Page 13

I THREW A PLEADING LOOK at Hamiel standing uncomfortably by Abyss, his bottom lip caught between his pearly teeth. He lifted a shoulder. My attention went back to the soul that was my next passenger.

“Sir, get into the carriage,” I stated firmly for the tenth time. This bloated man was plucking the very last nerve I possessed.

“I have gold stashed away under my floor. You can have it,” the dead spirit of a cankerous excuse for what had once been a human being said. He was a tall man, lean, with limited teeth and hair but an overabundance of malevolence in his heart. “Real money. Not British.”

“Get. In. The. Carriage.”

“Please, I didn’t mean to kill them all. I just wanted to make them sick.” He fell to his knees, hands grasping at my duster. “It was just a tiny pig.”

“My patience is at its end. Either you enter the carriage on your own or I shall throw you in. Your judgment was made. You confessed to the walker that you poisoned your family well with a rotted pig carcass to sicken your wife and children. They died. You have died. The tainted water took you all save one. Your youngest daughter. All have been escorted to their final destination. You, sir, I will take you to the pits where you will serve out eternity paying for your crimes.”

He fell to the ground, kissed my boots, and clawed at his face. Hamiel awaited his youngest daughter after taking her brothers into the rainbow.

“They were disobedient,” he snapped when I reached down to lift him from the wet grass outside his meager farm. Even the animals that roamed about were in poor shape. Lean pigs, scrawny cats, and a horse that looked too weak to stand. I hoped the misuse of the animals here was added to the long list of his sins. The fire whips that would lash his back for eternity were well deserved.

“ You are disobedient.” I lifted him from the grass, feet dangling as he wriggled about like a worm on a hook. “I am done asking,” and I threw him into the carriage. The door slammed closed on its own accord. The man became incensed, throwing himself at the door, but it would not budge. I drew in a long breath, then turned to look at Hamiel petting Abyss. “I shall return quickly.”

“I am sorry he was so evil,” he whispered, his aura dulled by his accompaniment of three young boys under ten within the past several hours.

“His payment for his deeds is about to be paid.” I climbed into the seat. Hamiel stepped away from the horse as he stared up at me with concern. “Please, wait here.”

“Always. I will always wait for you.”

His love helped lessen the darkness brewing inside me. Somewhat. With a meager smile, I snapped the reins. Abyss reared, sensing my upset I was sure, and then bolted into a gallop that snapped my head back. I held onto the reins with both hands, planted my boots solidly, and took some joy from the howls of horror from the man imprisoned in Satan’s carriage. His yowls could still be heard when we burst through the walls of flame. Once we slowed, the reins slid from my white-knuckled grip. Abyss pranced about gayly. His mood was always good when we were in the realm where he was created.

I slid from my seat, plucked my hat from where I had been sitting on it, and snapped it back into shape. Then, I could see the winged shapes of the nether harpies descending out of the smoky sky, and I threw open the carriage door. The killer bolted from within the brougham, tripping over himself to flee, but there was no escaping. Arms folded over my chest, I watched without emotion as they caught the man not two hundred yards from where the carriage sat, talons biting into his arms and back. His screams melded with the shouts and wails of all the damned as he was lifted upward. Four of the winged demons carried him off to whatever personal hell awaited him. My sight locked on the shifting horde of the miserable.

Abyss pushed at my back, breaking my fixation on the masses down below.

“Let us return to Hamiel,” I whispered and gave the horse a pat. Within moments, we had breached the wall of fire—my fear made the cold lamb stew I’d eaten curdle in my gullet—and were charging through the thick woods and small towns as if we were a chariot of the gods. Perhaps, in some macabre way, we were. Hamiel sat on a log fence, his radiance a beacon from a mile away. I shot a glance at the tainted well. The reek of sickness rose from within. A cloud of death. He ran to us, his satchel bouncing as I met him halfway. I took him into my arms, holding him close, breathing in the honeysuckle aroma that clung to his curls.

“You are a blessing of goodness,” I whispered into his golden ringlets.

“There are souls that would try the patience of Job. That you did so well with that man speaks well of you.” He rose to his toes to place his mouth against mine. The kiss, a chaste thing at first, grew into a wild exploration led by the petite bespeckled man in my arms. “The child is not at death’s door at the moment.” I nodded. The pull on me had disappeared. “May we go somewhere to play checkers?”

“There is room in the carriage,” I offered as a gentle wind shook the leaves on the trees.

“May we go to your home to play checkers?”

There was something in the way he asked that lit a match to the kindling of desire that sat smoldering whenever he was near.

“Are you asking me to take you to my home?” I wanted to be sure I was reading his request properly. He was, after all, rather inexperienced in the ways of passion, and I did not want to—

“Livingstone, I would like to visit your home so we can make love to each other.”

Ah, well, that was certainly clearly stated. If I had lived to be two hundred, I would never have imagined that a heavenly being would be so ardent. I’d been led to believe that all who served in his name were pious and virtuous, having left all the more sordid human desires behind.

“Do you not wish to go further with our love?”

His question yanked me from my meanderings. “I do very much so wish to love you more. I was just…” I felt stupid saying this, but his confusion required a small explanation to set his mind at ease. “I was mulling over how it is that we are still so filled with earthly drives. Hunger, thirst, anger, and lust.”

“We are moribund.” He rose to his toes to kiss the corner of my mouth. His lean frame tight to mine stirred the embers to life. “While there are downsides to being not wholly of our realms, there are upsides as well.”

I captured his mouth, eager to explore those upsides. With a huff, I cupped his tiny backside. He squeaked as I lifted him and toted him to the carriage. I deposited him inside with much more gentility than I had the rider before him.

“Sit here and be safe.” I ran the back of my index finger along his soft cheek. “I would not wish to lose you in the vortex.”

He nodded, smiling softly. Closing the door, I climbed into the seat, body humming in time with the powers of the carriage, and snapped the reins. Abyss was ready. He always was. My shoulder blades smacked into the hard back of my seat. I caught a soft thud in the passenger area but could not turn my head to look as my hat had blown down over my eyes. With a muffled curse, I yanked it off, lifted my ass, and sat on it as we catapulted along the countryside. Abyss hit the spinning portal at breakneck speeds. The winds were howling, the surrounding spinning mass of time dark with splashes of bright white. I only got a brief glance before we hit the ground in purgatory.

The yelp of an imp filled the now quiet world we had entered. Hauling back on the reins, Abyss and the carriage rolled to a dead stop. Hamiel thunked against the glass behind me as I fought not to go head first over the footboard.

“Ah bad horse! Break my face. Ah face broken!” Delmar was wailing off to the west. I slipped to the ground, minus my flat hat, and opened the door. Green light filled the interior to show Hamiel picking himself up off the floor, his spectacles hanging off one ear.

“Are you unharmed?” I asked, offering him my hand. He nodded, fixed his spectacles, and stepped out of the carriage.

“I’m quite well, just a little tumbled. Your servant is in great distress,” he said as he ran over to where Delmar rolled about on the ground. “Little imp, are you badly wounded?”

The imp glanced at me through his spindly fingers before shooting to his feet. His nose was bloodied, but he seemed well enough to stalk over to me and kick dirt over my boots.

“Why is him here?!” Delmar demanded while pointing a long claw at Hamiel kneeling in the dry land looking perplexed. “Take him home. I make good food. For two!” He held up four fingers. “No feed pretty angel. No, no, no!”

“Delmar, he is our guest. Now, I wish you to show him into the house while I tend to Abyss. Unless you wish to unhitch, curry, feed, and water the horse?” I crossed my arms over my chest as he peeked over at the stallion. Abyss bared his teeth. Delmar shook his head, long pointed ears flopping. “As I thought. So, be a good host to my dear friend. Heat some water for us to wash up in, then we’ll enjoy your cooking.”

“I am bad host. Bad host. Spit in soup,” I heard him muttering as he spun on his tiny hooves and stalked over to Hamiel.

“Do not spit in the soup,” I called a warning and got a tensing of skinny red shoulders under his grimy shirt. “Go with Delmar. I shall be with you shortly.”

Hamiel bobbed his head. A thick cloud of lost souls gravitated to him as he followed the mumbling imp. Once they were inside, I rushed through my barn chores. Abyss seemed as put out as Delmar did with the quick curry, but I promised him I would bring him two apples in the morning. He nipped at my ass as I left the stall, which I took to mean he was happy with my offer.

“Three apples. No more than that or you will become flatulent.” I ran a hand over his ebony nose. He tossed his head up and down. Deal done. The mangers were full of summer hay, so he moved over to begin eating. I jogged past the carriage, tiny balls of essence bouncing off my cheeks as I ran to the house. The door opened with a slight creak. Hamiel was at the washstand, his coat on the back of a chair, his ascot gone, the neck of his shirt opened wide. A jolt of want coursed through me. The smell of dinner was secondary. “You found the soap.”

What an asinine thing to say. The man stands before you with soap bubbles on his chin.

“Delmar brought it to me. And this towel.” Hamiel gave a tap on the rough cotton hand towel resting on his shoulder. “He tells me there is beef barley soup cooking, which smells wonderful. But it will be some time as he has to fix his nose.”

I looked over to the table where Delmar was seated atop it with a tin of boot black. He smeared a gob over the slice on his nose while glaring at me openly.

“Possibly someday someone will stop trying to cut, dig, or wheedle their way through the portal, and then that someone would stop being trounced by an eighty-five stone horse.”

The imp stuck out his tongue. That made me chuckle. I removed my duster, tossed it over Hamiel’s, and joined him at the washstand to freshen up. He smiled tentatively at me, passing over the towel as I drank him in. This was a dark, dismal hovel, but his presence made it a palace.

“So, did you bring the checkers?” I asked and got a soft little nod.

“I would love to play…after we spend some time alone.”

Ah. Oh. Yes, that sounded excellent. I rushed through my ablutions, splashing water about like a duckling, and then, while still wet-cheeked, I buried my face into his neck as I lifted his tiny boots from the floorboards.

“Keep an eye on the soup,” I called over my shoulder as I carried this precious man into my bedroom, pausing only to kick the door closed before toting him to the bed. I wished I had a room fitting of his stature. Something filled with thick rugs, crystal chandeliers, and fine bed linens. Sadly, all I had to offer him was this dreary room in this bleak cabin.

“Your brow is furrowed.” He ran a finger over the creases. “Do you not wish to lay with me?”

“No, I that is not it at all. I long to be with you, but I am saddened I have this cheerless hut to bring you to when you deserve so much more.”

His lips found mine for a sweeping kiss that made my knees weak. When his lips left mine, his amber gaze found my shameful one.

“I have all that I need when I am in your arms,” he whispered over the steady tap-tap-tap of souls drawn to us. I found his mouth again, tasting the glory that was his and his alone. He began to wriggle, his shaft hard against my stomach.

I placed him on the floor. “May I undress you?” I shakily enquired, my blood thrumming through me as I looked down at his beautiful face.

“Yes, please, yes.”

And so I did as slowly as I could to ensure he was not feeling rushed. I kissed his shoulders when his shirt slipped from his arms. I tasted his navel when I dropped to my knees to unbutton his trousers. I licked his hipbone when I slid his underthings down to his ankles. And I dropped a line of kisses to his calves when I removed one white boot and stocking, then the other. I kneeled before him, the light from a single candle on the bedstand paling in comparison to the ethereal light flowing from him. He was a work of art. A sculpture of fine pale ivory that only the finest artist could have crafted. Waiflike, golden, slim. Perfection in form and heart.

“You are too good for me,” I groaned as I cupped his buttocks to draw him closer. “I know this to be true, and yet I find I cannot send you away, for I love you far too deeply.”

“And I you,” he replied in a ragged breath. I rubbed my face over his stomach, his cock tickling the underside of my chin. “Please…”

I knew what that plea was for and so I bent my head to take him into my mouth. His foreskin slid back as my tongue moved over it. A burst of salty divinity erupted on my tongue. His hips stuttered forward. I swallowed him down. A gasp followed by a moan filled the room.

“Livingstone.” He sighed, his short fingernails raking over my scalp. I sucked him until he was huffing like a horse ridden hard before pulling off.

“Let us move to the bed.”

He hurried to comply, his pearly flesh pinkened with passion, his cock slick with my spittle. I watched him stretch out on the bed, his gold eyes ablaze, curls framing his round angelic face, and pondered how it was that this man wanted me.

“You are wearing too much,” he pointed out as his head fell to my pillow.

I found my voice enough to reply, “I agree.” I undressed with a speed that Abyss would envy. Trousers, ascot tie, and underthings all flew to the four corners. When I stood naked before him, Hamiel’s eyes rounded in what I hoped was delight and not fear.

“You are a mighty man,” he whispered as I crawled between his slim thighs. Elbows locked not to crush him. I let my belly rest on his as I lowered my head for another kiss. His arms linked around my neck, his cock pressed into my stomach, and his ankles came to rest on my backside. He writhed below me, his prick leaving a wet trail on the thick mound of dark hair at the base of my cock. “Hurry, Livingstone, hurry. I am sure I cannot hold out much longer!”

“Slow your breathing,” I whispered over his puffy lips. “This may be your first time with a man, and I do not want to harm you.”

“It may not be and so you may go faster,” he argued as his cheeks shone with a high patina of perspiration.

I smiled down at him. “We will never know, so we shall proceed with caution.” He huffed, and I captured it with yet another kiss. I could kiss him for eternity and never tire of it. Rocking into him now, my prick rubbing alongside his, we began to rut harder and harder. I knew he was close just by his jagged breaths. So I eased away, slipping off him, much to his displeasure. He grabbed at me, but I pressed his hands to his chest. “Catch your breath.” I dropped a kiss to a dark cherry-red nipple. His mouth fell open. “We need something to ease the way.”

I left him splayed out on the bed, cursing myself for not thinking of grabbing anything for this before we retired. I crept through the doorway, locating Delmar spread out in front of the fire, his entire nose coated with boot black, snoring away. So much for keeping an eye on the soup. I had a thought to creep over, grab the fire poker, and move the cauldron to the side, but I could not bring myself to get that close to the fire. I ran to the jars stacked on the lone cupboard and grabbed the tin of rendered bear fat and darted back to my love.

He welcomed me with open arms. I kissed my way from his flat stomach to his tender lips as I shimmied over him. We touched and ground against each other for a moment. Hamiel was not to be put off, though.

“Please, love me before we are summoned away,” he pleaded as I tugged on a stiff nipple with my lips. Sadly, he was right. I pushed up and sat back on my heels, using my hands to spread his legs wide. He blushed deep red as I eyed his tight balls and pink hole. “Touch me or I may perish!”

“Drama surely was part of your past,” I teased but removed the lid from the tin just the same. My control was thin as well. I dipped two fingers into the fat, pleased that it smelled of berries that the bear must have eaten before being downed. He took me by the wrist to lead my fingers to his entrance.

“There, right there. Oh yes, yes, Livingstone, yes.” His body undulated like a serpent, and I had a momentary worry that I was a vile thing to sully this stunning man. But as his channel clamped down around my finger all reasonable thought fled. I soon had two fingers in him, then three. He rolled his hips as he dug at the sheets. Each time I went deep, I found that magical spot inside him and pulled a cry of delight from his mouth. I kissed his cock as I worked him open. Nonsensical words fell from him as I readied him. “Stop, please, no more or I will spill. I need you in me.”

Yes, I needed that too. More than I needed to breathe. With a grunt that was supposed to be a word of some sort, I removed my fingers from him and coated my cock with grease.

Hamiel fairly thrummed with pent-up energy and desire. I eased him to his side, snuggling up behind him, and threaded my leg through his. I rubbed my chin on his shoulder, kissed his ear, and whispered delicate words of love into his curls as I nudged at his hole with the tip of my cock.

“So lovely, so very beautiful, so beloved,” I cooed as I pressed into him. He tensed, and I rubbed his back and sides, pulling back and then moving forward, inching my way into his heat. It took what seemed to be ages to be fully seated. I lay still, an arm lying over his hip, his flagging cock in my hand, to give him time to adjust to my possession.

“It is unlike anything ever,” he softly said as his head lolled to the side. I nibbled at his throat as I began to play with his cock. Soon he was stirring back to rigidity as I flexed, then relaxed my muscles, easing in and slowly sliding back out. The tension left him as he acclimated. When he began to arch his back for more, I rocked harder, thumbing his slit to gather the droplets oozing from him. Down I stroked, then up, pumping gently, egging him closer to his rapture. With a shuffle of my weight, I found the tangle of nerves buried inside him. He cried out with each thump of my cock into that tight ball. Soon he was trembling as his seed flowed out of him and over my hand. I pressed in deep, with one long thrust, and flew to the very stars as his channel contracted around me. My cock spewed and pulsed, filling him with spend. I held him tight through his return, bussing soft pecks to his neck while telling him how glorious his love made me feel.

“This must be a dream.” He sighed as he wriggled about, my cock slipping free, to lie staring at me with adoration in his gaze. Somehow, in our madness to be with each other, neither of us had taken his spectacles off. I eased them from his ears now, rolling to the side to place them on the stand. I pulled at the drawers that lay over the stand—mine by the size—and wiped my hand before easing them between his thighs.

“It is a much better dream than I generally have,” I replied before pulling the rumpled coverlet over us. He burrowed into my chest like a borer beetle, his springy curls tickling my nose as he rained kisses over my throat. I held him to me for the longest time, neither of us speaking much. The scrape of souls at the window ever present. I may have dozed off, for when I opened my eyes, Hamiel was at the window, spectacles on, hand splayed over the dirty glass. He was in my shirt. A wave of admiration washed over me. My shirt was far too large, but he looked beyond stunning, even if his curls were knotted and his neck bore a few love marks.

“They call to me,” he softly said as the souls bounced off the window like flies. “There are so many. Why do the winged ones not come here to carry their prayers upward and free them from this misery in greater numbers?”

I rolled onto my back, hands behind my head, my sight locked on the wooden ceiling planks. Rough cut. They might be from the decrepit willows outside.

“That is something you would have to ask those of your realm,” I answered and moved my head to look at him. “Why not come back to bed? Our time here is short, and I wish to feed you soup if Delmar has not burned it out of spite.”

He moved from the window to sit on the edge of the bed. “We never played checkers.”

“We shall set up the board and play as we feast on overly salted soup. Tell me the truth. Am I not romancing you as if we were royalty?”

That made us both snicker. I reached out a hand to pull him back down when a shriek that penetrated through the tacky air ripped through the cabin. Hamiel jerked.

“I suspect that is Delmar forgetting to use the poker to move the pot from the fire,” I commented, for I had heard that cry before. I was about to mention how many times the imp burned himself when a sound unlike I had ever heard before echoed across the in-between. The spirits at the window scattered. Delmar threw open the bedroom door and dove under the bed, leaving a trail of urine behind him. I got to my feet. The front door blew open with such force it ripped from its hinges.

An angel strode into the cabin. Tall, wide, with wings of white tucked into his back. He was clad in fine armor and shining boots and carried a sword that illuminated the small home. His hair was reddish brown and to his shoulders, and his eyes, when they locked onto me lying abed naked with a half-dressed walker at my side, ignited from amber to molten gold. His grip tightened on his heavenly weapon.

“Michael,” Hamiel coughed out.

The archangel took a step and then paused as the ghastly wail from outside echoed around us once more. I jumped to my feet. The blanket tumbled to the floor when another entity strode into the cabin. A tall man, indescribably beautiful, with hair the color of wheat, eyes as bright and blue as a sapphire, and a smile that curdled my blood. I felt his command of me deep in my bones. This was the one who had resurrected me. This was my new Lord and master. This wingless visage was the prince of darkness.

“Lucifer,” I gasped. The fallen one stepped inside, around the archangel, his dark red robes sweeping over the floor as he disappeared from view.

I glanced at Hamiel. He was as pale as fresh curds. “When you two are decently attired, I would have you join me and my brother in your antechamber,” Lucifer beckoned. There was nothing to do but obey. “Michael, do sheathe your sword. There is nothing in this realm for you to slay. The imp is below you, and the coachman is mine. Unless you are driven to run your walker through, the display of power is embarrassing.”

His voice was like velvet wrapped around death. The angel slid his weapon into the silver scabbard riding on his hip.

I moved quickly, finding my trousers and turning to find Hamiel whimpering, his eyes round. I pulled my breeches over my ass, fumbling with the buttons. Delmar whined under the bed like a terrified dog.

“Come.” I offered Hamiel my hand. He took it, his touch cold where it was usually warm.

“I shall be smote.” He sniffled as tears began to flow down his cheeks.

“Then he shall smite us both, for I shall never leave your side.” I put my arm around him, tucked him into my side, and marched out to the parlor that now smelled of burned beef and barley soup to face the piper as the old ones say. I suspected the tune we would dance to would not be a sprightly reel.