Corrupt Cravings

The Soul Collector 2

JENNIFER SALAIZ

Copyright © 2010

Chapter 1

Fate rarely gives people what they want. The pieces of love and happiness they receive along the way are what inspire them to feel fulfilled. Samael wasn’t stupid. That little thing everyone called destiny had screwed him on more occasions than he cared to remember. But when it came to Marcella, now that had been the ultimate fuck you.

Yeah, he hoped Lady Luck was looking back down on him. She’d see him raising his middle finger high in the air with a proper response to all the damn heartache he’d been caused. Bringing Marcella back should have been what saved him, but no, when she returned, so did her men. He hadn’t expected that to happen. Yeah, the bitch Fate had fucked him once again. She always did. Maybe Samael should have learned, but once upon a time, he had been shown what good could do, and ever since, he felt the beginnings of a faith he couldn’t explain. Daddy would be so proud.

Rubbing his eyes, he went over the last few weeks in his head. Making Marcella believe she’d asked to come back was just one of his many lies. If she knew the entire truth, she would loathe him. And he deserved every ounce of hate her body harbored. But Samael couldn’t help the events he’d started by selfishly resurrecting her. She was the light he needed, and now, thanks to him, she was probably condemned to an agonizing death all over again. He truly was his father’s son.

Looking down the long table, Zepar, his older brother and the president to all the master demons, stood as he went over reports. The look on his tanned, boyish face was one of complete boredom. Of course, after so many meetings, everything did seem to remain the same. Same old shit, different century. Go figure.

“Samael, do you have anything to report before I close up?”

Crystal blue eyes, the same as his and his father’s, stared back at him. Fingers rushed through the short, black hair while Zepar waited for a response. A smile came to Samael’s lips.
Yes, my brother, dear. I’ve brought back the love of my miserable life, and instead of us living happily ever after, it seems the war between good and evil is back on. Except this time, my sweet Marcianna, AKA Marcella, has made other plans. Plans I’m not even aware of.

Samael cleared his throat. “No. Nothing new.”

“How is Ipos? Is he faring well with the humans?”

Samael thought of the demon prince, who happened to be Marcella’s mate. He went by the human name of Dominic. Just hearing the man mentioned sent a rage coursing through his blood. How could the man have been right under his nose, and he never knew who he truly was? Damn, he’d been stupid. Regardless, he couldn’t hate Dom, no matter how hard he tried. The guy was just too good to the woman he loved.

“Ipos is a success in the human world, that’s why I sent him there. How many times are we going to go over this?”

Zepar narrowed his eyes, a smile lifting the edge of his full lips. “As many times as it takes, my dear brother. You know I never approved of letting the prince leave to begin with. He’s too much of an asset. If something happens, you know I’ll hold you responsible.”

Samael knew exactly what he was talking about. The fear that Dominic would turn good and they’d lose one of the fiercest leaders to their troops weighed heavily on his brother’s mind. And Zepar should have been worried because as far as Samael was concerned, Marcella was capable of anything. Turning someone toward the good side would be a piece of cake. Hell, she’d made him, a dark angel, take a step back and ponder things. Who would have thought that was possible?

“I take full responsibility.” Samael stood from the plush, black velvet chair. The rest of the masters followed suit.

“Good. Meeting adjourned. Until next time.”

Samael headed for the door, ready to escape the confines of the stuffy room. A throat clearing had his feet coming to a stop. He should have known his brother wasn’t done with him.

“Shut the door and take a seat. There’s something I wish to speak to you about.”

“What couldn’t possibly be said during the meeting? You know my schedule is pretty tight. I really don’t have time for this.”

A low laugh brought his eyes up. Zepar gestured to the chair, his expression saying only one thing,
you’re so fucking busted.
Shit. Sitting next to the head chair, Samael kept contact with his stare.

“So, where have you been lately? You rarely spend time in your quarters anymore. Is there something you should be telling me?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Last I checked, you weren’t my keeper. But, if you must know, I have a place on earth. Human women are rather enjoyable. They’re different from the ones here. Less drama, if you will.”

“You sure that’s all?”

“Well, actually,” Samael continued, letting his smile mirror his brother’s, “there is something.”

“Do tell.” The all-too-eager look of evil flashed behind Zepar’s eyes. Buying some time, Samael looked at the dark, red and gold lace-patterned walls. Everything in the underworld was nothing like what people expected. There were no raging fires or torture devices in mile-long rows. No. The place was a lot like earth.

The people who resided in the underworld didn’t physically go through pain. Not unless they enjoyed inflicting it in their previous lives. The majority of them dealt with mental anguish as their persecution. Needless to say, every day, they relived the hell they exhibited to others. Nothing like a cold slap of reality.

“Well, I’m waiting.”

“Right.” Samael pushed his long hair back out of his face. “One word. Angels. I’m thinking of setting a trap.”

There it was. Pure malevolence poured from his brother’s skin, leaving the room musky and metallic. “You let me know when. I
have
to see this. If it’s who I think it is, I’m going to snap his Goddamn wings off.”

Samael laughed. “Nemmy would kick your ass, Zepar.” Nemamiah, or Nemmy as they referred to him, might have been an angel, but he was a warrior, nevertheless. The damn man was a force to be reckoned with. If stalking was against some sort of law for their kind, Nemmy would have been slapped with a restraining order a hell of a long time ago. The guy always picked Samael to watch over. They shared way too much history.

“Fuck you, Sam. That angel doesn’t have shit on me. I should rearrange your face for even saying something like that.”

“Well, as I hear it, Nemmy isn’t alone anymore.”

Blue eyes widened as his brother leaned in closer, resting his chin on his fist. Samael knew the wheels were spinning inside of Zepar’s head faster than he could dish out the latest gossip. “Really. Now that’s something new. Who’s Nemmy paired up with? Gabriel?” Zepar asked curiously.

“Yeah, right. Like he’d leave his position pouncing through the clouds. You couldn’t even guess.”

A growl left the demon master’s mouth. “No.” He drew the one word out for what seemed an eternity. “Tell me it’s not that bastard Caspius. I swear, if you say it is I’m going to blow that son of a bitch back to where he came from.”

“None other. So, you want me to summon you when I have everything worked out?” Samael ran his fingers over the stubble on his face. Zepar looked way too distracted, and it was exactly what he needed.

“You’d better.”

Samael nodded and dematerialized before his brother could say anything else. Fuck, that was a close one. The whole angel crap might have bought him some time, but it was truer than he wanted to think about.

Appearing in his penthouse, Samael stood at the room-length windows, motionless, staring out over the Gulf of Mexico. With the way Corpus Christi was located along the Texas coast, he got a perfect view of the edgings of Ingleside. He knew if Dominic hadn’t shielded the fortress, he’d be able to see it from here. Where was Marcella? Was she standing out on her balcony like she always was? No, not this early. With a sigh, he walked over and collapsed into his bed. The sun was just starting to come up, which only meant one thing. Sleep.

* * * *

An overpowering need caused Marcella’s eyes to open. Walking disoriented out to the balcony of her fortress, she stood dazed as the smell of salt water engulfed her senses from the mere miles that separated her from the Gulf.

Wind whipped through her long, dark hair as the sun broke over the small town, casting off beautiful shades of pink and orange. From as high as she rested off the ground, the murky, dark green water aligning the coast came into clear view. The buildings of the nearby city grabbed her attention, but they didn’t hold her attention for long.

Flashes of her past life began to project before her. They were getting stronger the more she learned about the queen she used to be. Somehow, this vision didn’t seem any different from the others, except that she had woken up to have it. Locked with the familiar face, her own face, she couldn’t turn away from watching Marcianna stare at her. The crown resting on her forehead glistened in the sunlight as she began to come forward.

Marcella could feel her heart race at the advance of her former self. She knew no matter what her dark angel friend, Samael, had said, they couldn’t be the same person. Not when Marcianna seemed to have a mind of her own, not to mention her own personality, separate from Marcy’s. Of course, it could have just felt that way because she hadn’t regained all of her memories. Hell, when it came to figuring out her past, she was lost.

Golden eyes came to rest inches in front of her face, pulling her from focusing on her racing mind. The beginnings of a smile started to form at the corner of the pale queen’s ruby lips. The need to smile back was strangely instinctive. It was almost as if they shared something, something Marcy couldn’t decipher. This person didn’t seem so ruthless. Not at the moment, anyway.

“We have done well, my young self. If you’ve grown this open, then I have advanced as far as I knew I would. Do not fear me, for I know you will. I wouldn’t trust myself, either, were I put in this situation.

“If you haven’t figured it out, then know this is nothing more than one of my memories speaking to you. I have left a few that you will cross in your progression. I fear I do not know where I rest on this conquest as of now, but there is something imperative you should know. Heed my advice well, for if you do not, we are doomed to repeat our past.” There was a pause as the queen seemed to think on how to relay the message. “There are certain men in our life who are not what they appear to be. Only one holds the key.”

A ripple distorted the image Marcella could see before her. As Marcianna’s concerned face twisted with sadness, the soft touch of her hand to Marcy’s cheek ended the vision. A cluster of emotions poured through her as she sunk to all fours on the empty balcony. Heartache and sorrow like she’d never felt before exploded through every part of her being.

What did she mean the men weren’t what they appeared to be? And who held the key to what?

Tears splashed against the stone as sobs wracked her chest. The instability of her mind was doing nothing but crippling her lately. How could she focus on bringing everything together to protect her and her followers if she couldn’t even get a grip on herself?

“Love, what’s wrong?”

Marcella looked up into the blue eyes of her demon mate, Dominic. The blonde curls framed his face while he lowered his large, powerful body down toward her. His angelic features turned beyond beautiful as the sun haloed out from behind him. In awe, Marcella momentarily lost her train of thought. The muscles in his chest flexed while his hand reached for her shoulder. The tightening in her lower stomach was automatic.

“Nothing is wrong. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

He scooped her body in his arms, carrying her to the bed. Energy caressed her skin, and she didn’t have to look up to know her boyfriend, Jason, or her newest lover was awake and waiting to hear what happened. Mindlessly, Marcella shook her head and wiggled down from Dominic’s arms. She was not weak, and she wasn’t going to start acting like it, either. Easing to the edge of the bed, she closed her eyes while Dom started to pace.