Heavenly Lover (23 page)

“And my ‘afterlife’…”

“Oh, that’s a good word for it.”

“Okay, my afterlife is totally my own, as long as I keep turning souls, right? No one to tell me I have to go after this person or that, how long to take, where to live, travel, whom to chose as a lover, any of that dictated to me then?”

“No one. I just want you to keep in touch with me. And that is only because I care about you.”

“Please.”

“I sincerely do. You don’t believe me?”

She suspected there was a heart in the blackness somewhere. It probably made him more effective that way, she thought.

The rest of the conversation went on the same vein. In the end, Audray begged for another day or two to think it over, and Josh told her no.

“Here it is, the moment of truth. Will you do it?”

With a sigh, she shrugged. “Yes?” It came out a question. Immediately she felt sick to her stomach. Josh promised she would not feel that way when she awakened in the Underworld. He encouraged her not to think about it too much and act right away.

She went to bed that night, taking the entire bottle of prescription sleeping pills, along with a chaser of wine. Neal was out of town, so the timing was perfect. She left him a note telling him she was off to Tahiti with a new flame, a rediscovered friend. She had been bugging him to take her there, so he would believe it.

As she was drifting off to sleep she wondered whether or not her artificial breasts would have to be removed by the entry team before gaining admittance. She sincerely hoped they would not. She had paid a heavy price for them in more ways than one.

And then her last remaining thought as a human came to her in a delicious wave of expectation. She would finally get to deal with that bastard, Burt.

On her terms.

Chapter 30

A line of ragged men stood outside the hall Josh had rented under the excuse of holding an AA meeting. Well, something like that, he thought. They could have all willed themselves inside, but they waited for Josh, who made a point to hold the keys high above his head, in case there were any non-angel onlookers in the neighborhood.

The men shuffled in, the sounds of their mumbling and creaking of folding metal chairs deafened the heavy footsteps. Josh knew not everyone here wanted to be. Some of them didn’t even want to be dark angels. He knew he had to make some examples to save the rest. Get rid of the “bad apples,” although in this case, that meant the ones that were too good to be bad. He needed to exert control. Discipline had been lacking and their numbers were down.

He stood at the podium in front of his audience of thirty or so men of various ages and sizes. The room was the fellowship hall for a small country church, in need of paint, and although swept clean, the vinyl tiled floor was scraped from years of shoe marks. A four-foot high stage with a fraying beige curtain took up one end of the room. A tiny kitchen was carved out of the corner at the other end where the entrance was. Twelve step posters and religious sayings were scattered around the walls with masking tape and pushpins.

Most of the men wore black, but a few had some promise as real dressers. One showed up in full biker gear, an older angel looking for a refresher course. Josh liked that boldness. The biker was different. Nice touch. He gave him a special nod and began his prepared speech.

“Most of you know I abhor meetings. Same for lectures. But I have a unique opportunity here. We’re going to do a kind of student teaching assignment. I have prepared a scenario, and I want all of you to take a look at it and come up with a solution. The most creative solution will win a prize.”

There was not a single reaction on the part of the audience. Josh thought perhaps his eyes were deceiving him. What a lackluster bunch of duds these are. Only a few were his own converts.

This wasn’t going well. A couple of men who Josh didn’t recognize arrived late. Since they weren’t part of his quota, he vaporized them on the spot just inside the doorway. That did get everyone’s attention. One pair of boots remained lodged in the doorway, still standing to attention, but smoking.

“And when I call a meeting, like the first one I have called in over two weeks, I expect you will show up and be on time! Got it?”

There was a profuse nodding of heads, with more animated grumbling. Josh knew the paperwork in the Underworld as new recruits could halfway kill a new one. Otherwise, he noticed several of them might in time become fine dark angels.

“Now for the bad news.” Josh smiled. How he loved the bad news. He rapped his fingers on top of the lectern, scanning the faces before him. Power surged through his veins.

“Only two-thirds of you, that means about twenty or so, will pass this next test. The rest of you, well”—he pointed to the bits of smoldering black boot—“the rest of you will join your two buddies here.” He paced back and forth once in front of his class, then turned quickly. “Anyone want to just volunteer this morning, save me the trouble of the evaluation? Anyone know right now they are going to fail and just want to get it over with?” His eyes searched the crowd. Only the biker guy made eye contact. He heard someone whimper.

“Who was that?” Josh brought his brows together and squinted his eyes. A couple of hands pointed to a younger dark angel, who apparently had peed in his pants.

Instantly the two who had pointed were vaporized as well, causing the young dark to wail, sheer terror in his pathetic voice.

“That was for telling on your own kind. We stick together or we die together. Do I make myself clear?”

The room erupted in a series of “Yes sir’s” and verbal acknowledgements, including one who called out, “Whooya.”

“Okay. Let me set it up for you.” Josh began his story. “There are lots of reasons to claim someone’s soul, not the least of which is that there is attrition.” He pointed to the still smoldering chairs on either side of the shivering young angel, who bolted for the back door. Josh sighed and looked down at his feet while the boy left the hall.

“Excuse me,” Josh said as no one else moved or said a word. Through the open doorway he spotted the young angel crying and running, looking back in Josh’s direction. Just then, a pickup truck came along and hit him, sending him flying, lying in a heap of legs and arms twisted in all directions.

They do look like a sack of bones.

Josh left the lectern and walked out the hall and into the street. He stared at the truck driver, his red eyes blazing. The pickup sped off in a squeal of rubber and smoke.

The young man was in pain, but of course could not be killed. Josh asked, “What’s your name, son?”

“Felix.”

“Felix? What kind of a fucking name is Felix? Didn’t they give you a new name?”

The boy nodded.

“I’m waiting,” Josh said impatiently. He was tapping his boot toe.

“Beelzebub.”

Josh reacted like he’d been hit. “Fucking assholes. Who’d you piss off down there?”

The boy didn’t look up.

“Who’s your sponsor?”

“Peter.”

“Okay, we’re gonna talk after this meeting.” Josh continued shaking his head. “Peter. Huh. What an asshole.” He roughly lifted the boy up by his arm, righting him as the boy’s limbs healed, solidifying quickly. Within seconds he was able to stand on his own. Sizing him up Josh asked, “He know you were coming up here to me?”

“He requested it.”

This Josh didn’t need. Not now. Not ever. This kid was either a spy or someone Peter wanted eliminated, Josh thought.

He led the boy back into the classroom. Josh heard the chairs creaking again, like he wouldn’t know the dark angels had been glued to the windows to watch the boy’s demise. If he was going to control the situation, he would to have to show them how random his mercy was, just so they could never count on anything from him but chaos. That way he wasn’t categorized. That way they couldn’t figure out anything he did or why. Josh wanted total autonomy.

“Maybe they didn’t tell you before you came to us, but in order to stay on the ‘winning’ side of the cut, you have to continue claiming souls. Occasionally you will find someone you think will go dark, and they pull out at the last minute. Any of you turn anyone yet?” Josh scanned the room. Biker dude had the only raised hand.

“Okay. Lots of things can happen. But what really pisses me off is when a Guardian gets them in time and changes their mind. You’re going to have to learn how to get the Guardian taken care of. Anyone want to guess what we do?”

The biker dude stood up, rocked his crotch back and forth, holding onto imaginary hips. Snickers and chuckles erupted in the room. Even Josh liked his style. Man of little words, all action.
I like that.
He made a note for later. This guy he could use.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. So, what does the Guardian want more than anything else?” The room was mum. The boy piped up.

“To save someone’s life?”

“Exactly,” Josh responded. “Good job, son. Maybe you’re going to work out after all. In most cases, I would say to just give up when you get one of these around. Not really worth all the trouble they cause you. But sometimes the angel is a great target. Sometimes she’s more vulnerable than she thinks. I got one of those for your first assignment, gents.”

He gave out Daniel’s address.

“As was so nicely pointed out, we want to seduce this little angel. I want you to be gentle with her at first. Then we’ll take the gloves off, okay? Now remember, we can’t force her—rape does not count. That will earn you vaporization. Any questions?”

There were none, of course.

“You boys are probably a bit out of practice. Hell, some of you probably never did treat women right. About time you learned.” He stopped and smiled from experience. “Nothing better than turning an angel. You do it once, you’ll be hooked.”

He gave them a quick lesson in manners. With little else in the way of instruction, he adjourned the meeting.

For the next few days, Claire had ardent suitors wherever she went. She had flowers delivered to her, was serenaded with singing telegrams, received special chocolates, fancy lingerie, and teddy bears. One creative guy shifted into a Fabio body and showed up at the door dressed as a Spartan. Josh knew none of these things would work. He was getting Daniel primed for one last push. None of these dark angels had the powers Josh had. They were strictly amateurs.

Josh himself delivered yellow roses in person to Daniel’s door. “I hear she likes the flowers. Are my guys treating her nice?”

“You’re wasting your time, Josh. Leave us alone.”

“You can’t be serious. She doesn’t find any of my boys attractive?”

“Of course not. And the flowers are giving her a headache.”

“So, Daniel, still think I will give up? Can I come in and discuss it with you? You still haven’t given me a chance to tell you my side of the story. Why not hear me out?”

“I think you will move on to better things. This has to be taking up an awful lot of your precious time.”

“How much time do
you
have, my friend?” Josh got the door slammed in his face. He liked that he had hit a nerve. One of these times, he’d get the home run he was looking for.

Chapter 31

Angela looked up from her book, distracted by a sheet of rain hitting the bookstore’s picture window. The impact had such force the glass bowed, and for a second she thought it would. Her gaze focused on the people outside, and she noticed a man across the street battling his umbrella, which had turned inside out by the sudden gust. Next to him, a tall man in black leaned against the green metal signal standard, one bent knee crossed in front the other. His back was turned to her. He wore knee high black boots. His head dripped wet in the rain, his hair appearing darker than the light brown she knew it was. She would recognize him anywhere—James. The human man she loved wasn’t human anymore; he was a dark angel.

Her pulse quickened. Though she was in a crowded bookstore, she felt utterly alone and vulnerable.

There was a store exit around the corner and she chose to take it. Once out on the street, she turned in the opposite direction she’d spotted James, without looking for him. To summon transport all she had to do was mentally request it. That would have been safe. That would have been wise. Yet she kept walking in the rain.

The back of her neck prickled with a current that slithered down her spine. Every day for the past two weeks she’d felt watched. Now that she saw him, she knew she’d been right.

She’d recognized him by the position of his bent knee alone because she had seen him stand in that position on many occasions. How familiar she was with his long legs. And with the flat abdomen and its trail of dark brown hair leading deliciously below. She knew the sound of his heartbeat, as she’d she laid her head against his smooth warm chest and felt his arms around her for protection so many times. She had kissed the muscles that rippled under the surface of his bronzed skin while he was sleeping. Later, as their relationship progressed, she had done so while he was awake and could watch her. Her fingers had traced the dark nipples that became tighter with the delicate touch of her fingertips and tongue.

Everything along the street and sidewalk was unusually vivid. The coolness of walking in the fresh, rainy air on this grey day felt good. She loved the sounds of the cars whooshing past, spraying water to the curbside. The cold rain on her face made her skin bloom like a flower. And somewhere, behind her, he followed.

She had worshiped his body. She had worshiped this man and bore a scar on her heart—his mark on her forever—like a scarlet letter. Surprisingly, each time she looked at her naked body in the mirror, the scar didn’t show through her angel skin. It had burned, growing in intensity since their parting. Today, it throbbed in her chest, causing her pain. Yet, she wanted to feel it.

The warmth of his gaze on her as she walked down the rainy sidewalk was gentle, and persistent. She welcomed the feeling. It moved from her exposed ankles, all the way up the backs of her calves, behind her knees, and under her skirt as she walked. It traced over her cheeks and found the base of her spine where it inched up one vertebra at a time. Then it fanned out and fluttered up the base of her neck into her scalp.

She rolled her head, easing and stretching the muscles. At her temples she felt tiny circles of heat. Warmth washed over her nipples. Fingertip tingles slid down her stomach into her panties. When she felt the gentle pressure on her mound she had to stop walking. She was undone. Every part of her ached for him.

He has come back to claim me.

He was clever coming to her this day—the day before she was to return home. He wouldn’t interfere with her last guardianship. He probably had been watching her breathe life into the therapist. Her charge’s encounter with the beautiful redhead at the symphony would keep him satisfied for two lifetimes. Angela had matched and intertwined them. The woman was creative and experimental. The therapist desired to be the student again, not the teacher. They blended together, complemented and contrasted one another perfectly. He had found true love at last. She found someone to share her healthy sexual appetites and need for dominance. It was a beautiful thing, and it would last. Her work was done.

Her bag was packed. Doris was to pick her up tomorrow morning at ten. She would meet Claire for hot chocolate first. Then Doris would take her home to Heaven, less than twenty-four hours from now.

But that was before she’d seen him.

What will they say?
She hoped Claire would make a different choice than she had. She really did.

The spicy, ancient scent wafted up from behind her. He held a large black umbrella over her head, but stood just behind, out of her line of sight. She heard his breathing, as his warm finger traced the arch of her right ear, touching her for the first time. She closed her eyes and heard his husky voice.

“Angela. Angela.”

She had dreamed of hearing him say her name, claiming her for himself, every day since they parted.

“My beautiful, sad Angela with the broken heart.”

She started to turn, but he held her shoulders.

She felt the warm breath and the gentle brush of his lips against her skin as he whispered in her ear, “No. Not yet, my love. Soon.” He leaned into her, pressing his body against her back, bringing his arm around her waist and up under the front of her sweater. “Ah, yes. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”

Angela inhaled sharply, straightening her spine. She couldn’t concentrate on anything except what was going on under her pink fuzzy sweater.

They were still on the sidewalk a block away from the bookstore. How many cars had driven past? With a warm touch to her backside that lingered hot like she’d been burned, he urged her forward, walking slightly behind her. She stayed under the umbrella. Then she stopped.

“Are we going to my place?” she asked.

“Is that where you want to go?”

“I’m not sure. But I need to leave word.”

At these words he gripped her arm and squeezed. She could tell it thrilled him. She wanted to turn to face him, but he stopped her again.

“We have rules. You know the rules.”

“Yes,” she said calmly.

They continued walking toward her apartment. He closed the umbrella when they entered the lobby. She heard him shake it. They headed for the stairs and he was right behind her, sometimes grazing her thigh with his own. They mounted the steps together. To an outsider it would look like she was leading him. Maybe I am, she thought. They walked down the thick carpeted hallway without a sound. Alone.

“Are you changed?”

“I’d like to think you would find it an improvement.”

He put his hand up to the back of her neck and massaged it, digging strong fingers into her flesh. It was where she always carried the weight of her mission.
He remembered. He wants me relaxed. Yes. So natural under his touch.
His actions were gentle and small, but his intention screamed loudly.

At her apartment, they stopped. She put her key into the lock, but before opening it, pressed her forehead against the old wooden door and sighed. “I’m terrified. You need to know that.”

“Of course. Let me take care of all that. I will be gentle with you. I want this experience to be completely pleasurable. For you, especially. There is no pain. But you will feel sad we have not joined before. You will pine for the days we didn’t have. But we will have forever now.”

“Forever in the Underworld, you mean?”

“Forever mine. Exclusive unto each other. Forever.”

She sighed again, loving the velvet words, and opened the door. After stepping in, the door clicked shut behind them. They were completely alone together for the first time. She stood in the middle of the living room, removed her jacket, and waited for him to touch her again.

He handed her a pen and notebook from behind. “No more distractions. Just write your note and we’ll finish this.”

Angela bowed her head as she took the notebook and pen. She squeezed his hand as he released them. His fingers brushed her cheek. Tears streamed down her face. She tasted salt on her lips as he wiped them free with his forefinger. He pressed his face into the back of her hair, rubbing her neck and shoulders.

“Now, now. No more painful tears. You’re going to love this.”

 She rolled her head and moaned. His attentiveness made her melt.

“How many have you turned?” She asked, barely able to speak.

“You are my first,” he said as his tongue tickled her ear. “Come, let’s write the note and be on to . . . better things.”

She nodded, sat at her desk, and wrote:

Dear Doris,

He came for me.

I couldn’t say no.

I will always love all my Guardian friends, forever.

Tell Father and Mother my need was too great.

I cannot fault any of their teachings, it’s just

that I needed to be by his side.

Forever. Whatever the consequence, it will be worth it.

Pray for me,

Angela

She attached it with a safety pin to the handle of her yellow transport bag. She would bring it to the meeting with Claire, for her final farewell. Angela was struck with how simple it was to wrap everything up.

A lifetime as an angel reduced to a few short words.
She would sacrifice her angel life tonight like shedding her clothes.

Angela looked at her apartment, mentally saying goodbye, and then dropped her gaze to her feet, following him as he led her by the hand into the bedroom. She wasn’t sad, or even afraid. Curiously, she felt more alive than she ever had been.

First he removed her sweater. As he kissed her neck, she leaned back into him, reaching up with her hand to feel the side of his face as he pressed against her cheek. He undid her bra and delicately felt the flesh of her breasts release to him with her sigh. He squeezed her nipples and cupped her softly, then massaged them as his hands and probing fingers worked lower.

Her skirt was unbuttoned at the back, and he carefully unzipped her. He inhaled as the palms of his hands slid down her rear. Every place he touched burned. She could feel the heat of his huge chest against her small back. Was he murmuring something? She felt a vibration coming from him, creating a buzz all throughout her body. Her skirt dropped to the ground along with the bra. He rubbed his hardness against her. His fingers slid down between her legs and then breached the lace remaining at her upper thigh as he moved to the center of her, massaging over and under the delicate material.

“Mine,” he whispered.

He pulled her panties down and she stepped through them, bending one knee and then the other. He used the opportunity to caress her buttocks and the back of her thighs. His hands moved forward again, with thumb and finger he rubbed and lightly pinched her folds, up and down, and circled her clitoris. She moaned and started to turn.

“Not yet. Almost,” he said. “I like you impatient, though.”

“I can wait. I will do anything you ask,” she gasped.

“Oh, you will.”

Angela’s breathing was deep but ragged. Time was suspended. Everything she ever wanted was about to come to her and she would be slave to it.

She heard the rustling of clothes, aware that he was removing his. At last she felt his hardness pressed against her buttocks, the velvet smoothness of him so hot for her.

“Ah, my sweet Angela. I have dreamed about this almost non-stop.”

“Yes, me too.”

“Are you ready?”

She slowly turned to face him as her answer. She looked down as she reached and squeezed his member with both hands. It was larger than before.

He uttered a guttural, “Yes.”

Then slowly, she looked from his groin, up his flat stomach and chest. The surface of his skin looked more golden than she remembered, like it glowed from a light within. She smiled at the surprise that a dark angel could glow.

“What is it, love?” he said to the top of her head.

“Your skin. You are so . . . beautiful.”

“Oh, yes. You will enjoy all of it, too.”

She leaned in and kissed his nipples, then traced a line with her tongue up his neck. Her lips and tongue were singed with the lingering taste of his skin. Her mouth watered for more.

“You have no idea how that feels,” he gasped.

 She had the hunger to see his face. Only then would she know if she was condemned for a decision she could not help making. She raised her head.

She was prepared to see something frightening. True, his clear blue eyes were gone. These deep black eyes were older, stronger. They created an instant erotic attraction.

Now she realized the unknown was more frightening than the real thing. His lips curved up at the corners in that familiar smile of his, the creases at the side of his mouth were still there, as were the long delicate nose and prominent jaw line that smelled of spice and faraway places. He had the same beautiful body. It was him, after all, but a more physically stunning version of him, as if tiny imperfections had disappeared, leaving his wonderful essence, but enhanced. His eyes sparkled more, his lips were redder, and the flesh of his chest and arms felt like warm marble under her exploring fingertips.

She opened her mouth a little, begging him to lower his face to her, then applied her lips to his. She needed this first kiss to calm her shaking body and to close the gap between them, to demonstrate her acceptance of his new form. She inhaled his scent like a drug.

“Yes, yes. Take it all in. It’s easier the more you take inside you.”

She felt smoothness in her pulse as she allowed his scent to permeate her flesh. He lightly blew on her face, and she closed her eyes, a little dizzy, but left with a warmth that washed all the way down her spine, finishing between her legs. She parted them slightly, allowing him to insert first one then another finger inside her.

“This,” he said as he moved his fingers inside back and forth with careful strokes, “will become the seat of your power. This”—she closed her eyes and moaned, arching her back as he pressed further inside her—“becomes your center and will become more . . . important. It grows stronger when you have surrendered your soul to me.” Then he added, “Mine.”