Samael: A Devil and Angel Gay Romance Read online

  Samael

  Kay Ellis

  Copyright © 2020 by Kay Ellis

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover by Rue Volley

  Published by Encompass Ink

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  1

  “Looking good, Athonrack,” I said, breezing into the dark, dank cavern he laughingly called his office and dropping into one of the roughly hewn stone chairs. The things were uncomfortable by design, but then again, this was Hell. Padded cushions were a non-existent luxury in this neck of the woods. Pain and discomfort, however, were kind of our thing. “Have you been polishing your horns again?”

  Athonrack gave me a stern look from the other side of his granite desk. Technically, he was my superior, but what sort of demon would I be if I showed the miserable fucker any respect?

  “Pride is a sin,” Athonrack said sourly. “So, yes, I have.”

  He folded his clawed hands on the desk and leaned forward. Athonrack’s skin was a deep blue, symbolic of his rank in the underworld. The higher a demon became in hell’s pecking order, the wider the choice of skin colour was made available to them. My own hide was currently a sickly shade of mottled green. I liked it. Lower ranking and newly made, those who had yet to prove their worth, were restricted to plain old grey. Of course, only the big man himself was permitted to be red.

  “I have an assignment…” Athonrack began.

  “If it’s topside, I’ll take it.”

  Athonrack raised his craggy brow in annoyance.

  “You don’t even know what it is yet.”

  “Don’t care either. I haven’t been topside in four decades. So long as it’s not babysitting some wannabe Satanist rock-stars again, the job is mine.”

  “Oh, but you did so well the last time,” Athonrack sneered.

  “Those guys were already halfway to Hell,” I pointed out. “Sacrificing goats and deflowering virgins. Or was it the other way round? Anyway, all I did was point them in the right – or make that the wrong – direction.”

  “You’re not funny, you know, Samael.”

  “Never said I was.” I looked at him expectantly. “So, what’s the assignment?”

  Please, let it be a good one. Something an evil entity of my calibre could really sink his claws into. Worryingly though, Athonrack’s lips quirked at the corners of his mishappen mouth, the closest the old git ever got to smiling.

  “The assignment is babysitting a rock-star,” he said, sounding almost cheerful for once in a millennium. He held up a sharpened talon, silencing me before I could utter a single word of objection. “This one is different. He’s young and it turns out his soul is up for grabs. As yet, he has chosen neither good nor evil in his life. Your role is to ensure he ends up on our side and not with the other lot.”

  “The other lot?” I asked casually, acting like I wasn’t bothered in the slightest by the prospect of competing for the soul against a Heaven-sent opponent. It wasn’t even the whole winning-of-the-soul that snagged my interest. It was who the good guys would put up to challenge me. “Do we know who yet?”

  In the name of all that is evil, let it be him.

  “It has not yet been confirmed,” Athonrack said piously. And how the fuck did a demon sound pious for Lucifer’s sake? “Nor is it relevant. The task at hand remains the same, regardless of your angelic rival’s identity.”

  Well, shit. Anyone would think he knew I had a bit of a thing for a certain angel. It was largely unrequited, what with me being a demon and all, but even angels had dirty little secrets hidden beneath their snow-white wings.

  “You will, of course, require a human form.,” Athonrack continued. “I trust you can take care of that yourself. Please bear in mind that you will be acting as a bodyguard to the boy and choose your form accordingly.”

  “No problem.”

  I already knew the form I would take. Six foot four, two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle, skin the colour of chocolate with short hair and brown eyes. Around thirty years in age. It was perfect for the job. I’d used the same body before a number of times over the centuries and for some reason, humans – both male and female – seemed to find it wildly appealing. There had been a time, back in what the human’s called the Dark Ages, when I had to quite literally beat off my admirers with a stick. The fact there was an angel out there who also seemed to find the body attractive had absolutely nothing to do with my choice. For all I knew, he might not even show up this time.

  Athonrack prattled on for a while longer, giving me the details that I would need for my trip. It was mainly boring stuff, like where I would be living, what car I would have, where I was to meet the soul… et cetera, et cetera. Blah blah blah. I would have help, he said, in eradicating the other candidates. All except for the angel, who we were not allowed to interfere with, as dictated in the accord signed by Heaven and Hell hundreds upon hundreds of years ago. Whoever was awarded the job, would be a good indicator of which side would eventually win the soul, Athonrack informed me.

  “Hold on,” I said, getting my feet. My tail swished across the floor like an angry cat’s and I ordered it to be still. “I have to go for a fucking interview?”

  “How else do you propose to get the job?” Athonrack asked dryly.

  “Uh, I don’t know. The old-fashioned way? You know, kill everyone else. Walk in and tell them I’m the new guy like it’s a done deal.”

  “Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that these days. Now, I suggest you go and prepare yourself.” Athonrack waved a hand, effectively dismissing me. “You have a script to learn.”

  I stomped back to my pit in a mood that was foul even for a demon. Interview my arse. And a script? They could kiss my scaly arse. I mean, yeah, I followed orders from the big red guy, but everyone else? Fuck ‘em. Go find a rusty nail and swivel on it. I was my own man. Demon. Whatever.

  Two hours later, I stood in human form in the living room of a modest size apartment. Apparently, I could not be seen to have wealth or the soul would assume I was not in need of the job. In my human shaped hand, which I was still adjusting to using again after so many years, I held a portfolio. It contained a fabrication of a human life. A history I had never experienced, a career path I had not walked and references from people I had never actually worked for. It would stand up to scrutiny though, should anyone elect to question it. Whatever was said about my lot, we were the absolute best at lying. Experts, to put it another way, at making shit up.

  Looking around the room, I sighed. Everything was too clean and fresh, the sofa too comfortable, the cushions too plush. There was a bedroom along the hallway even worse than this with its soft mattress and plush pillows. It was an unfortunate side effect of taking human form. The man in me needed such creature comforts while the demon in me did not.

  Still, I did not have time to stand there and conte
mplate the complexities of human life. The stupid interview was scheduled for that afternoon and I had to make my way there like a normal person. Dematerialization was a strict no-no on this side of the veil. That shit had never gone down well with people, so it was one constant that remained unchanged over the centuries.

  Cars, however, had changed a lot since I had last driven topside. They were bigger, faster, had more technology and there were so many more of them on the roads. I had to applaud the demon who had come up with the idea of lights, jams, congestion charges and all things traffic related. It had to be one of ours. The other side would never dream of inventing anything so wonderfully awful.

  I was proud to say my own driving technique was the cause of numerous incidents of road rage on my journey across town.

  The stupid interview, as I now called it, was to take place in a tall office block, an imposing edifice of steel and blackened glass. Inside, I took the elevator to the fourteenth floor and the offices of the soul’s manager. It was actually the thirteenth floor, but for some reason, humans were irrationally superstitious when it came to the number thirteen and often skipped it even when it made no sense to do so.

  I gave the smiling receptionist my name and turned away from her. There was only one other man in the waiting area. He looked different to before but it was him.

  Ananiel. My angel.

  2

  He recognised me too, of course, but then I had not altered my human appearance in our last four encounters. Why would I when I knew this was the form Ananiel most favoured? His expression was a mask of carefully schooled indifference as I walked over and took the seat next to his.

  “There are other chairs,” he pointed out, lowering his voice so that the receptionist would not hear.

  “Yeah, but none of them are next to you,” I whispered back.

  “Samael, don’t.” He cocked his head to one side, angelic blue eyes regarding me solemnly. “Or should I call you Jack Ripley? Seriously, is that the best you could come up with? I mean, it is a play on Jack the Ripper, right?

  “Hey, don’t knock it. I’ve met Jack and he’s a good guy. Well, not good exactly, but you know what I mean.”

  I gave him a sideways look, taking in the wavy blond hair and slim figure. He hardly looked like he was bodyguard material, but then so what? It more or less guaranteed me the job, plus I had the happy bonus of simply looking at him while I waited. Not that I was supposed to find joy in gazing upon beauty, but that I did was my little secret.

  “What name are you going by anyway?” I asked him. “Mother Theresa?”

  “None of your business,” he snapped, rolling his eyes. And… was that a rosy pink blush I spied spreading across his cheeks?

  “Come on, tell me. I ought to know the name of the man I’m about to beat.” I leaned toward him, smirking when he flinched. “Don’t worry, angel. I mean in the race to the soul, not in the physical sense.”

  “You are impossible,” he hissed through clenched teeth. How great a demon was I that I could get an angel all riled up within the space of two minutes? “Fine, if you must know, it’s Hayden Evans.”

  “Hayden Evans?” I echoed in disbelief. “As in H. Evans? As in Heavens? Wow. And you have the gall to call me out on my name choice.”

  “How about I just call you Demon?” Ananiel rounded on me angrily, his voice raising a notch.

  “Suits me, Angel.”

  “You two know each other?”

  Ananiel and I both jumped at the sudden interruption. A tall, thin man in a pinstripe suit stood in front of us, watery grey eyes flicking between us questioningly. I hadn’t even heard him coming, the sneaky bastard. Then again, I’d been too busy tormenting my sweet angel. Ananiel was playing hard to get now, but it was only a matter of time before he succumbed. He had done so in the past and he would do so again.

  “No, I don’t know him,” Ananiel said, rising from his seat to shake the man’s hand.

  Ouch. And here I was thinking angels couldn’t lie.

  “I’m Jack Ripley.” I stood too, introducing myself which was more than the angel had done. “Truth is, we have met before. I haven’t seen him for fifty years though.”

  “Fifty?” The man’s eyes widened and then he gave a shaky little laugh. “Yes, well… very funny. I’m Conrad Dawes, Tam’s manager. If you’ll just give me one moment, gentlemen.”

  He turned and want over to the receptionist.

  “You’re such a suck-up,” Ananiel muttered.

  “And you’re incredibly bad tempered for an angel.” I smiled at him, knowing it would piss him off more than anything else I did. “Although, talking of sucking…”

  “Shut up!”

  “Rachel, are these the only two?” I heard Dawes say to the receptionist. “I thought we had arranged to see eight candidates.”

  “We did,” pretty little Rachel replied, “but the other six cancelled.”

  “All of them?”

  Ananiel shook his head in disapproval. “That’s your doing, I take it?”

  “Not personally, no.”

  Dawes strode back over to us, not looking best pleased. It wasn’t my problem. All I needed was for him to hand me the damn job and against the skinny-ass angel, I was a shoo-in.

  “You first,” Dawes said, snapping his fingers at me. “Let’s go.”

  “The jobs already mine,” I told Ananiel, quietly enough that only he would hear. “Don’t wait up for me, sweetheart.”

  Sauntering after Dawes, I followed him into a light airy office with panoramic views of the sprawling city. There was a long, polished table, easily large enough to seat twenty people, that occupied pretty much the entire room. At one end of the table, there was a kid, practically swamped by the huge leather chair he sat in. everything about the kid was black. His hair. His clothes. His nail varnish. His aura.

  Without a doubt, this was the soul I had been sent to acquire. From his appearance alone, I would say it was a done deal. Tough shit, Ananiel. Better luck next time.

  Although, there was my problem. As soon as I claimed the soul, I would have to return to Hell. I’d only just arrived topside and I didn’t want to go back so soon. I wanted a chance to spend some time with Ananiel. Not that I relished the idea of being in the path of that particular shitstorm if any of my kind ever figured out the real reason I chose to stay.

  “This is Tam Kestrel,” Dawes said. The kid stared at me through eyes heavy with eyeliner and mascara, but he didn’t speak. “Tam, this is Jack Ripley. Or, Demon, according to his friend out there.”

  “Demon?” Tam raised an eyebrow. “Do you have horns and a tail?”

  “Sometimes,” I answered, taking a seat. “If you ask me nicely, I might show you one day.”

  I winked at him and the kid blushed before quickly ducking his head. And I was supposed to believe this awkward, shy little boy got up on stage and performed in front of thousands of people? Bullshit.

  “Mr. Ripley seems to consider himself a comedian,” Dawes murmured condescendingly.

  “Demon,” Tam said, glancing from me to his manager and back again. “Call him Demon. I like it.”

  “Yeah? Then you’re going to love the next guy. He’s called Angel.”

  “Demon and Angel?” Tam clapped his hands in childish delight. “I’m going to make both of you my personal bodyguards.”

  “Tam, you can’t just do that,” Dawes objected, although there was a tone in his voice that seemed to suggest he was not actually opposed to the idea. Rather that his words were little more than a token protest. It bothered me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on the reason why. Did it really matter so long as I got the job? “We have to conduct the interview first.”

  “Conduct it then,” Tam said sulkily. “But they’re my bodyguards, not yours. I should be able to have who I want and I want Demon and Angel.”

  I got the impression this was a kid who was used to getting his own way. Maybe it was because he’d become famous at such a young age, or
maybe it was because he’d been a spoiled brat his whole life. Either way, it was another tick for the evil column.

  “So, um… Mr. Ripley… I mean… Demon,” Dawes stammered awkwardly. “Tell me about your experiences working in personal security.”

  I leaned back in my chair and smirked. In hindsight, maybe it was a good thing I’d taken the time to read the stupid script for the stupid interview after all.

  “What do you want to know?”

  3

  Afterwards, I could have gone back to that depressingly neat apartment to wait for a definitive answer, but I didn’t. Dawes, the smug prick, was still insisting on doing things properly and refused to give me the job without first interviewing Ananiel… Hayden… Angel… and checking my references. No amount of petulance and pouting from Tam would persuade him otherwise. It was not an answer that kept me hanging around outside the office building though. It was a blond-haired, blue-eyed angel.

  An hour passed before Ananiel appeared. He stopped on the pavement, looking up and down the street. Looking for me, perhaps? I could only hope. In the late afternoon sun. Ananiel seemed to glow with holy light. It amazed me that the pedestrians passing by him didn’t seem to notice. Maybe I was the only one who saw it because of what I was. If he looked across the street, maybe all he would see was a figure shrouded in darkness.

  His gaze fell upon me and he stilled. Then his shoulders slumped and he shook his head. Was this the moment he faced up to the fact that he wanted to see me as much as I did him? Ananiel always started off by trying to resist me. Each time we met his resolve crumbled sooner than the time before. It would explain his shitty attitude in Dawes’ office. He knew he could not hold out against me.