Loved by Heaven Fouled by Hell Pt. 07

Andrealphus slowly had begun to regain his composure ever since Lucretia had let him out of the chapel. His power was quickly returning to him, and he soon found that if he refrained from shifting his form for a while, the pain abated and the wounds healed much faster.

In his current form--that of a man pierced by arrows, his face hidden behind a featureless mask--he got up and began to pace, testing the limits of his chain. Surely, the thing was iron, and iron burned him in the material world, but every chain had a weak link. And if he ground his teeth and bore the pain and made the best use of it for long enough, he could use it to get his revenge.

And oh, what a glorious, bloody, horrible thing his revenge would be! During those long days he had spent in that chapel, he had made sure to devise new, unimaginable cruelties for her, the likes of which had not been thought of even by the master of Abaddon! Already he played them out in his mind, and it helped greatly in abating the pain of his wounds.

He knew that she had cast a spell of binding that held both him and the stoic angel captive here. He also knew that they were unable to harm her unless the spell was undone. But he needed to know the spell of binding and to utter it backward, thus negating its hold on them.

But to know the spell, he needed access to the library. And to do that, he needed to gain her trust. And that would take a steely resolve and a lot of patience.

Thankfully, his millennia-long experience as a citizen of Abaddon had supplied him with both.

***

Lucretia found that her little angel slave was more than a perfect match for her, serving to dispel her feelings of disgust and guilt, if only temporarily. She would go to him after she had dreamed of Eli, and he would soothe her with tales of grandeur of men that could have been. When she came home, haunted by the bitter stares of her subordinates, Hael would tell her of their woes, and she would address them. When she did not feel the need for carnal pleasure, he would sing to her the sonnets of Heaven.

What she also found out, during her regular trips to the old dining room where she held the demon, was that that creature proved to be an excellent advisor, despite his apparent lack of taste in choosing his forms.

The first time she asked for his advice, he had assumed the form of a decapitated woman, speaking to her through the severed head in her arms. It told her of impending treachery by one of the company's shareholders, and she planned ahead, eliminating her enemy before he could act.

The second time, he had the form of a large dog, sick by some strange disease, its hide covered in scabs. She asked him about the loyalty of a man she was considering as a financial advisor, and the demon told her to instead place her trust in his son, who was not as much of a bastard as his father. The man, though only twenty years old, was moral and put his client before himself.

The third time, the demon had abandoned his grotesque forms and had this time turned himself into a handsome young man in his late thirties, dressed sharply, with just a hint of brimstone all about him, and slitted eyes, like a snake's. This time, however, Andrealphus had known she wasn't there for business.

"Your angel is boring you," he said before flashing a grin.

"How did you know?"

"Your squeals of pleasure have abated. Besides, he is too good for you."

"I'm not good enough for him, is that what you're saying?"

"No. What I meant to say is that he is, above all things, a creature of Heaven. He means well but lacks imagination." He paused, looked her in the eyes, and then added: "And I think you know exactly what I mean."

She crossed her hands over her chest defensively, feeling suddenly exposed to this creature. Andrealphus's smug look, on the other hand, indicated that he enjoyed it immensely.

"No. I don't," she insisted.

"You are not looking for a lover. You were born a slave, under the yoke of a creature who put you at risk and made you cheat Heaven and Hell for him so he could get away from both. He raised you under his shadow and made sure you never were anything more than an advisor to him, or maybe some useful little tool. Eli Mandrake did the absolute minimum, in order to ensure that his daughter would be nothing without him."

"Yet here I am, in his house at the top of the world."

"True. But you can't really kick that old habit, can you? You can't really grow beyond the way he raised you. You're not looking for a man to love you or for one for you to order around." Lucretia bit her lip despite herself. The sound of his voice made her tremble in anticipation "You need a man to order you around. Because this is what Eli taught you to be."

Lucretia got up and started walking away when Andrealphus spoke again.

"It's why you couldn't enjoy using your power over those two candidates or your chauffeur."

She felt the color draining from her face, as she turned to look at him.

"It's why you felt so sick of yourself." He got up, but the chain tugged at his neck. "It's why you need your little heavenly slave to make you feel better. But it doesn't go away, does it? No, you just forget about it for a few hours, and then it comes back, strong as ever."

"What should I do?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"Release me from my iron shackles, and you will see."

"No," she said, walking away, but there was little conviction in her voice. Lucretia herself knew that she would be back soon enough...