Tempted

Tempted

Enlightenment Series

Part I

By Katrina Liss

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014
©
K.M.Liss

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©
XSEX Books

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Reserved.

This
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Disclaimer: This novel is a work of fiction. The names,
characters and incidents portrayed in it, while at times based on
real figures, are purely the work of the author’s
imagination.

Thanks & Acknowledgements

Love and thanks to my family and
friends, for believing in me and encouraging me to write my little
heart out.

Dr Sex Series

Move Me

Layers of Sin

Enlightenment

Two new series coming soon

Games of Mastery

Delusional

2015

Full book list
at the end of this book

White winged – Bright eyed - Full bodied and
male.

The taker of women.

A high Duke of the Underworld. A warlord
ruling 37 legions of dark spirits.

He can manipulate time. He can set foes
blindly against one another.

Formidable, cunning and subtly evil, he
bestows his gifts kindly, with smiling congenial eyes.

The most feared demon of them all - Bael's
champion - All knowing, ancient, and wise.

The darkest duke to walk the earth.

Uvall's ears absorbed the message hungrily
and his whole body reverberated with the calling. Although he had
summoned the brethren silently, Lord Bael was not subtle in his
invitation. But this meeting was worthy of such a forceful and
rousing reveille.

This was to be an audience like no
other.

He collected his wits and
dragged his body out of its slumber. With a long and uncomfortable
yawn, which almost unhinged his jaw, he arose from the stone slab
in his bed chamber. His limbs protested loudly as he took his first
faltering steps for many a day. Automatically stretching his white
wings to their fullest extent, he flapped them back and forth,
grimacing in pain as the blood forced its way through his
constricted vessels, returning life to his extremities. A flurry of
loosened feathers fluttered through the air like snow. The ash
around his feet rose
—
disturbed by the vacuum he had created
—
sweeping upwards in a choking, smothering
cloud. It stung his nostrils and cloyed the back of his throat
unpleasantly until he sneezed and coughed, expelling the disgusting
sulfurous stench. He shuddered. He would never become accustomed to
the taste and smell of brimstone ash if he lived in Hell a hundred
millennia.

He needed to dress. Clothing was not worn in
the caverns, but a meeting with Bael, his Lord, demanded it.

Reaching toward his small collection of
possessions on the table to his side, he picked up his heavy, black
velvet hip-cloth and wrapped it around his lean naked loins,
fastening it with its solid gold buckle, so it sat comfortably low.
His long taloned finger brushed his embossed gold insignia. It was
his emblem, and one he wore with pride.

He turned and observed himself in his
discolored vanity glass. After plucking a stray white feather from
his head, he ran his fingers through the long, dark, fall of his
hair. Despite his age he had the appearance of young male athlete.
And his body and exceptionally handsome visage were set in stone.
Never changing. His bared his teeth, so white and perfect, and then
he smiled at himself. His appearance only ever attracted the right
kind of interest. Intense female interest. His body served him well
in that respect. Very well.

He took a few paces to his left.

For a moment he stood idly, his
hands braced against the arched doorway, taking stock of his cavern
beyond
―
the darkened abyss to which he was bound.
It stretched
endlessly before him, in all directions. A sea of red and black,
lit here and there by torches positioned around the stairways and
open areas. The heat in the caverns was oppressive -
way
beyond human
endurance - but bearable for a demon and his brethren. A tiny imp
passed him by, in a world of his own, suddenly catching sight of
his master in the doorway. Uvall smiled as the little creature
started and bowed his hairless red head, scurrying off on all
fours, his long tail twitching behind him. His eyes swept the
activity in the cavern. The constant movement of imps and the
legion as they went about their day.

Much the same as
usual.

But that was to be expected.

His head titled upwards and he watched the
descent. The lifeblood of Hell. The source from which everything
grew. The material of their legion and the fabric of their society
came from this never ending supply of corrupt souls.

The damned were dripping steadily, like
human rain, through the reddened Ethos of Reality, the space
betwixt the realities and the Underworld. His eyes followed
through, to their destination below.

Millions of lost souls swirled in the vast
pool of flame in the center of the cavern. Their searing misery was
all that they had left to ponder of their wretched existence.

A group of his lesser-minded legion gathered
at the edge of the inferno, snickering loudly as they tortured the
unfortunate few with sharp pikes, merely because they had the power
to do so.

He snorted with a mixture of disgust and
bewilderment.

Little things please little minds, and
unfortunately there are many small minded in my charge.

He had never understood the torturing of the
pathetic souls who had fallen from grace. It was like plucking the
wings from a half dead butterfly, which lay helpless on the ground.
Pointless and unfulfilling. A pastime only to be indulged in, by
those with very little imagination.

Uvall shifted his stance, leaning on his arm
against the stone doorpost. He had higher interests filling his
thoughts. He imagined the pleasures open to his brethren after
their coming.

This underworld was nothing more than his
prison. The shackles of heat, despair, and pain. It was Hell in
every sense of the word. Devoid of beauty and of pleasure. The
upper echelons were much better. Cooler, more luxurious and quiet.
But Hell wasn't a place of comfort. It was unfortunate he was bound
to live in it for all eternity. Unlike the creatures swarming the
caverns, Uvall was a man of taste. He liked the finer things in
life. And there was nothing fine in the depths of Hell.

He left his cell doorway and walked to the
adjacent stair, descending, and crossing the busy space before the
fiery pool. “Out of the way, you fools,” he boomed.

The imps in his path received a kick of his
foot if their departure was not swift enough, and they yelped and
scurried away. He stood on the side of the pit, the heat of the
fire scorching his skin, casting his razor-sharp blue eyes around
the edge, until he found his first lieutenant.

Ah, there he was.

He smiled to himself.
The little demon
was idly swinging his legs, toasting them, just inches above the
pool, the flames licking at his ankles. Xonil possessed an
extraordinary ability to withstand extreme heat. Uvall was sure he
could take a bath in the fiery pool, and survive the ordeal
unscathed, if he chose.

“
Xonil, our Lord has spoken.
It's soon time to rise,” Uvall called out to him. “Awaken the
Legatus, ask them to dress and lead them to Infamy, and quickly.”
He raised his voice loudly, so as to be heard above the incessant
hum of the agonized moaning, a few feet below. Xonil stood and
bowed his head in greeting.

“
Yes, Master, right away,” he
answered loudly.

Uvall turned and stalked off on his muscular
legs, to await his Lord's instruction in the unhallowed Hall of
Infamy.

As he made his way up the wide stone-stepped
channel to the upper echelons, his mind focused itself. If he
hadn't misread the importance of this meeting in Bael's tone, he
could be on the upper surface very soon.

Maybe as soon as tomorrow?

He craved some excitement. A visit to the
realities would be more than welcome. It had been quite a while
since he'd set foot on the surface. Bael did not allow too frequent
visits. He kept Hell inside Hell where he could control it
properly.

The human world tempted him
with its unique pleasures. He wanted to taste food in his mouth
again and drink raw whiskey
―
to indulge in a spot of gambling, perhaps
―
and of course,
women. How he loved human women. He'd have his fill of all of that
when he could spare himself from his duties.

And perhaps during my duties as well.

He chuckled happily.

It was one of the benefits of rank. Being
able to do as he pleased. And, of course, he held very high
rank.

He was one of the fifty nobles of the
Underworld. One of the six cavern ruling dukes, alongside Vepar,
Shax, Biffrons, Stolas and Naberius.

And even more importantly, he was but one
small step away, from being third in line to the throne of the
Underworld, preceded only by the two dark princes, Mammon and
Lucifer.

It seemed the time had arrived at last. How
long they had awaited this fine moment. Uvall was more than ready
to sweep the earth in the first phase of its enlightenment. There
had been many battles for power in the realities before. Many times
he had been called to action on behalf of his Lord. But they were
minor disputes compared to this day. This was a new dawn, a new
age, and soon it would be a new world.