Redemption

You only get one second chance in life.

After that, you’re screwed up the rear like a bitch in heat at Mardis Gras. If you manage to redeem your soul of the evils it collected while in the mortal realm, good for you. You get to go to the sunny warm paradise of Heaven. If your soul remains tainted, or becomes even more so, you get to pop a squat in the dark vast world of Hell. But what’s even worse than either of those is if you don’t know you’re being given that second chance and you’re trapped.

In the wonderful desert wasteland of Purgatory.

Ah, yes, purgatory. Endless miles of hot dry desert with scattered oasises created by lost souls or other mysterious supernatural creatures, particularly shape-shifters, who are mostly there to provide tests and challenges for souls. Other times, the shape-shifters are there to urge souls to take their second chance while they still could. Because redemption didn’t last long.

This awesome land of sand dunes, poisonous snakes, searing hot artificial sun, and empty blue skies was my domain. Who am I?

Thorn. Son of the almighty angel, Lucifer.

Who, contrary to popular opinion, was not a red-skinned devil with fangs and claws and the like. No, it was quite the opposite. Lucifer was tall, much like myself, but unlike my dark wavy hair, Lucifer’s was thick and blonde and curly. His eyes a piercing shade of blue. His wings were almost always not revealed and he usually only did it if he wanted to intimidate or impress someone.

But enough about daddy.

I spent day after day after sun-scorching day sitting in a dark dismal office in the home of a lavish mansion in the middle of the desert; a mansion, which in fact, was hidden from the rest of the creatures here in purgatory. A cloaking device engulfed my three story desert manor, complete with a courtyard and luxurious pool and horse stables. Only gods, demigods, and redeemed souls could see my wonderful home.

Which meant my visitor count was enough so that I could count them on my hands.

It probably explained my lack of social skills.

I wiped a hand across my face before expelling a heavy sigh, then reached up to brush a hand through dark hair, pushing the keffiyah from my head so it fell like a black snake about my neck and draped over my shoulders. I stood from my mahogany desk, pinching the bridge of my nose, fed up with working in the dark. I made my way across cool hardwood floors to one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows in my office, throwing open the black shutters to allow the summer sun into the room. It flooded in and I actually flinched at the sight of it momentarily, blinking back the momentary blindness. I watched the sunlight paint the room in gold, bouncing off expensive ancient artifacts and decorations that seemed to glitter and dance in the light.

I inhaled the warm dry scent of the deserts, the chlorine of the pool down below and the faint sent of the horse stables. Even from here, I could see the four horses beating their hooves against the floors, throwing their heads back and making quite a ruckus. A frown turned my lips down.

They usually only reacted like that when I had visitors.

Cool.

I gave a weary sigh, expecting my father to be the one to drop by again. He made occasional visits, like he felt obligated to give me attention since I was the only one of his children who didn’t live in his domain of Hell.

There were seven of us.

The eldest was Jaques, now married and on leave from my father’s personal guard to tend to his wife, Niya, as they were expecting their third child any day now.

I was the second eldest, Guardian of Purgatory. After much debate during a meeting with the United Pantheons, a group of representatives from each pantheon, it was decided that I could be mostly trusted enough with the duty of ensuring souls were given their second chance and then carted off to their proper resting place for all eternity.

After me came the twins, Bali and Wednesday. And yes, Wednesday was named after the chick from the Addams’ Family. They were the only two of us who’d spent most of their childhood in the mortal realm, before their mother died and Lucifer coaxed them to come live with him. Suffice it to say, they were two of the most dangerous creatures to come across. They ruled the darkest corner of Hell, reserved for the especially sinful critters.

Raven was after them. He led Lucifer’s royal guards, the guardians of Hell, so to speak. And you probably know that lovely bunch as the Seven Deadly Sins. It was his job to keep them in line and to keep the Gates of Hell from being breached by any unexpected visitors. He compared his co-workers to a room full of kindergarteners on crack. Poor guy.

Dania was after him, a petite little woman with a vicious appetite for demon flesh. She was a bit on the wild side and hated being touched. She was generally in charge of security in Hell, as well as a representative of our father at the United Pantheon meetings.

Alaric was the youngest of us. Lucifer babied him like no other, keeping him by his side as his personal guard. Alaric tried to be super serious and dangerous, but he had a weak spot for sweets and couldn’t handle his alcohol well. He also had a short fuse when it came to his job and being treated as the youngest.

A dysfunctional family that should never, ever get together for the holidays, or at all for that matter. While Lucifer had strictly forbidden us from attacking each other or anyone else without his orders, that didn’t stop us from causing mayhem when we felt wronged. Lucifer was the kind of parent who tried to ignore us when we misbehaved and prayed it worked.

I left my office and stepped out into the hallway. A hallway that was more like a balcony, because several feet from the walls was a large opening that looked down into the main lobby of my home. Across from where I stood was a large window that looked out at the front yard, stones stretched out a good half mile before reaching the Gates of Purgatory. Beautiful black iron designed with the gold symbol of the United Pantheons, a demented mixture of all symbols, holding the doors together as a lock.

But the gates were closed because my father had already entered.

And he wasn’t alone.

A frown creased my brow as I ran my hand along the railing. A flow of irritation went through my veins at the idea of more than one visitor. Considering my social skills were about as good as a rabid dog’s, I expected nothing good to come of this. And judging from the fissure of power that flooded through my realm, he’d brought gods with him and the thought of having foreigners on my soil made my skin crawl.

I turned and held my hand out, revealing a gold ring with a ruby stone at the center with a black slit through the center so it looked like an eye.

“Remi, get your ass out here.” I commanded. A moment later, a spiral of black smoke curled into the air from the ring and twirled through the air before landing in front of me. The smoke coiled itself together and became the shape of a man. Slender and lithe with the form of a dancer and skin warmed by the touch of sun, hair as black as night and eyes as blue as sapphires, Remi was one of the shape-shifters of purgatory, and the only soul I’d ever enslaved. He’d been given to me by my sister, Dania, as a gift after her visit to the United States on the mortal plane. A Cajun shape-shifter with an attitude as spicy as their food, he was the only person I communicated with and he generally resided in the nearby desert town of lost souls and shape-shifters, but now I felt it was a good time to have him around to entertain my guests. He wore fingerless black gloves, a thin dark cropped cloak with a hood that was down over a brown turtleneck and black parachute pants to match his leather laced sandals.

“What happened to please, mon cher? You gonna treat me like a bitch, I’ll act like a bitch.” He added in warning, blue eyes flashing red for a moment before returning to normal, not that his threat frightened me. I was a demigod and he was a shape-shifter. His kind weren’t exactly the most dangerous. Just really annoying.

“We have guests coming,” I said dryly, “I’ll need you to do a little entertaining.” Remi looked positively miffed.

“What would you have me do?”

“You could do your Michael Jackson impression.”

“Absolutely not! Those are reserved for ladies only, boss. Next you gonna tell me to dress like a woman and belly dance my way up your pa’s bod, ain’t no way this boy goin’ anywhere near that.”

“Trust me,” I responded, walking past him for the staircase and making him follow at my heels, “I wouldn’t ask you to embarrass yourself that far. Besides, my father doesn’t like men. The fact that he tolerates women is appalling.” Remi scrunched up his nose at that, then scowled as we made our way to the front door. He reached back and pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head.

“Ew, I smell Greek.” He hissed. I frowned at that. Greek? Oh, Jesus Christ in Heaven above. You must be joking. I said nothing, just made a gesture for Remi to remain silent until I gave him permission to speak, to which he replied by sticking his tongue out. I ignored him and led the way to the center of my drive. I didn’t have a car, just a lot of horses, and by a lot, I meant four. Four very nice horses that were better conversation than the dysfunctional shape-shifter that was sniffing the air like an irritated dog.

Sure enough, Lucifer was approaching. He never carried himself like a pompous ass. He walked with the grace of an angel, head held high and blonde curls flipping in the desert wind, with blue eyes that shown in the sunlight, like glinting blades. As pacifistic as Lucifer appeared, he could become violent when he wanted to be, which explained why he was no longer apart of God’s entourage. He wasn’t dressed for the desert either, which meant he didn’t plan to stay more than a few hours. White jeans and a white leather jacket that clipped at the throat, boots that clicked on the pathway as he moved.

And ever the dutiful soldier, my baby brother, Alaric was on his left-hand side. He wasn’t incredibly tall, pretty average, and made of lean muscles. Light brown hair with blonde highlights laced through the silken waves that fell just above his shoulders, his eyes like hazel nuts. He also wasn’t dressed for the climate here. A padded black jumpsuit under a tight leather vest, tall buckled boots, a holster decorated with weaponry of all kinds, and a bow hung over his shoulder with his quiver strapped tightly to his back.

My eyes drifted to the two men who should have been strangers, but I wasn’t stupid.

I recognized the Greek god of the Underworld, Hades. Freakishly tall with long flowing black hair like spilled pen ink fell over his shoulders, where a long cloak was pinned to the shoulders of his snug black steel armor that glinted dangerously in the desert sunlight.

But he wasn’t the one who had captured my attention.

It was the drop-dead gorgeous man at his side. Almost an exact copy for Hades with black hair and blue eyes, he was a sight to behold. He was just a couple inches shorter than his father, his hair also a bit shorter and hovering just above his shoulders. His eyes glowed the same iridescent blue as his father’s, but there was something hiding in the depths of blue there. He wore the same form-fitting black steel armor as his father, but instead of a black cape like his father, this man’s was gold.

No, not man.

God.

This person was a god, a son of Hades.

Ambrosius, the youngest son of Hades.

My body reacted to him in a way that hadn’t happened to me in an incredibly long time. Even with that armor on, I could easily imagine the shapely form beneath it. He was muscular, young, and fresh. I found myself longing to sink my hand into his hair, yanking his head back and having a sweet taste of his corded throat, and those lips... full and ripe for kissing. I wanted to kiss them so hard they were bruised. The sudden shock of intense lust and arousal stunned me into silence, so much so that I hadn’t even noticed Lucifer take a step forward to hug me before touching his cheek to both of mine in a greeting only my family did to one another.

“Thorn,” Lucifer greeted, apparently not noticing my stunned state, “You look well. I’m glad.” I inclined my head to him in silence, struggling not to look back at Ambrosius. His expression was stoic, the true face of a well-trained soldier... and I wanted to break it. I wanted to see those dark brows twist, those lips part and tongue hang out like a dog in heat.

Jesus Christ, I needed to get laid.

“Remi.” Lucifer said, nodding to Remi, who by law was forced to bow his head and I knew it killed him inside. Remi hated my father... and it was because Lucifer had been the one to seal Remi into eternal slavery, his soul bound to the ring fitted on my left ring finger.

“To what do I owe this visit?” I asked at last, finding my voice.

“Hades comes to make a bit of a bargain that involves the realm of purgatory... We’re thinking of allowing pagan souls to pass through these gates.” Lucifer added, meeting my gaze squarely, as if he were testing me to speak my displeasure at the idea aloud, but I held my tongue. I wasn’t stupid enough to bash Hades in front of him, though tempting as it may be. It continued to churn my stomach at the idea of letting pagan souls through here.

Not because they were pagan, but damn it all, I had enough paperwork preventing me from having an actual life as it was. I would like to have, I don’t know, maybe two hours to myself. At least long enough to find a whore somewhere.

My body ached with an unquenchable fire, and each glance at Ambrosius out the corner of my eye burned right to my groin, like a cattle prod standing up against the inside of my loose pants.

Hades appeared incredibly nonchalant, something that mildly bothered me, but I’d heard plenty of stories of this god. Like most gods, he was selfish and foolish and greedy. He also wasn’t great with kids. And considering his sons were involved with the near apocalyptic destruction some years ago, I was inclined to believe those stories.

“It’d be nice to be a little more organized,” Hades said at last, his eyes scanning the terrain in obvious displeasure, “Especially with my sons slacking off.” I saw the corner of Ambrosius’s mouth twitch, something that lured my gaze to him again and this time, our eyes met for a brief moment. A brief moment that sent chills through me, and fantasizes of seeing him dressed in only gold jewelry cut through me. The gold would look exotic against his olive skin and dark hair, setting off those blue eyes to an intensity that would make my heart burst.

“Are you going to invite us in?” Lucifer asked. He was only asking out of politeness. He could just march right past me and barge into my home. He’d done it before. I simply gave him a nod and led the way into my mansion with Remi walking at my side the entire way, making faces at me. He picked up on my emotions right away, the perceptive bastard, so I gave him a warning glare that threatened to geld him if he continued his strange behavior, so he finally relaxed and walked placidly.

“Nice place,” Hades said after a short whistle, “Air conditioning must be expensive.”

“When you’re a god, nothing is too expensive.” I responded. A smirk curled the corner of the Greek’s lips.

“I like you.” He commented. And judging from the short moment of surprise that flitted across Ambrosius’s face, I could tell that was a rare compliment, so I gave Hades a nod of thanks before I led them up the stairs and down the hall to my office, letting them in first. I hung back, merely so I could watch Ambrosius from behind as he walked with a soldier’s rigid march, one that surely had been beaten into his skull by father dear.

But damn did that armor look good on him.

“Do you judge souls here or at the gates?” Hades asked, not looking at me as he went to look out the window at the courtyard so he could admire the large pool there. Lucifer came to stand by my desk, his eyes watching me and almost daring me to screw up this meeting. He rarely threatened me, but obviously this meeting was important to him. I decided to play their game.

“At the gates, Lord Hades. There they are judged before I send them to proper place.” I informed and Hades turned to make a face at me.

“Just call me Hades. And you don’t have to look so stern. You’re weirding me out.” He drawled, then paused to glare at something behind me and I followed his eyes to Ambrosius, who was staring with obvious fascination at my collection of samurai swords given to me by Dania.

“Where did you find these?” Ambrosius asked. A shudder of pleasure went through me at the sound of his voice. Deep and masculine and heavy with a Greek accent that made my cock weep for him to speak again.

“My sister, Dania, fetched them for me at her last visit in Yomi.” I informed. The Japanese underworld being Yomi, and last literally being Dania’s last visit. Izanami-no-Mikoto, or just Izanami, threw a huge hissy fit when Dania broke in and killed a bunch of her men, then ran off with their swords. Suffice it to say, Izanami put the hit out on Dania until Lucifer placated the goddess with the head of one of her enemies. And Dania still flaunted the fact that she escaped the place unscathed-- mostly. She returned with a small scar under her right eye. She used it as an excuse to jump on me and yell “Simba” as a joke from her favorite Disney movie, The Lion King.

And yes, my psychotic baby sister very much enjoyed Disney movies for reasons unbeknownst to the rest of the world.

“They’re incredible.” Ambrosius responded and another shiver of pleasure went through me.

Take your armor off and let me fuck you against the wall beside them.

“Ambrosius, heel.” Hades deadpanned. Ambrosius instantly lost his fascination with the swords and returned to his rigid stance from before, hands clasped behind his back and head held up. Hades looked away from him to frown at me.

“How big is this place? Think you can take on a little extra load of poor unfortunate souls?” He asked dryly.

Abso-fucking-lutely... not.

“Endless,” I answered, “Purgatory is forever. A soul is sent here at the time of death and are given a number of challenges before they are sent to their proper resting place. The final test is at the gates. Should they fail, they will go to Hell. Should they pass, they receive repentance.”

“And if I send my believers here?”

“They took will be tested. They can go to Tartarus or your Elysium, or Fields of Asphodel. I just need to know what earns them the right to enter which domain.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Hades spoke after a moment, drumming his fingers against his bottom lip thoughtfully and I saw Lucifer’s eyes follow Hades hopefully as he stalked around my office, “I’m thinking of doing a trial period sort of thing.”

“Trial period?” I asked, this time my voice dry and uninterested. Lucifer stepped forward to take over, as if he owned purgatory himself. I suppose the meeting where we discussed my reign over the realm was just a dream, I thought bitterly.

“A trial period sounds perfect,” Lucifer agreed, “You can have your Thanatos send the first batch of souls for a month and then see how things work. If you are dissatisfied, we will let the whole thing go.” Hades considered this, then nodded.

“A month sounds good,” He said, “I can leave Ambrosius here to watch over things and see how they work. He’ll report to me each week before I return.” Lucifer nodded, and my heart skipped a beat. I didn’t know what to say, except nod my head. I glanced over at Ambrosius, who still managed to remain completely stoic, save for a glitter of irritation in those blue orbs.

“Think you can handle that?” Hades asked Ambrosius, almost like he was mocking him. Ambrosius held his breath for a second, like he wasn’t sure how to respond, then gave a nod. Hades seemed satisfied by that response.

“Excellent,” Lucifer breathed in relief, then turned to me, “Thorn, take Ambrosius with you on all of your rounds and file reports with him so as not to leave out any details.” I just nodded. Lucifer smiled at that before moving to Hades, who began a short rant about not being able to hire good help these days while Lucifer pretended he agreed and enjoyed Hades’s company, which pleased the Greek to no end.

“Great,” Alaric said, coming to stand beside me as Ambrosius left the office and followed his father out like a dutiful puppy, “As if sinful souls weren’t bad enough, now you have a Greek stalking you.”

“Better not be referring to me, mon cher, because I have a can of Cajun whoop ass waiting to be opened.” Remi told him flatly. Alaric raked with a disgusted sneer before looking at me.

“You really need to put a muzzle on your slave, brother.” He told me sternly. I shrugged, glancing at Remi, who scowled at Alaric.

“He amuses me. I can’t bring myself to do such a thing.” I admitted. Alaric made a sound of displeasure before leaving the room to go after my father. I smirked after him and Remi placed his fists on his hips and did a little wiggle.

“Look at him, walkin’ like he’s tough shit. I’d like to see him actually fight instead of having daddy hold his hand,” He scoffed, then folded his arms over his chest, “Can I turn into a dragon and scorch his butt? Just once.”

“If I let you do that, he’d go crying to Lucifer about it.”

“But so worth it.”

“Not when my life’s on the line,” I snorted and Remi paused to shrug and nod at the same time as if he was admitting defeat, “And now I need you to go prep a room for Ambrosius... the one just down the hall from mine.” Remi’s eyebrows rose and he pursed his lips, studying me for a moment before holding his hands up in defense when I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Yeh, yeh. I get it. Just don’t get why I gotta get in the middle of your gross sex thing. Like, what happened to chicks, man? Chicks before dicks.”

“Remi, if you don’t leave right now, I’m going to feed your entrails to the horses.”

“Buttercup would never do such a thing!”

“She will if I bake it into a giant sugar cube.”

“You’re a cruel dude, boss. Cruel. Turnin’ a horse on her man. It’s, like, hardcore betrayal. I would think of an example, but you’re giving me that creepy brain-spilling glare, so I’m gonna go get your man’s room ready.” With that being said, Remi vanished from my office. I waited a moment before leaving the office and descending down the stairs where Lucifer and Alaric were in the lobby. They had left Hades and Ambrosius alone, in the hallway that led to the back of the house where the large crescent-shaped kitchen was. And I slowed my steps as I listened in on their conversation.

“Do not ruin this,” Hades was telling Ambrosius in a voice so cold it’d freeze purgatory, “I’ve worked too hard to become allies with Lucifer. He’s doing this for us and we’re doing him a favor in return, do you understand me? You do everything Thorn requests. If I find out you pissed him, or Lucifer off, you know exactly what will happen.” I frowned, watching Ambrosius’s jaw tighten to the point where a vein throbbed, but instead of snapping back at his father, Ambrosius just nodded stiffly. Hades seemed content with that, then surprised me when he pulled Ambrosius into a tight embrace that spoke intensely of Hades’s affection for his son.

Without another word, Hades pushed Ambrosius back and walked right past me in the hallway, ignoring my existence almost entirely. I frowned, stepping back to watch him go. The air beside me rippled and Remi appeared there, watching Hades leave with my father and brother.

“Wow,” Remi whistled, eyes widening for a moment before returning to normal, “He’s so fuckin’ cuddly. Like Jeffrey Dahmer cuddly. I bet you he hides little gay Asian boys in his closet too.” I cut him a glare that made him look away innocently before I turned to see Ambrosius standing in the archway, staring at us. Or rather, more specifically, Remi, who paled.

“Ohhh,” Remi said slowly, pushing up the sleeve to reveal his naked wrist, “Look at the time! I have that thing to do in some place that is not here. Adyeu.” He twirled into a thick stream of black smoke and sucked himself back into the ring. I watched him go, then looked up at him to see him frowning.

“What is that?” He asked, staring at my ring.

“A birthday gift,” I answered briefly, because as much as I loved this fine piece of Greek in front of me, I didn’t trust him for a second, “Unfortunately, you will be seeing more of him as he is my only servant.” Ambrosius looked aghast.

“You don’t have anyone else working here?”

“Of course not,” I replied, “Servants irritate me. People irritate me. They’re like mosquitoes.” Ambrosius considered that, but said nothing as I gestured for him to follow me.

“Come,” I said, “I had Remi prepare a room with you and a wardrobe complete with clothing that should fit you the moment you wear it.”

“Clothing?” Ambrosius asked curiously. I thanked the gods he was walking at my back and not beside me to see my lecherous smirk.

“You can’t wear armor in the desert, little god.” I said. Surprisingly, Ambrosius didn’t take offense to that, and if he did, he didn’t show it.

One month, I told myself as we made our way up the stairs.

I had one month to get this delectable treat into my bed and writhing in my sheets before daddy came to pick him up.

This was going to be the best month of my life.