Naamah

"You are a fallen angel and a daemon," he continued. "We have no souls. But by declaring your love and meaning it you have achieved that which we cannot do. You are no longer daemon. You are now human with all the frailties and weaknesses of humankind. Unbelievably you have gained a soul. You will age and die." The voice rose until it thundered, "You are fortunate we are linked, and losing you drew me here. I have come to save you from your weakness. You were one of my Queens and I will not lose you. I will strip you of your soul as we do to humans destined for Hell. After, however you will be one of the lowest daemons, serving my will."

Naamah tried to scramble backwards away from the apparition. From what he said I assumed he was not just any daemon, but probably Samael, fallen archangel and Lord of Daemons. Still facing me, he pointed back at Naamah, who was transfixed, bereft of movement. The hand rotated lazily and Naamah's clothes disappeared into smoke. "Crawl here, woman," he commanded. She complied, as if she had no option. He laughed, an unpleasant sound that made my ears tingle.

He then pointed to himself and moved his pointing finger down his body. As he did his clothes disappeared. His skin was dark and leathery, but jutting out from his groin was an enormous, double headed phallus. Naamah had crawled to where he had pointed and now knelt in front of Samael. Put your head down and present yourself to your Master, he roared. She did as she was bid. He dropped to his knees behind her, prepared to violate both orifices at once.

"I will rip the soul from your body with pain, and your pathetic lover can watch."

He looked at me and grinned, showing a mouth full of pointed teeth, more suitable for rending flesh than anything else. "Or are you going to stop me, human?"

Naamah told me before that I had divine inspiration, when I choose the right tattoo to protect Alice and myself. Perhaps it was just luck, but maybe, just maybe, someone was looking out for me. A guardian angel? By my left hand lay the paperweight pebble and just by my right hand was the paint brush I had been using with my sketch pad. Without thinking I picked them up and with three quick strokes drew Ж, the symbol that hurt Naamah so much, the one she said would injure any daemon. I looked up to see Samael holding Naamah's hips and just about to thrust forwards.

"Yes," I said in a loud voice, enough to get his attention. "I am going to stop you." And with that I threw the pebble straight at his face. Luck again? I hit him between the eyes on the base of his forehead. The paint was still wet and the stone acted like a stamp, leaving the mark perfectly printed on Samael's skin.

The scream was so powerful it knocked me out. A bit like a stun grenade. I must have been out for a minute or so. When I came to, my ears were ringing so badly I couldn't hear anything. Naamah looked unconscious, and Samael lay up against the far wall, smoke drifting out his eyes, ears and mouth. As I watched the smoke got thicker and his body started to dissipate until all that was left was a thinning cloud of smoke, and a black smudge on the wallpaper.

I got up and staggered across to Naamah, pulled her to her feet and hoisted her over my shoulder. I staggered through to the bedroom where I managed to get us both into the bed. The knock I had got on the head from hitting the wall probably gave me a bit of concussion. I should have stayed awake, but very rapidly I was asleep, cuddled up tight to Naamah.

By the time I woke up the next morning, I was in bed by myself. My head throbbed terribly and I felt sick. My vision was a bit blurry in my left eye. I fumbled my way to the bathroom and relieved myself, then walked through to the kitchen. I put on a pot of coffee and walked gingerly through to the lounge. It was normal -- no signs of the altercation from the night before. My sketchpad was on the little table by my chair, there was no mark on the wall where Samael had rested as he dissolved. And there was no Naamah!

My house was small enough that she couldn't hide, ergo she wasn't there. I slumped down into my chair, worried and depressed.

My next recollection was a cool cloth being placed gently on my forehead. I jumped.

"Thank God you're awake," cried Alice. Naamah was just behind her. "Enn came to get me, saying you had fallen last night and banged your head, and she couldn't wake you this morning."

"Yeh, I think I might have a concussion. I just sat down for a minute, then nothing."

"Did you have breakfast, any painkillers?"

"No, I put on some coffee but obviously fell asleep before I had it."

Both girls wanted me to go to the doctors but I declined. "No need. I know what's wrong. All I need is rest and Brufen. And coffee."

"No coffee," exclaimed Alice. "It's a stimulant. Drink lots of water."

Sunday 7^th -- Thursday 12^th December.

I gradually improved over the week. I phoned Esme Monday morning and told her I'd had an accident, had concussion. We rearranged my work to avoid me having to go in at all for the week. She did visit us Tuesday evening after work to collect some illustrations I had done but not taken in to the office, and probably to check up on me.

She and Naamah split a bottle of wine and discussed me as if I wasn't there, despite me sitting with them. As Naamah cleared away the glasses I let Esme out.

"Remember I'm on holiday Friday and Monday, Esme!"

"Yes, but in the circumstances I didn't think you'd be going now."

"I'm still going, but with Enn, not Sandi. She traded up, but I think I've got the best out of the break-up. Don't you?

"Oh Hell yes, David. Enn is just the girl for you. You'd be stupid to let this one go," and with a kiss on the cheek she was off.

I phoned Alice Thursday and told her my plans. She was over the moon, but did have a word of caution. "Are you certain, D? I think she's great but you've only known her for a few weeks?"

"I've never been more certain of anything, Al. I'm really in love. I thought I loved Sandi, but my feelings about Naamah are so much stronger. I hope you'll be happy for me, but I'm definite whatever."

"Go for it, Davie. I love you."

Weekend Friday 13^th- Monday 16^th December.

Friday morning after breakfast I packed a small bag while Naamah was having a shower. After a leisurely coffee I called a taxi, which took us to the station. "What's going on, David?" she asked.

"Wait and see," was all I would say.

She got excited when I bought tickets for London. "What are we going to see? A show? Come on, tell me, please."

"Nope, it's a surprise."

Well, surprise it was when our taxi from King's Cross took us to the Shard. The Shangri-La Hotel is situated on the upper levels in the Shard, with magnificent views across the city. I'd booked one of the Premier City View rooms. We could sit on a settee and look across London, see The Eye, Saint Pauls, Big Ben, Westminster and lots more. They even provided a pair of binoculars. That evening we went to see 'Wicked' at the Apollo Victoria. It was great fun.

Saturday started with a swim in the pool on the 52^nd floor, followed by breakfast. Then shopping. I took Naamah to Covent Garden and we browsed through the various shops and boutiques, bought her some clothes. A couple of cocktail dresses, 3 long evening gowns and a couple of everyday dresses. I'd packed spare jeans and tops from home. I got a jacket and a couple of new shirts. My credit card was taking a hit, but the hotel had already been paid for. I'd gone for something expensive for two reasons. First, I was going to propose to Sandi when I had originally booked the weekend, and secondly I'd just had a big bonus from work for some illustrations they had sold to another publisher.

After lunch we Christmas shopped. Christmas day was just eleven days away! We picked up presents for Charlie and Jackie, something for Esme. Small gifts for Helen and Julie, Alice's flatmates.

For Alice we bought vouchers for a spa day and a West End show. Naamah also insisted we get her a necklace -- we had passed a small goldsmith and she dragged me in. The design? The same as I had hennaed onto her belly on Halloween night. She giggled as I drew it out for the smith. He agreed for an extra fee that he could get it made for Christmas, and would get it couriered to us in time. Again another big hit on my credit card, but Alice was worth it. I loved my little sis and appreciated the fact that Naamah knew it. As we left I suddenly turned back. "I forgot something, just hang on here love and I'll be back in a minute."

I went back into the shop and chucked him my card again. "Can you make two of them, identical, in time?"

"You're asking a bit, young man, aren't you?"

"The one we ordered is for my sister. I want another for my girlfriend. Soon I hope my fiancée."

He must have been a bit of a softy, as he agreed. Payment made I rejoined Naamah.

That evening we dined at the Aqua Shard, one of the restaurants in the Shard building. I had Smoked Tuna followed by Seared Wood Pigeon. Naamah had seared Foie Gras followed by Cornish Lamb. She finished with a white chocolate and truffle pudding while I had the cheeseboard. Afterwards we went up to the 52^nd floor to the cocktail bar, where I ordered champagne. Then, in the busy bar, I got down on one knee and asked Naamah to marry me. Her squeal of delight obviously alerted the bar as she threw herself into my arms and burst into tears.

This is London, you don't get anything for nothing, but within a couple of minutes one of the bar staff arrived with two glasses of pink champagne, courtesy of the house, to congratulate us on our engagement. I slipped the ring on Naamah's finger. It was the proudest moment of my life.

Saturday 31^st October, Halloween, 1 year on.

We had a small intimate service, with Alice as bridesmaid, Esme as Maid of Honour and Charlie as my best man. Despite everything that had happened, Naamah seemed a normal human, she got sore throats, could catch cold, but did seem healthier that most of the people I knew. She still always felt warm, even in cold weather. I tool her temperature once and it was nearly two degrees higher than normal. The high temperature probably helped her ward off most infections.

She was so easy to talk to that she had built up a circle of close friends. She was also on our books now, as an author. She wrote short stories for young children, which I illustrated.

How does a fallen angel become accepted into society? In modern times, everyone needs a history, paperwork. Naamah had nothing. Again my artist's skills came in to play. I forged a birth certificate! It's amazing what you can find on the internet. I managed to get a copy of a genuine birth certificate from Venezuela, and was able to forge one for Naamah. As a publisher, we have access to all sorts of different paper, so was able to get the right sort to allay suspicion. Once I forged it we then aged it. Lots of folding and unfolding, some coffee stains, and some sweat from me carrying it around in my back pocket for a week.

It was scruffy but was accepted as real, so I took my Venezuelan fiancée, Naamah Angel, to the Venezuelan Embassy in London to have them check her out. After jumping through various hoops they finally accepted her as part Warao, one of the indigenous tribes of Venezuela, which explained the lack of documents. She explained that she had been brought to the UK as a youngster, with family friends who were no longer here. She had stayed but the only document she had ever had was a birth certificate. We got her passport three weeks before the wedding date, and managed to book a honeymoon abroad. She was now an accepted member of British life, with a soon to be British husband. With that she could get a driving licence, a bank account, and all the other paraphernalia of modern living

For a honeymoon we spent three weeks working our way through the top part of South America. We visited Venezuela, of course, Ecuador and Peru, including walking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. We had a wonderful time and came back even more in love.

We settled down as a normal married couple.

Summer -- three years further.

My second exhibition was due to finish next weekend. All of the paintings had been bought in the first 24 hours, but the buyers were required to leave them in the exhibition until it finished. Esme's friend Christian was only too happy to stage the first exhibition at his gallery, at Esme's recommendation. When it proved so popular, he was desperate to do any further ones I wanted to stage. As he had taken the chance originally, and as we got on well, I decided to give him first option on any future shows.

My third book came out two days ago. It was already at the top of the best sellers list before its release date, thanks mainly to Amazons pre-release sales figures. It was the third part in the 'Fallen Angel' trilogy. Book one, 'Fallen Angel', was slightly slow to take off, but some good reviews suddenly saw it moving up the ranks. A bit like the Twilight Saga or Divergence series, it seemed to take on a life of its own. Like an avalanche, it started with a small movement and gathered momentum, until it became an unstoppable force. Book two, 'Redemption' , was already in the top ten by the time it was released, and this one, the final book, 'Wings of White' was breaking all records.

I collected Christian from the station. He'd come for the weekend as we were having a big shindig to celebrate. We got into my new range Rover and headed off. Shortly I signalled and turned off up a sweeping gravel drive, behind the parish Church. At the top of the little hill stood our new house, The New Hall. I had bought the derelict ruins of the burnt out Old Hall, and had builders demolish it and build me a new version. Only on two floors, but built on three sides, with the front at the end of the drive. Two wings stretched back, the East one ending in an indoor swimming pool. On good days we could open the side doors to make it semi-open aired. The basement has been turned into a leisure area, with our own personal gym and a small home cinema. We had eight bedrooms and a dining room which could seat around thirty people. Between the wings were the formal gardens. From there the grounds stretched for another three hundred yards, sloping downwards towards an orchard with a stream running through it.

As I pulled up Naamah come out to greet us. She waddled a bit now, but an eight month baby bump does that to a girl. Holding her hand was our beautiful two year old daughter. Jet black hair like her mother, but sometimes the light seemed to give it deep red highlights. She smiled and cried out "Daddy," so I picked her up.

"Go through Christian," said Naamah, "Esme's just in the hall and will show you where to put your things, then go into the garden. The barbecue will start shortly. I think you'll know most of the people here from previous get-togethers.

As he went in to the hall, I put my arm round Naamah. "You don't feel anything, do you? No pull from the portal, the trap where you entered our realm?"

She smiled. "Don't look so scared, I don't feel anything."

"It's just that if you look around, see what we've got. I'm now rich, stinking rich, from the sale of the paintings and the books. And I have you, Angela and the bump. Riches galore. You've completed your task, so I'm now scared that you'll go back to that other place."

She kissed me. "No. I won't be going back. Have I completed my task? Maybe you're not rich enough yet, maybe I won't have completed it until you have a son." She kissed me again. "You changed me, remember. I now have a soul, I'm human. There is nothing to draw me back to that realm. And remember you protected me," and she held up her necklace with the pentagram inside a circle with a sunburst effect outside that. "You know I never take it off, so no daemons can harm me. I'm yours, now and forever." Her lips gently brushed mine. "I'm yours forever, David Lord. You ARE my Lord and Master."

I put Angela down and she walked into the house between us, holding our hands.

Behind them, they didn't see the faint heat shimmer as a gust of hell-hot air washed across the top of the gravelled drive.

And in the Underworld Samael screamed.

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