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Authors: Marie Harte

Tags: #red hots;paranormal;demons;angels;dragons;fantasy

Duncan's Descent

BOOK: Duncan's Descent
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‘Tis far better to love in hell than to live in heaven.

Ethereal Foes, Book 1

As a demon of the Ethereal, it's Duncan Sinclair's job to sway humans toward the path to hell. Duncan is very good at his job—until a prank gone wrong lands him in the upper realm doing penance. Now he's being bombarded with love, kindness, and affectionate sex…and it's
killing
him. The only way out is to agree to sway souls for heaven, with an angel as his partner, by all that's unholy!

Sapphira may be an angel of the upper realm, but she chafes in a bland existence where everything is so pure. It's hard to hide her secret yearning for sin. Even harder with Duncan, who's everything the dark core of her soul craves: handsome, sexy and refreshingly naughty.

Confronted with an angel who drinks, swears, and takes him to bliss with her sinfully delightful body, Duncan finds himself at risk of losing his heart to the enemy.

Loving this angel could land him right where he doesn't want to be—heaven. But what's a demon to do when he's falling?

Warning: This title contains annoying angels, smart-assed demons, beer, hotter-than-hell sex, and justice for all.

Duncan's Descent

Marie Harte

Chapter One

The upper realm

“He won't break, my lord. I just don't know what more we can do.” Sarah bowed her head as she stroked Uriel's forearm, and he could feel her praying for understanding. The angelic creature was a vision in her thin white robe and soft, ethereal glow.

Studying the angel in all her purity, Uriel was struck again with his kind's perfection. More than the demons and dragons in the lower realm, more than the humans staining the middle realm—more aptly referred to as the Ordinary—angels exemplified all that was right with existence. Humanity needed them to experience salvation, and the lower realm needed angelic interference to be kept in check. Steeped in beauty, with a devotion to their cause, was it any wonder his kind were the chosen race, the leaders of the Ethereal? Unlike… Uriel glared at the creature responsible for Sarah's upset, a dark-haired, blue-eyed demon hanging by angelic bonds in the center of Uriel's quarters.

Uriel sighed and placed a finger under the gentle woman's chin. “Sarah, I understand better than you know. I commend you and the others for your dedication.” He lifted a brow at her blush. “Then again, Duncan Sinclair is a tempting demon, isn't he? I'm not surprised you had to turn away so many
selfless
volunteers hoping to redeem Asael's pride and joy.”

Asael, that fallen bastard. Sent his son to annoy the piss out of me
. Uriel smothered a curse and forced a smile at his favorite subordinate. “Go now, sweet.” The idea he'd been toying with for some time seemed a necessary course of action now. “Find Sapphira for me.”

Sarah frowned. “What has she done now? I swear I'll take her back to the Ordinary myself and leave her there. After so many infractions, she's not worth the effort Charmeine insists—”

“No, no,” Uriel hastily interrupted. “No need to send Sapphira back to the middle realm just yet. Our novice has been walking the straight and narrow for weeks. In fact, she recently pointed Annua toward three damned souls, giving us three more to welcome into heaven's gates.” Sarah beamed, and Uriel couldn't help leaning toward her wholesome mouth. They shared a kiss, his lips slick against her sweet mouth as he inhaled the basic decency pooling in her spirit.

“Oh, Uriel.” She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I would share my love with you.”

Your love and every other delectable part of yourself,
Uriel thought with humor. Sarah tended to be very…
physical
in her assertions. “Later, sweet. Definitely later.” He laughed to himself, wondering just when humanity would realize angels and demons were, in some respects, surprisingly like themselves—the creatures the Ethereal cared for. Sex and love, hate and envy, gladness and sadness. All existed everywhere to ensure balance. Because balance was the key to keeping the Creator happy. Hence the reason for the Ethereals, both good and bad. The middle realm needed constant policing to perpetuate order, and God knew the humans couldn't manage themselves without help.

And speaking of bad… Uriel glanced again at the demon suspended from several consecrated ropes clinging to the energy in the ceiling and floor.
If it weren't for blessed balance, I could have relieved the world of Duncan Sinclair's presence days ago.
But were he to harm a hair on Duncan's damned head, his father, the powerful Asael, would take great delight in destroying him. As mighty as Uriel knew himself to be, only one with dismal intelligence would take on Asael, fallen archangel and ruler of the demon world.

Huffing at the injustice of it all, he returned to Duncan's side.

Studying the sleeping demon—and how in heaven the demonic creature could sleep bound hand and foot and upright was beyond him—Uriel wondered what it was that drew his angels to such corruption. Not denying Duncan's beauty, Uriel knew there was more, and sought answers to the questions that plagued him. Losing Asael to the lower realm a thousand years ago had been a blow to the upper realm. But in time they'd acknowledged he belonged in the Abyss, organizing demons and the scum who littered the lower realm. But Duncan…something about the demon screamed redemption. The challenge of it was eating Uriel alive.

Brutality hadn't convinced Duncan to switch sides, not that Uriel had expected that tactic to work. Honestly, he'd have been disappointed to see Duncan cave so easily. Not only had he healed Duncan after several unsuccessful bouts with pain, he'd tried winning the sarcastic demon over with heavenly gifts. Thus far in Duncan's nine-day tenure, he'd been pleasured beyond belief by Uriel's many angels. The demon had been gifted with a look into the upper realm few of his kind ever received, unless, like Asael, they'd Descended. Bowers of fruits, wines and any and everything the man could want were his for the asking, if only he'd reconsider swaying souls for heaven instead of hell.

Duncan suddenly blinked awake, treating Uriel to bright blue orbs of rage. “What the fuck do you want?” he growled, his naked body straining to be free.

And then there was that attitude to overcome.

“You know, Uriel, throwing your ass in that dumpster was one of the most rewarding things I've ever done.” Duncan snickered. “You were covered in trash, and we'd just kicked the shit out of you and your team. Annua, Zephon, and Daniel, if I remember correctly.”

“Was that before or after the dragon raped your sister?” Unfortunately, references to the unpleasant union between the ruler of the dragon legion and Duncan's sister, Eve, failed to elicit the desired effect.

Duncan laughed. “Raped? Please. Eve had him by the balls from the get-go. My sister's a first-class demon.” With a wicked twist of his lips, Duncan shot a breath of blue flame at the brand new sheets on Uriel's bed. “You tired of me yet or what? I don't get much better than this.”

“Asael promised me ten days of penance, Duncan.” Uriel scowled, unable to help himself, and overturned a nearby pitcher of holy water on his bed. “Your foolish stunt cost several angels their bodies. You put us at war with the dragons.” By blaming the angels for the theft of a precious, royal dragon egg. What a mess that had been.

Duncan grinned, a wide smile that had Uriel itching to wipe it off his face. But they'd been down that road, and violence only seemed to improve Duncan's stubbornness.

“So you lost bodies. Your soldiers only had to return to the upper realm to wait for more to be born.”

“Yes, but unlike
your
kind, we then need to wait for the physical form to mature. We don't possess the living.” Uriel spat the offensive thought.

“Admit it, you needed the workout. So my prank on the dragons was at your expense. It was just a joke, Uriel. Hell.” Duncan tugged again at his restraints. “Not my fault your
defenders of innocence
are a bunch of pussies.”

Uriel slapped him across the face just as Sapphira entered the room, flanked by Sarah and Abigail. Nothing like losing control in front of his subordinates. Wonderful. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, a headache brewing.

Sapphira stopped dead, her light brown eyes wide. “Uriel?”

Duncan's gaze wandered to Sarah and Abigail, and he groaned. “Not them again. No offense, Sarah, but you kneel before me one more time with that mouth open and I'm going to spank the living holy out of you. I swear you'd do the succubae proud.”

Sarah blushed. “Thank you, Duncan,” she said shyly. “It's the measure of the love I hold deep in my heart for you.”

Abigail smiled. “You've missed us, admit it.” As her gaze took in his sensually hewn features and darkening expression, Uriel admitted the demon possessed the same attraction his father had to the opposite sex. And then a flash of amusement hit him as Abigail gaped at Duncan's scowl…and his rising erection. “You
did
miss us.”

“Satan on a stick,” Duncan swore and turned his attention to Sapphira. To Uriel's surprise, however, he said nothing, merely studied her.

Sapphira wasn't so unaffected. She deliberately looked away from Duncan. “My lord, you summoned me? Am I to be punished again by having to share space with this vile demon?”

“Vile?” Duncan looked insulted. “Baby, you want vile, try having your cock sucked by Sister Goodness and Sister Light. And have Father Holy stand witness.” Duncan scoffed and turned to Uriel. “I knew you were a huge perv.”

Sapphira and the others gasped, and Uriel stilled his fist clenching to strike and made his decision. Asael hadn't sent his son to heaven for ten days as a peace offering. No, the cagey demon lord thought to use Duncan to make Uriel suffer, but he had underestimated his foe. Because Uriel didn't plan on sending Duncan back to hell a demon.

Uriel glanced from Sapphira's shocked look to Duncan's sneer. No, if he played this right, Uriel could kill two birds with one stone. He'd redeem the changeling in their midst, an angel with too much beauty and too much hunger to control. And, in the doing, he'd send Duncan back to hell a redeemed angel, Ascended into the fold his father had so scornfully cast aside.

Duncan called himself ten kinds of fool as he stared at the most striking angel he'd ever seen. Thank hell this one didn't seem to like him much. He didn't think he could handle more hands of radiance and right pushing his body into an orgasmic frenzy. He'd have thought that after nine days of constant climaxes, perfect food and a gracious if conceited host, he'd be reeling with delight. But the angels he'd encountered treated sex with wholesome decency. The food made him sick to his stomach, blessed before each meal. And Uriel, well, Uriel he'd like to bend into a pretzel and tear apart piece by piece. The arrogant prick took great delight in watching his angels torture Duncan, when not beating him senseless. Though he wasn't into pain, he could handle Uriel's fists. Acts of kindness, sex and love, however, were driving Duncan friggin' nuts. And if he hadn't realized his father meant to torment Uriel with Duncan's stubbornness, he might have cried uncle and demanded to be set free. By heaven's gate, what kind of sadistic bastard turned what could have been great sex into suffering? Even his father wouldn't stoop so low.

Sapphira, the looker, pursed her lips and frowned at him before turning a demure gaze back to Uriel. “My lord, I'm supposed to be harmonizing with Mother, to put the gang riots to an end.”

Uriel shook his head. “No, this supersedes Charmeine's work. Our guest is of the highest priority. And I've decided that the only person to handle him is you.”

“Me?” she whispered.

For all that she stood a mere head shorter than Duncan and looked like an Amazon warrior, Sapphira kept her gaze downcast and her voice low with reverence.

Damn, but that voluminous white robe hugged her curves every time she shifted, not to mention the stark contrast of the white material against her bronze skin. Unlike many of the others, Sapphira had a darker coloring, one that made Duncan think of smooth caramels and decadent nights. Light brown hair flowed down her back and framed a soft forehead, high cheekbones and stubborn chin. Her lips parted in protest, he surmised, and a vision of her on her knees suckling him struck him with an intensity that took his breath away.
Shit.
His dick spiked again.

She gnawed her lower lip and kept shooting him glances while Uriel droned on about duty, promises and angelic necessities. And the more she stared, the harder Duncan grew. He couldn't explain it, but this one got to him on a level the others hadn't. And that worried him.

“Uriel, do whatever you want,” he threw in casually to break Uriel's long-assed lecture. “One more day and I'm outta here.”

“Not quite.”

“Don't even—”

“You see, what your father failed to ascertain, before sending you up here, were the details to his arrangement. Your foolish stunt killed twenty of my soldiers. Now I'm short twenty angels, several of whom were used to balance the Ordinary. Thus, you will remain in the upper realm, or under my power at least.”

“Bullshit. I'm not staying up here until you grow new angels to sway souls for heaven. Recruit. Shift duties. Mingle the choirs. I don't care. But I'm not to blame because your soldiers can't take a hit.”

Sapphira, he noted, watched him as closely as she watched Uriel. The woman seemed fascinated by the byplay.

“First of all, restoring balance to humanity, as you well know, isn't an easy task. It takes time and patience.”

“That you severely lack,” Duncan muttered.

Uriel smiled through his teeth and ran a hand down Duncan's arm, burning him with the utter purity of his power. When they fought in the middle realm, angels and demons touched with no repercussions. But in the Ethereal, contact between the races literally hurt.

Uriel took his hand away, exposing a deep red burn that would hopefully mend without scarring, since it didn't look as if Uriel planned to heal him. “I have angels in training as we speak, but the balance shifts each second of every minute of every day. You've served nine days of your sentence, and in nine days I've replaced just
two
of my Decision makers. By my estimation, you have another month to fulfill the obligation Asael promised me.”

“Son of a—”

The bindings securing him suddenly disappeared, and Duncan dropped to his feet. A white cloth appeared and wrapped itself around him, toga-style. The burn on his arm vanished as if it had never been. Far from appeased and fuming at Uriel's nonsense, Duncan took a step toward the exit when Uriel's next words stopped him cold.

“I have your father wanting a word.”

Duncan turned to see Uriel holding a small quartz crystal. Reluctantly catching the quartz aimed at his head, Duncan shook with the violence of the message reverberating through him.


Stay the thirty days, and not one minute more. Somehow the bastard outplayed me, a surprise. Didn't think Uriel had it in him.
” Asael's heavy words ricocheted through Duncan's skull. “
But remember what I said. I want information—plans and the networking that's allowing angelic spies into the Abyss. Your sister's working hard to keep the souls of the blood elves in hell. But those shifty angels aren't helping. Oh, and if you run into a Virtue named Charmeine, steer clear. That woman has an ax to grind with me, and I'm sure she'll take all her bitchy righteousness out on you. And Duncan, after that last fiasco, I don't have to tell you not to fuck this up.

BOOK: Duncan's Descent
5.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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