Broken Faith (Another Falls Creek Romance, #5): Another Falls Creek Romance, #5

By SF Benson

A conscientious dark angel, a gracious human, and too many secrets…

Falls Creek is a town where supernaturals live out in the open, but only select humans know their existence. Whether it's in the water or something more sinister, love has come to Falls Creek and nobody is immune.

But should that include a foul-mouthed dark angel who loves tempting humans? Theseon is good at keeping souls out of Heaven and is willing to keep up the job until he meets Grace—a woman who has the heart of a saint.

Falling in love breaks every rule of Hell. Theseon must face his worst fears while Grace must overcome hers. Will love redeem a dark soul?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Avanturine Press
• Release date: Jan 27, 2019
• ISBN: 9798223150145

SF Benson

SF Benson, a Michigan native, resides in Southern California with her husband, a human daughter, and a couple of miniature fur kids (two female short-haired guinea pigs). At one time, she wrangled a household which included three Samoyeds, saltwater fish, a hamster, and three guinea pigs. She’s an avid bookworm who appreciates a well-written book regardless of genre. SF prefers writing stories about strong, diverse protagonists set in dystopian, science fiction, or paranormal worlds. Connect with Author SF Benson: Be the first one to find out news about releases and giveaways! Email List https://bit.ly/3GnDYCk Facebook www.facebook.com/bensonsf Twitter @bensonshantella

Book preview

1

Theseon

Contrary to mankind’s beliefs, evil lurks everywhere, but it’s not just the obvious places you expect to find us—bars, nightclubs, and back alleys. My kind waits for innocents in the inconspicuous spots. The venues where virtue should be—libraries, hospitals, even on the steps of churches.

That last location—church—is my favorite for finding souls to break. There’s something about a house of worship that causes people to drop their guard. It must be the implied safety. The idea that a demon would never set foot on sanctified ground is a gigantic myth. It’s our favorite playground. A saint isn’t pious until someone has tested him or her. Breaking spirits on sacred ground takes a demon with special skills—like myself.

Here’s a little tip for any humans listening: pay close attention to Ephesians. Yes, I know the Bible. It’s a prerequisite in my line of work. Wrap yourselves in the armor of God and wear it twenty-four seven. Dark souls like myself seek the chinks, the cracks that allow us in. We don’t rest even when you do.

Besides prowling around for the holies, I enjoy messing with Celestials. Like the one sitting to my left. Daniel is a handsome angel that’s so divine I swear he pisses holy water. Clubs aren’t where you’ll find the Principality though. He doesn’t party, doesn’t drink, or do anything that resembles sin, which is a shame. A sculpted body like Daniel’s could entice many humans to the dark side. Shit. He could tempt me to seek the proverbial light for a few hours.

Daniel, as a rule, keeps to himself. Other than hanging with me, he has a significant other—the angel Neriah. Oops! She goes by Cherina these days. The two Celestials have been an item for years.

Like I was saying…

Daniel is straight-laced. His reason for coming to Balls Up—a sports bar and grill in Falls Creek—is the food. Plus, supernaturals can relax here. No fear of accidental discovery. No concern about rival supernaturals crouching on their territory. Balls Up is that neutral zone every town needs. It doesn’t hurt that the owner, Brady Romero, is a wolf shifter and a member of Council. Brady does everyone a favor and tips us off when trouble is brewing—either amongst the various beings or with the humans. His establishment is the best place in town for news and other pursuits.

But I digress.

Daniel and I share a strange relationship. Those of the Realm and the Nether Region seldom forge friendships, but we met a few months ago on Crucifix Island where we ran into each other. The Celestial was rushing away from the isle, and I had just emerged from Hell. Humans reported seeing fireworks—our collision—coming from the landmark.

It’s my opinion that the man upstairs put the angel in my path on purpose. Ever since that precipitous meeting, Daniel is always trying to show me the light. He thinks he can redeem my sorry ass while I work hard at tempting Daniel to walk on the heinous path. Just have a little fun. Get him out of that damned suit he’s always wearing. I’ve seen his closet—no jeans, no T-shirts, not even a pair of sneakers.

Did I forget to mention that we’re roommates?

Give up already, he says as he lifts his glass of water. I like my suits.

Who the hell drinks water in a bar?

I do. Daniel’s brown eyes pierce me. You should try it sometime.

Never touch the stuff. In all honesty, water should be restricted to bathing. That shit might put the fire out in my soul—might be the reason why the only water in Hell is in the muddy River Styx.

The Celestial’s full lips curl up in a smile. I don’t know why we bother with words since we hear each other’s thoughts.

Because it’s more fun this way. Allows us to pretend to be something we’re not. Daniel strokes his beard, which looks more like an extended goatee with a bit of scruff. Do you have any plans this evening? Those you can speak of that is.

Glancing around the near-empty bar, I realize the pickings might be slim tonight. I’ve already tested this sorry group of humans. I’m running out of victims, and in time, I’ll have to leave Falls Creek. Finding fresh souls to corrupt is a necessity for my kind. Otherwise, we get called back to Hell. I have no desire to spend eternity torturing. Exploiting pleasure is more fun.

Let’s go on a road trip, I say. I’m bored.

Not tonight, Theseon. Daniel pushes away his empty plate. I have plans. Besides, I draw the line at witnessing your debauchery.

Tossing back my whiskey, I side-glance at the angel. Remind me again why we’re friends?

He waggles his eyebrows. You like me, plus I provide a place for you to live. We’re supernatural yin and yang.

I’m about to unleash a vile comment when a cool breeze blows in. We both turn toward the open door.

An angel walks in. At least she should be one with her dark, flowing hair and enchanting dark eyes. A pastel pink dress clings to her curves. Curves that trap my mind and stir my body.

Damn. Just fuck me.

Please.

Stop drooling, Daniel says near my ear. She’s a friend of Cherina’s and off-limits.

Huh? I shake my head and notice Daniel’s female at the woman’s side. Who is she?

I’ll introduce you, but promise me you won’t try anything with the human. She’s destined for sainthood, not wickedness.

Sure, sure, I blurt, not meaning a word. Daniel’s warning barely registers with me. Dark angels can’t be trusted…shouldn’t be trusted. Our promises are as fluid as our sexuality. If I have any chance of keeping my word, however, I should stop gazing at her. But I can’t tear my eyes away from the exquisite woman.

Fuck sainthood. I’d make her a queen.

My queen.

Evening, Daniel. Theseon. It’s the saint of imperfection herself. Cherina.

Time for some clarification in case anyone is keeping score. Daniel tolerates me, perhaps because he sees me as some heavenly challenge. But Cherina abhors me—yes, angels can be hateful. She has no tolerance for those belched from the fiery pit. On more than one occasion, Cherina has told me that I should hightail my ass back to Hell. My response has always been the same—she can come with me. I’d love to teach her some things—games of perversion that would singe her fluffy, white feathers. Of course, Daniel is welcome to watch or take part. I’m not choosy.

Cherina’s chocolate eyes size me up. In your dreams.

Trust me, sweetheart. I shoot her a dangerous smile. You don’t want to know about my dreams.

Daniel clears his throat. Another warning without words, but the implication is clear—we’re going too far with a human present.

Cherina ignores me and turns toward Daniel. I wasn’t aware that Theseon would join us tonight, Daniel.

He faces Cherina. And you said nothing about bringing Grace.

Grace.

A perfect name for a vision of loveliness.

The woman offers me her hand. I’m Grace Martinez.

Nice. Instead of shaking it though, I lift it to my lips. I’m called Theseon.

The scent of roses assaults me. In general, I despise floral smells but on her… I’d bathe in a pool of petals if she joined me. A second or two passes before I drop a kiss on her skin. So soft.

An unusual name, she says.

No. It’s an extraordinary name for a—

Daniel elbows me, cutting off my words. I release her hand and come to my senses. My job is to tempt Grace, not the other way around. I’m supposed to break her will and make her crave the darkness. When it comes to her, I don’t think evil has a chance. I can’t figure it out, but there’s something lurking within her. Either way, just the brief time in her presence, makes me want to surrender. Give up all I know to be with her.

Always.

The three of them continue speaking, but I’m too mesmerized by Grace to hear the words. My dick stiffens as my heart pounds out a sensual rhythm. What the hell is wrong with me?

Stop thinking about Grace like that, Daniel says to my mind. "You promised."

Sorry, I respond. Since when do I honor promises? Someone in Hell must have gotten a drink of ice water. It’s time for me to go find a soul and twist it until it snaps—a sharp reminder of what I am and my purpose is in this world.

Leaving so soon? Cherina asks as I push off the stool.

Running my fingers through my thick, wavy hair, I allow one more look at Grace. The last thing I want to do is go. If given the chance, I’d stay by her side.

Forever.

Yeah, I say with regret. Duty calls. I’ll see you in the morning.

Nice to have met you, Grace mumbles.

I simply nod, not trusting myself to say more to her.

Daniel lifts an eyebrow. Don’t work too hard.

It’s no fun without the effort, I say and head for the door.

The Savage Spot, the newest form of entertainment in town, is a place frequented by Dark Ones—the name reserved for my kind of angel. Here we can party with our own and not worry about harvesting souls. The dim lights and techno music provide a much-needed diversion.

Finding a vacant table in a corner, I sit down with a bottle of vodka and a glass—all I need to help me forget my troubles. A beautiful angel with legs for days and perfectly round breasts appears at my side. Correction. She’s what I need to forget about the tempting human.

An hour later, I’ve fucked the female in every possible position, but I don’t feel better. Unwarranted thoughts keep invading my mind. How is this possible? No one gets under my skin. Well… Almost no one. Before I came to this world, I spent some time trying to seduce the Prince of Hell—Colt Najex. He turned me down again and again. Some nonsense about not doing angels, even dark ones.

But that was a demon. Humans don’t unnerve me. Ever.

So why can’t I get Grace off my mind?

2

Theseon

Bystanders might think I lead a glamorous life full of endless parties, beautiful women, and handsome men. They might even mistake me for a rock star, basking in the glow with easy access to drugs and alcohol. Trust me, there’s nothing fascinating about being me or my existence. Yes, I party hard and fuck often, but it ain’t easy. I may not suffer hangovers, but the next day, I feel like hell—no pun intended. Sometimes I have to pry myself off a body or two before stumbling to the front door. At least this morning, I wake up alone in my bed. It’s all that’s different about today.

That’s a bold-faced lie.

It’s so much worse. My mouth tastes like a filthy cotton sock, and my muscles ache. My eyes burn while my stomach growls like a beast. Easy stuff to deal with, but it’s the solitary thought—in reality it’s one word—consuming me I can’t handle.

Grace.

The enchanting woman has my mind bent and confused. Reaching for the half-empty bottle of vodka beside me, I realize I’m fucked and not in a good way. Humans don’t tempt dark angels. Ever. It goes against our purpose in this world. But I’d gladly trade my shadowy soul for one pure, innocent moment without a heinous agenda and spend it with Grace.

Like I said, I’m fucked.

You awake? The voice comes from the hall.

Turning up the bottle, I wave Daniel inside my room. I hope he’s not here to talk about redemption. It’s too early for it. What do you want?

He looks down at the twisted bed sheets around my nude body. I’d sit but—

Seriously? He’s worried about how clean my bed is? There are times I wonder why I bother living here. I should find my own place. Don’t be an ass this morning. Nobody slept here but me.

Daniel nods and perches on the edge of the mattress. His forehead furrows. Are you all right?

I’ll survive. I scrub a hand over my face. Remind me to stay away from the Savage Spot for a few days. I spent most of the night with a female from the club.

You don’t learn from your mistakes, Theseon. Remember last month? The Celestial studies me, waiting for a response. When I don’t speak, Daniel says, You accompanied a group of Dark Ones to their domicile and engaged in a massive weeklong orgy. It was another week before you recovered.

The memory puts a smile on my face. Eight of us, males and females, sexing each other around the clock. Walking was difficult after that adventure. I’ll admit it put all of us out of commission and pissed off Ashmedai.

What can I say? I like to fuck. It’s the truth—the one perk that comes with my job.

No. You like to wear out your body. Daniel pauses for a beat or two. "But I’m not here this morning to save your miserable soul. You have a visitor downstairs."

Something about Daniel’s enunciation of the word visitor makes me sit up. If it were another dark angel or even a female downstairs, the Celestial wouldn’t be in front of me.

Who’s here?

"Your creator. Daniel stands. I’ll be in my room if you need me."

Shit. I’d like to be in his room now. If Ashmedai is here, I’d rather not be.

Sliding open the double doors to the drawing room, I find the King of Hell standing near the unlit fireplace. A small measure of deliverance—the demon brings enough heat with him.

Shut the doors behind you, he instructs, his back to me.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell did I do wrong now?

Ashmedai, decked out in a tailored black suit, turns around. A scowl rests on his pinched face. I came to see if you were healthy. His dark eyes flash red before raking over me. You appear to be well, so I guess last night was an anomaly.

Last night? My lips twist as I shake my head, quickly going over the events. I drank too much. Went home with a female and fucked too much for too long. I just partied. Nothing unusual.

Really? Ashmedai arches an eyebrow. So, it’s normal for you not to harvest souls?

My muscles quiver. I want to sit down, but I hold my ground. No signs of weakness allowed around the demon who gave me life. There weren’t any worthy ones in town. I took the night off.

You. Took. The. Night. Off. Ashmedai’s jaw clenches.

Wrong words. I scramble to say something to excuse my behavior. What I meant to say was—

Silence! He makes a fist, and my voice disappears.

Panicked, I rub my throat, but it doesn’t help.

"It pains me when my favorite…my greatest creation fails. Ashmedai’s face reddens as his tone turns harsh. You have one job and one job only. If you can’t do it, I’ll bring you back to Hell. Perhaps you would enjoy teaching my other children? Is that a more worthy job for you?"

I shake my head. Last thing I want is to spend every day in Ashmedai’s presence. Being summoned to Hell would be a punishment.

Good. May this be the last time I need to come… He scrutinizes the casual décor, and his nose wrinkles. I’m guessing he’s not a fan of the Victorian era. After a long minute, Ashmedai waves his hand, and my voice rushes back.

I’m sorry, Father. Hanging my head, I offer, I’ll bring twice as many souls to you this evening.

No, you won’t.

My attention snaps up. I won’t?

I want one soul in particular. He locks eyes with mine. One the Realm has already marked.

A sour taste, not from last night’s activities, settles at the back of my throat. Sinking my trembling hands into my pockets, I dare ask, Who would that be, Father?

His thin lips curl up like flames. Ashmedai loves it when his creations use the familial title.

A human named Grace Angelina Martinez. The head demon pauses as if he wants the announcement to sink in. I realize she’s a challenge. No other Dark One has corrupted her. I’ll give you ten days to do so.

My jaw drops as my muscles tense. Breathing becomes difficult, and my thoughts race.