Winged Passion, page 18
part #3 of Heaven's Heart Series
“Enough!” Hades shouted.
Paschar closed his mouth.
“Did you, or did you not find your brother healing a demon?” Uriel demanded.
“I did.” Paschar drew himself up.
Truth.
“But had you kidnapped and raped her first?” Trick asked.
Paschar’s face turned a dull red. “You do not get to ask questions, traitor.”
Hades tapped his foot. “It’s a valid question, don’t you think?” He turned to Baal, who nodded. “I mean, where’d the demon come from first? Why was he healing her?”
“I found them together,” Paschar said.
“Did you kidnap and rape the demon prior to Trick healing her?” Hades repeated, on Trick’s behalf.
“I don’t have to answer to you.” Paschar refused to look at the god.
Neemah strode forward. “No, but you have to answer to me.”
“Lady Nanael, we are almost related. You know the evil in Cassiel’s heart.”
“You always were a jealous little worm.” Her brown eyes flashed.
Rage made Paschar’s lips thin. “Jealousy is a sin.”
“Then why do you boil with it?” Hades asked. “Now, answer the question.”
“His silence admits his guilt,” Baal said. “Cut his wings off and be done with it.”
Paschar spun. “Who are you? I am innocent of any wrongdoing.”
Truth. But not truth.
Trick narrowed his eyes. “You honestly don’t believe that kidnapping and raping demons is wrong?”
“Of course, it’s not!” Paschar cried. “They are nothing but insects.”
“So, you did it,” Neemah said.
“I didn’t say that.”
How easily he dodges direct questions, Trick thought to his sister. She flashed him a look, then smiled. But it was a cold, cold expression. A blade of glittering starlight appeared in her hand. “Answer the question or lose your wings.”
“No. This is a set-up.”
“The only set-up was you framing your brother,” Hades said. “Now admit it.”
“Never.” Paschar shook his head. “Cassiel deserves this.”
Truth.
“What did I ever do to you?” Trick asked, curious despite himself.
Paschar whirled on him. “What did you ever do? The wonderful healer who could do no wrong? The calm one, the peaceful one? And then one day, I found a feather of yours with the first hints of gold. You didn’t deserve to ascend. I did. I am the one with the talent, with the purpose.”
That was it?
One thousand years of exile, all because his brother had set him up out of sheer jealousy—and the fact that Uriel had been so insecure, he was glad to see Trick lose his wings?
Exile is not a strong enough punishment for him, he thought at Seraphina. He needs to suffer more.
Uriel did, too, but he had no say in that.
Seraphina clasped his hand in hers, her palm sticky with blood. No, she said into his mind. I have an idea.
We need to get you some help. All that blood on you…He squeezed her hand.
It’s all right, it’s not mine. It’s Lucifer’s.
What???
Chapter 35
I will explain later, Seraphina replied.
Although, there wasn’t much to explain.
She just wished she had finished the job. Not to mention that she was still reeling from the revelation that Trick had been a fallen angel.
She’d never have guessed, not in a thousand years.
And now he has his wings back. He will return to Heaven, and I will be stuck in Hell.
They would never see each other again.
I won’t accept it.
She had been prepared to hunt him down beyond death, to try to bring him back: she wasn’t going to give up on him now.
Trick’s hand warmed in her palm, until it grew too hot to touch. She pulled away, but only after her skin had blistered.
He stared at her wound, then her face. “I did that?” His back bowed, and his jaw clenched so hard the tendons in his neck stood out in sharp relief.
What is happening? She asked telepathically, but there was no response, just a burst of pain that made her nerve endings sizzle.
A bright light engulfed Trick, so intense she had to shield her eyes. He groaned as the illumination faded, leaving starbursts on her retina, and kneeled on the floor, his head bowed, wings shivering.
“Trick?” She stepped toward him, holding out her uninjured hand.
He looked up, then took the hand. Energy rushed through her and she was refreshed, healed. The burn was gone.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
He smiled gently. “I wanted to.” Then he unfurled his wings.
Seraphina gasped.
In the background, Uriel cursed and Michael slammed his sword into the floor.
“They’re pretty cool, huh?” Trick said.
“This is a travesty!” Paschar shouted.
“Oh, shut up.” Hades flicked his hand, and Paschar stilled, his eyes glazing over, his mouth open in another retort.
Seraphina held out a wavering hand. “You’re an archangel.”
“He doesn’t deserve it!” Uriel snarled. “He has been cavorting with demons for a thousand years.”
“Only because you took his wings. You failed him, Uriel. You failed us.” Neemah glared at her fellow archangel. “Our Lord has rectified your wrong.”
“My wrong?” Uriel’s eyes burned. He turned to Trick. “Keep out of my way. I am going to petition against this!”
The dark-skinned angel vanished, Michael following in his wake.
“The others will have felt his ascension, but I will go spread the news.” Gabriel met Seraphina’s stare, dipped his head in acknowledgement, and disappeared.
That left Laird, Hades, Trick, Nanael and herself.
I am not worthy to be here.
The realization struck home.
Trick took her hand, running his thumb over her wrist, as if he sensed her discomfort.
An icy wind swept through the room, making her skin pebble. One of the walls grew transparent, and a figure became visible in the distance. Hades whistled low, while Lady Nanael frowned.
Who is it? Could it be...?
But no.
As the figure came closer, it became apparent it was a woman, her skin the color of death, and her sapphire-blue hair swept up high on her head. Dark blue tendrils snaked down over her shoulders, lying carelessly over her silver dress, which sparkled like it was embedded with diamonds.
A heartbeat later, she was in the room, her eyes black pools of darkness. Age and power exuded from her, battering at Seraphina’s mind until she feared she might scream. Then the onslaught tempered, allowing her to breathe, her exhalations misty in the rapidly cooling air.
“My Lady.” Hades bowed low.
Baal followed suit. “My Lady, it is always a pleasure to see you. But I fear I have other matters to attend to. If you’ll excuse me.” The god vanished.
The lady spoke, her voice cold, cold, cold. “He was always one to avoid lingering.” Then she chuckled, the sound reminding Seraphina of skittering beetles.
I do not know who she is, but she is scary.
“You do not bow.” She turned to Lady Nanael.
“You are not my god.” The angel tilted her chin up.
“No, you are my sibling’s creations. That is true.” Those black eyes studied the archangel with intensity.
“Who are you?” Trick breathed.
“I have had many names. I am one, and I am all. But I was once fond of the term Ereshkigal.”
“The Queen of the Underworld,” Trick murmured.
“You know of me. Good.” She smiled, exposing neat, tidy teeth, with slightly longer incisors.
A primordial god.
I am staring at a primordial god.
They rarely took on physical form, with the majority moving on to different worlds, different places.
“Why do you come here? This is not your realm.” Lady Nanael clenched her fist.
“I am here for Cassiel.”
“Me?” Trick’s eyebrows rose.
“You have a choice. Heaven or Hell. You can stay here, but as an archangel, you will be bound to Heaven and its rules for eternity. Or, you can become a true fallen again, and live in Hell.”
Trick tightened his grip on Seraphina’s hand. “I don’t want to lose my wings.”
The goddess shook her head slowly, as if remembering body language from a long-ago era. “You won’t need to.”
He grinned. “Then it’s easy. Hell.”
“What! Cassiel, no.” Lady Nanael shoved her way toward her brother. “You only just ascended. You need time to reacclimatize. We could get to know one another again.”
“We could have gotten to know each other over the past thousand years. Yet you made no effort. The gold in my wings doesn’t change who I am, who I’ve always been.”
Seraphina’s heart swelled to the point of bursting.
“What if she gets her wings back? You won’t be able to see her again.” Lady Nanael pointed at Seraphina.
“Then what happens next is her choice,” Trick said. “I will not bind her to me.”
“You enslaved her before,” Hades commented.
“She offered herself for Z. And I only bought Z out of pity. Anyway, she is the majority owner of the Halcyon Guild now. No one owns her.”
So, Sylvester was correct.
Her rush of power had not been fueled by her anger alone.
“She is a true fallen,” Ereshkigal murmured. “Her return to Heaven will not be so simple.”
“But she hasn’t drunk the blood of a death god.”
“Has she not?” Ereshkigal said, her eyes on Seraphina’s lips.
Lips crusted with gore.
“I must have swallowed some of Lucifer’s blood by accident.”
“That is Lucifer’s blood?” Lady Nanael demanded.
“Yes, I would have cut his head off, but Laird stopped me. I had almost done it.”
“He was wise to do so,” Ereshkigal said. “Sheol can only be ruled by another fallen angel, a death god, or his own progeny. There are few of those in the world. Without Lucifer, there will be chaos.”
The primordial god moved closer to Trick. “Have you chosen? If you do, you must drink my blood. Now you are an archangel, Hades’ is not strong enough.”
“Is there room in Hell for me?” he asked.
“Yes.” Hades nodded. “I will make room.”
Trick turned to the goddess. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter 36
Power buzzed through Trick’s veins, the taste of frozen berries lingering on his tongue. Ereshkigal’s blood did not remind him of death, rather—surprisingly—of fruit and laughter and life. His wings had turned the palest of grays—matching Ereshkigal’s skin tone—while the gold stood out in stark relief.
The primordial god vanished, a strangely flirty smile on her lips. Now, he was left with his sister, Seraphina, and Hades. He wanted to kiss Seraphina silly, but he somewhat doubted she’d appreciate it while they had an audience.
She came for me.
She had thought he was dead, but she had come after him anyway.
No one else had cared enough about him to do so. Not even his sister, whose brown eyes echoed a deep hurt.
“You should have stayed, Cassiel,” Neemah said. “Tried it for a little while.”
“I would have wanted to kill Uriel too much. It’s better this way.”
“Uriel is older than you. You would have failed.”
“But not stronger,” Hades said. “Trick’s ascension was a thousand years in the making. He’s caught up and then some.”
“I—” But Neemah seemed to change her mind. “What do we do about him?” She pointed at Paschar.
“I think we give him to Hades, as a gift for his Hall of Statues,” Seraphina said.
Trick grinned, then rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Oh, that is a great idea.”
“Hall of Statues?” Neemah asked.
“It’s a place where I put people who piss me off. I turn them into gargoyles and leave them there. Some are aware, others aren’t.”
“He deserves to fall,” Neemah said.
“I don’t have an angel in my collection.” Hades rubbed his jaw. “I now desperately have to have one. He’s mine.” The god clicked his fingers, and Paschar vanished.
“You do not get to dictate angel law!” Neemah cried.
“No, but I’m an archangel, and the one who was wronged by him,” Trick said. “I say let Hades have him.”
Neemah glowered. “You can tell your mother, then.”
“Oh, I will. I am wondering what will upset her more, the fact I am an archangel or that her baby boy is now a gargoyle.”
“Shouldn’t she be upset he was a rapist and murderer?” Hades asked.
“You’d think so, but no.” Trick shook his head.
The god narrowed his eyes. “You angels are fucked up.”
“Yup.”
“Cassiel—” Neemah held out a hand.
“Call me Trick,” he said. “And come visit me once in a while, if you want.”
The cloud room around them vanished, and they appeared in Hades’ office. It was a tight fit, with Trick’s wings. Hades bumped past them to his side of the desk, then sat with a sigh.
“Asha goes on leave for two weeks, and this happens. The paperwork alone is going to send me blind.” He looked up at them. “Sit.”
Trick spun his chair around and straddled it, arms resting against the back. Seraphina sat in a more traditional fashion.
Hades nodded. “Did you get the spear?”
“You can’t seriously think that that contract still stands.” Seraphina slammed her hand on his desk, making loose sheets of paper cascade to the floor. “You can’t kill us, I won’t allow it.”
“You just ruined my filing system.”
She jerked back. “That is a system?”
“Yes, we did it.” Trick said, getting things back on track. He reached into his shirt and withdrew the Amenonuhoko. “I managed to swap it out just before Lucifer arrived.”
Seraphina’s jaw dropped.
“Perfect.” Hades held out a hand.
“Why do you want it, anyway?” Trick passed the artifact over.
Hades sighed. “Ereshkigal came to me, and said I had to give you a task, a task which involved you going before Lucifer. She said I had to make sure you did it, threaten you with death if need be. You don’t say no to primordial gods. Ever.”
“Do you think she saw this outcome?” Seraphina asked.
“Probably.”
Trick frowned. “But why the Amenonuhoko?”
“Because I know someone who’d love it, and whose anniversary is coming up.” Hades turned to Seraphina. “Go get clean. I have a few words I want to say to Trick.”
“Is there a bathroom around here?” she asked.
Hades waved a hand, and she disappeared.
“You love doing that.”
“Damn right I do.” The god laughed, but he quickly sobered. “Tartarus isn’t a big place, Trick. Hell is...static, shall we say. But I know someone who can wield the Amenonuhoko.”
It all clicked into place.
“Asha. She can create more land. More Tartarus.”
Hades gave him the thumbs up. “Bingo.”
“Will she want to?”
“Man, she will be able to create her ideal landmass. She’ll make me build her a fortress. She’ll love it. And it’s a great ten-year anniversary present.”
“I thought she just worked for you.”
“She does. But you don’t forget things like anniversary dates when your second-in-command is a death goddess.”
“You’re a death god.”
“And I want to stay that way.”
“Right.” The conversation was beginning to make little sense.
Hades pocketed the Amenonuhoko. “If you want to stay in Tartarus, you will need to swear fealty to the realm.”
“Sure.”
“Bold move, making Seraphina your heir.”
Trick shrugged.
“You might want to check she hasn’t drowned.” Hades smirked, and Trick reappeared in a bathroom. It was huge, and well-appointed, with mosaic walls and floor, a sunken tub with a solid gold faucet, and luxuriously soft towels. The polished stone counter went for miles, and had two sinks, while the shower could fit three people—or two, if one had wings.
Seraphina was in the shower, and she spun, startled at his appearance. She had already palmed a knife—where did she keep that? —and was ready to strike before she recognized him.
“Trick.”
“Seraphina.”
He stepped under the spray with her, clothes and all. She pressed herself to him. “I thought you were dead. I saw you die. I felt it.”
Tears, hot and wet hit his neck, and his heart squeezed. “I would die a million times to make sure you survived.”
She raised her head, the blood gone from her face. “And I would die a million times for you.”
“We’re at a stalemate then.”
“I almost killed Lucifer for hurting you. I would have, if Laird hadn’t intervened.” Her brown eyes were molten as she stared at him.
“No one has ever done such a nice thing for me before.”
She punched him in the arm. “Can you ever be serious?”
“Yes.”
“When?” she demanded.
“When I am making love to you.”
“Making love? Is that what you call it?”
“Yep.”
“Is that your way of saying you love me?” She frowned.
“Yep.”
“Trick!” She put him in a headlock.
“Hey! No fair. I’m the healer angel. Don’t take advantage of me.”
“Aren’t you meant to be taking advantage of me?” she asked lasciviously.
He laughed, delighted in her. In them.
“Don’t you love me?” Trick asked, his voice slightly taunting. “You nearly killed the ruler of Sheol cos he stabbed me a little.”
