Raphael - Tillie Cole.pdf

RAPHAEL (Deadly Virtues 1) Tillie Cole

Copyright© Tillie Cole 2019 All rights reserved Copyeditied & Proofread by www.kiathomasediting.com Formatted by Stephen Jones Cover Design by Hang Le Ebook Edition No Part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the publisher and author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be uploaded without the permission of the publisher and author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is originally published. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to

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In one yellow string I wound three times her little throat around, And strangled her. No pain felt she; I am quite sure she felt no pain. Porphyria’s Lover By Robert Browning

Table of Contents 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 Epilogue

The Fallen: Genesis (A Deadly Virtues Novella) MUST be read first

Author’s Note The Deadly Virtues series is a dark romance series based on the concept of the Seven Deadly Sins and the Seven Heavenly Virtues, drawing on the contrarian model, which states that each virtue acts as a “cure” or “remedy” to one of the sins. Humility will cure Pride. Kindness will cure Envy. Temperance will cure Gluttony. Chastity will cure Lust. Patience will cure Wrath. Charity will cure Greed. Diligence will cure Sloth.

Raphael (Deadly Virtues Book One) will explore the notion of Chastity curing Lust.

The Ten Commandments of the Fallen 1. Thou shalt not kill an innocent 2. Thou shalt not stray from the Fallen’s righteous path 3. Thou shalt not bring prey back to Eden Manor 4. Thou shalt not kill in Eden Manor 5. Thou shalt not betray, injure, or kill a brother of the Fallen 6. Thou shalt kill only the Chosen 7. Thou shalt not put any other above the Fallen 8. Thou shalt not kill another brother’s prey 9. Thou shalt only kill within the realms of

one’s desire 10. Thou shalt practice self-restraint

Glossary The Fallen: Comprises Gabriel, Raphael, Selaphiel, Barachiel, Jegudiel, Uriel, Michael. Seven men from Holy Innocents; later, Purgatory. Named by the Brethren after the archangels of the Catholic faith in hope that their holy names would inspire redemption. They became the Fallen in reference to their archangel names and their rebellious natures. The Brethren: Sect born from the Catholic Church in Boston, Massachusetts. Exorcises boys of their innate evil, their thirst to kill, through invasive sexual and medieval torture techniques carried on from the Spanish Inquisition.

Holy Innocents Home for Children: Orphanage for boys near Boston. Named in tribute to the boys killed during Herod’s search for Jesus. Purgatory: Secret home on the Holy Innocents grounds. Run by the secret Catholic sect the Brethren. Boys viewed as innately evil are brought there to be “exorcised” of their demons. Eden Manor: The manor house on the outskirts of Boston inherited by Gabriel from his grandfather, billionaire/serial killer Jack Murphy. A secret location, protected by the government. Home to the Fallen. The Tomb: Basement room in Eden where “Revelations” are conducted.

The Nave: Room where the Fallen gather for meals. Dinner each night is mandatory to strengthen the social bonds of the brotherhood. It is a way for Gabriel to assess his brothers and ensure they keep a grip on their humanity. Revelation: Ritual of the Fallen. Ceremony where Gabriel tasks one of the Fallen with a “mission” to kill. The Fallen wear ceremonial robes. The Fallen’s Oath: Taken in the Tomb. Each brother of the Fallen signs a contract in blood with the sacrificial quill, committing themselves to the life of a Fallen and to the Ten Commandments that must be adhered to. Performed by Gabriel. Breakable only by death.

Chapter One Eden Manor, Massachusetts The sound of Gabriel’s Gregorian chant music drifted up the Tomb’s steep, winding stairs. Raphael ran his fingertips along the gray stone walls. They were damp underneath his skin, slick with the stagnant water that trickled in from the overflowing lake outside. Forest-green moss crept in through cracks and fractures in the brick, betraying the manor’s age. With every step he descended into the candlelit darkness, Raphael’s heart began to thunder into a heady velocity. The string that forever sat on his right index finger was so tight he could feel his

pulse throbbing in the very tip. He focused on the rhythm of the beat, on the tightness of the string wrapped around and around and around his flesh. A fire of pleasure broke out in his chest and surged through his veins at the tightness, the suffocation, the hedonistic asphyxiation of the digit. It was a denial of blood, of the life his finger needed to survive, to thrive—to exist. Raphael’s lip kicked up in a smirk. He knew the tip of his finger would be blue, starved of the sustenance it needed to function. He hissed out in pleasure when the fire that vision ignited darted straight to his cock. Raphael didn’t care if his brothers heard him moan out loud. They would be caught in their own heads, their own excitement of possibly getting the kill, to care—they never cared. Raphael felt Michael breathing heavily behind

him, affirming his point. He knew Michael would be stroking the vial of blood around his neck while almost coming in his leather pants at the thought of sinking his sharp teeth into a vein and sucking down the blood. Gabriel told them Michael had something called hematolagnia. He had a word for what he claimed “ailed” all of them. Nothing ailed them. Gabriel just didn’t understand the way the six of them were, the way they had to be, the six of the Fallen who were nothing like Gabriel. They liked to kill. Needed to as much as they needed to breathe. It wasn’t abnormal to them. Blood and flesh and cries of pain inflicted by their hands didn’t bring repulsion, only satisfaction. It was simply who they were. Out of all the brothers, Raphael was closest to

Michael. But right now, each of the brothers was completely alone. The Revelation ceremony brought out the utmost selfishness in them. The chance to bring death consumed them. Controlled them. And Raphael wouldn’t have it any other way. Raphael’s cock grew hard in his jeans at just the thought of taking someone’s last breath. He pushed the heel of his hand against his crotch as the blood rushed to it, but the burst of painful pleasure that spiraled up his spine only made him groan louder. The rubber cage he always wore around his dick constricted his flesh and began to strain, biting into him as the rubber rebelled against his hardening. The BDSM contraption was designed to bring pain. And it was successful; pain it brought. But Raphael didn’t see pain as a punishment. He lived for pain.

The more agony he felt, the more pleasure he felt. He basked in the throttling of his penis, relished the choking of his erection as it tried to break free of the rubber constraints. Raphael lost his footing, his back slamming into the wet wall. He barely even noticed his shirt growing damp as his eyes closed. All Raphael could focus on was the cage’s incessant strangling. His hands curled into fists as the addictive fire ravaged his body. Flashes of his ultimate fantasy poured into his mind, fueling his ecstasy. He was powerless. He couldn’t stop them if he tried. But why would he? It was what inspired him to get out of bed each day, birthed every single breath his lungs inhaled. What he had waited years for, and would wait a lifetime more to capture. Raphael’s breathing became deep

and labored as he imagined the scene—the king- sized bed, the red rose petals thrown on the pure white Egyptian cotton comforter. And her, the one, sprawled out for him on her back, naked, a temptation made true. Her cheeks would be flushed, and her lips would be cherry red. Her skin would be so soft, no blemish in sight, eyes bright and fixed on Raphael, piercing his gaze with nothing but adoration. She would be his, and he would be hers. There would be nobody else for either of them. She would be his one possession that he would have for all of his days. Raphael knew his pupils were dilated beneath his closed lids—oddly colored golden-brown eyes that set him apart from everyone else. His greatest tool, eyes that lured in his victims—meaningless women he would chase for a while, seducing, enticing,

making them enamored with everything he pretended to be . . . before he pillaged their lives, fucking them hard as death collected their souls, releasing into their dying bodies as he consumed their final heartbeat and breath with his unyielding hands. Raphael’s eyes snapped open when he heard the church bell echo around the stone basement— Gabriel’s signal to robe for Revelation. As he descended the final steps, the tight rubber cage around his cock caused pre-cum to leak into his jeans. He lived for the sexual strangulation. He needed it as much as he needed to breathe. Raphael realized he was late. He raced through the wide wooden door of the Tomb. His brothers were already in robes, the heavy hoods covering their heads as they silently awaited his arrival.

Raphael moved to his area of the Tomb to change and slipped on the black robe, tying the waist and lifting the hood over his head. The Gregorian chant drowned out any other sounds in the space. Tall white church candles led the way to a stone altar at the back of the small room, raised a single step higher than the floor. In front of the altar, a robed figure stood facing his brothers. A figure robed in red, standing out among the sea of black—Gabriel. Raphael’s brothers dropped to their knees. Gabriel paused as Raphael took his place, waiting patiently for him to do the same. Raphael took a deep breath as he lowered one knee to the ground. His jaw clenched, everything in his body telling him to refuse the submission. To get to his feet and never bow to anyone or anything ever again. He saw red, his heart pumping boiling-hot blood through his

veins as he tried to get his body to obey. His muscles tensed and his skin felt too tight around his flesh as it fought the subjugation. Raphael tightened the string around his finger and breathed in deeply. He thought of roses. He thought of red and pink and yellow roses. The familiar song he always hummed under his breath poured from his throat, filling the Tomb with its low notes. This was Gabriel, he told himself. These were his brothers. It was a Revelation . . . and a Revelation led to killing. Raphael placed his hand on the stone floor beside his one bent knee. Felt the smooth hardness of the stone on his palm. Recalled the many times Gabriel had called his name and the lightness he would feel in his chest when he knew he had been given the kill. Fighting every rebellious instinct in his soul,