From Heaven To Earth (The Faith of the Fallen) Page 32

“Yes, angel,” she moaned, but he did not hear.

  He was lost in a desperate walkabout of passion. He searched relentlessly inside of her to discover the means to quench what she had ignited within him.

  “Let me finish on top of you,” she whispered. “You won’t be disappointed. I promise.”

  “Something feels so good...” Drean said. “I don’t want to stop.”

  “I know how to make it feel good, Drean. Let me.”

  Drean fell back on to the bed and let Riell climb atop him. She teased him for a moment with slow, gentle movements. He placed his hands on her curves and moaned.

  “It’s there again,” he said.

  “You haven’t felt anything yet,” she said.

  Riell put her hands on his sweaty, rigid chest and rode him. Riell slammed herself against him, again and again. Their love making escalated from a moderate clap to a rapid staccato.

  Drean’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he yelled.

  “Don’t stop!” he screamed.

  “Drean, no!” Riell yelled, except the voice came from behind Drean. Drean pulled out of the Riell in bed with him: his cognition had returned.

  In that instant Drean could perceive it was Marylza he had made love to. Panic was on his face. He knew what he had done, and he knew he had enjoyed it.

  “It matters not. You are mine,” she said.

  Something stung his shoulder. It ached for a moment and then seared him. He cried out.

  Marylza’s phosphorescent eyes smiled at him triumphantly, and he lost consciousness again.

  Chapter 44

  Riell threw open the sacrificial chamber doors and saw Marylza naked and atop Drean, her eyes half closed in ecstasy. Her right hand was poised above his chest and held a sacrificial dagger.

  Disbelief momentarily numbed her and left her speechless.

  “You’re too late,” Marylza grinned at her. “Your angel is mine.”

  Hatred brought Riell back to her senses.

  Riell’s eyes widened and her lips pursed. She stretched out her right hand. Her longbow materialized in it. She pulled back the drawstring with her left hand, and an arrow faded into view upon it. Riell let the arrow fly.

  Ran’nok roared, jumped off his throne and blocked the arrow’s path. He folded his wings around his body and hardened into sleek black stone. Riell closed her eyes and drew from her Inner. Her bow faded, and she telepathically assisted her arrow, which dramatically increased its velocity.

  “Die, angel,” Marylza stabbed downward with the dagger to pierce Drean’s heart.

  Her arrow tore through Ran’nok’s body, clanged against the dagger and moved its trajectory away from Drean’s chest. It penetrated his shoulder. His blood filled the dagger.

  Riell’s eyes burned with a purple glow. She dropped into her archery stance once again, and her bow appeared in her right hand.

  Ran’nok collapsed on the ground and crumbled into dust.

  Marylza ripped the blood filled dagger from Drean’s now pallid skin. She stood and covered herself with her wings. “If you had given yourself to him he would be yours, not mine!”

  Riell fired several arrows. Marylza laughed and vanished in a puff of perfumed smoke. Her arrows cut through the cloud and clanged against the wall near the throne.

  “Damn it,” Riell swore. “Drean!”

  She ran to him and felt his pulse. “He’s cold from blood loss... but alive.” She saw his clothes at the foot of the altar, picked up his shirt and tore it in half. She used the cloth to bandage his wound. “Drean, please wake up,” she cried.

  “Riell,” he murmured, his eyes snapped open and closed again.

  “No, Drean! Look at me! Look into my eyes!”

  He fought to keep his eyes open. “Forgive me. I wasn’t strong enough.” He looked into her eyes.

  He’s so ashamed. that succubus will die for this.

  “Forget that! You have to heal yourself!” Riell yelled at him.

  “I can’t.”

  “You have to, Drean! Don’t let yourself die like this!” she shouted.

  “No, I don’t deserve it. I enjoyed it. I want her still. My body is yearning for her.” He coughed, and his eyes rolled back into his head. His skin was hot and sweaty.

  “No! No! I need you Drean. Come back to me!” Riell held him close. “I need you!” She sobbed into his chest.

  Drean’s gaping wound closed, and his skin regained its color. Soon dried blood was all that was left of the wound. He shook violently and frothed at the mouth.

  “It’s ok, you’re just going into withdrawal from the succubae’s magic. It should pass.”

  Loud, rapid footsteps from the hall encroached on them. Riell stood up, her longbow materialized in her right hand. She took aim at the door.

  “Let them come. They won’t get through me,” she said as she pulled back the drawstring.

  “I came as soon as I...” Gerald ran into the room, panting. “I can’t believe I ran all the way here, wounded, just to see you two going at it.”

  Drean’s seizure shook him off of the table.

  Riell tried to hold him still.

  “Marylza got to him, didn’t she?” Gerald asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “How long has he been like this?”

  “In withdrawal? A few minutes. It will pass right?”

  Drean coughed, blood dripped from his mouth. She wiped his mouth.

  “No, not without help. She’s too powerful. Kiss him. Hurry. You have to try to dilute his lust for her with lust for you.”

  Riell ran her hands over his naked body. Drean’s seizure lessened. She kissed him from his stomach to his chest to his neck and on his mouth. She could taste blood and bile on his kiss when he kissed her in return.

  In that moment she knew without a doubt that she could not live without him by her side. She cared for him.

  He opened his eyes and saw her.

  “Are you ok?” she asked.

  He pulled her head down for another kiss.

  “Watchin’ you two is makin’ me horny,” Gerald said with a laugh.

  Drean blushed deeply and fumbled for his pants. Gerald put his hand on his shoulder.

  “I was kidding. And I’m sorry about Marylza.”

  “That was my fault. Not yours.”

  “She deserves something hard and sandpapery up her ass.” Gerald swore under his breath. “But first I’m going to kill Gri for his treachery.” His voice rose. “C’mon, we have to find him now. He had better have a good explanation for all of this if he wants a quick, painless death.” Gerald walked down the hall. Riell and Drean followed behind him.

  “So what are we going to do when we find him?” Drean asked.

  “You’re not very astute sometimes, kid. We’re going to kill him.” Gerald was resolute. “In fact I think we’re going to skip interrogating him and just get right to the killing part.” He nodded.

  “I’m inclined to agree with you on this, Gerald,” Riell said.

  “Don’t we need his help?” Drean continued.

  “We can find another way to get to Hell,” he answered.

  “Kill me? You need me. We have much to speak about and no time to spare.” Grizaltus’s voice echoed around them.

  Gerald swore as he faded from view.

  “Gerald!” Drean noticed that Riell was vanishing as well. “Riell, no!”

  He looked down at his own hands. They were translucent. Then the hall faded from view and was replaced by the study of Grizaltus.

  “Now, Gerald, calm down,” Grizaltus said.

  A black robe covered Grizaltus’ head and his hulking figure. He sat on a dark leather couch in the middle of the room.

  Gerald hovered above the couch amidst oriental style lanterns that hung from the ceiling. He yelled and flapped his wings wildly to escape the telekinetic hold of Grizaltus, who did not take his eyes from his television.

  Against the wall to the left of the television, was a long lab desk w
ith several shelves of bottled ingredients on it. Some of these included: vagaru scales, exous stomach acid, fallen angel feathers and jars of different colored blood. All of these were labeled in demonic.

  Shelves along one side of his desk were stuffed with rolled up scrolls that contained instructions for complicated summoning rituals.

  An open notebook sat on the desk with a jar of ink next to it. A quill protruded from the jar.

  An open book titled: “Putting the Soul in Soulfood” was to the right of the notebook. Wall scrolls of geishas hung on every wall.

  “No! Kill him, kill all the half-breeds! They defied us!” Grizaltus’ high, nasally voice made Riell cringe.

  “Zaltus, remember our agreement,” Grizaltus said in a normal octave.

  “I see how it is, warlock! Letting Zaltus control you these days?” Gerald spat.

  “Enough!” Grizaltus released Gerald from his hold, and the domination thumped against the wooden floor of the study.

  “Fine. I’ll listen to what you have to say.” Gerald stood up and rubbed his head.

  Grizaltus stood, snapped his fingers, and the TV muted. He turned to Riell and Drean.

  Drean’s widened as he took in Grizaltus’ appearance.

  His face looked human, but he had the hulking black, scaled body of a bal’duz. His head was too small for his body and blond patches of hair poked from it. Horns jutted out of his upper back and shoulders. One of his eyes burned with a crimson light and his other was blue. His robe had an open front exposing his scaly chest. Bands of cloth that held the robe on his body stretched across his chest forming an X.

  “You can speak to them, but make it quick.” Grizaltus’ nasally voice came back again. Black scales covered his face.

  “I am Gri, the warlock,” he said, his voice normalized once again. “My human counterpart is Zaltus, a sorcerer, but we don’t have time to talk of my past. You can refer to me as Gri, or Grizaltus if you choose to.” He walked to Drean and held out his hand.

  “Drean.” Drean introduced himself and gripped Gri’s hand tightly. The demon’s hand sizzled, but he held on to Drean’s hand until the angel released his own. “Aren’t you a little small for a bal’duz?”

  “Bal’duz is in my blood. I am of mixed descent. Seeking vengeance I see?” Gri asked.

  “Should I not? I’ll let you explain yourself, demon. But, it doesn’t mean I will forgive you for anything you’ve done to me or my friends.”

  “I did nothing but offer you choices, Drean. You were the one that chose.”

  Drean looked to the ground.

  “Miss Riell, Azuleophis told me about you.” He held his hand out to her. Riell stared back at Gri with her hand on the pommel of her sword.

  “Right. Well come and sit. We have much to speak about.” Gri sat back on the couch. When no one moved he turned to them. “There’s more than enough room.”

  Drean and Riell hesitantly walked over to the couch and sat as far away from Gri as they could. Gerald sat right by the warlock and stared at him.

  “Where to begin.” Gri thought for a moment.

  Drean’s eyes drifted to the television.

  “No. Pay attention to me, Drean.” Gri snapped his fingers and the TV blipped off. “That will come later.”

  Drean’s eyes moved back to Gri. He had best have information extremely prevalent to my mission. A white light involuntarily flared in Drean’s eyes. Or I will turn him to ash where he sits.

  Gri ignored Drean’s silent threat. “Zaltus and I discussed your group’s coming at some length, and in the end we decided that you would be tested while you were here,” he said.

  “I knew it,” Riell said and sighed.

  Drean’s gaze drifted to the floor. Riell wrapped her arms around him in an attempt to comfort him.

  Try not to be so down on yourself, Drean, Riell thought at him. Your trial was unfair.

  Drean pulled away at this.

  It was not unfair! he thought back at her.

  “Two of you passed. One of you did not.” Gri regarded Drean sympathetically. “I’m sorry for your loss, son. Zaltus saved the harshest trial for you,” Gri said.

  “It’s going to take much more than an apology to make him feel better,” Riell said, her hand still on her sword.

  Drean looked up at Gri and narrowed his eyes. “Save your pity for someone who needs it, demon.”

  “What’s done is done,” Gri said to the both of them. “Move on and learn from this.”

  “It’s easy for you to say that,” Drean said and looked back down at the floor.

  “Indeed, and if you do not come through on your end you can be sure that I will not rest until my sword has pierced your heart,” Riell said to Gri.

  “Zaltus doesn’t have much faith in your ability to carry out your mission I’m afraid,” Gri said to Drean, and ignored Riell’s comment. “Nor does he enjoy the notion of an angel saving us all.” Gri’s face rippled. “No, let me talk, Zaltus, or the deal is off.” The rippling ceased.

  “We aren’t ready then,” Riell mused out loud. Her anger faded and hopelessness replaced it.

  “No on the contrary. You three should be able to reach Hell without fail,” Gri said excitedly. “You may even survive the decent.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” Riell said.

  “You’ll be ready when the time comes.”

  Gri snapped his fingers and the TV blipped back on. A blond anchorwoman sat behind a news desk on the screen. “Are you all aware of what’s been happening in the outside world while you’ve been here?”

  “No,” Riell said.

  “How could we?” Gerald asked. “Been trying to save our own skins in here.”

  Gri’s face became half-human. “How would they is right. Stupid half-breeds,” Zaltus chimed in.

  “Forgive my other half,” Gri said. “As I said, he has no love for celestials, demons or half-breeds.”

  “Only abhorrence,” Zaltus finished. “The undead are rising up. They have nowhere to go without the judgment of a God in Heaven.”

  Riell drew in a quick breath.

  I should have finished the bishop off when I had the chance. If he gets out of the cathedral... she thought.

  “Just listen to this newscast.” Gri snapped his fingers and un-muted the TV.

  “We’ve been getting reports all evening of strange supernatural occurrences. The images you are about to see are real,” the anchorwoman said.

  The feed cut to a teenager on the front porch of his home.

  “Oh my God, yes. I saw my dead grandpa walking around the house! He’s sitting in the kitchen now!”

  “Can we see him?” a reporter asked.

  “Yeah, he’s just in there playing with our cats! It’s so freaky!” The boy walked into his home, and the news crew followed.

  The hall beyond the door was dark. Only a dim blue light shone from underneath a door further down it.

  “Oh the suspense is killing me,” Riell said, she rolled her eyes. “We already knew about these occurrences.”

  “Oh?” Gri asked.

  “Yeah, after Leoran appeared in The Park,” she said.

  “You mean this park?” Gri moved his right hand over the television screen, and the feed fast-forwarded. He snapped his fingers, and the video feed moved at a normal pace again. An aerial view of the park was on the screen. The camera moved over the area where Shrazz and Gerald had fought, and Riell lost all words.

  “That crater looks much bigger on TV,” Gerald said. “It’ll be interesting as to what story they’ve come up with. A terrorist bombing; plane crash maybe?”

  “Even more horrifying than these mysterious ghosts is the attack on the park by half-breed demons,” the anchorwoman cut in.

  “Or, half-breed... demons?” Gerald said. “I don’t believe it.”

  “How did they find out?” Riell asked.

  “Just keep watching,” Gri said.

  The feed cut to skia fighting skia, then Veri
ll feasting on angel wings and Gerald and Shrazz fighting above the park. It cut again and showed Gerald burning and falling from the sky. He hit the ground near where the cameraman stood.

  “The fall of one of these demons caused the crater you see here,” the anchorwoman said. “But the fire that damaged the forest beyond it was caused by something else. The image we’re about to show you is not for the faint of heart.”

  The feed cut again. Shrazz’s monstrous head, post-transformation, filled the screen. He roared and expelled fire. The camera panned over a burning section of the forest.

  “Even more shocking was how this forest fire was extinguished,” she continued.

  The feed cut to a still picture of Leoran in the body of Dejanto.

  “When this man appeared the fires ceased. It would have taken the fire department days to put out this blaze according to the fire chief.”

  The feed cut to a close up of Dejanto’s face. “I am He, I am the Lord,” he said.

  “Could this be the second guise of Christ? His statement and the fire’s disappearance are the only signs that point to this inference.”

  The charlatans put that fire out. Why would they even insinuate that Leoran extinguished the flames? She shook her head in disbelief.

  “I don’t believe it,” Drean said.

  “What?” Gerald asked.

  “Was this news story covered by worldwide stations?” Drean asked.

  “Something like this concerns everyone, humans and half-breeds alike. I’m sure it was, Drean,” Gri said. “It’s going to change everything for our kind.”

  “Leoran has already set up everything in his favor then,” Drean said. “If he diverts the Faithstream the faith of these people could easily fall into his grasp if their allegiance can be swayed by acts such as these.” Drean motioned at the television.

  “I’m not so sure he deceived them,” Gri said. “In times as dark as these we look for excuses to declare miracles that point to the arrival of a savior. You will need to expedite your journey to Hell,” Gri said. He snapped his fingers, and the television turned off.

  “It will change everything for us,” Riell said. “When the Falling Curtain sees this I don’t know what they’ll do. Paranoia is going to break loose on both human and half-breed fronts.”