Faith (Soul Savers Book 7) (4 page)

And I continued
traveling down, down, down.

Heat blasted at me from
below. Then fire surrounded me, hot and searing, singeing my broken
wings. I screamed again as my skin blistered and bubbled, the
sweltering air filling my lungs and suffocating me, the flames
consuming me. But I didn’t actually burn into ash. No, that
would bring relief, and, it appeared, I would never have relief
again. I’d live in the fire for eternity.

Except I didn’t
stop in the fire, either. Whatever dragged me maintained my downward
descent, through the fire, and below it, into a cold so deep, my
bones froze immediately and ice crystals hung in the air as I
continued exhaling the same breath I’d started with in Heaven.

And still, my fall
through Hell continued, making me wonder how many levels existed and
just how far down I’d go. Probably to the bottom.

Perhaps, after all the
deaths I’d caused, the lowest bowel of Hell was exactly where I
belonged.

Just as I began to
think that falling for eternity would
be
my Hell, I slammed
into a hard floor, shattering my frozen bones. The cracks and snaps
echoed in the air, and excruciating pain devoured me. Although I had
no idea how I felt anything physical when my body remained in the
Earthly realm, at least pain made sense here in the deepest, darkest
pits of Hell.

Forever and a day
seemed to pass as I simply lay there, on my side, my cheek pressed
against a floor of solid obsidian ice that stretched out as far as I
could see. I stared ahead into a darkness so black, I had no idea
where it began or ended. The cold eventually went away, though the
ice did not. My pain subsided as well, and I pushed myself halfway
up, bracing myself on my hand.

Nothing surrounded me.
Nothing to see. Nothing to smell. Nothing to feel, hear, or taste.
Absolutely
nothing
.

And a very different
nothing compared to the white, empty space of Heaven’s lobby.
There I could see those who presented themselves and the movement of
the white fog. I could smell and taste the clean, crisp air, and feel
tears on my skin. If anyone stood before me now, they could be a
centimeter from my face and I wouldn’t know it. They could be
breathing on me, and I couldn’t feel it or smell their exhale.

This was a true void.

And apparently my Hell.
This was how I’d spend my eternity—what the
powers-that-be must have deemed as my punishment. I didn’t find
it surprising that my Hell would be one of nothingness. One that
lacked any sense of touch, sight, smell, taste, and sound. After all,
a warrior relies on all of her senses, as does an author. I’d
used them to create beauty and to destroy it. Now I’d forget
what it was ever like to watch a sunset on the beach while inhaling
the sweet scent of my love or to feel the softness of my son’s
cheek. I’d never again hear either of them say “I love
you” and even the echoes of previous times would fade.

“I hate you!”
I yelled at said powers-that-be, my voice falling flat almost as soon
as the words left my mouth. But I spewed more, hatred filling me.
“You were as much at fault as I was. You were supposed to help
me, but You abandoned me! And You allowed it all to happen! It was
Your
will! Now You’ve sent me
here
?”

My passion, my
vehemence, my ability to care anymore slowly died away with
everything else.

I do belong here.

Acceptance of this fate
had come, and much easier than accepting any place in Heaven. I
crossed my legs, pulled the remnants of my broken, charred wings
around me, and sat on the hard, black ice. Immediately, the deafening
silence filled my ears, the blankness in front of me pressed on my
eyes, and the lack of feeling made my muscles twitch as though my
body checked to make sure everything was still there. The pressure of
the void compressed my head, and my brain felt as though it would be
crushed like a watermelon in a vise. Yet, it never would give, but
forever and always would linger right at the point just before
implosion.

Without sensory input,
I went mad.

And it didn’t
take long. Or maybe it had. Loss of all senses also meant loss of the
concept of time. Although I’d arrived here with my memories and
my imagination, they dissolved into the nothingness surrounding me,
my mind becoming just as blank and dark.

I screamed only to hear
the sound of my own voice because at least it was
something
,
but the sound was swallowed by the void. I dug my fingernails into
the flesh of my arms to feel pain because at least it was
something
,
but it dulled quickly and my skin grew numb. My tears tasted like
nothing, and then they stopped falling. My whole being seemed to
teeter on the brink of nonexistence, but never fell over the edge.

And then the voices
started. The screaming in my head. The images that came along, too.
Apparently, I hadn’t lost all memories. My soul hung on to the
worst ones, the nightmares, the pain and grief others had suffered
because of me. I relived every death I’d caused, from the
werewolf I’d killed in Hades to those who’d died in the
bombs on the fateful night that ended the world. If that wasn’t
enough, the voices of Hell’s burning souls cried out for me,
too. They filled every passing moment with grief and
despair—thousands of needles tattooing their agony onto my
heart and coals raking across my soul. I begged and pleaded for the
nothingness to return.

“If you wanted
mercy, you should have stayed in Heaven,” a loud, gravelly
voice thundered around me, and the sound made me jump at first, but
then it sent chills over my skin and down my spine. The malevolent
feeling went all the way to my soul, and I knew instantly this wasn’t
an everyday Demon with a sarcastic tongue.

Satan himself had
spoken to me.

“Please.
Call me Lucifer.” The voice came as less of a boom this time. A
flash of light and color—red or orange maybe, but too quick to
be certain—flickered off to my right. My head automatically
snapped that way, but it was gone before I could be sure I even saw
it. “Satan, Abaddon, Apollyon, Beelzebub, Leviathan, Devil …
The list of names I’ve been known by goes on, some more
terrifying than others.” Another flash, like an orange spark of
fire, this time to my left, and my head whiplashed that way, but only
pitch blackness remained. Like the sound of boulders falling but
ending with a hiss, his words carried across it. “Lucifer,
however, sounds the most civilized and refined, does it not? Less
frightening? After all, it was the name my Father gave me.”

The blackness separated
for a longer moment now, exposing a massive, muscular shoulder, arm,
and part of a torso with red and orange marbled skin. The body moved
just enough for me to catch a glimpse of a head with horns that
curved back and out to the sides and eyes that glowed a
greenish-yellow. Then solid blackness fell once again.

“Don’t get
me wrong,” he continued, his voice circling and surrounding me
at the same time, making it impossible to know where he was.
“Terrorizing souls brings me a great thrill, and the names
Satan and the Devil evoke so much fear. Ah, the smell of such dread!
Like a ripe, wet pussy. It makes my cock so fucking hard.”

Another glimpse—one
that made me recoil. A clawed hand with the same dappled skin and
curling black nails stroked an enormous red and black penis directly
in front of me. I jerked back as bile launched into my throat, and
instinctively shot a bolt of electricity at him. A shudder racked
through him as he thrust hard into his palm before disappearing.

“Oh, yessss! You
know how I like it,” he said with an extra helping of joy, and
laughter crackled around me.

I shivered with
revulsion. It probably wasn’t even real. He probably only
wished he was that big—that he even had a penis. His laughter
died down, followed by heavy breaths. Whether or not it was real, he
was certainly getting off on himself as he mind-fucked me. Heh.
Disgusting
. But could I expect any better from Satan, the king
of all things sinful, including lust and depravity?

“I apologize,
Alexis. Sometimes I cannot help myself, especially with an Amadis
daughter in my presence. Ahhh. I’ve been waiting for this day
and began to wonder if any of them would have the intelligence to see
that my way is best. I had nearly given up hope, but then you came
along. Fiercely protective of all the wrong things—according to
them, anyway. I, however, appreciate your selfishness—”
he groaned and grunted “—your passion to protect your own
interests—” a lustful sigh “—and your
willingness to
kill
as long as it serves your needs.” A
sensual moan turned my stomach. “Yet you hold on to just enough
of those repellent qualities of love, empathy, and generosity that
the thought of
breaking
you makes me want to come. Almost
there,” he groaned. “Yessss. You’re so sssssweet
and tantalizing. Deliciousssss.”

As though his tongue
had actually slid up the side of my face, the serpentine hiss made me
shudder, and the gurgling noise of release that followed made my
stomach lurch. He fell quiet and dark for so long, I hoped he had
left, but his presence was so heavy and commanding, I knew he was
still somewhere nearby. Whether he expected me to say anything or
not, I remained silent. Besides the fact that I had no desire to
encourage him, I was afraid vomit would shoot out of my mouth if I so
much as opened it. When he finally spoke again, his voice changed
significantly.

“Oh, dear,”
he said, and now the longer he spoke, the less monstrous and more
human he sounded. “I’m afraid I’ve gone and
offended you. I am very sorry, Alexis. I’d so wanted to start
off on the right foot.” A hoof and a leg shaped like an ox’s,
but with the same skin tone as the rest of him, appeared briefly
before hiding behind the blackness again. Deep laughter ensued.
“Pardon my humor. Maybe this is better?”

Before me, a bright
light shone, and I had to blink and squint against the sudden
brilliance in the thorough blackness. As my eyes adjusted, the full
body of a striking man with white-blond hair and cerulean blue eyes,
broad shoulders, and wearing a black suit with a thin, red tie came
into focus, looking as though a spotlight illuminated him, but from
within. Although his coloring was like Lucas’s, Victor’s,
and, I assumed, other descendants of Jordan, their attractiveness
paled in comparison. He was breathtakingly beautiful.

But still a far cry
from Tristan.

The sound of a deep
growl rumbled around me.

“I
was
the
most beautiful of them all,” Satan said, his voice a
mesmerizing song that I wanted to ignore, but could not possibly.
“Still am, in any of my forms, if you ask me.”

The beautiful man
disappeared, replaced by the horned beast with red and orange skin,
glowing eyes, a tail with a barbed end, and huge wings with claws on
their tips. Like hot coals, his skin lit up, glowing in the colors of
flames, and I lifted my arm to shield my eyes from the glare, so much
more intense than before. Darkness instantly surrounded me, but when
I lowered my arm, the attractive man stood before me.

“I will hold this
form for you.” He sounded as though he were doing me a great
favor. “I don’t particularly like it. It’s quite
uncomfortable, but my comfort matters not. I’m more concerned
about yours.”

I dropped my arm
completely, my hand landing in my lap, and stared at him. My throat
felt thick and dry, but I managed to form together a few words,
because now he made no sense.

“You just said
I’d receive no mercy here, but you’re concerned about my
comfort?”

“See there? It’s
easier to speak to me when I’m like this, isn’t it? That
is all I want. A conversation. And I am happy to make you comfortable
enough for that.”

I hesitated, knowing
that by asking, I’d be entering into exactly what he wanted,
and what Satan wanted was probably not a good thing for me to
deliver. But bewildered and unable to help myself, I asked
nonetheless. “A conversation? What on Earth about?”

“No, not on
Earth. In Hell.”

I blinked. Was that
supposed to be a joke? He had the oddest sense of humor. “Okay.
What in
Hell
do you want to talk to me about?”

“About this—your
comforts, your needs and desires. I assume you don’t like my
home as it is, do you? The ice and the cold? I always laugh when
humans talk about Hell freezing over. Guess what? It already has!”
He let out a deep laugh that sounded more like his beastly self than
this gentleman-like version, and then he quieted as he stroked his
chin. “You do know I could provide you with every creature
comfort of the world you used to know … and more. Right?”

A maroon,
velvet-covered wingback chair suddenly appeared with him sitting in
it, his legs crossed and a cigar between his perfectly shaped lips.
The tip glowed as he puffed, and with long, elegant fingers, he
flicked the ash into an ashtray that sat on a dark, polished wood
table next to the chair. He flicked his hand, and a whole sitting
room appeared with me propped on a cushy settee, beautiful paintings
hanging on the luxuriously covered walls, and a fire crackling in the
oversized hearth. A grand piano sat in the corner.