Redemption (A NOVEL OF THE SEVEN SIGNS) (19 page)

Maybe half a minute, it had taken his clever vampire lady to trick Caliban. The longest thirty seconds of Japheth’s life. Watching her slide her lithe body on him, part her sweet lips for that monster’s blood… Jesus, he’d almost bitten his tongue in half. Her husky groan of longing was excruciating, maddening, both the worst and the sexiest fucking thing he’d ever heard. Holy mercy, he’d nearly spilled himself in his leathers without a single touch.

But now, glory soaked his blood, ecstasy and agony and delirium in one. Rose was safe. And this sadistic vampire scum squirmed at his mercy.

Japheth grinned, rabid. Penance later. Time for holy work.
And damn him to hell’s deepest dungeon if he wasn’t going to enjoy every second of it.

Caliban howled, his eyes weeping red. Fresh crimson flowered from his wounds. God, he stank, crap and corruption and his demon master’s foul malice. “I can’t see! Show yourself, heavenscuuummmm…”

“Right here.” Japheth jammed a thumb into Caliban’s burned eye socket. “Where’s your master, asshole?”

“Sataaan!!”
Caliban squealed. Sinews popped tight in his neck, and he gurgled.
“Masterrrrr!!”
His ruined vampire flesh crawled, trying to repair itself. But the damage was too great. Without his gemstone, his magic failed him.

“Satan’s still in the pit, dimwit. And Fluvium’s not listening. Your lord doesn’t care about you. Where is he?”

An evil chuckle. “Ha ha. Go fuck yourself. You and your cringing
sheee
-bitch!” But Caliban’s dark skin shone, clammy. His forehead twitched, and his sweat smelled goaty, rank with terror.

Like most sadists, in his heart this Caliban was a coward. Reveling in power over others to hide his fear.

Not like Rose Harley, who’d jumped into the fire with open eyes. She must have known what it’d cost her. Just remembering her anguish broke fresh sweat on Japheth’s palms.

Now, Rose’s cheeks glistened with fever, her eyes unnaturally bright. She attacked Caliban, fingers like claws. “Don’t even speak to me, you evil motherf—”

“Peace, Rose Harley. Back off. I’ll deal.” Japheth shrugged her aside, but gently. Hell-bound she might be. Didn’t mean she wasn’t the bravest woman he knew.

He slammed Caliban’s skull into the bars once more. “Go on, vampire. Insult her again. See what happens.”

“She-bitch,” repeated Caliban, and giggled, unhinged.

Japheth hissed a guttural charm.

Eager heavenlight rained, and tiny smoke tendrils curled from Caliban’s skin. Angry hellspells boiled in response. He scrabbled at them blindly. “The darkness, it eeeeats meee! Can’t seeeee… !”

Grimly, Japheth forced Caliban’s chin upwards, and spat into his face. Heavenlight bubbled, spreading over the vampire’s
body in an angry blue cloud. And the hungry hellspells howled, and speared for Caliban’s living flesh.

Some sank stinging teeth into Japheth’s fingers by mistake. They exploded, blood splashing. The others snarled in frustration, and dove back to Caliban. Easier prey. And without Fluvium’s gemstone to wash off the heavenfire? Caliban was fair game.

“You want your sight back, monster?” Japheth demanded.

Caliban flopped uselessly. The fiery snakes were eating his skin. “Can’t see them. Let me seeeeee them!”

“Tell me where Fluvium’s lair is, and I’ll give you back your sight.” Japheth slapped his face. “Are you listening? I have that power. You know I do. Where’s Fluvium?”

“The park!” Caliban gibbered, drooling. They’d eaten through his cheek and were starting in on his tongue. “Central Park, near Bethesda. A coven gathering there. Just give me my eyeeees!”

“On your knees, hellshit.” Japheth kicked his kneecap. Caliban screamed and fell, and Japheth yanked his head back with a fistful of bloody hair. He’d promised. And he always kept his word.

Holy rage lit his feathers sky-blue.
For laying your hate-grimed fingers on her. For the look on her face when you touched her. For breathing the same air as her, you black-hearted freak.

“I didn’t say ‘eyes,’ moron,” he growled. “I said ‘sight.’ You want to see? Take a look at hell.” And he slammed his palm into the vampire’s forehead, and screamed his rage to heaven.

Blue light thundered, an ear-splitting echo of centuries-lost wrath. The walls shook and crumbled. The hellserpents shrieked bloody slaughter, and exploded in a hail of red.

Caliban shrieked, a blood-frothing nightmare erupting before his sightless eyes. And he kept on shrieking, while the heavenlight ate the flesh from his bones.

CHAPTER 16

Rose reeled, dizzy.
He’s killed the son of a swine. He’s really killed him.

Flames crawled higher, over the ceiling, the floor, along the opposite walls. Trapped humans yelled and hammered on the bars. Their bloodstink blinded her, and she struggled to resist. To focus on the unbelievable truth.
I’m not dead. Not torn apart. Not howling like a beast in a rain of blood.

I’m safe. Because of an angel.

And I’m really, desperately, fucking hungry. Oh, Jesus.

Drool slithered down her chin. Her body ached. She’d swallowed Caliban’s blood. Chosen blood, cursed by Fluvium himself. Vampire blood only made the longing worse. And nothing now would quench her thirst, except…

Her legs must have grown a life of their own, because she was sprinting towards the iron cages. Blind, tripping over her own ankles, skinning her knees on the concrete floor, but sprinting, drawn to her prey by hunger that tore her guts, by the ripe, rich, redolent scent of human blood.

The people were screaming. The sound wrapped around the pulse in her ears, caressed it, whipped it ever faster, into a frenzy of thirst. Pupils dilated with fear, mouths hanging
open, ragged hair and splitting lips and skin ripped with cruel hooks that stretched and tore…

A beastly howl erupted from her throat, and she hurled herself at the glowing hot iron bars. She scrabbled wildly for the locks, a gap, a way in. Heavenlight blinded her. Flames raked her face. She didn’t care. She didn’t feel the pain. Only the blood, forever and always…

Cool golden feathers swept her up, effortless, holding her tightly against a hard silver-metal chest plate. “Be still. I’ve got you.”

Deep within the bloodthirsty monster that had claimed her, Rose’s bruised human heart screamed for Japheth’s touch. The soothing brush of his wings, his comforting warmth. But the monster sneered, vengeful. Her angel wouldn’t save her from this. He had what he needed from her. Surely now, he’d send her crashing to hell.

“Get off me!” A shriek, some uncanny voice not her own. She fought him, thirst and fear clawing evilly in her belly. “I’m not your slave, angel,” she snarled. “Just go back to heaven and let me be.”

But Japheth’s big arms trapped her, unyielding like a hot-muscled cage. His heartbeat echoed in her chest, and her own pulse sprinted harder, but she couldn’t escape. “Peace, Rose Harley,” he murmured, and whispered a prayer, and his icy light crashed in to engulf them both.

*   *   *

Japheth flashed into his darkened apartment, Rose in his arms.

Shit. He hadn’t thought, hadn’t considered where to go. Just knew he had to get her out of there, away from those living bodies she craved. He could have chosen a thousand places in Babylon alone, yet…

His mirror-lined walls leered, hurling his reflection back at him like an accusation. Blood was clotting in his hair, trickling through his wings, the weeping burns of demonspawn knitting on his skin. Situation normal. But this bleeding, sweating, shivering
thing
he cradled in his arms…

That
wasn’t normal.

He strode inside, keeping his gaze down. He didn’t care much for mirrors. His reflection wasn’t something he liked to look at. But he made a point of it, every day. Just to be sure he could look himself in the eye.

Right now? Not a good time.

But averting his eyes from wall-to-wall mirrors just meant he was looking down at
her
. She shuddered against his chest, her wet hair plastered to his silver armor, lashes curling on her bloody cheekbones…

He swallowed, dry. Everywhere he looked, his mistakes glared back at him.

“Lights,” he ordered, and down lights bloomed, gleaming on the marble kitchenette, gloating over his black-lacquered piano. The floor-to-ceiling windows glinted, neon and car headlights from Madison Avenue twenty floors below. “Aircon, sixty-five degrees. And turn the humidity down.”

Rose muttered in his arms, delirious. Sweat ran on her face, soaked her hair. Her clothes were a clotted mess. She breathed shallowly, her breasts crushing against his chest. Her skin glowed with fever. She was burning, consumed by starvation and demonic need she couldn’t control.

Japheth shuddered, alive in all the wrong places. Sweet mercy, he could smell her, skin and sweat and salty female arousal. Her soft feminine moans as Caliban fed her still crawled in his memory, slithered into his blood and wouldn’t let go. That vampire’s foul hands roaming her body, tugging her t-shirt up, a glimpse of smooth ribs, her swelling breasts. Her fangs, so beautiful, curved and glittering sharp, slicing into Caliban’s flesh, her deep groan of relief as she sucked…

Christ almighty. How had he ever thought he could take it? To watch her suffer and writhe? He needed his bloody head examined. Watching this proud woman humiliate herself wasn’t penance. It was torture.

Well, now it was over, and here she lay, muttering in his embrace. And brutal indecision tore him in two.

What are you doing, Jae?
This time, the whisper in his head sounded suspiciously like Dashiel.
Why bring her to your place? You’ve got what you need from her. Kill her, and get on with the job.

He closed his eyes, blocking out those reproachful reflections. He knew where to hunt Fluvium now. Rose’s usefulness was ended. He should slit her pretty throat, leave her to burn…

But instinctively, his arms tightened around her, and guilt and sorrow mixed bitter absinthe in his heart.

He’d given her his word.

His stomach wrung cold. What a weak, pathetic thing a promise was. Just a blade’s bright flick, and it’d be done. He could get on with the business of demon slaying, and forget her. Scour these thrilling, delicious, disgusting hours from his mind. Frost his nerves cold, the way they should be, and never think of her again.

Never imagine her fingers crushing his feathers. Never dream of her tongue in his mouth, her breasts against his chest, her hair a rough silken temptation in his fist…

She shivered violently in his arms—so light, this female thing, despite her fighting strength—and he bit down savagely on his lip to focus his wits.

Kill her, hunt Fluvium down, win his redemption. Simple.

But his heart swelled, choking him with dumb, stubborn honor that cold common sense couldn’t rinse away.

He’d given her his word. He’d
promised
her.

And never say that Japheth of the Tainted won his way back to heaven with a trick.

But you already promised you’d lie to Gabriel
, his mental Dashiel argued.
Can’t have it both ways.

“That’s different.” He spoke aloud, and it echoed, stupid, mocking him. But it
was
different. He’d promised Michael ignorance, an honest shrug when pressed for information. Not a barefaced untruth…

So don’t kill her, if it makes you feel better.
Dash’s imagined scorn stung.
You’re an idiot, for what it’s worth, but it’s not too late. Dump her in an alleyway and forget her, before you do something even more monumentally stupid.

“Too bloody late for that,” Japheth muttered. Heaven, his head ached. And now he was talking to himself. When had this gotten so damned complicated?

A good plan, right? Return her to the Village where he’d found her, scorch away his Tainted mark. Wash his hands of her, like Pilate on that windswept stone balcony in Jerusalem.

But her fever-soaked body trembled in his arms. Her scent enveloped him, her pulse fluttering like a wounded bird’s against his chest, and that primitive male creature inside him growled like a stubborn guard dog and wouldn’t let him pass.