Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga) (139 page)

Lucifer
showed
him what he meant. He had wiped out the Seraphim like a man pouring boiling oil down a nest of ants, no mercy, none had escaped. They sat, crouched in the grasses together, eyes locked, until Jamin shook off the image. It was a softer image which Lucifer projected next. Ninsianna, heavy with child, her demeanor, submissive. Only this time, it was
his
child she carried. Jamin tried to attach an emotion in the image. To love her. To hate her. But he no longer possessed the will...

"You don't want her anymore?" Lucifer's voice lilted with surprise.

"If you handed her to me I would not refuse her," Jamin shrugged. He stared at the lion. "But no, not really. She hurt me, and there is no way I'd ever let that woman back into my heart."

"I could kill her for you," Lucifer laughed. "Just think how your enemy will react with
that
news? That you've killed his mate?"

"No," Jamin said.

"But isn't it what you've always wanted?" Lucifer asked. "To watch him suffer?"

"I want Ninsianna to love me," Jamin said. "But she never will. I've learned to accept it, and I'm ready to move on."

Lucifer caressed his cheek, a lover's touch.

"You … don't fear me."

"Should I?"

"Yes."

"I've lost everything," Jamin shrugged. "If I die today, nobody will mourn my loss."

Lucifer's voice cracked.

"I know what it's like to be betrayed by a woman. They are evil creatures. Out to castrate us and turn us into herd animals."

"I thought you were only recently married," Jamin said.

Lucifer retreated back behind the twin, glossy mirrors of his eerie silver eyes. The vulnerability disappeared, replaced by the ruthless conqueror of worlds.

"Go and kill that lion for me, little chieftain," Lucifer said. "For I want to see it. And then we shall go attend a party."

"With a knife?" Jamin asked.

"With your bare hands if you could."

Jamin pushed the image of him strangling a lion out of his mind.

"I'm not that strong," Jamin said. "But I will kill him with a knife. Just for you."

He lay down his spear and unclipped his pulse rifle from his belt to lay it on the ground next to Lucifer. Hunting lions was a sacred act, one which required meeting the lion claw-to-claw. He pulled the golden knife Lucifer had given him, and then crept closer.

The lion's head jerked around, alerted by the rustling of grasses. In this hunt, the lion had every advantage except for one. Although the creatures were smart, humans were smarter, and Jamin was a better hunter than most …
when
he didn't get cocky like he'd done the day he'd gotten gored by the auroch.

The creature stared at him with its beautiful, golden eyes, two males who were both used to being the kings of their dominions. One of the things that had always attracted him to Ninsianna was her tawny-beige eyes, the eyes of a lioness, even before she'd been
Chosen
by She-who-is. Everything about the lion had been designed to kill, but with that strength came one single weakness. Lions were used to hunting men, and not the other way around.

Jamin's nostrils flared, sucking in the life-giving air, praying to the goddess who no longer heeded him to give him strength. In the eyes of his village, he was already cast out and dead. If he died today it would be a good death, an honorable death, a noble death. If he died today, perhaps it would inspire Lucifer to be merciful to his people?

He felt Lucifer enter his mind, eager to experience the kill

His heart sped up.

His muscles exploded as he sprinted towards the lion.

The lion roared.

He closed the distance, his knife held out in front like a sharp claw.

The lion wheeled to face him and bared its fangs.

Jamin darted at the last minute to the right, and then leaped forward again, aiming his knife straight for the creature's ribcage.

The lion batted at him with his enormous claws. Jamin danced out of the way. The claws caught on the calf of his cargo pants and nearly tripped him. Jamin yelped as claw met flesh, but it was a grazing wound, and he tugged free before the lion could knock him down.

The lion ran after him.

Jamin turned to face him.

The lion did not stop.

Jamin waited, and then veered to his left. The lion passed so close he felt its whiskers brush his arm.

The lion stumbled, momentarily clumsy as it turned.

Jamin gripped his knife ready for an upwards thrust. This was it. Either he would kill the lion. Or the lion would kill him.

"Come, lion," Jamin whispered. "Come and give to me your heart."

The lion was the king of these grasses, king of the beasts, and king of the men who forever lived in fear of his pride. The king did what kings always did whenever a lesser lion came up to it and tried to prick it with a petty claw. The lion reared up, determined to tear his head off with its powerful jaws.

Jamin sprang forward, into the lion's embrace.

The lion's arms closed around him, pulling him closer, pulling him to his death. The lion embraced him, so close it could no longer effectively use its claws.

Soft fur brushed against his face. He pressed his ear against the lion's chest, so close he could hear its heart beat. The soft, musky scent of the lion, so powerful, so male, filled his senses as the lions fangs missed his head and bit into his shoulder.

Ecstatic pain wrenched his shoulder-joint. Teeth. Fangs. Death. He slid his hand down the powerful, rippling muscles, down the soft golden fur to the creature's abdomen, a sensitive spot only a lioness could reach.

The lion tore a chunk of flesh out of his shoulder.

"Hiyeah!" Jamin shouted. He thrust the knife upwards, through the creature's abdomen, straight up into its heart.

The lion roared with agony and tried to pull away.

"Come, lion," Jamin whispered. "I wish for you to be mine."

He shoved his knife as hard as he could, still locked in a deadly embrace as the lion fell on top of him.

The creature bit him again, but this time, there was little strength to its bite. It held onto him, still locked together in their lethal dance, as Jamin buried his fist into its diaphragm.

The lion screamed. Its breath grew jagged as the knife found its heart, and then it breathed no more.

Jamin extricated himself from his slain lover, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side. His blood spilled onto its golden pelt, mingling with the lion's blood. He kneeled at its head and placed his hand over the creature's forehead.

"Thank you, brother, for giving to me your strength," Jamin said.

The tall grasses swam before his eyes.

Hands touched him from the rear and gently lay him down upon the ground. Eerie silver eyes stared into his, but behind them was a warm, golden flame.

"You are injured," the Devourer of Children said.

"My price for freedom was a lion," Jamin shuddered in pain. "I gave it to you. Now it is time to let me go."

"Never," Lucifer whispered.

Lucifer closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his eyes were no longer silver, but fiery red, the creature Jamin had sensed lurked beneath the surface all along.

"This will hurt," Lucifer said.

Pain burned into his shoulder. Jamin screamed. He passed out. When he awoke again, he was in a primitive round hut, and judging by the slant of the sun shining through the window, most of the day had passed him by. Lucifer sat on a rickety wooden stool. His wings drooped wearily towards the ground, and he looked like a man who lingered at the brink of death.

"Leave us," Lucifer said to the two cold-eyed Angelic guards who perpetually followed him about.

Jamin met his gaze. Whatever stared back at him, he sensed it no longer wished to hide from him.

"What are you?" Jamin asked.

"I am the alpha and the omega," it said. "It is I who created the forces which underlay All-That-Is, and as my thanks, my wife betrayed me. She stripped me of my physical form and left me a fragment of my prior self."

What stared out of those fiery red eyes terrified him, but all of his life choices had led him to this, to embrace the origins of fire.

And he was not afraid…

He realized his shoulder no longer bled. The pain had subsided, leaving him with only fang-marks to mar his flesh, the scar completely healed.

"I left you with a trophy," Lucifer said. "To mark your bravery."

Jamin sat up and flexed his shoulder. Full range of motion had been restored, not just from this injury, but from the earlier one where Aturdokht had shot him. Lucifer looked like he had aged three dozen years overnight. No. Not aged. His skin had a bluish, papery appearance about it even though it was free from wrinkles, his feathers had become listless and dull, and his hand trembled like a much older man. He appeared as though the very life-force had been sucked out of his body.

"You don't look well," Jamin said.

"Healing you cost me," Lucifer said. "My powers are limited by the abilities of my mortal vessel."

"You are not Lucifer," Jamin said.

"Lucifer is a descendant," the creature said. "And not a very worthy one. When I finish with him, I will take up another. It is only a matter of waiting for the next vessel to mature."

He realized Lucifer had left the knife lying next to him on the table, still stained with the lion's blood.

"I could kill you," Jamin said.

"Yes."

"It wouldn't matter if I killed you, would it?" Jamin said.

"No. I am older than the universe itself."

"Why did you heal me if it weakened you?"

"It has been a long time since I sensed a kindred spirit," Lucifer said. The deep, bluish sockets of his eyes reflected the flames which emanated from his irises, giving him the appearance of a corpse. "It gets lonely, being the only one of your kind."

"Will healing me kill you?" Jamin asked.

"No," Lucifer said. "I shall feed, and then I shall heal my vessel."

"You already fed," Jamin said. "When you watched me kill the lion. Didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And you wasted that strength to heal me?"

"Yes, but it takes far more energy to heal the fragile, mortal vessel of another. Possession exacts a heavy price upon the possessed. I must feed upon the life energy of many just to keep this vessel alive."

"Do you need me to kill another lion?" Jamin asked.

Lucifer gave him a weak grin.

"In case you haven't notice, it cost me more to heal you than I received."

"Then why did you do it?" Jamin asked.

Lucifer gestured to a group of women who had been bound and gagged, tied up into the corner. There were thirteen of them, fair-haired, fair-skinned, people from the lands far north of Anatolia.

"I have brought you a gift," Lucifer said. "A gift which will give me what I need."

"Who are they?" Jamin asked. The chill in the air was different from the climate where he had just killed the lion. It was cold in this house, with a roaring fire to keep it warm.

"Don't you recognize them?" Lucifer asked.

"No."

"Look again, little chieftain," Lucifer said.

Jamin walked over to the females. His eyes played tricks on him, because every single one of them looked like Ninsianna.

"This isn't real," Jamin said.

"Isn't it?" Lucifer said. "Tell me, little chieftain. What do you dream of when you dream of Ninsianna?"

"I have let her go," Jamin said.

"Have you?" Lucifer said. "When I bedded Shahla, I peeked into her mind. And do you know what she showed me?"

"What?"

He beat her. He beat her because she was willing, but she was not the woman he wanted. He took her. He took her rough. He rammed his cock into her and roared in anger and grief as he'd fucked her and beaten her and closed his hands around her throat and squeezed her just hard enough that she'd grown fearful and fought to get away. And as he had spilled his seed into her, his eyes had rolled up into his head and he'd whispered Ninsianna's name…

Jamin gasped as the experience poured into his loins and made him harden. Anger. Rage. Ecstasy. Grief. Tears sprang into his eyes. In that moment, he had been blindsided by news of Ninsianna's betrothal to Mikhail, and he had acted badly; he'd taken it out on somebody who hadn't deserved it.

"Stop it," Jamin said. "I told Shahla I was sorry."

"But you
weren't
sorry, were you?"

"I am sorry that I hurt Shahla."

"But are you sorry for the fantasy?" Lucifer asked. His expression was hungry, his smirk bemused. There was no point in telling him anything less than the truth.

"No."