Redemption (A NOVEL OF THE SEVEN SIGNS) (10 page)

She flushed, her halo shimmering brighter. She knew almost nothing about men. Except that they didn’t want her, not really. Not since she’d been Tainted. She was a toy to be used, a distraction at best. So she used them back. Took what she could while it lasted, and moved on. Tried not to get attached.

But Shax was different. Weeks ago, they’d met by chance, in a burned-out Babylon office block amid battle’s fiery chaos. Since then, she’d thought of him day and night, giddy like a lovesick girl. They’d spent enchanting hours, stolen in secret. He made her think. He made her laugh. They’d climbed the Great Pyramid at midnight, strolled in a fragrant Paris
evening, swum in sunlit waters off the sparkling Mediterranean coast.

Mercy, how he haunted her. In her daydreams, he stalked her, invisible, a burning breath on her shoulder, a ghostly caress in her hair, a sweet touch of unseen lips. But at night, she dreamed of him, soaked in fever and nightmarish desire…

“My princess.” Hot velvet darkness, the dizzying scent of ash and thunder. His burning body caressed her back, his fingers featherlight on her shoulders, his soft kiss teased her hair…

“Shax.” Jadzia fought dizzy wits, unbalanced. Oh, to lean back, inhale, let him consume her… She edged away, her pulse racing. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Miss the sight of you? Never.” Shax captured her hand, twirling her about like a dancer. Her warm silken skirts whispered over her thighs, and suddenly she didn’t feel ridiculous, but powerful, feminine, desirable…and he was hot, deadly, male. He pulled her into his arms, crimson-flame eyes alight. “Gorgeous,” he murmured.

Her stomach fluttered. No,
he
was gorgeous. Perfect face, luminous like moonshine. His hair caressed her bare shoulder, blue-black and so soft it might dissolve. Sweet hellsparks danced over her skin. They didn’t burn, like they should. But something surely did, deep inside her, sinful and darkly delicious…

“I hope you’ve not waited long.” He stroked her chin, one long finger. Wiry muscles, tight under black studded leather armor that smelled of flames.
Demon armor. My enemy
…“Sometimes my duties keep me. I’m sorry.”

She swallowed, dry. Shax worked for Azaroth, the Demon King. He’d been fighting in Babylon, most like. Killing her friends. Spreading his master’s evil like a plague. “I didn’t mean…that is, I…”

“Don’t be afraid.” His crimson eyes glinted, drinking her platinum glow hungrily. “No one can see us. It’s just you and me.”

That’s what I’m afraid of
…But her voice withered, sucked away by his heat, his hard body, his hair’s ashen fragrance…

His mouth hunted hers, and swiftly made the kill. Sweet hellfire. He tasted of storms and blood. His lips, gentle yet hungry on hers, leading her on, inviting her to open for him, yearn against him. Her breasts ached against his chest. Her hands sought his body, his hair, his burning skin beneath the leather. His muscles played under her palms, taut, so smooth…

“Jadzia.” God, she loved how he whispered her name. How he kissed her, so hot and soulful, just the way she liked. Desire dizzied her. “My moonlight princess. So beautiful it hurts. How I’ve missed you.”

He slid teasing fingers into her feathers, stroking deep. She trembled. “Shax…”

“Mmm?” He nuzzled her throat, sharp teeth stinging, and it oozed straight to her sex. She shuddered, unconscionably alive. She’d resisted him until now, pulling away like a nervous teenager before she lost control. But she wanted more than his kiss. Much more.

Oh, lord.
She groaned, lost. She wanted to climb him. Open her legs, fold them around him, suck his tongue into her mouth. “We can’t…”

“We
must
.” A sweet flicker of tongue burned her ear. “We belong together. My stunning angel.”

His pretty words melted her. It was foolish. She didn’t care. He made her feel…desirable. Special. Not just another conquest. He actually wanted
her
…

Just a demon’s lies. Kill him right now. Slit his throat and be done.

Her nipples poked at her thin dress. She wanted him so badly her head ached. But the threat of hellfire scorched her raw, deep in the dark bleeding void where her soul once lived…

She fluttered away, her heart pounding. Warm waves splashed her toes, sinking into the sand. “I… I can’t. Not tonight. Michael called. I’ve gotta go. I’m sorry.”

“Ah.” Shax’s crimson gaze glittered. He tucked shy hands behind his back with a rueful smile. “I understand. Michael. Charming fellow. No doubt it’s about his vials. I hear there’s one in Bhutan?”

Jadzia coughed, grateful for the change of subject…but she couldn’t rip her gaze from Shax. Ghostly flames licked his midnight hair, a faint cascade of fire. His plum-red lips still shone from kissing her. Her skin still craved his lost heat. So easy, to slip into the darkness…

But her feathers stung in confusion. Bhutan? She hadn’t checked her voice mail, didn’t know what Michael wanted. Who was Shax, that he knew so much? “How did you…?”

“I pay attention, that’s all.” Shax’s crimson gaze licked over her, hungry. “The demon’s called Luuceat. The Prince of Fire, now, I’m told. The King rewards his favorite subjects, and the one thing they all want is a vial.”

And what about you, Shax? What do you want?
“But…we killed the first two princes.”

An amused flicker of eyebrow. “Indeed.”

“Not much of a reward if you’re dead. Aren’t they afraid?”

“Possibly. But they crave power more. Prince Luuceat has an explosive temper. He likes things to burn. If he brings that vial to Babylon…” He cleared his throat, and smiled, mild yet terrifying. “Well. Perhaps I’ve already said too much.”

Urgency itched at her. “Why would he bring the vial to Babylon? What’s going on?”

An elegant shrug. “Because that’s where Azaroth wants the final battle. He’s in charge. No one asks those questions. Just be careful in Bhutan, Jadzia. Michael breaks his toys.”

And you don’t?

Jadzia’s thoughts whirled, crazy. Again—just like in Babylon, when he’d helped her defeat the Prince of Blood—Shax was warning her of danger. But why?

He smiled again, dark and secret. His ashen scent caressed her. Illicit heat sank deeper, so good she wanted to groan, unfold, let it take her…

Despair sweetened her need. Surely this couldn’t be real. He was seducing her. Preying on her aching loneliness.
That’s what demons do, girl.
Iria’s experienced voice clanged in her skull.
They’re so damn reasonable. They chip away at your convictions. They caress you until you expose your weaknesses, and then they skewer you. Don’t let him coax you into darkness
…

Their gazes locked. Silence stretched tighter, tearing.

“Well,” Shax said eventually. His sigh was sweet, disappointed. He turned. “I’ll leave you be.”

Jadzia’s heart contracted, a swift stab of pain. “Wait.”

He halted. His shadows flickered on the sand, the rushing water.

End it, Jadzia. While you still can
…She inhaled, crisp sea air and courage. “When can I see you again?”

He vanished, and suddenly he surrounded her, folding her in his arms. Glittering ash tingled into her skin. He inhaled, an inch away, thieving her breath. “Let it be soon. My world is parched without you. Kiss me, my princess, or I’ll die of thirst.”

His mouth claimed hers once more. God, he was so perfect. Their bodies molded together like long-lost parts of a whole. His ashen flavor made her drunk. His touch lit fireworks in her blood, not hellfire but storm-drenched desire. She could feel it, the way his cock pressed hard and angry against her. Her legs rinsed to water. She melted against him, yearning, alive like she’d never been.
I can’t resist this. You win. I surrender
…

A tiny laugh, sparkling into her mouth. “I know,” Shax whispered, and dissolved to smoke.

CHAPTER 7

Japheth stole down the narrow firelit street, sword in hand. The moon glared between looming buildings, a fat red fireball, only one night from full. It poured eerie shadows through the trees, licked down the walls, dripped on the barred windows like blood.

Broken glass littered the sidewalk, the remnants of some protest or riot. The charred shell of a car still flickered with orange flames. A starving dog rooted through garbage, bloody foam coating its jaws. Rat bites oozed corruption on its skin. Somewhere, a baby cried.

His nose twitched, hunting rotten hellflesh. Elusive, this Fluvium. He didn’t keep just a single nest, where he could be besieged and slaughtered. No, he flitted ghostlike through the West Village streets, spreading his curse like a poisoned shadow.

And no one was talking. Already tonight, seven vampires had perished on Japheth’s sword, and before they’d died, he’d demanded everything they knew about their demon master. And he’d gotten nothing.

Not a damn thing. Just cackles, spitting vitriol, fear. One had dirtied himself, the stain spreading on his jeans before
Japheth skewered him in disgust. All terrified to their putrid bones of hell.

Coldly, Japheth pushed damp hair from his eyes. They’d made their choice. They’d given up, succumbed to the hunger. It was too late for them. They deserved what was coming.

But he still hadn’t found
her
.

His ears twitched. He spun, searching… Nothing. Just leaves, rustling in some non-existent breeze. Surely he’d heard footsteps, smelled some faint sweetness that tingled his tongue…

He gritted cold teeth, sweating in his silver armor. Last night, he’d fled home in pale pre-dawn, tried to scrub his mind of Michael’s taunts and get some rest. But he’d spent a restless few hours, fevered and comfortless, dreaming of
her
.

The vampire bitch, dark eyes flashing, her spicy female scent torturing him. Her mouth warm and delicious on his, her hair spilling over his hands. Muscles straining, hot hard flesh, pinning her beneath him, fighting for her wrists, spreading her taut thighs and pushing into her, pounding within her, rage and passion and unslakable thirst and…

Well, yeah. That.

He’d woken in a burning sweat before they’d finished. It still felt like someone had kicked him in the balls. But he preferred aching balls to the alternative.

Normal male lust was one thing. Wanting to make love to… He squirmed, mortified. Wanting to
fuck
some dirty hellspawn… Even a vicious workout and a stinging cold shower had barely calmed him down.

If twitching feathers and a stone-hard dick could pass for
calm
. He was still thinking about her. Still imagining how she’d feel. Her devilmagic might be dissolved, but he still struggled under her spell. And only her screaming death on his sword could break him free…

“Looking for someone, angel?”

That honey-blood voice quivered his feathers taut.

She grinned, mocking. Leaning against the redbrick wall beneath a rusted fire escape, steeped in magical shadow and hot vampire stink.

He stared, dumb. Tall for a girl, only a head shorter than
he. Long legs, encased in blue jeans and black army boots. Her short black t-shirt stretched over full breasts, flashing that tempting skin above a silver belt buckle. Her bare arms shone, muscular but womanly. Sexy dimples in her cheeks, perfectly shaped for cupping in his palms.

The bloody feathers of slain angels, gold and white and red, stuck through the thick dark braid she tossed over her shoulder. A few wisps escaped to play around her face in the summer-night breeze. He wanted to trace their path with his fingertips, cheekbone to chin to cherry-ripe lips…

“Matter of fact, I am,” he said tightly. “Your sniveling master. Fluvium, is it? Prince of Thirst? Tell me where he is and I might kill you quickly.”

She laughed, fangs glinting. Sharp, lethal like a tigress’s. “You’ve come to kill Fluvium? Good luck with that.” She lolled on one foot, eyeing him speculatively, sizing up her prey. “Japheth, right? Of the Tainted Host? Cute name, for a hamster.”

Sweet lord, his name in her mouth sounded…dirty. He swallowed, rough. “How’d you know that?”

“I know my enemy.” She licked ripe lips.