Redemption (A NOVEL OF THE SEVEN SIGNS) (41 page)

“Lovely,” he remarked. “Here you go, Bridie. Run along and play in the pond I made you.”

“You’re sick,” Japheth growled. “At least have the balls to do it yours—”

“Shut up.” Fluvium’s tone was mild, but white-hot sparks spat from his fingers as he lifted the girl gently to the floor. “Off you go, sweetie.”

“Where’s my pond?” Bridie said eagerly, waving the vial in her little fist. Fluvium’s spells shielded her, too. A few golden drops splashed, and sizzled holes in the floor.

“Oh, did I forget? My mistake.” Fluvium strode over to the array of pipes, and slammed his fist into the steel.

Demonspells crackled. The metal buckled, and shattered. Water burst out, drenching Fluvium in a powerful spray that hit the ceiling and showered left and right.

Somewhere, an alarm screeched. Fluvium ducked beneath the fountain, jammed his hand into the hole and tore the cracked steel apart.

The pressure eased. Water flowed fast, bubbling onto the bloody floor. “There you go, darling.” He lifted Bridie onto the pipe, her little legs swinging. “And remember what I said. A little at a time. Don’t waste it. Otherwise the pretty magic won’t work.” He kissed her cheek. “You want the pretty magic to work, don’t you?”

Rose’s bones crunched cold. “No. Don’t make her…”

Bridie grinned, toothy, and tipped up the vial.

Wind shrieked in righteous protest, blowing Rose off balance. But it just whipped the evil bonfire higher. Japheth whispered
something.
God help us,
or
the Lord is my shepherd.
Or maybe
fuck you, Rose Harley.
She couldn’t hear.

Thick black liquid globbed from the vial’s neck, and dribbled into the pipe.

And the spilling water turned to blood.

Fresh, thick, crimson. The magic bubbled and spat, licking the blood with gleeful black flames. And like a writhing, living thing, the liquid sucked itself back into the pipe and rushed downstream, towards the thirsty city.

The bonfire screeched in triumph. Flames billowed, pouring black smoke, and the air lit bright with hungry hellfire that snapped and writhed.

Rose coughed on acid grit. Japheth hissed in pain as the snaky hellthings chewed his skin. He lashed out with heavenspells, but the creatures swarmed over him, flinging him backwards, pinning his limbs to the wall like living shackles of fire.

Fluvium laughed. Fresh power glowed from his body, surrounding him in a howling aura of devilmagic. “Hah-
oooh
!” His exultant yell clanged louder with each echo, an eldritch curse. “Just like turning water into wine, except better. That Jesus dude always did lack imagination. Whaddaya think, Rose? A good joke?”

Bridie splashed her hands into the gushing blood. “I’m hungry,” she repeated. “When can we eat?”

You unleashed this, Rose. What price getting this genie back into its bottle?
She gripped Japheth’s knife tighter. “You’ve got your angel, Fluvium. Now give me Bridie.”

Fiery hellcreatures squirmed over Japheth’s body. It had to hurt like a motherfucker, but he just shook his head, and gave her a weary
told-you-so
smile.

Fluvium grinned.

Rose tensed, her heart pumping…and Fluvium struck, serpentine.

Not for Japheth. For her.

His iron grip chomped around her wrist. She struggled, but her heart sank into chilly depths of despair. Ever since that first night, he’d been too strong for her.

“Sit the fuck down,” he ordered, and threw her onto the floor.

Her injured leg thumped sickly. She tried to scramble up, but her limbs were pinned to the floor, sticky black hellspells like an evil spider’s web.

And Fluvium strode up to Japheth, and smiled. “Enough screwing around, heavenshit. Let’s get it on.”

*   *   *

Crazily, Japheth laughed.

He couldn’t remember ever screwing up quite this badly. Getting Tainted? That was nothing.
Michael’s gonna tear my skin off, layer by layer. I’ll bleed slowly to death, and miss the end of the world. Bummer.

“Bring it on.” He growled, and spat a heavencurse, the foulest he could muster.

A flameball exploded in Fluvium’s face. His skin dripped, flesh melting over bone…but he just snarled, and shook himself, and his skin repaired with a black-smoked hiss.

“Don’t do that,” he snapped. “It’s not nice.”

Japheth strained his burning muscles, trying to rip his living shackles free. No use. Ragespells, they were, and they fed on his own deep-seated anger. Heaven knew, he had enough to feed an army.

He tried to flash weapons, sword, dagger, another ball of heavenspell. But the fiery demon serpents just chewed up his magic and spat it out in bleeding shards.

Pain sheeted, blinding him.
Holy Jesus. Let it flow, keep it in.
He couldn’t give them the advantage of his weakness.

But Rose lay bruised and broken, stuck to the floor with black webs. It took all he had not to swallow that stinking ragefire, succumb to temptation and rip Fluvium’s head off with his teeth.

The roaring flames and fighting hellspells deafened him. Blood gurgled in the pipes, drawn deep underground, the pressure forcing the cursed liquid faster and faster.

And little Bridie just smiled.

“Pay attention!” Fluvium backhanded him across the jaw. “I’m disappointed in you, Tainted. All you had to do was fuck her, and she would’ve taken care of the rest! A bite here, a suck there and you’re done. Hell of a way to go out, let me tell you.
Did you know she can do the splits? And those titties…” He fanned himself. “Hoo boy. Four words, my friend:
fuck of the century
.”

Japheth snapped at his face, missing by inches. “Don’t talk about her like that, scumlicker. Don’t even dirty her name with your hell-rotted tongue.”

“Oh, I’ve dirtied more than that.” Fluvium twirled a lock of flaming purple hair. “You could have been there. But no, you had to do it the hard way. Fucking angels. Always a pain in my ass.” He yanked Japheth’s chin up. “Put him on his knees,” he ordered.

Burning spells dug molten spikes into his limbs, tearing at his joints until he relented and sank to his knees. Dizzy black stars flashed in his eyes. Sweet Jesus, he was going to pass out. The pain was like nothing he’d known…

“Leave him be!” Rose struggled against her ethereal bonds. “You got what you wanted. Just kill us and get it over w—ukh!”

An ashcloud hit her in the face, choking her silent.

Fluvium licked Japheth’s cheekbone, gloating. “I think I like you like this. Do you beg, angel? Do you plead for your miserable life?”

“Not bloody likely.”

“They all say that. They’re all wrong. Tell me, when Michael cast you down, did you scream for mercy?”

A bitter spark of amusement pierced the pain. Oh, he’d screamed, all right. But not for mercy.

Across the room, Bridie clapped her bloody hands. “Can we, Daddy? Can we make him?”

“Soon, darling,” Fluvium murmured. “Be patient. Because I can be, angel. I can be very patient indeed.”

Japheth gritted bleeding teeth. Too much to hope that Fluvium would simply kill him. And it already hurt so much he could barely breathe.

But torture was good. Pain, he could handle. Easier than the bewildered agony in his heart.

The world was ending. The vampire curse would consume the city. And all he could think about was the bleeding woman on the floor.

Clarity dazzled him like sunshine. Would he truly let them all die to save her?

In a heartbeat.

Everything he’d feared about himself was true. And he didn’t give a damn.

“Try me,” he spat. “I’ll die before I ask you for anything.”

“They all say that, too!” Fluvium hopped on one foot, delighted, but then he frowned. “Actually, no. Most of them say
oh, God, yes!
or
harder!
or
don’t stop, please, don’t stop!
But that’s before we get to the good part. You remember, don’t you, Rose?”

“Screw you,” Rose spluttered. “Hope your dick rots off.”

Evil images shimmered of Rose, pinned to the bed, choking on Fluvium’s blood… “Try that with me and you’ll die in pieces,” Japheth hissed.

Fluvium laughed, his teeth smoking. “Never mind, angel. You’re not my type. All those feathers make me sneeze. And besides”—he planted a stinging kiss on Japheth’s lips—“I’ve already figured out your weakness, lover boy. Want to test it?”

And he bared cruel barbed teeth, and slashed them into his own wrist.

Black blood dribbled over his hand, thick with corruption, and with a gloating grin, he held the wound over Japheth’s face.

Blood dripped, and soaked his cheek, and burned.

God, it was disgusting. The stink sickened him. His skin melted, bubbled, desperately healing itself and burning again. He fought to escape, to avert his face. But the demon’s spells twined smoky fingers of malice in his hair, rooting him to the spot.

Fluvium smeared his bloody wrist against Japheth’s lips. He cocked his silver six-gun with his other thumb, and jammed the barrel up under the angel’s chin. “Drink it, angel. You know you want to.”

Rose yelled again, struggling furiously. “Japheth, for God’s sake. Spit it out!”

Dizzy, Japheth clamped his lips tight. They blistered, crackling. Christ, this was worse than the fountain. Worse
than any other torture Fluvium’s sick imagination could invent.

Because he knew what was coming.

And Fluvium knew it, too. He could see the triumphant fire in the demon’s eyes, the sexual pleasure flexing his muscles tight. The Prince of Thirst delighted in pain.

But he delighted in damnation more.

“Say it, angel,” Fluvium’s smile glittered, exultant. His pulse beat an evil rhythm against Japheth’s lips. “Beg for my blood. Implore me to own your miserable soul. Or I swear on Satan’s sweet vengeance, I’ll eat both of your little bitch-whores right before your eyes, and drag them with me to hell.”

*   *   *

The blood ate into Japheth’s face. His lungs howled for air. The pain minced his reason…

But shining truth blazed in his heart.
It’s over. The Sign is done. You lose. Simple choice, Jae. Let Rose die.

Or let her live.

Baleful heavenflame howled through his veins. Everything he’d been created for screamed at him to stop.
You’re ours. You can’t. You won’t
…

Icy determination set like diamonds, unbreakable.
You cast me out, remember? You made me what I am. I can. And I will.

Wrath shredded his veins, a swift and terrible threat.
Do this, and you’ll never come back.

The awful truth stabbed his heart like a demon’s sword, and fourteen hundred years of poisoned self-hatred gushed out to drown him.

I don’t care.

I don’t belong there. I don’t want to go back. Not now. Not ever.

Dreamy, he let his jaw relax. Softened his aching mouth. Licked his blood-soaked lips.

The acid stung his tongue, liquid fire. Coppery air rushed into his lungs, caustic with hellflame. It tasted good.

It tasted like freedom.

And he shut away the distant screaming in his heart—easy,
after so many years of frosty denial—and speared Fluvium on a ghastly grin.

“Please,” he gasped. “I beg you. I want your blood. Give it to me.”

And Fluvium laughed, an awful black chuckle straight from the pit, and let the blood spill.

Hellflame filled his mouth, dark and sweet, hunger and desire and passion and everything he’d spent his life pretending he didn’t feel. Violet flame licked his wings, and his feathers sparkled electric. His muscles burned with unholy power. Already, the glory in his blood faded, screaming, eaten alive by some blacker, more beautiful magic.

Japheth shuddered, exultant. Light erupted, a shimmering ultraviolet shockwave, echoing in the iron room like a hell-forged bell. It felt right. It felt…good.

He gulped, meaty blood spilling down his chin, and drank.

And drank.

And drank some more.

CHAPTER 37

Jadzia shuddered, sweating cold, and gazed down upon hell.

Dead monks littered the prayer room floor. Limbs spread-eagled, splintered bones thrusting through flesh. Guts torn open, ribs split apart to expose torn hearts. Weapons scattered, here a crossbow, there the melted remains of a sword.