Far From Heaven

Time could be deceptive here. Hours could feel like days, or conversely, days could pass in only a few minutes. He hoped not much time had gone by, because every minute counted for Madeleine. But his hope was running out.

“How long have I been here?” he finally asked his constant companion, drooping against the cursed chains that kept him from falling to the ground. His voice sounded too weak to his own ears.

“What makes you think I’d tell you that?” The sound of metal scraping against metal grated in Ash’s head. What was he bringing out now? Fuck, if only he could see…

Or maybe his lack of sight was a blessing. The other demon could very well be bringing out the rack—or worse—now that Ash was weak enough that he wouldn’t be able to fight them when they placed him in it.

The magic holding him in human form had long since fallen away. If Madeleine had been standing here now, she’d see a beast she would run screaming from. Maybe even more so now that his wings were in tatters and he could tell he was encrusted with grime and blood that ran black. His clawed hands clenched into fists. Madeleine. He was going to lose her, might have already lost her.

That knowledge, not the fear of any impending torture, gave him a surge of furious energy. He jerked against the chains, roaring and cursing.

“Well, well, he’s showing spirit again. I like it. Gives me something to break all over again. Along with his bones.”

Someone else was here; he heard their feet shuffling. Felt hands first on one arm and then the other, working at the chains. This could be his chance if only the damned mask weren’t still in place. It had become so heavy he could hardly lift his head. He had no way to remove it. Still, he prepared to give them a hell of a fight.

It didn’t last long. As soon as his limbs were free, he hit the floor after only a few pathetic struggles. The others’ laughter echoed throughout the room. Then their hands were on him again, lifting him, placing him on the dreaded contraption.

He wouldn’t beg, wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. But he did discover, when he felt his hands being tied down, that demons could pray. They could do it fervently.

And even have those prayers answered, somehow.

“Stop!”

Ash must finally be hallucinating, because that voice wasn’t whose he thought it was. It couldn’t be. It had made him cringe far too many times to be welcome now…but it was. Holy fuck, was it ever welcome.

“Riam?” he said and, if indeed he was imagining things, then the others were too, because they emitted vicious hisses at the intrusion of an angel in their quarters. Ash could almost laugh at the way Riam must look right now, all bedecked in pristine white and gold amidst the darkness and squalor of the dungeon. But he was too stunned for anything other than a silent thank you to whoever had been listening.

“I have an order from the High Tribunal that he is to be released at once.”

“Let him go.” That was Metos, his grim voice coming from somewhere near the entrance. “But I’ll have you know this isn’t over, angel.”

“It is for now.” Riam seemed to be walking closer as he spoke. “Get him out of this cursed thing this instant.”

A moment later, Ash’s hands were free, and he was lifted upright. Fingers fumbled at the back of his neck, unfastening the lock on the mask, and it fell away. By all that was unholy, it felt good. He groaned, rolling his head on his shoulders, before finally cracking open his eyes.

Riam’s brightness caused him to screw them shut again. He hadn’t realized how blinding that bastard was up on the surface. The hands that had been holding him up pitched him forward. He expected to land in a humiliated heap on the floor, but instead, strong arms caught him under the shoulders. Silken robes brushed his face, and the welcome scent of the topside world filled his nostrils, chasing out the bitter, burning sulfur.

“Thank you,” he said, unable to lift his voice above a whisper. His eyes opened just enough to see that inches from his face, one of the protective amulets burned orange and flickered like fire where it hung around Riam’s neck. It was the only way the angel could survive in this atmosphere.

As usual, Riam was all business. “Madeleine needs your help. Are you willing to accept mine to go to her?”

“With all that’s within me, yes.”

Metos’s voice from across the room was like the crack of a whip, something else he’d grown accustomed to while he’d been in this hole. “You leave here to go to her and you die, Ashemnon. I’m done with this. You’ll face the slowest and most agonizing death you can imagine.”

Riam ignored him. “And you will help her?”

“You even have to ask me that?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I’ll do anything for her. I’d gladly let you put me back on the rack if only it would save her.”

He sensed the angel nod. “That’s good. But there is one other promise I need you to make me before we do this. It’s very important.”

“Anything.”

Riam hoisted him up as best he could and began trudging toward the entrance with him. “Don’t let her see you looking like this. My God, you’re ugly.”

Chapter Fifteen

Madeleine didn’t know how much time had passed and, since Riam had left, she had no one to ask. It had to be days, surely. Surely. Every minute that ticked by brought her closer to someone coming to save her, so she had to believe something would happen any moment now. It was the only thing keeping her going.

Except Celeste. The other girl stayed and talked to her to keep her company. She came up with idle chitchat as best she could with no response, and sometimes she read to her. From what Maddie had been told, there was a network of angels on earth and she was in one of the many houses they owned. She was lying in a bed, according to Celeste, and should be comfortable.

Every so often a man came in and spoke with Celeste—she recognized his voice as the one who’d been with her and Riam when they’d come to Maddie’s rescue. They called him Damael and he had to be Celeste’s boyfriend or husband, judging from the way they flirted. They were obviously in love. Just before Riam had left, Maddie had asked him to get someone to go to her apartment and take care of her parrot. Damael offered to do it, and she’d overheard the hilarious conversation that ensued when he got back.

“That bird called me a demon!”

“What?” Celeste had asked incredulously.

“It freaked me the f**k out.”

“I bet.” Celeste had laughed and laughed. “I’ll go with you next time. I’ve got to meet this bird.”

It was hard to lie there and listen to people talk about something she could easily clear up. But that exchange had given her some amusement. So did a lot of the other things Damael said. He had a wry wit that reminded her a lot of Ash, which only made her miss him all the more.

Floating in pitch-black nothingness gave one a lot of time to ponder life’s quandaries. Everything had happened so fast—one day she’d been dating what she thought was a normal guy, the next day she’d learned he was a creature from Hell who wanted her soul. What would tomorrow bring, if she ever got out of here? She wanted to find out. So many times in life, she’d wondered if there was a point to it all. But there’d been a curse on her, and it was lifted now. She’d never been so eager to simply live, and her heart broke to think she might not get a chance to. How long could she stay this way and survive?

At that moment, she was alone, but she thought she heard movement outside the room. No, more than that. She heard shouting.

Fear shot through her. What was this, now? Another attack? She still feared one of them would come back to finish what they’d started, though Celeste had assured her she was safe and well protected. The door to her room flew open, banging against the wall, and if she could’ve scrambled from the bed and hidden under it, she would have.

“Maddie!” Celeste’s voice was high and excited, no hint of fear. “Riam’s back! He’s brought Ash.”

Oh, thank you, God. Thank you. The irony of thanking God for her demon lover wasn’t lost on her, but she couldn’t worry about it at the moment.

“Madeleine.” That voice, his voice, Ash’s voice… Deep in her soul, she cried just from hearing it again, but he didn’t sound right. Frustration ate her alive and she mentally screamed out to the only one who could hear her.

“Riam! Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. He’s weakened, but he’s okay.”

“Please, please tell him to hold my hand.”

She heard him sigh in her mind. “He already is, sweetheart. Like he’s never going to let it go again.”

“Tell him I love him.”

“Wait a moment and you can tell him yourself,” Riam said out loud.

“I’m here,” Ash whispered, so close his lips had to be pressed to her ear. Everything within her wanted to surge toward him, feel his strength. And if he was weak, she would lend him what she had left. “It’s going to be all right, Madeleine. I’m going to fix this.”

Dammit, he needed to hurry because she had so much to tell him. He didn’t have to bother saying he would help her—she knew he would. No matter what he’d said at her door just before this nightmare had gotten infinitely worse, she knew better. Maybe she shouldn’t forgive him for what he’d done to her. Maybe she was crazy for doing so. All she knew was that most of the time she’d lain here helpless had been spent worrying as much about him as about herself. She was more than willing to find out what that meant for them, if he felt the same.

Ash squeezed her hand. It was when she returned the gesture that she realized she’d felt him do it and had even felt her own response. Excitement rang through her, and the muscles in her legs jerked.

“Easy,” Ash said. “Just relax, let it work.” Now she could feel his palm resting on her chest, just as he’d done their first night together. Only now, instead of pulling the life from her, he was giving it back. Warmth radiated out from his hand, stealing through her limbs. Bringing rush after rush of sensation, so unfamiliar now it was almost painful. She inhaled and felt her lungs expand. Oh, it was glorious to feel again. But nowhere near as glorious as it would be when she could see his face.

Ash watched her, trembling under the exertion of the spell. He was thankful he had the strength to do it at all. The fatigue was nothing that wouldn’t take care of itself in time, but he needed to be strong for her now. And he would be, no matter what it took out of him.

When her eyes slowly opened, he wanted to collapse in relief…until she focused on Riam standing at the foot of her bed.

“Wow,” she breathed, seemingly transfixed. Too transfixed. Ash glanced back and really noticed what Madeleine was seeing for the first time: Riam with his broad chest, flowing black hair, snowy white wings and sky-blue eyes.

“Hey!” Ash protested. Madeleine looked at him then—finally—and her face broke into a big grin. Her eyes filled with tears. It was all the confirmation he needed.