Sweet Disgrace

But he’d made his offer, and she’d refused, so he was done.

Nicolae was unfazed, closing his tome and meeting the demon’s gaze straight on. “You’re serious about that offer?”

Celeste didn’t have to look up at her adversary. She could clearly imagine the serpentine smile unfurling on his lips. “Absolutely.”

“And your superiors approve?”

Damael made a sound Celeste interpreted as disgust. “Superiors. That’s funny.” He looked down at her, and she could’ve sworn the hard line of his lips softened, a rare hint of emotion crossing his features. He extended a hand to her.

Don’t take it, don’t touch him, don’t…

It was pure instinct that lifted her hand to his, yet it went against everything she had ever been taught, in defiance of every instinct she should have possessed. His skin was warm, tantalizingly so, and a little thrill skittered down her spine. He enclosed her hand in his larger one, stroking the back with his thumb before pulling her up beside him.

The dark turbulence was in his eyes again. Every time she looked into them, she felt she was teetering on the edge of an event horizon. They didn’t reflect light like other eyes. They consumed it, just like she often felt they would consume her.

She should leave. Now. Not only this room, but this assignment. It was over, her last conceivable hope—the only hope she’d had, really—gone. Adam had chosen his fate. As Damael had said, nothing required her to remain and watch the horror this would become and, after all these centuries, she understood him well enough to know nothing she could say or do would change his mind. Except perhaps the one impossible thing he requested of her.

“It’s incredible he offered a bargain, especially one such as this,” Nicolae’s voice spoke unexpectedly. Celeste had almost forgotten they had an audience. She looked at him, blinking several times and snatching her hand from Damael’s. Their joined fingers had been the object of the old man’s gaze. Once that contact was severed, his solemn stare lifted to her face.

She struggled to find her voice. “You aren’t suggesting I should—”

“No, not suggesting. Observing.” His mustache twitched and he went back to his ledgers. “Good night.”

“I believe he was suggesting.”

Celeste slammed her way out the front door of the old house. “I don’t care what you believe.”

Damael kept up with her rapid pace, his own gait smooth and effortless. “His concern, of course, is for the poor soul who’s going to suffer for eternity because of one angel’s selfishness.”

She stopped and whirled on him. “If Adam suffers for eternity, it’s because of one demon’s greed.”

“Or his own.”

“You court the downtrodden, entice them to sign away their most precious possession, and it’s their fault?”

“Well yes,” he said, his careful façade cracking and revealing an unaccustomed indignation. “He could have said no. I held no powers of coercion at that juncture. And I followed through with my end of the bargain beautifully, wouldn’t you say? Within two years, they had a record deal. Two more, they were the biggest rock band in the world. Sixteen years later, they’re still going strong, playing sold out arenas, releasing platinum albums. He’s spent all that time f**king and drugging and drinking himself stupid, and getting paid for it, which was all he ever wanted out of life. It’s probably only because of our bargain that he’s still alive now.”

“That’s nonsense. I read the file. His life would barely be half over if you hadn’t come into it. And he’s more than that.”

“Than what?”

“Than what you see. There’s more to him.”

Damael scoffed. “You’re right, there is more.” He ticked off on his fingers. “The wife he abandoned. The daughter he rarely sees. The family he turned his back on. The—”

“Who hasn’t made poor choices in their lives? Surely there is one good thing you can say about him.”

“I like his music?”

“He must have remorse.”

“Even if he does, he doesn’t try to make it right, does he?”

She drew herself up so that they’d be eye-to-eye if only she were taller. This close, the magnetism of his eyes was even stronger, but she wouldn’t let herself back down this time. As he looked down at her and she stared up at him, the tips of their noses almost touched. “He won’t ever have the chance now, will he?” she said, her voice low and shaking.

Damael only grinned. “You’re truly in a snit over this one, aren’t you? Does that have more to do with him, or with my proposal?”

With a growl of frustration, she turned and stalked away from him. He caught up easily. “It doesn’t have to be this way, you know. I keep trying to tell you. I’ll make it worth your while, and you’ll have another sweet, innocent, blameless soul in Heaven in forty or so years.”

His sarcasm bit into her, but she refused the bait. She walked aimlessly toward the woods surrounding the mansion, knowing she could flee him at any time, but not doing so for reasons she didn’t even want to attempt explaining to herself. Two figures materialized in front of them, and she recognized her friend Tanan, who was on his own earthly assignment. His demon adversary trailed behind him, looking as if she wanted to rip out his throat. They must be on their way to seek Nicolae’s counsel as well.

And that’s the way it’s supposed to be, Celeste thought miserably. Pure animosity. None of this indecent bargaining nonsense Damael was spouting. She gave Tanan a nod, but she didn’t like the way the female demon was looking at her friend, and as they approached, that bloodthirsty glare turned toward Celeste.

“Careful, Nax,” Damael called out to his colleague, and she was almost glad he provided a distraction to pull that leering gaze off her. “Nicolae’s in rare form today. He even danced a little jig for us.”

The female’s blood-red lips tilted at the ends. Now the leering gaze took on an entirely new intent as it devoured the length of Damael’s body. Like him, she was beautiful, but it was a scary beauty. Wickedness rose off her in waves, shone from her pale eyes. Celeste wondered just how well the two of them knew each other, and then wondered why the question sparked such an intense burn of envy.

Holy God. Lust, envy…she was beginning to succumb to sin, and she needed to get away from here. It was madness to remain.

“Did he help you?” Tanan asked Celeste, looking hopeful. She could only hope her own turmoil didn’t show on her face.

“No. It’s lost.”

“Of course it’s not,” Damael said happily. The two angels ignored him as Tanan placed a comforting hand on Celeste’s shoulder.

“You did all you could.”

“Not all she could,” Damael said.

“Shut up,” Celeste snapped at him. Tanan’s head tilted back in surprise, just before an iron grip locked around Celeste’s throat, fast as lightning. For one terrible instant she thought Damael had grabbed her this way, but long fingernails were biting into her flesh, tearing it. The female demon jerked Celeste’s face close to her own.

“He can’t hurt you, bitch,” she sneered. Celeste stared helplessly into that terrible visage, as ridges rose in the delicate features of the face and the icy blue eyes paled to frozen white. “But I can rip off your wings and eat them.”

Suffocating darkness threatened to overwhelm her, the demon’s dark magic working through her like a poison permeating her veins. She struggled to gather her own defenses, to retaliate, but she’d been taken by surprise and pain robbed her of all her senses. Seemingly from a great distance, she heard Tanan shout, and then the merciless grip disappeared and Celeste collapsed to the ground, shuddering.

When she finally managed to look up, she saw Damael had Nax in much the same grip as the other demon had just held her, his hand locked around her throat. Nax was trying to snarl at him, but the effort was futile.

“I suggest,” Damael began slowly, his voice pitched so low it sounded monstrous, “that you go take care of your own business, and leave me to mine.” He thrust her away from him, and she almost landed flat on her black-leather-clad behind. Tanan was looking as if he thought he should intervene, but didn’t know whom he should attack.

Nax glared at Damael one moment longer and then stalked toward the house without another word, her hand at her throat.

“Are you all right?” Tanan demanded, leaning over Celeste as if he meant to help her up. She started as Damael grabbed him, prepared to jump up and defend her friend if she could, but Damael only pushed him toward the house.

“That goes for you too. Get the f**k out of here.”

“But she—”

“She’s fine. Off with you, now. Shoo.” He made a motion as if he were waving a fly away from his soup. Tanan leaned around him, undeterred.

“Celeste—”

She put a hand to her forehead, trying to clear out the lingering dark fog. “I’m all right, Tanan. You can go. Go and win.” She felt sorry for him now, having to deal with that she-devil when she was going to be doubly furious for being bested and embarrassed.

The two males stared at each other for another minute, one gaze puzzled, the other lazy and vaguely contemptuous. Finally, Tanan turned and headed toward the house. Celeste let her arms buckle, her cheek slamming to the ground. She only wanted to lie here for, oh, another century.

“Just my damned luck,” Damael sighed.

She groaned a reply that sounded something like, “What?”

“She had to hit you with the bad mojo. I could’ve used a nice aphrodisiac spell right about now.”

“I hate you.”

“I’m joking. You’ve heard of that, haven’t you? Do they do that where you come from?”

Through her hazy vision, she saw his shoes step closer, saw him crouch down beside her. More of the world came into view as he pushed the hair from her face, tugging gently as he pulled out bits of leaves and broken twigs. She let her eyelids close when the whirling in her head intensified, but that only seemed to make it worse, so she opened them again. “Th-thank you. For stopping her.”

He didn’t reply, just continued his task. She found it soothing, now that she was oddly confident he would kill any threatening force that came near her. Soothing…until she looked at him. Remnants of his earlier anger was still in his eyes. The black irises were so large there was hardly a ring of white around them.

“Why did you do that?” she asked, not allowing herself to look away. Trying to figure out his motives herself proved too much for her clouded thoughts. “I’d have been one less for your kind to contend with.”

He blinked at her. “Do you think that’s what I want?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well, there are those of us who would like to strike you all dead on sight, run rampant in the earth and maim and kill and destroy until it’s a wasteland. You just met one such as that. But I, sweet angel, rather like the competition.”