Angel in the Middle

Marie Dees

Published 2011

ISBN 978-1-59578-853-5

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509

Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2011, Marie Dees. All rights
reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise,
without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books

http://LSbooks.com

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Editor

Jean Cooper

Cover Artist

LW Perkins

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of

the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual
events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Blurb

When Darius, the most naïve angel ever bounced out of Heaven, falls from grace and

lands in Ybor City, Florida, he finds himself caught in a power play between Heaven and
Hell. In desperation, he realizes he must follow the advice of Tribal, a fallen angel turned
demon. Tribal advises Darius to seduce the demon hunter coming after him as a way to
avoid going to Hell. But how can an angel, who has never experienced sex, seduce
Franco, the big bad demon hunter, and just what does Tribal stand to gain by playing
Cupid?

Chapter One

Franco stepped aside as a second police officer flew out of the alley and hit the side

of the Hummer with a thud. The man slid to the sidewalk and lay unmoving beside his
partner. The rest of the Atlanta street crowd had become invisible. Franco knew they’d be
watching the street, but no one wanted to be found nearby when something started
tossing cops out of an alley.

The smell of cheap rum in the air hinted at what had tempted this one from Hell.

Booze, not sex. After all, he’d just thrown away two perfectly acceptable cops, but then,
Franco always appreciated a man who supplied his own cuffs.

Opening the back of the Hummer, he studied his options. The alley was too narrow

to swing the sword. He considered the crossbow. Nah, for this one—he pulled a half-
empty bottle of Maker’s Mark out of the SUV. The liquid glowed like gold as he held the
bottle up. Well, the job did demand sacrifices. He gave the unconscious officers a quick
salute with the whisky and strode into the alley.

The demon loomed halfway down a narrow space cluttered with garbage from

overturned cans and ripped trash bags. “Do you know who I am, mortal?” it bellowed.

Franco removed the top from the bottle and made a show of taking a swig. The scent

of the whisky helped to mellow the reek of the alley. He wiped his mouth with the back
of his hand and studied the creature. It could almost have passed for one of the homeless
with its greasy skin and ragged bits of clothing. Except the homeless weren’t eight feet
tall with leathery wings. Damn, if this one took to the air, he’d need the crossbow.

“Nope, who are you?” They never gave their real names, and he never understood

the priests who expected them to. Franco edged forward. He’d been hoping this was just
a minor imp to send back down to his work in the pits; then he’d be off for a night at The
Heretic. Instead he had a high-ranking demon on a binge. There was one name on the
latest list. He just hadn’t expected to run across him so soon.

“Lucifer, cast down from the Heavens. Look on me and despair.”
Not that high ranking. Franco tilted his head and stepped forward, as if he needed to

get a closer look. “Nope, don’t think so. Luc’s a good-looking fellow.” He took another
step, holding the bottle out in front of him. The creature’s gaze moved to it. “His hair
isn’t greasy, and he doesn’t have boils.”

With a roar, the demon made a swing for the whisky. Franco pulled back, letting the

bottle drop onto one of the half-empty trash bags. The demon lunged for it.

Franco caught him by one ear. “By your name, Gressil, I bind you where you stand.”

The demon howled, and Franco tweaked the ear. “Thought so.” He’d only had time for
one guess, but this had to be Gressil, the demon of sloth and indolence. Any other demon
of his rank would have torn the street apart. Gressil had hunkered down in an alley to get
drunk. “See, I’ve met Lucifer. Made a bargain with him once. It went something like
this—I don’t go to Hell if you do.” The agreement also meant he was provided with the
names of any free-roaming demons. The priests would have been jealous. When it came
to demon hunting, they were freelancers. He was staff.

He tweaked the demon’s ear again. Even a lazy demon would object to being

returned to the pits. “By your name, Gressil, I send you back to your duties in Hell.”

The demon stretched out his hand, possibly in a plea for pity but more likely in an

attempt to reach the whisky bottle. Then the air sizzled around him and he vanished,
leaving nothing more than the odor of brimstone to mingle with the scent of spilled
whisky. Franco put his hand out and felt the static in the air where the demon had been.
The energy wrapped around his fingers and moved up his arm as part of the demon’s life
force became his. He stood for a moment, evaluating the change. “Hardly worth the
effort.”

He strode from the alley to find one of the cops stirring. Since he could already hear

the wail of approaching sirens, he checked the second officer to confirm that he was still
breathing, moved the first cop away from the Hummer’s wheels, and drove away. The
men had been lucky. Gressil ranked high in Hell’s power structure, but he was a lazy
demon without the motivation to do much in the way of real damage.

Franco noticed a few curtains flick as he drove down the deserted street. Tonight no

one would talk. By morning three different gangs would be claiming responsibility for
dropping the cops. And if he was lucky, he’d have a few days before the next assignment.

* * * *

Darius twitched his linen robe so that it covered the uncomfortable stiffness between

his legs and tried to focus on the song. If he didn’t look at the Seraphim, the discomfort
would fade. It had last time. If the Seraphim noticed his lack of attention to the song, he’d
be assigned to other duties. Serving the Seraphim was a demanding job. Most others took
breaks to buff armor for the Powers or run errands to those watching over earth. He only
served the Seraphim. He longed for nothing more than to be near them, to listen to them,
to sing with them.

He tried to lose himself in the song. When he opened his eyes to gaze on the nearest

Seraphim he noticed the pale hair, the elegant hands, and the shape of the thigh under his
robe. Darius shifted his position and rearranged his robe again.

Robes rustled as others shifted their positions, and for a moment, he worried that

someone had noticed his inattention. But the heads were facing away from him to where
Raguel stood, tall and stiff as one of the pillars, at the edge of the group. The Archangel’s
gaze moved over the room, and Darius looked away before it settled on him. He focused
on the rise and fall of the song and pushed all other thoughts aside. Raguel could see into
an angel’s mind and never went anywhere unless he was seeking those who’d
transgressed by thought or deed.

When he heard soft sighs, he dared to look around again. Raguel had departed.

Darius gathered his robes about him and fled. Raguel could cast out even one of the
Seraphim if he caught him with an impure thought.

As he walked through the golden light singing “Holy, Holy, Holy” to himself, he

decided he’d overreacted. After all, nothing had happened. He’d just sit further away
from the Seraphim next time so he wouldn’t be distracted. He’d focus on the holy
singing, and if Raguel showed up again, he would see that Darius was devout enough to
sing with the Seraphim.

“Hey, Choir Boy,” a voice called out. “Are you here to join the fun?”
Darius stopped. The path around him had changed. The familiar golden light had

dimmed, and the grass under his feet faded to a dull yellow brown. He spun around,
ready to retreat, but only gray fog swam behind him. Ahead of him stood a group of

angels wearing robes as gray as the fog. He stepped back. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.
I’ve walked too far.”

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t you, Blondie,” one said, moving nearer. He wore his

robe hitched up in the cord at his waist so one leg was bare. Darius tore his gaze away
before he committed an offense. The angel moved nearer. “Is it true what they say about
choir boys? That you can’t sing if you’ve even had an impure thought?”

“I’m not one of the Seraphim.”
The angel licked his lips. “So you do have impure thoughts. I can help with those.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Darius stammered.
“I saw you gaze at my leg. Would you like to see more?”
“No.” Darius stepped back, bumping into someone who stood behind him. A hand

grabbed his butt. He jumped in surprise and found himself in the arms of the first angel.

“Don’t be so eager to rush off, Choir Boy. We can teach you joys the Seraphim

know nothing about.”

“No.” He’d never measured himself against another angel before, but this one stood

a hand’s breadth shorter than he. He shoved him away. “This is not proper.”

He heard a laugh behind him, and someone grabbed his robe, stripping the loosely

draped linen from him. He whirled, and his hair flew into his face, blocking his vision.
He pushed it out of the way and grabbed for his robe, but the angel holding it tossed it to
another. The first angel stepped close, his gaze moving over Darius’s naked body. Darius
struck out with his fist, but the angel danced back, dodging the blow.

“Watch out, Blondie is getting angry. Wrath is one of the deadly ones, Choir Boy.

Feels good, doesn’t it? We’ll get you to lust in no time.” He tugged his robe up to his
waist, revealing his genitals. Darius stared at the thick, swollen penis. “Lust, Blondie, and
you’re the one causing it.”

Darius turned away from the sight, but that only brought him nose-to-nose with the

angel who’d been touching his bottom. That angel wrapped an arm around his neck and
touched his lips to Darius’s. Darius shoved him, and he fell back a step or two with a
smile. “Damn, but you are beautiful.”

“Almost good enough to be one of the Seraphim,” his original tormentor said. Darius

wanted to deny it, but knowing eyes met his. “Bet you even think about it. Pride. Another
deadly one. But lust, well, that one’s the most fun.” He reached down to stroke his thick
penis. His hand froze, and his eyes widened in horror. “No, not now. Not yet.”

Darius watched as his tormentor fled, only to see him stop as fire flared in the fog.

The angel spun around, eyes wide and his robe tangling around his legs. A fiery ring
surrounded the group, and the other angels bunched together, leaving Darius standing
alone. As the flames drew closer, he could make out the winged figures of the Powers,
the warrior angels who guarded Heaven itself, each holding a sword of flame. They threw
a wide band around the group, driving in stray angels from the fog.

Darius heard thunder and a yelp. He whirled to see a jagged crack in the brown

grass. The crack grew, snaking its way toward the clump of condemned angels. The
group split, shoving each other in their attempt to escape. One fell into the growing gap in
the firmament and vanished with a scream.

Flames lashed upward, and the ground beneath Darius moved, tilting him toward the

growing hole. He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled toward the Powers. He
needed to get close enough for them to see that his soul light still shone pure. He heard

another cry and looked over his shoulder to see one of the group that had been taunting
him tumble into the gap. His stomach heaved as the angel’s soul light flared into fire,
burning away his robes and wings. Darius lurched away from the growing hole. His
fingers dug into the firmament, and he shoved himself to his feet. He rushed toward the
holy warriors, skidding to a stop only when the nearest leveled a sword of flame at his
chest.

He fell to his knees and raised his hands. “Please. I was only lost.”
“To be lost is to fall.” The warrior pointed his sword toward the pit.
“No, please,” he begged. “I don’t know what I’ve done. I’ve not been judged.”
“Raguel has judged. All here have fallen.” The warrior stepped toward Darius, his

frown deepening as his gaze flicked over Darius’s shoulder.

Darius looked back and saw the three who had taunted him rushing toward him. For

a moment hope flared. They could explain that he’d only wandered off the path. He rose
and held his hands out to them, but they didn’t stop. The one with the hitched robe
shoved him, sending him skidding toward the warrior. Darius swung his arms, trying to
regain his balance. He saw the warrior raise the sword that would extinguish his soul
altogether. Then someone else slammed into him, sending him spinning.

The flame of the sword brushed past him as the warrior shifted his attention to his

attackers. Darius fell and rolled with the impact. He lay staring at the legs just inches
from him. He could see every detail of the straps of the warrior angel’s sandals as they
crisscrossed up the back of his muscular legs. He’d landed outside the ring of flame. The
others had meant to use him as a distraction to rush past the Powers. Instead, they’d saved
him.

His salvation was short-lived. Light flared as Raguel, tall and imperious, appeared.

His shoulders drew back as he looked down at Darius. Darius clasped his hands together
in a plea. But Raguel only frowned. Light crackled around the Archangel’s fingers.
Darius rolled to one side as the first bolt struck, then the second. They missed him, but he
felt the ground shudder beneath him as the firmament shattered. He fell in a rush of wind
and a roar of sound.

Chapter Two

Franco sat in a corner of the Heretic Bar with his chair tipped back and a bottle of

Corona in his hand. He’d changed in the Hummer to make sure he met the “leather night”
dress requirements. His chest was bare under a leather vest, and he’d left his dark hair
loose to fall to his shoulders. He expected to attract attention, and he wanted the action to
come to him. He raised the beer bottle and flexed a muscle.

A wide-eyed twink paused by his chair. “Wow, dude, you must have some workout

routine.”

“I wrestle demons for a living.” Franco let his gaze dismiss the boy. He wasn’t in the

mood for wide-eyed innocence, even fake innocence. Not tonight. The twink danced
away with a shrug.

A bit of wannabe rough trade swung near. “Wanna wrestle me?”
Franco snorted. Another twink, but with spiky blue hair and nipple rings twinkling

on his bare chest. The wannabe turned, revealing tribal tattoos shaped like wings on his
shoulders, and shimmied his hips down to the floor and back up. Tight jeans cupped a
perfect ass. The short, spiky hair wasn’t Franco’s preference, but the kid moved like a
professional. He looked over his shoulder and winked. “Come on, Big Guy, you know
you want me.” He raised his arms and humped back and forth to the beat. Franco
considered the offer.

And cursed when a fog settled over the scene, blocking out the music and hiding the

tribal tattooed kid behind a white veil. He took a swig of his Corona and waited. When
Raguel strode out of the mist, the hint of a sneer tweaked lips so perfect they could have
been chiseled by an Italian master. Franco sneered back. Raguel hadn’t approved of Da
Vinci or Michelangelo.

“Why do I always find you in places like this?” The angel held his white robe up off

the scuffed concrete floor and positioned himself so that he didn’t touch anything.

Franco dropped the chair down to four legs. He couldn’t tell Raguel that he

frequented these places in hopes of being left in peace with his mortal lust. He’d spent
seven hundred years doing both Heaven and Hell’s bidding, and Raguel’s sneers made
the opposition look appealing. “Just finished a job. Another one of the fallen claw his
way out of the pit?”

Raguel pointed a finger, and a figure took form in the air. Tall. Slim. Blond hair

down to his waist. Franco’s gaze moved down the fall of hair. He’d always been a sucker
for long hair. White mist covered the figure like a robe. The chest was flat and smooth.
Male. It was always hard to tell from the facial features. Raguel and his type didn’t grow
beards. Franco doubted they grew hair around their balls either. Not that he’d ever
figured out why they needed balls. Raguel certainly never put his to use. Prick wouldn’t
even show him a beauty like this unclothed. Franco studied the fading figure, drinking in
the unique light of his soul. “Doesn’t feel like one of the pit dwellers to me.”

“He fell.”
“Looks like he missed the target.” A demon who could mimic a human was

dangerous. One that still looked like the angel he’d once been was the worst sort.
“What’d he do to get kicked out?”

“Questioning is not your job. Hunting is. His name is Darius. Find him. Banish him.”
“Like I said, I just finished a job. You’re interrupting my rest period so this one will

be twice the agreed-upon rate.” Raguel paid in something more valuable than coin,
forgiveness for transgressions.

Raguel chuckled, surprising Franco. He’d never heard the Archangel laugh. “I find

you here, and you still think to redeem your soul? Twice, three times, what difference
will it make?” Raguel leaned over and put his hands on the table. “I lose patience with
you, Franco. You were a bad bargain then, and you still are. How long do you think to
hover between salvation and the pit?” He stood and wiped his hands with a look of
disgust. “Find the fallen one and banish him.”

Bastard wasn’t even going to tell him what he was up against. Raguel would be just

as happy if one of the damned dragged him down to Hell. He’d learned to gamble with
his soul long ago. “Twice the rate.”

“When I have confirmed the job is done.”
Ah, so he’d read him right. Something about this one had caught in Raguel’s craw.

Maybe he should have demanded three times the rate.

“And done quickly.”
“I hear and obey, oh master.” Raguel waited, staring at him. Franco raised his

Corona and gestured toward the dance floor. “I have plans for tonight.”

“Finish them.” Raguel gave him a final disapproving sneer before he turned and

vanished into the mist. At least the bar didn’t burst into flames. Franco often suspected
that Raguel had been involved in the fiasco at Sodom. Everyone was more liberal these
days.

He closed his eyes. Damn Raguel and his kind. They were so perfectly formed that

he couldn’t keep his body from reacting, but this time he pulsed with need for the blond.
Even that one’s soul light felt wrong for a demon. A dangerous hunt, but he didn’t plan to
begin with his cock pointing the way.

He opened his eyes. With a sensuous twist of his hips, the dancer with the tattoo

caught his attention again. “Whadaya say, Big Guy? Want some tribal action?”

Franco slapped a fifty on the table. “I don’t want to look at you. I don’t want to hear

you talk.”

Tribal tattoo opened his mouth, and Franco pulled back the fifty. Tribal shrugged and

closed his mouth. Franco dropped the fifty again. Tribal crossed his arms over his pierced
nipples and looked up at the ceiling. Franco slapped another fifty beside the first. Tribal’s
gaze flicked down at it.

Franco picked up the bills and held them out. “Look, you’re not the only talent here

tonight.”

Tribal pulled his lips into a pout. Franco didn’t move. With a sigh, the other took the

money, folded it, and tucked it into his jeans. Franco rose, grabbed him by the chain he
wore as a belt and headed to the back door of the bar. Tribal wove through the tables with
practiced ease that told Franco he shouldn’t have bothered with the second fifty. This one
liked being bossed around. Hell, he could have had him without any money at all. But
money kept the encounters from becoming personal.

The parking lot was barely lit. Franco led the way past a couple of men who were

busy groping each other to where he’d parked his Hummer in a quiet corner of the lot.
Tugging on the chain, he pulled Tribal around the far side of the truck. There he pushed

him against the metal and grabbed his jaw. “Remember, no talking.” Tribal raised his
eyebrows, opened his mouth, and wiggled his pierced tongue. The kid had more metal
than an appliance store. “All right, I’ll give you something to get you started.” He
loosened his grip and shoved his tongue deeply into Tribal’s mouth. He tasted of cheap
rum and coke. Franco pushed his tongue further in, taking in the taste.

Tribal didn’t gag or pull away. Instead he twisted to take in more tongue, his hands

already on Franco’s jeans, unzipping them. Franco grabbed the nipple rings and pulled
downward. With a slight moan of protest, Tribal slid down his front.

Franco closed his eyes. The image of the fallen one danced in front of him, catching

him by surprise. Whenever he envisioned Raguel, the figure stayed motionless in his
mind, Raguel’s expression showing distaste at being used even in another’s imagination.
Darius’s image danced, moving as Tribal’s body had moved in the bar.

Franco let out a sigh of appreciation as a warm, wet mouth closed over his cock. In

his mind, he seduced Darius, pulling him from his dance and kissing him. Darius tasted
of sweet honey mead, and his skin felt as smooth as silk. Franco tangled his fingers in
that blond hair and pushed him downward.

His hands clutched at Tribal’s spiked hair and pulled him tight against his crotch.

Franco felt the pressure of his tongue and the scrape of his teeth. He took a deep breath
and held it as Tribal sucked on him. Then he summoned the fallen one’s soul light. Now
he could feel long hair between his fingers and smell a hint of sandalwood in the oily air
of the parking lot.

Holding the smell in his mind, he loosened his grip. Tribal grunted a bit, but pulled

back on Franco’s cock slowly, sucking as he went. Franco let his breath out and then
shoved into him.

Tribal’s hand found Franco’s balls and cupped them. Franco bucked when he

pinched one. Then nails raked along the inside of his thigh, and he gasped. When Tribal
scratched the other thigh, Franco widened his stance, pulling his legs as far apart as his
jeans allowed. He let go of the spiky hair, and Tribal twisted to slip between his legs and
face his buttocks.

Tribal nipped one butt cheek, then slowly ran his tongue over the sensitive bite mark.

Franco found he was holding his breath in anticipation of the next move. He felt Tribal
shift position to other cheek. The tip of his tongue drew a slow circle, as if marking the
spot. Then the scrap of teeth and a quick bite. Franco’s cock quivered in the cool air. He
was tempted to use his own hands to finish while the other played with his backside. He
felt Tribal pull his butt cheeks apart, and gasped as a tongue slipped between them to
touch his puckered hole.

“Sweet mercy.” Franco leaned forward and braced himself against the truck. Tribal’s

tongue teased around the hole, wetting the area. Franco felt his muscles tighten in
anticipation. He’d never be the bottom to anyone’s top, but he doubted that was what
Tribal had in mind. He felt one slick finger pushing past his tight muscles and wiggling
inside him. He took a deep breath and rested his forehead against the cool metal of the
Hummer as Tribal probed upward to find the nub of nerves.

Finger still probing, Tribal shifted, squeezing between his legs to face him again.

Then his mouth closed over Franco’s cock while his finger stroked the prostate. Franco
felt his entire body vibrate. He fisted his hands against the truck and thrust. He heard a
dull thud as Tribal bounced against the metal of the door. But the other didn’t pull back.

He still expertly sucked and prodded. Franco bucked, his body falling under Tribal’s
control. His skin burned with desire. His hips thrust back and forth as if to a secret
rhythm. The lights of the parking lot swirled, and the figure of the fallen blond danced in
front of him.

He spilled into Tribal’s mouth in a long series of thrusts, lust emptying from him as

quickly as his seed was spent. He pushed away and rolled to one side, bare buttocks
pressing against the Hummer.

Tribal slithered up his sweaty body and met his eyes. He pulled the two fifties out of

his pocket and let them fall to the pavement. “My master says he will speak with you
when you find the fallen one. There will be payment for services rendered, of course.” He
leaned forward and pressed his lips to Franco’s. “You taste good, Big Guy.” Then he
vanished in a flash that left spots whirling in front of Franco’s face.

He stood there, with his jeans around his ankles, smelling the brimstone of Tribal’s

departure. Damn. If there’d been anything missing from this problem, it had just shown
up and fucked him. He picked up the bills, pulled up his pants up, and climbed into the
Hummer.

He’d been assigned to hunt a fallen one who looked like an angel. One Lucifer

himself took an interest in. And now a map lay on his dashboard. A map that hadn’t been
there when he’d gone into the bar. He picked it up. Ybor City. He’d be driving all night.
He and the devil might be in Georgia, but Darius was in Florida.

* * * *

The wind stopped, but the roaring continued somewhere behind him. Darius lifted to

his hands and knees. He reached out with one hand and touched the rough brick wall in
front of him as a tortured screech filled the air. He stayed where he’d landed, not wanting
to face his destruction. He could feel the ground pulse with the undercurrent of some sort
of demonic rhythm and bitter oily fumes stung his nostrils. He coughed and shook his
head. He knew they would come for him. Demons with claws and hooves who would
drag him off to torment him.

A light flared and a leafy smoke teased at his nostrils. He heard footfalls. Two

demons. One’s hooves clicked like claws on rock while the other made a softer sound.

“Look what dropped from Heaven. Come on, Angel, let me help you up.” The voice,

gentler than a demon’s voice should have been, came from just behind him, but the hands
that grabbed him and pulled him off the ground were large and strong. Darius’s hair fell
across his face, obscuring the sight of the demon.

“He’s naked,” a deep, gruff voice said.
“Well, I can see that. Poor thing. His knees are all scraped up, and I can’t even see

what the darlin’ looks like for all this hair.” When the demon brushed Darius’s hair back,
he didn’t protest. He was in Hell. It was too late to fight. “Now, honey, don’t you let
anyone tell you that hair down to the waist went out of style in the eighties. Men will pay
for a mane like that.”

“Depends on what he does with it.” The gruff voice sounded amused.
Darius stared at the demon who held him up with one thick arm. He didn’t

understand half of what she said or even half of what she was. No claws and hooves.
Instead a tight dress showed off a rounded figure with enormous breasts. A big pouf of
blonde hair streaked with orange swirled on her head, making her even taller than she

already was. She towered over him. Except … Darius sensed masculine energy. “You are
male?” He kept his voice soft, hoping not to offend.

“Honey, ain’t you ever seen a drag queen before? I’m Chitlin Grits—” The figure

snapped her fingers. “—the tastiest drag queen in Ybor City.”

“This is Hell?”
The other figure, a male demon with a brown stick of rolled leaves stuck in his

mouth, chuckled. “Close enough. Now we just have to wait for Miss Chitlin to decide
what she’s going to do with you.”

Darius wrinkled his nose. Yes, definitely Hell. The second demon had smoke coming

from his mouth. That was where the leafy smell came from. It was better than the stench
of oil and fumes that drifted from the end of the alley he’d landed in.

“Angel,” the drag demon said. “I don’t know who you had a fight with, but they

must’ve knocked some of the sense out of you.”

Darius looked around. He was standing in a fairly quiet spot between two buildings

of some sort. Where the buildings ended, he could see the glare of red lights glowing like
the eyes of some sort of evil beasts. The screeches and roars came from there. “Please, I
shouldn’t be here.”

The drag demon chuckled. “Honey, none of us should be here, but naughty boys

need a place to play.” She stroked his hair again, the sensation far gentler than he
expected from a demon. “Come inside and let Chitlin take care of you. You’ll feel better
when we’ve cleaned you up.” She gave a tug of her heavy arm, proving there was muscle
underneath that gentleness. Darius had no choice but to follow.

Chitlin’s feet clicked against the ground like claws. Darius looked down and saw

pointy red shoes designed make her even taller than she already was. The drag demon
must be in charge of this area of Hell. He, no, she—Hell certainly was different than he’d
expected—would probably be the one to decide his punishment. She opened a metal door
and dragged him into a dark hallway. The roar and screeches from whatever torture was
taking place outside faded, but now the beat of the demon music pounded through the
walls. Chitlin led him down the hall and opened another door, this one wooden. Inside
two men stood pissing into large white fixtures on the wall. Both turned to stare at him,
their streams hitting the wall and floor. Darius drew back in disgust.

Chitlin stepped between him and the men, hands on her large hips. “Finish up,

gentlemen. I need this space.” The men looked from Chitlin to the smoking demon
standing in the doorway, then zipped the front of their clothing and left. “Eduardo, fetch
our angel something to wear.”

“Boy clothes or girl?” Eduardo, the smoking demon, asked.
“Boy, Papi. Angel here is definitely all boy. What’s your name, Angel?”
“Darius.” He stood shivering on the cold tiles of the floor and wrinkled his nose. The

smell of piss fought against the lingering odor of smoke from Eduardo. Chitlin didn’t
seem to notice it, and at least she was going to let him cover his nakedness.

She pulled a bunch of brown paper towels out of a metal box than hung on the wall

and ran some water over them. “Who threw out a pretty boy like you, all naked and
everything?”

“Raguel,” he answered. Certainly the demons knew that Raguel was in charge of

watching over the angels and keeping Heaven free of corruption.

Chitlin tsked and toweled off the dirt on Darius’s chest. “Some men don’t know how

to treat a boy.” When Chitlin bent down, Darius moved a hand over his genitals. Chitlin
chuckled. “Honey, I’ve seen it all before, and you don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”
She moved the towels down further to wipe off the dirt from his knees. Then she
straightened and pushed his hair back. “Don’t look so frightened. It’s not that bad.”

Darius tried to think of a way that being in Hell couldn’t be bad. Maybe it wasn’t for

demons. Chitlin seemed cheerful. But Chitlin was the queen here, and the other demons
did what she said.

He heard a rap on the door just before it pushed open. The smoking demon stood in

the doorway holding things. “Found a package of clean briefs that should fit him, one of
Cassidy’s cowboy shirts, and some flip-flops. A couple of guys want to know if you’re
going to be in here much longer.”

“Tell ’em to keep their pants on and give Darius a minute to get dressed.” Chitlin

took the package from Eduardo and pulled the plastic off. She held out the contents.
“Basic white suits you.”

White seemed an odd choice for Hell, but Darius pulled the briefs on. They fit snugly

and somehow made his genitals even more obvious. The flip-flops seemed a bit large, but
at least they kept his feet off the cold floor. Then Chitlin handed him a shirt of soft red
plaid. That fit loosely and felt good against his skin. He looked at himself in one of the
mirrors hanging on the wall. His blond hair looked almost white against the red plaid.

Chitlin gathered some of the hair in her hands and began running her fingers through

it, working out tangles. “Now you’re fit to be seen in public. Or at least the bar. I’ve still
got a couple of sets to go, but you’ll come home with Eduardo and me tonight. We’ve got
a couch you can sleep on. Tomorrow we’ll decide what to do with you.” She spread the
hair out over his shoulders. “Frankly, Angel, you’re better off without Raguel.”

Darius closed his eyes. Nothing she said made much sense. He tried to imagine the

rhythm pounding through the walls was the singing of the Seraphim. Everything he knew
was gone. Everything he wanted.

Chapter Three

The room Eduardo led him to pounded with music and swayed with bodies. Darius

froze and stared. The dancers were mostly male and some of them were holding onto
each other. He spotted a couple of men wearing shirts like his. One had his unbuttoned,
and another man’s hands were on his bare chest. Darius checked the buttons on his shirt,
doing them up to the top. He wondered if the music and groping was some sort of
punishment, but the expressions on a pair of dancers that swayed past him didn’t suggest
pain. They looked like they’d been listening to the singing of the Seraphim. “What is this
place?” he asked Eduardo, raising his voice so that the smoking demon could hear him
over the pounding music.

The demon took the rolled-up leaves out of his mouth and waved it to indicate the

men bouncing to the music and pressing against one another. “We call it Chaps. It’s our
little club. Chitlin takes care of the talent, and I watch over the business. Why don’t you
find yourself a seat? I’ll send someone over with a drink. Nothing fancy. I won’t expect
you to pay. Not tonight anyway. I need to check the kitchen.”

Eduardo vanished back into the hallway, and Darius stood at the edge of the

doorway, not wanting to venture out toward the chairs the demon had indicated. Then a
couple of guys squeezed past him, and one of them reached down to grab his butt as he
passed. Darius straightened and pressed his back against the doorway. The man just
winked at him and kept walking. Darius looked out at the room. If he sat down, no one
could grab him.

Eyeing an empty table that seemed to be in a quiet spot, he started across the floor.

Someone else squeezed his butt and another tried to pet his hair. He kept his gaze on the
table and moved faster. These men—or maybe demons—they were like the angels who’d
grabbed at him in Heaven. This had to be a test to see if he was tempted. Somebody
grabbed him and twirled him around, then let him go. He stumbled into a couple of men
who laughed and patted him on the shoulder. Finally, he reached the table and dropped
into a chair. He pulled the shirt close around himself, trying to wrap himself in some sort
of security.

He spotted two more demons with brown smoking sticks in their mouths. They sat at

a table in the back of the room, smoking and watching the dancers. Probably some sort of
senior demons, he decided, but they didn’t seem to be punishing anyone. He still couldn’t
make sense of the place. Maybe Chitlin ran her part of Hell differently than he’d been led
to expect.

A couple of males bumped into the wall beside him, making it shake with their

impact. They didn’t seem to notice the movement, but leaned against the wall with their
mouths pressed together. He could hear their gasps and moans as they writhed, groping at
each other’s bodies. He watched as one pulled free and tried to bite the other’s neck. He
thought it might be some sort of demonic attack. The one pressed against the wall had his
eyes closed, and his breath came in excited gasps. Darius felt his own groin tighten in
response and looked away. Maybe he should move to where he couldn’t hear them. But
the rest of the place seemed to be filled with men groping one another. At least these two
were ignoring him.

Lust. That’s what they’d said before he’d fallen. They would teach him lust. That’s

why he was here. It wasn’t the others who were being punished. It was him. They were
all trying to tempt him. He wrapped his arms around himself and closed his eyes,
determined to ignore them. He could still hear the groans from the men beside him. He
opened his eyes and edged the chair further away, then wondered if that would tell the
senior demons that he was being tempted. He looked over at the smoking demons. They
seemed to be ignoring him. He let his breath out, and his shoulders relaxed a bit as he
slumped in the chair. He just had to sit here until Chitlin said he could leave. He’d
remember the singing of the Seraphim and focus on that.

He closed his eyes and thought about the last time he’d heard the song. He

remembered the long elegant leg of the Seraphim standing above him. Then the muscles
and crossed sandal straps of the leg of the warrior angel. He opened his eyes.

The music stopped, and the crowd of men began clapping and banging the tables.

The lights went out, then three bright lights came on. They swirled, creating bright spots
at the front of the room. Darius watched as the lights merged together, and Eduardo
stepped into the center of them. His voice boomed out into the club. “Chaps is proud to
present the beautiful, rib-stickin’ good, Miss Chitlin Grits!”

Chitlin stepped into the middle of the brightness and began to sing. Pride, Darius

thought as her voice filled the room. He’d sought to sing with the Seraphim, and now he
was in a place run by a singing drag demon. He watched as Chitlin rotated her hips and
brought on more applause from the crowd. Lust and pride, this place thrived on them.
And Chitlin was queen.

“Well, well, look who fell. What’s up, Darius? Not your cock, yet?”
He stared at the slender figure standing in front of him. The hair was blue and

cropped short, bits of metal stuck out of his nipples and he had markings on his body, but
he looked familiar. He sounded even more familiar. Darius hadn’t heard that taunting
voice in, well, he wasn’t sure how long. “Marcus?”

The other winced. “Call me Tribal. Everyone does.” He straddled a chair and put

something on the table. “Brought you a rum and coke. You’re gonna to need it. Just sip.
You’re not used to this sort of drink, but it’ll help you adjust.”

Adjust, Darius thought. He didn’t want to adjust. He wanted to be back listening to

the pure song of the Seraphim. He closed his eyes, trying to recall the sound again. He
just wouldn’t think about anything but the song.

A chair scrapped against the floor and a warm arm draped around his shoulder.

“Open your eyes and take a sip.”

Darius opened just enough to peek. Tribal was holding the glass in front of him.

Darius didn’t move as Tribal pressed it against his lips and tilted it. He sipped the sweet
liquid to keep it from dripping down his chin. Ice floated in it, and it was cold on his lips.
He felt warmer as it reached his stomach. Tribal tilted it again, and he took another sip,
then pushed the glass away. “Why’d Raguel purge you?”

“Giving head.”
Darius opened his eyes the rest of the way. “How do you—”
“Like that.” Tribal jerked his thumb at the two males groping against the wall. One

was now kneeling in front of the other with his mouth pressed against his crotch. As he
pulled back, Darius realized he was sucking on the other’s genitals.

“You did that?” Tribal nodded. Darius looked back to see the kneeling man lick the

other’s swollen penis before taking the whole thing in his mouth again. He turned back to
Tribal, refusing to acknowledge the pressure of his own penis against the white briefs he
wore. “To whom?”

“Anyone who asked. I was having a damn good time until the Prick found out. Not

that I don’t have a better time now.” Tribal put his hands behind his head and stretched
back. “I just finished sucking off the hunter the Prick is sending after you.”

Darius sorted through the words. Marcus—no, Tribal—had been doing what the

males were doing to a—“Hunter?” He’d heard about them. Humans who hunted down
demons who escaped from Hell. But there was no reason for Raguel to send one after
him. He was already in Hell.

“Thought you might be a bit confused,” Tribal said. “Look, do you know where you

are?”

“In Hell,” Darius said. “Ybor City and Chitlin is the queen, except she’s male.”
“Well, you got a couple of things right there,” Tribal said. “Ybor City isn’t in Hell.

It’s on earth.”

“But we aren’t allowed.” True, the senior angels observed and lower angels

delivered messages to them. But they weren’t allowed to visit drag demons and watch
men do … he glanced at the men beside the table … whatever that was to each other.

“We who, honey?” Tribal asked, cheerfully. “All that free will and non-interference

crap only applies to angels, and you just got kicked out of the Heavenly choir. Except His
Prickness screwed up and instead of landing in the pit, you fell to earth. Now he has no
authority over you, but you aren’t one of the Master’s pretty bitches either. So Prick is
sending a hunter.”

Darius looked around, frantic. Was the hunter here? “What should I do?”
“Well, if I were you, I’d let him find me, and then I’d lick his balls. Or in your case,

let him lick yours. When I sucked him off, your scent was all over him. That hunter
already has the hots for you.”

Darius stared at him. Hot didn’t sound good, and he wasn’t sure about the licking

part either.

“Look, do you have any idea what I’m saying?”
He shook his head.
“Damn. Innocent, aren’t you?” Tribal leaned back in his chair and looked him up and

down. “What’d you do to get purged? Turn on the Prickness himself?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You don’t, do you?” Tribal smirked. “Look, there’s a sucking demonstration going

on beside you. If you want, I’ll give you a private lesson. We’ve got time.”

Darius glanced over at the males. The one standing had his hands tangled in the

kneeling one’s hair and was pushing him against his crotch. Darius’s cheeks burned at the
thought of Tribal’s mouth on him. His hand went down to guard his crotch. “I’m not
letting you do that to me.”

Tribal shrugged. “That’s a shame, because I’m damn good. Then again, the hunter

might like you better as a virgin.”

Darius glanced over at the two men. His voice cracked. “He’s going to do that to

me?”

“Oh, you better hope he does, because otherwise, you’re in deeper shit than you

realize.” Tribal picked up the glass of rum and coke. “Look, drink this, because I think

you’re going to need it. Sheesh, I thought Prick would purge someone with a little
experience. I’m surprised you didn’t bounce your naïve little ass back up to Heaven.”

“I want to go back,” Darius said, feeling the plea through his whole body. He didn’t

want to be here with these strange men and this pulsing music. With his body doing
things he didn’t expect. He certainly didn’t like feeling that he might enjoy some of those
things.

“Nah, you don’t want to go back,” Tribal said. “You just need someone to hold you

down and fuck the memory of that place out of you. Now drink, because I’m about to tell
you who’s going to do that.”

“Fuck—?” He’d barely got the word out before Tribal forced the glass against his

lips and tipped it up. He swallowed some of the liquid before slamming the glass out of
Tribal’s hands. It hit the floor with brittle crash.

“Found a friend?” Eduardo loomed over the table, looking down at them.
Tribal backed away from Darius and smiled up at Eduardo. “We’re friends from way

back. Darius knew me before I turned professional.”

Eduardo rolled the smoking stick between his fingers. “Are you being professional

tonight?”

Tribal shrugged. “Maybe. If they’re polite enough to let me finish a conversation

with a friend.”

Eduardo blew a stream of smoke out of his mouth. “I’ll pass the word along. Chitlin

says Darius is off limits.”

“It’d be like doing my brother,” Tribal said, and Eduardo inclined his head before

strolling away. “Shame I don’t have a brother.”

“If he’s not a demon, why does smoke come out of his mouth?” Darius asked.
“Smoking. A bad human habit. It can kill you.”
Darius thought about that for a moment. “Can it?” And where would he go if it did?
“Well, no, probably not. Darius, I’m gonna give some advice and explain the deal.

Don’t say, ‘The deal?’ You gotta to at least start sounding like you know what’s going
on. Look, do you want another rum and coke?”

“Not if you’re going to attack me with it.”
Tribal slumped in his chair and ran a hand over his spiky hair. “Damn, I thought this

was gonna be easy. Maybe this will help.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a
slender rectangle. It glowed when he poked at it, and then he turned it so Darius could
see. “Gotta love iPhones. Whadaya think?”

Darius took the box and looked at the man on the display. Dark hair fell to his

shoulder, and he had a wider brow and stronger jaw than angels did. He also had broad
shoulders and muscles that Darius suddenly wanted to touch. His gaze moved down, and
Tribal caught the box as it slipped from his hands. He looked up, slowly. “Is that the
hunter?”

“Hot, right? Makes you wanna get into his pants.”
“He wasn’t wearing any.” The man had been standing there, in front of something

black, looking very surprised and naked.

“Yep. Look, Darius, here’s the deal. Franco is one of Raguel’s best. He and the

Master have been battling over him for centuries. The guy’s all kinds of tough, but angels
turn him on.” Tribal paused to wink at him. “Apparently I still have it. And I get the
chance to overhear things now and then. The Master wants to tweak Raguel’s nose. If

you can convince Franco not to do Raguel’s bidding, the Master might help you out. The
way I see it, if you can seduce the hunter, he might want to keep you around instead of
sending you to Hell. That would be good for you. Not so good for Raguel. So I figured
I’d stop by and drop a hint, for old times’ sake. It’s a great opportunity. Cozy, comfy
earth with all its sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. But if you keep playing ‘Darius the stuck-
up angel,’ well, I’ll drop by with a cold rum and Coke next time I’m in Hell.”

Darius closed his eyes and took deep breaths. The hunter would send him to Hell,

real Hell, and he wasn’t doing too well dealing with earth. “I don’t know how to not be a
stuck-up angel.”

Tribal patted his arm. “Open your eyes and watch the action around you. You don’t

have control over anything right now except your body and who you can make want it.
Me? I make everyone want me. You’re more the exclusive type. You just have to
persuade the hunter he wants you. Now, I’m going to get us both another rum and coke.”

Darius watched Tribal stride across the room with a twist to his hips that made men

stop to watch him. Around him men gyrated to the music and stuck their tongues in each
other’s mouths. Men leaned back in their chairs, sucking on smoking sticks. Chitlin stood
on the stage and sang about love. Somewhere in here, Tribal expected him to find an
answer.

* * * *

Driving left Franco with too much time for introspection. Raguel was right; sex

always had been his undoing. He stared through the windshield at the flow of lights on
the highway and let his memories drift back seven centuries to one night and one
decision.

He stood on the night-darkened tower and braced himself against the stones, feeling

the wind whip like a lash as it blew aside his tunic. He looked down at the flickering
torches set in the bare ground below. His own sins he could deal with, but the lad had
leapt to his death unshriven and unconfessed. Did he deserve anything less? He
clambered to the top of the wall and stretched his arms out. No one was out in the storm
to see him standing, outlined against the night sky. The wind buffeted him. He tried not
to resist. If the storm pushed him over, would he escape the punishment of a suicide? No,
he couldn’t allow himself to escape the fate the lad had found. He was many things, but
he was no coward. He leaned forward and fell.

Something hit his abdomen so hard it knocked the breath out of him. Not the ground.

That retreated as fast as it had been approaching a breath ago. Then the stones of the
tower were back under him, and someone stood him on his feet. Shivering, he looked up
to find himself staring at the statue of an angel. Except there were no statues on the top of
this tower, and angels didn’t usually sneer.

“This one?” the statue demanded.
“Do you question my right to chose?” a deep voice asked from behind him.
Franco whirled. The figure holding him possessed feathered wings that rose over his

shoulders and showed off his long, black hair. He wore dark leggings but no tunic.
Franco tore his gaze from the bare chest to the dark eyes. “Who are you?”

The creature smiled in the beguiling manner of a man trying to lure a lover. “I’m

who you were rushing to meet a moment ago. Call me Luc. The angel over there is
Raguel.”

The name Raguel sifted into memory from long hours of study in his youth.

“Overseer of justice for angels. And Luc for—”

“Let’s just say I inherit those who no longer fall under Raguel’s jurisdiction.” Luc

dropped an arm around Franco’s shoulder. Suddenly the wind stopped biting, and Franco
felt warmth course through his body. “Now, Raquel and I, we have a problem we can’t
solve on our own. You, my knightly friend, have just made yourself part of it by throwing
yourself off this tower.”

Franco looked from Luc to Raguel, who was still sneering. Raguel’s hand moved in

the air, and an image formed—a twisted figure caught between the beauty of the angel
and the ugliness of one of Hell’s demons. “This escaped.” The voice that came from
those sneering lips was as beautiful as it was cold. “It must be caught and sent back to
where it belongs. You will find it and see to the deed.”

Part of Franco’s mind was already judging the strange shape and the possible

strength in those muscles, even as he struggled to understand the situation he found
himself in. “I don’t understand. Why choose me?”

“You’re built for this job, my friend.” Luc’s hand drifted down his back, caressing

the muscles. “Besides our former hunter has suddenly become unavailable.”

Franco tried to ignore Luc’s warm fingers. “That killed him?”
The sneering angel spoke. “He earned his place in Heaven long ago.” His gaze

moved over Franco. “It takes faith to defeat the unholy.”

“Men not burdened by my sins.” He couldn’t deny them. He had no doubt this angel

could produce a list if needed.

Luc cupped his ass. “Raguel would undoubtedly choose one of them. This time, it’s

my choice to make. I have chosen you. If you refuse, your soul is mine. It would have
been minutes ago anyway.” Luc’s hand moved under his leggings and found the crack
between his cheeks. “Which means your punishment will be mine to decide. What do you
think you deserve, Sir Franco? Perhaps—”

He was stretched out on a rock on his stomach, chained with his legs spread. The

demon in front of him stood the height of two men with a cock that burned with flame.
Clawed hands stroked it as he moved closer to the rock.

He was back with Luc’s hand inside his leggings and the fingers stroking along his

butt crack. He groaned as his body responded to the sensuous touch.

Luc chuckled, a deep, knowing sound. “Even now, your body desires to sin, but if

you become a hunter, Raguel must offer you the chance to redeem your soul. Every
demon returned to Hell counts toward your redemption. Satisfy your carnal desires, and
you slip back toward me.” The finger prodded his hole, and Franco’s cock pressed hard
against his leggings. “Raguel would prefer just to send you to Hell now and chose a more
deserving candidate. As my part of the deal, you will receive part of the soul, the life
force, from every successful capture. This will give you more time to work off your sins.
If one of mine can kill you before you redeem yourself—”

He was back on the rock again. He could feel the demon crouching behind him. He

struggled against his chains and when the heat of a fiery claw raked down his back, he
screamed.

Luc held him, one arm wrapped around him, pressing him against his shoulder as he

gasped. “Refuse me, Franco, and it won’t be a vision. Do you think you deserve a lesser
torment?”

He remembered the feel of the lad under him. His body moving back and forth as he

worked himself to a climax. The lad had been willing, but a virgin. Barely twenty.
Afterward, he’d been so tormented by shame he’d taken his own life. Franco had barely
been aware of him once he’d slaked his lust. Until the lad’s body was found at the base of
the tower. “It’s what I deserve.”

“I’ve had enough of this.” Raguel shifted from his position near the wall. “If he

rejects your arrangement, the next candidate is my choice.”

Franco spoke before Luc could answer. “I accept the arrangement. I am yours to

command.”

“The sword,” Luc said.
Raguel made a little hiss of disapproval, but drew a sword from beneath his white

robe. The metal gleamed in the moonlight.

“Blessed silver.” Raguel held the sword up. “It will serve as some protection.” He

lowered it, resting the tip on the stones of the tower. “Kneel before it.”

Franco shrugged off Luc’s arm and once again felt the cold wind cut through him.

He strode the five paces to Raguel and knelt. He pressed his lips to the cold metal of the
sword hilt. Then reached up to put his hand to it. As soon as he touched the hilt, the
sword wobbled in his grip. Raguel had vanished. He stood, lifting the weapon. It felt light
and balanced in his hand.

“It’s not meant to be used in regular combat,” Luc said from behind him. “Don’t

waste it on mortal flesh.”

“How am I to find this demon and send him to Hell?”
Luc chuckled. “His name is Vetis, and by that you may command him to return to

me. As for finding him, ride south and listen to the tales.”

Franco nodded. “You’ve given me a chance the angel wouldn’t. Why?”
“You threw yourself off the tower.” Luc stepped close and stroked Franco’s jaw.

“What is it you’re more eager to redeem, Franco? Your guilt or the boy’s sins?”

“The boy.” His voice broke on the question. If he’d condemned the lad to eternal

torture, he’d never forgive himself. “Where is he?”

Luc leaned close and whispered like a lover. “His sins were less than yours. I can

keep him from torment, for a price.”

Franco bowed his head. “Name it.”
“The lad is free from suffering. The price I will name when I’m ready to collect.”
Franco blinked as a car passed him, honking its horn. He pressed down on the gas

pedal and sped back up. Memories would only distract him. Hunting was risky, and Luc
waited to gather his soul at the first failure. Seven centuries and he’d never named his
price. But Franco knew he hadn’t forgotten the agreement.

Chapter Four

Darius woke to light falling through the window. He sat up on the couch and

stretched. His back felt stiff from sleeping in one position. That had never happened in
Heaven where sleep wasn’t necessary. At least all of earth wasn’t as noisy and crowded
as the club or else he doubted even the humans would be able to sleep. Instead, after he’d
sat through hours of pounding music, Chitlin and Eduardo had led him to a quiet street
and a tiny, peaceful house. Darius had dropped gratefully to the couch and accepted the
blanket Chitlin offered him. Now, he bounced on the couch, testing it. It had felt
comfortable enough when he fell into it, but he didn’t think it was as soft as the big bed
that Chitlin and Eduardo shared.

He’d been surprised to discover that the two men slept in the same bed. Somehow

that felt very different from the thought of the men rubbing together at the club. Or what
Tribal wanted to do with men. Warmer. Or maybe that was the light from the window
falling on his legs. He reached out with his hand and felt the golden square. Then he
pushed up from the couch and went to the window. Outside sunlight fell on a patch of
green grass between the house and the street. Real sunlight. He wanted to feel it on his
whole body.

He opened the front door and stepped outside. The grass tickled his feet, and he

wiggled his toes, feeling each blade between them. He lifted his head, held his arms out,
and let the sunlight land on his face. He stood, feeling as if he could hear the song of the
Seraphim again.

A shadow fell across him. “Honey, if you’re going to stand outside, you need to put

some more clothes on.” Chitlin draped the blanket from the couch over his shoulders and
pulled it around him, almost like a robe. “Otherwise, well—” Chitlin tweaked the blanket
tighter. “—we’ll have to hose the neighbors down once they get a good look at you.”

“I wanted to feel the sunlight,” Darius said, realizing that as usual, he only

understood half of what Chitlin said.

“Of course, honey.” Chitlin patted his hand. “We just need to work a little on your

fashion sense. Tighty whiteys are fine for evening wear, but in daylight, we cover up a bit
more.”

Darius nodded. After all, Chitlin was dressed differently this morning than he had

been during the night. His head was bare without the big pouf of hair, and he wore a terry
cloth robe belted at the waist. But he’d done something, or maybe not done something, so
that his shape was a man’s body.

“Now, I just finished showering, so the bathroom is free,” Chitlin said, leading him

inside. “You go ahead and clean up while Eduardo finds you some clothes to wear. I’ll
fix us all some breakfast, then it’s back to the club. No rest for the wicked around here.”

“Are you wicked?” Darius asked.
Chitlin chuckled. “Honey, today I’m auditioning new talent, and when I do that, I’m

absolutely evil. Now, you go shower up.”

* * * *

Franco exited the highway onto the narrow streets of Ybor City, and pulled into the

reserved lot behind the Paradiso. The two-story hotel’s covered back patio stood open to
the parking area and the Florida heat. No one was taking advantage of the outside seating,
so Franco strolled across the asphalt to the empty patio. The door was locked. He rang the
buzzer, then rapped on the glass. He’d called during the drive from Georgia to be sure a
room would be ready for him.

A figure approached and peered out of the glass door, taking in Franco’s unkempt

ponytail, two days growth of beard, and lack of luggage. Franco saw him frown and
shake his head, disapprovingly.

Franco spread out his arms. “What, don’t I get a welcome?”
The door opened, and Bradley looked him up and down. “Welcome back to the

Paradiso, Mr. Franco. Your room is ready. King bed, as usual. The hotel can supply a
razor and toiletries if you’ve left yours behind.”

Franco rubbed his chin. “It is at the itchy stage. A shower and a change of clothes

would do me a world of good.”

“Of course, sir. Would you like the luggage you left last time sent up? I had the

clothes cleaned.”

Franco tried to remember what he’d brought last time he’d visited. Ah, well, no

matter. The weather in Florida didn’t vary that much. He followed Bradley to the desk
and leaned against it while the concierge located the toiletry set in one of the drawers.
“So, how are things in town? Any excitement?”

Bradley put a razor on the counter beside Franco’s key and gave him a brief

questioning look. “Is there something specific you’re interested in?”

“I’m looking for someone who may have arrived last night. He would have created

some interest or excitement. Maybe violence.”

Bradley shook his head at the last remark. “Not Blondie, then. Nothing violent

there.”

Franco stood up straight. “Long blond hair? Down to his waist?”
Bradley nodded. “That’s him. Apparently showed up at Chaps completely naked.

Chitlin got some clothes on him, but pretty boy sat in the corner all night. From what I
heard, a lot of guys were disappointed in that.”

Franco struggled not to look surprised. He’d been expecting to hear news about a

murder or a fight or at least a good orgy. Demons didn’t sit quietly in a corner. Certainly
not in the middle of a good club. “Any idea where Blondie is now?”

Bradley shrugged. “He could have checked into the Hilton or crashed at someone’s

place. Half the guys at the club would have been happy to take him home with them. If
he’s a friend of yours, you should have told him to stop here.”

Franco rubbed his chin. It was itching. He’d been driving all night, and he was

hungry. “The town’s been quiet this morning?” He waited for Bradley’s answering nod.
This was a subtle demon. He’d be better able to tackle him if he ate and rested first. “I
guess I do have time for that shave.” He took the toiletry set and the key. “Can the chef
manage a steak or something for lunch? I’m starved.”

“Rare, of course,” Bradley said. “It’ll be there in half an hour.”
Franco nodded and made his way upstairs, trusting Bradley to find his old luggage.

The Paradiso had more advantages than its quiet appearance suggested.

* * * *

Darius stood underneath the shower, letting the warm water work out some of the

tenseness in his shoulders. Chitlin was taking him back to the club. He remembered the
things he’d seen there the night before, then he thought about the image of the hunter that
Tribal had shown him. He looked down at his penis. It pointed outward and curved
toward his stomach. Thick and heavy, it looked just like the one the disgraced angel had
flashed at him before they’d been purged from Heaven. He reached down and touched it
with the tip of a finger. Raguel wasn’t going to be watching what he did in the shower.
Beside he’d had already thrown him out of Heaven. Darius ran a finger along the length
of his shaft. That sent shivers up his spine. He considered the feeling a moment, then
touched himself again. More shivers.

He leaned back against the chilly shower tiles. He’d always prayed and concentrated

on the holy song. He’d never let himself experience physical pleasure. Never wanted lust
to overtake him. He’d made sure to avoid the areas of Heaven where the human souls
resided. He even avoided interacting too much with other angels. It had just been him, the
song, and the dream of being a Seraphim. But now his body was reacting as if he’d spent
his time acting the way Tribal did. He wondered if the dream itself had betrayed him. He
hadn’t needed lust. Pride had taken him with open arms. Tribal was right, he was Darius
the stuck-up angel, who spoke to almost no one and couldn’t even recognize the
difference between earth and Hell.

He struck the wall with his fist. The bang echoed in the shower, and Darius shook his

hand as pain throbbed through it. Pain—he wasn’t used to that. He rubbed the sore spot.
Seduce the hunter, Tribal had told him. How was he supposed to do that? He’d watched
the men at the club. They’d touched each other’s hands, lips, butts. He looked down at
himself. His cock throbbed like his hand did, like a sore spot that wanted to be rubbed.
That’s what the men had been doing, releasing the pain. That couldn’t be too evil.
Releasing pain wasn’t in itself a sin.

No, Raguel would say allowing his thoughts to put himself in a position where he

needed to release his lust was a sin. Pride was a sin. Envy was a sin, and he’d envied the
Seraphim. He closed his eyes, wanting to give into tears, but even despair was a sin.

He leaned against the wall of the shower. He’d fallen, and now he had to seduce a

hunter to survive. A hunter with muscular arms and broad shoulders. He’d seen the man’s
genitals in the image Tribal had shown him, the thick half-erect penis resting in the dark
curls at the man’s crotch. He would have to touch it. He thought about that. He’d never
even touched himself. What would it be like to touch another?

The memories of the two men beside his table at the club echoed in his thoughts.

One had taken the other’s penis in his mouth. Tribal had said he’d sucked on the hunter.
Darius bent over and studied his cock. He bent further until he could touch it with his
lips, but that didn’t feel comfortable. Probably why humans did it to each other.
Straightening, he touched the head of his penis with his finger. That made him shiver
again, so he ran his finger down the length of the shaft. The shiver shot up his spine. He
took the balls in his hands and massaged them. He let out a sigh as a warm feeling
coursed through his body. He stood straighter, enjoying the sensations his hands could
send through his body. Why hadn’t anyone told him about this before?

He move from his balls to his shaft and gripped himself with one hand. He tugged

and grunted at the feeling that created. He tugged some more and decide it would work
better if his hand could slip over his skin more easily. He grabbed a plastic bottle that

promised to make his skin silky and squirted some of the liquid on his hands. He rubbed
them together, feeling the liquid slip between them. Then he moved his hands down
along his penis.

His breath caught at the sensation. Sinning felt good. Probably why Tribal liked it so

much. Holding his breath, he yanked back and forth on himself. That almost worked, but
he needed to breathe. He tried matching his breath to his tugs. That worked better. His
body tensed with the motion, and he realized his nipples were now growing tight, like
they wanted to be touched. This was becoming complicated. Keeping one hand on his
penis, he reached up and touched a nipple with the other. It turned into a tight nub and
made him move so his penis thrust into his hand almost without thought. He was
wondering what other parts of his body would feel tingly if he touched them, when a
knock on the door made him stand perfectly still.

“Breakfast is almost ready, honey,” Chitlin called out. “Finish up in there.”
“Umm, almost done,” he called back and listened as the footsteps moved away from

the door. He looked down. His penis was still hard and pointing out, but now he could
smell the food and realized he was hungry. He hadn’t felt hunger before either, but he
didn’t think it was polite to go to breakfast with his thing sticking out. He wondered how
humans managed to handle such a complicated existence. Order, he thought. Just do
things in order. First, he needed to make his penis go back down.

Grabbing himself, he pulled back and forth. He rocked with the motion, and his

entire body seemed to hum, like it was singing with the Seraphim. Then energy surged
from the base of his spine all the way up his torso. His hips thrust, and his butt bounced
against the tile of the shower. He hummed as his hand spasmed, sending a white spurt
across the shower. He leaned against the tile and jerked again, sending out another spurt.
His body seemed alive with a new sort of energy. A third spurt and he felt himself go
limp.

He stood there for a bit, relishing the sensation. Then he grabbed a bottle that

promised cleanliness and scrubbed the evidence of his sin off of himself and the shower
wall. He’d never really experienced his body before. He wondered what it would have
felt like with a man’s hand circling his cock. Or a man’s mouth on him. He felt his shaft
start to go hard again and stared down at it. Tribal had told him to seduce the hunter. He
was going to have to do it soon if he didn’t want to walk around all the time with his dick
hard.

Tribal said the hunter would be hot for him. Darius looked at the shower knobs and

turned the one that said hot down. Cold water hit him and his shaft settled back down to
normal. He left the shower and dressed in the jeans and red plaid shirt that Eduardo had
left in the bathroom. The jeans fit differently than the white briefs had and helped hold
his penis in place. Relieved that he wouldn’t have to walk around with it sticking out, he
went to join the two men at breakfast.

Chitlin looked him over, his lips pressed together as if he was thinking hard, and

Darius wondered if they knew what he’d been doing in the shower. “I’m not sure plaid is
his color.”

Eduardo motioned for Darius to take a seat at a spot that held a huge plate of food.

Darius noticed that Eduardo looked much the same way he did the night before, except he
didn’t have a smoking stick. Chitlin seemed to be the only one who changed from a man
to a woman. Eduardo regarded him for a moment. “The shirt hangs loose on him, but

he’d look good in anything. We could always find him a job at the club.”

“We’ll see, honey, we’ll see. Right now, let the boy eat his eggs.”
Darius’s nose was already twitching at the smell of the food on his plate. He picked

up the fork and tried the eggs. His eyes widened and he took a second bite. They tasted
cheesy and salty and peppery. He picked up a piece of bacon from his plate and took a
bite. It tasted even better than the eggs. Crispy and fatty all at the same time.

“You’d think the boy had never eaten before,” Chitlin chided. “Darius, take time to

chew. We don’t have to leave for the club just yet.”

Darius swallowed and got his breath back. “Will everyone be there?” He wasn’t sure

he wanted to run into Marcus again.

“Just the crew for rehearsals and the new boys auditioning to join the lineup.

Eduardo might find something for you to do.”

Darius felt the blood rush from his face. “I don’t know—”
Chitlin patted his hand. “Not as a drag queen, darlin’”. We can always have you help

with clean-up duty until we find where your talent lies. Now, finish your breakfast.”

Darius nodded and turned his attention back to his eggs and bacon. He’d like to stay

and help Chitlin with the club. And eat eggs and stand in the sunlight in the morning. But
the hunter was going to find him, and Chitlin couldn’t do a thing about that.

Chapter Five

Tribal tapped his foot while a bored condemned soul shuffled a sheaf of parchment

papers. “Dude, you know who I am.”

The cleric looked up at him. “Marcus.”
“Tribal. I don’t use the old name.” The man had been serving the Master long

enough to know that. He also knew he controlled access to the Master, but Tribal wasn’t
a condemned soul negotiating for better terms.

“You are Marcus in the Master’s files. You are not on the list of the summoned.”

The clerk glanced down at his parchments, then back up. “By either name. Would you
like to make an appointment?”

“Dude, demons don’t do appointments. We’re all about evil and anarchy and all

that.”

The cleric picked up a quill pen and dipped it in a pot of red ink. “I have an opening

early next century.”

“Fuck next century.” Tribal turned on his heels and strode toward the soaring doors

that marked the entrance to the inner court. A pair of shiny axe heads slashed down to bar
his entrance. The axes seemed redundant in the hands of the pair of towering rock
demons, but demons liked bling. “Relax, dudes. I’m just going in to see the Master.” He
waited for the axes to move. What if the Master had told them to refuse him entrance?
What if he was out of favor?

“Persuade us,” one rumbled, sending echoes through the ante room.
“It’s been a long shift.” A second echo joined the first.
Tribal licked his lips. The Master hadn’t forbidden him entrance. The door guards

just wanted some of his personal attention. “You got it, boys.” He wouldn’t even have to
kneel to suck off these two rock-hard demons. The day was looking up. Behind him he
heard the cleric shuffling parchment. Watching demons fuck didn’t even interest him
anymore. “Who wants to come first?”

The demons clenched their fists into something that looked like a craggy red

boulders. They raised them and brought them down to chest level, then swung them up
again. Tribal crossed his arms and waited. Rock demons had trouble counting as high as
three, and a game of boulder, parchment, scythe would confuse them if they didn’t give it
all their focus. On about the sixth swing, they managed to stop. Both fists still closed.
Rock demons always went with boulder.

“Parchment covers boulders,” a voice behind Tribal said.
Tribal looked over his shoulder. The clerk had his hand out, palm flat. “Been a long

shift for you too, dude?”

“He wasn’t playing,” one of the demons grumbled.
The man lowered his hand and began tugging up his dark robe. “The last monk on

duty left some notes about you. I just read them.”

The demon growled.
The cleric didn’t stop pulling up his robe. Serving the Master granted even the

damned a certain status. “He can do three of us, or I can put his name down for an
appointment and just let him in.”

The demons exchanged suspicious looks.
“Three means all,” Tribal reassured them. The cleric would be a quick suck, but rock

demons lasted a long time. He’d once spent the better part of a decade being fucked by
one. Maybe these two would be available for a little extra fun after he completed his
assignment. His butt ached just at the thought of it.

“Marcus.”
His name rang like a bell in the massive entry hall. He could feel himself vibrating

with the air itself. “Sorry, dudes, do you later. Love ya. Mean it.”

He landed on his hands and knees in the sand pit. He didn’t move. There were

granules of blessed silver in the sand, and that stuff stung like heaven. He lowered his
head until it was almost touching the sand. “Master.”

“You’ve been showing initiative.” The voice was deep and smooth, the words almost

a melody.

“Yes, Master.” He didn’t move or raise his head. He wasn’t sure how big a sin

initiative was. He’d never been accused of it before.

“Subverting my guards by making yourself available to them is something I expect

from you. But servicing one of my demon hunters was,” the voice paused, “unplanned. I
wouldn’t have expected Franco to fall for a demon, considering his job.”

“I’m better looking than Gressil.”
The Master chuckled at that. “And do you think the fallen one will also be able to

seduce Franco?”

Tribal snorted. “Darius couldn’t seduce a fire demon on a cold day.” He raised his

head just a bit. “Franco won’t be able to resist him for a second. Big Guy has the hots for
angels, and Darius still fucking glows.”

“You’ve done well.”
Tribal raised his head the rest of the way. The figure on the throne smiled at him

with a gentleness that was never seen in the pits of Hell. The Master had wings with
ebony feathers that stretched out behind him. And he still possessed the ethereal beauty
that marked an angel. Darius still had that beauty, and there was no way Tribal was
letting a glowing angel boy get in on his territory. If his plan worked, Darius would stay
right where he was—on earth.

“If this works, I will reward you,” the Master said. “If it fails … ah, but there is time

to consider that later. Come, take a place at my feet.”

Tribal scrambled out of the sand pit and across the dark stone of the floor. He knelt

at the Master’s throne, his head at the perfect level to observe the folds of the robe that
covered the Master’s crotch. He looked up and winked. “Anything I can do for you while
I’m down here?”

It was a vague hope, so he was surprised when the Master’s carefully groomed

fingers pulled back the robe to reveal a long, elegant cock. Tribal bowed his head,
acknowledging the great honor. Hell, if he succeeded in hooking up Darius with Franco,
he might even be granted a regular spot at the Master’s feet.

He scooted forward until he could take the tip of that elegant cock in his mouth. He

ran his tongue around it, feeling the silkiness of the skin. No one else tasted like the
Master did, all honey and salt. Tribal lowered himself, taking the entire length of the
Master in his mouth. He sucked as deeply as he could. He didn’t need to breathe and
could keep this position as long as he was permitted. His hands bunched into the Master’s

robe while his tongue found space to explore the perfection of the cock in his mouth.

“Ah, Gressil.” The Master’s hand rested on Tribal’s head, the fingers stroking his

hair. “I’m pleased you’re back with us.”

“You don’t command me, little Morning Star.”
Tribal paused in his sucking as Gressil spat the title out. It wasn’t one the Master

used around those condemned to the pits. And the Master was not little. Certainly not
anywhere that counted. Unfortunately Tribal couldn’t keep sucking on the Master’s cock
if he turned around to watch what was about to happen to Gressil. But the pressure of the
long fingers against his scalp told him it would be wiser not to ignore his current duties.
He pushed back down on the Master and felt the light touch as the fingers stroked his
hair. He’d made the right choice. He didn’t think the Master would notice if he worked
quietly so he could hear what happened.

“Gressil.” The Master’s voice filled the room. His tone even and calm. Too even.

“You just don’t put enough effort into being an agent of anarchy. The hunter didn’t even
need a sword of blessed silver to send you back where you belong. Why not tell everyone
which ear he grabbed you by while you were dumpster diving?”

Tribal heard the others in the room snicker. Being punished was of little threat to a

demon like Gressil, but being easily caught by the demon hunter would weaken his
standing. And a weak demon would command less of a following.

“No answer, Gressil? Perhaps you need something to help you remember. The left

ear, wasn’t it?” The Master’s hand lifted off Tribal’s hair. Tribal raised his eyes enough
to see the Master remove a silver stud from his ear. “An earring to mark the spot. This
one should do.”

Tribal pushed tighter against the Master’s thighs and whimpered. That earring was

made from blessed silver, and the stuff burned like heaven. He knew. His piercings had
been part of his punishments. Now he wore plain steel in those holes, but if he fucked up
this assignment, he’d be wearing blessed silver again. Gressil was lucky the Master had
only ordered his ear pierced. The Master knew what he was doing. Everyone in Hell
would see that earring and know what it meant.

He sucked harder as Gressil’s screams echoed through the hall. The demon was a

wimp. Tribal hadn’t screamed that loudly when the Master had him held down so he
could pierce his cock. The Master had honored him by punishing him with his own hand.
He remembered the pain as he heard the hiss of the earring going through hot, thick
demon flesh.

The Master came with a single soft sigh. Tribal swallowed and laid his cheek against

one muscled thigh. The Master’s hand touched his hair again. “You didn’t scream so
loudly when I pierced you. Perhaps I’ve been underestimating you, Tribal.”

“I exist only to serve,” he said and meant it.

* * * *

Franco was able to park the Hummer directly in front of Chaps since this early in the

day the street was fairly empty. He’d showered, shaved, and dressed in the jeans and
black T-shirt that had been in his old luggage. He felt refreshed and looked presentable
enough for the daytime tourists. Ybor City didn’t really come to life until the sun went
down, and the clubs opened their doors. Franco always wondered why psychics kept
finding portals to Hell in quaint old houses or lazy modern suburbs. The last thing a

demon wanted was a quiet suburb. They wanted action and people. Ybor City had a night
life to rival most large cities, at least if one was interested in dance clubs, cigars, and sex.

Chaps must have been doing well. The club took up a corner spot just a block off the

main street. Franco strode up to the double doors at the front and tugged. Locked. Of
course, he didn’t expect his prey to be hanging around the closed club. A demon would
have left in search of excitement. But Ybor City was quiet right now, and Chaps was as
good a place to start his hunt as any. He walked along the building, checking windows
and looking for signs of the demon’s passage.

A family with a couple of kids strode down the sidewalk. The parents caught sight of

him and led the kids across the street. They could have given him some credit for taking
off the leather and chains, Franco thought as he slipped into the alleyway between the
club and the building next door.

He spotted it immediately—a trail of soul light. Sunlight washed it out until it

descended to the dimmer space between the buildings. There it glowed. Franco leaned
against a brick wall and studied the trail. Damn, he’d burned bright.

True, some of the fallen retained a resemblance to the angels that they once had

been, but that resemblance was only superficial. They possessed a demon’s soul. Which
didn’t match the story Bradley had told him about the blond sitting quietly in a corner all
night or the glow that filled the alley. He’d hunted hundreds of demons who burned with
fire and anger. This one glowed like a falling star.

He followed the fallen one’s soul light to a back door of the building and tried the

handle. He was surprised when it turned smoothly, and he was able to open the door. He
slipped through into a hallway. The floor was cheap linoleum and the walls roughly
painted bricks. The back of the club. Darius had come in this way rather than through the
front. He wasn’t sure if that told him anything useful. The sound of music and singing
drifted from the front of the club. Not enough noise to suggest it was open for business,
but enough to explain why the door was unlocked. The music stopped and started in a
jerky manner that suggested a rehearsal.

Franco followed the trail of soul light down the hallway, but it only led him to an

empty bathroom. Well, it would have been a long journey; maybe Darius needed to go.
Back in the hallway, the glow led toward the music. A curtained entrance blocked the
backstage staff space from the main club. Franco peered through it. The soul light flowed
into the half-lit club, and faded into the shadows. He wondered if there were enough
people out there for him to blend in if he slipped into the room.

*

Darius sat on a long bench at the back of the club and watched Chitlin order people

around. She’d put on her dress and wig again, and although some of the other men
dressed the same way, they all treated Chitlin like she was the Queen. Even Eduardo did
what Chitlin said. Though sometimes Darius caught him smiling while he watched her
and twirled his smoking stick between his fingers. The way they acted together was
different than the way Tribal lusted for men. The way Chitlin and Eduardo acted
reminded him of the sunlight. It was warm and real. He wanted someone to look at him
the way Eduardo looked at Chitlin.

A figure moving in the doorway caught his attention. Darius ducked behind a table.

He could still see the doorway, and the figure that stepped forward to nearly fill it. He
recognized him from the picture Tribal had shown him. He hadn’t expected the hunter to

be so big. He was tall, probably as tall as Raguel. His shoulders were as wide as Chitlin’s,
but Darius didn’t think he wore the sort of padding Chitlin wore. He looked out into the
room, seeming so self-assured that Darius thought he’d even be able to stand up to
Raguel himself.

One of the Chitlin’s men walked by, and the hunter stepped back from the doorway

and left. Darius sat up. How was he supposed to seduce him if he left? He needed to
seduce him. To feel that big, broad-shouldered body pressed against his. Not just because
Tribal told him to but because he wanted someone to look at him the way Eduardo looked
at Chitlin.

He hesitated. He’d be safer hiding in the club and hoping the hunter didn’t come

back. The man wasn’t going to touch his genitals, he was going to send him to Hell. He
was being foolish to imagine that the man would look at him the way Eduardo looked at
Chitlin. He needed to stay where he was and hope he didn’t return.

But if this hunter didn’t find him, Raguel would just send another. He had Tribal’s

word that this one would like him. This man who looked strong enough to stand up
against Raguel. He needed to go find him and touch him the way the men had touched
one another in the club. The thought made him feel warm and nervous. He looked over to
the stage, Chitlin was busy with rehearsal, and no one would notice if he left. Besides if
he didn’t go, the hunter might not find him.

*

Franco faded back into the hallway as a man wearing a black T-shirt with Security

printed on it passed by. Standard club security garb meant that there might be another
shirt around somewhere. One security guard looked much like another, and he had the
right build for it. No one would question him. At least not for the few minutes it would
take him to check the club.

Moving down the hallway, he stopped at the first door he saw and listened for any

movement inside. No sounds. He turned the handle and found a broom closet. The next
was a dressing room with expensive dresses and wigs. He doubted a drag queen would
keep a security T-shirt handy, so he moved on. The third door revealed what he wanted—
a break room with a soda machine, a couple of tables, and a block of lockers. He started
with the unlocked lockers. Sure enough, one held a stack of black T-shirts with Security
printed across the back. He pulled an extra large one over his own T-shirt. It fit tightly,
but he didn’t plan to be in the club for long. He just needed to get far enough into that
main room to check that it was demon-free.

*

Darius pressed into the space behind a cardboard sign as he saw the broad-

shouldered hunter go into the break room. The man hadn’t left but was searching the
club. Since Chitlin had everyone out on the stage for rehearsal, no one would stop him if
he tried to seduce the hunter. Or help him if he needed it. Not that mortals could do much
against a demon hunter.

He took a deep breath and let it out, then tiptoed down the hallway. He stopped

outside the door to the break room and peered in. The man was going through the lockers.
Perplexed, Darius waited. The hunter couldn’t be looking for him in the little square
boxes.

Then the man pulled out a shirt and held it up to examine it before pulling it over his

head. Darius moved further into the doorway to get a better look at the way the T-shirt

pulled across his back and the way the jeans clung to his butt. Sometimes Chitlin put her
hand on Eduardo’s butt. He thought of himself doing that to the hunter as the man tugged
the shirt down around his waist. The back said “Security.” The hunter wasn’t leaving. He
was just dressing so he could search the club better. Hiding would never have worked.

Well, now was the time to do something. Darius took a breath and tried to think

about what Tribal would do. He didn’t think he could do what Tribal would have done, so
he just opened his mouth and forced out a word. “Hello.”

*

Franco froze at the sound of the voice. Someone had found him. He turned. The

creature standing a few feet away from him was the same one that Raguel had shown him
in the Heretic. Except that the image Raguel had drawn from the air hadn’t done this one
justice. No misty robes this time. The creature was clad in blue jeans and a plaid shirt too
large for him. He needed to act quickly, but he had questions he wanted answered before
he returned this one to Hell.

“Darius, I bind you by your name to be completely still.”
The creature’s eyes widened, and Franco heard the gasp of breath being cut off. He

moved closer, watching the creature carefully. He’d dealt with angry demons and
drunken demons and even sexually aroused demons, but none had ever looked as
uncertain as this one did. The creature didn’t move, so he had to be a demon. The binding
spell wouldn’t work on a human. Except demons didn’t really breathe. That was just an
illusion. Except this one seemed to be turning blue. “I permit you to breathe.”

Nothing happened, but he could sense fear radiating from the creature. “Darius, by

your name I order you to breathe.” He heard the indrawn gasp of air. Still, it was
probably nothing more than a well-done illusion. He reached into his jeans pocket, pulled
out a small vial of chrism oil. The priests did provide some useful tools. He twitched the
too-large flannel shirt open and used the oil to sketch a cross on the creature’s chest.
Nothing happened. No blistering, no hiss of heat. Just the feel of soft, smooth skin under
his finger. “Darius, I command you by your name to answer my questions. Do you
understand?”

“Yes.” The voice was soft.
“Tell me what you are.”
The creature opened and closed its mouth, but no sound came out. Now he had it. It

was struggling to conceal its identity. “Darius, I command you by your name. Tell me if
you are a demon.” He could see the chest move with the ragged breath and feel warm air
from the creature’s lungs from where he stood.

“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” He wondered if it were possible for a demon to suffer some sort

of amnesia. “Then why did you come here?”

“To find you.”
“You came to earth to find me?”
The blue eyes looked desperate, as if he somehow wasn’t asking the right questions.

“No, to this room.”

Franco considered the answer. He’d had a few demons attack instead of fleeing.

“Why do you seek to find me?”

This time the creature held its breath deliberately. It wanted to avoid answering.

“Darius, I command you. Answer me.”

The words came out in a rush unpunctuated by breath. “Because Marcus said I need

to seduce you to keep you from sending me to Hell.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “I see. And have you seduced anyone before?”
“No.” The voice was hesitant. Alluring.
“Tell me what realm of Hell you came here from.”
This time the breath that came before the answer seemed almost a sigh of relief. “Not

Hell. Heaven.”

Franco looked him up and down. Damn, he was beautiful enough to be telling the

truth, but Raguel would never have sent him to deal with one of the Heavenly creatures.
So, this demon had to be lying. “Well, Darius of the Heavenly realm, if you speak the
truth I unbind you.”

The eyes closed first, then the head dropped. Franco caught him before he hit the

floor. Then he realized he’d just placed himself in dangerous and unprotected contact
with a demon. Well, what should be a demon because Darius wasn’t clawing or
scratching, just struggling to get to his feet. A heavy hand clasped his shoulder.

“Honey, just who the hell are you?”
Franco turned. A woman stood in the doorway, bright red lips pressed tightly

together. As he straightened to his full height, still holding Darius with one arm, he
realized she stood eye-to-eye with him and the shoulders under her dress matched his.
Damn, she was one hell of a drag queen. He shifted his shoulders in the tight T-shirt.
“I’m a new Security guard.”

“Like hell, honey. I am Miss Chitlin, and I approve all the security guards.” She ran

her eyes down his body. “Mind you, I’d certainly approve of you, but my mind ain’t so
far gone that I’d forget you. Now, before I call a real policeman and have you arrested for
trespassin’, why don’t you let that boy sit down. Then you can tell me who you are and
why you’re here.”

Franco considered his options. Darius might run or attack if he let him go. He would

if he was a demon, but that seemed less and less likely. Still he was going to have a little
trouble explaining why he was in the club in a stolen security guard shirt if Miss Chitlin
did call the cops.

“I’m okay,” Darius said, straightening a little in his embrace. “He caught me because

I fell.”

Chitlin gave a disapproving sniff. “Honey, don’t tell me this is that damn Raguel that

threw you out all naked? ’Cause if he is, I don’t care how handsome he is, you can do
better.”

“He’s not Raguel,” Darius said, then stopped, as if he wasn’t sure what came next.
“My name is Franco.” If Darius wanted to help, he wasn’t going to object. “I came

pick up Darius after Raguel, umm, misplaced him.”

Chitlin snorted. “Misplaced? Well, you go tell Raguel he can’t have him back.”
“He’s not going back to Raguel,” Franco said. “I’m just here to make sure he gets

where he needs to go safely.”

Chitlin crossed her arms and frowned. She looked at Darius. “Do you want to go

with him?”

Darius nodded. “I think I need to.”
Franco pulled out his wallet. “I can pay you for any expenses.”
Chitlin slapped at his hand. “Put that away. Darius has been a pleasure to have

around. He’s the quietest, politest boy I’ve met in a long time, but he doesn’t seem so
sure about you. You understand that he doesn’t have to go anywhere he doesn’t want to
go? Now just how do you know about him anyway? How’d you know he was here?”

“A friend told me I’d find him here.”
“Name? Honey, getting information out of you is like getting—”
Franco grabbed the only name he could think of. “He calls himself Tribal.”
Chitlin stiffened. “Now, wait just a minute. I don’t care what Tribal told you, but

Darius here isn’t available for that sort of thing.”

So this was one of Tribal’s haunts. The little demon got around. Franco raised a

hand, palm out. “No, no, that’s not why I’m here. Darius needs someone to help him find
his way.”

“And where are you helping him find his way to?”
Franco sighed. He generally didn’t have to play twenty questions while capturing a

demon. “The Paradiso for now.”

Chitlin nodded and stepped closer to Darius. “If Big Boy here gives you any trouble,

have the front desk call me.” Then she drew herself to her full height and glared at
Franco. “And you take that security shirt off. Next time you want to wear one, fill out an
employment application. I don’t hand them out to just anyone.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Franco let go of Darius and pulled the shirt off. He handed it to

Chitlin who tossed it on a table.

Darius hadn’t moved. He just stood there, looking like he wasn’t sure what to do

next. Franco took a moment to consider his options. He’d never had a demon simply
surrender and wait for him. Or had a big ass drag queen standing guard when he captured
one. There was no need to tackle Darius, and he couldn’t slap handcuffs on him here in
front of Chitlin. He just hoped Darius stayed as calm as he seemed until he could get him
away from anyone who might be in danger. He stepped aside and gestured toward the
door. Darius didn’t move.

He silenced a huff of frustration and reached out to put what he hoped looked like a

friendly arm over Darius’s shoulder. “Darius, come with me.” He felt Darius stiffen at his
touch. Without thinking, he pulled him closer and gave him a hug. Darius put a tentative
arm around his waist, and Franco led him down the hallway.

He tightened his grip before opening the door to the alley. If Darius was going to

run, it would be as soon as he hit sunlight. Demons hated sunlight. He swung the door
open. Darius didn’t run. He stepped into the alley and blinked at the light. Nothing more
than that.

Chapter Six

Darius blinked in the sudden bright light and snuck a look at the hunter. Franco’s

shoulders were broader than even those of the warrior angels. Darius swallowed when
those shoulders flexed as the hunter pulled a pair of metal rings joined by a chain from
the back of the belt. Then he took Darius’s hands and locked the rings over his wrists.

“How’s that feel?”
Unsure what answer the hunter was looking for, Darius moved the bangles on his

wrist. “The metal is cold.”

“No stinging or burning?
Darius shook his head. Franco pressed his lips together and made a hmm sound.

Then he pulled something over his head. A silver cross on a chain. Darius stared at it.
He’d heard that for humans this was a representation of the Presence. Franco held the
chain in both hands and lifted it up. “Any objection?”

Darius shook his head and let Franco drop the chain over him. He felt the metal slide

over his hair, and the cross settled where his shirt hung open.

“Any problems with that?”
Darius shook his head again. The cross felt warm against his skin, but only as warm

as lying against Franco’s chest would have made it. He reached up and touched it with
his hand. “Do you want me to wear it?”

Instead of answering, Franco frowned. “Raguel screwed up, didn’t he?”
“If that means I shouldn’t be here, then yes, Raguel screwed up.” Darius heard the

anger in his own voice. It felt good. He wanted to scream at Raguel himself.

Franco just grunted. “Either that or you’re the best damn demon I’ve ever come

across.”

Darius caught his breath and stepped back. Anger felt good, so did yelling. Had he

already been changed? Marcus was a demon now, and he’d been an angel until Raguel
tossed him out of Heaven. “I’m not a demon.”

Franco tugged the chain that hung between his wrists and pulled him closer. He

glared. “Raguel pays me to make sure the unholy return to Hell.”

“I can’t return.” Darius’s voice shook. “I’ve never been there. I don’t want to go

there. Raguel made a mistake.” He was so close he could feel the warmth from the
other’s chest.

“I don’t think Raguel will be inclined to let you back in Heaven.”
“I don’t want go back.” His words surprised him, but then his feelings surprised him.

Standing this close to the hunter, all he could think of was Chitlin and Eduardo talking
softly together over breakfast. He wanted someone to talk to him like that.

Franco looked him up and down. “Ah, well, the other option is easier to arrange.”
“No! Please.”
Franco crossed his arms, and Darius stumbled into him. A strong hand grabbed his

arm and steadied him. “Sorry, forgot I was holding the cuffs.”

Darius leaned against Franco. He held his breath and waited to be pushed away. It

didn’t happen. He wasn’t ready to look at the hunter yet, so he kept his head down as he
spoke. “I want to stay on earth. I want someone to kiss me. I want … I want to do what

the guys were doing to each other in the club last night.”

He felt a laugh shake Franco’s shoulders. “Yes, you’re supposed to seduce me. I

haven’t forgotten that part of your plan.”

“Marcus’s plan,” Darius muttered.
“This Marcus comes up with interesting plans, but I’ve never been fond of sex in an

alley, so come along.” Holding onto the chain of the cuffs, Franco headed down the alley.
Darius stumbled as he followed after him. Franco stopped. “Come here.”

Darius stepped closer, and Franco dropped the cuffs. Then he wrapped an arm

around Darius’s shoulders. Darius leaned into the warmth, savoring it.

“This doesn’t mean I’m giving into Marcus’s plan,” Franco whispered. “Just that I

want to get you away from here attracting as little attention as possible, and your
stumbling isn’t exactly angelically graceful.”

Darius straightened his shoulders. “No one chains up angels.”
Franco gave him a sideways look. He leaned so close Darius could feel the warm

breath against his ear. “Sounds to me like angels miss out on a lot of fun.”

“Being chained isn’t fun.”
“You don’t think so?”
He pushed Darius against one of the brick walls, then he pulled the chain holding the

cuffs together up so Darius’s arms were raised above his head. He pressed his whole
body close against Darius’s, and Darius gasped at the feel of him. Franco smelled like
sandalwood and juniper. Then Franco kissed him. It was like the way the men kissed
each other at the club, with Franco’s tongue slipping into his mouth and twisting around
his own tongue. This wasn’t the same as the way Eduardo kissed Chitlin. It wasn’t love,
it was lust. He could feel the difference. He pulled away, twisting his head to the side.

Franco stepped back. He just stood there for a moment, looking him up and down.

Finally, he spoke. “You have missed out on the fun, haven’t you?”

Darius dropped his gaze. He shouldn’t have pulled away. He was supposed to seduce

the hunter, and he’d just missed his best chance. He waited for Franco to send him to
Hell. Instead, that strong arm went around his shoulders again, and Franco drew him
forward. Darius looked at him, hopeful. But Franco didn’t lean close to kiss him. Instead
he just steered him toward the end of the alley.

A few people on the street glanced their way when they emerged from between the

buildings, but Franco ignored them and strode to a large black vehicle. He opened the
door and waved for Darius to get in. Darius tried to climb in, but the cuffs got in the way,
and he stumbled as he caught his foot on the door. With a sigh, Franco steadied him and
helped him into the seat. He undid the cuff from one wrist and hooked it to a metal bar
above Darius’s head.

“That might be a bit uncomfortable, but we don’t have far to go.” He climbed into

the other seat and started the engine.

Darius watched Franco drive. Seduce him? He hadn’t even been able to kiss him.

Marcus said he’d sucked on him. He imagined himself kneeling front of Franco like he’d
seen men doing and taking him in his mouth. He hadn’t expected him to be so big. He
was probably big everywhere. Franco’s hand moved to the gear shift and rested on it.
Darius moved his hand over and touched his bare arm. Franco didn’t move away. Darius
let his hand rest on the hunter’s warm skin until Franco pulled into a parking spot behind
a two-story building.

“The Paradiso. It may not be Heaven, but it’s better than Hell.”
Darius nodded. He waited while Franco got out of his seat and came around to

uncuff him from the bar. This time Franco hooked the free cuff on to his own wrist.
Darius let out a little sigh. Franco couldn’t send him to Hell if they were cuffed together.

*

Franco strode into the elegant lobby of the Paradiso with Darius chained to his left

wrist. Bradley paused where he was arranging a stack of guide maps on a small table.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Franco, and welcome back to the Paradiso. I take it you and your
guest will be dining in your room tonight.”

He didn’t make it a question. Franco wondered if he’d finally broken through

Bradley’s professional veneer. He paused to lean against the back of one of the hotel’s
gilded chairs. He let the metal joining him and Darius clink a bit. “We will?”

Bradley picked up a cushion and set it down at a slightly different angle. “Yes, sir.

After all, the menu at Cuffs is minimal, just appetizers and drinks, and the chef at The
Dungeon quit last week.”

“They had to let him go, hmm?” He watched Bradley’s mouth twitch. So, the man

did have a sense of humor to go along with that encyclopedic knowledge of the town.
“What about Chaps?”

“Best hot wings in town. But stick with Purgatory and avoid the Flames of Eternal

Damnation. I’ve always thought Eduardo over does the hot sauce.”

He’d felt Darius tug on the handcuffs at the mention of eternal damnation and

reached back to take his hand. If the blond was pretending with the innocent act, he was
good at it. “What time does Chaps open?”

“Eight. But the crowd doesn’t pick up until much later. You’ll have plenty of time to

enjoy a meal here at the Paradiso.”

“Which you’d prefer me to enjoy in my room?” In answer, Bradley let his gaze rest

on Darius, who had now moved closer. With his wide blue eyes and his tousled blond
hair, Darius looked every bit the part of a submissive toy boy. Franco was tempted to find
out how fully he’d play that role. He chuckled. “I see your point. Yes, a little privacy will
do nicely. I’ll call down an order when I’m ready.”

“Certainly sir. I did take the liberty of restocking the toiletries in your room while

you were out. I hope everything is to your satisfaction.”

Franco paused. There had been a hint of suggestion in Bradley’s tone. He looked

from Bradley to Darius and back. “Everything?”

Bradley picked up another cushion. “Miss Chitlin called to make sure you were

staying here and to tell me to charge anything for Darius to her if needed. I assured her
that we at the Paradiso are prepared to see to our guests’ every need.”

Franco nodded. Right now he wasn’t sure what he was going to do with his captive,

but he didn’t want to confront Chitlin again if he sent him to Hell. Darius was still
standing quietly beside him, acting very un-demonlike. He might have been acting un-
angellike too. Franco’s only angel experience had been Raguel’s sneering and judgmental
attitude. Darius just seemed lost. Franco gave his hand a tug and led him to the stairs.

“I’m sure purgatory and eternal damnation are just names for the hot wings,” he

whispered as they climbed to the second floor.

“Chaps is where I fell to,” Darius said. “Why would I fall there?”
Franco hesitated. If Darius had only just fallen and hadn’t reached Hell—. He blew

out a breath, he was in uncharted territory here, and Raguel wasn’t going to provide a
map. He suspected that fallen angels didn’t become demons until they reached Hell
where they were transformed and tormented according to their sins. He stole another look
at Darius, wondering what his sin was. Damn if he didn’t surpass Raguel in beauty. Then
again, maybe that was just the absence of Raguel’s perpetual sneer.

They reached the room, and Franco unlocked the door. He stood for a moment in the

hallway. He knew better than to allow a demon into his room. Over the centuries, he’d
also learned to trust his instincts. He took a step forward, and Darius followed with the
soft clink of handcuffs.

*

Darius held his breath as he stepped into the hotel room. He looked around the room

then let out a whoosh of relief. He’d been worried he’d find Raguel or worse waiting for
him. Instead he stood in a room with a thick rug and huge bed. One bed. Just like Chitlin
and Eduardo had one bed in their bedroom. Franco closed the door, pulled a key out of
his pocket and unlocked the cuff on his wrist. He left the one on Darius locked. Darius let
the chain dangle. He stood, arms by his side, waiting to find out what would happen next.

Franco dropped into one of the room’s chairs. “You don’t look very dangerous.”
Darius remembered the orders the hunter had given him in the club and the pain

when he couldn’t breathe. No, he wasn’t the one who was dangerous. He waited.

Franco’s gaze moved up and down, and a smile teased around his lips. “But then,

just looking like you do could put a man in danger.” He shifted in the chair, which
seemed too dainty for his muscular bulk. “So, how do you plan to seduce me?”

Darius stared down at the thick rug under his feet. He was alone with the hunter. He

felt a strange, uncomfortable warmth rising to his cheeks.

“Ah, they knew they had sinned and were ashamed,” Franco said.
He lifted his head. “That sounds like something Raguel would say.”
“It’s from the Bible. You have read the Bible?” Franco grunted when Darius shook

his head. “What? You don’t know your Bible?”

Darius felt a moment of panic. Franco wouldn’t believe he was an angel, and if he

wasn’t an angel, he had to be a demon. He knew those assigned to earth read the
scriptures, but that had never been asked of him since he served the Seraphim. “It was
written for mortals. It talks about lustful things angels aren’t supposed to think about.”

“Lustful?” Franco said, and Darius worried he made a mistake. Franco just shrugged.

“Yes, now that I think about it I suppose angels don’t go forth and multiply, do they. So
tell me what you did in Heaven all day.”

“I sang praise and love.”
Franco raised an eyebrow at that, and Darius realized that Franco wouldn’t know he

was a low angel created to serve those who stood closer to the Presence. Maybe he’d
keep him from Hell if he thought he was more important. Franco probably hadn’t heard
the Seraphim sing, and Darius knew he was good. He took a deep breath and sang “Holy,
Holy, Holy.” Franco just sat there with his mouth open until he stopped.

“Beautiful.” Franco gestured toward Darius’s waist, then down a bit. His finger

waved back and forth, indicating Darius’s crotch. “You’re anatomically correct?” Darius
frowned at the question. “You have balls and a penis?” Franco said with an air of patient
explanation.

“Of course. I’m male. I sing tenor.”

“I see. Do you ever use them for anything other than singing?”
The strange warmth returned and grew even hotter. Maybe its purpose was to remind

him of sin and Hell. But if he didn’t answer, Franco could order him to. “This morning. I
touched it.”

“What? For the first time?”
Darius nodded, ashamed.
Franco started to chuckle, then he slapped the arm of the chair and doubled over in

laughter. Heat burned in Darius’s cheeks and his stomach clenched. Franco was laughing
at him. He’d never be good enough to seduce him. Franco would just laugh harder if he
tried. He could run, but Franco would just track him down. Or Raguel would send
someone else. He wouldn’t even be in this situation if Raguel had listened to him instead
of trying to send him to Hell. And he hadn’t even made it all the way to Hell because he
wasn’t sinful enough. That thought sent a surge of anger through him. “Stop laughing at
me.”

Franco looked up, surprised. He grabbed the dangling cuff and gave it a tug. Darius

stumbled to his knees in front of the chair. Franco studied him. “Tell me what you are,
my little demon, because no angel would bother to seduce the likes of me.”

Darius saw something in Franco’s eyes. Doubt? He hadn’t thought the hunter would

have doubts about anything. “Marcus liked you. He was an angel once.”

Franco leaned back. “I don’t know a Marcus, and I’m sure I’d remember sex with

someone who looked like you do.” He took a deep breath. “Oh, yes, that I’d remember.”

“You don’t remember Marcus at all?” Why would Marcus have told him he’d been

with Franco and that Franco wanted him? If Marcus hadn’t said that, he wouldn’t have let
the hunter catch him. “He said he was with you and that you were going to hunt me. He
said I could stop you from sending me to Hell. Why would he lie?”

“Can angels lie?”
Darius avoided the question. “Marcus isn’t an angel anymore. I shouldn’t have

believed him. He said he sucked on you, and you were thinking about me so I should try
to seduce you.”

“Sucked on me?” Franco’s eyebrows went up. “Would Marcus perhaps be a pest of a

demon who calls himself Tribal?”

Darius nodded. “He didn’t lie? You were thinking about me?” He wanted the hunter

to say yes, because then maybe there was hope. He just wasn’t sure what to do about it.

Franco stood, jerking on the chain of the cuffs. Darius had to choose between

kneeling in front of him or standing to meet his gaze. He rose to his feet. Franco reached
out and cupped his chin, fingers digging deeply into the skin. “So, I’m to believe that
Tribal was once an angel and that you still are? Admittedly, you’re beautiful enough for
an angel, but Raguel would never send me to track you down if you were one.”

“He wants me to go to Hell,” Darius said.
“Does he want you to take me with you?”
Darius tried to shake his head, but Franco’s grip was too strong. Why would the

hunter think Raguel was after him? “I don’t understand.”

Franco released him and turned away. He stomped across the room and stood

looking out the window. “I deal with demons. Not angels. Raguel knows what I am. He
wouldn’t let me come within a mile of an angel for fear I would corrupt him.”

“He doesn’t care if you corrupt me,” Darius said. He stood watching Franco. There

was something in his stance, something in the way his shoulders slumped a bit and the
way he almost bowed his head. “You don’t think you’re worthy enough to meet an
angel.”

Franco’s head went up. “I have met an angel, and I know I’m not worthy. Raguel

makes sure to tell me every time he gives me an assignment. So, you can’t be an angel.
Sometimes life is as simple as that.”

Darius studied Franco. This man wasn’t cold and unmoving, like Raguel. He was

just another victim of the perfection Raguel expected. What had Franco done that would
cause the Archangel to lead him to believe he was so unworthy? “Lust is wrong,” Darius
said, feeling his way through an answer. “But Chitlin and Eduardo want to be with each
other. They share the same bed. Is that lust? Is it wrong?”

Franco turned to face him and his lip tweaked up. “Do you want a theological debate

or my personal opinion?”

“What would Raguel think?”
“Ah, the theological take. No, Raguel would not approve.”
“And you?”
Franco’s head dipped again. That uncertainty was back. “Love is too valuable a thing

to waste.” Darius waited. What Eduardo and Chitlin had was love. For some reason the
hunter didn’t believe he deserved that. Humans seemed very complicated. “But demons
don’t understand love.”

The certainty in the hunter’s voice told Darius what he needed to know. “Then I

can’t be a demon.”

Franco strode across the room and stopped directly in front of him. “Aren’t you,

though? My commands only work on demons, and Darius, I order you by your name to
stop breathing.”

Before he could even utter the first syllable of an objection, his throat closed. He

reached up to grab it. A futile gesture that sent the handcuffs swinging against his chest.
He reached out to Franco with his other hand. Franco didn’t move. He just stood there
watching as Darius’s chest began to hurt and a deep buzzing filled his ears. Franco stood
as solid as stone while the world dimmed.

“Darius, if you are a demon, I give you leave to breathe.” He could hear Franco’s

words over the buzzing, but he still couldn’t breathe. He was falling into darkness.
Darkness, not the flames of Hell.

“Darius, breathe. I command you to breathe.” Something tugged him upright. “By

your name, breathe, damn it!”

Franco’s voice reached through the buzz in his ears and his throat unlocked. He

gulped air. Sweet chilly air. Franco’s arms were holding him, supporting him. He felt
light, like he wasn’t touching the ground. He opened his eyes to see Franco’s brown eyes
watching him. Questioning him.

“I didn’t mean that to happen. Darius, demons don’t need to breathe.”
“I’m not a demon,” he said, glad Franco was holding him. Franco wrapped an arm

around him and pulled him close. Darius put his head on Franco’s shoulder and felt the
warmth of his chest. The strong arms folded around him. “I used to be an angel. But what
am I now?”

Franco’s lips pressed against his hair. “I don’t know. Perhaps something less than an

angel but more than a human.”

But not a demon. He wasn’t that, not yet. He took a breath in and let it out. “What

about you?” he asked Franco.

“Me? I’ve been hunting demons for so many centuries I think I’ve forgotten I’m not

one of them.”

Darius raised his head to look at Franco. The dark hair had come out of its ponytail

and lay across his shoulders. A smile tweaked the corners of his lips, and his eyes were
soft with the long lashes hiding the dark irises. Darius reached up and ran a hand along
Franco’s jaw. “You don’t feel like a demon to me.”

“Do you know what a demon feels like?”
He shook his head. “Do you?”
Franco kissed his palm before answering. “Only too well. Those that run burn with

anger and hatred. Those are the ones I hunt. Some, like Tribal, can seem almost human.”

Darius took a breath and leaned into the hard, bulk of Franco’s chest. “Tribal said he

sucked on you.” He felt another surge of warmth along the back of his neck and up to his
hairline at the words. “He said he was good. Demons probably are.”

“I don’t want a demon.” Franco cupped his chin and kissed him softly on the lips.

Darius barely breathed at the feel of it. “I never kissed Tribal like this. I didn’t even know
the little imp was a demon. I just needed him because Raguel had shown me what you
looked like, and that set my body on fire. I wanted what he could do, but you were in my
mind, Darius. Tribal might have been with me, but I came for you.”

“To send me to Hell.” He still had to face that possibility.
Franco chuckled, then shrugged, making his muscles move in a way that sent a

shiver through Darius. “That is what Raguel wants. I am not Raguel.”

Darius touched his lips to Franco’s. That made a different sort of warm feeling run

through him. “Do humans get warm when they do this?”

“Umm-hmm.” Franco caught his lower lip and pulled it gently down then teased

along it with his tongue. “Are you feeling warm?”

“It’s not me turning into a demon?” If Tribal got to feel things like this, being a

demon might not be all bad.

This time the warm lips stayed pressed against his, gently moving and exploring.

When Franco’s tongue slipped between his lips and into his mouth, he was too surprised
to even know how to react. He stayed wrapped in Franco’s arms, held as tightly as if by a
command. Being held this way was different. He felt as if even Raguel couldn’t reach
him when those strong arms were around him. Franco’s tongue teasing against his teeth
made him made him feel like he could melt. He wondered if Tribal ever felt the warmth
that Franco made course through him.

With a final tug at his lower lip, Franco pulled back. “Did you like that?”
Darius reached up and wrapped his arms around Franco’s neck. “That felt good.

Tribal said you’d want, umm, to lick my balls.”

“Tribal is full of information, isn’t he? Do you want me to?”
Darius closed his eyes and imagined Franco’s warm mouth closing over his genitals.

Even the thought made him start to go hard like he had in the shower. He nodded.

Chapter Seven

Franco led Darius to the bed. Darius had smooth skin with no calluses or bumps, and

Franco found it hard to deny the idea that he’d fallen straight from Heaven to Ybor City.
The question was why. He’d answer that later. Right now he was surprised how good it
felt just to hold the fallen angel’s hand. He wondered how his hand with its sword-worn
calluses felt to Darius. He stopped in front of the bed and lifted Darius’s hand to unlock
the cuffs. He let the cold metal fall to the floor and looked into the blue eyes.

Darius had every reason to be angry at him and certainly no reason to trust him. He’d

been ordered by Raguel to send him to Hell. He’d proven his power over him more than
once by forcing him to cease breathing. And what had just happened worried him. He’d
only planned to stop Darius from breathing long enough to see if he really needed to
breathe. Darius hadn’t faked that reaction. Franco wasn’t sure what would have happened
if Darius hadn’t been able to hear his command to breathe again. Why the hell would
Raguel send him after an angel? Even a fallen one. Did the Archangel really not
understand human desire? Or perhaps he just lacked the imagination to realize that
Franco might not send this captive to Hell immediately.

Franco reached out to stroke Darius’s jaw. “My hands must feel rough to you. I’ve

spent centuries wielding a sword.”

“You feel good. More, umm, like a man.”
Compared to what, Franco wondered. “Have you ever felt a man before?” Darius

may have existed for centuries, but in many ways he had been born yesterday. So far he
seemed intrigued by what he was discovering, but even his own body was still a mystery
to him. Franco was determined to make sure that his first sexual experience was one of
pleasure. He had to admit he’d be happy to make any future experiences pleasurable too.

Darius shook his head, his fingers running along the calluses on Franco’s palms. “I

didn’t even take assignments on earth.”

Franco traced his fingers along Darius’s cheek. His skin felt soft, with no sign of

stubble. “What sort of assignment could you have taken on earth?”

“Delivering messages to more senior angels assigned to observe humans. We aren’t

supposed to interfere, and minor angels aren’t supposed to be around humans too much.”

“Because we can corrupt you.” So Darius was a minor angel. Probably beneath

Raguel’s notice until he did something worth punishing. Yes, that sounded like Raguel.

“I didn’t want to be corrupted. That didn’t matter to Raguel.”
He nearly chuckled at the petulant tone in Darius’s voice. “Raguel isn’t here now. I

am, and you matter to me.” He pulled Darius toward him and gave him a soft kiss. He
realized he was about to find out if angels had pubic hair. He doubted Raguel would
approve of him having that knowledge. He realized he felt a little petulant himself. Seven
centuries of loneliness was enough, and Raguel should have known better than to tempt
him with both innocence and beauty. He looked into Darius’s eyes. “When I make a
promise, I keep it. I can’t make Raguel allow you back into Heaven, but I promise that I
will do everything I can to keep you from being sent to Hell.” There, he’d said it. He was
going to end up owing Lucifer another favor.

Darius stared at him, his expression a bit confused. “Can you do that?”

“Let’s just say I have friends in low places.” He pulled Darius close. “I give my

promise with no conditions. Do you understand?”

The blue in Darius’s eyes seemed to grow deeper. Franco could have sworn his soul

light had grown brighter. “I want you to teach me what it’s like to be human.”

“I thought I’d forgotten how. I could try to teach you to love, but I think you already

know that.”

Darius shook his head. “I don’t know this kind of love. The kind where people are

together.”

Franco ran his fingers over the blond hair, surprised at the wistful tone in Darius’s

voice. “You’ve spent an eternity avoiding temptation and never knowing what it is?
Don’t angels have friends?”

Darius shrugged.
“You avoided those too, didn’t you? Ah, poor Darius.” He kissed him again,

enjoying the soft feel of those lips. “So pure and so lonely. Maybe I can show you love.
Will you let me undress you?” He didn’t want to go faster than Darius was prepared for,
though he longed to rip the clothes from his body and take him on the bed. He probably
only waited a breath for Darius to nod his agreement, but it felt much longer. He parted
the front of the flannel shirt to reveal Darius’s smooth chest. He slipped the shirt off
shoulders that were broader than he’d first expected and down Darius’s arms. He let it
fall to the floor. Then he took a moment to relish what he’d revealed. He was surprised to
find that Darius’s pecs were nicely developed, with rosy nipples that stood out against the
fair skin. “Has anyone touched you here?” He ran a thumb over one of the nipples and
felt Darius shiver.

“It didn’t make me tingle like this before, umm, before I fell.”
“That tingle is just a start.” Franco unbuttoned the jeans Darius wore but didn’t push

them down. Instead he leaned forward and carefully kissed Darius on the lips. Then he
lowered himself slowly, pausing to tease each of those rosy nipples with his tongue.
Another shiver, then Franco knelt before Darius with his hands on the angel’s hips. He
drew down the jeans. He lifted each of Darius’s feet to remove the flip-flops he wore and
slip the jeans off. Then he looked up to see what he’d revealed.

Darius did have pubic hair. Curls as golden as sunlight. Franco’s gaze traveled up

and down the smooth abdomen, taking in the flow of every muscle. Darius didn’t have a
belly button. He paused. Would Tribal have had the same smooth abdomen if he’d
undressed him? He estimated where his navel should have been and kissed the spot.
Darius hadn’t been born, he’d been created. Franco leaned back to look at him. A
creature of perfect beauty, light, and trust. Who was he to think he had the right to
possess such a being.

He rested his forehead against the smooth skin of Darius’s abdomen. “If I do this,

will I corrupt you?” He felt a soft touch on his hair and warmth flowed through him. He
looked up. The air around Darius seemed to glow. Instead of speaking, Darius pulled
Franco toward him, pressing him against his half-erect cock.

Centuries ago, he’d knelt before an angel holding a sword and pledged his loyalty.

Now he knelt before another. A lonely angel who’d been forsaken by Heaven itself.
“Darius, I was a knight once, long ago. When we pledged our loyalty, we placed a kiss
upon a sword. You are my sword, Darius. To you I pledge my loyalty and my
protection.” He kissed him, pressing his lips against a cock as perfect as those carved by

the masters. He felt Darius’s breath draw in as he responded to the kiss. Then, still
kneeling, he looked up at him, taking in the beauty and the glow that seemed to surround
them both. “Will you accept me as your knight?”

“Yes.” The word was little more than a breath.
Franco reached around Darius to cup his buttocks with his hands. His own cock

pressed hard against his pants. He needed Darius. He needed to be touched, to be loved.
To know just once that he was worth more than Raguel judged him to be.

He leaned forward and using his tongue, carefully drew a circle on one ball. He blew

on the wetness and felt Darius shiver. He did the same to the other ball. Now Darius’s
cock pointed outward like something from Franco’s wet dreams. “That, Angel, was just
the balls.” He took Darius in his mouth, twisting his tongue around the still hardening
shaft. Darius’s hands fisted in his hair.

Franco stroked along that perfect cock with his tongue and swirled around the head.

“You haven’t been circumcised.” Darius’s answer was a little moan and an attempt to
push him back onto his cock. Franco untangled the hands from his hair and looked up to
see Darius standing with closed eyes and his mouth half open, his breath coming in little
pants. If he rushed, Darius would come before he’d experienced half of what Franco
wanted to teach him. He opened the drawer to the nightstand with one hand.

Yes, Bradley had refreshed the toiletries. Franco’s hands found a box of condoms

and a tub of Boy Butter. Trust Bradley to provide for every need. He opened the Boy
Butter to scoop out two finger’s worth of the stuff.

He released Darius’s hands and let him tangle them in his hair again. He took that

perfect cock in his mouth and moved back and forth along it, sucking until he heard
Darius moan with pleasure. Then he reached around and found his butt crack. He stroked
along it, using his fingers to pull the cheeks apart. He found the tight little opening with
one lubed finger and pushed. Darius gasped and pulled Franco’s hair, his muscles
tightening in surprise. Franco moved his fingers back so he was just touching the butt
cheeks. He pulled away from Darius’s cock and kissed each ball. “I won’t hurt you,
Angel. I just want to love you as fully as I can.” He let his finger tease along Darius’s
crack. It had been a long time since he’d coaxed a virgin. “Will you let me?”

Uncertainty played in Darius’s eyes. “I, umm, I don’t know how it’s done.”

*

Darius held his breath. He’d made Franco stop, but he didn’t want him to stop.

Besides, he didn’t think making him stop was right if he was supposed to seduce him. But
Franco just smiled up at him. “Don’t worry, I know how it’s done. Just let me show you.
Let me love you.”

Darius glanced back behind him at the big bed. More than anything, he wanted to

share that bed with Franco. He remembered the picture Tribal had showed him of Franco
with his pants down. He looked down at the dark hair. “Do humans like seeing each other
naked?”

Franco rose with a wide smile on his face. One of the knots in Darius’s stomach

untied itself. Franco winked, then slowly edged his black T-shirt up. “Would you like to
see me naked?” He stopped with the material halfway up his chest, revealing the strong
muscles of his abdomen. “Good so far?”

Darius reached out and traced the line of dark hair that led from the top of Franco’s

jeans up toward his chest. “We don’t grow hair here. Do all humans have this?”

“Just the men,” Franco said, as Darius worked his hand under the T-shirt. “Younger

males don’t, and some men remove it to seem younger.”

Darius flexed his fingers in the thick growth of hair on Franco’s chest, exploring it.

“It’s okay that I don’t have hair there?”

Franco leaned close to kiss him again. “You are perfect just as you are.”
Darius ran his hand down the line of hair to the jeans and stopped. “But you aren’t

naked yet. How else are men different from angels?”

Franco pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the chair. “Tell me how I’m

different.”

Darius stared at the triangle of dark hair shadowing the muscles of Franco’s chest.

He hadn’t noticed that in the little image Tribal had shown him. This was much better. He
reached out to lay his hand on the cushion of dark hair. It crinkled and tickled under his
skin. He moved his fingers until they touched one of the nipples. Franco caught his hand.
Instead of stopping him, he pressed the finger against the nipple, which hardened into a
tight pebble. Darius’s breath caught at the feel of it. He felt the hunter shift position as he
slipped his shoes off. They thunked against the wood floor as Franco kicked them out of
the way. Darius swallowed. What else would he take off?

Franco leaned close and whispered in his ear. “Do you want to unzip my jeans? It is

something I would enjoy.” He moved Darius’s hand down to his waist.

Darius’s fingers closed over the thick leather. “Did Tribal do this?”
Franco smiled, softly. “I am not new to this, Angel, but I think it might be best if I

don’t tell you every man I’ve found pleasure with. But I’ve avoided love.” He tilted his
head. “That has left me lonely.”

Darius tried to imagine being lonely. In Heaven there was always the Presence, so

he’d never felt loneliness. But on earth, there were only other people. Chitlin and
Eduardo had a whole club of people who crowded together, but he had felt abandoned
there. Since he’d been with Franco, he hadn’t felt that way, and he wanted to stay with
this big, muscular man. He wanted to touch him.

He fumbled with the belt. His fingers weren’t used to the heavy leather, but he’d

seen Warrior Angels wearing belts so they could sheath their swords. The memory made
his fingers slip. Franco’s hands rested on his shoulder. He felt the hunter lean close and
kiss the top of his head. He liked that. What Franco was doing seemed different from
what Tribal had led him to expect, but he wanted to know more of Franco than Tribal
knew. He tackled the belt again, and it soon hung loose. Now, the jeans waited to be
undone. He pushed the button through its hole, noticing the bulge underneath the zipper.
He paused and just rested his hand on the mound, feeling Franco’s warmth though the
heavy denim. He stroked the fabric, and Franco groaned, his hands tightening on Darius’s
shoulders. He was the one making Franco hard. He liked that. He wanted Franco to groan
when he touched him.

He found the small, hard zipper pull and tugged it downward. Franco’s shaft jumped

into his hand. Darius gasped. He hadn’t expected it to move. The skin felt smooth, but it
filled his hand more than his own penis had the night before. When he wrapped his
fingers around it, Franco’s breath changed. Tribal had put it in his mouth. Darius looked
down and wondered how it had fit. He ran his hand along it, and Franco made a guttural
sound. Tribal had shown him a picture of Franco with his jeans down around his legs.
Darius grabbed the waist band of the jeans and shoved them down. They hit the floor

with a thud. He wasn’t going to let Franco remember Tribal doing something he hadn’t
done. Franco just chuckled and waited while Darius looked down at him.

“What’s that?” Just above the thick, dark hair curled at Franco’s crotch, flames

sprang upward. Darius traced it with his finger. No heat. Just color on the skin.

“A tattoo,” Franco said. “A reminder to myself that my body and soul are given to

the hunt. I’m not a safe partner for any mortal man.”

Darius looked into his eyes. “I’m not a mortal man.”
Franco leaned forward to kiss him. “I’ll make Heaven and Hell fight past me if they

want to get to you.” He stroked Darius’s jaw with his thumb. “May I enter you?”

This was the second time Franco had asked that, and it confused him. “How?”
Franco moved Darius’s hand along his thick shaft. “This goes where I was trying to

put my finger.”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “In there? Men do this?” Maybe Franco was teasing

him. Tribal hadn’t mentioned that men did anything like that. He closed his hand over
Franco’s shaft, feeling how large it was. He wouldn’t … It couldn’t…

Franco nodded. “There is a part of you that’s made to feel me rub against it. I’ll go

slowly and make sure you enjoy this. May I?”

Darius struggled with his answer. Something felt tight in his chest, like it had when

Franco ordered him not to breathe. But Franco wasn’t commanding him this time. “I’m,
umm, I want you to, but there’s this feeling like I can’t breathe?”

“You’re frightened. It isn’t unusual for the first time.” Franco pulled him close,

embracing him and letting him rest against the warmth of his body. “How does it feel
when I hold you?”

Darius let himself relax in Franco’s arms. “It feels good. Warm.”
“Safe and protected?” Franco stroked his hair, and he nodded, loving the sensation of

little thrills that ran through is body. “This is just me holding you. Me outside you. Me
inside you will feel even better. I’ll fill you up so every part of you knows me.”

That sounded good. He wanted to be filled up with Franco. “You didn’t do this with

Tribal?” Tribal would have said if he had. He liked to brag about things, but he could
have warned him that the hunter would want to do something like this.

“No, I did not to this with Tribal. I allowed Tribal to pleasure me, but I didn’t take

the time to pleasure him.”

Pleasure him. He fondled Franco’s thick shaft. Franco was right, it would fill him up.

It would fill anyone up. He wondered if the Seraphim had big penises and felt his face go
warm. Raguel would purge him just for thinking that. He’d already been purged, and now
he was on earth with Franco, who was warm and big. Probably bigger than Raguel. He
pressed his mouth against Franco’s shoulder to keep himself from laughing.

Franco nipped at his ear. “What does my angel think is so funny?”
He tilted his head, inviting more. “Umm, that felt good.”
Franco’s tongue caressed his earlobe, and he felt a warm breath against his ear.

“Confess, what has you so amused?”

His whole body tingled with every breath Franco took. He rubbed his hand over

Franco’s thick shaft. “I thought that you’re probably bigger than Raguel.”

Franco made a hmmm noise deep in his chest. “Not much disturbs the smooth fall of

his robe.”

“You’ve never seen him naked?”

He felt the rumble of Franco’s laughter. “I’m not sure he ever has been naked. Is

there nudity in Heaven?”

“No one looks,” Darius told him. “You think about the Presence and the song, and

you don’t notice things that make you think about the body.”

“Or Raguel purges you?”
“Tribal’s the one who did things. I wasn’t like him,” Darius said, feeling aggrieved

again.

“You still aren’t,” Franco assured him.
Darius felt a different sort of warmth now. One that heated him all the way to the

core. “Tribal liked having you in his mouth. Can I put you in my mouth?”

Franco kissed him, filling Darius’s mouth with his tongue. That made shivers run

down his back, and his own penis grew harder, bumping into Franco’s. Then Franco
pulled back. “Do to me what you want.”

Darius pressed against Franco and let himself slide down his chest. He felt the

roughness of his chest hair and then the bump of a nipple under his cheek. The chest hair
pointed down, leading to Franco’s taut abdomen. Darius paused where the skin dipped
inward and circled it with his tongue. “Is this a human thing?”

“It’s called a belly button. It’s part of being born.”
Darius considered that. “I wasn’t born. I just sort of began existing. What’s being

born like?”

Franco chuckled. “It’s not something we remember. We’re very young when it

happens.”

Darius wondered what it was like, to grow, to change. In Heaven things weren’t

supposed to change, but here on earth, he was already changing. And Franco was a part
of that. He dropped his chin and bumped into Franco’s cock, which curved upward like it
was eager to meet him. His lips found the head, and he parted them, letting the silky skin
of the tip slip inside. He ran his tongue over it, and a bit of liquid leaked from the top. He
tasted it. Salty. Salt was sacred and pure.

Franco’s hands worked their way into his hair, clenching and releasing it while

Darius let the thick shaft slide into his mouth, filling him. Then he cupped Franco’s balls
in his hands and felt their heaviness. Franco made an “hmm” sound when he did that.
Tribal had probably sucked them too. So he moved from the cock to the balls and put one
in his mouth. He ran his tongue around it and felt Franco shudder with his next breath. He
liked that. This must be what Tribal meant by seducing him. He was making Franco want
to be with him. Tribal hadn’t told him it would also make him want to be with Franco.
Maybe Tribal didn’t know that.

Darius let Franco slip out of his mouth and sat with his back resting against the bed.

He just sat, looking at Franco, taking in the size of him. Humans got big. He reached out
and stroked the thick shaft again with his fingers. That would be inside him. He wished
he’d asked someone about things like this. Did Eduardo go inside Chitlin? Was that why
they slept in a bed together, so they could join together? He wanted to be joined with
Franco. He moved forward again and took him in his mouth, feeling the size of him. It
felt good, somehow reassuring to be filled up. If Franco felt good in his mouth, could he
feel as good in, well, the other place? He pushed himself as far along the shaft as he
could. That made him feel like coughing, so he pulled back quickly, letting it slide
through his mouth. “You’re salty. Do I taste salty?”

“Hmm, I may need to taste you again.”
“Maybe I’ll let you. But I get to taste again first.” He leaned forward and took the

shaft in his mouth again. He sucked on him and hummed like he did when listening to the
Seraphim.

“Sweet mercy, Angel. Where did you learn that?”
He pulled back and looked up. “Heaven. Listening to the Seraphim.” Franco reached

down and took his hands and pulled upward until he stood up. “Don’t you like me doing
that?” Uncertainty tightened his stomach. Maybe that had been a wrong thing to do.

“Oh, Angel, it’s a heavenly feeling, but if you do it again, I’ll come before I’m

ready.”

“Come?” He wasn’t sure exactly what the term meant, but he had an idea. “Is that

what happens when the stuff spurts out?”

Franco chuckled. “An accurate description. I want to be inside you when the stuff

spurts out.”

Darius tried to imagine that. He’d been moving his hand really fast when he’d made

it happen to himself. “You can do that inside me?”

“Oh, yes, I can do that inside you.” Franco lowered him to the bed. Then he leaned

over him and kissed him, his tongue moving deep inside him. His fingers pinched
Darius’s nipples.

Shivers ran all over Darius’s body, and he moaned with pleasure, arching against

Franco’s body. Franco’s mouth moved from his mouth to his neck. He sucked the skin
there, and Darius wondered if every part of his body was going to feel like melting into
Franco. He reached up and tangled his fingers in Franco’s hair as the warm mouth
quested down to his nipples. He moaned. He felt like his earthly body had just turned into
quivering energy that responded to Franco. Franco bit one of his nipples, and he thrashed
upward, trying to rub his shaft against the hunter’s taut abdomen. “I think I need to
spurt.”

Franco lifted his head and moved to look down at him. Darius stared into his flushed

face. Franco probably needed to spurt too. “Wait until I’m inside you.”

Darius nodded. “Hurry.”
Franco shook his head. “Oh, no. I plan to take my time, Angel. That way it will be

even better.” He grabbed Darius’s hips and pulled them forward until Darius felt the edge
of the mattress. Then one of Franco’s hands moved to the bedside table and picked up the
jar that sat there. He opened it and scooped out some of the contents. “May I?”

He nodded, his breath catching with nervousness. Franco knelt and draped Darius’s

legs over his shoulders, then stood. Darius’s hips tilted upward as he rested part of his
weight on Franco. Then he felt a finger trace a line between his buttocks to his hole. He
tightened without meaning to when it tried to push into him. But Franco shifted his thighs
so his hips dropped a bit and pushed the finger past all the tightness. Darius squirmed
against the feeling. “I don’t know—”

Franco pushed harder and hit a spot that sent shivers up Darius’s spine and made his

hips jerk. “Yes, that’s the spot. Do you like that?” He wiggled his finger against it again.

Darius writhed on the bed, and Franco’s finger moved back and forth inside him,

hitting the little spot each time. It felt like all the angels were singing inside his head.
Then Franco pulled out. “No, don’t stop.”

“I’ve barely started. Do you want me?”

Darius felt two fingers pushing against his hole. His muscles were still tight, and he

groaned as they entered him. Franco’s dark eyes watched him as both fingers searched
for and found the spot that made him arch with desire. He felt himself opening wider as
Franco wiggled and separated his fingers. His cock seemed to hum with need. He wanted
Franco’s mouth on it again. “Suck me.”

Franco shook his head and pulled his fingers out. “I’m not so flexible that I can suck

you and fuck you at the same time.”

This time three fingers pushed into him. Darius moaned and tried to thrust up to

make the fingers reach the spot. “Then fuck me.”

Franco pulled his fingers out and scooped more of the slippery stuff onto his fingers.

Holding his cock so Darius could watch, he smoothed the stuff over it. Then taking hold
of Darius’s legs, he positioned them so his hips curved upward. Darius felt the head of
Franco’s shaft press against him and held his breath.

“Breathe, Angel. Take a deep breath in.”
Darius did.
“Now, exhale slowly.” Franco pushed, thrusting past his tight muscles in one smooth

motion that had Darius clenching the sheets and lifting half off the bed. “How’s that
feel?”

“Uhh.” Darius tried to breath past the tightness. His fist still clutched the sheets, and

he didn’t think he could let go.

Franco move a little, shifting Darius’s buttocks so they tipped upward more and

rested against his thighs. “Better?”

“Uhh.”
“Hmm.” This time Franco gathered Darius’s legs in his arms and folded them back

as he leaned over to kiss Darius’s lips. “Maybe this?”

The tightness eased. He could still feel Franco filling him and his muscles trying to

push against the unexpectedness of it, but he could breathe. He moved his hips and found
that made Franco move inside him.

Franco shifted his own hips back and forth. He pulled back a little from the kiss. “Let

me know when you’re ready for me to start.”

“You mean we haven’t started?” Then Franco hit the spot inside him, and he felt his

muscles clench, wanting to hold him there and never let go. “There. Stay there.”

Instead, Franco pulled back and thrust against the spot again. Darius arched, rocking

into him. Another thrust and a third. Darius knew he was rocking and moaning with each
movement, but he couldn’t control his body. He didn’t even want to control his body. He
just wanted it to do what Franco was making it do and to never stop.

Franco picked up the rhythm, moving faster. Darius’s moans became one long sound

punctuated with little breaths. His cock rubbed along Franco’s stomach, and he felt the
sensations roll from the spot inside him all the way through to his cock, then back again
with every thrust. A glow seemed to move up around Franco, and Darius knew it was his
soul light. It wrapped around them both with such brightness that Darius thought they
would both melt into it. He let go of the sheets, grabbed at Franco’s arms and held on.
He’d never felt like this. Not even during the songs of praise. Now a new song strummed
through his body and soared into his mind. His body rocked with it, and he cried out as he
felt hot cum spurt from his cock and become trapped between his body and Franco’s.
Then Franco came inside him and filled him with warmth. He lay there, gasping and

holding onto his hunter.

Franco’s arms went under his shoulders, and Franco stood. Darius wrapped his legs

around Franco’s hips and his arms around his shoulders. He rested his head against the
long dark hair and breathed in the deep smell of human sweat.

“Did I please you?”
“Umm.” He didn’t have the energy to say anything more.
“Good. Now we will shower. Then we sleep. Then I figure out how to save you from

Hell.”

Chapter Eight

The angel curled around his body weighed less than Franco expected, but Darius

wasn’t frail. Franco felt strong arms around his neck and lean muscles gripping his hips.
Runner’s legs, he would have said, if Darius had been human. Reaching the bathroom, he
pulled back the shower curtain and turned the water on. He waited for it to steam, then
stepped in. “Time to wash up.”

Darius hummed against his shoulder and unwrapped his legs. He stood on the tile

and shook his hair back. The water darkened the golden glory of it, pulling it flat against
his back and down his butt. Damn, the things Franco wanted to do with that hair. He
grabbed the washcloth and squirted some scented body gel on it. He reached out and
stroked it over Darius’s chest, feeling the swell of muscles on his pecs. Either angels
really were created perfect or Heaven had a workout room. Darius smiled and hummed
sleepily.

“Angel, are you all right?”
Eyes closed, Darius stretched his arms up. “Warm. Sleepy. Filled up. Never felt like

this.”

Franco chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever had this effect on anyone.”
Darius lids opened just a bit. “Not Tribal?”
“He left me in a stench of sulfur with my pants around my ankles.”
“Yeah, I saw.”
That bit of information surprised Franco. “How’d you see that?”
“He had a—” Darius made a box shape with his fingers. “—thing, iPhone, with your

picture. Naked.”

Franco thumped the tile. “Damned demon.”
Darius’s eyes opened. “You’re angry because he showed me?”
Hearing the sudden worry in that angelic voice, Franco grabbed him and pulled him

close. He cupped that slightly pointed chin with his hand and used just enough pressure to
make Darius open his mouth. He kissed him, exploring deeply with his tongue and
enjoying the honey-sweet taste of him. He wondered if all angels tasted that way. When
he felt Darius relax into his embrace, he pulled back enough to speak. “Does that make
you think I’m angry with you?” Darius rested his chin on his shoulder and hummed
again. “I am not angry,” Franco said. “It’s just that Tribal is trouble.”

“Demons are supposed to be,” Darius muttered. “Can’t you call him by his name and

make him do what you say?”

Franco twisted the long, blond hair around his arm and watched the water pour

through it. “I’m only given a demon’s name if he’s escaped. Tribal’s here on his Master’s
orders, so he’s not breaking any rules. At least not ones that apply to him.”

“His real name is Marcus,” Darius said. “In Heaven we don’t hide our names. So,

couldn’t you order him like you did me?”

“Perhaps.” Franco considered the possibility. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance

to find out. Unlike you, Tribal doesn’t need to breathe.”

“Demons can live on earth?”
“Mmm. If they are doing Hell’s work. They cause trouble though. Oh, I can abate

that if I’m in the area, but Raguel only sends me after the runaways.”

Which brought about a thought. Once Darius went to Hell, Raguel would have no

say over his actions, but he’d lose whatever was left of his purity. He’d lose the ability to
love, to care. Franco couldn’t let that happen. There was only one being he could bargain
with. How to barter for a soul? His own was worth too little. Darius’s worth too much.
He needed an answer he couldn’t find.

Right now, he had Darius all to himself. He picked up a bottle of shampoo. “Let me

wash your hair.”

“What do I do?”
“Just turn around.”
Darius did, and Franco knew whatever fear or unease the angel had felt had

vanished. He had Darius’s trust. That was too valuable to lose. He rubbed the shampoo
into Darius’s blond locks, then let them fall heavily over his hands. He gathered the blond
glory and rubbed it over his chest. The tiny ripples of softness against his nipples sent
shivers through him.

When he moved his hands downward, Darius surprised him by bending backward, to

rest against his chest. Franco let go of the hair, and it fell down his torso and over his
cock. He reached down and twisted the golden veil around himself. He wrapped one hand
around Darius to support him. The muscles of his abdomen were just as cut as his pecs.
He could have been a classic Greek statue, if it weren’t for the warmth and softness of his
skin. “Do you know what I’m doing?”

“Washing my hair?”
“No. I’m rubbing myself with it.”
Darius laughed. “Chitlin told me that guys would want to do things with it. I didn’t

know what she meant then.”

“Chitlin knows what she’s talking about. Darius, do you think you could love me? I

mean, if I gave you time to get used to me.” He waited for Darius’s answer, knowing this
was one time when he wanted an answer he didn’t deserve.

Darius straightened and turned to him. “Does love mean we sleep in the same bed

together?”

“Demanding, aren’t you?” He gathered Darius against him, happy Bradley always

supplied him with a king bed. “Letting you sleep alone would be a sin.”

Darius looked at him in surprise, then smiled. “If you care, it’s love.”
Franco reached out and touched those smiling lips. “How did you learn so much

about love?”

“You taught me.” Darius tilted his head. “I’ve been angry at Raguel, but what he

does must serve the Presence. Maybe the Presence wanted me to be with you.”

Franco leaned back against the tile of the shower. He’d served for seven hundred

years without thinking he deserved to be loved, but this was too much to expect. “No one
would condemn you just so I wouldn’t be lonely.”

“But I wanted something I couldn’t have,” Darius said. “Pride, envy—those are

sins.”

“Enough to warrant you being condemned to Hell?”
Darius’s arms went around Franco’s waist, and he pulled close until Franco was

aware of the touching of their cocks. “I didn’t land in Hell. I came here, and Raguel was
the one who had to send you to find me.”

“So you’re saying God has a sense of humor.”
“A sense of justice.” Darius leaned in with the words, letting his lips touch Franco’s.
Franco wrapped him in his arms and kissed back, gently, while the water coursed

over them. Darius had given of himself fully. He’d let himself be taken. Which gave him
Franco an idea. A single hope. Because when Lucifer made a deal, he honored it.

Soon Darius’s head dropped down to his shoulder, and he realized the angel was

falling asleep on his feet. Franco didn’t know if it was the result of two days of stress or if
he’d fucked an angel to exhaustion. He wrapped Darius in his arms and carried him back
to the bed. A nap would do them both good.

* * * *

Darius felt a breath on his lips. He thought of Franco, and his cock started to stir. He

opened his eyes to see Tribal’s green eyes gazing into his.

Tribal’s lips pressed briefly against his before he moved to whisper in Darius’s ear.

“Did you enjoy him?”

“Get off me.”
“Not until you tell me.”
Darius started to object only to see Tribal fly off the bed. The demon hit the wall

with a thud just before Franco lunged out of bed and pinned him with one hand on his
neck. Darius’s gaze moved to Franco’s naked butt, and his cock stirred again. The hunter
was so tense his buttocks were clenched.

“How did you get in here?”
“Dude, I’m a demon.” Tribal wiggled his hips. “Go ahead. Slap me around. I enjoy

it.”

Franco leaned close and growled at him. “I should send you back to Hell.”
Darius was surprised that Tribal didn’t look frightened. Instead he just gave another

shake of his hips. “No can do, Big Guy. I’m a messenger, not a runaway. Besides, you
want to see Angel Boy and me together. Don’t deny it.”

Franco released him with another growl. “Deliver your message and get out.”
Instead of answering him, Tribal sauntered over to the bed and dropped an arm

around Darius’s shoulder. “There’s no rush, Big Guy. And look, you’re getting bigger by
the second.” Tribal turned with a smirk. “Kiss me, Darius. He’ll love it.”

Confused, Darius looked at Franco, who wasn’t agreeing that he’d enjoy what Tribal

was suggesting, but wasn’t saying anything to stop Tribal either. Instead, he just stood
there, the tip of his tongue touching his lips and his cock sticking out. Darius suspected
that if he asked Franco if he should kiss Tribal, Franco would say no. But he’d really
want to say yes. He leaned forward and gently touched Tribal’s lips.

Tribal grabbed his jaw and pressed hard so that he had to open his mouth to the

pressure. Then Tribal stuck his tongue into Darius’s mouth and tried to get it down his
throat. Darius shoved, and Tribal rolled with it, falling on the bed and pulling Darius on
top of him. “Butt fuck me, Angel Boy.”

“What?” He pulled back, staring down at Tribal.
Tribal grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt and pulled it up, revealing his nipples, which

were pierced by curved rings made of some black metal and shaped like horns. As Darius
stared at the nipple rings, Tribal pulled his T-shirt off. Then he arched his back and
twirled his finger around his nipples. “Interested in what you see? Strip me and fuck me.

Come on. You aren’t going to get to stick your dick in that hunter of yours. Don’t you
want to know how he feels when he’s in you?”

Darius looked back at Franco. His eyes were wide and his thick cock curled up

toward his stomach. He seemed to want to say something because he opened his mouth.
Then closed it. Great, Darius thought, Franco could order him around by his name, but
when Tribal was nearby he couldn’t even speak.

“Angel and Demon, Big Guy,” Tribal said from behind Darius. “Come on, this is

your chance. Tell Angel what you want him to do to me.”

Franco open and closed his mouth again. Finally sounds came out. “Take his jeans

off.”

Darius looked back to Tribal. “Men do this? Together?”
Tribal laughed. “Only when they get a chance. Come on Angel, this is any man’s

dream. You wouldn’t want to deprive your hunter of the experience, would you?” Tribal
lay back on the bed and squirmed against the sheets. “Let’s start by giving him something
to watch. And before you ask, yes, men like that sort of thing.”

Darius turned to Franco. “They do?” Franco nodded. “You want me to—” He looked

back to Tribal. “—with him?” Franco didn’t speak, but Darius could see the answer in his
eyes. He turned back to Tribal.

Tribal smiled at him and arched his hips. “I’m all yours.”
Darius could tell Tribal’s cock was already straining against the jeans. Would Tribal

look more like Franco or like him? He reached for the button and slowly undid it, trying
not to look back at Franco. He’d never touched an angel before. Well, Tribal was a
demon now, but he’d been an angel once. He stared down at the zipper and felt the
warmth from Franco’s body as he moved closer.

“Go slowly. Make him wait for it.”
Darius nodded. He ran his hand over the bulge in the denim to feel the swell of it.

“You aren’t as big as Franco.” Behind him, Franco chuckled.

Tribal dropped his arched hips back to the bed. “Not the best way to arouse a guy,

Angel.”

“Franco liked it.” Darius tugged the zipper down. “He was thinking of me when you

sucked on him. So, maybe when I fuck you, I’ll think of him.”

Tribal pushed to his elbows and stuck his tongue out. “You’ve learned to say fuck.

Did Big Guy show you what it means?”

Darius shoved him, surprised at how easily Tribal fell back on the bed. Was he

stronger than the demon? He grabbed the waistband of Tribal’s jeans and tugged them
down. He stared. Tribal had a piece of metal where Franco’s belly button was and
another sticking out of his penis. “Didn’t that hurt?”

“Oh, honey, it hurt so good.” He wiggled his hips and touched the heavy belly-button

ring. “This keeps them from noticing I’m not exactly mortal. Though by the time they see
it, they’re too filled with lust to care. And this one—” His hand moved down to finger the
metal in his cock. “—some men like the feel of it inside them. You should make that
hunter of yours get one.”

“He feels good in me already.” Darius studied Tribal’s protruding cock. It stuck out

and curled up toward his stomach. His own had done that before in the shower and when
Franco touched him. But it wasn’t doing it now. He sat back. “I think I only get hard for
Franco.”

Franco chuckle deeply and sat on the side of the bed. “Perhaps I should join in the

fun.” He grabbed Tribal’s arm and tugged him up. “On your knees, Demon Boy.”

“Ohhh, order me around, Hunter.” Tribal flipped around so he was on his knees with

his butt to Franco.

“Yes, you seemed to enjoy it last time.” Franco put a hand on Tribal’s neck and

pushed him down. Tribal lowered his front half and raised his butt. Franco kissed
Darius’s neck. “Now I’m going to help you enjoy something few men experience.” He
grabbed the jar of slippery stuff from the bedside table, twisted the top off, and held it
out. “Scoop some on your fingers.”

Darius remembered how Franco had done this part and stuck two fingers into the jar.

The stuff felt cold and slippery but not bad. He looked at Tribal’s wiggling butt. He still
wasn’t feeling anything.

Franco brushed his cheek with a kiss. “Don’t worry, Angel. I know how to make you

hum with pleasure. First, I want you to kneel behind him, but raise yourself up so I can
touch you.” He scooped some of the slippery stuff onto his own fingers. “Did you like
having me inside you?”

Darius licked his lips. At the thought of Franco inside him, his cock started to

harden. Franco wasn’t going to enter Tribal. Once again, the hunter wasn’t going to take
the time to pleasure the demon. That was his choice. But Tribal was right. This was his
one chance to know what Franco felt when he was inside him, and he wanted to know
that. He knelt behind Tribal and wiggled his own hips a bit.

He felt Franco move behind him. “Now, with you, I take my time, so for Tribal this

will be a treat.” Franco pulled Darius’s long blond hair to one side and kissed his neck.
“First,” he whispered. “I want to caress your soft round butt.” Franco’s hand moved over
him.

Darius warmed to the touch and put his hand on Tribal’s butt. Tribal felt kind of

bony because of the way he was bent over. Darius tried to imagine he was feeling what
Franco felt. Franco’s fingers dipped into the crack between his butt cheeks, and Darius
mimicked the action on Tribal. He closed his eyes just feeling Tribal’s smooth skin and
imagining his hands were Franco’s hands against his own skin.

He felt Franco press against his hole. His muscles tightened like they had before. He

knew he liked the feel of Franco inside him, and tried to relax. He noticed that Tribal
didn’t tense when he mimicked Franco’s actions. His fingers slid inside the demon, and
he felt warmth and smoothness. Franco leaned against him and bent him over just a bit.
He pushed a single finger in. Darius took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Franco
moved back and forth, seeking the spot that sent shivers through him. Darius knew when
he found that spot inside Tribal because the demon moaned. Then Franco hit his spot. He
arched back against him and felt his penis stiffen. Tribal didn’t make him hard, but his
body already wanted Franco.

“Just relax and let me guide you.”
Darius breathed in and out, relaxing to Franco’s touch. When Franco pulled back and

slipped in his second finger, he did the same with Tribal. Franco kissed the back of his
neck while his fingers slowly loosened him. His other hand caressed Darius’s nipples,
turning them to tight little buds of sensitivity. Darius couldn’t reach Tribal’s nipples
without moving so he settled for moving his fingers around inside him. Did Franco like
this, feeling the warmth within him?

Then Franco’s pulled his fingers out and pressed his body against Darius. His cock

rubbed up and down Darius’s butt crack without entering him. “Try this with Tribal. Just
to give you a little practice with the motion.”

He pressed against Tribal and moved up and down. His penis stiffened even more.

He remembered how he’d felt when Franco was inside him and how his whole body
hummed with energy. Could he make Tribal feel like that? The concern surprised him.
Angels weren’t supposed to worry if demons were sexually satisfied.

“Are you ready to go into him?” Franco asked.
“I think so. Tribal?”
“Shove it in, Angel Boy. You aren’t going to hurt me.”
Franco reached around from behind and put his hand on Darius’s cock. He

positioned it so the head touched Tribal. “Now push.”

Darius did, feeling tightness and warmth as Tribal’s body closed around him. Tribal

wiggled and tightened his muscles, and Darius throbbed with pleasure. “Does it feel this
good when you’re in me?”

Franco kissed him. “Better.” He swept Darius’s hair up and draped it over his

shoulder. “Raise up a bit.”

Darius did. Franco’s finger slipped out of his butt, and he felt the press of the head of

Franco’s cock against him. He knew he was still tight, so he bent over Tribal’s back and
grabbed onto the demon’s arms for support. He took a deep breath and let it out as Franco
pushed into him.

“Damn, Angel Boy, you’re going to leave marks. Still hurts when he shoves in,

huh?”

Darius struggled to breath past the tightness. “A little.”
Tribal chuckled. “Learn to ride the pain. Make him shove in harder.”
Franco supported his hips as he pushed, working his way inside. “Tribal has different

tastes in sex. Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll change position.”

“It’s kinda tight,” Darius admitted.
“Tell me how I should move.”
“Down maybe.”
“Like this?” Franco lifted Darius’s hips as he moved downward.
The tightness was still there. Darius wiggled, seeking the feeling that sent shivers

through him. “Maybe up?”

Tribal dropped onto the bed, sputtering with laughter. He spread his arms out. “I’m

lying here waiting to be fucked, and you two are still reading the manual. Someone fuck
me!”

“Fine, if that’s what you want.” Darius grabbed Tribal’s hips and shoved into him,

slipping into the warmth. When he pulled back, he impaled himself on Franco. He
grunted at the sensation then he thrust back into Tribal, who tightened around him. That
felt good, and he groaned with the pleasure of it. Maybe he could make Franco feel the
same way. He tensed his muscles as he pushed back against him. Franco made a low
rumbling sound. Darius thrust into Tribal and then moved back to Franco again. He felt
more in control than he had the first time he’d had sex. He liked that. And he liked
knowing what Franco felt when he was in him. That way, he could make Franco want to
be in him more often.

Tribal rocked his buttocks up and gripped his own cock. “Harder, Angel Boy. You

fuck like you’re still stuck up in Heaven.”

Darius shoved as hard as he could, like all his anger was flowing down his cock and

into Tribal. Then he rocked back onto Franco, imagining himself being filled with love.
This was him, he thought, trapped between Heaven and Hell, human and demon, love and
hate.

This time Franco didn’t do the thrusting and all the work, but simply held him and let

him impale himself hard when wanted or hold back when he needed to. Darius liked that,
being able to take as much of Franco into him as he wanted.

Tribal bounced back to meet him every time he pushed forward and then clenched

his buttocks when he pulled away. The sensation sent shivers through Darius. He grabbed
Tribal’s hips, unable even to concentrate on what he was doing with Franco. With a
grunt, Tribal moved to his knees and shoved back so hard, Darius landed against Franco.
He felt Franco come inside him and relished the warmth before Tribal pounded onto him
again. Franco simply wrapped him in his arms and held him while he rocked with the
rhythm. He came with a scream, shooting his cum into Tribal.

“Hot damn, that’s it, Angel Boy.”
He pulled free of Franco and trust hard, letting go of even more anger and frustration

and sending Tribal sprawling onto the bed. He bounced on top of him, released another
spurt of cum and felt Tribal shudder beneath him as he came. He collapsed on top of him.

Franco leaned over and gathered him in his arms. “Did you enjoy that?”
Darius nodded his agreement. Franco pulled him off Tribal and lay down on the bed,

turning Darius around so he lay on top of him. Darius sprawled against the warmth of
Franco’s chest, letting his body hum with the memory of Franco inside him.

Tribal’s body pressed on top of him. “That was fun. Now let’s do it again with me in

the middle.”

He felt Franco’s arm sweep up to grab Tribal. “You are here to deliver a message?”
“Oh, yeah. Be at Chaps tonight at midnight.”
“Midnight?” Franco’s chest rumbled with the word.
“It’s traditional. Work with it.” Tribal pushed off Darius. “Invite me for the next

party.” Darius felt the air rush in to fill the emptiness when he left.

“Are we going?” Darius asked. This could mean the end to his time on earth. Tribal

had told him to seduce Franco, and he’d done that. Franco had said he’d help him, and he
had to trust Franco. Love meant trust.

Franco held him tighter. “At least he left us time for a nap.”
Darius hugged against Franco. He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep knowing what

waited for him. Or not knowing. He lay there listening to Franco breathe as the night
grew darker.

Chapter Nine

Tribal popped in to the Master’s ante room. This time the clerk looked up from his

parchment with a smile. “You should visit more often.”

“Thanks, dude,” he jerked his head to the door. “Which one was I on?”
“Left. I didn’t know they could stay hard like that.”
“Matter over mind,” Tribal turning to the rock demons guarding the door. They both

faced straight ahead with an expression that might have been a smile on their faces. Not
that he needed to look as high as their faces. Rock-quartz cocks as big as a man’s arm
stuck out from each demon. Tribal sauntered over to the left one and opened wide. He
took the demon into his mouth, forcing himself as far down that stone-hard cock as he
could, then sucking hard as he pulled back. He gave the demon three good sucks, then
patted the head of his cock. “Don’t wander off, Big Boy.” The demon only grinned as he
strode through the archway and into the Master’s inner court.

The burning started before he was halfway to the throne. It started between his ass

cheeks and ran inside him. He clenched and loosened his buttocks as he skipped and
hopped across the stone floor. The Master glanced down from his throne. “You delivered
the message.”

“Yes, Master.” He bent in a bow, but he really wanted to claw at the burning

between his legs.

“Is something troubling you, Marcus?”
“Yes, Master.” He dropped to the marble floor and scooted along it to rub his butt.

“Damn stuff burns inside me.”

The Master leaned back on his throne, a smile teasing his lips. “If you had delivered

the message without dawdling this would not have happened.”

“I was trying to show initiative.”
“Well, I imagine getting angel semen up your ass does take initiative. Tell me,

Marcus, should I keep you here and let it burn itself out or release you to earth long
enough for it to wear off?”

“I am yours to command.” Tribal wiggled on the stone and looked down at his cock.

“Damn, now it’s making me hard.”

The Master broke out in laughter. He waved a hand. “Go. Find a way to amuse

yourself until I need you.”

He found himself scooting on his butt on the dance floor of the Heretic. He spun in a

break-dancing move and then popped to his feet. “All right, who wants some Tribal
action?”

* * * *

Darius stared out the Hummer’s window at the crowded sidewalk and the front door

of Chaps. “Chitlin never came in this way. It looks very busy.” He wasn’t sure who they
were meeting inside, but he hoped Raguel wasn’t waiting for them. Raguel would insist
that Franco send him to Hell. “Maybe we should just leave.” Of course, Raguel would
just track them down.

Franco leaned over and brushed his cheek with a kiss. “Don’t worry. I don’t think he

would have sent Tribal with a message if he was just going to send you to Hell. Let me
handle him. We’ve met before.”

Raguel, he thought. Franco had met Raguel before. He sat there, staring out at the

street, until Franco opened his door and held out his hand. Darius took it, finding some
security in its warmth.

Franco pushed through a crowd of guys to the front of the line. Darius noticed the

way the men looked at Franco then moved out of the way. Franco acted as if that was
exactly what he expected, but those men weren’t Raguel. “We’re expected,” he said to
the two big men at the front of the club.

The guy holding a red rope glanced at Franco then at Darius. His gaze lingered for a

moment on the blond hair tumbling over Darius’s shoulders before he nodded and
unhooked the rope to let them through. “Mr. Eduardo is waiting.”

“Eduardo?” Darius whispered. “Are we meeting with him?” Eduardo did know

Tribal. He could have sent him with a message, but it just didn’t feel right.

Franco put an arm around his shoulder and led him into the dim, noisy interior of the

club. “I doubt it, but I think it may not be an accident that you landed here.”

Darius stumbled and Franco tightened his grip. Had someone made sure he fell to

Chaps? “Chitlin took care of me.”

“Convenient that.”
Then Eduardo was there with one of his thick, brown smoking sticks in his mouth.

He took out the smoking stick and nodded at Franco. “Welcome to Chaps. Your party is
waiting in a private room.” He gestured toward the interior of the club. “If you’ll follow
me.”

He led the way through a crowd of men shaking their hips. One winked at Darius,

and he moved closer to Franco. He still didn’t feel sure of himself in this crowd of men.
Then Eduardo opened the door to a smaller, quieter room with none of the flashing lights
from the main room. Darius paused just inside the door. He sensed a presence. An angel.
A high one too. He’d sinned with Franco and even Tribal. Now Raguel had come down
to make sure he went to Hell. He wanted to run, but Franco had a tight grip on his
shoulder.

“He’s here,” he hissed at Franco.
“Yes, I expected him to be.” Franco sounded perfectly calm.
“Raguel. I think it’s him.”
A deep chuckle came from the other side of the room. One of Eduardo’s smoking

sticks flared in the darkness. “Hardly Raguel. Eduardo, perhaps more light?”

Eduardo turned a knob that brought more light to the room then stepped back out the

door. The figure in the corner became clearer. Darius gripped Franco’s arm. They really
should have run. The being sitting on a padded bench that ran the length of the room had
elegant features and dark hair. Darius could even see the aura of wings behind him. He
had to be one of the highest of the angels. Even higher than Raguel. He was wearing
jeans, and Tribal knelt at his feet. From the smirk on Tribal’s mouth, his head had
recently been between those long, jean-clad legs.

The angel took a smoking stick out of his mouth and gestured toward a table. “Join

me.”

Darius stepped back, trying to drag Franco with him. “Don’t.”

The angel smiled. “Ah, I should specify that I only mean join me temporarily at the

table. Eduardo provided me with a box of excellent hand-rolled cigars. Come, Franco,
take one. Darius, been learning a bit about the human side of life, my boy?”

“I’m not your boy,” Darius said.
The angel didn’t respond except to gesture toward the chairs. “Please have a seat.”
Franco pulled Darius close, but didn’t move toward the table. “It will be okay.”
“But he’s—”
“Call me Luc,” the figure said. “Titles are so formal, and sometimes not entirely

accurate. Please, Franco. You loom well, but sit down.”

“I’m not giving you Darius.”
“Franco, Franco, you don’t understand. This is not a battle. There is nothing you can

fight me with.” Luc raised his hand.

Darius pushed Franco backward and stepped between him and Luc. He watched as

his soul light formed a glowing ball just outside his chest and then jumped to Luc’s hand.
Only a thin thread connected back to him. He couldn’t breathe. His legs gave way.

Franco caught him before he dropped to the floor, and cupped his chin. “Dammit,

Darius. Can you hear me? Stay with me.”

He clutched at Franco’s T-shirt. He could see a glow around Franco, like he had

when they’d made love. The glow seemed to be trying to pull energy back from the
thread that linked him to Luc. Darius pressed into the glow. He could breathe and every
breath carried Franco’s scent.

“Let him go!”
“I believe I started this conversation by asking you to take a seat.” Luc’s tone was

soft but commanding. Darius heard a chair scrape across the floor. Franco hadn’t moved
and neither had the others, but the chair stopped right behind him. Darius felt himself
lowered as Franco sat, pulling him into his lap. He wasn’t sure if Franco had given in or
if Luc had simply forced him to sit.

“I’m not giving him up. I want to bargain.” Franco shifted his arms. For a moment,

Darius felt like he was falling, then he saw his soul light pulsing between Luc’s fingers
and Franco’s body. He shivered and felt Franco hold him closer. “Darius, by your name,
stay with me.”

“I’m afraid that sort of command doesn’t work if I want his soul,” Luc said.
Darius watched the thread of his soul light thin to almost nothing. But it didn’t break.

The thinnest line of gold ran between Luc and Franco. Darius breathed in again, taking in
Franco’s musky scent. He could see Luc’s gaze resting on the thread. Then he opened his
hand and the light streamed back into Darius.

“Franco, what have you done?” He sounded more bemused than angry.
“They had sex,” Tribal said from his spot on the floor.
“Yes, I imagine you were involved in that. But it shouldn’t cause this.” Luc raised

his hand and Darius’s soul light leapt to his fingers again. Darius held on to Franco as his
eyes traced the line of his life force from Luc’s fingers back to Franco’s body. Then Luc
waved his fingers and let the light float back into him. Darius felt the constriction in his
chest give way, and he drew in a shaky breath. “You, Franco, seem to own part of the
angel’s soul. How?”

“I’ll give you the answer, but I won’t give you Darius.” Franco’s warm arms held

him tightly, and Darius worried what Luc would do to him. He twisted so he could see

the winged being.

Luc held up his smoking stick and considered it. “I like you Franco. Always have.

You have the cojones to bargain with me when others would beg.” He looked back at
Franco then let his gaze settle on Darius. “Your angel needs warmth and perhaps some
food. Shall I have Eduardo bring us anything in particular?”

“I already ordered hot wings,” Tribal said.
Darius was surprised to see Luc reach down to ruffle Tribal’s blue hair. “He loves

the flames of eternal damnation, but I think Eduardo overdoes the heat.”

“So I’ve been told,” Franco said. “I should have guessed from the menu that you had

a connection here. You made sure Darius landed where you wanted him.”

Luc shrugged. “Had Darius fallen with the others, he would have landed in Hell.

Raguel was careless, and I took advantage of the opportunity. I had plans, but Chitlin
seemed to feel that Darius was more innocent than I’d expected. I knew Raguel would
send someone after him. That it was you was a pleasant surprise. Ah, our refreshments—
”

Eduardo entered followed by a shirtless waiter who placed a platter of appetizers and

a pitcher of beer on the table. The men didn’t seem the least bit surprised at the sight of
Tribal crouched at Luc’s feet, though Darius suspected that they couldn’t see the ethereal
wings stretching behind Luc. His nose twitched at the smell of the hot wings. He needed
food.

Luc put some wings on a plate and added a stick of celery with some white sauce. He

passed it to Franco. “As far as temptations go, this is a minor one.”

Franco held the plate out to Darius. “If you don’t like them, I will order something

different.”

Darius recognize this as Franco’s way of keeping himself on equal footing with Luc.

He knew no human could do that, but right now Luc didn’t seem to be objecting. Darius
took one of the wings from the plate and took a bite. He tasted sweet sauce and chicken
then his mouth seemed to explode with fire. He waved his hand in front of it, and Franco
handed him a celery stick smeared with sauce. He bit into it and the fire cooled.

“That was a rather dainty bite.” Luc said. “Tribal usually sticks the whole thing in his

mouth and sucks it clean.”

“Darius is not Tribal,” Franco rumbled. “Do you want something else, Angel?”
Darius shook his head. “It’s good. Just hot.” And it would be better if he didn’t let

Franco push Luc too much.

“Eat them with the celery and bleu cheese. That balances them.”
“Balance is good.” Darius took another bite.
“Now, if we can discuss business.” Luc stretched out his long legs. “What is your

price to tell me how you’ve come into possession of part of Darius’s soul?”

“Darius stays with me and doesn’t go to Hell,” Franco said. “You don’t take him

there, and you don’t allow Raguel to send him there.”

“A challenging demand,” Luc said. “I can bestow certain freedoms on a demon,

particularly if he does service for me as Tribal does, but Raguel has the right to send a
disgraced angel to Hell.”

Tribal snorted from his place on the floor. “Darius is more innocent than half the

angels in Heaven, and that’s even after having sex with Franco and me.”

“You told me to seduce him,” Darius blurted. “Raguel isn’t going to let me back in

Heaven, and I want to stay with Franco.”

Luc looked down at Tribal. “You’re sure he was innocent when he fell?”
“Didn’t know a damn thing. Ask Chitlin. Can I have another hot wing?”
Luc handed him a plate filled with wings. “She agrees with you, but Raguel doesn’t

usually make mistakes.” Luc turned his gaze on Darius. “Answer me, Angel. What were
you thinking of when you lost your way in Heaven?”

He didn’t have to try to remember. It was as if the scene came forth at Luc’s

command. “I was humming and thinking about being one of the Seraphim.”

Tribal scoffed then had a coughing fit. Luc absently passed him a glass of beer.

“Envy? Pride? Raguel keeps careful watch for those who want to rise above their station.
He’s had trouble in the choir before. It is difficult not to feel pride when one sang the first
note of the holy song.”

“Darius isn’t you,” Tribal said with a laugh. “He only wanted to sing in Heaven, not

take it over. Besides he didn’t know anything about sex until I taught him.”

“You taught him?” The words vibrated in Franco’s chest. “I had something to do

with that.”

Luc chuckled and puffed on his smoking stick. “Darius, who taught you about sex?”
“Tribal told me about sex. Franco taught me how to love.”
“Is that why Franco has part of your soul?” His gaze moved to Franco. “Tell me how

you managed that, and I’ll do what I can to help.”

Franco shifted on the chair then seemed to make up his mind. “Your agreement with

me was that I’d receive part of the soul from each capture I made.”

Luc nodded. “The energy of the demons you capture is what sustains your life force.

In that way, you have part of their soul, but they are not tied to you. You’re saying the
situation with Darius is different?”

“I didn’t just capture him. I captured his heart.”
“Such a sappy, sentimental view.” Luc considered the end of his smoking stick

again. “I never considered this possibility, but I doubt Raguel has either. It tempts me.
First you should know I invited you here to collect on a debt.”

Darius felt Franco stiffen at that. “I suspected as much.”
Luc smiled. “And you wonder why I’ve never mentioned it until now? Franco,

you’ve been a joy to watch. You’ve irked Raguel for centuries by being too useful for
him to condemn but too—shall we say lusty?—for him to pardon. This latest escapade
will be beyond the limits of his patience.”

Franco nodded. “By refusing to send Darius to Hell—”
Luc snorted. “Franco, Franco. You haven’t just refused to send a captive to Hell.

You’ve sinned with an angel. Raguel isn’t likely to excuse that or trust you among the
rest of the Heavenly Host.”

Darius sat up at that. “If Franco goes to Hell, I’ll go with him.”
Luc waved him to silence. “Everyone is always rushing to Hell.”
“It’s where all the best orgies are,” Tribal said. “You’ll love orgies, Darius. You, me,

the hunter, some rock-hard demons, a damned soul or three.”

“I only want Franco,” Darius said, realizing what Tribal was suggesting. “I stay with

Franco.”

“Yeah, but what if he wants to go to the orgies?”
Luc reached down and grabbed the tip of Tribal’s ear and pulled upward. Darius saw

the demon grimace and close his mouth.

“I’ve not said that I’m sending anyone to Hell,” Luc said. “Franco’s use on earth

hasn’t ended for me. I’m collecting my debt, Franco. When Raguel dismisses you, you
will continue to work for me as a human soul.”

“You’re able to do that?” Franco asked.
Darius could see the ethereal wings rising behind Luc ruffle with indignation. “You

challenge me to prove myself? Perhaps you’d like to have this conversation with
someone else?”

Darius struggled to find something to say to calm Luc, but before he could speak,

light flashed and a tall, robed figured stood in the middle of the room.

Luc’s attention swung from Franco to the Archangel. “Raguel, nice of you to join

us.”

“I don’t enjoy being kept waiting,” Raguel hissed, then glared at Darius. “You will

remove yourself from that mortal’s lap this instant.”

Darius felt Franco’s grip tighten. “No, he won’t.”
“You,” Raguel said, “have forfeited your position as a demon hunter without

redeeming your soul. You are dismissed from my service, and your actions have
condemned you to Hell.” Raguel waved his hand and Darius grabbed Franco’s arms. If
Luc couldn’t keep him from going to Hell, he’d go with him. He felt the floor under the
chair shake. Raguel’s lips tightened, but Franco remained firmly seated and earthbound.
Raguel’s gaze swung toward Luc.

Luc smiled and Darius noticed that his wings had settled back to their smooth,

unruffled appearance. He gestured with his smoking stick. “Since you have dismissed
him from your service, I’m keeping Franco to fulfill obligations for me on earth.”

Raguel glared then shrugged. “More long centuries knowing that damnation awaits.”
“Oh, give it up, Prick Head,” Tribal said from the floor. “You lost. Admit it.”
“I sent you to damnation years ago,” Raguel said. “Why are you here?”
“Work release program.”
Luc grabbed Tribal’s ear and tugged on it. Tribal fell silent. “I oversee his

punishment personally, but whips and chains only seem to excite him. On earth, he does
my bidding. As Franco will.”

This time Raguel’s wings looked ruffled. “As you wish. Darius, however, I am

sending to Hell. He may do your bidding after that, but he will no longer be an angel.”

“We can’t have angels roaming the earth, can we Raguel?” Luc asked. “Careless of

you to misplace one. Shame carelessness isn’t one of the deadly sins.”

“It was less my carelessness and more your interference. But I’ll rectify the oversight

now.” Raguel raised his hand.

Darius saw the bolt of light and felt it hit. The ground shivered under him, and

Franco’s grip faded to nothing. Then he fell, through the chair, through the floor and
through the earth itself. Below him stretched a landscape of black rock and fire. He
braced himself.

“Darius, by your name, return to me.” Franco’s voice reached into the depths and

wrapped around him. He rose as suddenly as he’d fallen. The air around him popped, and
he stood once again in the middle of the room at Chaps. Franco leapt from his chair and
wrapped his arms around him. “You’re safe. You’re with me.”

“What treachery is this?” Raguel hissed.

Luc chuckled. “Franco captured Darius and now holds part of his soul. You can’t

send him to Hell, Raguel, unless Franco relinquishes that ownership.”

“Which I will not do,” Franco said.
Darius saw Raguel’s hands clench and knew the Archangel was furious. He held his

breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

“It’s rather difficult to come up with a threat greater than eternal damnation, isn’t it?”

Luc stretch out his legs and smiled as if he were enjoying himself. “Trust me, I’ve been
dealing with that problem for eternity. Just admit that you’ve lost this round and join us
for some hot wings.”

Darius saw Raguel’s hands unclench. The Archangel seemed to take a deep breath.

“I do not consort with evil.” He gaze swung to Darius. “And I pity those who do.”

Darius pulled himself to his full height and faced him. In just two earth days, he’d

dealt with demons, hunters and drag queens. Raguel looked a lot less frightening here
than he had in Heaven. Besides, there wasn’t much more the Archangel could do to him.
“You sent me here.” He let his tone drip with accusation. “But I’m glad you did.”

Raguel sneered. “Glad? How can you be glad?”
“Because you made Franco believe his soul isn’t worth anything, but I can help him

learn that you’re wrong. No one should have to think they aren’t worth enough to go to
Heaven.”

“Franco has had centuries to redeem himself. Would you condemn yourself to be

with him?”

Darius straightened his shoulders. “In Heaven, I wanted what I could never have, but

now I have Franco. Thank you.”

Raguel opened and closed his mouth, like Franco had when he hadn’t known how to

respond to Tribal’s suggestions. Darius felt a new lightness in his stomach. He’d won,
somehow. Then Raguel’s mouth set in a thin line, and he wrapped his robes around his
tall figure before vanishing.

“Guess he’ll never know how good the flames of eternal damnation taste,” Tribal

said, reaching for another wing.

“What will happen to him?” Darius asked.
Luc shrugged. “He’ll do penance for his carelessness, but I suspect he enjoys

penance. He’ll keep a close watch on you, Darius. I grant Marcus certain abilities so he
can do my work here. I can refrain from taking you to Hell, but there is a limit to how
much power I will grant.”

Darius simply acknowledged that with a nod. The powers Raguel could grant

wouldn’t accomplish what he needed to do. Then he let Franco pull him back into his lap.

Franco kissed his cheek. “So I have to figure out what to do with an earth-bound

angel.”

“I believe we have another matter to settle,” Luc said.
Darius felt Franco tense.
Luc leaned back in his chair. “Stop panicking, Franco. I thoroughly enjoyed

watching someone put one over on Raguel. This might be considered this more a reward
than a punishment. You may have realized that I invest in a number of businesses.”

“Chaps,” Franco said.
Luc nodded. “It provides a location to meet with certain clients. But Chitlin already

has Eduardo, and I don’t want to deal with a pissed-off drag queen.”

“Chitlin works for you?” Darius asked.
Luc regarded him for a long moment then winked. “I allow my employees the

freedom to explore their entrepreneurial interests.”

“Then they have to go to Hell.” Maybe it wasn’t that much worse than dealing with

Raguel.

“Chitlin’s talents would be wasted in Heaven. Besides, she’d want to redesign those

robes Raguel wears into something more fierce. But as for you and Franco.” He
shrugged. “The future is still undecided. If you can actually keep Franco here from
lusting after everything in pants, you might be able to prove yourselves worthy of
Heaven.”

“Raguel won’t allow it,” Darius said. Could Luc be speaking the truth?
Luc smiled. “It is beyond Raguel’s control. He can punish the disgraced, but he can’t

move against those who redeem themselves. He’d even have to let me back in if I’d just
stop wanting to take over the place and run it more efficiently.”

Darius took a deep breath and let it out. “You’d let me save Franco?”
Luc chuckled. “I’ve never done anything to prevent him from saving himself.

However, until then, I am going to take advantage of his experience. I own a few
boutique hotels. A small investment here and there.”

“The Paradiso,” Franco’s voice dropped, as if he’d just realized something.

“Bradley’s a—”

“An employee. Human, knowledgeable and not easily shocked. I’ve been expanding

the business around the globe. I need someone to oversee the operations. Someone who
can check into various locations. Someone human, but knowledgeable and not easily
shocked.”

Darius felt Franco let his breath out. “From demon hunter to hotel manager?”
“Trust me, your experience will come in handy. My guests are not always human.

Besides, you’re already familiar with some of my more exclusive locations.”

Franco’s head went up. “How many of the places I frequent do you own?”
Darius heard Luc’s dark chuckle again. “Work with me and find out. Keep the angel

as a fringe benefit.”

“Oh, I plan to keep the angel,” Franco said and pulled Darius close, holding him

suspended between Heaven and Hell.

The End

About the Author:

Marie Dees lives in Central Florida where she enjoys gardening and thinking up

devious plans for the characters in her novels. Her works include mysteries, romance and
erotic romance. The last would surprise the neighbors, but when the weather in Florida
gets hot and steamy, so do her characters.

http://mariedees.com

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