Embracing Eternity

Embracing Eternity

Voirey Linger

Book three in the Heavenly Lovers series.

Evangelos has loved Philomela since before time began. He’s dreamed of having her in his arms and his bed. But she never once looked his way. Instead, she chose a Fall that transformed her into a monstrous creature. He never forgot the one he loved, and he’s determined to bring her back home.

Cut off from the power that fed them, Meela and the other Fallen angels became demons, thriving on vice and preying on Creation. Hell holds too much pain and Meela wants nothing more than to give in to the temptation Evan offers. But a demon has no place in the arms of an angel.

Meela knows Evan’s determination to save her will be his downfall, because Lucifer wants to feast on the power of angels, and she’s the perfect bait.

Embracing Eternity

Voirey Linger

Dedication

This book is dedicated to cover model Ruben Angelo Riguero-Brito who was killed September 30, 2012. Goodbye and Godspeed.

Acknowledgments

Big huge hugs to my Rats. You gals are the best.

Special thanks to Marguerite Labbe. You rock, babe. Sidney Bristol, thanks for showing me where my messes are. And Inez Kelley, for bringing the world angel farts, wing woodies, angel bugs and wing kink. I may be damaged for life, but it hurt so good.

And especially to Grace for being so understanding and patient when life was running me over.

Glossary

Angel of Annunciation
: One of the three classes of angels. They are messengers and legalists. Gabriel is the Archangel of Annunciation.

Archdemon
: Highest rank of demon. All archdemons were angels before Hell was created and they Fell.

Cherub,
p. Cherubim
: A female angel.

Corporeal
: Having physical form and mass. An angel or demon can choose to be noncorporeal, to mask their presence by removing their physical mass and existing on a spiritual level.

Divine Law or The Law
: A set of rules put into place by the Most High to protect the Realms from evil. Over time many Laws have been forgotten or misinterpreted.

Free will
: The inherent freedom for any rational being to make his or her own decision. Demons do not respect free will and will cloud one’s thoughts to influence choices. In the end, however, the individual must choose their own actions.

Guardian Angel
:
A protector. Guardians defend Creation against demons, and provide guidance in morally and physically dangerous situations. One of the three classes of angels. Raphael is the Archangel of Guardians.

Host
:
Collective term for a group of angels.

Judgment
: The Most High’s ultimate ruling on the Law. There is no appeal from His final decree.

Lesser Demon
: A demon created from latent evil within Hell. Also called lesser, ghouls and imps. These creatures are unintelligent and will steal power from any creature they can, including Archdemons.

Power
: A form of pure energy. It originates from the Most High and trickles down through life on Earth. Power feeds infinite beings and may be used to mask their presence, disguise their appearance, affect objects in the physical world and heal injuries. It may also be used as both weapon and defense in battle. Demons are cut off from the Most High and must steal power.

Seraph, p. Seraphim
: A male angel.

Warrior Angel
:
Class of angels that acts as a Heavenly army, fighting to defend Creation against demon attack. Michael is the Archangel of Warriors.

Welkin
: Old English term meaning
Vault of Heaven
. This is where the souls of those who have died exist on the Heavenly Plane.

Chapter One

Meela pulled her claws from the tunnel wall and tried quelling her trepidation. But the rotten sulfuric stench and the terrified growls and squeaks of the basest of Hell’s inhabitants made that an exercise in futility.

Hell thrived on futility.

Despair hung in the air as surely as the miasma of sin permeated everything and everyone within Lucifer’s domain.

“Meela!”

The booming call sent coal-skinned lesser demons and ghouls scurrying along the dirt floors of the tunnels. They melted in the shadows, shunning the flickering light of hellfire in their search for cover. They’d find it, too.
They
weren’t the ones being summoned by Lucifer.

Lucky little bastards.

Another summons, this one accompanied by the angry rumble of soil underfoot, had her cringing and pressing back into the earthen wall. She’d better move. The only thing that would make him madder than her failures would be trying to hide from him. That would be a stupid thing to attempt.

There was no hiding from the Devil.

Her feet felt rooted and she had to force herself to move. One foot in front of the other. One small step at a time.

She progressed toward Lucifer’s chamber at a snail’s pace, unable to make herself go any faster. Wings quivering, she navigated the dirt-cavern intestines of the underworld. Too quickly for her tastes, but to him there was no such thing as fast enough. Punishment had been guaranteed from the moment he’d called her name.

Meela paused before taking the final step into his throne room.

Lucifer’s court of glory was nothing more than a pit dug into the soil. Dirt surrounded her on all sides and the orange glow of hellfire lit the chamber. Archdemons and lessers lined the walls, as if they didn’t want to venture too close to the presence of their Master, and their bodies threw eerie shadows across the floors.

Lucifer sat on his throne of skulls. Some of the bones still held remnants of flesh and soul which whimpered and cried for mercy. His scaly black skin absorbed the flickering orange light of the hellfire and the air around him seemed to wail with misery.

“You summoned?” she asked, tipping her chin up.
Show no fear. Don’t let him see you cower.
Cowering only made things worse.

“Aye. And you dawdled.” His voice rolled through the chamber, rumbling like an earthquake.

Meela didn’t bother to deny it. Why hurry when his displeasure was already guaranteed? She didn’t want to be here, in his presence, in this room or in this Realm of the Damned.

She never should have left Heaven.

A mistake. It was all a big mistake. One that had ripped her existence to shreds and left her subject to this monstrosity.

“Come stand before me, demoness.”

Demoness
. The very word made her stomach clench with revulsion. It was vile. Just like her.

His fault. It was Lucifer’s fault she was this ugly, stained soul. Her once-soft skin was now covered with black serpentine scales and her hair now hung in gnarled ropes.

He’d seduced her into leaving Heaven with promises of beauty and power. He’d promised that she would sit at his right hand and rule beside him.

And she’d believed him.

She stepped before his throne and looked the Devil in the eye.
Fuck you, Lucifer, you lying asshole
.

“You failed me, Meela.” His tone was bland, and yet the resonance of its threat sent a shiver of terror down her spine.

Saying nothing, she folded her wings tight against her back to hide their trembling.

“Thrice you had in your grasp souls which would have fed me well. First the human woman, a pure heart with power enough for a feast, then not one, but
two
angels. I can excuse the loss of a human soul, but angels? That is not so easily overlooked.” He leaned back, the brittle bones of his seat crunching and the spirits within groaning under his weight.

“I brought you Renatus. He fed you well for a time.”

“
For a time
,” he repeated. “And where is that angel now? On Earth, with his human lover. Their union blessed and untouchable, as is Dominicus’. I want an angel to keep, one on whom I can dine for eternity.”

“I did everything in my power—”

“If you had done everything in your power, I would be feasting on angels now,” Lucifer roared. The ground under her feet rolled and a fine layer of dust rained down from the ceiling. He slammed his fist on the arm of his throne, smashing a skull, and a soul slithered free of the crushed bone. As it drifted across the throne room in a silky wisp of smoke, an imp scurried after it, attacking and devouring what little power it held.

“I wasn’t strong enough. My power was gone and I couldn’t hold form,” she argued, unable to keep the tremor from her voice. She’d used everything she had in an attempt to capture an angel for the Master.

And failed.

“You seem to be holding it well enough now.”

She was, but only because she’d sneaked up on a few ratlike imps and drained them. Not that it killed them. Demons, like angels, were infinite. They had no end. There was no relief in death for the residents of Hell, just an eternity of suffering. Two things lesser demons thrived on. They would feed on it and be restored eventually.

“I’m going to give you one more chance, Meela. Bring me an angel, one who has not Fallen, to be an eternal feast. Do this and I will make you my queen. Fail and you will become one of the lost and I will personally see to your torment.”

Meela took a shaky breath. The promise of Queen of Hell had lost all value long ago, but his threat chilled her.

The lost were woven into the walls of Hell. Their misery produced a thick and vile power. Some said they felt a surge, a heady rush from these pitiful souls, but Meela had never gotten such a high. Their energy was useless to her.

Lucifer’s threat, however, had her reconsidering the fate of the damned.

Could he do that, transform her to a human soul? If Lucifer could change her infinite state, he had indeed become more powerful than the Most High, just as he’d claimed he would when he led the Fallen out of Heaven.

If she could be made human, could she die? But the hope of an end to her torment vanished as quickly as it appeared. No matter what, she was still damned and her soul would continue to suffer in Hell. As a demon, she at least had the ability to seek respite in the Earthly Realm.

No, it would not do to displease the Master once more and lose her Earthly sanctuary.

Lucifer stood and Meela couldn’t help but step back, an instinctive retreat.

He had once been one of the most beautiful angels in Heaven, but his beauty, like hers, was gone. He bore no resemblance to the seraph she’d believed she loved. His elegant and lithe body had thickened over the millennia. Muscles now jutted garishly in sharp angles from his hulking seven-foot frame. His soft, golden hair had fallen out in chunks a mere century after banishment and now thick horns curled from his head, adding another foot to his imposing height. Wings that had been sleek ivory feathers now gleamed with blackened expanses of scale and bone.

“Come, Meela.” He beckoned with a wave of his hand. “Just to show my benevolence, I will fortify you for your task.”

The ghouls watching laughed in mindless anticipation, their misshapen faces sporting lecherous grins while their hands went to their sexless crotches.

No. Not this. Not again.

She had to fight to stay in place, force herself not to turn and run. Running was nothing but an invitation to more pain.

She could do this. She’d done it before. Over and over again.

Pleasing him was far better than not pleasing him, so she curled the corners of her mouth upward and hoped it passed as a smile. She took one step, then a second toward Hell’s Prince. He grinned at her, baring his pointed and yellowed teeth in a gruesome display, and she tried to ignore her own revulsion.

It didn’t exist. This place didn’t exist. If she closed her eyes she could be back where she belonged, with the other angels.

Home.

“On your knees, hellbitch. Show these lessers how to pay a proper tribute to your prince.”

Meela bit back a whimper. Obedience was the closest she’d come to magnanimity.

She dropped to her knees in front of Lucifer. As he placed a clawed thumb on her chin and forced her mouth to open, she stared at his scaled stomach and tried to remember what Heaven was like.

* * * * *

The junkie pulled the needle from his vein and stared straight through her, his eyes glazed with the sweet escape of heroin.

Meela couldn’t help but wonder what made the human’s life so miserable that he had to resort to hiding in a drug haze. Pity she couldn’t join him in his oblivion.

No matter. Escape was temporary. He’d come back soon enough. And when he did, she’d be here, waiting to soak up the pain-filled surge of power that withdrawal created. Returning to Earth had brought with it the need to feed, and lost souls like this were an easy meal.

The human was beyond seeing her so she let her body solidify in demon form. The noncorporeal state was handy when leading humans astray, but it took too much effort to maintain.

Effort she couldn’t spare.

Lifting his limp arm, Meela loosened the belt from his biceps and watched the blood well at the injection point. She leaned down and licked it away from his flesh. The drug made his blood bitter, but she couldn’t let the small bit of power it held go to waste.

Power. It fed the souls of all, but the Fallen had to steal its precious life from others. There was no Heavenly food of life for her kind.

She traced the ridges of track marks with her tongue and tried to think about those instead of the filth coating his skin. When withdrawal hit he would be a rich meal for a demon.

Damn Lucifer for putting her in this position. He’d fed her a little, but it wasn’t enough to matter. She’d been sent to Earth still on the verge of starvation, left to feed off lost souls like some kind of parasite.

The power in those drops of human lifeblood was scant but it was enough to allow her to hide her demon form. Creating the illusion of beauty took more energy than she ought to use, but she couldn’t stand looking this way.

She couldn’t stand her own ugliness.

With one last lick, she dropped his arm and willed her true appearance away. Black dreadlocks were acceptable enough, so she didn’t waste her strength on them. The rest had to go. Smooth bronzed skin rippled over her, replacing inky scales with sleek flesh. She couldn’t change her wings so instead she willed them into nothingness.

Well not complete nothingness. They couldn’t be seen and didn’t physically touch anything, but she could still feel the chilly winter air on the unprotected skin. Noncorporeal didn’t mean nonexistent. Too bad because she’d happily cut the fucking things off.

They were disgusting, just skin and bone, too small to actually use. She’d once had beautiful wings. The golden-brown feathers, speckled with white, had been a point of pride for her. Something special in the sea of solid-colored wings.

She missed the warmth of her feathers too. If she had real wings she could pull them around her like a blanket.

Cold was just another indignity the Fallen suffered.

Clothes would help though. Something pretty, something stylish. Humans had such pretty clothes. Jeans and a ruffled white shirt would do nicely. She wiggled her cold toes and added some boots. The clothing offered a small measure of comfort, but she didn’t have enough strength to bring forth a coat.

That would have to come after she’d feasted on her prey.

She found a corner away from the broken windowpane and squatted in the decay to wait.

The noise of the city crept by outside the dilapidated building and still, Meela sat. Soon her victim’s numbness would wear off. His attempt at anesthetizing himself would fail and she could consume the surge of power the physical and mental pain brought.

“Why do you do this?”

Meela jumped to a defensive crouch with a hiss. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking for the intruder.

There, in the corner, the air shimmered with an earthy green and the form of an angel appeared, clad in human jeans and a white t-shirt. Rich brown hair brushed his shoulders and mahogany wings spread behind him.

Shit. Of all the guardians to show up it had to be Evangelos, the worst goody-two-wings in all of Heaven. He and his kind were always interfering with her prey, sending the humans to safety and depriving her of her meals.

“The hunt amuses me.” She tried to force her tense muscles to relax and reclaimed her seat before the last of the retained heat vanished. As far as angels went, Evan wasn’t exactly dangerous. He was more likely to coddle one to insanity than harm him. Warriors posed a much greater threat.

Meela kept a close eye on him, though. Angels and demons were still enemies and it would be unwise to discount what little threat he posed.