Redemption (A NOVEL OF THE SEVEN SIGNS) (22 page)

CHAPTER 19

“Because you don’t deserve to die like that.”

An angry retort clogged in Rose’s throat.

Not
you disgust me, hellspawn
or
go to hell
or
damn you to endless torment for your sins, witch.

Because you don’t deserve to die.

Her eyes dazzled, and she shivered in the warm water. God, he was beautiful, bathed in that soft golden shimmer. Those wild green eyes, his hair tangled, his feathers glimmering with tiny rainbows. Water trickled down his bare arms, over his wrists, glinted on his sharp cheekbones. But shock drew his face white. He looked like the ghost of Jesus Christ himself had just screamed some horrible secret in his ear, and her heart ached for his sorrow. She wanted to hold him, stroke that golden hair, murmur worthless promises that everything would be okay.

But he was a merciless demonslayer who hated everything about her. A trick. It had to be. That candid sympathy in his eyes couldn’t be real. If she showed weakness? He’d just snarl, stab her with some sarcastic remark, leave her alone with her guilt.

“Bull
shit.
” She slapped her palm on the mixer, and the
water ceased, leaving her cold and wet. “What’s the catch? Since when does an angel feed a starving vampire?”

“No catch. Just good sense. After Caliban gave you all that…well, you were…” He fidgeted. “I had to feed you or you’d die. I didn’t do it for fun.”

“Yeah, right.” She laughed, bitter. “At least Caliban was an honest sadist. You’re the worst kind of asshole, you know that? You know I can’t be saved and you’re just rubbing it in.”

But Japheth didn’t flare up. “Think what you like.”

The dark, unwanted truth in his gaze assaulted her, and she trembled. The night Bridie died, she’d sobbed, screamed, slashed at herself in punishment, but the horrid vampire skin had healed and she’d just screamed harder in terror. And then she’d fallen on her face in a bloody mess, and prayed.

She’d never really believed in God. Sure, maybe something was out there, but the kind of God who intervened in people’s daily lives? Not happening. But that night, in Fluvium’s evil-soaked bed, she’d had her mind irrevocably changed.

The demon had ripped her soul open, hurled her screaming into the fiery chasm of truth. And she’d believed, with every cursed fiber of her heart. She’d begged, implored, sworn herself to God’s eternal service, and she’d meant every bloodstained word…if He’d only undo what she’d done.

Faith was enough, the preachers said. She’d seen it on enough billboards and newsfeeds to know that. Religious mutters had crawled out of the woodwork since the Apocalypse hit, if they ever really were in the woodwork, what with the gangs of zealots who roamed the streets and the fundamentalist lunatics in city hall and the White House.
Believe in me, and you’ll never die
, they said.
You shall know the truth, and the truth will make you free.

What a vicious lie.

And now this Tainted angel was joking about it. While she was weak, her head aching to explode, her body still shuddering with the remnants of her vile hunger.

Angrily, she scraped wet hair from her face, but it only stung her with memories of his touch. He’d stroked her gently, cleaning her, easing the clotted tangles free. How long since
anyone had touched her like that? For a dream-sweet moment, she’d relaxed into his arms, enjoying his warm silver breastplate against her cheek, the dark male scent of his wet feathers, still coffee and spice but somehow…earthy. Even
human
.

Her bare feet itched, indignant. He’d touched her while she was vulnerable. Ambushed her personal space while she was off-guard, and damn it to the foulest pits of hell if she hadn’t
liked
it.

She wrenched water from her hair. “Don’t do me any more favors, okay? I didn’t ask for your help and I don’t need it.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Go to hell.” But her voice faded, breathless. He was so close. She wanted more of that gentle touch. Her skin still crawled in memory of Caliban’s evil caress, and she wanted it gone.

His wings sparked, and static arced on the wet wall. Her skin tingled. What was that, anger? Embarrassment? Regret, even?

She didn’t care. She felt all of those things and it didn’t help one bit. She just wanted the past twelve hours to dissolve, like the horrid nightmare it was.

Her guts still twisted into painful knots, the tension in her muscles unbearable. Her whole body ached like fire, longing for contact, any contact to banish those evil sensations. Her lips were raw, stinging. God, she wanted him to kiss her. The fresh taste of him, hot and male and spiced with danger, his smooth lips taking hers, the hot demanding sweep of his tongue… So clean. So fresh. The heady flavor of absolution…

Impulsively, she edged closer, into his eerie wing glow. It sparkled over her, beauty and grace sinking deep. She shivered, goose bumps prickling. Maybe it was a spell. Maybe he was pouring on the holy-crap euphoria to test her. She didn’t care. It felt so…innocent, passionate. So good, she quivered, melting inside like warm honey.

Unholy hell. If this is what heaven’s like? Sign me up, baby.

Japheth’s eyes shone brighter. His arms clenched, muscles tight…but he didn’t back off. “Rose. Listen. I…”

“Don’t talk.” Daring, she stroked one finger along the rough silken edge of his wing. Her fingertip sparkled. So soft, yet steely. Delicate, yet…lethal.

His feathers quivered taut at her touch. She slipped her finger further into the layers. The crisp plumes tickled her palm.

He clenched his jaw, so hard it popped. “You don’t understand. This isn’t what you think. We can’t…oh, shit.”

She sank all four fingers and thumb in deep, and
squeezed
. Yeah, baby. She’d wanted to do that since the moment she’d laid eyes on him, and his reaction made the wait worth it.

He growled—yeah, like an animal, and if that wasn’t the sexiest damn thing she’d ever heard—and his aura flashed scarlet like sin. “Careful.”

Boldly, she burrowed her fingers deeper. “Stop me if you don’t like it—oh!”

The tiled wall thudded against her back. He crushed her with his massive body, and wrapped those gilded feathers over her, both threat and caress. “I didn’t say,” he murmured, with a dark edge that flushed her faint, “that I didn’t
like
it.”

He stroked her cheek with his knuckles. His big thigh pressed between hers, coaxing her to open for him. Her breasts ached against his armor. Such a brutal creature, her angel, hard and rigid all over, silver and muscle and bone…

Rose’s head whirled, drunk, and all thoughts of resisting fled. She’d decided long ago that she’d have him. It was just a matter of when.

And now seemed like a fucking good time.

And what will you do then?
Fluvium’s slick compulsion wriggled inside her like a worm.
You owe me an angel’s soul, Rose. Don’t forget that, while you’re getting all breathless and moany. Take his blood. Feed him yours. This dirty nectarlicker is mine
…

Japheth rubbed his cheekbone on hers, with a slow purr-growl that thrilled her. His hair tickled her face, drowning her with his deadly fragrance, sweetness and steel.

Screw Fluvium. This one’s for me.

She stretched up on tiptoes, searching. “Kiss me.”

“No.” But his body strained, his chest heaving…

“Hell, yes.” She caught him, just a tiny brush of lips, and he jerked tighter against her, helpless. “You want to. Forget all this for once. We’re the same, you and me…” She eased against him, tempting him, squeezing his thigh between hers—oh yes, right there, fuck, he felt so good—and leaned up to glide her lips across his.

CHAPTER 20

He recoiled.

Just an inch. But it shattered Rose’s dream like glass.

Her head pounded. He didn’t want to kiss her. Didn’t like touching her. She’d just swallowed a gutful of fresh human blood. She probably tasted like a slaughterhouse. Disgusting. He’d spit at her, be sick, push her away like the soiled demontrash he thought she was.

Heat rushed from her belly to the top of her head, scorching everything it found on the way. He was just a man like all the rest. He let his dick do his thinking. She was a woman, he was horny, end of story.

To think she’d imagined he wanted
her
.

He’d even tried to trick her with all that bullshit about not deserving to die. Just a
pick-up line
, for fuck’s sake. And now his hands were finally on her, he’d gotten squeamish about the blood and freaked out.

She’d actually thought he meant it. And she’d been ready to abandon her mission—or at least postpone it—so she could be with him. She’d risked her life—her chance to escape eternal torment—and it was all a lie.

But Japheth doesn’t lie. You know that
…

Rage lit through her like a flashburn. “You know what? I changed my mind. I’d rather have the corpse, if it’s all the same to you.”

*   *   *

Japheth staggered backwards, his shredded thoughts obliterated by his thudding heartbeat.

So close.

He had had her in his hands. Feathers on her skin, her scent in his mouth, all thoughts of sin burned to ash. This magnificent woman assaulted his reason, swamping his senses until his world drowned in wanting her.

And then he’d frozen. Not guilt or disgust. Just witless confusion. No idea what to do next.

He’d always just…used them. Taken what he wanted, just as they’d used him. Never mind that it had been centuries since he’d even touched a woman. Longer since he’d done it for its own sake, just to make her feel good.

And he deeply, madly, hungrily wanted to pleasure this one.

But all he knew was how to get it done. How to get it over with for both of them. Quick, breathless release, a few minutes’ work and everyone’s happy. That was what he was good at.

Not long, slow, torturous sighs, the kind of lovemaking that lasted for hours.

Not that it mattered. She’d clearly come to her senses. And now she glared at him like he’d just crawled from a demon’s dung heap.

Sweet heaven’s mercy. A demon’s slave, looking at
him
with disgust. He needed his bloody head examined.

He backed off, slipping on wet tiles. Bloodstained water puddled everywhere. His reflection in the vanity mirror glared at him, edged with bright malice. His feathers still stung, aroused. He tried to slick them back, but they wouldn’t subside, any more than his straining erection would subside. Nope, he’d be carrying that one around for a good hour, if he was lucky…

Mind on the job, soldier.
He sucked in a lungful, fighting to cool his blood. He had a corpse in his living room. A demon prince to hunt, once the sun slipped down. And a vampire in
his bathroom, who he was responsible for. Who needed…stuff, like girls needed. The kind of stuff he didn’t keep on hand.

He’d made this mess. Time to clean it up.

“Stay here,” he said coldly. Both gratifying and scary, how easily he could slip his icy cloak over the seething heat inside. “Take a shower. Towels are in the press. I’ll get you something fresh to wear.”