Redemption (A NOVEL OF THE SEVEN SIGNS) (17 page)

CHAPTER 13

Lord, he couldn’t stop staring at her mouth.

He wanted to taste it. Force those cherry lips apart, take her tongue with his, kiss her until she couldn’t breathe, until her mind scorched to mush with desire and she knew only him. Until every last thought of touching that foul monster in the vault was burned from her brain.

Jealous? He was
insane
.

He cupped her chin, stopping her from coming any closer. “If I were,” he said roughly, “it’d be unwise to provoke me, Rose Harley.”

Her dark eyes danced, victorious. She was practically purring. “That’s not a no.”

Japheth whirled away, quivering. He hadn’t said
no
. Hadn’t coldly brushed her off. What was one more lie? He’d already dragged his honor through the shitpile.
You have my word,
he’d said, and she’d believed him. What difference was one more untruth?

But little by little was how damnation happened. A slippery slide to hell. And the idea of some scum-shit bloodsucker touching her…

He closed his eyes, willing his throbbing blood to subside.
When he’d wrapped her in his wings upstairs, shielding her from the flames, he’d done so with a wince of distaste. He couldn’t help the way his body reacted to her. Touching her was wrong. So he’d steeled himself against attraction, intoxication, drunken lust.

But he hadn’t been prepared for what happened.

Her breath against his feathers
soothed
him. Her warm flesh both threat and solace. He was turned on, sure. Just being near her made him hard, but…it was more shameful than that.

Holding her had felt…right. Good. The way things should be. Protecting her lit sweet flames in his heart, and they burned still, mingling with his heaven-sent glory until he didn’t know one from the other.

Glory and earthly obsession. They felt like the same thing. How was he meant to tell the difference?

This Rose Harley would be his undoing. He’d never felt anything like this. If this was a hellspell—and what else could it be?—he was in serious trouble.

Because he had no damn clue how to fight it.

What if it isn’t a hellspell?
A wicked murmur, mingled with dark laughter.
What if it’s just…you?

Japheth shuddered. No way. Not true. He wasn’t like that. He’d only ever wanted glory for heaven. Only ever that…

You think feathers and a flaming sword make you special?
Always so reasonable, sin’s insidious whisper.
You’re a man. You’re supposed to want to protect her. Jesus, you’re supposed to want to fuck her. It’s natural. There’s nothing wrong with you.

The world’s ending, Jae. Lighten up.

But his muscles burned, his wing bones cramped and ached, bumps broke on his skin. Slicing up those vampires had only ratcheted his nerves tighter.

He flexed shaking fingers. No, he didn’t deserve to relax. Not the way he’d handled this. He’d broken the rules, and if this pain—this
jealousy
, for heaven’s sake—was his penance, he’d accept it.

Yes. Let Rose seduce Caliban, if that’s what she wanted. Japheth would watch while she touched this other man. Look
on mute while she bared her sweet body for this vampire’s vile hunger. He’d even watch while she lay with him, if that’s what it took. Listen to her moans as they sated each other. Smell their mingled fluids, the sweat, the iron-rich blood.

And when they’d gotten the information they needed? He’d tear the hell-cursed bastard’s limbs off, and watch him die.

Rose grinned at him, still waiting. “C’mon, angel. Would it hurt so much to admit you like me?”

“Whatever,” he said coldly. “Do what you like. Make a whore of yourself, I don’t care. But all you dirty hellspawn look the same to me. Don’t get too tangled up, or I might accidentally slice off the wrong head.”

*   *   *

Asshole!

Rose’s fingers itched to claw his eyes out. But she wanted to claw her own face, too. Frustration bubbled in her throat. She didn’t care what he thought of her. So why did it hurt when he called her a whore?

She tossed her braid back coolly. “Fine. Should be fun. Just pay attention, flyboy, and don’t interrupt me when I’m about to get off.” She flexed aching shoulders. “Now hit me.”

“What?”

“I’m about to stumble in there and tell Caliban you took me by force. It’ll be more convincing if I’m a bit dented. Now hit me.”

Japheth snorted. “Not a chance.”

“No time to mess around, angel. Lay one on me, and don’t you dare pull your punch because I’m a girl.”

“No.” But his knuckles flexed white.

She laughed. “You know you want to. It’ll feel good. Work the edge off that permanent hard-on of yours.”

“Rose, I won’t—”

Rose punched him. Hard, sweet, on the side of his perfect jaw.
Crunch!
Her finger bones rattled. But a grin plastered her face. Damn, that felt good.

Japheth stumbled, and recovered with a swift wing flare. He licked his bloody lip, and his eyes flashed hell-green. “Careful what you conjure.”

Rose hit him again. Cheekbone this time, her nails splitting his skin. She lined up for another one.

Crack!
The hard floor smacked into her back.

Her ears rang. She choked, dizzy. Her left cheek felt twice its normal size. She scrambled up, clumsy.

Gently, Japheth steadied her. “Feel good, vampire?”

“Screw you. You enjoyed it.” Rose shook her head to clear it. “Again.”

He tilted her chin up, examining her bruise. His fingers were light, soothing. She winced, and he jerked his hand away. “Looks authentic enough.”

“Think I can’t take more?”

“I’m sure you can take whatever I give you.” His murmur slid shivers under her skin, and in an instant, she was deeply aware of his fragrant male heat, the nerve-twisting double entendre in his words. “But I’m not sure I can.”

Warmth pooled inside her, unwilled but sweet. Her fangs ached. Curse him. Who was seducing whom here? She wanted to press close, find his desire and stroke it, let him kiss the stinging pain away… “Look,” she said thickly, “I didn’t mean to—”

“You think you can make me hurt you?” Acid dripped from his voice. “Think you can seduce me into sin? I may want to kill you, Rose Harley—believe me, nothing would please me more—but you won’t tempt me into torturing you for fun. Should I slice off a leg, rip off an arm or two? Perhaps I should force you. Would that be
convincing
enough?”

She jerked away, hot. “Yeah, you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you? Taking a defenseless woman by force? That’d really take the edge off that hard-on.”

“I’m not even going to dignify that.”

“Whatever. Don’t see you wringing your hands over all those other vampires you tortured to death.”

“That serves a purpose,” he retorted, but his wings showered fierce golden rain. “I don’t do it for kicks.”

She laughed harshly. “Right. Who do you actually think you’re fooling, Japheth? Because it sure as shit ain’t me. I’ve seen your eyes when you wield that sword. You
enjoy
hurting them. You
like
that they’re going to hell and you’re not.”

“You know
nothing
about what I like.” His feathers frosted, his glacial tone chipped sharp. Hell, ice was practically dripping from the walls.

She laughed again…but sultry memories melted, warm sweet syrup in her belly. She knew what he liked, all right. The taste of her tongue, her fingers stroking his cock through his jeans…

Her mouth soured at his doublethink. He wanted her. Wanted everything she offered. Hell, he was halfway to the dark side already.

He just didn’t have the balls to admit it.

Dark knots tightened in her belly. Just one more straw. That’d be all it took to break him. He’d fall into her deadly trap and drown, and enjoy every moment of it.

So why was she disappointed?

Whatever.
She speared him on a mocking grin. “Hey, don’t be bashful. You’re a sick son of a bitch. That’s okay with me. Hell, I’d even like you, if you weren’t such a self-satisfied asshat. You want to glory in suffering? Fine. Just don’t
lie
about it. It’s so pathetic.”

And she stalked into the dark, shaking.

CHAPTER 14

Down the sub-basement stairs, darkness swamped her utterly.

Rose shivered in the heat, straining her vampire sight. She could see, of course, the shadows filtering into smoky shapes, the glinting red edges of corridor and doorway. But this darkness in Caliban’s lair was more than lack of light. It was alive, crawling over her like a hungry creature, creeping stealthy fingers under her clothes, between her legs, down her throat to strangle her.

She clamped her mouth shut, and tried not to breathe, and kept descending.

She couldn’t hear Japheth behind her. Was he coming? Bastard moved silently when he wanted to. Hunger made her faint, her head swimming. Her anger still flared at his insults.

But who cared? Caliban could feed her. Maybe even help her get rid of this horrid angel’s mark. She had only Japheth’s word that until he released her, the mark was permanent. For all his lofty words about lying being sinful, he could still be winding her up.

But Caliban might kill her on sight. Best to stick with the plan until she got inside, and could explain to Caliban about
the mark. Then, and only then, she’d see the color of Japheth’s truth.

And if he’d lied?

Her teeth clenched tighter. If he’d lied, she’d do more than feed him her blood. She’d rip the dirtbag apart and laugh while he fell screaming to hell.

At last, her feet touched smooth floor. The stink thickened, blood and sour human fear. Wails and sobs lit the air like fireworks. Her vampire night sight outlined a wide space, the entire basement’s breadth. At the end, Caliban’s iron door lay barred, floor to ceiling, like a huge old-fashioned bank vault with a big levered handle. Prison bars lined the walls left and right, and behind them, humans squirmed and groaned and beat their fists against the steel.

Caliban’s party snacks.
Cattle
, he called them. Men, women, children, too. Most were naked. Some writhed on the floor, gripped by unholy nightmares. Others flailed and screamed, fighting each other. Still others slumped against walls or bars, close to death, their will sucked away.

Rose swallowed hungry spit. The scent of food made her head whirl. Weeping wounds marred the humans’ skin, knives or spikes or vampire teeth. She could see the blood. Their heartbeats pounded in her ears, hammering a sick chorus, driving her on like insane jungle drums…

No.
Her nails sliced into her palms, the sting ripping her trance apart. She gulped air, seeking fresh strength.
I won’t give in. If that angel can resist me? I can resist this.

Woodenly, she dragged her singed hair loose from the braid. Her swollen eye ached. Blood stained her clothes, her face was bruised, her forehead scorched and weeping with Japheth’s Tainted sigil. Convincing enough.

She sprinted down the room towards the vault door, stumbling and catching herself. “Caliban! It’s Rose. Rose Harley. Open the door.” She banged on the iron, below the tiny inspection slot. The door boomed like a massive bell, echoing into silence.