Saved By Her (Soul Searchers Book 1) Read online

  Saved By Her

  Soul Searchers - Book 1

  BE Brouillard

  Copyright © 2020 BE Brouillard

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  To contact the author: [email protected]

  Cover design by: Beetiful Book Covers

  Copy Editor: KR

  Proofreader: Alexandra Page

  To Charlene, who did it her way, and inspired me to do it mine.

  And to the Bubble Buddies, who plied me with champagne, inspiration and laughter. A little piece of each of you is soaked into every wicked word.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  IN The Beginning

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Preview: Book 2

  About The Author

  Prologue

  On the far side of the world, exists a celestial island that appeared when Satan’s fall from Heaven created Hell. This island is home to the Mountain of Purgatory – a towering structure of multiple layers, each corresponding to one of the seven deadly sins – Wrath, Envy, Pride, Sloth, Lust, Gluttony and Greed. Here reside the souls of those men and women whose crimes on earth should have damned them to an eternity of hellfire, had they not shown some shred of remorse – a glimmer of hope that they could be saved.

  Recognized by humankind only in their dreams, they have gone by many names – incubus, succubus, phantasm, hobgoblin…demon lover – through history, they’ve been acknowledged with fear for their ability to seduce even the most pious spirits, to drive them into frenzies of desire. But there is more to their story. More to know about these restless souls. Some have existed in this realm for thousands of years, slowly learning what is necessary for repentance. Others find their answers more quickly, but each has a unique journey to reach the final goal: the ability to give and receive pure love.

  IN The Beginning

  All was black…and then not. A blinding flash of light tore through the darkness, splitting the sky in two. From the torn edges tumbled a form – a twisting, tumbling, plummeting figure that spun through the air at blistering speed. As the figure hit the earth, a mighty shudder rumbled through the air, a groan so deep and resonant it seemed to have a shape of its own. The form shifted, moved, stood.

  A man.

  Not a man.

  Silvery muscle and sinew uncurled into a towering shape, lean limbs, taut, glistening skin that flickered in the shadows thrown by the glowing wings that unfurled behind its…his shoulders. He raised his arms, flexed.

  “Lucifer…”

  He tilted his head towards the sound, the crisp line of his jaw met by cheekbones that must certainly have been sketched by a master. His eyes glowed.

  “Lucifer!” The voice seemed to swirl around him in a glittering mist that shivered and glowed, almost brushed his steaming skin.

  “What?” he snapped, his voice melodic despite the tone of insolence, shifting and murmuring and rich with beautiful shimmering base notes.

  “You’re out. Banished. You and your unholy tribe may never return,” the voice spoke again. Lucifer hated that voice, so full of promises…broken promises. Unfulfilled dreams. He felt bile rise.

  “Fuck you! There is nothing in your realm that we want!” he snarled back, feeling his lip curl. The feathers behind him seemed to sizzle and steam in time with his rage. Their unearthly glow was beginning to dull, to darken. He set his bare feet astride, hands back at his sides, curling and balling into fists as if preparing to do battle against the voice that swirled around him.

  “You will regret it, Lucifer,” the voice intoned.

  “Never!” he spat back. “The regret will be yours!” A sound rushed around him, like the collective gasp of a thousand angels…now, devils. His tribe. His family. His unholy horde. He inhaled the stench of sizzling skin, knew that if he glanced down, he’d see himself glowing, feathers blackening.

  “You think it is just me you have lost? Just these few miserable wretches?” He swept an arm behind him, then laughed, the sound still powerfully beautiful, even as he felt the tendons within him begin to lose their grace.

  “I will take them all! Every one of your precious souls will be mine. I’ll draw them in and suck them dry…and they will be powerless to resist me because you created them flawed. You and your arrogance…granting them free will because you believed they would automatically turn to you. They will succumb to their base desires and they will come to me!”

  A chuckle churned the air. “Perhaps, Lucifer. And perhaps not. They are not as base as you believe. I gave them choice so that their souls would be that much sweeter when they finally saw the light.”

  “My light!” Lucifer snapped back, his charred wings furling and unfurling in agitation. His great chest heaved, the beautiful curving lines of his breast shimmering as a smattering of red scales rippled beneath the surface. “They will come to my light because I will promise them all of the pleasures that you will withhold.”

  With his words, the crowd that had grown behind him murmured and shifted…parted as a presence emerged. As if from nowhere, a hand slid up his flank, another splayed over his ribs. Pale, feminine fingers, their daintiness enhanced by the rippling muscles of his abdomen. He rose to his full height, every inch of him hard, erect.

  “Lilith…” He instinctively knew her name, recognized her face, her scent, knew every one of her dark delights. A corner of his beautiful mouth curled up, and he grinned, wrapping his fingers around one slender wrist and drawing her around to stand before him. Her body glowed like moonlight; he drew a fingertip beneath her chin to raise her face to look up at him. Her dark eyes met his glowing ones, unflinching. Waves of pure gold tumbled over her shoulders, down her back. She licked her lips…his grin broadened. “Oh, how lovely you are, little one,” he murmured. The hordes behind him shifted as the air crackled.

  “Lovely…” she echoed, eyes glued to his face, transfixed by the impossible beauty of his features.

  A sense of rage seemed to shimmer in the silvery mist.

  “Lucifer…” the voice held a warning, and he tossed his head.

  “Why do you try to stop me?” he snapped. “Why deny any of us these pleasures?” He swept a hand down her heaving torso. “Why create so much potential for delight and then withhold it?”

  “Because it is sweeter when it is earned,” the voice replied. Lucifer snarled, his mouth twisting with the sound.

  “You are perverse,” he spat. “The ultimate egomaniac!”

  “I am what I am,” was the enigmatic response.

  “And you wonder why you are losing us.” Lucifer snorted in d
isgust, then lowered his head and brushed his lips over the soft mouth raised so expectantly towards him. His tongue flicked out, snakelike, and she gasped, his hand curled around the back of her neck to draw her closer. Their bodies touched, her chest pressed against his. He felt the soft curves of her bare breasts, nipples poking hard. As he plundered her mouth, he raised a hand to cup a lush mound, the sharpening points of his nails raking faint lines into her flesh. She mewled and pressed herself closer, thighs parting as she pressed her sex up against his. He pushed a muscular thigh between hers, slid his hand behind her buttocks, kneading soft flesh as she pushed up against him.

  He lifted his head, stared into the mist. “Do you see my welcoming committee, oh lord?” he smirked. “My feet have barely touched this soil, and they arrive, legs spread.”

  The mist swirled as the voice rumbled through it. “You are right, Lucifer, you have only just arrived, and already you have defiled this place. I won’t allow you the same liberties elsewhere. Only here, in this place of Purgatory, will they wait for you…and even then, perhaps you will still lose them if they choose better.”

  Lucifer snorted again, the sound more beast than man, and then in one swift move, he hefted the woman up, felt her knees hook over his hips, ankles clasp behind his ass. He arched his back, pushed his length against her, then groaned as her folds spread open and he slid in.

  “Yessss,” he hissed, the sibilant sound barely recognizable as his own voice. The hands that roved over her writhing body didn’t look like his own, gnarled talons tipped with ragged claws. She wailed and bucked as she rode him, his beastlike body hunched at her entrance, tongue trailing silver streaks over her throat and chest. As her gyrations grew wilder, he felt his own pleasure rise, and he roared, a jet of red-hot light spurting into the juncture of their bodies. She screamed and arched back, for an instant trusting him to hold her body aloft. He turned abruptly and dropped her unceremoniously onto a nearby ledge, still buried deep. He licked his lips, wiped the sweat from his face with his forearm as he stared up again at the cloud surrounding him.

  “You will only win the purest of them,” he sneered. “The rest will come to you through this place,” he glanced to where rocks and clouds were swirling and shifting into shapes around them, then back at the writhing woman, “and she will be one of an unholy council who will guide those souls to you.” He stepped back, extracting himself from her clinging body, brushing aside her reaching hands.

  “Back down, Lucifer,” the voice held an edge of rage but remained clear. “All but the most vile will have a chance of redemption. And those who do not…well, you’re welcome to them.”

  ***

  Lilith gave a heaving shudder. Those moments were acid-burned into her memory. The horror, the pleasure…the realization that she had been there at the start of it all.

  His unholy concubine.

  The ages that followed had seen a steady transformation in the rocky crags and swirling mists that had ultimately formed the world she now knew as home. Purgatory. After her, had come others. Murderers, cheats, philanderers, liars, thieves, and whores. Her comrades were as unworthy of admiration as she was…yet their names hung in history as some of the most notable characters of all time. Cain, Jezebel, Arawn, Salazar, Imentet, Cato, Marcia, Azazel, and, inexplicably, the muse, Calliope. Each had joined her over time to form an odd association they’d come to call the Council, tasked with guiding lost souls toward their final destinations.

  She couldn’t remember a time she hadn’t been aware of the debt she would need to repay to save her soul from the eternal fires that awaited her. Bride of Satan. A marriage consummated in hell. Lucifer’s lover… Her skin prickled at the thought. At the discomforting arousal that she’d never managed to completely quell at the memory of him. Sometimes she could hear his voice whispering to her. Vile words, twisted endearments that left her shuddering with revulsion…and lust.

  “Lilith…Lilith, do you miss me?” she could hear him now, mocking her.

  It was hardly a surprise that he and his holy counterpart – their Creator – had chosen to endow the denizens of Purgatory with the gift – and curse – of being able to bring ecstasy to the innocent souls who would be their only chance at redemption.

  Succubus.

  Incubus.

  They were sex demons. That was the simple explanation. Nightmare lovers who visited in dreams and delivered unspeakable pleasures to their ‘victims’, draining their life energy as they did so. She’d never figured out which of the deities had come up with the idea that a spirit might only earn repentance through absolute sacrifice for one of those hapless souls. To have so much sexual power – and ultimately not be able to use it. She’d watched so many of them spend millennia floundering with the concept. No big surprise there – if the miserable bastards inhabiting Purgatory were worthy to begin with, they’d never have ended up here…as her problem. And her own chances of redemption might have been a little easier because it was her job to pick out the ones who might dodge the next trip to hell.

  “How many of them will I have to save before I earn my ticket out of here?” she muttered to herself. God only knew. Literally.

  She rubbed her eyes…or imagined that’s what she would be doing if she had a physical form. Even after millennia of existing in the spirit realm, she still clung to her human traits. Who could blame her, though? She’d been spectacularly beautiful…still was. Her soft curves had driven men mad with lust. Women, too, if she wanted them. But despite her multiple lifetimes of depravity, it was to men she remained drawn. Their strong, hard lines echoing the one who had bewitched her all those eons ago. She felt it as a weakness, would lash out and torment them. A futile vengeance against him, the angel-turned-demon who had damned her to an eternity of self-loathing. Yet, even now, she felt her body stirring at the thought of him. She snorted in annoyance.

  “What is it, Lilith,” a deep, exotic drawl intruded into her musings, “plotting another coup? Or maybe a plague this time? Lord knows we could all use a little variety.” Salazar remained her most steadfast detractor, a tireless competitor in their eternal quest to save souls. He entertained himself by riling her.

  “Fuck off, Salazar,” she snapped, her clipped tone giving the curse an edge of refinement.

  “You two at it again?” a female voice interrupted, almost feline in its silken purr. Jezebel had arrived, the air crackling around her with an energy that was almost electric in its intensity. Of all the wanton temptresses in history, she was the most like Lilith. Her lush sexuality was so strongly rooted it oozed from her. Auburn tresses rolled in waves to the small of her back, tangling with the tassels of the silken harness that barely provided a modicum of modesty. She may as well have been naked.

  Others filtered in now too. Cain, with that perpetual air of desolation Lilith had come to despise, sought a place in the corner, too deeply brooding to join the conversation. Cato and Marcia, hand-in-hand…the Gatekeeper and his consort had taken up residence in Purgatory not long after Lilith saw its vast halls formed.

  “Welcome, friends,” Jezebel purred at the couple, annoying Lilith further. Of all of them, she found their presence here most unsettling. Neither damned nor redeemed, they were satisfied simply to exist in this place, bound forever in their sweet adoration of each other. In her loneliest hours, she found it sickening; her envy ate at her like a cancer. She almost preferred Cain’s dark despair, his black mood at odds with his golden skin and hair. Considering they were able to choose the form they took, it surprised her that he appeared so incandescently beautiful, rather than the grim gargoyle that so clearly lurked in him. Perhaps it was part of his journey of atonement for killing his brother in that garden. Forcing himself to glow brilliantly rather than retreating into the shadows as he so obviously wished to do. The eternal exertion must have sapped him.

  “You’re just in time to watch Lilith and Salazar sparring again,” Jezebel piped up, “I’m not laying odds on Lilith this time! I think her nemesi
s has been on form since he aced that last salvation hattrick.”

  Lilith wanted to hiss. The smug ass hadn’t let her forget he’d picked a string of dark souls and steered them to redemption. It didn’t help that there was something about him… Tall, dark, olive-skinned, and exotic…she hated how compelling she found him. Particularly since he seemed to delight in taunting her.

  “Screwed any good demons lately,” his voice intruded into her thoughts now, as if he knew she’d been thinking of him. Perhaps he did. The souls in their care were utterly open to their mental explorations – what was stopping The Council from a little psychic snooping too?

  “Fuck off, Salazar,” she snapped, inadvertently echoing her previous words and eliciting a quirk of dark brow. She could sense the waves of amusement rolling from him like oil. Anger coiled within her. ‘I hate him most of all!’ she obsessed, biting back the rage that seemed to drive most of her actions. And then stopped, eyelids drooping as she felt the fire leave her.

  Calliope was here.

  Birdsong. Jasmine. Summer breezes.

  The gathering breathed a collective sigh of … satisfaction.

  History may have branded Lilith with the title of temptress, but whoever had attached that term to her had never encountered Calliope. The ultimate temptation, she whispered words of encouragement to surrendered souls, crooned sweet inspirations to men on the brink of death.

  “Friends…” she murmured now, “how wonderful that we’re all here again.”

  Calliope was beauty incarnate. No two souls could describe her in the same words because, for each, she was something else. Today, Lilith saw a butterfly. Enormous, bright, glorious wings fluttering like vast curtains of color. Calliope turned to face her, gaze traveling over every spirit gathered there and convincing each that they were there just for her.