How to Seduce an Angel in 10 Days (17 page)

There was something in Ethelred’s voice, something about the set of his mouth, that told Tally maybe things weren’t as they seemed.

In all the darkness, Tally saw a tiny candle flame of hope.

“So again, why are you here, Emilian, if you don’t want what I’ve offered? I don’t see how I can help you with the vote.” He continued to thumb through the magazine as if he didn’t care one way or another about the things going on around him.

“My sister. Where is she?”

Ethelred narrowed his eyes momentarily, then sighed. “I wouldn’t know. I’m not her keeper.”

“Oh, but I think you are. I could make you tell me.”

This time Ethelred put the magazine down and looked up to give Emilian his full attention—his eyes blazing with hellfire. “Listen to me well, you whelp of a whore. I’ve been a demon since mankind was nothing but squirming things in the dirt. When this world ends, I will still
be
. Perhaps you will swallow the sun, but my origins are older, deeper than you mewling things that struggle to keep your faces in the light.”

“Such posturing.” Emilian laughed. “If you could end me, why haven’t you? Why don’t you save the world?”

“Because I don’t wish to.” He accentuated each word and Tally believed him. His gaze slid to Tally and it seemed to say:
That’s your job
.

Tally remembered her lessons with Ethelred on the nature of Hell—adversity. It wasn’t to hurt humans for the sake of hurting them; it was to make them grow, to make them reach their potential for goodness, sacrifice, love.

“That doesn’t change the fact I want my sister, demon.”

“Why?” He went back to thumbing through the magazine.

“She’s the other half of my soul and I need it to finish what’s begun.”

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message.” Ethelred looked him up and down for a moment and, obviously deciding he was lacking, went back again to his gardening magazine.

“She’s probably back at the house. You know it would be just like this demon to hide her from you in plain sight,” Tally whispered in his ear. “And you don’t need him to help with the vote. Like you said, you’ve got me. Let’s go.”

Emilian looked at her, the beast staring out from behind his eyes, and wrapped his arms around her to teleport back to the beach house.

When the beach house became solid around them, Tally realized it had become her anchor somehow. The realization was all the more stark because she knew after what was coming, she’d never be able to return.

“Your angel is long gone,” he sneered.

“I already told you I don’t care.”

“I can see the lie on you. Smell your pheromones. The way your heartbeat accelerates in your chest.”

“Because I’m
hungry
.”

“Soon, pet. I need to find my sister before we end the Powers That Be.”

He was still mortal! He’d be mortal until his sister was infected, too. Only then would they become the invincible beast the Powers feared. Why hadn’t she seen it before?

She had to get that cuff off.

Tally felt her consciousness slipping away, the now familiar touch of the lamia’s presence filling her.

No, together. We’ll do it together,
Tally thought.

“If I uncuff you, I want you to swear on your magick you’ll do as you’ve promised.”

She smiled. “I swear on my magick, I’ll do everything as promised.” If she didn’t follow through, she’d lose her magick, but she didn’t specify which things she’d promised. The binding settled over her, but it was an easy weight to bear.

The cuff disintegrated into granules of sand, sliding from her wrist. The skin was red and raw underneath, burned from just those few minutes of contact.

He still had his arms around her from teleporting and Tally returned the embrace, locking her claws into his shoulders. With that, the lamia burst into the front of her awareness and began to feed.

But it wasn’t like it had been before—it was more metaphysical. It took something from him, something vital and hot. It filled her veins like a molten river of gold. It was bliss unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

He fought her, struggled in her grip, but he’d already lost too much of himself by the time he realized what was happening. The beast shifted as he invaded her, all of that fury and hunger. She knew those sensations, but they were nothing like the power of the lamia.

The punisher inside her consumed the beast easily, greedily, swallowing everything that made him powerful and deadly like some succulent meal.

She tried to stop when she sensed the pure things—Emilian’s willingness to sacrifice himself, his love for his sister, even his forgiveness of Tally herself for what she was doing.

But the lamia wouldn’t stop. She thirsted—said they had to be sure. Emilian had to die to break his curse. Tally flailed for control, but part of her didn’t want to stop. His essence tasted too good, sated her in ways she’d never known, filled pieces of her that she thought would always be empty.

The body of the gypsy prince crumpled in her arms and then, only then, did she release him.

Tally sagged to the floor with him, hot tears burning down her cheeks.

CHAPTER TWENTY

A Falling Star

D
read choked Falcon as he paced back and forth in front of the beach house. Tally’s fear was as strong as if it had been his own. All he knew was that he had to get to her.

His heart had torn itself from his chest when he’d seen Tally with Emilian. The things she’d said—if he hadn’t known better, her words would have broken him. He’d never get the sight of her like that out of his head; it would be there until his next turn on the Wheel scrubbed it from his brain like baked-on barbeque. He’d see it every time he closed his eyes, but he couldn’t hold it against her.

Falcon was the Angel of Love. Now that he’d finally accepted love, he could see Tally’s true feelings for him in a bright starburst in her aura; he could also see what she’d done to herself. There was a darkness hovering over her. It was something strange and new that had merged with her aura—it could only be the lamia.

He was afraid for her now, but he was also so proud of her for doing what she thought was right even though she was terrified. Falcon wished he could have spared her that, the fear. The lamia could, though; it would make her stronger, help her survive, and because of that, he couldn’t fault her or the creature inside her.

But Falcon knew he had failed her. If he’d been strong enough, she never would have had to go through this.

Falcon wished like hell he could slay the monster. All he could think about was that night at the beach house when they’d been watching
The Howling
. She kept hiding her face in his shoulder, looking to him to save her from the monster, even though it was only on a screen.

This was real. The monster had her and she had to fight it without him. He couldn’t ride to the rescue. Damn, he couldn’t even fly. His wings had burned and it had been agony. He knew he’d heal, but what about Tally? What was this going to do to her?

He sank to his knees, at a loss. For once in his life, Falcon didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have a plan, or direction. Logically, he knew he needed to go petition the Powers That Be for another vote, but he couldn’t abandon Tally to Emilian. He couldn’t leave her there, hopeless and afraid. Falcon didn’t even know how to find her.

He looked up at the sky. “Merlin? Are you listening?” Falcon had so much to say, but not enough time to say it. “I’m sorry. I screwed up. Don’t make her suffer because of what I did. Please. This time, I mean it. Help me help her. Not so I can get in her knickers, but so I can save her life. Her soul.” Falcon waited. He knew the Bigger Boss liked to say he worked in mysterious ways, but there was no answer forthcoming.

Falcon, being a Crown Prince of Heaven, had expected one. Immediately, considering the fate of the world was at stake.

Someone had to be at the wheel, didn’t they? That left only the Big Boss—Caspian. Falcon had met him a few times since his ascension. Wasn’t really a bad guy—he’d helped Dred out with his sister. Maybe he could help Falcon?

“Okay, who else is listening? Anyone? Caspian? Look, I don’t know if I have anything you want. Even though I’m already a Crown Prince of Heaven, my soul is a little dirty. No, I lied. It’s a lot dirty. It’s dirty like a—”

“Yes, I get it. Do stop carrying on so.” A voice rumbled from the ether of the sulfuric cloud that bubbled and boiled in front of him. It stank like rotten eggs and convenience store burritos.

“Uh, you don’t look like Caspian,” Falcon said to the debonair man with a sharply groomed goatee who appeared in Caspian’s stead.

“That’s because I’m not, genius.” The newcomer rolled his eyes.

“Well, who are you?”

“The Devil.” He spoke as if that should have been obvious. Falcon didn’t have time for games.

“Last time I checked, Caspian was the Devil,” Falcon said, not liking this guy at all.

“Last time you checked, your girlfriend wasn’t the great and terrible evil. Things change.”

“So, do you have a name or do I call you the Thunder from Down Under?”

“You’re quite the smartass for being the Angel of Love and . . .” He trailed off. “What the fuck happened to your wings? Holy Me, it stinks like that time my granddaughter tried a summoning and lit her hair on fire.”

“Stink? Have you smelled your mode of transportation? I almost puked.”

“Eh, sorry about that. I had burritos for lunch.” He shrugged. “That still doesn’t explain your wings or your stench.”

Falcon thought he was going to be sick. “The dickbag formerly known as Emilian Grey shat all over my cornflakes. He warded me out of the house I was sharing with my parolee with a bag of bone dust and stole my woman.”

“So, your parolee and your woman are the same person? Is this the lamia/Drusilla Tallow/Ethelred debacle?”

“Those people are involved, so I’m going to go with yes.”

He looked at his watch. “Hmm. This is getting down to the wire, isn’t it? Do you want to kill him?”

“Yep.” He was glad the Devil understood. It made things so much easier.

“Well, you can’t.”

“Damn it. Why not?” Falcon snarled. So much for easier.

“I said so.”

“Like I said before, who the hell are you?”

“Exactly.” He smirked and then sighed. “Fine, I’m Hades. Merlin retired. Caspian ascended. I thought they were supposed to send out announcements or something, have a party, have cake. Someone gets drunk and photocopies their ass. You know the drill.”

“I guess he was too busy with this whole destruction of life as we know it thing.”

“I suppose that’s a reasonable excuse for missing social obligations,” Hades acknowledged.

“Do you think I can hitch a ride? I have to find Tally.”

“I guess, but you’ll have to hold on to me. It might feel a little gay,” Hades shrugged. “All hard bodies pressed together and such.”

Falcon coughed. “What?”

“You know, man flesh rubbing against man flesh.” Hades smirked.

“It’s not like I asked to ride you like a pony.”

“You kind of did.” Hades examined the end of his tail for a moment.

Falcon considered what he’d said. Maybe he had. Fuck it. It didn’t matter. He had to get to Tally. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. If that’s what it takes to get it done.”

“I think I like you.” Hades grinned. “I wasn’t sure I would, you know with the pink wings and everything.”

“Why does everyone feel the urge to comment on the wings? Doesn’t the shade come with the office?” Falcon sighed.

Hades cocked his head to the side as if he were considering the juiciest bit of gossip this side of
Desperate Housewives
and then leaned in toward Falcon as if he was going to share said tidbit. “The last guy?” The Devil looked around to see if anyone else was listening.

“Go on,” Falcon said, not liking where this was going.

“His wings were red,” Hades said in a conspiratorial tone. “Of course,” he added as he straightened, “we all gave him tons and tons of shit about his”—Hades paused to snicker—“
red
wings.”

“Cupid just can’t win.”

“Nope, but you’ve got to understand, we all feel we got gypped by love at one time or another, so we all figure fair is fair since you, or your office, has it in for us.”

“That has nothing to do with me. It’s Fate, not Cupid,” Falcon protested.

Hades held up a hand. “Preaching to the choir, man. You know how much shit I get on a daily basis because I’m the oh-my-god-devil?”

“Yeah, I bet everyone blames everything on you. If it’s not the tidal wave on some island nation, it’s a serial killer next door,” Falcon sympathized.

“Exactly. I can see this is going to be a beautiful friendship. Of course, you know everyone also thinks Cupid is already in league with the Devil.”

“If I’m already doing the time, might as well do the crime, right?”

“You sound like an old pro. I can hardly believe you’ve only been in office for a few months.”

Falcon inspected what was left of the tips of his wings and was less than pleased with what he found. He wondered how long it was going to take for them to grow back. “Only a few months and I’ve already lit my wings on fire.”

“Technically,” Hades said, “it wasn’t you.”

“Since you’re the Big Boss, do you think you could fix them?” Falcon asked hopefully.

“Why does everyone think I have magick?”

“Don’t you?” Falcon gave him a sly look.

“Not unless you want black wings.”

“I’ll take ’em!” Falcon tried not to sound too excited.

“Yes, but your kisses taste like cotton candy to your woman, right? That comes with the pink. If I change your wing color to black, you’ll taste like licorice. Does Tally like licorice?”

“No.” Falcon would have stomped his foot like an eight-year-old girl throwing a tantrum if he’d been any less of a man.

“Red tastes like cherry. I could maybe do red, but I think you’d taste like Twizzlers. They’d look pretty fucking cool though, with black tips.”

“So Tristan tastes like licorice?” Falcon asked hopefully.

“No, he’s Death. He will taste like ash and despair to anyone who hasn’t known death intimately.”

“Intimately? That’s disgusting.”

“It can be,” Hades said with a shudder. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I guess. How do we do this?”

“We have to spoon.”

“What?”

“I told you it was a little gay.”

“Whatever. Let’s get on with it.”

“So, of course, you know I’m kidding. I just wanted to see what you’d say.”

“Thank Merl—uh, Caspian for that.”

“Good save! Every time you do that, you solidify his power base.”

“You’re full of fun facts, aren’t you? Anything I should know about Cupid?”

“You can’t be shot with your own bullet,” Hades said with a meaningful look.

Falcon felt sheepish for a moment. The Devil sure did know a lot about him. “Can we go?”

“Yeah, I’m getting to it.”

“Do you need wing clearance?” Falcon asked with a sigh.

“No.”

“Fine.” He moved to stand behind the Devil, because one didn’t want the Devil looking over one’s shoulder and Falcon wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Is that a love gun, or are you happy to see me?” Hades laughed.

“Considering the situation, I’m very happy to see you,” Falcon tossed back.

“I’ll say this for you—you’re a guy who can give the Devil a run for his money. Hold on tight. You’ve missed most of the big show. We’ll catch her at the Hall of Gods.”