Duncan's Descent (5 page)

“Screw that.” At Duncan's questioning look, she shook her head. “He's all yours.”

With a grin that lit the room, Duncan muttered under his breath. Both Colleen and Nathan went slack, their eyes wide and unseeing. Duncan's body locked up and seemed to almost grow in size. His eyes burned a sexy wash of demonic
blue
flame, a sight she'd never before seen and would never forget. She listened as he spoke calmly with Nathan, and before she knew it the process was over before it had begun.

Sapphira had been on the cusp of understanding when Duncan blinked and stepped back. “Sorry to disturb you both.” He took Sapphira's hand in his and pulled her toward the door. “And since you apparently don't need any new magazine subscriptions, we'll be leaving.”

Nathan and Colleen blinked at them and slowly nodded.

“Best of luck with sales,” Nathan said slowly, rubbing his temple. “Like I said, try the floor below us. A lot of them have younger tenants, more into entertainment and gaming magazines, I'd imagine.”

Duncan waved goodbye and had them out the door before Sapphira could protest. She walked with him down the hall toward the elevators and stopped.

“Are you going to explain what just happened?” She couldn't get the image of Nathan's misdeeds out of her mind.

“Is it hurting?” Duncan asked softly. “First time, right?”

“Yeah.” She blew out a breath. “But not one word about my inexperience, or I swear—”

He cut her off with a gentle kiss that melted her ire and replaced the terrible images she'd seen with warm, drugging pleasure.

He broke it off and hugged her tight, tucking her chin on his shoulder. “Better?” His husky voice reminded her of just what they'd shared before the Shepherds' house call, and she squirmed against the hardness pressing her for more.

“Ah, yeah. Thanks.” Sapphira swallowed and stepped back. “What now?”

Duncan shrugged. “Your call, fearless leader. I'm just the lackey, remember?”

He would have to remind her of that. Great. And he was right.
She
had decided to send Nathan Shepherd to hell. She'd been the one to deny the creep his shot at forgiveness. Oh man. Talk about a major screw up. And not only had she lost the first sway on her list, but she was no closer to convincing Duncan to join heaven's team.

“I think I need another drink.”

Duncan laughed, and his good mood restored some of her own. “I know just the place.”

“Holy crap! Nice spread.” Sapphira glanced around at the eighteen-hundred-square-foot penthouse apartment overlooking the river. They'd left the Shepherds' condo and taken a taxi into the city, to Duncan's private pad.

Pleased to spend the extra time in the Ordinary while she tried to come to grips with what she'd experienced, she listened to Duncan's soothing voice charm her into feeling the vibrancy of the world she'd missed. He tipped the cabdriver after paying an enormous fee, and they took the elevator right up into his living room.

Hardwood floors were buffeted by floor-to-ceiling windows, letting in the fading light of the day. White-washed walls and patches of actual brick filled the adjoining walls, lending an age to the place she could see as well as feel. Black leather furniture, which looked as comfortable as it was stylish, sat haphazardly around the place. And far from appearing cold, this place seemed lived in and relaxed.

“I like to call it my home away from home.” Duncan's gaze rested on her breasts before he lazily trailed it back up to her face. “It's Old City. A lot of history. And it's just you and me.” He disappeared into the small kitchen off the living room and returned with two glasses of wine.

“I'm not really a big drinker.” She flushed, realizing that, in the short span of time they'd spent together, she'd first taken him to a bar before the job and now demanded booze after it. “It's just that this is a big step for me.”

Duncan handed her the wine and drank some of his own. “You don't have to explain it to me. I remember my first sway like it was yesterday.” He sighed, and to her surprise, moved away from her to settle into a plush recliner. “I had to confront a woman who'd killed her ailing mother.”

Sapphira sat across from him on the couch, fascinated that he'd shared something of himself. “A mercy killing?”

“Not quite. The fat inheritance she received overshadowed her altruism. The Decision makes it impossible for the sway to lie or cheat. You saw what it looked like in there. Much as Shepherd tried to put on a show, you saw what he really is. And for those of us who consider ourselves purists, there can be no deceit, no judgment in what we do. The sways pretty much know where they belong, they just need a subtle
push
.” He quirked his lips. “When it comes down to it, we—both angels
and
demons—are there to guide humans along the right path. Not the one toward light, but toward what's right. There's a big difference, which is why when Uriel and his angels start stealing sways, they're pushing trouble—balance-chaos trouble.”

She knew he was right, but still… “Until you touched me, I didn't see Nathan in any other light but the mortal flesh encasing his spirit.”

“Are you sure?” He frowned.

“Yes. No.” She recalled that brief flash. “There was something. A small picture of some sin Nathan had committed. And it was ugly.”

Duncan's frown eased. “Sin always is. That's its nature.”

Sapphira studied him, wondering. “Is that why it appeals to you? Because it's a demon's nature to be ugly too?”

Duncan stared at her over his glass, his gaze assessing. “Angels don't lie, do they?”

“No.”

“But you did, and quite well.”

She flushed. “I, ah, maybe—”

“So your nature isn't to be what you've always been told, but to be who you really are.”

“What?” She took a large gulp of wine for fortification, and promptly set down her glass. Fermented grapes weren't the answer.

“Demons are what we are. We serve a purpose, like those in the upper realm.” Duncan's mien changed, grew more serious. “Because I congregate with the impure, with sinners and monsters, does that make me more evil than Nathan Shepherd?”

“No.” The answer was automatic, and she stopped to think.

“Was what we shared outside your bar ugly?”

“No.” The sheer sensuality behind Duncan's touch had been anything but. “Yet it was a sin.”

“Why? Because your choirs of angels tell you it is?” He snorted. “Let me tell you something, sweetheart. Uriel's minions were spreading their legs faster than you can spell
seduction
while I was tied up and helpless.” He stood and put his wine to the side. “Angels taking advantage of a demon. Trying to turn me into Uriel's runner.”

She frowned, not liking the idea of Sarah and Abigail touching Duncan. Then the second part of what he said hit, and she flushed a bright, guilty red. “So you don't think you'll ever Ascend?”

Duncan barked a laugh. “Hell, no. Just because my mother was human and went to heaven doesn't mean I will.”

“Your mother went to heaven?” A mortal had given birth to Duncan?

“Yeah,” he said sadly. “She had a bad habit of seeing the best in everyone. Dad did his damnedest, but couldn't get her down below.”

“Right, your dad. Asael, a fallen archangel.” Why, Duncan had a thick thread of light winding through him. No wonder Uriel thought he had a shot at turning the demon toward heaven.

Duncan stood over her, his stance aggressive though his gaze was surprisingly soft. “But you see, he and my mother had to be true to themselves. As much as Mother loved my father, she had too much goodness to be happy in the lower realm. And my father, well, he spent enough time in the third sphere to know what he gave up. But he wasn't so easy with forgiveness. Nor did he agree with the upper realm's take on humanity.”

Her mind whirring at the coincidences between Asael's opinions and her own, she failed to realize Duncan's intention before he touched her.

“Hey.”

“Now if you really want to sin, Sapphira, follow my lead.” Duncan kissed her like there was no tomorrow. He touched her with only his mouth, his tongue thrusting between her parted lips, his mouth molding to hers as if created solely to pleasure Sapphira. Cupping his hands around her cheeks, he brought her face closer.

“By hell's fire, you kiss like a succubus.” Duncan breathed hard, and Sapphira felt a measure of comfort that she wasn't the only one affected. “And you were built for sin, Sapphira. Built to love and be loved.”

“Love?” She kissed him back, pulling him to her with a strength she hadn't known she possessed. “Who's talking about love? About forgiving, anything goes, redemptive love? I've had enough of that.” She nipped Duncan's mouth and heard him groan low in his throat. “I want sex. I want to be fucked, to feel the physical needs of those less perfect than the heavenly bodies I live with day in and day out.”

Somewhere along the way, Sapphira had lost track of what she was saying. The blasphemy pouring out of her felt so damned good. And Duncan's touch, his overwhelming presence made remembering her purpose, her mission, a hazy blur not worth the effort it would take to call it forth.

“I can definitely help you out with that,” Duncan rasped, ripping her clothes from her body in seconds. “I can fuck you, Sapphira. I can take you in ways you've never even dreamed.”

She stared at him, mesmerized by the hot lust she could feel pulsing in his spirit.

“But are you willing to pay the price?”

Nearly undone by the hunger burning in his stare, she suddenly paused. “Price?”

“Knowledge, sweetheart. It changes you.” He slowly stripped out of his clothes, standing before her gloriously naked. “When you feel how good it will be between us, you'll want more. And the greedy sin stalking you, the unwholesome lust will build.” Duncan gripped his cock and began stroking himself. “And you'll find you'll do anything to satiate it. You'll forget your duties, your purpose, even let the enemy decide what to do with your sways.”

Her mouth dry, Sapphira licked her lips and swallowed, suddenly hungry for more, and it was a fight to concentrate on his words. “But what if I'm not meant to Decide? I only saw what I did because you were there.”

“I was the catalyst, but you have the power.” Duncan pulled her closer and took her hand, wrapping it around his cock. He closed his eyes and moaned, the silence falling over them as she touched the very heart of his passion.

When Duncan opened his eyes, she knew she had never seen anything as beautiful as the blue fire of his gaze…or anything so devastating.

“I didn't force you to give Shepherd to hell. You did it because you sensed it was the right thing to do. And you disobeyed Uriel. You'll be punished later, won't you?”

She nodded, dreading that confrontation. But she didn't want to think about it now. Duncan tempted and she wanted him.
All
of him.

“You lied, Sapphira. And that wasn't my doing, but yours. Angels normally bend the truth to suit their needs, but they don't out and out lie. You, sweet, did it like a pro.” He took her hand from his shaft and brought her to his chest, sighing at the full press of their naked bodies. “Like an angel readying for her own Descent.”

Before she could process the horrifying truth in his words, he took her mouth, enchanting her spirit and body. And as he moved them into his bedroom and laid her out like a sacrifice to appease a hungry demon, she knew he was right. She would pay a heavy price for acknowledging a truth she didn't want to face.

She glared up at him, hurt, confused and wanting with her last breath.

Sapphira refused to pay the price all by herself. “If I'm going to pay, you're helping to foot the bill.” Surprising him with her sudden move, she had him in her arms and then under her as she took advantage of her demon, one kiss at a time.

Chapter Four

“You want me, demon? You got me,” Sapphira swore as she kissed Duncan with new, unrestrained passion. Duncan was unprepared for her rage, and he nearly came as she unleashed her ferocity.

Kissing and nipping, she took his mouth like a conquering war demon, giving nothing but pure, carnal pleasure as she seemed to relish his easy capitulation. Devil's tongue, but how could he deny an angel in the throes of Descent?

He'd felt it in the Shepherds' condo. Had sensed something off with the beauty from the get-go, but never could he have guessed what passion she held deep within her. Their play in the alley was not even close to a fitting prelude for the desire now swamping him.

He growled as she bit him hard, her teeth impressing upon the thick tendon in his neck. But his growl quickly turned to a groan as her clever hands found his cock and pumped him hard. He needed to feel her slick heat, to touch and taste the honeyed pussy creaming for him as they kissed. But she refused to let him go, and hell take him, but he would give his angel whatever she wanted so long as she didn't stop loving him.

No, no, he panicked. Not love. Not for an angel. Yet Duncan had been telling the truth earlier.
And you'll find you'll do anything to satiate it. You'll forget your duties, your purpose, even let the enemy decide what to do with your sways.
He'd been talking about himself, about his father's description of what life had been like with Bethany Sinclair, his mother. But Duncan wasn't ready for love, for the promise of angelic retribution, for an end to carousing. He didn't want a growing, ever-present need for someone special in his life.

Just because sex with Sapphira was hotter than hell's core, that didn't mean he loved the woman. Though he would never have sought an angel to partner, he had to admit they fit perfectly. So when her spirit beckoned him to take an honest
look
, something he'd been avoiding, hoping to deny their intense connection, he finally relented.
I mean, how much closer can we get?
She squeezed him again and sucked his tongue into her mouth, and he couldn't help looking with that basic part of him, eyeing her very soul.

Oh Lucifer, her colors were beautiful.

Dark blue flickered with a black purity that slowly eased over Sapphira's essence. She could never have been tainted with such a brief demonic influence by Duncan. No, her identity had been imprinted at birth. Imprinted and deliberately suppressed to satisfy some angelic asshole in the upper realm.

He used his anger to fuel their kiss, and his rage made her moan. She reveled in his passion as she spread her thighs wider and took his shaft along her cleft. The witch wouldn't allow him penetration, but rubbed him against her clit, making him crazed with lust.

“You feel so perfect, Duncan.” She looked down at him, and his heart cramped.

Shit
. She was turning his mind to mush. Her flushed skin tantalized. Her amber eyes slanted with desire, her irises dilated and drugged with need. And her pussy creamed, coating him with sex and lust and affection, so hot he could burn and never ask for surcease so long as she kept touching him.

“So do you,” he said hoarsely, and yanked her mouth back down to his. Not wanting to wait anymore, he took charge of the kiss and her hips. Forcing her to sit up, he raised her over him. “Put me inside you.”

She bit her lip.

“Now.”

Moving his cock toward the mouth of her sex, she did as ordered. He noted her breasts swelling, her nipples beading with excitement as she obeyed.

A firm hand
, Duncan recalled saying. “Sit on me, angel.”

She didn't move quickly enough to suit him so he roughly pulled her down, impaling her on him. And the touch, damn her, felt like what he'd imagined the inner sanctum of heaven to be. A painful pleasure that made him want to relive the experience over and over. Her slave, her lover, he'd be whatever she wanted as long as she gave him this.

“Now ride me,” he managed, fondling her breasts as she swayed over him.

She stared down at him, her face intense as she concentrated on him. The knowledge that he was her world right now nearly set him off. His cock drove so deeply into her, he felt as if he touched her womb with each descent of her body. He wanted badly to fill her with seed, felt the need to fuck her until their joining took and she swelled with young.

“
Fuck.
” He didn't like the turn of his thoughts, the care outweighing the lust, and he let go of one of her breasts to push her further. He found her clitoris and played, feeling the taut bud grow even firmer.

She moaned and shook, slamming harder on top of him.

“That's it, sweetheart, ride me. Fuck me until I come inside you. Squeeze my cock hard, right up in that tight, wet pussy.”

“Duncan,” she moaned and ground against him. “I can't—”

“You
can.
” He twisted her nipple. She gasped, and he felt a flood of wetness wash over his sensitive shaft. “You will.” He eased up, then pinched her flesh again, and she came all over him.

Her walls pulsed against him, struggling to pull his cock into overwhelming ecstasy.

She cried out as she arched over him, her tits thrust out, her face looking toward heaven while her spirit pushed her closer to hell. And in their sinful delight, with the sight of Sapphira in thrall to his touch, he climaxed so hard and for so long that he wondered if he'd died and gone to heaven.

When Sapphira caught her breath, it was to see Duncan staring up at her with eyes full of some emotion she didn't want to see. She wondered if she might have uttered what she'd thought out loud.

Did she really? Did she love a demon she'd only just met? One who'd given her that final push off the heavenly cliff toward hell? She wanted to protest. To lie and say she hadn't meant what she'd thought. That it had been her body talking, not her heart. Yet for all the ease she'd had in lying to herself before, she couldn't do it now.

“Come here,” Duncan rasped, shattering her confusion. He pulled her down, still inside her, and kissed her. His tongue took possession of her mouth, and it was several seconds before he ended the kiss. “You taste like brimstone, but lighter.”

She laughed, unable to help it. “Brimstone Light. For those demons on a diet.”

He chuckled and withdrew, and the emptiness inside Sapphira felt more than physical. “We need some sleep.”

“We?” Actually she did. But she didn't want Duncan to think he could make her decisions for her.

“Okay, me. I'm tired.” He yawned. “And you've had a helluva day, literally.” He stared into her eyes and gave her understanding and none of the smugness or male satisfaction she might have expected after surrendering to a demon. “The first time is always the hardest, sweet. Don't worry, Sapphira. It'll get easier the more you do it. I'll help you.”

Then he rolled to his side with her in his arms and fell asleep, his breath hot on her neck.

Sapphira wished she could fall asleep as easily. Like humans, the Ethereal needed rest, some more than others. Demons slept more than angels. She'd always been told that it was because the lower realm reveled in sloth. To them, laziness was a virtue. Yet Duncan hadn't been the least bit sluggish today. He'd helped her sway her first soul, when he could have taken the bastard to hell himself.

She sighed and snuggled next to his muscular forearm, an uncomfortable yet soothing pillow. Sapphira had ultimately made the decision to send Nathan to hell today. And she still didn't feel bad about it. What did that make her? Was Duncan right? Was she an angel on the verge of Descending?

If only she had someone to ask. But she'd never been close to her mother that way. Sure, lessons and etiquette, her schooling, all had been done under her mother's watchful eye. Though Sapphira knew that deep down her mother loved her, there always seemed to be a condition attached. Sapphira had to be the smartest, the strongest, the best. For years she'd struggled to earn Charmeine's attention, as the Virtue was constantly busy keeping the spheres in touch. Yes, her mother could provide harmony to the first sphere whenever they asked, but she couldn't provide the comfort an uneasy, doubting daughter often needed.

For that, Sapphira had the third sphere, her fellow angels. A group who summarily dismissed her as a misfit and troublemaker. Uriel was less than useless, in her opinion. And Sarah a pain in the ass. Sapphira had often wondered why sex with demons and humans was considered so sinful when the angels went at it with each other like bunnies in heat. But heaven forbid Sapphira indulge. The few times she had, she'd been found out by her mother. And wow, Charmeine had thrown a fit of biblical proportions. How much worse would it be if Charmeine knew a demon was involved?

Sapphira sighed. She'd been around angelic love her entire life, but never had she sensed the sheer power of the emotion. Then again, what if she wasn't feeling love for Duncan? Perhaps it was the newness of it all. Being able to be herself was heady indeed. With Duncan she didn't have to pretend. And he despised Uriel as much as she did, heck, even more. Sex with him was perfect. Incredible.

He murmured under his breath and hugged her tighter. A firm ridge prodded her backside, sliding between her cheeks, and she stifled the urge to chuckle. Even in sleep he wanted her—an angel on the verge of turning demon, who'd made her very first sway today.

She should have felt prouder. But sending a soul to hell, no matter how deserving, felt like a betrayal. She'd let one slip to the lower realm. And yet, what should she have done? Interfered in the soul's natural progression, even knowing his end rightfully deserved hell? Why should she send an undeserving soul to heaven? To salve Uriel's pride? To give the angels home-field advantage when the angels and demons next faced off? She couldn't see her mother signing off on that. Sapphira was young, yes, but she had more sense than that.

So the question begged, now what? Did she meekly accept her demise as an angel and succumb to the darkness even now pulling at her spirit? Should she continue to follow her heart and go against Uriel's wishes, despite the torturous result surely awaiting her fate? Sapphira sighed. Did she even want to return to the upper realm and face all those snotty angels looking down on the Ordinary and the lower realm?

But not all of them were snotty, her conscience begged her to remember.
The whole of your life isn't terrible. There's Raphael and Seir.
They cared about the real Sapphira. But they had moved to the first choir, the top of the heap. Now her friends were Principalities channeling positive energy and protecting…human cities. Curious that she hadn't thought to seek them out before. Perhaps a Calling in the morning would tell her where to find her friends. Though she felt embarrassed broaching the subject of Descension, they might at least be able to shed some much-needed light on the topic. If not, at least she'd know she'd tried.

Feeling easier now that she had a rough course of action, Sapphira promised herself to try harder with the next sway. Perhaps by offering the next candidate at least a shot at redemption, she'd enable the indecisive one to seek the path of light.

Duncan pulled her tighter and sighed into her hair, and Sapphira let go of her many worries to snuggle tighter in the arms of her demon.
Her demon.
She groaned, wishing she didn't like the sound of that so much.

Three days later

“We've got problems.”

Asael looked up from his desk and frowned at the higher demon waiting for him. “Zelec? I'm busy.”

“I know, sire. This is important. I wouldn't have disturbed you otherwise.”

Asael sighed and watched as his underling carefully skirted the aura of light clinging tightly to him. It probably said much about Asael's state of being that he liked the fact his demons feared him. The light surrounding him would never fade, a testament to his status as a fallen angel, and one he wore proudly like a badge of honor. Unlike heaven, the Abyss looked favorably upon those who switched sides, and Asael had more clout down here than he'd ever had above.

“Well, Zelec?”

Zelec met Asael's stare, one of the few demons this side of Baphomet Falls who could do so. “I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, Asael. But there have been rumored sightings of Duncan in the presence of an angel.”

“I know. My son is serving out his sentence for the upper realm while gathering information for us.”

Zelec cleared his throat, his red eyes flat, showing not the slightest hint of fear, though he had to be feeling some. “Yes, I'm aware of that. What you don't know is that Uriel is laying claim to Duncan's forthcoming Ascension.”

Silence met Zelec's heresy, and Asael took a moment to compose himself. “You're telling me my son's in danger of joining the upper realm, as in, permanently?”

Zelec had to know he stood on the brink of forever-death, yet he nodded all the same. In Asael's world, “don't kill the messenger” had no meaning. Fury, the likes of which he'd felt only twice before in his lifetime—once when he'd first fallen from grace and the other when he'd lost Bethany—filled him. It was only Zelec's quick reflexes that saved him from utter immolation. Instead, Asael's desk caught unholy flame and continued to burn.

Asael stood and walked through his fire, deep in thought. “Do we know this for a fact?”

“I was getting to that, my lord. No, we do not. We have only our spies in the upper realm reporting what they've heard. In the Ordinary, your progeny continues to collect souls for hell.”

Relief filled Asael. As much as he loathed the upper realm and their cloying sentiments of love, his time spent in the above as well as his tie to a human had dulled his demonic reflexes. As such, he still felt tremendous love for all of his children. And Duncan, capable, strong-willed Duncan, had never failed to make him proud. Even his prank with James, blaming the angels for a dragon theft, had done much to amuse Asael. But to have his son turn… It didn't bear thinking about.