Chapter 8
SIMONE
The sound of gently trickling water wakes me up from disturbing dreams. An angel came and flew me out of Hell on wings of silky indigo feathers. The smell of orchids drifts through the air, a welcome change from dust and ash and sulfur.
Did an angel actually take me to Heaven? I thought Maalik said our kind aren’t welcome there. But maybe they thought I suffered enough?
When I open my eyes, I’m disappointed to find a mostly bare rocky ceiling above me. It’s a pale gray stone with climbing vines and various white blooming flowers. I turn toward the sounds of water and find a gently steaming stream winding through the cave with more flowers growing around it.
Where am I? How did I get here?
As I sit up, my stomach cramps, and I double over. How long has it been since I last ate? I remember my granola bars, then the imp and the burn on my cheek. Hesitantly, I touch it and find it smeared with some kind of ointment. Did someone help me?
Taking stock of the rest of my body, I see I’m still in my leather armor. I exhale in relief—no one undressed me while I was unconscious. I realize I’m lying in a very plush, round bed, surrounded by colorful pillows in jewel colors. And on a low table next to it, a feast is spread.
My mouth waters as I take in plates of cold cuts, slices of various artisan breads, and an assortment of creamy spreads. There are also layered trays full of macarons—my absolute favorite dessert.
I only hesitate a moment, wondering if the spread before me is too good to be true.
But between my cramping stomach and shaky limbs, I figure I’m not going to survive long without eating.
With shaking hands, I pour myself a glass of lemonade, eagerly gulping it down.
Then I attack the meats and cheeses, finishing it all off with every last macaron.
Too late, I think to pace myself—what if this is all the food I’m going to get for who knows how long?
I should pack whatever’s left, find out where I am, then get back to my teammates in Abaddon.
With that in mind, I slide off the bed and start exploring the cave. Everything is illuminated by torches and shafts of light coming from high above. It’s odd to find pieces of furniture in a cave, isn’t it? Like they fell out of the sky and landed here.
I crouch next to the water, debating if I should dip my fingers inside. What if it’s like the Lethe and I lose my memories? I’m already fuzzy on so many things right now. Though, of course, some parts of my life I could do with forgetting. In the end, I decide not to risk it.
Following the cave wall, I find what looks like the exit—a dark corridor that seems to lead away from here. So I’ll need one of the torches, as well as food and drinks. I walk to the nearest torch and try to lift it from its holder. My hand goes right through it.
“What the…”
I try again with the same result. It’s like an illusion! I don’t feel any warmth coming from it either, though the ground and stream are warm enough to make the cave a comfortable temperature. Are all the torches ghosts?
I walk from one to another, desperately testing them all. None of them are real. How is this possible? The Fallen have been trying to teach us a lot of things, but manifesting illusions? We’re all probably hundreds, if not thousands, of years away from being able to do anything like it.
How am I going to see where I’m going? I’m nowhere near being able to summon fire—maybe just a spark, and the attempts drain me. I guess I’ll have to hope more of the cave is lit up by cracks from above. Heck, maybe the exit is just around the corner.
Determined, I wrap what’s left of the food in napkins, then stuff it in my empty backpack. I check my hidden pockets for weapons, horrified to find them all gone.
“What was I doing?” I ask myself, my voice echoing back at me. Was I fighting and have no memory of it? Or did I somehow get robbed? Maybe whoever brought me here took them. “How am I going to get back to Purgatory without my weapons?”
“You won’t,” a calm male voice replies, seemingly coming from everywhere.
I startle, dropping the backpack onto the stone floor.
The disembodied entity clicks his tongue. “What a waste of good food.”
“Show yourself,” I demand, my voice shaky and uncertain. I’m not sure that I want him to show himself. What if it’s some enormous demonic minion, like a behemoth? What am I meant to do, especially with no weapons?
To my surprise, an incredibly handsome man steps out of the darkness I was just about to brave, his hands resting loosely in the pockets of his black slacks. His brown hair is a couple of shades darker than mine, and his eyes are more green than gray.
“W-who are you?” I stammer, automatically taking a step back. The backs of my legs hit the bed’s edge, and I stumble, awkwardly planting my ass on the mattress.
The man sighs like my question bothers him. I think it’s a reasonable one. “I am… the son of a fallen angel. You can call me Az.”
“Az,” I repeat, testing the short name. “Where am I? What am I doing here? Is this where you live?”
The man—male?—smirks, his lips curling sinfully. “So many questions, Simone,” he says with a low purr.
My hair stands on end, my hands itching to go to throwing stars I don’t have on me. “How do you know my name? What do you want from me?”
Az moves closer, sauntering to a chair by the low table that used to be covered with food. He looks at the mess I left behind, then picks up a grape I somehow missed, popping it into his mouth. Infuriatingly, he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to answer me.
“I heard your friends calling you by that name,” he finally says, his stunning eyes steady as they hold mine prisoner. “It’s a beautiful name.”
I shudder at the sensual whisper. This man is a walking seduction. Sex on legs, as Jessica would say.
I shake my head, trying to break the spell he has me under. “When did you hear them call me that?”
Az stretches out his long legs, crossing them at the ankle. “Some months ago now, I suppose. To those born in Hell, time holds little meaning.”
Taking a deep breath, I try to decipher everything he’s saying or, more importantly, not saying.
“So you’ve learned my name some time ago. And now you… helped me after I was attacked?”
My fingers reach for the burn on my cheek, but Az just shakes his head once, sharply, and freezes me in place.
“Something like that,” he replies with a small smile. Though it doesn’t show his teeth, it feels distinctly predatory. “You were disoriented. Stumbling around. Hungry, thirsty. Weak.”
Every word feels like a thrown rock, and I flinch through the description. I should be dead. It’s a miracle I survived. Or… was it Az?
I clear my throat, my hand stroking the silky duvet underneath me.
“Well, thank you for bringing me here. And leaving all that food.” I watch with mounting trepidation as he tilts his head.
I think he knows what I’m about to say. “But could you perhaps help me find my way back to Abaddon now? My trainers will be worried.”
“Your trainers,” he echoes impassively.
“I… Yes,” I say awkwardly. “Surely you know them? The Fallen of Abaddon?”
Now his smile reveals even, white teeth. “Oh, I know them. Tell me, Simone.” He leans back and steeples his fingers across his stomach. My gaze goes there involuntarily, and I’m mortified to find myself staring at the bulge tenting his slacks.
Oh my god.
“Did you hear what I asked?”
Quickly, I lift my eyes to meet his. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I asked if you really want to return to Purgatory, little fairy,” Az replies with a wide, knowing grin stretching his lips.
I blink at him. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s my home now.”
He shudders dramatically. “Bland food, bland angels, bland mortals. Everything is gray and—”
“Bland?” I ask wryly.
Az gives me a slow smile before nodding. “Exactement.”
“You speak French?” I ask, surprised and just a little delighted. Since I was brought to Hell, I’ve only heard it from myself.
“Naturellement,” he replies, inclining his head.
It makes his hair fall to the front and caress his unlined forehead.
A small part of me feels jealous. It’s the only part of the dreamer Simone that survived, with the majority of my parts no longer trusting my choices in romantic interests.
“I speak every language you can think of.”
I furrow my brow. “Why? What’s the point? Do you… Do you travel to the human world often? Could you take me there?”
My excitement mounts with every word I speak until I find myself sitting on the edge of my seat and leaning toward the mysterious man who saved me from exposure in the most unforgiving environment.
The smile on Az’s face now seems stiffer. “You haven’t answered my question, little fairy. Would you really want to go back to Abaddon when you could have real food, comfortable furnishings, and any form of entertainment that amuses you?”
I slowly shake my head. “What… here?”
“And why not?” Az spreads his hands to indicate our surroundings. “No flesh-eating critters to bother you here. The wards I made keep them out, much like the ones around Purgatory. And I can always bring food like this.” He cringes and shoots my backpack a look. “Or whatever you’d like.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “This is just another prison. Only I’d be alone here. I have friends in Abaddon. Friends who are probably very worried about me.”
Az tilts his head. The look in his eyes is pure calculation. “They would probably be happy for you. Would true friends not want you to be well-fed and safe?”
“I… Of course! But not like this.” I shake my head, pleading with him with my eyes. “Not in a fallen angel’s cave, like an animal in an exhibit.”
His eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “Well, you’ll change your mind. Rest, eat some more. Try on some of the gowns.”
“Gowns?” I parrot dumbly.
Az’s smile returns. “Yes! Gowns.”
He claps his hands, and I’m suddenly surrounded by neat piles of heavy dresses.
There’s lots of velvet, pearl beading, and lace brocade, mostly in black and crimson.
Az snaps his fingers, and open jewelry boxes join the yards of fabric, full of glinting necklaces, bracelets, and tiaras, all dripping with heavy stones.
“These are like something from the Middle Ages,” I murmur, confused. “Like something out of a museum.”
Az blinks at me, then looks at the items he conjured out of thin air.
“These are far more precious than the hastily stitched outfits that are fashionable among humans right now,” he says, his upper lip curling like he’s affronted. “Trust me.”
I press my lips together, my fists clenching at my sides.
“If you won’t help me get back to Purgatory, then I will manage on my own.” I hop off the bed and grab my backpack. A sudden thought hits me, and I round on the incredibly handsome angel. “Did you take my throwing stars?”
Az smiles at me. “No,” he says, drawing it out. “I didn’t take them from you. You were throwing them around in all directions. Well, except at the actual threats. I took care of those. I did pick them up, though. But you can’t have them back.”
My mouth falls open in affront. “Excuse you? Incroyable!” It shouldn’t be surprising that a man can be this malicious, but he did save my life in a way, after all. “You would have me walk however long it takes to get back to Abaddon defenseless?”
“No,” he says again, his smile somehow sharp, something ancient stirring in his eyes. “You won’t be walking across Hell defenseless. Because you won’t be walking across Hell at all. You’re staying here.”
I’m still processing his words when he gets up, adjusting his cuffs, even though they’re already perfectly positioned.
“Are you going to stop me?” I force out through gritted teeth.
“I won’t stop you,” Az says casually. “The wards will. Now, if you will excuse me, I must make a few public appearances… for appearances’ sake.”
I sputter, scrambling for something to say to convince him to let me go.
“Wait! You can’t leave me here. What will your Council say when they find out you’re keeping me prisoner?”
Az grins. “They won’t.”
With that, he disappears. One moment, he’s standing in front of me, the next, there’s just empty air and the smell of sandalwood and amber.
“Az!” I shout, then slam my hand over my mouth. Why would I be calling for him? Surely he was just joking. Surely he’s not powerful enough to put wards around a whole cave.
Determined, I stride toward the exit I meant to brave earlier, ignoring the darkness.
And slam right into an invisible wall.