Uno

Uno

I woke, panicked, confused and disoriented, the thick, acrid smell of smoke still assaulting my senses. Darkness blanketed me like silk, threatening to suffocate me as I thrashed out at the blankets that tied me down, trying to escape. It took several minutes for my mind to wrap itself around my surroundings and several more before my heart slipped back from my throat to its proper place beneath my breast. I leaned against the headboard of my king-sized bed and combed shaky fingers through my hair, pulling it away from the nape of my neck. Remnants of sweat dried on my skin in the chill air of my empty apartment. A shiver ran through me, raising goose-flesh, and I was unsure whether it was from the air-conditioning on my damp skin or the memories forced up by my subconscious. The fires, the screaming, the blood congealing in the cracks between the cobbled streets, it all seemed so fresh. But it had been lifetimes since I had wreaked such havoc.

It had just been the dream again…

It had started three weeks ago, though I do not know how many times it has woken me anymore. The sound of her voice echoes through me even in my waking hours; I cannot escape it. The sweet words, whispered in the dark too many lifetimes ago to count. And if I closed my eyes I could see her face. The sweet honey of her eyes had overwhelmed me, intoxicating. I had been lost from the moment I had looked into them; the prisoner of my human heart.

The memories brought with them a burning ache in the recesses of my chest.

I had tried for so long to forget.

With a deep-rooted sigh, and an intense feeling of claustrophobia, I slipped from the bed, successfully knocking the blankets the rest of the way to the floor, forgotten. I made my way through the darkness to the living room and the large bay windows that looked out over the breathtaking city that I had claimed as my own. Seattle. I had come here when it had been nothing more than trees and wet earth. Now, as I pulled open the thick shades, the lights of the vast city illuminated my darkened apartment, chasing away the crushing night and the remnants of my nightmares. I could see a ghost of my own reflection in the rain spattered glass, my skin pale, the color of my eyes too dark to distinguish, the lashes casting long shadows on my cheeks. My eyes were drawn to my own mouth. The memory of how she had loved my lips and the tiny smile that would pull at the corners, a smile that was hers and hers alone, was impossible to forget. She had never failed to brush the pads of her soft fingertips across the pout formed by my bottom lip between each kiss. I let my eyes drift shut, the city lights disappearing as I allowed myself to get lost in the memory of her kiss.

I watched as she stared intently at my mouth, tracing the tip of her finger over my bottom lip. I gave her a crooked smile before nipping playfully at her finger and then brushing it with a kiss. Her eyes met mine, pupils dilated, the color of honey darkening to rich caramel. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as she pressed her body flush against my own. She smelled of honey and spices, her skin smooth beneath my hands. I leaned into her, tilting her chin just so, as I brought our lips together…

My reverie was shattered by an unsettling wave of intoxication. My heart jumped, causing a gasp to escape me, and my stomach clenched. I opened my eyes and noticed the blurry semi-reflection beside my own in the glass. My image stood out in stark contrast beside it, my breath a fog on the windowpane. With a sigh, I spoke – “Samael.”

“It has been a lifetime, my sweet Jehona.”

His voice dripped with venom and honey and made my skin shiver in anticipation. I turned to take in the sight of him leaning casually against the side of one of my large suede chairs. His hair was tousled. His black cashmere sweater looked so soft it made me want to touch him, an urge already provoked simply by being in the same room. His long, lean legs were tailored in fine Venetian wool, his polished Italian loafers reflecting the city lights. There was a smug look on his handsome face that implied that he knew something that I did not, and likely something that I was not going to enjoy. I stifled the growl that rose in my throat. “Yes, my Lord, it has been too long.” I choked over each word as they escaped my lips. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Honestly, it was never a pleasure to have The Seducer arrogantly propped against your furniture in the middle of the night without an invitation. He was, after all, a Prince of Demons, and I had abandoned my post over six hundred years ago; punishment was inevitable.

“Business, mia figlia dolce,” he whispered. ‘My sweet daughter’… the endearment rolled so casually off of his serpent tongue. I knew that it meant nothing to him. But the reaction that it caused in me made my skin crawl. My cheeks flushed at the intrusion of his power as it filled the room like a thick haze, almost solid enough to touch, and a low heat ignited in my belly. I turned away, hiding a shudder that I prayed he did not see, and made my way to the chair opposite the one he was leaning on. I settled in and made myself comfortable, understanding now that he was not here to punish me.

“Are you here as The Seducer, or as The Prince of Demons?”

Samael smirked at the nonchalance in my voice.

“Ah, if only it was that kind of business, my darling.” He sighed and slipped casually into the chair, one leg draped over the arm. The move caused the soft material of his sweater to tighten across his chest as the well fitting trousers pulled unyieldingly over the sinewy muscles of his legs. My breath caught, and it took a moment too long to drag my eyes away. I knew well the game he played with me, but my pulse quickened anyway, shattering the tenuous belief that I could be immune to his numerous charms. His smirk spread into a gentle smile and he raised a brow at me. “Alas, it is not.”

He sounded genuinely disappointed; surprise, surprise. I forced myself not to return his smile as I focused directly into his eyes; eyes that were slowly bleeding into a black as dark as pitch. I knew in that moment that he meant business. He was not here as a game. My mouth went dry and I could feel my lips chapping.

I licked them before I spoke.

“Mio Principe, may I ask what business brings you here?”

I could have kicked myself when my voice broke over the words.

“I have an assignment for you,” he said in an intense whisper that seemed to scrape the roof of his mouth as it escaped. Ice flooded my veins even as his lust heated the air. I could feel my heart stop beating, and I knew he could hear it. A spark lit the pitch of his eyes, and they began to smolder with a mixture of anger and desire. I bit my bottom lip, out of fear or desire I did not know, but the sting helped me focus. I saw his eyes flick to my mouth, and the game turned. So, he wasn’t immune to me. My pulse skipped in excitement and just a bit of fear. I fidgeted with a button on my shirt, and he watched. It was a risk to play his game. I could feel the beginnings of a smile dimple my cheeks as I leaned forward; temptation outweighed the risks. I tried to show interest in the business he’d brought. But I couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward and exposing just the barest hint of cleavage over the top of my fitted button-down.

I could have sworn he purred, but then I could have been imagining things.

“It’s been a long time.”

“And now I need you.” I did not miss the deliberate innuendo, but I did try to ignore it as he continued. “This is of the utmost importance, Jehona. I can trust no one else, and I have allowed you the time you’ve taken in sabbatical, undisturbed by your duties. Will you not do this for me?”

I nodded, becoming serious.

I knew that it would be my soul if I did not agree. I’d never been foolish enough to imagine that my disappearance would have gone unnoticed. I had been Samael’s best. And here he was not only proving that I was findable, but also offering me a chance to redeem myself and go unpunished for my desertion. It was a gift I’d never seen him give.

“There is a soul preparing to transcend,” he explained without further acknowledgement. “A very powerful soul; word of it has spread in all realms, and it has been decided by The Master that it not reach fruition. Do you understand?”

“Do you wish me to – “

“No!” He cut off my words, his voice echoing through the room in a booming wave that pierced my ears. I withdrew, flinching back in reflex. The energy in the room crackled. Samael’s nostrils flared. He could smell my fear. He slid from his seat, moving towards me noiselessly. Not even the air was disturbed in his wake. I wanted to run and I found, for the second time that night, that my heart was racing somewhere in the vicinity of my throat. The pounding was deafening. He leaned over me, blocking any chance of escape I might have had by placing a hand on both arms of the chair. His scent was exhilarating, a mixture of salt and burning sage. My body reacted to him. A shiver ran down my spine, and I could feel the heat in my belly catch fire, my skin becoming flushed.

His smiled contorted his fine features into a vicious leer.

He knew.

“Mmmmmmmm,” he purred, leaning in to smell my hair. “There is nothing I love more, Jehona, than knowing that I will always be the only man to ever touch you.”

His voice was slick and the power within it made me slicker.

He brushed the back of his fingers down my cheek, feather light, and it took most of my will to keep from leaning into his touch. I wanted him, craved him. My breath hitched as a knot pulled somewhere deep inside of me. His powers invaded my senses, feeding on my human vulnerability.

He made that part of me yearn in ways I hadn’t felt in too long.

He pushed me further into the cushioned chair, a predator and its prey, wrapping long, powerful fingers around the curve of my throat, breathing hot against my skin as he straddled my lap. I could feel the wetness between my thighs, the scent of my arousal mingling with the lust in the air. And deep in the recesses of my mind I knew that it was his power controlling me, that I should have been pushing him back. I should have been fighting. His fingers tightened a fraction and my thoughts, my need to fight, were lost with my breath. I hooked my fingers in the waist of his pants, gathering as much of the smooth material in my grasp as I could and pulling his body closer to my own. His chest rubbed against my breasts with every sharp intake of air. Proof of his arousal pressed tight against my belly. I met his eyes with my own, the blackness of them frightening and exhilarating, and I felt trapped. There was a moment where he seemed to be studying me, our eyes locked, my gold to his solid black. And then his lips crashed into mine, and he claimed my mouth. The kiss was dark, greedy, and overpowering.

I arched against him, a moan caught in the back of my throat.

That’s when he laughed; a gentle chuckle, against my lips.

It pulled me out of my uncontrollable desire.

“You are too easy,” he whispered.

A heated flush raced up the back of my neck, causing my scalp to tingle, as my lust turned to shame and then to anger. My jaw clenched. I was about to push him away when his fingers tightened around my throat in a choking vice. He shoved me back, hard, snarling. “Remember your place, Jehona, or you can take a visit to Abaddon before the night is through.”

I nodded my compliance, but he did not release his hold.

“You will do as you are told,” he instructed. “Do you understand?”

I nodded again.

“I would so hate to be forced to damage such beautiful skin,” he breathed, his words tickling my ear as he rubbed his cheek against mine. “You will do as you are told, like the good little girl you are, and you will never have to know how it feels to have your flesh melt, peeling away from your body, taken in so many ways...”

He breathed a hot wave across my skin and my entire body began to shake at his threats. I knew they were genuine. I’d seen them first hand. He shifted, tightening his grip. My vision swam. I could feel his burning breath against my lips and I knew that he wanted to taste my mouth again, but the dangerous kiss never came. It took me a moment to realize that I could breathe normally again and that his weight was gone. He had vanished, leaving only a lingering hint of his power behind with the stink of sulfur.



Samael’s appearance had been disturbing, leaving a deep chill in my bones that refused to dissipate. I’d stood for hours with my forehead pressed against the cool window pane in an attempt to dispel the fever his presence had caused. I watched as the night sky slowly began to change its color from midnight black to deep indigo and, finally, lightening to a pale blue as the darkness receded into the horizon, escaping again, west as the sun dominated the sky. The city below awoke, the people emerging from their dens to start a new day. I sighed, expelling the air from my lungs, and shook my head at their ignorance. A new day was dawning, bringing with it a monotonous existence for them. And here my day had long since begun, and there was no chance of the monotony I had become so fond of.

Samael’s words replayed themselves, a continuous loop.

‘A soul preparing to transcend,’ his slippery tongue had hissed. ‘It must not reach fruition.’

I ran a solitary finger along the glass, tracing a path of rainwater.

‘You will do as you are told, like the good little girl you are - ‘

“Like a puppet on a string,” I whispered to the rain.

I had never been asked to destroy a soul before, only to corrupt them, to turn them, to bring them to the side of darkness so that the Master could collect them. But, no matter how many times I ran it over in my mind, I could not figure out why this one might be so important. Why would it need to be destroyed?

‘Abaddon’

Hell.

Damnation.

Why did I care?

It wasn’t my job to understand; only to carry out the orders I was given.

I needed to find an escape from the torrent of thoughts, all the questions, before they got me into more trouble. Running my hands through my hair, I turned away from the windows and the breaking dawn, and padded back to my bedroom. I dressed carelessly, pulling on faded, tattered jeans with the wrinkled button down I'd slept in and a pair of worn sneakers, before leaving the sanctity of my apartment and finding myself on the streets below. I dropped a few coins into the empty cup of a homeless man sitting on the corner as I passed. He was invisible to the rest of the mass surging around him. That was the epitome of life now; so busy with their vanity, putting on airs as they bustled past what could have been their very salvation simply because they thought he was beneath them. Humans truly were, and had always been, the least intelligent creatures on the face of the planet. Thinking back I could remember a time, in my distant past, when there had been so few - after the waters had receded… after the boat had been emptied. Now, there was something along the lines of 6.5 billion people walking the face of the planet, with over 500,000 of them walking my city. And, apparently, a good majority of them were walking around at the same absurd hour in the morning.

And, unlike me, most of them seem to have remembered umbrellas.

The rain was relentless, and I was soaked before I’d made it across the street from my apartment building.

The coffee shop I frequented near Pikes Place was overcrowded. People crammed into nearly every corner calling out orders, more than a dozen voices trying to be heard over a dozen more and the Muzak droning from the speakers. My ears were ringing from the noise before I even stepped through the door. The nagging thoughts that had been attempting to drown me were settled as my senses attuned to my surroundings. The pungent smell of coffee was sweet, dry, and heavy in the air, mingling with cocoa and caramel, sugary pastries and rising breads.

An older man in a flannelled shirt, looking as out of place as I did among the early-morning suits, stepped in beside me with a gentle smile and a discreet glance at where my rain-drenched top clung to my skin. I returned his smile with one of my own as I plucked casually at the material, stretching it tighter across my breasts. My nipples were hard from the chill rain and I’d neglected a bra in my haste to escape my apartment. The old man’s eyes widened and he quickly looked away, and so did I. It wasn’t lost on me, though, when he looked back. Human beings could always be expected to be two things, cowards and perverts. That was never going to change. There were a few others around the room taking in my dampened appearance. I lifted my hands to my hair, pulling the thick, wet strands away from my skin and exposing the long line of my neck. A dimpled smile pulled at the corners of my lips and I arched my back in a languid stretch. I now had several of the patrons’ undivided attention.

More importantly, I gained one of the barista’s attentions.

I let my smile widen and shot the young woman a wink.

I began making my way through the thick cluster of people in front of the counter, brushing my wet body as closely to some of the other patrons as I could, taking a moment to breathe against the back of one woman’s neck as I passed, my palm on her lower back. Her shiver ran up my fingertips as I continued to the front of the line. Nyk, the young barista whose attention I had captured, watched my approach; a blush infused her cafe au lait skin. I loved it when she blushed. It was one of the more endearing things about young women, always had been. She looked down at the counter, seeming to gather courage from the faux stone surface, before meeting my eyes and holding up a finger. She scampered off to the espresso machines with a smile. Nyk had been making my coffee every morning for the last three weeks; same time, everyday. I was early this morning, by several hours, and still she was here. I liked it. She was the only one who made my coffee right.

I vaguely heard the bell on the door chime over the din of the shop before my skin prickled. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. The smell of fresh earth and ozone filled the air. The sensations over-riding my senses were akin to the prelude of a lightning strike. I turned my attention to the crowd around me, searching it for the source of my discomfort, but all I could see were ordinary people… then the air breathed.

‘Jehona’

“Jehona,” Nyk recaptured my attention with a cough and handed me my coffee.

As I took the fragile cardboard cup from her a tiny spark leapt between us, her eyelids fluttered for a moment. The only thing I could hear in the crowded room became her quickening heartbeat. I could taste her on my tongue, her scent, sweet and overwhelming. I jerked my hand away, breaking the contact, spilling the coffee across the counter.

I ignored the hurt look in Nyk’s eyes, my attention focused on the scrap of paper that sat, soaking up coffee, on the counter.

I snatched up the scrap of paper and began making my way out of the small coffee shop with Nyk’s sweet sent still clinging to me. I’d had no intention of using my power on the girl, losing control of it had never happened to me before. The loss of control had taken me right back to Samael’s visit, and my impending fate. I stopped under the awning, carefully unfolding the scrap of paper and reading the spidery script.

Elisha

3307 3rd Avenue West

Noon