck in Purgatory until God pulls you out at the end of this age. Those are your choices. There is nothing else. You’ve lost what it takes to be the Angel of Death.” I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair. “This requires love, compassion. You have vengeance and hatred in your heart. And I can see it, because I see the truth. God makes no mistakes. And He ordains that I take your place. Make your choice. Or I’ll help you move on.”
I sit straight up in bed next to Haines and instantly reach for my back. I try to feel my wings. Why did I think for a moment they’d still be here?
“Perrian?” Haines says. Sitting up, he reaches and grabs a glass of water sitting on the bedside table. “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”
For a moment I think of telling him that I’ll be fine and to go back to sleep. Maybe tell him that I had a bad dream and that I’m going downstairs for something to eat. Why would I lie to him about it? Maybe because I don’t want him to know that I longed for Heaven so badly that I shifted there in my sleep. That I’d been doing it off and on but didn’t tell him because I didn’t want him to feel threatened. Didn’t want him to think that for a few seconds every day I want nothing more than to go to Heaven. But I don’t. I don’t tell him the whole truth, but I tell him what went down between Samael and me. I tell him how those people needed to be told where to go, and if I hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would have happened. They probably would have found the Gates anyway, but they needed a friend to let them know that it was all right to go in.
“He’s got three days, dearest husband. Three days to choose, and then I’m going to make the choice for him.
****
“Mmm, corned beef hash and caffeine.” I lean forward and smell the cup of coffee my mother just set before me, blocking out the aroma of bacon and scrambled eggs with cheese wafting through the kitchen. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, Mom, but I’m for it.” I reach over and grab the creamer and pour gobs of it into my cup. “So, Mommy, what’s up? Why the big breakfast?”
She comes over and dumps more hash on to my plate and then sprinkles scrambled eggs over it. “Rita and I are leaving today.” She puts four slices of bacon next to the mountain of goodness. “I know it makes you uncomfortable to have me leave, but I can’t stay here. Neither can your aunt. Whatever happens is going to happen whether she and I are here with you two, or not.”
Point taken.
“If Haines and I making googly eyes at each other makes you uncomfortable, we’ll stop.”
She butters a slice of toast and puts it on a napkin next to my plate. “I can deal with the eyes. It’s the other bits I can’t deal with.”
“Then we’ll stop!” I take a sip of coffee and add more creamer. “No sex, no kissing, no thinking of sex. Haines and I will be innocent as lambs.”
“I’m sorry?” Haines says, walking into the kitchen. He grabs a mug and pours himself some coffee. “I’ll make no such promises, Perrian.”
“Haines, shut it. My mommy is leaving!”
He makes himself a plate and sits down next to me. Ignoring me like I don’t even exist, he begins to eat his food, keeping the eggs and the hash separate. Blasphemous. Eggs and hash belong together!
We eat in silence for a few moments, my mother adding coffee to my cup or eggs to my plate as my supplies get low. I need her here. Her and my aunt. I need to be able to see the people I care for, with my own eyeballs. No phone calls. No texts or emails. Eyeball to eyeball contact. Don’t they understand the shit is about to hit the fan, and I don’t even know how to start the fucker up to get the ball rolling? How to get the shit flying?
Aunt Rita comes in and sits down next to me. “How are you taking it, dear?”
I frown and shove a whole piece of bacon in my mouth. “Doth it mather?” I say through a mouth full of food.
She smiles sweetly and wipes crumbs from my chin. “Not really. You are an adult.”
“Am not.”
“One of the most powerful beings anywhere. And now you have the weapon you need to defend yourself. And your family. We don’t need to be here.”
Shrugging, I take a sip of my mom’s orange juice. “I still don’t know how to get close to him to end this. I need counsel. You three are my council. Counsel me, darn-it!”
Haines chuckles and shakes his head. “You are acting like a child, Perrian.”
“Dude, let’s not take our relationship back to the point where I tell you to shut your face every time you open it.”
He bites his lower lip and then runs his tongue along the inside of his jaw. I love his mouth. His teeth. His lips. His tongue. And all the deliciously hot feelings that come with them.
My mother slams more toast on to my napkin. “This. This is what I mean. You insulted him, he got pissed, and then you both got the hots for one another. I’m leaving.”
I look at Haines and wink.
Yeah, I guess it is time for them to go. Knowing my mom knows when I get the lusts for my husband is kind of gross. But I can’t control it. My husband is hot.
Covering my face with my hands I begin to chant, “I am an adult. I don’t need my mommy here to take care of me. I am an adult. I don’t need my mommy here to take care of me.”
“That’s right, dear,” Aunt Rita says, rubbing my back. “Yes, you are.”
“I don’t need my mommy here to take care of me. I’m a powerful, bad ass, demon-angel type person. I’m the Angel of Death.” That does not sound good. “I am the Angel of Death, and I’m going to throw up.”
“Yes, dear,” Auntie says, still rubbing. “Yes you—what?”
I jump up and run for the kitchen trash can, knocking over my chair and giving my aunt a run for her money as I try not to knock her down in the process.
My stomach begins to give up the ghost. Dizzying waves of nausea crash over me and the room starts to spin. My mother comes over and holds my hair out of my face as I empty everything I just ate, and probably last night’s snack, into the trash can. A churning in my stomach makes me heave. There’s nothing left for me to throw up. It’s getting hot. “Something is wrong,” I say, heaving until nothing but empty noises pour from my mouth. “What is that sound?”
A hand appears in front of my face. It’s Haines, wiping the remnants of dinner and breakfast from my lips. “Your ears are probably ringing. I’ll get you some ginger ale to settle your stomach.”
A loud scratching echoes in my head and I grab my ears to block the sound. It sounds like a fork rattling around in a garbage disposal had a kid with another fork that enjoys being dragged down chalkboards. “God, what is that?” I look up at my council—their new name!—and see them looking at me in confusion, not knowing whether to help me drown out the noise, touch me, or stay away from me.
My mother is the first to come to my side. Her lips move but I can’t hear her voice. She signals to Aunt Rita who comes over and grabs my face, forcing me to look at her.
It’s a summoning spell! she mouths. A very strong one.
Alternating between holding on to the wall and covering my ears, I try to block the noise and think of what day it is. “Has it been a week? It’s been a week!” I scream at them. “That bastard is calling me to him!” He said I’d know when my time was up. I strip off my sweatshirt and am left in my tank top tee-shirt and pajama bottoms. Battle gear? I am so going to hand Samael his ass back to him on a golden platter. Once I figure out how to. “How do I make it stop?”
Aunt Rita starts pointing at the door and then back to her lips. Follow it. She grabs my face again. Kill. Him. Don’t flinch, just strike!
I nod my head, still trying to hinder the sound by covering my ears, but it’s coming from inside of my head.
Haines grabs me as I start walking to the front door. He gently holds my chin and kisses me, and for a brief moment the horrible sound stops. “Come back to me.”
“You bet your sexy ass I will!” I look around at my mother and aunt. “I probably don’t need to scream at you guys, do I?” Trying to lighten the mood while the sound of ten thousand lawnmowers ride over a million chainsaws as an archaic, insane angel calls you to your death is not easy.
My mother and aunt shake their heads, trying to look at ease, but I can see the fear in their eyes. Making my way to the front door and opening it, fighting through the screeching sound, I look back at them once more. My mother holds on to Aunt Rita just as she held me the night Samael killed my father—her eyes glisten as she fights to hold back the tears. Her nails dig into Aunt Rita’s hand, but neither seem to notice. They are terrified. I don’t blame them. This is supposed to be a showdown of epic proportions and… “It stopped,” I whisper. “I don’t hear it. It’s gone.”
“And here you are, Perry-girl.”
I look up and see something I never thought I’d see. Something I inwardly prayed I’d never see. A chill descends over my insides and all the snarky comebacks I’d stored just for this moment have dried up.
On our lawn a small unconscious, God please let him be unconscious, form lies at the feet of Samael. Still wearing his pajamas and little cartoon character slippers is Roman, laying in the grass that is still wet with morning dew.
“Imagine my surprise when this little cad came on to my radar, outside of the protective barrier and with no satchel. And you wanna know what he said? ‘Come get me, you crazy bastard. You killed my friend’s daddy, and she’s gonna get you.’ I can only imagine where he would get that from.”
Right now, there isn’t enough oxygen in the world. I close my eyes and feel tears fall down my cheeks. Roman heard me say it yesterday. This is my fault. Really, really my fault.
My words are garbled and rushed. “Please. I’ll do what you want. I give. No more fighting. Don’t hurt him.” I put my hands up and begin walking toward them.
This isn’t going to turn out well. Samael has me, and he knows it. He knows I would never risk the safety of my friends, especially a child. Walking closer to them I can see the rise and fall of Roman’s chest. Thank you, God.
Samael picks up his foot and places it on Roman’s chest. “Come closer and I will crush him.”
I stop walking and keep my hands up. “What do you want me to do? I’ll say what you want me to say, just don’t hurt him. Please.”
He taps the tip of his shoe on Roman’s chest and his entire little body jerks. “It would be easy to kill him. He wouldn’t even know it happened. He’d wake up at the Gates. Wouldn’t you rather him go in peace than to have him watch you try to hurt me?” He taps Roman again with his foot, showing me how strong he is.
Watching his little body jerk just from the sheer force of a gentle tap from Samael’s toes make me want to scream, cover my ears, and roll in to a ball and pretend that Roman’s life isn’t on the line. I don’t know what to do. The plan was for everyone to stay safe and hidden while I figured it out. But he’s going to kill Roman if I don’t…
“I give in to you. You can take my life. I give it to you. Just don’t hurt him.”
Don’t give in, Perrian.
“Really,” I say out loud, talking to the disembodied voice that apparently only I can hear. “You can’t give me a heads up before this stuff happens?” I shake my head and throw my hands up. “Sorry, sorry. That was discourteous and I shouldn’t address you that way.” Please, Lilith, help me. “I said it, Samael. Now let him go.”
Eyebrows raised, he looks around, and then back at me. “It doesn’t count if you don’t mean it. And who were you talking to?”
“An old girlfriend of yours. She says the sex was a bore, and you suck.” How the hell am I supposed to mean it if I really don’t mean it? I don’t want to die. And I can’t let Roman die. I won’t. What am I supposed to do?
“Lilith,” Samael spits out. “She’s a dead deity. She speaks to no one.” His entire demeanor changes. That normal insane look has moved on to wily and downright frightening. “She speaks to you? Who else speaks to you, you mutt?” His teeth are bared, and spittle drips down his chin. One eyelid twitches, and he takes a step toward me.
Samael knowing that Lilith speaks to me pisses him off. Does he feel more threatened because he knows it’s not just me, a half demon whose only favor could be earned in Hell? That I have just as much grace as he does? My being able to shift to the Gates of Heaven wasn’t enough. He’s starting to see, really starting to see that his time has come to an end. And that will make him desperate. Desperation makes us do terrible things.
“What the hell is…Roman? Trent, get out here!” With a pure look of terror, Ryan runs toward Samael and the still prone body of his son.
Without even looking at Ryan, Samael flicks his wrist and Ryan’s body goes sailing backward smashing into the shrubs near his door. He rolls over onto his knees and tries to get up, but falls back down.
The woman who lives next door to Ryan and Trent opens her door. All gazes fall to her to see if she notices what’s happening, but she’s talking on her cell phone and turns her back to us to lock her door.
“Getting crowded, Perry-girl. Me and small fry here will see you later. I’m going to put him somewhere safe until you get your sweet-self ready for me. Don’t make me wait.” Without taking his eyes off me he bends down to pick up Roman.
I’ve got nothing. No plan. No grand idea to save us all. But if I let Samael leave with Roman we may never see him again. I break into a run as Samael and Roman begin to shimmer out of focus. God knows where he’s taking him, but he won’t be going alone. Jumping into the air just as Trent comes through the front door, I see a look of dread on his face as I make contact with Samael’s quickly disappearing form. As I connect with him I feel like I am being sucked into a vortex; weightless and terrified as I spin out of reality with them.
After what seems like hours of spiraling in mid-air I finally feel like I’ve made physical contact with Samael. Everything still looks out of focus, but I reach out for Roman and feel his small hand latch on to mine. I pull him closer, wrap my arms around as much of him as I can, and start kicking any body part that’s not wrapped in my embrace. And in my wings?
We finally reach our destination and I slam onto the ground, still shielding Roman’s body with mine. I shake my head and take a deep breath, trying to get a grasp on where we are. The silence is deafening, and it smells like someone’s been sick. An acidic stench invades my senses, and I almost gag. Where the Hell are we?
“Roman, are you—ow! What the…?”
Roman just bit the crap out of my shoulder. I open my arms, and my wings, and see a tiny version of Trent. Small purple horns protrude from either side of his head and yellow eyes stare back at me. Taking a moment to look around I see…nothing. An empty void that goes on forever. But it won’t stay that way. Not while Samael and I are here. There will be things lurking around us in no time. They must be close. The smell here is overwhelming.
Roman scampers away from me and looks around. His face holds and array of emotions ranging from pure fear to rabid hunger. “I’m sorry, Perry. I—I don’t know why I did that.” He covers his mouth, closes his eyes, and starts to cry. “I don’t like this, Perry. I can’t see anything. W-why do you smell like…like food?”
I thought they used Ryan’s junk to have a baby. My mother told me when I was a child that the longer you feed someone, the more they start to look like you. Ryan is a great cook, and Roman looks just like him. Well, not now he doesn’t.
“It’s okay, kid. You didn’t mean to hurt me.” I turn around and look at Samael as he stands there smirking. “Keep your eyes closed, Roman. Don’t look.” I wish I didn’t have to look. This place is scary. Standing up, I switch my focus to Samael. “How could you, Samael? You’d bring him here? You were going to leave him at the Gates of Hell?”
I take a closer look and see a deep gash that runs across Samael’s chin dripping blood. His eyes look swollen and he’s breathing hard. He shrugs his right shoulder and then smiles. “It’s not like he wouldn’t fit right in. I think you…yep.” He reaches over, grabs his left shoulder, and gives it a hard tug. “You, you violent thing, dislocated my shoulder.”
I go to manifest my sword, but the small sobs of Roman brings me back. Let me see how formidable I really am. With one hand on my sword and the other reaching out to Roman, I close my eyes. “Lorem diligere.” He shimmers out of this terrible place and back home to his family. Our family. “And now you, you douche bag. Adiuro vos ad locum istum, et consilium meum. I bind you to this place, and to my will.” I pull out my sword and smile. “Time to dance, bitch.”
“Well,” he says, backing away from me. “Until next time.” He begins to shimmer out of focus, but confusion blankets his face as he realizes he can’t. After a few more tries, a sheen of sweat breaks out on his nose. “Why…”
“’Cause I’m a kick-ass ‘mutt’, you sick bastard. Did you know that this sword that was made just for me links me to the Great Hall of Records? I didn’t know that until just now. Every spell, every potion, every thing that anyone has ever known is available to me. It’s the truth of all truths. So, you’re kind of stuck here at the Gates of Hell until—”
The force of a garbage truck slams into me as I am tackled from behind by something large and filthy. Its skin is the color of a rotting avocado, black and brown with splotches of green. Rows and rows of small jagged teeth fill its mouth, and silver beady eyes stare down at me. It is tall, and its skin feels like sticky, hot rubber. I shove and push to keep it at arm’s length as it snaps its wicked mouth at me, inching closer and closer each time. Pulling my right arm back as far as I can to gain momentum in my supine position, I hit the demon in the neck and cause it to jerk its head toward my left arm.
Terrible, horrible mistake. It wraps its long, grainy, pink tongue around my wrist and I feel tiny painful bites. This bastard has teeth in its fucking tongue! I scream and punch again, over and over until its tongue unravels from around my wrist. It snarls and snaps at me, getting closer each time. Jerking my knees up as hard as I can and using my wings as leverage, I flip us over until I’m straddling the demon. Quickly, I pull out my sword and bury it in its chest.
A bright light flashes and the demon’s corpse turns to cinder. I look down and see a few teeth sticking out of my wrist. Pulling them out and trying not to throw up at the thought of that thing’s tongue on my body, I try to catch my breath. This is not what I expected when I woke up today. I was going to eat a hearty breakfast, research stuff, and do my eyebrows, but now I’m pulling teeth out of my wrist. Ew. Where the hell is Samael?
As I turn my head to look behind me Samael grabs one of my wings and pulls, almost ripping it from my back.
I scream in agony as Samael pulls my other wing, but my shouts are cut off as he wraps his long arm around my neck and cuts off all circulation. He pulls me close as he chokes the life out of me.
“Let me out of here, you repugnant half-breed, or I will leave you unconscious and unable to defend yourself against the hungering hordes of demons.”
I beat at his arms, hoping he’ll loosen his grip so I can take a breath, but it seems to piss him off even more. He’s so close I can feel every breath he takes and every beat of his hateful heart.
“They will feast on you as you scream in voiceless anguish. And know that I will kill each and every member of your family,” he growls. “Release me from this place.”
His lips are so close to my ear I can feel every syllable that pours from his mouth.
My vision is going in and out. But I can’t let him go. This is my only chance. My body begins to go slack, and even the close sound of his panting is getting farther and farther away. In a last ditch effort to save my family I choose to truly let go, just like he wanted me to. No remorse. No feelings of what I did or didn’t get to do. Just peace. I’m okay with letting go now. I grab my sword and with my last bit of fading strength, plunge it into my chest knowing it will go right through his.
Samael’s body convulses and his grip loosens. Taking huge gulps of air and pulling his arms from around my neck, I try to get away from him but we are stuck together by my sword.
But I don’t feel anything. No pain. No pressure. Just sweet gobs of sulfur smelling air.
“You’ve killed yourself, Perry-girl,” Samael says as the blood from his mouth drips onto my shoulder. He laughs. He thinks he’s won. “You love them so much that you would kill yourself.”
Umm, I don’t think so. I grab the hilt of my sword and pull. Samael’s body hits the ground as I stand up and look at my chest. Nothing. No blood. No hole. Not even one in my gown.
I turn around and look at him. “I thought I was killing myself. But it eluded me that the sword, my sword, can’t hurt me.”
He lays on the ground holding his chest, blood pouring from his wound. “You gonna leave me here and let them consume me? I’d do that to you.” His body begins shaking and more blood covers his gown. His eyes dart around, looking to see what’s coming for him.
“You don’t need to worry about them. They can’t see us. Not until I wish it so.” I walk toward him and pull my gown up a bit higher so that it won’t get tangled if Samael tries to fight back. “You have something that belongs to me. I didn’t know how I was going to get it from you, but I do now.”
I lower myself and straddle him, my hips settling over his stomach. Bending down, I place one hand behind his head and the other on his chest.
Trembling beneath me, he tries to fight but is too weak to do anything. Placing my lips right above his I inhale and use the succubus within me to feed from him. He tries to close his mouth but I grab his chin to hold it open. Inhaling deeper, a light begins to form between our lips, and I pull it into my body. It’s sweet. It tastes of death and life and love and hate. It’s the duality that Samael couldn’t embrace coming to find a home within me. Swallowing and feeling the light pulse through my body, I try to stand up but fall backward. Life fills my body and it feels almost orgasmic. Both angel and succubus within me are full to bursting.
The Rite of Death moves through me, and I can feel every reaper angel connect with my essence. All over the world, on every plane of existence, I bond with them and feel their relief that I’ve finally accepted my place among them.
We both lay there at the Gates of Hell gasping for air, only inches from one another but unable to fight. Well, he is.
I feel powerful. Chosen. The light and dark in me have finally made peace.
I sit up and look around, noticing that demons skate around the perimeter of my holding spell. They can’t get in but they sure as hell want to. “I’m not as cruel as you think, Samael. I won’t leave you here so they can devour your light. I took it. Your light. Your grace.” I crawl over to him and stare down into his glazed over lavender eyes. “They will hunt you. Just like you hunted sex demons for the last seventy years. They’ve lived in fear of you. And now you will live in fear until your penance is over.” I place my hand over his wound and heal him.
He screams out as flesh knits with flesh, and muscle links with muscle. “Don’t…leave me. They’ll kill me,” he chokes out, eyes darting around to see what’s coming for him. The look of terror in his eyes is priceless and fitting.
“Then it looks like you’d better find a nice place to hide.” I shimmer out from the Gates of Hell and back home to my family.