Page 23 of An Unexpected Ascension (A War Between Worlds #1)

The Angel

“This quest, there may be danger involved. The object we’re looking for isn’t well known, but it does exist here somewhere in Hell. From what I’ve gathered, it’s in the exact same place where the Tree of Knowledge sits, but parallel. Heaven and Hell are mirrored, two halves of a whole world but separated so thoroughly that they exist together on two different planes,”

Lucifer explains.

“Now, it’s only my assumption, but it’s a start. We don’t have long to collect this object before we strike our first act of war.”

“What does this object look like?”

“It’s something of bone, buried perhaps. We are not entirely sure. I was gifted a vision from the tree; an object with the power of everlasting death, but that’s where I lost connection.”

Slumped over my plate, I bite into a pastry, the flakey crumbs sticking to my lips.

“Why am I going?”

“Over the centuries, I’ve had visions. Some profound, others simple and meaningless, but visions all the same. Flashes of history, of creation, of secrets. All gifted from the Tree, seemingly endless. I believe you will have the same.”

“If that’s so, then why don’t you go yourself?”

“I-I do not leave my manor. No, that’s what my Second in Command is for.”

Cowardice, perhaps? Maybe, but Lucifer doesn’t strike me as someone who fears what he himself had a hand in creating. No, there is something deeper there.

“Long ago, Hell was merely a vast land of ruin where beasts roamed free to torment and defile, to obliterate the souls of the damned. Only, I could not be erased. So, I built myself a home. As time went on, I realized my lands were empty and those that still lingered, didn't stay long for the evil that lurked would eventually swallow them whole.

“And as I watched from the window of my war room, I realized this was no place for my Ada – when I bring her home of course – so I made some changes. The first was to build a city to protect those souls that still held on. During these times, I was able to sort through who was worthy to stay and who was irredeemable.

“I saw chaos, anarchy, riots. These people – they needed structure and guidance, and the only way to truly rule was to be the only monster they feared or at the very least, feared more than the beasts that roamed at night.

“That is when I found Greygore. A cruel, disgusting thing. Tearing people from their new homes, dragging them by their legs, sucking the soul from their bodies before shredding them to pieces. It was... something I never wished to see again. And to think, this is where my Ada will spend her eternity. The place was much too ghastly for a sweet soul like hers.

“I quickly found that this animal cannot be maimed, much like me, and being so new with my powers, I was maybe a little reckless. So, I lured him to my very own dungeons. My methods I’m not so proud of, but the souls I fed him saved many others.

“Still, I knew it couldn’t be that easy. Shackles and bonds did not hold such a creature and surely, he would escape. With the fear looming over me that my Ada would never be safe, I did the only other thing I could think of. I made a deal with the universe.

“And now our souls are linked in exchange for his entrapment. Which means I cannot leave this manor, or I risk a great, ancient evil escaping.”

“Depravity in the form of a beast,”

I mutter, recalling Hermes’ words.

“Indeed. Many mistake Greygore for me. I guess we’re two halves of a whole now, aren’t we?”

He smiles sadly.

“He may be the true Devil, but I still reign over Hell.”

Lucifer stands, extending a hand in invitation.

“Join me in our training room. I can teach you a thing or two about a dagger.”

The Devil could be so easy to love.

He’s nothing like the rumors back on Earth or even in Heaven. Everyone fears a man that is nothing but kindhearted and levelheaded. His soul is made to be loved and to give that love in return. I see it in the way he speaks about his wife. The way he reminisces about his sons.

The real fear lies in the demon who he calls his Second.

In the few hours Lucifer trained me, I only picked up a couple techniques on wielding a dagger. Nothing that would bring down an army, but enough to at least know how to hold it properly.

As the skies grow darker, that very demon leans against the doorframe of my room, arms crossed. I feel his presence before I see him, tucking the dagger Lucifer lent me into a holster strapped to my thigh.

“Let’s go,”

he orders coldly.

I take my time, stalking over to him, purposely dragging my feet. Before I have the chance to get to him, he’s reaching his arm out, snatching my bicep.

The world twists and contorts, colors colliding and blending together, like a dizzying roller-coaster. In a flash, we’re standing in the city streets of Hell.

Blistering heat swells, thickening the muggy air. The stench reeking of rot and bile, insides decaying and strewn along alleyways. The buildings are not tall, but there are many, clustered and all different sizes. They vary in states of disaster, some boarded up with wood, windows busted and graffitied, while others sparkle and stand proud under the red sun.

There’s a distinct memory that flits to the forefront of my mind when I toured New York at midday in the height of summer. The streets bustling with chaos, bodies flooding the walkways. Noise, all different sounds clashing, creating a buzzing that rang in my ears for days after.

Only here, these bodies are dead. Some lie sobbing on the ground outside buildings, begging for help. Some are merely bones, skin missing in patches. Then others, perfectly intact, showered and well dressed.

It was vastly overwhelming compared to Lucifer’s manor that sat mostly empty on a good day.

“Keep up. Wouldn’t want you to get lost,”

Hermes calls back to me, already weaving his way through the corpses roaming around.

We thread through bodies, passing a variety of shops offering sweets, liquor, and weapons. The last one caught my eye, a sword glittering in the window.

“Wait! Shouldn’t we stock up or something?”

I shout at him.

He halts only for a second. “Later.”

Then continues, disappearing inside an alleyway.

I race after him, down the dark, damp narrow street between two buildings. The last time I was left alone in Hell it didn’t end in my favor. Hermes stands outside a door, waiting for me before knocking. It creeks open, revealing a male made of thick muscles, tattooed from bald head to the tips of his fingers. There are several piercings adorning his face with sharp pointed studs.

His black eyes rove over us, apparently deeming us worthy of entry. As we walk past him, I have the urge to curl into myself, to hide my soul from the giant towering over me. He only smirks, showcasing a set of sharpened teeth. A monster.

Shivers run ramped over my skin, my stomach churning at the fear.

“I can smell you from here,”

Hermes mutters in my ear from behind me.

“I showered before we left,”

I growl, offended.

“No, I meant your fear. You reek.”

At that I straighten my spine, pulling my shoulders back. Maybe if I pretend I’m not about to piss myself, it won’t be so obvious.

We’re escorted down the stairs, the light from the entryway darkening as we descend.

“What are we doing here?”

“Meeting an acquaintance.”

He shoves me forward into a crowd.

The room is cast in a moody blue, the walls vibrating with the bass from a DJ on stage. I realize we’re at a club. At the other end of the DJ booth is a bar, just like you would find on Earth. He drags me in that direction, motioning to a man behind the counter. He drops two shot glasses in front of us and fills them with a clear liquor.

Hermes picks them both up, handing one over and clinks the glasses together.

“Might as well enjoy our last night of freedom,”

he shouts over the thumping of music.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps the liquor down in one go. The ink whirling along his neck, disappearing into the V of his shirt.

“Too hungover from last night?”

He nudges his head towards my untouched shot.

In answer, I toss it back, handing him the glass.

“Nope.”

For the first time since I’ve met the demon, he smiles. A real, genuine smile. Heat burns along my insides, and I blame it on the liquor.

“Well, then. Let’s have some fun.”

A part of me doesn’t want to let loose with this demon, but an even larger part desperately wants to remember what it feels like to live again. To get fucked up and dance until every muscle in my body is screaming at me.

And so, I do.

Hermes feeds me shot after shot, then lets me push into the crowd. While he disappears, I sway and jump and move. Bodies gyrating against one another, a thin layer of sweat coating skin, hearts thumping to the beat as if we were once again alive. My calves burn and my thighs ache, but my lungs... they feel so full. Even my head, once cluttered with unclear thoughts, now overtaken by the night. There’s no room left for blurry images of my past, flashes of memories that haunt me, the unknown clawing its way inside. It’s all just dancing, sweating, and music. It’s bliss.

Hell is bliss.

My body jolts sideways, a grip on my wrist tugging me out from the center of the crowd. The music grows distant as we ascend the stairs and back out into the streets. It’s grown darker and though the air is still hot, it’s at least a bit less stuffy than inside the club.

“Looks like someone enjoyed themselves.”

Hermes throws an arm over my shoulder as we saunter across town.

Shoving him off, I stumble, the liquor infecting every inch of my body.

“I don’t get it.”

“What?”

“How can Hell feel so good?” I wonder.

Our pace is slow as we continue, his shoulder bumping into mine every now and then.

“Because Hell allows you to feel. Tomorrow might be a different story. What usually follows a night of overindulgence?”

I nod.

“Then perhaps we need some water. Maybe food? Will that even help?”

“No. You could bleed it out, but then there’s the matter of losing too much blood. You’ll need your energy.”

“I hate this.”

“Hmm?”

“I hate how much I loved tonight. How alive I felt again.”

“It’s hell, isn’t it?”

He chuckles.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess it is.”

We come upon a building, windows boarded, but door intact. He shoves it open, ushering me through before sliding the bolt into place, locking it. Then nods his head to the stairs and as I take each step, I feel his body behind mine. Like a net should I fall. After the fifth set of stairs, my legs wobble with defeat, but he finally stops at a lone door.

I take in the small apartment, all open and industrial. Black piping lines the wooden ceiling, the walls stacked with rust-colored bricks. Facing us is a wall entirely made of glass, overlooking the city. To the right is a small kitchen: cabinets, oven, sink, and fridge. To the left lies a door, presumably the bathroom. Beside the door, against the bricks is a bed draped in a black duvet.

It’s simple, empty, lifeless.

There’s no wonder he chooses to spend most of his time at the Devil’s manor.

“There are other things that can make you feel alive.”

The heat of his chest seeps into my back, his fingertips grazing my arms.

“And what might that be?”

“I can show you.”

His words tickle the side of my neck as he tilts my head, his fist gripped tightly in my hair. My eyes flutter closed as I breathe, trying to refocus myself. Stepping away, I spin to face him.

“I think I’ll have to live without your torment for the night.”

“If I’m not mistaken, I think you still owe me.”

“Owe you?!”

“I saved you, didn’t I? In exchange for whatever I want.”

“And what exactly do you want?”

It was a stupid question because I know damn well what he wants.

“You. On your knees.”

Navy eyes gleam back at me, his body suddenly crowding this small room. I feel swallowed whole by his presence, meek in comparison. He wants me humiliated. He wants my pride handed over to him like I never owned it in the first place.

He sees the fight warring within me.

“I’ll do no such thing. Find something else.”

“Come on, Angel. How long has it been? Hmm?”

Hermes steps closer and I retreat, a dangerous dance of willpower. The back of my knees hit the edge of his bed, and I know how this night is going to end. His words light a fire in my core so hot it burns me from the inside out.

His fingers graze my stomach beneath my shirt before he lifts it over my head. I can only stare, my breath caught short in my lungs. I’m paralyzed with confliction, wishing so badly to have the strength to deny him, but my body has been aching since the first time our mouths joined back in Heaven.

“Let go for just one night,”

he whispers.