Mistress of Redemption (30 page)

feel of rain pounding on his skin.

Dona had broken him down, broken

him open. With this Being’s power

pouring into those raw wounds, truth

came bubbling up like pus out of an

infection. It was pathetic, a cliché. It

wasn’t that he hadn’t always known

it. It was the difference between

hearing and knowing.

He knew what Dona’s husband had

thrown away, because he’d thrown it

away a dozen times. But for the first

time he felt the actual weight of all

the things he’d been offered and

spurned. A weight that had grown so

gradually over time he hadn’t

realized everything he thought he was

had been disintegrating beneath the

tonnage, damaged beyond even

Dona’s ability to repair.

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Joey W. Hill

In the depths of his heart, he still

believed women were evil. They had

a power in them to make a man love

them so much, but they would turn on

him, use his love against him. Every

time Dona had given him some slack,

it had reared its head in him again,

the need to teach them how it felt, his

own brand of karmic justice.

Rejecting every woman just as she

gave him her love. Always wishing

he could find his mother, do it to her.

As if the vicious bitch had love to

give. He would have done anything to

keep her love. To not be abandoned

to the demonic creatures that had

masqueraded as his foster mothers.

He closed his eyes, bowed his head.

Look in the mirror. Look behind

your mother and what do you see?

What do you see,
Nathan?

As an unloved and unwanted child,

he’d started spinning those mirrors

early. Now he was a man unworthy

of a woman’s love, a creation of his

own making, full of anger and

bitterness that he’d coated in charm

and deception. All he wanted was for

one woman to prove him wrong. To

tear away all his weapons and

shields, beat him to his knees before

her, prove to him that he had no need

of weapons or shields. Not with her.

But she had done it, hadn’t she? Dona

had done it. She could force him to

trust, because he couldn’t make the

choice himself.

“Life has to be about that choice, or it

isn’t earned.”

A new energy, like the Lord before

him, but different. Different and yet

together.

He’d felt hints of both of Them in

Dona’s light. In that one touch, that

one soft sentence, he crumbled to the

rock, weeping. For now he felt a

Mother’s love, felt it as it was meant

to be. Unconditional. Forgiving, even

while administering justice. Always

there.

Never to be doubted. He’d never

needed to doubt Her. She was Dona

and every woman who’d let Light

into their souls to love a man with all

they had. All he’d ever wanted was

to love a woman unconditionally,

freely, and receive this gift in return.

So that he’d never know loneliness

and abandonment again.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” Her touch along his body

was warm and simple, like a blanket.

“You have to find the courage to

make the choice. You belong

together. She needs you, maybe even

more than you need her.”

He didn’t have that kind of courage.

He knew he didn’t. Like a man with a

terminal disease, only of the mind

instead of the body, he knew where

he would fail.

If he destroyed Dona, he knew

without being told he’d damn himself

forever. There were things that were

beyond unforgivable. Meaning

unfixable, and destroying one half of

yourself, the best half, would

certainly fall in that category.

“Find the quiet place in yourself, the

center. Let down all your shields and

simply be. Accept what is. To pay

for your transgressions, you have to

be willing to accept that payment

will be made. You have to forgive

yourself.”

He thought of the tree where he’d

hidden his treasures, thought of laying

down a carpet of soft pine needles

for Dona there. Her fingers would

caress his head, his ears 118

Mistress of Redemption

and jaw, pressing him down between

her legs to make him service her. The

trees above would be layers of blues

and green like Eden, the peace of

nature all around. With the passion

he’d bring the peace. Part of him

acting as a lover, suckling her cunt,

the other part of him like a son

worshipping at the Mother’s womb,

both aspects bringing fulfillment.

The fire-like glow and the feel of the

cold stone returned. He was there

with just Lucifer, the Lady’s presence

like a lullaby fading as he woke from

sleep. Nathan pushed himself to his

hands and knees, breathing deeply,

hearing a silence in himself he’d

never heard. A place of quiet,

terrible truth.

“I have to go to Hell, don’t I?”

“I think so, yes.” Lucifer answered

him. “But that is your choice. You

have performed well enough in

Redemption to earn the right to

another body.”

A body with a soul still infected with

enough corruption that he could

simply end up here again. He could

feel the darkness in him, confused but

waiting to reorganize as soon as

doubt, guilt and rage crept in.

“The time in Hell will be bad. You

will pay through direct punishment

for all that you’ve done to others. It

will be far more than the pain you’ve

suffered thus far. There is much of

Jonathan in you still, so getting rid of

his influence will not be pleasant. It

will be agony.”

Despair and pain knocked him back

to the cold stone. It was every bad,

anxious feeling he’d ever had

magnified a thousand times, fears and

terrors of the night he couldn’t even

imagine crowding in on him. He

thrashed, struck out. Abruptly he was

back on the cold stone, huddled in a

fetal ball, sick to his stomach but

unable to retch.

Lucifer regarded him with a

dispassionate eye. “That was barely

a tenth of what you will feel and I

gave it to you for a blink of time. Do

you still wish to undertake this

course?”

Nathan managed to respond, his

voice hoarse. “If I go to Hell, will

she be safe from me?”

“Safer than if you don’t.”

He had his answer.
She needs you.

“How long in Hell…” Nathan forced

his lips to ask the question.

“As long as I deem necessary. You

won’t know how long. Only when it

begins and when it is over.”

“When it’s over…Dona? How

long…?”

For the first time, Lucifer hesitated.

“The soul has no memory of its mate

after Hell.

Not at first. You won’t remember

her. Not for a long time.”

It was an effort like lifting the weight

of the world, but he put one foot back

beneath him, then the other. Stood up.

“We’ll still be soul mates?”

“It may be many lives before you

recognize her as such. But, yes.”

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Joey W. Hill

Surely time could be folded here, a

thousand years to one minute on

Earth. Science fiction
couldn’t be
that far off from the truth.

As Lucifer considered him, Nathan

knew that the Being wasn’t likely to

respond well to such a persuasion.

He thought hard, aching, needing her

now. “May I keep her marks?” He

directed his gaze to his piercings.

“Can I have the compulsion to put

them on myself when I’m older? To

help me remember her?”

“It will not help.”

“So what’s the harm?”

He felt a blast of heat and sulfur that

made his knees tremble. He locked

them, tried to at least stay steady

even if he couldn’t meet the powerful

Being’s gaze.

“You’re as stubborn as she is.”

Lucifer snorted. “Fine.”

Pain could clarify as well as heal.

Didn’t a submissive know that better

than anyone? Nathan tried to focus on

what he knew instead of the fear, the

realization he was about to do

something which was far over his

head, the knowledge of it reflected in

those powerful eyes. What was

important was what would best serve

his Mistress.

Bring him to her side more quickly.

She needed him. The Lady had said

so.

“So I’m guaranteed nothing.” He said

it without censure.

“Nothing, except the path itself.”

There was a hint of sympathy in

Lucifer’s voice.

“That the journey continues until it’s

done.”

“I’ll know her.” Nathan remembered

that kiss, held it to him like his own

beating heart. “She knows me. She

looks at me and doesn’t see a mirror.

She sees me.”

She sees who I’ve been, who I am.

More than that, more than the

punishment or anything else, there

was one thing that made him sure that

he’d remember her.

She had faith in him, in who he could

be. No one, not even himself, had

ever given him that before. Since his

brave, beautiful Mistress had never

intended to have faith in a man again,

that meant there had to be something

worth loving in him. Had to be.

Everything flashed through his mind.

When he got into the car. When he

faced down the leopard. When he

took all of Dona’s punishments and

yet still desired her.

When he turned as he did now, to

face that red glow and all the terrible

things it represented.

You’re not weak… I have faith in

you…

“I’ll know her anywhere, in any form.

I won’t lose her again. I won’t lose

myself again. She found me. She’s my

compass.”

Lucifer inclined His head. “Noble

sentiments. Are you strong enough to

live up to them?”

Nathan began to move, the agony

growing in his chest as he moved

forward, as if the chasm returned all

pains past and present. The pain of

the piercings was suddenly there too,

a gift. He didn’t know if it came from

Lucifer, the Lady, or Dona herself,

but he held that particular pain to him

like a promise. Not giving himself

time to think, he 120

Mistress of Redemption

broke into a run, moving toward that

red glow, toward the promise of

Dona that would wait on the other

side. Toward his choice.

Dona…

He gave a fierce yell, defiant, let it

echo out over the chasm and come

back to him, blast him with heat.

Gathering himself for the charge, he

leaped out over the void.

Gravity snatched him, spinning him

downward toward flames. As he fell,

he could see the shadows upon

shadows in the fire, waiting for him.

He had survived the abandonment of

his mother, the cold hatred and

indifference of his foster mothers.

He’d killed a woman with his cruelty

and taken away the hopes and dreams

of countless others. Through some

miracle, he’d gotten Dona as his soul

mate. He’d found his only hope for

salvation in Hell. The irony was not

lost on him.

There was someone out there whose

soul was connected to his. That

meant he would never be alone, that

someone needed him as much as he

needed her. He could survive this.

He would. He’d remember her. Or be

damned to Hell forever, no matter

where he ended up. His mouth

opened on a scream as the fire

swallowed him up, the shadows

taking him eagerly.

* * * * *

Show mercy, love.

“Did he show mercy to the women in

his life, those he used to exorcise his

own pain, futilely? How about Eliza?

He must pay for his crimes, my lady.

You would show mercy to all of

them.”

“I would.” She looked fondly down

at the image of the blue planet She

held in Her palm, but there was

sadness in Her gaze as well.
They

make things so difficult for

themselves.

He reached out, for He couldn’t bear

Her sadness, and touched Her spirit.

“It will all be well, my lady. He is

strong, stronger than I first believed.

The soul chooses its own justice,

knows what it must pay to earn what

it most desires. He will be all right.”

“Perhaps we could choose a different

way this time. Something that would

be best for them both… After all, he

is right. We can fold time, go back,

change the way the world turns,

rearrange the chess pieces…if it be

for the highest good.”

“You are a plague to me, my Lady.”