Chapter 8

No Return

Only HE can force an Angel to enter Hell. Once a being of the Light has walked within the Halls of the Damned, there is no saving them. The Dark always keeps those who embrace it.

-Devnik-

Her breath went out slowly ... and with it came a whisper.

"So good..."

The words were soft and muffled ... and they were lead-heavy and full of a woman's emotions. The sound of it was utterly foreign to me. I didn't understand it ... not even a sliver.

I drew her closer and softly trailed the pad of my thumb across her temple. The hot tips of her breasts lightly brushed against my stomach. I was about to say something ... most likely words full of vitriol and dark promises ... but she shifted lightly against me, and I knew she slept.

I collapsed us into formless Darkness and pulled our joined embrace through the rock of my underground room. We materialized in the master bedroom. The faint glow of sunset was visible from the windows, but direct daylight never found its way into this room.

Cariel spilled out of my hands and onto the bed like she was boneless. Her red hair fanned out upon my black silk sheets as her head fell to one side. I couldn't help but follow her pale jaw line with my eyes until it ended at her full lips, still moist from our joining.

My gaze wandered further.

Her sex was still slick and red with arousal. She looked strangely wanton as she lay naked upon my bed. Like a creature made for nothing but soft kisses and rough hands.

I had just taken my pleasure, and still she drew me.

But it was not time for that now. The last time I had seen Orias, he had said he would call on me this night. I needed to be kept abreast of the latest news. I needed to know if I was properly baiting the trap.

With a gentle hand, I pulled the sheets out from under the bed at the sides and wrapped them around the sleeping angel. I tucked the silk in underneath her and stepped back. She was swaddled like a babe.

She looked innocent and at peace. Nothing but the glittering collar clutching at her neck suggested that she was anything but a young girl at rest.

The room darkened as the sun's light died on the horizon.

I drew myself up and flexed my magic. Life and power thudded through me. I was full up on this sweet girl's lifeblood, and the strength of it seeped from my skin.

It was time to go out and play.

The night greeted me like an old friend as I made my way down my garden path. Shadows swirled around me, and the air smelled damp and deep and wonderful.

Flowers spiraled out of the ground between old and twisted tree roots. My magic had long ago claimed this place. My garden looked wild and ancient. It was beautiful to me, and I had cultivated its creation carefully.

Beauty is everything after all.

I was picking a violet when I felt him arrive.

The air dropped in temperature, and I felt the wisps of his power sliding through the air. Red sparks flashed briefly before they melded themselves together.

Orias smiled grimly at me and bowed. "Much has happened, Lord Devnikolus," he said formally.

For a moment I was shocked. Orias was wearing the full robes of his station and standard. A black tunic with a golden fringe clung to his slender form. Woven within the fabric was his standard, three stylized stars arranged in a half circle.

I nodded. "Let's do this properly then, Lord Orias."

My magic conjured up some wrought iron garden chairs and a tea table to match. Using the rend in creation that I often grasped my sword from, I pulled up a stoppered vial of blood.

Orias held out his hand for the bottle and I handed it to him. Deep purple liquid sloshed slightly as Orias examined the delicacy.

"Fae blood," Orias said with barely concealed delight. "My favorite."

I inclined my head slightly, waiting for him to say the words.

"Your offer is most acceptable, brother," Orias said.

"Then please," I said warmly, "avail yourself of my hospitality, and my table."

We both sat, having satisfied a ritual as old as evil.

My flesh tingled as I felt ripples of Dark magic emanate from our completed formality.

Orias flicked his fingers and two obsidian goblets appeared. With a lazy hand, he poured the thick purple blood into my cup and handed it to me. Then he filled his own.

We both drank deeply.

Fae blood tastes like old spiced earth and overripe fruit.

I thought of the meal I had just had.

Angelic blood tasted like liquid fire and hot ecstasy.

I knew which one I preferred.

We both put our cups down. Orias smacked his lips. His mouth was stained with the fae's blood. The Demon Prince's face widened into a satisfied smile, and I could see that his teeth were colored purple as well.

"That was potent," Orias said as he gazed up at the sky. "The donor must have at least been an Earth-Tender."

"She was a Tree-Shaper," I said proudly as I poured him another goblet. "And no, I won't tell the story."

"We don't have time anyway, I'm afraid," he said wistfully. "I have to be gone before midnight."

I settled back against the hard metal chair. "Why did we have to do the meeting ritual? Neither of us are in audience. We are not calling on each other's realm of Hell."

"The Light has captured a few Unami in service to Mammon," Orias said offhandedly as he continued to star gaze.

I raised an eyebrow. The Unami were the least powerful of the Greater Dark Entities. Their entire race should be grateful Orias and I were even talking about them at table.

"Why do I care about this? What does this have to do with meeting formally?" I was rapidly losing patience. Despite my great fondness for Orias, it was vastly irritating trying to make sense with an entity that could see the future.

Orias tapped the table, reminding me it would be bad form to lose my temper while acting as a formal host. Smug bastard.

"Mammon has been spending the past fifty years trying to steal some old piece of Chaos-touched gold. The stars haven't told me what these Unami were doing for him specifically, but they've been far too talkative in captivity," Orias said calmly. He paused, his eyes flickering back up to the sky. "In fact, from what I've seen, they've barely even been tortured."

I fiddled with my cup as Orias' gaze remained skyward. I wasn't sure if I would need to wait until he was done.

Orias can only tell the future with his eyes fixed upon the stars. They whisper the currents of the future to him ... and the way he tells it, his power is dangerous ... much like mine is.

There is a great temptation to learn just a little bit more of the future. To watch the sky for but another moment and listen for just the next hour ... or two ... or until the sun comes up. One time, he said he was caught in the sun, and was unable to move as his Dark flesh writhes under the light and his eyes shrivel in their sockets. Orias told me about that happening once. I wondered how many times it had actually happened.

"Get to the point," I said, finally unable to keep my patience.

He sighed, tearing his gaze from the sky. "With the Unami talking about Mammon's plans, the Light has been distracted from your tiny little flareup-wielding Destruction."

I winced. In truth, I probably hadn't been using it enough. Cariel had served as too sweet a distraction.

Orias noticed. "Don't fret, my friend. I've brought something for you to practice on. I'll give it to you before I leave."

I nodded. "Thank you."

"So, I decided that to regain some of the Light's attention, we would give the Unami something new to talk about." Orias smiled.

Then I understood.

The Dark meeting ritual between two Princes of Hell contained pervasive and wide-reaching magic. Every being that belonged to the Dark would feel the nature of Dark magic bend and shift as a result of the ritual.

Every being of the Dark would know that Lord Orias, Prince of Prophecy, Stars, and Change, had just called upon Lord Devnikolus, Prince of Destruction, Undoing, and Fire.

The fact that this meeting occurred formally in the mortal world would be doubly interesting. Normally, these meetings took place in the deepest reaches of Hell, within a Prince's stronghold.

I let out a breath. "Will these Unami be able to sense where the meeting took place as well?"

To my eyes, Orias had to visibly brace himself, to resist the urge to check the stars. "I believe so," he said. "In fact, I believe that at this very moment they are about to offer up news of our meeting to our captors."

"Mammon should use better slaves." I poured myself another cup of blood. "I will be speaking with him about this next time I see him."

Orias shrugged. "He has grown bold in the past two centuries. Lilith and Baal did much to temper some of his actions in ages past ... but Lilith has not left her stronghold in a century, and Baal has been emulating you recently ... spending much time amongst the mortals."

"Perhaps I should take a turn scolding Mammon," I said darkly.

Orias held up a hand. "Let us forget about Mammon's negligence for now ... His actions can be rectified, and we have even turned them to our advantage."

I allowed the matter to drop, but I knew the Prince of Greed and I would be having words.

My flowers swayed slightly as the wind picked up around us. Clouds moving from the north swept in front of the moon.

The vial of blood was empty, and Orias sighed.

"I'll have to be going," he said slowly. "But first, I need to tell you what to expect. The Light is going to be coming at you from two sides. One you might suspect, but the other comes treading from the fogs of the past. I'll tell you what to do and hope that the currents I have seen hold their course."

I nodded, attending to his words.

Orias continued. "Tonight, there are things you must do..."

-Cariel-

Warm silk and the smell of crushed roses greeted me as I returned to consciousness.

I turned over, and the liquid soft sheets moved with me. Never could I remember feeling so warm and content. My body felt heavy and languid.

It was a curious sensation, as if the echo of some great pleasure had followed me through sleep and had woken with me.

What could have caused this? I wondered as I stretched and flexed my toes. Who replaced my sheets? And refurbished my chamber? This didn't look like my cloister in the Northern Second Sphere...

Suddenly, memories poured into my mind, and I jerked violently.

Devnikolus filled my mind's eye completely, his smile both cruel and caring as he lowered his mouth to my throat.

I remembered the sharp pain as his teeth sunk into my neck. I remembered how that pain had given way to the most glorious body-thrumming, mind-enslaving, all-consuming ecstasy.

A tiny spark of arousal jumped in my sex at the mere memory.

The bed felt no less soft, my flesh no less sated, but everything was different nonetheless. I hugged myself, trying to find solace in my own embrace.

I was losing my mind.

When will I need him to bite me again? I thought bitterly. Will I need it in a week? Three days? Every day?

I closed my eyes. The need wasn't on me now. But I had heard stories. I had seen better angels than me ... mad with the addiction.

There was no turning back now. I had given myself to him last night ... and in the thrall of the demon's seductions, I had done it gladly. But now, away from the distracting sex, I had to acclimatize to what that truly meant.

There would be no return.

A dark road had opened its wide maw in front of me. I was staring down an eternal path of slavery, ridden with sex and with evil.

How long would it be until I didn't recognize myself?

Eventually, I could stay abed no longer. My thoughts continued to spiral down into depression, and I decided there was nothing to do but face my future.

Noises from far off rang from somewhere within the mansion.

I guess I should present myself to my new Master, like a good little slave girl, I thought with cold anger.

I had no clothes of my own. When I opened the towering wardrobe, I discovered that there was nothing in there but the demon's impossibly large human attire.

He's never given me clothes before, I thought. Perhaps a creature of my lowly status was to be kept naked ... for easy access to all the intimate bits that clothes were supposed to protect.

Whether they be demon or divine ... men are all the same.

I descended the stairs gracefully, mindful that a harsh step would set my breasts swaying.

The entrance hall was empty, as were the kitchen and sitting room. The door to what I assumed was the library was locked, and I didn't think that forcing it would get me into the demon's good graces.

I didn't bother looking in the servant's wing.

The only place I hadn't checked was the mansion grounds. My hand hesitated as I reached to open the grand front door. Going outside might make my collar think I was trying to escape.

I gritted my teeth and pushed my way out into the waiting midnight.

There was no resistance from my collar. The grounds were very dark, and I blinked twice ... trying to get my eyes to adjust. I heard voices in the distance, Devnikolus' deep timbre among them.