Duncan's Descent (7 page)

“Sir?” Seir held up his hands, not wanting the money. “The gift was freely given.”

“Sure.” The guy coughed and glanced away from Seir, only to stare wide-eyed at Rafe as well. “But since you're giving gifts, thought I'd do the same. You two better cover up those bare asses before the cops find you. They don't take much to nudity around here.”

Seir and Rafe glanced at each other.

“Oh, right.” Seir snapped his fingers, wishing it was as easy to fix humanity's difficulties. Clad now in the common clothing worn by many in the city, he and Rafe flashed the man smiles of gratitude and began walking down the alley out into the bright sunshine downtown.

“You have to admit,” Rafe said, ignoring passersby craning their necks for a better look at Ethereals in jeans. “Asael has a gift for storytelling.”

Seir chuckled. “He does at that. Sometimes I really miss him.”

“Me, too,” Rafe agreed. “But we knew his place was not in the upper realm.”

Seir wished it had been otherwise. “I know. Still, being gifted with children had to help soothe the sting of banishment to the lower realm. Asael knew his course, and he took it without a word of protest. A better angel I've never known.” He grinned at his best friend and fellow keeper of balance. “Well, except for you, of course.”

“Right.” Rafe sighed. “So instead of grabbing a cheese steak,” he paused as they stared at a hole-in-the-wall diner with an available booth visible through the window. “I suppose we need to find Sapphira and explain a few things.”

Seir nodded. “But, you know, it wouldn't hurt to give Sapphira more experience in the Ordinary. That poor girl has been chomping at the bit for some fun.”

“You know it's only a matter of time, Seir.”

Like Asael, Sapphira had never been meant for the upper realm. But her time there had given her a perspective many in the lower realm sorely lacked. “I know. But Sapphira needs to assimilate. And if I know Duncan at all, he's the one to help her.”

Rafe's eyes twinkled as they changed their course toward the diner. “You mean the one to spread those luscious thighs and
commune
with her.”

“Exactly.” They entered, sat, and quickly ordered two mouthwatering plates of greasy food. “So let's give him a few more days to commune the
hell
out of Sapphira. I figure it'll take him that long to realize how much he truly loves her.”

“Once he catches his breath. I wonder if the nephilim were originally intended to replace the succubae? Because I've yet to meet one who wasn't both incredibly beautiful
and
sexual.”

Seir nodded his agreement. Trust Duncan, a demon with his own bevy of admirers, to land a gorgeous nephilim—the progeny of an angel and a human. Though Seir had wished it so, he knew Sapphira wasn't meant for the upper realm. The nephilim never were. They thrived in the Ordinary and in the Abyss.

“Let's enjoy our meal. Then I'll contact Zelec while you try to delay Uriel from interfering more than he already has.”

Rafe sighed. “I know he means well, but he's got a stick up his ass the size of Mount Rushmore.”

“I don't think it's the size of the stick
up his ass
that has him so popular with the ladies, though, do you?”

The pair laughed and ate, and Seir realized he was already missing Sapphira. “Some might say it was cruel the way Charmeine tried to keep the girl from her path.”

“Some might. But you and I know Charmeine did it out of love,” Rafe said around a mouthful of fries. “Now this, my friend, is the definition of balance. The heavenly taste, the nutritional hell.”

Seir ate his lunch, thinking of Sapphira and her fight for balance. He could only hope her struggle went down as smoothly as his black and white shake. And with an appreciative groan, he surrendered to his stomach, again ignoring the Call from his favorite nephilim.
All in good time, Sapphira. All in good time.

Duncan stared at Sapphira, concerned at her half-hearted attempts to sway those on the brink. And he wanted to know why she kept putting out the Call to his friends Rafe and Seir. Something was definitely wrong with his angel.

His angel.

For days he'd been thinking of her as such, and to his consternation, it no longer bothered him. She was his, damn it. He'd taken her in most every way possible to take a woman, bringing her untold pleasures until she begged him to finish her. And he knew she was happy with him. Until she'd get that look in her eye, the one that told him she was thinking about the upper realm.

Damn those idiots for maligning her spirit, for taking a soul as full of shadows as Sapphira's and trying to mold it into the perfect angel's.

“All right, that's it.” Duncan grabbed her by the arm and swung her away from their current sway.

“Hey, I was talking to her,” the young man said, holding onto his enlightening pamphlets with the zeal of an alcoholic clutching his last bottle of vodka. “We're finding common ground, here, brother.”

Duncan rolled his eyes and stopped the younger man from talking with a softly uttered command.

“Duncan, I'm trying to
see
this one. I almost had him.”

“No, what you almost had is contact with the Principalities you've been reaching out to for days.” He smiled grimly at her shock. “Yes, I know all about Rafe and Seir. They're good friends of mine.”

“
What?
” She stared at him as if he had three heads. “You're friends with angels?”

“With Principalities.” At her blank look, he sighed and waved at their sway.

The young man woke and scowled. “Hey, what are you—”

Duncan socked him hard in the gut, and the young man went down. “Shut up and search your own soul, asshole. Heaven or hell, it's your pick. We'll be back tomorrow to hear your decision.”

The guy coughed and tried to yell for help while Duncan shook his head in disgust and waited for Sapphira to join him.

“Really, Duncan.” She stepped over their sway with laughter in her voice, surprising him that she could find humor in the situation when she worried constantly. Just one more reason he loved her.

Oh shit.
He'd finally admitted it. Not good. Not good at all. His sister's love with a dragon was bad enough. But at least dragons lived in the lower realm and coexisted with demons. Affection for an angel went beyond stupid. Complete and utter opposite ends of the spectrum.

“Come on.” Duncan flashed them back to his penthouse, and sat Sapphira next to him on the couch. Avoiding his feelings, he focused on her issues. “Now let's talk about the Principalities. Tell me what you know about them.” Around Sapphira, he kept forgetting how new she was to all this. She caught on so quickly, and her intelligence often convinced him that she'd had centuries of experience with the Ethereal instead of years.

She twisted her hands and shot him a dark look. Damn, but the way she stoked his libido should have been against the rules. “The Principalities are part of the third sphere, my sphere. Except they're two choirs above mine. I'm an angel, bottom of the ladder. Then there are the archangels, then the Principalities. They channel positive energy and guide leaders, city leaders and politicians, mostly. They normally deal with larger groups, whereas we angels work more one on one.”

“Right. You did pay attention in school, didn't you?” Pleased when she flipped him off, he continued with a grin. “Well, Rafe and Seir are definitely Principalities. But they specialize in balance, in protecting humanity as a whole against itself and the current idiots in heaven and hell. I call them the balance brothers. It pisses them off.”

Sapphira frowned. “But they're angels.”

He shrugged, settling his arm behind her on the couch. “Technically, I suppose they are. But their goal is to keep peace throughout our existence. So, in reality, they're referees in black and white shirts, keeping us, the black, and you, the white, in line.”

“You talk about black and white, but a lot of what you do is really in the gray.”

He nodded, delighted that she seemed to truly understand him. “As is what you do. For the past few days, you've put souls in my hands, effectively giving them to hell. Doesn't it strike you as odd that Uriel gave you a list of sways who definitely belong to the lower realm?”

She pulled out the crumpled list from her back pocket and stared at it. “I did think it a little weird. That or I'm the suckiest Decision maker this side of heaven.”

“We've yet to determine your ‘suckiness',” he teased, suddenly intent on her mouth. “But I've no problem getting to that.”

“Duncan.”

“My point is that you're being tested. I'm almost certain.”

“Tested?” She looked puzzled, and then as if a light had turned on inside her head, she blanched. “Ah, no. Not tested. Uriel knows I'll do what I've set out to do.” Nerves rang in her voice, and he wondered what she was keeping from him. Guilt seemed to work better on her than anything, so he applied some of his finest acting.

“Sapphira?” He frowned. “Is there something you aren't telling me?”

“Not a thing.” Yet she wouldn't meet his eyes, and he knew. His angel had been lying again. He couldn't have been more pleased.

“I thought we were friends. Friend and lovers, and something more,” he said quietly, willing her to trust him.

Her head shot up, and she stared at him, tears making her eyes look like pools of amber. “I meant to tell you before. That I wasn't going to go through with it.”

“With what?”

“Uriel sent me with you to…”

“To what, Sapphira?” he encouraged in a soft, hurt-sounding voice.

She sniffed, and he wanted to grin his triumph. For all that his angel could lie, cheat and yes, steal, she was still a softie at heart. “He wanted me to push you to Ascend.”

Of all the things he'd expected to hear, that hadn't been one of them. “
What?
”

“To Ascend,” she repeated, a fat tear running down her cheek.

Duncan couldn't help it. He broke out into laughter and leaned back on the couch.

“Duncan? You're not mad?”

When he could contain his mirth, he sat up and wiped his eyes. “Hell no, I'm not mad. Come on, Sapphira. You didn't honestly think you could sway
me
.”

She flushed, but the guilty look in her eyes faded under a sweep of anger. “Yes, I honestly did think I could sway you. That is, until I realized how incredibly large your ego is, almost as big as your fat head.”

He chuckled again and sought her hand, only to have her bat him away. “Don't be mad, honey. It's just that Uriel's been trying to turn me since I hit my sixteenth birthday. And I'm sorry, but just because my mother's human and my father's fallen
doesn't mean squat. I'm a demon. Pure and simple. And I like being a demon.”

“You do?”

“Hell, yeah. It's my job to hang out in the Ordinary. To eat, drink and be merry.” He eyed her breasts and mouth, and his grin widened. “Honey, I do damned good work for the good of Creation, and I'm rewarded for it on a daily basis. What
isn't
there to like?”

She gnawed on her lip, and he had a moment of empathy, realizing she couldn't possibly understand him. Not with the life she'd lead.

“Sapphira, can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Are you happy up there?” He pointed above him. “Honestly?”

She stared at him, her gaze measuring. And, with a huff of sweet breath, answered with a succinct, “No.”

“Then what are you going to do about it?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, when my time with you is over, what are you going to do?” Surely she wasn't going to try to fit back in with the assholes above?

“I'm going to go back to Uriel, take my punishment, and carry on. Do my duty.”

“And what duty is that?” Anger simmered. What the hell was she playing at? Did she really think she could walk away from him and not feel anything?

“To sway souls for…heaven,” she said in a low voice.

“Oh? Like you've been doing this past week?” he scoffed.

“But like you said, Uriel's testing me. He probably wants to see if I'll do the right thing, not what's best for heaven.” She nodded, as if trying to convince herself, and Duncan wanted to shake her to make her see reason.

“Sapphira,” he ground out. “Open your fucking eyes. Uriel is using you to get to me. He wants you to sway me, but more, he wants you to fail. He gets off on showing up lesser angels. Trust me. I've been around enough of you to know when you're being played.”

Perhaps that hadn't come out right, because her temper flared in a heartbeat. “Lesser angels? As in, not on par with you mighty demons? The great big, bad Decision makers?”

“Honey, that's not what I—”

“You know, Duncan, you weren't complaining about my ineptitude a few hours ago when you were deep inside me.”

He felt a rush of heat, wanting to be there again. And Sapphira in a mad, well, there was only so much a demon could take.

“Baby, I—”

She turned and closed the space between them as she poked him hard in the chest. “Don't ‘baby' me. I may be younger than you, less experienced and physically weaker, but I'm as capable as any demon.” She sneered, and Duncan's heart faltered on the verge of everlasting love. “So you can go fuck yourself if you think I'll stand for being treated as some inferior—”

“I love you.”

“—Decision making….
what
?”

He sighed, long and loud. “You're too opinionated. You've got the potential to be a terrific liar if you'd apply yourself. And you need work on toughening up that image.”