Redemption (A NOVEL OF THE SEVEN SIGNS) (11 page)

“Yeah?” he said coldly. “Well, I don’t want to know you, whore. I don’t care what your name is—”

“Rose Harley,” she cut in swiftly, with a wicked grin. “Whoops. Too late. Sorry about that. You like it anonymous, don’t you? So you can pretend they’re not people when you damn them to eternal torment?”

His grip spasmed around his sword. Sweet heaven, he wanted to stab her. Fill her with burning steel. Twist it, thrust it deeper, make her moan… “You don’t need me to damn you. You made your choice. Tell me where Fluvium’s hiding, and I’ll put you out of your misery.”

She laughed again, and strolled towards him, hands in pockets. “You sure could learn a thing or two from demons about making deals. Like, I dunno. Offering me something I actually want?”

Her knife still lay sheathed, in her thigh holster. Unafraid, was she? Grudging admiration tingled under his skin, and he
crackled it off. Nothing admirable about a demon minion’s attitude. “So you do know where he’s hiding, then.”

“And what if I do?” She draped her gaze over his silver-clad chest, his bare arms, his glowing blue sword… Her scrutiny flushed treacherous heat right to the top of his head. He could smell her, blood and corruption, yes, but underneath, the hot salty musk of female flesh…

Surely, she was his nemesis. Sent to tempt him into falling. Well, he wouldn’t give in. Not when he was so close to redemption.

But his heart pumped hard, and unwilled, his body jerked, muscles rippling.

She caught her bottom lip in her teeth, a playful smile that made him think dirty thoughts. “Suppose I could tell you where he is, angel,” she crooned. “What would you give me?”

He wanted to back away, put distance between them. But he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “A painless death?”

She pouted. “Not what I had in mind.”

“I can make it hurt, if you’d rather.” His left hand twitched, the one with the Tainted sigil burned into the palm. Oh, yes, he certainly could. Drag his blessed hands over her, burn her with sweet heavenflash until she writhed. Glide his blade slowly under her skin, peel away the layers, expose the hot trembling flesh beneath and torture it until she…

“Now you’re just teasing.” She inched closer, a sultry invitation. “How about…a kiss?”

He laughed. “Don’t make me puke.”

But her cursed ripe scent maddened him. How dare a vampire smell so…sensual? She wouldn’t smell half so nice dead…

“Oh, I dunno. You seemed to enjoy it last time.” Lazily, she twirled her braid in one deft finger. Her short fingernails were painted black.

“You spelled me last time.” He stared at them, dizzy. Damn, that was hot. How would those sexy nails feel? Teasing him, her fingers wrapping around his cock, trailing sweet fire, her ripe red lips…

“Are you sure?” A husky laugh that made him tremble.
“C’mon, angel. You’re already Tainted. What’s it matter? Just one little kiss. It’ll feel so good—ah!”

He grabbed her belt buckle and yanked her hips against him.

Strong, yet soft and female. She gasped, and it stabbed right to his balls. His thumb sizzled on her belly, inside her jeans. He didn’t care. The wicked sensation felt so good. Almost as good as her body pressing against him, her hellcurse burning him, matching the ugly fire inside. His hard cock jutted against her belly, only a few layers of rough fabric between them. Those luscious breasts almost—not quite—brushed his silver-clad chest. God, a man could live a thousand years and never see breasts as sweet as hers. Her nipples made tiny quivering peaks against her t-shirt, begging for his tongue…

Sweet fucking Jesus.
He growled, deep in his chest, a long-forgotten animal sound of need. “You want me, vampire?”

She laughed, her eyes dark. “You asshole. Hell, yes, I want you.”

“Then come get me.”

She pressed closer, almost purring, and desire dizzied him. Blood gleamed crimson on her lips. God, he wanted to kiss them. He could almost taste her, feel her slick heat, her tongue alive in his mouth, those magnificent breasts crushing ripe in his hands…

He slammed his left palm against her forehead, and murmured a breathless charm to heaven.

Blue light flashed. Flesh sizzled, the stink of unholy smoke. And she howled, rich with thwarted fury, and stumbled backwards.

CHAPTER 8

Damn it.

Rose staggered. Pain chewed between her eyes, a rabid disease. Her forehead sizzled, his Tainted spell eating her flesh almost to the bone. But the acid sting to her ego was worse.

The bastard tricked her. Let her think she’d won. A triumphant kiss, the cursed blood already on her lips. Slide her tongue into his mouth, let the hot crimson fluid flow, and it’d all be over. So easy, to push him over the edge.

But she hadn’t.

Instead, the hunger raged like fever inside her. Her nipples stung. Her mouth hurt, fangs straining for blood. Deep in her belly, she starved for him. Hot angry release, the rough ground scraping her raw, his flesh driven so deep inside her it hurt. Bruises, biting, fists yanking her hair…

He’d tricked her. Violated her. And she’d fallen for it like a drunken skydiver.

His spell dizzied her, sickening. She grabbed her knife and rounded on him, unsteady. “You lying bastard. What have you done?”

Japheth grinned, savage. Green frost glittered in his eyes. “Enjoying it, demonslut? It’s a Tainted angel’s mark.”

“What’s that mean?” Frantic, she swiped her forehead with the back of her hand. Moisture smeared, a weeping burn. Already the pain subsided, the fiery sensation fading. Didn’t make it any less humiliating.

The damn angel was still breathing hard, too. His muscles still gleamed with sweat, his big body quivering, the evidence of his arousal staring her in the face.

Ditto on the humiliating.

“It means you’re mine.” He flashed his sword away, laughing coldly at her expression. “Not like that, idiot. Maybe if you were human, I could save you. But you’re still a demon’s slave, if that makes you feel better.”

Strange fever still wracked her, making her sweat. A peculiar smell radiated from her body that made her queasy. She wanted to rake her nails down his handsome face. “Then what? What have you
done
?”

“It means you’re under my protection. All those friends you thought you had? Your stinking vampire coven, or whatever you call it? They aren’t your friends anymore.” He shrugged, casual, but feral amusement tweaked his lips. Charmingly roguish smile, when he wanted. Bastard. “To them, you smell of angel now. You smell of me.”

“Screw you.” Not very eloquent. But it was all she could think of. A madwoman’s laughter bubbled in her throat. The night Bridie died, she’d screamed her heart out for one scrap of heaven’s attention. Now, she was marked by an angel, and it’d kill her.

“Hell, you probably even taste of me. They’ll attack you on sight. Hunt you down like the traitor you are.”

“You’re lying, asshole.” But her throat tightened. What if he wasn’t? Caliban’s Chosen were already gunning for her. With the rest of the coven hunting her, too, there’d be nowhere to hide. Never mind what Fluvium would do to her, if she came back with an angel’s sigil burned into her forehead. Never mind the hell that awaited her if she couldn’t do his bidding.

Fight him, fuck him, I really don’t care.
Fluvium’s words slithered back, fanged with malice.

But he did care. Her demon was a jealous god. And his vengeance would be terrible.

Japheth shrugged. “I never lie. Not even to hellspawn. Face it, I’m the only friend you’ve got.”

She wanted to flee. To run, and keep on running until she died. But instead, she laughed, and stalked up to him, threatening her blade at his eyeballs. “What, are you offering me
protection
? Forgive me if I spit it back in your face—ugh!”

She hit the ground flat on her face, beneath a sweep of golden feathers.

And two slobbering vampires leapt screaming from the rusted fire escape, and landed square on the spot where she’d stood.

Rose and Japheth rolled, and thudded against the gritty gutter. Great. Now the big bastard lay on top of her, shielding her with gleaming golden wings. She fought to see her attackers. A guy and a girl, skinny and undernourished. Their hungry eyes glittered, fledgling fangs drooling. Their clothes were torn, their skin ragged with fang marks. They’d bitten each other, in a doomed effort to sate their hunger.

A clumsy ambush by any standards. She’d been too preoccupied with this damn angel to notice them coming.

Japheth grinned down at her, breathless. “Told you so.”

“Gallant prick, aren’t you?” Her heart pounded. He was surprisingly supple, all that bulging muscle lighter than she’d expected. And…oh, yeah. She squirmed, a hot ache swelling inside. Did he ever not have a hard-on?

Was he easing it against her? Feeling her? Jesus, it sure felt that way. Her breasts ached. She wanted to open her thighs, wrap her leg around him, put that hot hard pressure to use where it’d feel good…

The vampires moaned in mindless hunger, and advanced. Rose struggled to keep her thoughts in line. They hadn’t attacked him, jumping in to defend her as she’d expected.

They’d attacked
her
.

Her head ached. Something was strange. Japheth’s steely fingers, crushing her wrist. His feathers curling in her hair…

Shit on a stick. He’s not burning me.

Her head swam. No sizzling skin or melting flesh. He’d marked her, all right. And those bloodsuckers were crouching for the kill…

“Get off me,” Rose snapped. “We kill ’em, then I kick your golden ass. Deal?”

A blinding smile. “Try it.”

And he leapt off her, a golden-blue whoosh of wings and heavenflame, and flung her to her feet.

She came out stabbing, whirling to keep balanced, swinging her blade in a wide arc.

The vampire girl leapt backwards, her eyes afire with unholy hatred. She’d chewed her own hands bloody, trying to quench her thirst. “Come here, heavenbitch,” she snarled. “Let me eat you.”

“You’re not my type,” said Rose coolly, and dived for the girl’s legs. Her shoulder connected, a sick crunch of bone. The girl tumbled on top of her. A swift hack of her knife across that pale bitten throat, and it was done. She pushed the corpse away, disgusted. Stupid girl.

Behind her, flesh ripped, wet. She spun on her toes, ready to fight.

Japheth dropped the vampire boy’s dripping head. Cursed blood sizzled on his fingers, but he just flexed them, watching them heal. He caught his breath, muscles cording in his arms. His wings danced with ruby sparkles, the shimmering shadow of glory.

She stared, transfixed. He got off on this. He liked the blood, the rush, the slice of steel in flesh…and like a sleek and hungry bird of prey, it made him beautiful.

Rose’s jaded heart shivered, warm. She liked a good fight before sex. And now, with this grotesque mark on her forehead, his flesh didn’t burn her. When she did finally get her way with him—he’d bested her this time with his lying heaventricks, but she had more than one weapon in her arsenal, oh yes—it could be more fun than she’d thought…

Silently, she sneered, kicking the idea away. She’d never demean herself to be his plaything. This angel would go to hell on her terms. Rose’s way, or no way.

Which meant she couldn’t stand another second of this pestilent
mark. The burn already itched, like a virulent rash that wouldn’t heal. Next time, it might not be stupid, fuck-addled fledglings who attacked her.

She jumped, and landed before him in a crouch, knife poised. “Thanks so much, Sir Lancelot,” she jeered. “Very noble of you. Now take this thing off me before I skin you and rape your rotting bones.”

Challenge glittered in his eyes. “Only if you cooperate.”

Her muscles ached, fatigue and hunger. She needed blood. If he didn’t release her, she’d have to eat in front of him. The idea sickened her. Satan knew, he’d already humiliated her enough. For him to see
that
…

She scowled, catching herself. Why did she care if he saw her feeding? “Fine. I’ll play. What is it you want?”

A gilded shrug. “Clean energy. World peace. No more reality TV…”