Her Black Wings (The Dark Amulet Series Book 1) (6 page)

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Elliott

Elliott couldn’t breathe properly. It wasn’t from the soot, the foul odor, nor even from the broken ribs he sustained while that goat sat on his spine. No, it was because of the hole in his soul left behind by his absent wings. A single tear slid out the corner of his eye, across the bridge of his nose, and onto the dirty ground. The goats dragged him to where he lay now; on his stomach, with his head to the side. Using one eye, he looked at the closed door in front of him. The walls surrounding the wood panel had been scraped as smooth as one could get stone with some type of tool, maybe a hammer and chisel. He brought a hand up to his face. The ends of the nails were bitten down past the tops of his fingers. Grunge caked around the cuticles.

He came to Hell to find a woman not slated for this realm. So far, he’d been tortured, betrayed, beaten, and had his wings removed. Was this what Deus had in mind? He’d instructed him to find her in order to find himself. However, he was no closer to either goal. Christ
.
How could he even call himself an angel anymore?

Elliott rolled onto his back with a brittle groan. He hoped that the dirt and grime beneath him would stave off the trickles of slow bleeding from the wounds on his back. He stared at the ceiling that had been chiseled into a dome. Any dripstones that may have existed had been removed as well. He listened. The quiet was odd, but a welcomed relief amid all the shrill noise beyond the door.

His sensitive hearing picked up a low male sounding moan, perhaps in the next room. Then it stopped. A woman’s scream, in the throes of passion from the sounds of it, reverberated. The screams got louder and louder.

Then it stopped and a door slammed.

Amalya?

He hoped not. His instinct, however, told him a different story.

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

Abaddon

Chains rattled.

Souls moaned.

Aba shivered. Coming to this part of Netherworld always gave even him pause. The section was reserved for the particularly heinous of the Damned. Child molesters were lined up and chained along a wall, their punishment involving dull cutting instruments, made his knees flimsy.

Bypassing the sickos, the ruler of demons went straight for the Void, as in…avoid. A hole, with a sea of hundreds, maybe thousands of naked, shit covered souls piled on top of one another. It was in a state of perpetual flux. They constantly climbed over each other vying for the highest position near the surface. As one soul would reach the peak the whole heap would collapse. Then the jockeying would begin again and was repeated over and over, with no one ever getting out. The whole thing disgusted him.

He’d come for one particular Damned, a just-in-case insurance policy. Peering over the edge, he searched the mass. He covered his nose with a bicep and coughed. The dead souls reeked of putrid body odor and human excrement. His eyes watered. He wasn’t even sure anymore whose idea the pit had been. Maybe it had just happened.

“I seek one of you!” Aba bellowed into the pit. The screaming, hair pulling, and eye gouging paused for a moment.

Souls shouted and raised their hands. “Me, pick me!”

“No, me!”

“You want me! I’ve been here the longest!”

“No you haven’t. Shut up asshole!” A fight broke out.

Aba reached for two souls within arms’ distance. He looked into their eyes.

Nope.

He threw them back in and grabbed another two. After two hours of this he had piles of broken bodies on his left, right, and behind him. Limbs sat at awkward angles. Loose heads with open eyes croaked mutely, mouths opening and closing. And a waning mound still waited inside the hole.

Where is that
fuck-
head?

The Supreme Demon looked up. Over the pit were steel girders, remnants of a crane installation. He just needed something to lower himself with…Aha! A thick chain. He snapped his fingers. Over in the corner lay a length of links with a hook at one end.

He swung the chain over a steel beam. The hook caught. After testing the strength, he lowered himself into the hole head first. To his surprise the bottom couldn’t be detected. Souls began to jump for the end of the chain. Aba easily bashed a successful one into the side by swinging the chain. The soul screamed as he fell. Down. Down. Down.

Souls volunteered themselves to be inspected as “the one.” Aba worked diligently. Eventually his bottled up frustration exploded. The wake of his roar sent many flying down the peak of twisted bodies. Then there was one left standing amid the swarm, fighting against the wind with his hands up protecting his eyes. Aba caught the soul’s wrist and yanked with enough force to break the neck. The Damned was flung up and hurtled through the air. It landed in an awkward way next to the opening of the Void. The body lay on its stomach with the head twisted around facing the ceiling.

The demon lord sprung from below and settled on his feet. The soul looked up out of the corner of an eye. Hours wasted, but Aba finally found who he sought.

He nudged the soul over onto his back with a foot. The head remained face up. “I have a job for you.”

“Who are you?” The snapped neck made the man’s voice sound garbled.

“Who are you to question me? Ask another and I’ll throw you back in and bury you under the rest.” Aba motioned to the piles. The soul looked away. Aba knew he’d faced away because he’d wanted to ask another question, and thought better of it. “I have a job for you and if you please me, I will reward you.”

Aba waited for a question from the immoral bastard, who kept his mouth shut.

Excellent.

Clearly the fool could follow directions.

“Hmmm. Now you may ask a question.”

“Okay. What do you have in mind?”

“Glad you asked.”

There was a sucking noise. A Damned from one of the piles pulled himself out from under the heap, crawling across the floor dragging unnaturally bent legs. The soul wheezed then coughed. The sound was heavy and made Aba think the bastard may be coughing up pudding. The man appeared to be about thirty in human years.

Aba planted a boot in the center of the soul’s back, flattening him to the floor. He’d do
.

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

Amalya

By the time Aba returned, Amalya was asleep. She felt his presence and smiled.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he instructed her.

She obeyed him without a sound. Something cold was laid between her breasts. “Oh! That’s cold.” Curiosity made her open her eyes. A dagger with the blade pointed away from her head rested between her breasts. The hilt had the appearance of being made from a twisted horn. The blade was about the length of her hand. “How is it so cold?”

“I have my ways.” A smug grin spread across his face.

“What’s this for?” She loathed being curious about a weapon.

“A gift. For you, my queen.”

Amalya thought queen had a nice ring to it. Her eyes lit up and she smiled.

“I figured that, but for what?” She fingered one of her nipples. Aba groaned, then ignored what she was doing to herself. She pouted.

“Protection. I’ll teach you how to use it.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know how to use a knife.”

“Yes. But do you know how to kill a demon?”

“Um,
no
.”

“This is a special dagger. The only way to kill a demon is to make him ash. And with this you can.” He went on to explain that you had to make four cuts on the same arm, leg, or back, then one continuous slice intersecting all four. Removing their head and limbs only slowed them down until they healed. Hmmm, did that mean they grew another…head…or did they just stick it back on? Oh God, she didn’t want to know.

“You will let me have you now.” Not a question from Aba, but a demand.

She nodded and spread her thighs. He scooped her under her bottom, flipping her over. She landed clumsily on her knees with her ass in the air, her cheek resting on the fur blanket and her arms down along her sides.

Hands gripped her hips roughly. The tip of his cock bumped against her sex. A thrill ran up Amalya’s spine while she panted. Goosebumps raised on her skin. She was ready for him. He entered her in one smooth stroke. Although she already knew how big he was, his size and girth surprised her. There wasn’t time to get used to him though. She could feel him glide in and out of her pink feminine folds. In. Out. Push. Pull. Their breaths sawed in and out, in time with each other. The pressure between her hips built. It rose higher and higher until she could no longer hold in her orgasm.

“Oh G—” She caught herself. God wasn’t welcome in Netherworld. “Oh, oh, oh…yes. Never stop…never stop what you’re do…ing to me.”

“Amalya!” They climaxed together. He flipped her onto her back and brought her legs up so her calves rested on his shoulders. Her eyes widened and she cried out as he fucked her relentlessly and with power. Her voice grew hoarse; she screamed so much and for so long. Sweat dripped from his brow onto her breasts, joining the growing pool there. Her head jerked from side to side with each forceful thrust. With his fists planted on each side of her head, his hips swung like a hinge.

He sucked in air between his teeth. Veins popped in his neck, down his biceps, and across the span of his muscular chest from the strain. Amalya knew he was getting close again. She wanted him to finish inside her. She got her wish. He erupted, filling her up. The hot seed warmed her from the inside out.

“Oh, Amalya,” he said pushing back from her, sliding out.

She winced. He’d been rougher than she thought.

“Oh, did I hurt you?”

“No…”

“You are lying. Do not lie to me.” He pounded his chest. “I’ll know. I’ll always know.”

The statement made her feel off kilter. A sliver of fear sliced through her body. He would soon know everything. How she felt about him. A fact she intended to hide. She squeezed her eyes shut, struck with an acute urge to apologize.

“Sorry, I—yeah, I’m a bit sore, you could say.”

“This is good,” he said puffing out his chest.

“Good?”

“You should always be sore or I have failed you.”

She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t need to be sore for—”

“Shhh.” Aba put a finger to her lips. “You will heal quickly, so we must do this often.”

“Whatever you command.” She blanched.

What? Why did I just say that?

Never in her life had she surrendered to anyone.

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

Elliott

Screw this!

What was he doing here? Amalya clearly had no interest in leaving this place. Elliott closed his eyes, trying and failing to block out her screaming by putting his hands over his ears.

Deus had to have been kidding him when he’d assigned this impossible task. He wondered why she deserved redemption. Especially now since the devil had poisoned her for sure. Elliott shivered at what lay ahead for her.

Regaining most, but not all, of his strength, he labored to his feet. His back ached from where his wings had been ripped out. Errant strands of long hair got caught in the wounds. He pulled them out, meeting with a slight resistance. He hissed
.
The sting weakened his knees.

“Ow! Dammit!” Breathing in through his nose and out his mouth, he tried walking off the pain but wound up placing his back against one of the more even reddish walls to help ease some of the discomfort. The wall acted as a pressure point, and he moaned.

Elliott couldn’t take much more of this place. Aza’zel had better show up soon. If he even showed up at all. The smell, the constant din of distant shrieking and crying was enough to make him insane. Forget the missing wings; he couldn’t do anything about them now. His priorities lay solely in getting back to Earth’s realm. The lesser demon better show his ugly face and have a plan for getting them out. Elliott’s concern wasn’t about anyone but himself now. Amalya was a lost cause. He didn’t want to feel this way. However, Deus had always told him that he couldn’t help those that wouldn’t help themselves.