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Chapter 1
Past Life
RAVEN
“GOD, PLEASE FORGIVE me for my sins. I know I deserve the path I walk and the fate of Hell that burns at my back, but please, I’m asking you to show your mercy. I’ve changed.” Elias quietly prays the words on the other side of the closet door, his soft voice sounding like a broken man.
I’ve been listening to him talk to God since the fog from my mind cleared. He’s been going on and on, and the sheer annoyance of having to listen to him sobers me up from the intoxicating effect Dante had on me in our moment of passion. Anger grips my chest just thinking about Elias’s brutal interruption. How could we have been bested by someone like him? I know Dante is freaking the fuck out. Kase might even do something crazy. His wrath might ruin the world for me.
“God, please.” Elias’s desperate pleas get under my skin the longer he rambles, sharing with the universe all the reasons why he should get salvation. How he’s been righting his wrongs and doing the almighty’s work.
But fuck. I want to holler at him. He’s not the good man he claims to be. Good men don’t kidnap people, no matter who the woman is. They don’t hurt them like he hurt me, injuring me with a blessed arrow of some sort to steal me away from Dante. They also don’t slap a measly bandage over the wound nor do they slap the remaining medical tape over people’s mouths to shut them up. At least I managed to lick the adhesive enough to get it off my lips. But I won’t scream. Not yet.
“I don’t know what else to do to prove my loyalty, love, and unwavering faith toward you, your Almighty Grace,” he continues. A haggard cough bellows through the air, and he wheezes, catching his breath. He sounds awful, and it gets worse, but it doesn’t stop him. “I need guidance. Help me see what I need to do. I’ve been fighting the darkness in your name for as long as I remember, and yet, my repentance doesn’t feel like enough. I don’t feel any closer to your forgiveness and light for my recent mistakes. How can my moment of weakness undo a life of hard work? Please. It can’t end like this.”
It takes everything in me not to break it to him that no one is listening. If they were, one of the saviors would’ve revealed themselves already. Maybe. Why would they? I can imagine Cassius would claim this to be a miracle since he never got the chance to smite me. The bastard angel.
Ethereal light hazes the room through the small crack of space between the sliding closet doors, drawing my attention. I twist and rub the ropes together on my wrists, trying to loosen the knots. My assumption about Elias being a devil was completely wrong. No devil would kneel before a religious shrine, light candles, and pray for forgiveness. Nor would a devil have an aura of angelic light surrounding him—light that fades with each passing minute as my head clears. I can almost see him as the man he is.
“Lord, I’m begging you to give me a sign. A chance. Something, anything, that will bring me into your favor. I’m running out of time. I don’t know how much longer I will last. Please, God. Let her be the answer to my prayers to you. Please,” Elias says, clutching his hands together. He’s talking about me as if I will bring him a miracle of some sort, and it confuses the fuck out of me. Why would he think that? I wish I understood what is going on in his head. Maybe if I did, I could reason with him. Or maybe I can offer him a different deal, one on Dante and Kase’s behalf. Because I can’t have a savior answer his prayers. I can’t.
I hope I’m right about them staying away.
Tipping his head toward the ceiling, Elias stares upward like he’ll find the answers to his questions on the water-stained ceiling. The brown ring declares that the roof might not last through another rainstorm in this hellhole worse than where the saviors lived. I wish I knew how this supposed former angel got to this point. What has happened to him since he fell? How is it possible that he’s mortal now? And sick. Not knowing how sick he is leaves me with a dozen more questions. It’s obviously bad enough to act in desperation. The only way I’ll find out the answers to my questions is if I break free and call upon my devils to extract it out of him.
“Damn it! What do I need to do?” Elias shouts. Something crashes. “Do you want me to end her?”
I groan and yank the ropes harder. I really fucking hope he doesn’t start trying everything he can think of to get his heavenly response. It’s one thing holding me hostage and praying. It’s another trying to assume what the Higher Power wants.
Elias falls silent, and I still. The eerie quiet of the room ignites rising panic inside me. I wonder if he can hear things I can’t. Maybe one of the saviors responds to him through a telepathic link like Micah would speak to me.
Micah.
With the thought of his name, I can’t help thinking about him and what he’s doing in Hell. Kase and Dante never told me what claiming a throne in Hell’s Kingdom involved, but I can’t imagine it being anything good. Lucian is a dick. Hell will get to Micah, especially being away from the Mortal Realm. I hate to even think about what kind of torture Micah might inflict on the souls that land in his newly formed level, created from his descent.
I shudder.
Pushing all my thoughts of Micah away, I concentrate on trying to break my hands free from the rope bindings. Unlike when Dante restrained me to his bed, these makeshift restraints feel as if they will loosen if I continue to pull and twist. Elias is clearly not an expert in any sort of bondage—or kidnapping, for that matter—because he did nothing about my legs and when I break free, only he will lie between me and my freedom. And right now, he looks like he’s drunk or something by how much he wobbles.
Sighing, Elias finally stops meditating or whatever he’s doing and pushes to his feet. He turns away from his shrine, ignoring the fact that he’s strung me up in a closet among his smoky clothes, reeking of cigarettes. I think it’s been hours since he’s last checked on me, and I’m lucky I don’t have to go to the bathroom yet. I plan to be out of here before that kind of urge overtakes me. I’d rather dislocate my thumbs than face standing in my own filth.
Elias strolls to a cluttered dresser and swipes a beer bottle from the mess and takes a swig. Coughing, he clutches onto the furniture, sounding like he hacks up a lung. He wheezes and huffs, clearly in pain now that I have a better look at him. His skin lacks any warmth or color, pale like he might have the flu. He’s on the thin side, his muscles sinewy instead of buff. I also catch sight of his hands trembling.
“Fuck,” he grumbles under his breath. “Fuck this bullshit!” Swinging his arm, he clears off the dresser, knocking the trash to the floor.
I grimace, a million questions running through my mind as he swears and trashes the place, knocking over the lamp and throwing shit off the nightstands in heaps of garbage on the carpet. Could it be possible that I was wrong, and this man isn’t the supposed angel who loved me enough that he gave me part of his essence in another life and had fallen? Maybe. But seeing his soul shining brightly, hearing him pray, and now getting a better look at him with a clearer head, I know that this man istheElias—the one Cassius blames me for destroying.
It’s strange. It feels like a part of me recognizes him, but he’s a complete stranger. A man from another life I have no recollection of or even want to know about. If he had loved my soul enough to fall, he obviously didn’t fight for me or whatever. I don’t know. None of that matters anyway. My eternity is sealed and my soul now rests in the hands of the devils. The only important thing now is getting out of here, so Elias doesn’t figure out how to call upon the saviors to send me to Hell before I can complete my end of Lucian’s contract.
Like Elias senses I watch him, he turns his attention toward the closet and eyes me through the crack. I stop struggling against the ropes, afraid he’ll notice I’ve loosened the knot on my left wrist some, and I’m almost free. The last thing I need is for him to re-tie and tighten them even more.
But he doesn’t move from his spot. He continues to stare at me in a silence so heavy that it weighs on my soul, making me uncomfortable. I don’t even feel this exposed and vulnerable under Kase and Dante’s scrutiny. With them, I feel sexy. Desired. Hotter than the levels of Hell they rule. With this guy? Goosebumps crawl across my skin in a bad way. He reminds me of how I felt with Cassius aiming a flaming sword at my heart.
I inhale a few long breaths, calming my racing heartbeats the best I can. Elias’s light gray eyes search over my face until they finally meet mine. The beautiful color reminds me of stormy skies lit by the white glow of lightning bolts. He remains unmoving, just gawking at me like he enjoys making me feel uncomfortable and awkward.
Hanging my head, I break his stare. I consider my options as to what I should do. It might be best to wait things out. Kase and Dante will find me. I know it. I just have to survive whatever Elias has planned until they do. And right now, he’s not doing anything that scares me. If he’s Hell-bound like he thinks he is, then I doubt any savior would arrive at his call.
“You’re a creep,” I finally say, squirming under his attention. It feels better than I imagined it would to speak again. “Whatever you expect to get out of this won’t work.”
