The Courtship of Nora Fagan: A Marriage Made in Hell

By Michelle Renee Lane

The year is 1946, and Eleanora Fagan is celebrating her seventeenth birthday. Like most girls her age, she's started thinking about boys, dating, and even who she might marry someday. But she was promised to someone long before she was born.

The day Lucifer fell from Heaven, Nora's father, the Archangel Samael arranged the marriage with a secret Covenant formed to maintain the balance between Good and Evil. On Nora's one-hundredth birthday she will marry Azazel the Fallen and their union will prevent the Apocalypse. Azazel meets Nora at her birthday party, and they quickly become friends.

Over the next year, they battle against foes who wish to bring about the end of the world, and the lines between friendship and love blur. The contract that binds them has only one rule they seem destined to break: No sex before marriage. When Nora turns eighteen, she will become a fully mature succubus, and must feed on sexual energy to survive. She has her pick of partners, except Azazel. Can they maintain a platonic relationship for eighty-two years, or will they let the world end in flames?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stardust Romance
• Release date: Nov 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201628789

Book preview

Chapter One

Egypt, February 13, 1929

The overnight train from Luxor to Cairo was supposed to be a relaxing interlude between jobs. Azazel looked forward to a hot shower, a glass of bourbon, and a solid night’s sleep after reading a chapter or two of Nella Larsen’s novel, Passing. While the fallen angel could never hope to fully understand the protagonist’s struggles around race and class, he was wearing the skin suit of a ginger-haired Irishman and passing for human while on Earth. Azazel enjoyed the art, music and literature of the Harlem Renaissance and tried to read as many novels by Negro writers as he could. Reading helped to center him between assignments and learn more about different cultures around the world. His work took him to every corner of the globe as well as between dimensions, but soul collecting usually meant killing people before you had a chance to get to know them. Learning about other cultures through their art and literature helped to remind him that not all people were evil.

As Lucifer’s Chief Soul Collector, Azazel had a long-standing record of being employee of the month when it came to his ability to track down and collect the souls of what he liked to call evil enthusiasts. Sometimes he had to come top side, like now, to track down a particularly dark soul, either one that had escaped Hell, or one that was still attached to its person. Azazel was on his way to Cairo to execute a warrant with an unusual set of circumstances. He reread the piece of papyrus slowly turning to ash in his fingers just to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood the assignment. Despite his reputation, Lucifer could be quite the practical joker, and Azazel often found himself at the mercy of his brother’s dark sense of humor. Apparently, while on a dig in the desert, an Englishman had unearthed something he shouldn’t have and now he was possessed by a demon-like entity that fit somewhere into the mythology of ancient Egypt. While the job was a bit outside his wheelhouse, he was certain he could improvise and exorcize the entity from its human host.

The overnight train ride would provide some much-needed downtime, or at least, that’s what he hoped. Fresh from his shower, he put on a silk smoking jacket, and poured three fingers of bourbon into a crystal highball glass. Just as he was settling in for the evening, a woman’s scream pierced the near silence that moments ago had only been interrupted by the hypnotic clacking of the train wheels on the tracks. Rarely one to panic, Azazel became very still and listened, waiting for another scream. A single scream was sometimes difficult to interpret. A single scream could be an overreaction to seeing something mildly frightening, like a rat or large spider where you least expected to see one. A single scream could be an overly exuberant display of excitement. A single scream could also mean the abrupt end to someone’s life. If someone’s life had just ended, there was little he could do about it. So, he waited and listened. Seconds ticked by and then his patience was rewarded; a cluster of screams filled the carriage outside his sleeping compartment.

Azazel downed the bourbon in one swallow, pulled on the pants he’d discarded before his shower, and draped the smoking jacket over a chair before exiting his compartment to follow the sounds of chaos. Men were shouting in Egyptian Arabic, English, and then finally French so they could understand each other. Azazel caught snippets of the words being exchanged and pieced together that a woman’s body had been discovered on the floor of her compartment. A porter investigating the scream found her door open. Other travelers came to see what was happening and then chaos spread among them. Azazel approached the crowd cautiously. When he could only go as far as the circle of people surrounding the dead woman’s door, he produced a scrap of parchment with an Enochian sigil written on it and told the porter he was a government official. To the porter the sigil looked like the official passport of a diplomat, and he cleared a path for the Fallen Angel to enter the woman’s compartment.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he would find inside, but what he didn’t expect was the mummified corpse of a woman that he was certain he’d seen on the platform when he boarded the train.

Strange, he said to no one in particular.

Sir? the porter said.

Did anyone see what happened? Azazel addressed all the passengers outside the compartment in Irish-accented French.

An Englishman wearing pince-nez and a tweed jacket spoke up. We all heard the scream but didn’t see what happened. Good lord!

The woman’s appearance was shocking, and extremely confusing. Azazel had never seen a body in that condition unless it had been recently unearthed in the Valley of the Kings.

There’s nothing we can do for her now, Azazel said to the crowd in a commanding tone. You should all go back to your compartments and lock your doors. I don’t know what happened to this unfortunate woman, but while I investigate, I think it’s best that everyone take precautions.

Uncertain about what he should do next, the porter lingered outside the door. Is there anything I can do to help?

Yes, actually. Can you get me the passenger manifest and any documentation for unusual cargo?

Right away, sir, the porter said, and scurried off down the corridor.

Damn, Azazel said, reluctantly accepting the fact his plans had been canceled by the woman’s death. Well, more precisely, the mystery of her death. Part of him hoped that this was related to the case waiting for him in Cairo. It wasn’t unheard of for a dark spirit, once summoned, to unleash plagues or other unfortunate side effects of being possessed. While he waited for the porter to return with the manifest list, he fished a packet of cigarettes from his pants pocket. Happy to find there were ten cigarettes left, he slipped one into his mouth and lit it after striking a red-tipped match along the metal frame of the overhead bunk. Taking a slow breath, he inhaled the smoke deeply into his lungs, held it there for a few heart beats, and then exhaled through his nose.

Pity, he said, gazing down at the corpse. She was pretty.

A portal opened behind him. The frigid blackness of the Abyss made Azazel shiver and wish he’d brought his robe with him.

Now completely resigned to the idea that his evening of rest would be cut short, Azazel greeted Lucifer as he stepped out of the darkness onto the train. I’d offer you a bourbon, but this isn’t my compartment.

No worries, I won’t be staying long. There’s been a change of plan. The warrant you were assigned to execute in Cairo has been handed off to someone else.

Why exactly? Azazel let his tone indicate his irritation at having his evening interrupted. He was also a bit of a control freak and didn’t like having his jobs handed off to the demons beneath him.

You have a new assignment and timing is critical, Lucifer said.

So, that’s why you’re hand-delivering it?

It’s an unusual set of circumstances, and you’re my best Soul Collector. There’s a mummy on this train and unless you kill the necromancer who’s transporting it, he’s going to perform some ancient Egyptian spell to summon the Ka of the deceased back into his body and thereby enact a curse that will raise an army of evil spirits.

Azazel laughed. I’m sorry, did you say there’s a necromancer planning to raise a mummy in order to enact an ancient curse?

Lucifer sighed. I know it sounds like the plot of a penny dreadful, but it’s legitimately going to happen if you don’t kill the necromancer.

Is the necromancer on the train with the mummy?

Yes.

Azazel pointed at the desiccated corpse on the floor. I don’t suppose a mummy could do that, could it?

Lucifer squatted, resting his hands on his thighs and examined the body. Although she looks like the withered mummy of a thousand-year-old Egyptian queen, it appears her essence has been drained to provide sustenance for the mummy the necromancer plans to resurrect.

Azazel strode back to his own compartment with Lucifer at his heels and put on the rest of his suit. Right. I guess I’d better get on with it then.

There’s something else I didn’t mention, Lucifer said.

Azazel looked up from tying his shoes. Well, what is it?

Lucifer hesitated before answering.

Quit stalling, I thought this was time-sensitive, Azazel said.

You’ll have a partner on this assignment.

No.

This isn’t negotiable, I’m afraid.

I always work alone. You know that. What aren’t you telling me?

This assignment didn’t come from Hell. It’s being outsourced from Duat.

Excuse me? Who in Duat would have contacted you about a job?

Before Lucifer could answer, another portal opened, and Anubis stepped through. Few things frightened Azazel, but the Egyptian god was scary even by Fallen Angel standards. Azazel gaped at the muscular jackal-headed deity towering over him. At 6’4", Azazel rarely had to look up to meet someone’s gaze.

A deep, gravelly voice greeted them from the canine mouth of the god. My father, Osiris, wishes you well and hopes that with your assistance, we can stop the curse and return the mummy’s Ka to Duat.

Wait, I thought the necromancer had to summon the Ka first, Azazel said.

It seems the necromancer has already been successful in doing so. The Ka is hanging between worlds as the mummy returns to its original form.

Azazel’s experience with collecting souls was never quite so straightforward. Souls didn’t just hangout between worlds. There was usually quite a bit of coaxing, coercing, ripping, tearing, and occasionally bludgeoning in order to extricate a soul that had attached itself to a body – living or dead. If capturing souls was as simple as summoning them out of the ether, he’d be taking a lot more vacation days. His daydream about uninterrupted vacation days was cut short when he wondered how one would put multiple souls into one container, like a mummy for instance.

Please tell me mummies don’t come back from the afterlife the way they do in penny dreadfuls, Azazel said.

I have never read one of these penny dreadfuls, Anubis said.

Lucifer cleared his throat. Well, in most cases, the mummy returns to its original form by ingesting the souls of the living.

Yes, Anubis confirmed, that is how it works in real life, too.

Lucifer glanced at Azazel. Well, that explains the corpse.

What corpse? Anubis said.

A scream and the sound of people scrambling up and down the narrow train corridor interrupted their conversation. Azazel rushed out into the corridor with Anubis shadowing him.

Good luck, Lucifer said, before returning to Hell.

Azazel cursed and pushed his way through the crowd toward where the scream had come from, which was further down the corridor this time.

You seem upset that I am here, Anubis said.

The corridor was packed with terrified travelers running in their direction. Not just toward them, but away from something.

Azazel glanced over his shoulder at the god, unable to disguise his irritation. I always work alone, and I wasn’t expecting this job tonight.

I apologize for inconveniencing you, but it is important that the mummy not leave the train or be able to replenish the life force that will make it whole again. You came highly recommended and had the unfortunate luck to be in the right place at the right time.

Azazel almost laughed but was still uneasy about teaming up with Anubis. I mean no disrespect. I’m actually honored to be working with you.

Anubis patted Azazel on the shoulder. There will be time for ego-stroking after we kill the necromancer and return the mummy to its resting place.

Fair enough, Azazel said.

Their moment of levity ended when another scream grabbed their attention. They took off running in that direction, pushing passengers out of their way. Azazel wondered if the people were too scared to notice the hulking onyx-skinned jackal-headed god, or if his appearance was somehow altered for them by magic.

Humans see what they wish to see, Anubis explained without being asked the question.

Slightly distracted, Azazel turned to the god. Are you able to read my mind?

Not exactly. It just seemed like the obvious question you’d have at the moment.

Really? I thought the obvious question would be ‘where is the screaming coming from’?

Anubis looked up at the vaulted ceiling of the train car at the same time Azazel did. The screams were coming from outside the train.

Can you teleport, demon?

Azazel’s shoulders stiffened. No. I can climb up the side of the train, though.

Azazel didn’t like being called a demon. Demons were lower beings. He was one of the Fallen and had once called Heaven home. Like Lucifer, he was fed up with his father’s bullshit and followed Lucifer into Hell. However, Azazel maintained contact with several of his brethren who remained in Heaven, including the Archangel Samael. Just because he had to do terrible things to maintain balance in the Universe, didn’t make him Evil. At least, not capital E Evil. And, while he had no specific dislike of the demons who served under him, to call him a demon implied that his status was much lower.

The easiest access point to the roof was a ladder located on the back of the train on the brake van. He swallowed his irritation at what was most likely an unintentional slight made by Anubis and ran toward the end of the train. Anubis simply teleported to the top of the train and waited for Azazel to join him.

Azazel nearly stumbled when he stepped up onto the top of the train before finding his footing. Once he regained his balance, he followed Anubis toward the sound of multiple people screaming on one of the cars up ahead.

Anubis raised his deep voice to be heard over the sound of wind and the metal wheels scraping along the tracks. The necromancer knows we’re coming. He snatched several people off the train and is trying to speed up the process by harvesting all of their souls at once rather than taking people one by one.

How many people does he need to kill before the Ka is permanently attached to the mummy?

Seven.

Why seven?

The number seven is perfection. Completeness. Once the mummy ingests seven souls, it will be whole again.

It’s ingested at least two on the train, and we have no idea how many people have already died since they came up here.

No, we do not. Which is why we must hurry.

Zeroing in on the necromancer and the mummy feasting on his macabre soul buffet on the car ahead of them, Azazel summoned two glowing orbs of fire to his palms and lobbed them at the necromancer’s head. Anubis produced a staff with an ankh on top of it from somewhere in his robes and began chanting an incantation in his native tongue. The mummy, who had begun to look more like a normal human rather than a three-thousand-year-old corpse, lifted its head from the mouth of a woman shriveling to dust in its arms and shrieked at them like only something from beyond the grave could. Azazel spent most of his time in Hell, but he was a bit rattled by the sight of the mummy administering its kiss of death.

The necromancer said something to the mummy Azazel couldn’t hear and the creature began feeding on the woman again. As they got closer, the necromancer wielded more of the dark magic he’d used to raise the mummy and summoned a swarm of locusts to attack them.

Azazel had a healthy respect for magic and understood the consequences of using it for the wrong reasons. He’d been an Archangel before he fell, but he’d managed to make it to the top of God’s shitlist long before Lucifer did. Azazel fell in love with Lilith after she was banished from The Garden. Her refusal to bend to Adam’s will turned him on. He didn’t mind her desire to be treated as an equal and even encouraged her to take a more dominant role in their lovemaking. He taught her magic, making her the first witch. Their children, the Nephilim, were beautiful and dangerous, and the reason why angels mating with mortal women became one of the cardinal no-noes.

God’s punishment was focused solely on Lilith, who was labeled Evil with a capital E and forever marked as the Mother of Monsters. Their children weren’t monsters, but God still ordered them to be hunted and exterminated. The love he shared with Lilith wasn’t strong enough to survive the loss of their children. They parted ways and never spoke again. So, when he witnessed someone using magic recklessly for their own personal gain, it touched upon an old wound that had never quite healed. He was momentarily frozen in his painful memories while Anubis battled the swarm of insects alone.

Everything, copacetic, demon?

Azazel came back to himself and flung another orb of fire at the necromancer. Don’t call me that. Demons are lower beings. I am one of the Fallen.

My apologies. You can explain the difference to me over a drink when we are done here. Anubis resumed his incantation while Azazel kept the necromancer occupied with flaming projectiles and even managed to hit the mummy, engulfing it in flames. The mummy shrieked again in that otherworldly way, and as its mouth opened, a shadowy form that Azazel assumed was the Ka, escaped into the night sky and was gone.

When the necromancer was finally dead, Azazel helped the survivors down off the top of the train and returned them to the safety of their compartments. He reassured the porter that the danger had ended, and everyone could go about their business.

Later, when Azazel and Anubis finished reinterring the mummy in its tomb in the Valley of the Kings, by way of a shortcut through Duat, they adjourned to the hotel room Azazel had booked for his assignment in Cairo.

That was quite an adventure, Anubis said.

Azazel handed the jackal-headed god a glass of whisky and made himself comfortable in a leather wingback chair. Usually, I prefer to work alone, but that was fun.

I apologize again for my earlier offense. I do not understand the hierarchy of Hell.

Before Azazel could explain the nuances of that hierarchy, Lucifer came through a portal in a state of excited bewilderment.

Alarmed, Azazel stood and went to his brother. What is it? What’s happened?

Lucifer gripped Azazel’s shoulders in a gesture that mimicked an embrace and looked into his eyes. Lillian is in labor. Your bride-to-be is being born.

Chapter Two

Hell, February 14, 1946

What does a Fallen Angel give a girl on her seventeenth birthday? Too old for dolls, but a voodoo doll might not be out of the question. No, a voodoo doll was too dark a gift, even for the daughter of a Mambo. The party would begin in less than an hour, and Azazel didn’t want to show up empty-handed. He would be meeting Eleanora Fagan in person for the first time today, and he wanted to make a good impression. He paced the length of his sleeping chamber, clicking his cloven hooves on the dark stone floor, and tried to jog his memory by playing back conversations he’d had with Eleanora’s father, Samael. Had they spoken of his daughter’s likes and dislikes?

Having second thoughts about attending the soiree? Lucifer’s deep, honey-smooth voice startled Azazel and he stopped pacing.

Even with Lucifer’s large, vulture-like wings casting a shadow over his face, Azazel knew his brother was smiling and having a laugh at his expense. The Fallen may have been preoccupied with darkness, but that didn’t mean they were without humor. Azazel’s eyes were drawn to the gift Lucifer held. It was a thin, rectangular black box tied with a blood red velvet ribbon.

What’s that?

Lucifer sighed. A gift for Eleanora. It’s impolite to show up to a birthday party without a gift. You have a gift for her, right?

I have no idea what to give her. She’s turning seventeen, so not quite a little girl anymore, but still innocent enough that I need to take care in what I offer her. I don’t want to offend her, or worse, her father. I know she likes to read, but my taste in books runs from black magic to erotica. Her mother is teaching her magic, so it would be presumptuous of me to give the girl a grimoire. Clothing is right out. If I bring her something in her size, Samael will think I’ve been spying on her.

Lucifer laughed. Well, haven’t you?

Only once or twice, Azazel lied. He had been watching Nora grow up since the day she was born, however he didn’t spy on her like some pervert. He wasn’t stalking her. He simply watched over her from time to time to ensure her safety, and unfortunately, not often enough to know what she wanted for her birthday.

Dear brother, I think you’re making things more complicated than they need to be. She’s still a girl, and from what I’ve seen of her, she’s smart as well as pretty. What would you give a chaste, young woman you fancied from afar?

Azazel’s shoulders tightened. You don’t think I…she…she’s only seventeen.

Lucifer laughed again. Relax, brother. I’m not accusing you of anything, but you don’t have to hide your true feelings from me. I know how much you care about her. Like I said, she’s a wonderful girl. I just thought it might be helpful to start thinking of her as someone you were hoping to woo. At the very least, to tempt into a friendship. Pretend she’s someone you want to know better, someone who trusts you, and perhaps, you’re someone she can learn to love.

Azazel didn’t have to work too hard to pretend that he wanted Eleanora to trust and love him. However, propriety would only allow him to offer her friendship. What would he give a friend he wanted to build a lasting relationship with? I’ve got it!

The screams of the Damned echoed through the chamber, and Lucifer cocked his head toward the sound that rose and fell in intensity five times. It’s 5:00. We need to go. Samael is expecting us.

I wish there was a better way to tell time down here, Azazel said absently, as he prepared himself for the trip to Earth. Those screams are doing my head in.

Lucifer looked back over his shoulder at Azazel before stepping out of the sleeping chamber into the hallway. We’ve been telling time that way for eons. I quite like the sound of the Damned screaming for mercy.

Azazel was right behind his brother. Maybe it’s time to consider a different method. There’s a clockmaker in the Black Forest who makes the most beautifully grotesque timepieces. We could commission him to make something special. Given his interest in black magic, I’m sure he’d be delighted to custom make a clock for the Devil.

Lucifer shook his head. Fine. Make up some sketches and I’ll consider it. But now, we’re late for Eleanora’s party. Did you decide what to give her?

Yes, I’m going to give her a flower.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at Azazel. Just one?

One very special flower. We’ll need to make a quick stop on Mount Pichincha in Ecuador. Azazel stood shoulder to shoulder with Lucifer.

Lucifer conjured the portal with a wave of his hand and a spell he recited in his mind. As you wish, but why Ecuador?

Azazel stepped through the portal after Lucifer. "That’s the only place where the Dracula vampira orchid grows."

Ah, yes, said Lucifer before closing the portal behind them. That is an appropriate gift for a Fallen Angel to give a girl on her seventeenth birthday.

Azazel found a grouping of the rare, black orchids at the base of a large tree covered in thick, twisting vines. He conjured a heavy crystal vase with the snap of his fingers, and filled the bottom of it with the rich soil the flowers