Beautiful Salvation (32 page)

Adonis burst out laughing. “I don’t believe our vampire wishes to be healed, Aiyana.”

Aiyana held out her hands. “I’m not trying to do it. The energy is working as it will.” Her voice echoed as it left her lips, reverberating with the power pulsing through her into the land.

A sharp bark sounded behind them, preceding the arrival of two giant wolves. The larger one, its fur a darker brown than its mate, bobbed its head in an awkward bow.

“Etienne, so pleased to see you’re all right.” Saamal bowed to his companion. “And you as well, Loupe.”

There was a thud behind them followed by slightly hysterical laughter. Amusement quirked up the corner of Saamal’s mouth as he found Patricio lying on the ground, holding his stomach as he rolled with laughter. His sword hung limply from his hand in the grass, covered in blood. More blood spatter covered the angel’s face, arms, and legs. His cerulean eyes glowed with a light to rival the fading moon, his hair appearing more golden as the sun started to send its first rays into the sky. Aiyana lifted an eyebrow at Saamal. He shrugged, his smile widening.

Adonis jogged over to the angel, putting his hands on his knees as he bent to inspect Patricio’s strange fit. After a moment, a grin split his face.

“He’s drunk,” the demon crowed. “Too much sin in too little time!”

Saamal chuckled and pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “He will need help getting home.”

Adonis looked down at himself and back at the human Adonis who was still examining his body, hands on his chest as if he still couldn’t quite believe he was alive. “Kirill’s probably already back in
Dacia
, I can’t use the mirror for travel.” He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “But if I’m not bound by flesh anymore…”

Saamal pulled Aiyana back as astral magic crackled in the air. Adonis’ body rippled and swelled, scales erupting as he grew larger and larger. His wings stretched until they nearly blocked out the light from the rising sun, and his snout extended from his face, serpentine tongue flicking out. He fell onto all fours, his back legs continuing to grow thicker as his front legs sprouted sharp bony points on the elbows and wrists. Saamal grinned as the demon blinked draconic eyes the size and color of massive rubies.

“My friend, you are most impressive,” Saamal complimented him.

“He’s beautiful,” Aiyana breathed.

She reached out a hand and Adonis slid his snout under her fingers, letting her stroke the fine scales. He exhaled and smoke drifted from his nostrils, scented with cloves.

Saamal grabbed one of Patricio’s hands. “Come on, Prince Patricio, it’s time for you to go home.”

“I feel amazing.” Patricio’s head lolled against his shoulder, his muscles as limp as wet noodles. “I hope you’ll have me back soon.”

“I’ll be sure to make many more enemies for you to slay,” Saamal promised wryly.

“Not too many, I hope.” Marcela approached the group, her arms full of clothing. Her blue-green eyes shone as she gave her husband a once over. “He’s going to be fun to carry, Adonis. Somehow I think we’re going to need help keeping him on your back.” She turned to the wolves and set down her armload of clothing. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said to Aiyana and Saamal over her shoulder. “I borrowed some clothes for those of us who lose them when we change forms.”

“You are welcome to any clothing I have,” Aiyana assured her.

They all turned their backs, giving the lycan couple some privacy to shift and dress themselves.

“Adonis, you’d better not be peeking,” Ivy warned him.

There was an indignant snort, following by a cloud of clove-scented smoke.

A few moments later, everyone was dressed and Etienne and Saamal grabbed Patricio by his arms and dragged him over to Adonis. Aiyana giggled as they struggled to shove the angel onto the dragon’s back, cursing as his giant white wings hindered their progress. Etienne’s muscles bunched as he gripped the angel and heaved him up and very nearly over the dragon’s back to the ground on the other side.

“Not quite so enthusiastic, my friend.” Saamal tightened his grip on Patricio’s leg, barely keeping him astride the dragon.

Etienne grinned. “Sorry. Feeling a little more energized than I expected.”

Saamal glanced at Aiyana, appreciating her curves, so beautifully cradled by the exquisite fairy dress. “I can empathize.” He regretfully pulled his attention from his wife and faced the human Adonis.

“Welcome back to the living, Prince Adonis of Nysa.” The words tasted strange on his tongue as he used them for something other than the incubus.

“What a strange day it’s been.” Human Adonis accepted Saamal’s hand, brow furrowed in confusion. “I still don’t understand how… How is this possible? I died, I know I died. I met…the other Adonis.” He blushed. “I’m afraid I don’t recall what his name was before… I met him before my death, I spoke to him. I was so grateful he agreed to help, but I never thought… I never thought I’d…” He shrugged helplessly, running a hand through his hair.

Saamal stepped back and put his arm around Aiyana. “It is not everyday that a new earth goddess comes into her godhood. Earth deities have powerful creation magic, and it is never so great as the moment they first come into their power.” He beamed down at Aiyana, pride swelling in his chest. “Aiyana was waking up the land, pouring everything she was into the earth.” He glanced back at human Adonis. “I’m pleased to say it had unforeseen benefits.”

Human Adonis bowed slightly. “I will be forever grateful.”

“Not as grateful as I think your parents will be,” Aiyana guessed.

Adonis stiffened, every muscle in his body appearing to freeze in time. “Mother and Father.” He whirled around and clambered up the dragon’s side, muscles trembling with an excitement Saamal could only imagine.

“I’ll help hold the drunken angel on,” Etienne offered, ambling up beside the dragon. “If you’ll give us a lift to Sanguenay?”

The dragon snorted and lowered itself to the ground. Etienne helped Loupe and Marcela onto his back before climbing up himself and settling behind Patricio where he was slumped over the dragon’s back. Etienne hissed and glared at Patricio for a moment before grabbing his sword. He pressed his lips together and wrestled the weapon into the angel’s scabbard.

Saamal gathered Aiyana closer to him as they waved his companions off. He couldn’t quite make himself let go of her, didn’t want to risk letting go and discovering that it’d all been a dream. As the dragon rose into the air and flew off in the direction of Meropis, a rush of sound poured from the castle. Saamal and Aiyana turned to find people trickling out of the front doors in a staggering wave of color.

“The curse is truly broken,” Saamal observed. “Everyone is awake.”

“Will they remember the Dreamworld?” Aiyana wondered aloud.

“No. Mortals remember no more than bits and pieces of the other world. For them, it will be as if they slept for only a short time.”

“Then this is going to come as a shock.” Aiyana squeezed his hand.

“But perhaps not an unpleasant one.”

Tenoch’s voice came from behind them and the muscles in Saamal’s shoulders tightened. The ghost came to stand in front of him and Saamal’s lips parted in shock. The ghostly apparition that had become so familiar in the past hours was no more. Tenoch stood before him, still dressed as he had been at the time of his death, but with a body of flesh and blood. His color was a deep burnished copper, his eyes a rich chocolate brown. His hair hung down his back like glossy ebony feathers and the energy coming from him was no longer that of an ethereal being, but the warm hum of a mortal.

“Thank you for giving me my life back.” Tenoch bowed deeply to Aiyana.

“I am so very grateful I could,” Aiyana said sincerely. “But it wasn’t truly me, it was the land. That magic came from me, but I didn’t know what to do with it. I simply poured it into the earth.”

“Then perhaps you are already wiser than your predecessor. Perhaps the land knows what is best for it.” Tenoch faced Saamal, his face calm and expressionless, empty of the previous ire that had always accompanied his interaction with the god. “You are not the deity you were when I lived my first life. Whether you choose to follow this new path or return to your old one will determine who you are now.” He contemplated Saamal for a moment, brown eyes serious, reflective. “Your wife has a good heart. The land responds to her in powerful, compassionate ways. She will be a good influence on you, I think, if you will let her.” He crossed his arms. “What will you do now, Black God?”

Saamal didn’t have to ask to know he was referring to the human sacrifices. Strangely enough, part of him wanted to lie, to offer Tenoch assurances that what happened to him would never happen again, that no other man would ever go through the ritual that had taken his life. But no matter how he had changed, how he wanted to change, he couldn’t allow the past to repeat itself. Cipactli could not be ignored. “Tenoch—”

“There will be a different kind of sacrifice,” Aiyana interrupted. “A greater, but less deadly one.”

Unease rolled through Saamal’s stomach as he faced his bride. “Aiyana, you saw what happened to the land after the sacrifices were halted.”

“Yes, and I’ve also been one with the earth, felt Cipactli’s mind against my own. You were right, it’s not merely the flesh, it’s the sacrifice, the gratitude. Cipactli wants to be remembered, wants to be honored as she deserves to be.” Aiyana looked out over the land, paying particular attention to the people streaming out of the castle.

“From now on, there will be a festival in Cipactli’s honor. Everyone in the kingdom, man, woman, and child will offer a drop of blood in remembrance of Cipactli’s sacrifice.”

Saamal shifted on his feet, faint creases around his eyes betraying his doubt. “And you think that will be enough?”

“It is a lot of blood, and it’s even more honor. It should not be up to one subject to sacrifice for the greater good, one person to give up everything. All who benefit from the bounty Cipactli provides should take the time to honor her, to thank her. A drop of blood is very little to ask for, but it will be a strong reminder of the one who made all of this possible. And perhaps, this sacrifice will shift our people’s view of Cipactli as well. Perhaps there will be less fear with their honor.” Aiyana put her hand on his chest, a gentle, loving gesture. “As with you, perhaps they will find that their benefactors are not the unapproachable, terrifying gods they once were.”

“You make it sound like a lovely idea,” Saamal admitted. He brushed a lock of hair back behind Aiyana’s ear. “I trust your judgment. Let it be so.”

“If I may, I would be honored to oversee such a festival,” Tenoch offered, squaring his shoulders. He met Saamal’s eyes. “I will make certain that no…misunderstandings, mar the festivities.”

Despite the seriousness of his words, there was no malice, no accusation. It was an honest, sincere offer, and Saamal accepted it in the same spirit. Saamal bowed his head. “We would be most grateful for your diligence. If you’ll wait for a moment, we have people to greet and arrangements to make for a proper, formal wedding. Then I would be honored to see you to a place in the palace.”

“Thank you. I think I would like to spend some time in your forest, to reacquaint myself with the physical plane as a flesh and blood man again. I will come to the palace at sundown.”

“I will be waiting for you,” Saamal agreed.

Tenoch proceeded in the direction of the forest, his gait calm and leisurely, as if today were any other day. After a few feet, he paused and glanced over his shoulder. Saamal met his eyes calmly, standing tall and proud beside his wife. The time for guilt was over, today was a new beginning. Some of the tension in Tenoch’s shoulders eased. Without another word, he continued on his way to the forest.

Saamal pulled Aiyana into his arms and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth.