Hellsbane Hereafter (6 page)

“Emma Jane, you test my last ounce of restraint. Please…”

I flicked my gaze up to his, saw the raw need in his eyes, and opened my mouth on him. His lips parted in silent awe, watching all of his smooth, hard length slip into me.

His skin was sweet like honey on my tongue, the ridges of his veins a tantalizing caress. It wasn’t the first time I’d shown him how many ways we could use our bodies to please each other, but it was all so new to Eli. Like a teenage boy full of energy and excitement, every time was still a soul-quaking occurrence.

Despite his inexperience, Eli had full command of his angelic power and a nearly unshakable amount of control. His power alone could leave me with little more than a stupid grin on a quivering lump of flesh whenever he wanted.

However, Eli never relied solely on his angelic power. He enjoyed using his body, loved the way we fit together, and too quickly, he took control. He lifted me, moved me back onto the bed, and shrugged out of his dress shirt, which vanished like the rest of his clothing the moment it appeared to separate from his body. He removed my bra and panties, kissing and nipping and loving every inch of me.

His body covered mine, the weight of him both a restraint and a comfort. My body liquefied, my heart thumping hard and fast. Our eyes met, and I licked my lips, wanting his kiss, needing it. His hand caressed down my side, smoothing over my hip to the back of my thigh. He lifted my leg, nestling himself at the center of my body. The velvet head of his sex nudged at my entrance, its teasing promise catching my breath. He leaned in, finally taking my mouth in a hungry kiss, just as he pushed into me.

I gasped, but it was Eli that I inhaled into my lungs, his sweet, summery scent, his honey taste, his powerful passion. His thick shaft pushed and stretched my body, his gentle insistence forcing my muscles to mold to him. Like the perfect fit of a soft leather glove, we clung to each other, his sex stroking inside me, building toward an undeniable release with each rock of his hips.

Too soon a wordless cry tore through me, heat flooding over my skin, tingling in my veins and pooling deliciously at my core. Boneless, drifting on a rolling sea of pleasure, I could close my eyes and give in to the sated call of my body. But Eli’s oh-so-male body powered into me again, and my need was awakened all over.

It was full night before he climaxed, after I’d gone three times myself, and he conceded my whimpers of exhaustion. He snuggled naked behind me, the muscles in my legs trembling, my heart a galloping thunder in my chest. A sheen of sweat covered me, and the fading waves of my orgasms still rolled through my body.

“I love you, Emma Jane,” he whispered into my hair, then pressed a kiss to the back of my shoulder. “I couldn’t bear this life without you.”

My heart squeezed, and tears stung my eyes. I loved that he loved me, but it had cost him so much. Because of me, everyone he’d ever loved had turned their backs on him. Without me, he would be utterly alone. The followers of Jukar were all hurting just like Eli, too damaged to form the strong bond between them like the one they’d lost. Their connection wasn’t the same. It wasn’t enough.

I’d come to realize how desperately angels needed the emotional connection of their brothers. They were a part of each other, like pieces in a giant puzzle. When one was lost, his presence could never be replaced; like a gaping wound, his absence ached in their hearts forever. And thanks to me, Eli had lost them all. He suffered that pain a hundred thousand times over.

How could I ever fill that void for him? Humans weren’t made that way. He was everything for me, one man, one woman, my other half. He’d never admit it, but I knew I couldn’t be that missing half for him. I could ease the pain, help him push the heartache to the back of his mind. But could I ever really fill the vast emptiness in his spirit where his brothers had lived? I didn’t know. And I was terrified of what he would turn into if I couldn’t.

I had to fix what I’d done.

I snuggled closer into the spoon of his body, his arms hugging me tight. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my guilt and sorrow to stop churning through my mind.

“Love you, too.” I made a secret vow to do whatever it took to make Eli whole again. Like Tommy had said, it was time to do something.

Michael
. The archangel’s name filled my mind, and I focused to send my thoughts directly to him and no one else.
Michael, we need to talk.

I glanced at Eli, double-checking he couldn’t hear. He didn’t. As a seraph, Eli never needed sleep. Since his fall, he still insisted his body didn’t require it, but sleep seemed to come easier for him now. He’d always enjoyed lying with me as I slept, but it had only been since his fall that he’d begun to dream, and it was the promise of dreams that drew him into the nightly ritual.

…

Hours later, an image flashed blindingly bright in my mind, jarring me awake. I opened my eyes, the memory of the towering glass façade of PPG Place in downtown Pittsburgh still vivid in my mind. I craned my head over my shoulder. Eli breathed deeply and steadily behind me, his arm limp around my waist. I scooted from his embrace, trying hard not to rock the bed, not to creak the bedsprings. I tucked the blanket around him, capturing what little of my body heat that remained. I got to my feet just as Eli shifted, taking advantage of the empty space I’d left, hugging pillows close to his chest without waking.

Last summer when Eli fell and my world crumbled, Michael had made an offer. He’d promised if I gave him the skinny on camp Jukar, he’d take Eli back into the fold. With one condition, of course: I couldn’t tell Eli, or anyone else, for that matter. For months I’d hoped I could find another way. I hated the thought of lying to Eli. I wasn’t sure I could. I knew differently now. I didn’t have a choice.

I checked the time, three a.m., snagged my sword and sheath from the floor, and snuck across the room to the dresser. My jeans drawer squeaked when I opened it. I froze, glancing over my shoulder to check that Eli hadn’t heard. His shoulders rose and fell with each sleeping breath, and I turned back to pull out my black jeans, then a black T-shirt from the drawer above and socks, underwear, and a bra from the smaller top drawers.

I shoved on the clothes on my way out the bedroom door and ran my hands through sex-mussed hair on my way down the stairs. I grabbed my sneakers from under the foyer table and sat on the steps to pull on socks and lace up my shoes.

In late August, warm nights meant I wouldn’t need a jacket, but I grabbed my house keys out of habit. After one last glance up the stairs, imagining Eli deep in his dreams, I turned and placed the image of my destination in the front of my mind.

I called my angelic power and took a step. My vision tunneled, the foyer blurred, blending with the night outside, melting into city streets and streaks of light from neon signs. The blur of metal bridges and dark river water all rushed by in an instant. My weight shifted to my outstretched foot and landed a heartbeat later on the smooth granite squares of the PPG Place courtyard.

I’d grown to prefer traveling at nearly the speed of thought. It was one of the perks of being an illorum. Losing that ability, among others, would suck even if I couldn’t remember ever having it. The likelihood of that, though, seemed about as slim as getting a fallen angel back into Heaven. But I had to try.

Dark glass mirrored from the buildings, made to look like glass castles on all four sides of the big plaza. The normal brick-and-mortar skyscrapers loomed beyond the glass walls of the PPG buildings, but here in the center courtyard, there always seemed to be a trickle of magic in the air.

A forty-four-foot obelisk stood in the middle of the plaza, bathed in celestial blue light, while more than a hundred jets of water pulsed and sprayed in a synchronized dance around the marble-tiled base. Soft orchestral music echoed off the walls, adding a mesmerizing soundtrack to the dancing water.

During the day the plaza would be full of laughing children splashing through the cool jets of water. White umbrellas and matching table sets placed around the plaza provided shady spots for parents to sit. But at three in the morning, the plaza lay in darkness, except for the obelisk and fountain, and the white table-and-chair sets remained empty.

Except for one.

Without missing a beat, I crossed the plaza toward the lone man as he watched the light and water show from beneath one of the big umbrellas. He turned his head toward me as I neared, and from the shadows his eyes flashed a brilliant, glowing white.

My breath caught, heart leaping into my chest for a moment, but then he turned away, gazing back toward the fountain. His dark profile accented the silhouette of his prominent nose and somehow set me at ease.

I knew this man. He was every bit the unearthly power he seemed, but he was also a trusted ally. I stepped beneath the edge of the umbrella and into the shadows. “Hello, Michael. Fancy meeting you here.”

The archangel snorted. “There are precious few souls in Heaven or on Earth who would keep an archangel waiting.”

I made my own sarcastic snort. “Yeah, yeah, so my dad keeps telling me.”

Saint Michael, the archangel, slayer of Satan, slowly swung his gaze to me, his eyes a flash of glowing white before dimming to the deep blue I’d seen when we’d first met last year. The rules were different for seraphim like Michael who were powerful enough to make themselves look any way they liked. “Sit.”

I did. Clearly he didn’t get my sense of humor.
Who knew?

For all his power, for all his renown, the archangel Michael chose to look like an average, twenty-something frat boy. He wore a band tee over gray cargo shorts and fat leather sandals. The snug blue T-shirt clung nicely to his chest, his shorts enhancing his narrow hips and muscled legs. He had a jock-star body, with short brown hair brushed softly to one side over thick brows and a distinctly Romanesque nose. He didn’t look like the biblical warrior, mighty right hand to God. But when it came to some seraphim, especially the Council of Seven who weren’t on the same physical plane as the rest of us, looks seriously didn’t matter. His body wasn’t real. It didn’t house his entire spirit the way Eli’s and the others who fought in the war did. Michael’s presence was more of an illusion, like a window he looked through, and he could make it appear however he wanted. Apparently he liked the frat boy look.
Whatever.

I slid the metal chair closer, resting my hands in my lap, as his power prickled over my skin like ice in a rain storm, though there wasn’t even the hint of a breeze. I’d been near him before without enduring the discomforting sensation. He did it on purpose, punishing me for making him wait for my decision. I’d let him stew for months while I decided if I’d take him up on his offer to play double agent for the Council and come to him with info on Jukar and his flunkies. Eli had fallen almost a year ago, and I’d put off giving Michael my decision as long as I could. If I was honest with myself, I still wasn’t sure. But time was running out.

He’d turned back to stare at the fountain, and I looked over to see what held such fascination. The blue light illuminating the obelisk had turned violet, and just as I turned to stare, it faded to red. Smaller spotlights lit the water jets from beneath, shining up through the shooting streams until it bubbled over and fell back to the granite, pattering with loud plops.

I waved a finger at the fountains. “I thought they turned those off at night.”

“They do. I like them better on.”
Welcome to the world of angels.
Part of the reason Michael and the other Council members only looked through windows at Earth was because that’s the closest they needed to be. Their power could reach through those windows and swat me down just as easily as they could standing next to me.
Nice thought.
“What did you discover?”

As far as I knew, my deal with Michael was the only way to get a fallen angel back into Heaven. Of course, earning forgiveness for Eli’s sin of sharing his love and body with me would mean we’d probably never see each other again. But I was desperate. He needed his brothers. Every minute he spent without that connection changed him, making him more like a Fallen: emotional, quick to anger, paranoid, and jealous.

It was like all the petty emotions of humans that hadn’t been able to touch him before were sinking in, poisoning him, changing him. It wasn’t Eli. It wasn’t the man I’d fallen in love with. I couldn’t protect him from the effects of humanity, but I wouldn’t be the reason he suffered. Not anymore.

I sighed.
Right. No small talk.
“Well to begin with, I’m not the only one.”

His brows shot up. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not an only child. Jukar has a son.” I knew the risk I took with the kid’s life. Jukar feared the seraphim would kill his son just for existing, just for what he might do one day. I bet I could make them a better offer. I bet the seraphim would rather have him on their side than dead.

“Does it have your abilities?”

“
He
.” I hated when seraphim referred to an illorum as “it,” as a thing.

Michael huffed, clearly bothered by the interruption. “Does
he
possess your abilities?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know. I haven’t met him, but Jukar wants me to look out for him, protect him. He says the kid doesn’t even know he’s nephilim.”

The angel nodded with a passive sniff. “What else?”

“What else?” I scoffed. “Isn’t that enough?”

Confusion creased his face. “Enough for what?”