Angel Mine

By Dahlia Rose

Happiness, fear, lust, greed, anger, love... Those emotions surround us every day. Do you think you could handle feeling all those emotions from everyone by just stepping outside? Iris has lived her life in hiding because of this, and being part of the world was more than she could bear. The only person who could ever get close was Adam, and she ran away from him too. She turned her back on the only man who ever loved her, and now she needs his help to save the world. The gift she thought was a curse turned out to be more than she have could possibly imagined. With secrets revealed Iris’s world has become surreal. 

Adam has never stopped loving Iris. Even the time they spent apart never dulled his passion for the woman he rescued long ago. When he saw her standing on his doorstep shaking from pain and cold, it was as if nothing ever changed. She asked him to believe, to understand, and now together they are in a battle for their lives. Will the love that never ceased to simmer carry them through the coming storm, or will it be left to blow away in the dry desert sand?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dahlia Rose Unscripted
• Release date: Feb 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524283179

Dahlia Rose

Dahlia Rose is the best-selling author of contemporary, military and paranormal romance with a hint of Caribbean spice. She was born and raised on a Caribbean island and now currently lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, with her five kids, who she affectionately nicknamed “The Children of the Corn,” and her biggest supporter and longtime love. She has a love of erotica, dark fantasy, sci-fi, and the things that go bump in the night. With over six dozen books published Dahlia has become a reader favorite. Not only because of her writing but her vivacious attitude in talking to her fans online and at various events. Books and writing are her biggest passions, and she hopes to open your imagination to the unknown between the pages of her books. http://hearttoheartwithdahliarose.blogspot.com www.facebook.com/author.dahliarose www.twitter.com/dahliarose1029

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Dedication

This book is dedicated to my soul sister, Janelle. Thanks for getting exactly what I am saying when I say it. We can talk about anything in our own little language, over a glass of wine and reggae beat. Here is to our friendship, one which has lasted for twenty-seven years and will last for years to come.

Chapter One

Thebes, Egypt

She crept up from the bowels of hell. The smell of sulfur and rotted flesh mixed with her bodiless form. Through the cracks of the ancient stone built to praise the pharaohs, she found her escape. She had planned for centuries on how she would make her way into the mortal world. Too long had she been tortured in the pits of damnation for a crime that, even though she committed, was not her fault. She had been coerced by love, and for that she had paid with her eternal suffering. She wanted vengeance. Against a world that, in her mind, had betrayed her. So while her flesh was eaten from her bones by the scarab beetles, while she lay in perpetual agony through the various tortures Lucifer himself had devised just for her, she plotted and waited for the exact moment she could be free.

In the darkness, she formed her body, watched muscles cover bones from her toes to her fingertips and then almost translucent skin finished her body. Her hair, which had once been the color of a raven’s wing, was now completely white. She moved from her dark corner, and a sliver of sunlight through a crack in the stones burned her skin and sent her into the darkness once again. She would have to wait until the sun fell to the other side of the earth before she could leave. She assessed the tourists with amusement while they moved through the stone hallways like herded sheep. She realized her nudity suddenly, which caused a small, cynical smile on her face. She hadn’t even considered it because of all the years she’d spent in hell always naked and exposed.

She decided to copy one young woman as she explored the tombs. With a blink of her eyes she copied the tight leather pants and black ripped T-shirt she wore. She tried in vain as the hours progressed to change the color of her hair back to its dark, exotic color. No matter how much she concentrated, it remained pure white. Another gift from her eternal punishment, she thought. The memories assaulted her once more, and she could feel the sting as her flesh was torn from her back by the cat-o-nine-tails. For years she’d begged God to save her from hell. Her tears had sizzled as they hit the hot rock floor of hell, and her punishment continued year after year until she could not tell how much time had passed.

When one of the demons had actually shown an ounce of pity for her and told her how long she had been there, she discovered that five hundred seventy years of pain had gone by. The prayers to heaven in the midst of hell had made her tormentors angrier as she called out to God for mercy. Even as she screamed his name, the Devil had laughed merrily, and his words echoed around her.

You stupid bitch, he can’t hear you down here.

He was right. God never heard her pleas, and she became a servant of the most unholy of fallen angels. Even so, her punishment continued. It was the price to pay for her transgressions when she had been human. Even the Devil could not save her from that.

She pulled herself from her dismal thoughts and noticed that the sun had fallen behind the desert while stars began to decorate the night sky. When she had been mortal, she’d loved to gaze at them as she lay on the banks of the Nile. Now she wished she could pull them from the sky and crush them between her fingertips.

I know you hear me! she cried up to the night. But now, I do not want your salvation! I will make your beloved world burn and the blood of your children run at me feet! Not from my hand, but from their own!

She smiled in smug satisfaction. She looked around the deserts of Egypt. Only the scorpions crawled across the still sand dunes. It was almost peaceful for her churning mind, but for her plan to take shape, she needed people—a population filled with lost souls. With only a thought, she left the place that had given her escape from hell to where she needed to be.

She looked around at the lights and the sounds of this new city from a distance. Being in hell had its advantages. One could find out exactly where one should go for the easily corruptible. She would start here and spread her chaos throughout the world. The sign beckoned her as she walked slowly, savoring the feeling of freedom. Welcome to Las Vegas.

Thank you. She bowed her head in acknowledgement and laughed at her own playfulness.

The lights of a car illuminated her and made her stop as it pulled up beside her. She noted the sleek black color and made a mental note to get one of these new forms of transportation to play with as soon as she could.

The man behind the wheel leaned over and opened the door. Hey, pretty lady, do you need a ride somewhere?

She stood, contemplating for a moment. Why not? She slid into the seat of the car. The leather felt cool against her skin, and the air blowing inside the car was cold. It made her uncomfortable. She liked the dry heat of the desert, and it reminded her of hell.

Could you stop the air? I do not like it. Her accent was thick, and she felt his gaze wash over her with open desire. He lusted after her exotic beauty that had been the beginning of her problems, what had led to her sin centuries ago. She smiled, knowing exactly what he was thinking. It was typical of human men.

The man reached over, and with a small flick of a button, the cold air stopped. Sure thing, honey. You’re not from around here, are ya?

No, I am not. Is that a problem? She ran her hand along his arm, and she watched his eyes close as a shudder ran through him. A moan escaped his lips, and she saw his cock jump in his pants. A smile crossed her lips when a small wet spot formed on the front of his pants when he came.

Fuck! he said and looked at her embarrassed. That’s never happened before. I am sorry, so sorry. I-I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of perv or something.

Do not concern yourself. Maybe you can show me your . . . control later.

He nodded eagerly. Acenath knew full well that she had no intention of sampling what he was offering. With one touch, she had begun her infection of mankind. As the car pulled off, she let her gaze travel to the night sky, and her lips curled in an evil sneer.

So what’s your name, baby? the man asked. His eyes flicked over to her face before looking back at the road.

My name is Acenath, she replied as the car sped toward the City of Sin.

* * * *

A few hours later, he stared into the eyes of his terrified wife. They had only been married for a little over six months, and now, with the sweat rolling down his face and back, he felt urges surface into his consciousness that he thought he had put behind him. He saw her bruised lip and the marks the belt had left on her skin. Instead of feeling remorse, he felt a shudder of pleasure roll through him. This was what she deserved. The thoughts had come unexpectedly after he had given the exotic beauty a ride from the desert. What was her name again? Where did I drop her off? What happened after that? He furrowed his brows, trying to find the lost memories, but they were not there. Only a foggy picture of her face and eyes black as coal. He only knew that he had to come home and punished his wife, the way all women should be put in their place. He had taken her savagely and felt only anger as she moaned and begged him to stop.

Why are you doing this to me? Alan, why are you treating me like this? she screamed.

In response, he slapped her hard, and her cry of pain made him smile. You are a woman, and that is enough. It is because of you we were damned from the Garden of Eden, because of you and what’s between your fucking legs.

You didn’t think that when you were inside me a few minutes ago! She sneered.

Her insolence drove him to the edge, and he wrapped his fingers around her neck and began to squeeze as she struggled and kicked under him. He locked his fingers tight and kept on squeezing until her movements ceased and she stared lifelessly at the wall.

He stepped back from her, bile rising into his throat, and he sent a foul-smelling stream of rum, coke, and stomach acid onto the carpet. What have I done? The thought echoed through his head, and he wiped his hand across his mouth. He went back to his wife and touched her skin. It was still warm, but he saw through clear eyes for the first time all the damage he had done to the woman he loved. Her fragile, beautiful neck where he had lain on many a night . . . it was now marked, angry, red marks where his fingers had been, and it was set at an unnatural angle. Somewhere in the process, he had snapped her neck. His cries of pain and agony filled the quiet room, and he could not stand the sound even though it came from him.

Sarah, Sarah. He sobbed her name as he walked into his office and sat behind his desk. He pulled out the drawer that held his revolver. It was already loaded.

Without hesitation, he put the barrel under his chin. God, forgive me for what I did to her, and take her soul to heaven.

The last words he uttered were not for his own salvation, but for hers, before he pulled the trigger. Instant blackness . . . .before he felt himself being pulled into the heat and screaming depths of hell.

* * * *

Acenath felt his death. The sound of his agony and the gunshot was like music to her ears. She giggled as she lay in the big tub in the hotel suite. The water was so hot that it would burn the skin of any human. To her, it was the perfect temperature. The Luxor casino and hotel reminded her of the beauty of the pyramids she’d known before her death and punishment, so that was where she’d decided to stay. How easy it was to take from mortals, she mused. Their minds were like small children compared to the power she had. They had given her everything she needed, had moved quickly without her even saying a word. Now, instead of the smell from the dark pits where her torture had been dispensed with glee by the seconds and thirds in charge, she smelled the jasmine and lavender that rose from the scented water in her bath. The Alan mortal had touched many after she had left his car, and the people he had touched passed it on, so her infection would grow. The chaos would spread, and she would bring the world to its knees, and he would pay for leaving her cries unheard. Acenath could sense the presence as soon as it entered her suite, and she did not even open her eyes.

Someone upstairs must be scared if they sent you to me, she murmured. Show yourself.

I despise being in the presence of pestilence, foul wretch from hell that you are.

The voice held no hate or love. It was just as bland as could be, but the words cut her like a knife and made her angry.

I am what your father made me, Acenath replied and took a sip from her glass. So, have you come to dispatch me back to hell with your fiery sword, Uriel? I must warn you that it won’t be that easy, Archangel.

We can see that you have made that quite hard to do, Acenath, but not impossible, Uriel replied. I have come with a message to ask you to go back from whence you came. Give up this act of treachery before it is too late.

She watched him through wary eyes as he pulled his wings around him as if to ward off anything in the air that came from her. Is this message from your father? The one who heard my cries for centuries and did nothing?

Uriel looked at her, and she could see the pity in his eyes. You are still as you were when you were mortal, Acenath. A silly child. You still do not understand that because of what you did, he could give you no redemption. Your cries were not unheard even from hell, but there was nothing to be done.

Do not pity me, angel! He could have come and saved me! I was tricked! she spat out. I deserved a second chance!

So, you wanted the most holy to start a war and come down to hell for you? You made your choices, right or wrong, good or evil. It is not his fault that you chose the wrong path. Uriel was amused, and Acenath could feel her rage boil as he spoke. The fallen one knows you are gone, Acenath. What do you think your punishment will be when you go back?

You still can’t say his name, can you, Uriel? Do you think I don’t know he knows I am gone? But yet, he has not sent the gatherers to retrieve me. He wants to see if I will succeed where others have failed. When I do, he will raise me beyond my punishment to a throne next to his.

Your plans of malevolence will not come to bear fruit, she-demon. I can assure you of that, Uriel said quietly.

You cannot intercede, Uriel. None of you can, Acenath gloated. This is on mortal existence now. It is only they who can fight. Free will, remember? Choices between good and evil. No one here is strong enough to resist me.

We shall see, wretch. Your damnation will be increased by twenty-fold when you fail and are thrown back to the pits. Uriel disappeared quickly, and she stared at the spot where he’d stood.

Acenath threw a ball of dark energy at the empty space, and even though he was gone, the remnants of his light caused her ball to explode into dark crystals.

It’s worth it! Do you hear me, Uriel? Tell your father it’s worth it! she screamed. She took a sip from her glass flute and threw that against the wall as well, watching it shatter and the bubbly drink they called champagne dribble down the wall. She got out of the tub and, with a blink, was dressed again. It’s time to step up my plans, she thought unrepentantly as she left the suite. If Uriel showed up, someone or something is coming, and I must be prepared. Time for me to get some followers to my cause.

* * * *

The breeze off the water touched her face, and Iris closed her eyes in pleasure. It was like the cares of a lover’s hand, except she could actually bear to feel the caress of the wind on her skin. She could hear the thoughts of men who passed by on rare occasions. They thought about her dark hair in thousands of tiny braids down her back. Her dark brown eyes were soft and serene like a doe, and her skin like dark, bronze copper. Her lips were full and soft with a soft coral color that drew a man’s eyes to her mouth. No one could deny that Iris Paige was exotic and beautiful. But she lived her life in solitude by circumstances, and by her choice. Both were one and the same. She let her fingers sift through the sand as she sat on the tiny crystals warmed by the sun.

Barbados. The island had called to her for some reason, and her instincts had been dead-on to come here. She thought back to all the turmoil her life had been in before she’d come to this paradise. Just before she’d left, she’d been a shut-in, refusing to come out of her apartment or even open the blinds. But something had kept telling her to go to this small island in the middle of the Caribbean Sea, and day by day, she’d known it was the right thing to do.

One night, she had packed a suitcase and braved the airport to get there. Surprisingly, the airport had been almost empty, and the flight to Barbados only held a few passengers. They had bumped her up to first class where she’d been completely alone. It was the most peace she had had in months. It had only continued when she’d gotten to the little gem of paradise. The feelings, the emotions, everything that had bombarded her in the city of New York seemed to dull to background noise in her mind, and from there, it had only gotten better until it was as if they were not in her mind at all. She smiled widely as joy filled her. It was the best decision she’d ever made. This place had been her salvation.

On the private beach, she heard the calls of the tropical birds and could smell ripening fruit amid the scent of one of the local women making coconut oils.