Touched by Death: (Sins of The Fallen book 3)
Touched by Death: Chapter 22

A loud spark in the fireplace draws my attention. Amenadiel falls down onto Lucifer’s desk chair like he’s the king of his domain and kicks his feet up on the desk. Ankles crossed, he flashes a smile that showcases his sharp canines. “I always wondered what it felt like to sit behind my brother’s desk—the seat of power. I must admit, I’m disappointed.”

“Get your fucking feet off,” Daemon growls, shoving them to the floor with a swipe of his hand. “Don’t get comfortable.”

I scan the large bookshelves behind the desk. Old books with cracked leather spines take up every inch of the sagging shelves. A large painting of Lucifer hangs on the wall to my left, his dark eyes seemingly following me as I walk the length of the room. It smells of him in here—his spicy cologne and the smokey remnants of his signature hellfire. A leather couch sits beneath the windows, which are draped in heavy, moss-green curtains. I wonder briefly how many women he’s fucked on it, and how many powerful male angels have feared for their life while sweating their balls off beneath Lucifer’s scrutiny. He’s never been a stranger to murder and torture.

“You need to locate my brother and Genesis. Don’t let her out of your sight. When we replace the angel and release her from the shadows, she’ll once again regain control of the darkness inside her.” Amenadiel waves a hand in the air dismissively. “At least that’s the best outcome.”

“And the worst outcome?” I ask, dreading the answer.

Amenadiel lets his dark eyes skate across the room to where I stand by the window, silhouetted by the moonlight. “Well, that’s hard to say. In order to return, she needs to fight the darkness inside her first.” The chair creaks as he sits forward and places his elbows on the desk. “Make no mistake, this version of Genesis was born from the shadows. Aurelia is still that innocent little angel who escaped Eden.”

“Can you speak English?” I snarl. “We’re running out of time.”

Another spark shoots from the fireplace. The left side of Amenadiel’s mouth pulls up. “Aurelia is still an angel deprived of the light. This battle, if you want to call it that, is a battle of the soul. In order to survive, she must leash the darkness inside her and bring it to heel. Genesis, on the other hand, pats it like a tame tiger.”

“Why’s that?” Alaric asks, uncrossing his arms. “How can she be so powerful when Lucifer killed her that day?”

“Because she is of the shadows. Lucifer killed the light inside of Genesis. Without light, only darkness remains. Come on, it’s not rocket science. Adjusting to the darkness takes time.”

“This is your fault,” I mutter, and he cuts his eyes to me. “If you hadn’t tried to lure her darkness to the surface to replace Genesis, none of this would have happened.”

“Is that so?” He rises to his feet, the chair scraping across the floor. Rounding the desk, he homes in on me like a predator zeroes in on their prey. “Are you telling me you never toyed with her darkness?”

My gaze flits to Daemon, but soon returns to Amenadiel when he continues in that taunting drawl of his that’s edged with smoke and danger. “Never tried to lure it to the surface? Never tossed her a bone to see if she bites?”

“Shut up,” I hiss, squeezing my eyes shut on the images flashing through my mind of Daemon fingering Aurelia while she was tied to the bed.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He’s too close; I can sense the shift in the air right before the soft brush of his calloused fingers graze my cheekbone as he tucks my hair away. “You’re a creature of Hell, sweetheart. We’re hardwired to feel drawn to the darkness. It seduces us and lures us deeper into its clutches.”

I open my eyes and reach up to swipe his hand away. “Let’s just get her back.”

Scanning his cold, brown eyes over my face, he inches closer. The urge to step back seizes me in its iron grip. It takes everything in me to stay rooted to the spot in the light of his domineering presence.

“You can’t let your emotions rule you, Dari. Not anymore. Genesis is cunning. She has taken her time studying you all in turn and replaceing your weaknesses.” He leans in and lowers his voice. “Do you know what that means, Dari?”

My throat jumps, and I shake my head softly.

“It means that she’ll weaponize your emotions and use them against you.”

“I think we need to worry about not getting slaughtered,” Alaric says, perusing the bookshelf. He looks over his shoulder and adds, “She did kill Daemon’s guard, after all. What’s stopping her from killing us when we replace her?”

“Nothing,” Amenadiel admits, and I look up at his side profile as he peers over his shoulder at Alaric. “But she would have already done it.”

Dmitriy throws himself down onto the leather couch, stretching his arm across the back. “What does she want?”

Chuckling, Amenadiel drags a hand across his mouth. His scent invades my nostrils, warm and heady as he shifts to the side. “She wants to kill my brother and me; there’s zero doubt about that. But unless you’ve noticed, the darkness feeds on chaos and destruction. What does that tell us?”

“That it’s a bad idea to fuck your brother’s female behind his back?” Alaric quips, lighting up a cigarette and tossing the lighter to Ronan across the desk.

I scrunch up my nose. “You fucked Aurelia behind Daemon’s back, remember? Or have you conveniently forgotten?”

“That’s not the same thing.” Alaric takes a drag, holds it in his lungs while watching me, then blows it out to the side. “Daemon knew.”

“How could I not? You reeked of her, and you didn’t even try to hide it. You’re fucking lucky I didn’t cut your dick from your body,” Daemon mutters, walking over to the window behind me. He shifts the curtain aside to peer outside.

“I figured we don’t keep secrets from each other.”

“It’s never too late to castrate you,” Daemon warns, letting the curtain fall back into place before turning around and pinning his impatient gaze on Amenadiel. “What are we waiting for?”

Spinning back around, Amenadiel looks at me pointedly. “Don’t fall for Genesis’s tricks. Even when you think Aurelia is back, be careful. Don’t try to lure her shadows to the surface until she’s regained her strength. We don’t know what the hell she’s been subjected to while locked away in the dark.”

“The stalker?” I ask, a lump forming in my throat. “You think he got to her?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Daemon growls, striding past us. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Amenadiel watches him pace like a caged circus animal, and then he looks back at me and clasps my shoulder. “Keep your wits about you.”

His touch burns me in the most curious way possible. The man in front of me has always been an enemy, yet now, I see something flicker to life in his cold eyes—a glimmer of light. I frown, leaning in closer for a better look, but he drops his hand, steps back, and motions for the rest of us to leave the room. “Go replace Genesis.” With a shake of his head and a soft chuckle, he scratches behind his ear. “I never thought I’d say this, but make sure my brother is safe.”

DAEMON

As the door clicks shut, I look back at Amenadiel, wondering how the hell I found myself in this situation—alone with my father’s archenemy. They say blood runs thicker than water, but as I approach the desk where he stands with his hands in his pockets and a small curve to his lips—the physical similarities between us undeniable—I wonder what his ulterior motive is. I learned early on that my uncle does nothing out of goodwill. There’s always a plan where he is concerned.

“Before we enter through the veil,” I say, keeping my voice level. “Let’s get one thing straight. Aurelia is mine. I don’t care what games Genesis has played behind the scenes, how many hearts she’s caught in her web. Aurelia belongs to me. I will kill anyone who tries to challenge me.”

“You’re bonded by hellfire.” Amenadiel removes his hand from his pocket to knock his knuckles on the desk. “Nothing short of death will see that bond severed.”

My brows pull low as he holds my gaze unwaveringly. When he walks past me like a lazy cat on the prowl, I blurt, “Is that a threat?”

Wings trailing over the floor, he slowly spins around. “It’s a statement, Daemon. Take it as you will, pup.”

Snarling, I fist my hands while he turns to face me. There’s a time and place to be ruled by my instincts, and now is not the time. I need him in one piece to take me through the veil. And while I’m sure I could inflict some damage on my uncle, I’m not stupid. He’s ancient and harbors more power in his pinky than I do in my entire body. Unlike him, I’m not yet powerful enough to enter through cracks in the veil. But I meant it when I said I’d kill him if he decided to challenge me for Aurelia.

“What do we do now?” I ask, watching him closely, unable to shake the sense of distrust I feel around him.

“I need your flame.”

“Excuse me?” I scrunch up my face. “What the fuck?”

“I need your flame,” he repeats matter-of-factly, looking bored.

“What the fuck for?”

“Well, you’re not powerful enough to enter through the veil on your own, so we need to combine hellfire.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

I blink at my uncle. “No, you don’t. But it’s not that simple. It’s fucking dangerous, for starters. We can’t combine flames with just anyone.”

“Look…” He walks back over, crosses his arms, and leans his hip against the desk. “Do you want to save the girl or not?”

“Yeah, bu—”

“No fucking ‘buts.’ You either combine your flame with mine, or she stays lost.”

“Shit…” I run my hand through my hair. “Fuck, okay… What do I do?”

“So…” He straightens up and uncrosses his arms. “Cracks in the veil can rarely be seen, but they can be felt.”

“How?” I ask, intrigued.

Scanning his eyes across the room, Amenadiel mulls over the answer. “It’s hard to explain. Let’s call it a disturbance, or a weakness in the energy field.”

“That’s stupid.” I snort. “You don’t expect me to buy this shit, right?”

“I don’t care what you believe,” he replies. “When Aurelia escaped Eden, it created a crack in the veil when the gates opened. Why? Because Light and Dark are opposite forces. Think of it like a thunderstorm. What happens when the hot air collides with the cold air?” He mimics an explosion. “Boom.”

“Okay…” Impatient, I gesture for him to continue. “And then what?”

“The crack in the veil allowed me to enter Aurelia’s dreams and maneuver my way around the maze that’s her mind without her knowledge.”

“And how did you know about the crack? You said you sensed it?”

“I did,” he confirms. “The first time I laid eyes on her at the academy, when I descended the stairs, remember? I felt it then, and it made me curious.”

I stare at the dying flames in the fireplace, the heat warding off the cold nip in the air. Thoughts swirl in my head. “How come my father hasn’t entered through the crack?”

Amenadiel snorts a laugh. “Your father, while he likes to think he’s always a step ahead of the threats around him, is too blinded by power to notice much of anything.” His tongue darts out, and he looks at me for a brief moment before asking, “Are you ready?”

With a shrug, I hold my hand out and let a small flame flare to life on my palm. Flickering wildly, it dances. My uncle holds his hand over mine, searching my face, intently. “It’ll hurt. Nothing about this forging will be natural. Whatever you do…” A flame flickers to life, spreading across his palm like wildfire. “Don’t let go.” Then he grabs my hand, and I grit my teeth against the explosion of white-hot pain that sears through my veins in a race toward my hammering heart. My pupils dilate, and my jaw clenches tight as I fight back a guttural roar. Amenadiel is no better off, gripping my hand so tightly, it won’t surprise me if he breaks bones. But that pain fades in comparison to the agonizing torture of Amenadiel’s flame burning a path through my soul.

Collapsing to the floor, our eyes meet. In that brief moment, bonded by fire, I understand every decision—right or wrong—he’s ever made. I see his internal struggle with living in my father’s shadow. I even see the battle between light and dark that’s existed within him since the moment he exited Hell. Despite what he wants the world to believe, a drop of Light still clings to his heartstrings, refusing to part with his charred soul. Determined to eliminate his biggest weakness, Amenadiel has tried everything to relinquish it, without luck.

I know he sees me, too—the torture my father has inflicted upon me throughout the years. Every cruel thing I’ve ever done.

But more than anything, I know he sees the little witch and the imprint she’s left on me, like a tattoo on my heart.

One I can’t part with.

Just as soon, our attention gets diverted by an incoming thick mist. Rolling across the stone floor, it devours everything in its path, slowly slithering over the cracks. Closer and closer.

“Holy fuck,” I whisper. At the same time, the flames in the fireplace flicker out. An icy chill licks at the exposed skin on my arms as the temperature in the room rapidly drops. “You never said it’d be like this.”

“What did you expect? Rainbows and roses?”

“I don’t fucking know, but this is creepy.”

“Welcome to Hell, where the fun never ends.”

I squeeze my eyes shut when the mist rolls over us—damp and cold, like a dewy morning breeze in autumn.

Releasing my hand, Amenadiel jumps to his feet, and I open my eyes to see him dusting off his thighs. I push up to my knees and scan the town square. A cherub fountain sits in the middle, the water long since gone. Everywhere I look, I’m met with derelict, boarded-up shops and pubs. Weeds grow through the cracks in the pavement, and near the fountain lies an abandoned bike, the front wheel still spinning.

“Welcome to the world of the little witch. It’s a very unpredictable environment, so don’t get comfortable.”

I blink at him, at a loss for words. One quick scan of the town square has shivers tickling a path down my spine like caressing fingertips tracing each vertebra. A lineup of colorful, but weathered doors to my left catches my attention.

Beside me, Amenadiel chuckles. “Don’t look so surprised. You’ll soon learn that Aurelia has a thing for doors.”

“Why doors?”

“Beats me, but look on the bright side. At least we don’t have to cross a body of water or a tightrope.”

“So what are they?”

Tugging at the lapels, Amenadiel straightens his long coat. “In my experience, they lead to her dreams. If she’s asleep, that is.”

“And if she’s not?”

A look of mischief crosses his face, and he shrugs. “Fantasies mainly.”

My jaw turns to granite. “Fantasies? You spied on her fantasies?”

“Well, daydreams. Thought forms. Whatever. This is her mind, Daemon.” He waves a hand to the lineup of doors. “You can replace anything behind those doors.”

I scan the town square again and do a double take when my attention snags on the bike.

It’s leaning against the fountain.

“There are inconsistencies, too.”

My throat jumps, and I look back at my uncle. “So, how do I replace her here?”

Amenadiel studies me for a long moment, assessing me with cold, scrutinizing eyes. “You’re the hunter, according to your friends. Hunt her.”

“This is fucking crazy,” I breathe out, dragging a hand over my mouth while staring at my uncle. “Something about this isn’t right. You’re powerful enough to enter through a crack in the damn veil, but you can’t replace her once you’re here?”

Sucking on his teeth, he looks mildly annoyed as he walks over to the doors. “Using my powers and hunting for lost females trapped by the darkness are two different things entirely. One skill grows with age, the other by sheer foolishness. You’re more like your father than you realize.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, taken aback as I walk up behind him.

He tries a door, but it’s locked. “You both like challenges where the female species is concerned. Don’t tell me you hunt for fun.” He flashes a smile over his shoulder. “You hunt for sexual gratification.”

Shaking my head, I scoff, but he ignores me completely as he continues, “Your father, on the other hand, takes it to the extreme.” He tries another door, rattling the handle. “Boredom is a cloak your father has worn since the Light spat him out. No matter where he is—surrounded by pussy, riches, and depravity—nothing brings him excitement. Not anymore. If ever.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, moving to the next door in line. “But I do know one thing…” His lips spread into a smile. “This door is open.”

“What will we replace on the other side?”

“I don’t know, but we’re about to replace out. Unless, of course, you want to stay here?”

I look behind me at the parked bike, the mist swirling on the cobblestones. “No…” Turning back to him, I jerk my chin in the direction of the weathered door. “Let’s do this.”