The Naphil's Kiss (19 page)

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Authors: Simone Beaudelaire

BOOK: The Naphil's Kiss
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He stumbled, going down hard on the hot sand, and Lilith was on him in a moment, her fangs extending. This time she would tear out his angel throat.

She gagged as something sharp embedded in the inside of her wide-open mouth. Reaching in, she pulled out a steel throwing star. She looked up and saw that same white-clad figure who'd interfered with this kill before. This time, though, the mask was gone, revealing the pretty face of a girl. There was something strange about the taste of the young woman's energy. It tasted like… She flicked her tongue into the air. It tasted like Josiah. Lilith ground her teeth in rage. This was the one, the one who had stolen her prize. Another star flew at Lilith, and she dodged.

Once again, she'd forgotten Sarahi. The intrepid succubus rushed her mother from behind, sinking claws into her back, digging for her spine. Lilith roared and pulled her daughter off her, throwing her across the desert, before stalking after her.

A tall figure approached the fallen succubus and helped Sarahi to her feet.

“Josiah,” Lilith hissed, “get away from her.”

“She's my mother,” he gritted out between his teeth.

“And she abandoned you as an infant! She deserves nothing from you. None of them do. They all hated and feared you for what you are. They never let you be yourself. Only I did.”

“You let me wallow in my basest urges. That's not love, it's temptation. I want no more of it.”

“I didn't force it on you, you sought me out. It was what you wanted!”

“It was,” he agreed, “but it isn't anymore. Annie!”

As Lilith watched, a cord of cloudy steel-gray energy shot past her. She turned, seeing it connect to the white-clad girl, who lit up like the sun. In the purity of her diamond clean aura, the dirty-looking energy turned to pure silver.

“Lucien,” Annie called, shooting a bolt of it to the Naphil, who caught it in one outstretched hand. He illuminated like a piece of thin obsidian with a light shining behind it.

“Sarahi,” Lucien shouted. Lilith whirled and saw her daughter begin to sparkle like a chunk of rose quartz in sunlight. Suddenly, the delicate succubus seemed taller and stronger.

“Never come between a mother and her child,” Sarahi said, holding her claws out threateningly, as she stood between her son and the demon who had given birth to her.

Lilith surged forward across the sand, ready to tear her daughter limb from limb. She reached out both hands and grasped… nothing. Sarahi had dodged her again, rolling to the side. She turned, following the movement, determined to rid herself of her long-standing mistake once and for all. Sarahi surged to her feet and Lilith struck out, but the angle was wrong. The girl had rushed her, and instead of sinking claws into Sarahi's unguarded belly, she only managed to knock her off her feet. Lilith drew her arm back, preparing to finish the job, but she was distracted once again. A sharp pain flared in her back. In her rage, she had forgotten about Lucien. The angel had circled behind her and driven his sword into her spine. She roared, a hissing shriek that sounded like steam escaping from a kettle. Another stab and Lilith doubled over against excruciating pain in her abdomen. Sarahi had risen to her knees and sunk her claws upwards into the demoness's belly, scrabbling behind her ribs, trying to reach her heart. A strange buzzing, like a hive full of bees, sounded in her ears. It was the thoughts of her daughters, and her drones, all chattering and murmuring at the same time.

Another movement snared Lilith's vision. Before her, that damned girl was standing watching her. Those brown eyes glittered, cold and merciless as topaz in the desert sunset as she raised a pistol, pointing it directly at Lilith's skull from close range.

She saw rather than heard the full lips form the words “Josiah is mine.” And then she watched the finger squeeze the trigger. A white light flashed and Lilith's black aura closed in on her, covering the world in darkness.

Chapter 22

From his position trapped against the trunk of the scrubby tree, Moses Smith watched the desperate fight between his former mistress and his family. The four of them, working in tandem, sharing their strength, had achieved the impossible. Lucien severed Lilith's spine from behind as Sarahi pulled out a throbbing morsel of flesh, which she clutched in blood-soaked fingers. At that very second, his own precious granddaughter finished the job with a perfect head shot. Unable to overcome the three mortal injuries, the demoness exploded. Whereas her succubae burst into golden dust, Lilith's combustion resembled the force of a volcanic eruption, and the detritus of the blast, oily black ash, showered over the battlefield. Stunned by the destruction of their leader, the succubae fled. Drones stumbled after them, leaving their wounded and dead among the surviving Nephilim and Clerics. The battle was over. The powers of light had won.

Moses watched awareness dawn on the faces of the men he had known and led. As one they began cheering, hugging one another and jumping up and down in delight. He smiled. But why was he still trapped? Why had Lilith's energy net not dispersed with her death? No matter. Someone would find him soon enough. For now, he was content to watch. The bonds of energy which connected Naphil, succubus, incubus, and Assassin winked out and Sarahi collapsed to the ground. The poor girl had taken the brunt of the blast, being so close to Lilith when she was destroyed. Lucien also crumpled slowly onto his back. Further away, Annie and Josiah staggered but managed to keep their feet. They stood motionless for a long moment before running to one another. The boy caught her up and twirled her around, crushing her in his arms and kissing her. Then, hand-in-hand, they approached the prone figures of Josiah's parents. The light flared around the younger couple and Annie knelt, laying her hand on Lucien's chest. There was a brief surge of light, and then he took a deep breath and sat up. Annie moved on to Sarahi, pulsing healing energy into Josiah's mother. She stirred but didn't wake. Annie pulsed her energy a second time and drew back, shaking her head. Lucien scooted over to his wife and gathered her into his arms. No one seemed hysterical, so she probably wasn't dead, but she was clearly still unconscious. Annie and Josiah knelt, hugging Lucien and the slumbering Sarahi briefly before rising to walk across the battlefield. Time and again Annie knelt, sending pulses of energy into prone figures. Some sat up. Some stirred. Others remained still. Not every wound could be healed, even with the combined efforts of a healer and an incubus. To one side, the black-haired succubus Salome was locked in an indiscreet embrace with her husband. The tall man had backed her up against a scraggly tree trunk and was ravishing her mouth with one wild kiss after another. Moses shook his head and returned to watching Annie and her beloved as they continued to travel across the blasted desert, healing friend and foe alike. At last they circled around to his vicinity.

“Annie,” he called.

“Grandfather?”

“Yes, I'm over here. Come help, please.”

She approached, holding Josiah's hand. When the young man saw him, the cat green eyes narrowed to glowing slits. He released Annie and stalked forward, his dirty-looking aura flickering to life. A blade of pure energy shone in his grasp.

“Josiah,” Annie scolded, “what are you doing?”

“Taking care of unfinished business,” the boy replied. Moses' heart began to beat faster.

“He's going to finish me, girl. That's why I never wanted you with him. I knew what he was, even before I found out about his demon blood. He's a killer by nature, like his grandmother.”

“Josiah,” Annie said, clearly trying to catch the young man's attention. “Josiah, come on. Don't do anything stupid.”

“Stupid?” Amusement twisted the tan face into a grim smile, complete with flashing white teeth. “Stupid to exact justice on the man who has tormented me since I was a child? A grown man, Annie, bullying a little boy. How was that right? If I'm a demon, he's the one who made me one, with all his ugly talk and two-faced judgmental attitudes. Lilith didn't make me a monster, I never knew her. If I have hatred, bitterness, despair and death in my soul, it is not because of my demon blood. It is because of this man. How can you deny me justice? How can you deny it
is
justice?”

“I don't,” Annie said, making Moses gape. “He never acted right where you were concerned. It was a travesty. But please, Josiah. Don't kill my grandfather. Don't take another life. Please, show mercy.”

“'I will show mercy on whom I will show mercy,”' the boy quoted. “' And I will pardon whom I will pardon.”'

“Stop it,” Annie wailed. “You're not God.”

“I am to him. Here, in this moment, I am.” He turned to look at her and she fell silent.”

“Go on then, boy,” Moses taunted. “Be the demon you are. Finish me. Do it.”

Josiah smiled again, and there was death in that smile. The blade of energy flashed and Moses flinched, but he managed to restrain the scream welling up inside him. He would die like a man.

Only he didn't die. There was no pain, and the crushing net of energy which had held him captive fell away and dissipated. He was free, and Josiah had cut the cord.

Moses blinked in surprise. “Why?” he asked.

“Demon is a choice,” Josiah replied. “If I don't act like one, I'm not one. Do you know who taught me that, old man? My half-demon mother. And do you want to know something else?”

“What,” Moses asked warily.

“I forgive you.” Josiah released his hold on his energy and walked away leaving Moses to consider what had just happened in speechless astonishment.

Chapter 23

“Is she going to be all right?” Lucien asked, his voice gravelly with emotion. He watched the medic, a distinguished-looking man with silver at his temples and a neatly-clipped goatee, pressing gently on Sarahi's belly.

“There's some swelling here. I think there may have been some internal bleeding at one point, but it doesn't seem life-threatening. What happened?”

“She got too close to the explosion.”

“Ah,” said the nurse, lifting a fragment of oily black goo from Sarahi's chin. “That explains this.”

Lucien nodded. “Annie healed her… or at least tried to, but she wasn't able to complete the process.”

“I suppose,” the medic replied, “being part demon, her energy wasn't compatible. At least she repaired the injury. Internal bleeding can be very dangerous. She also has a concussion, though it doesn't seem too serious. She'll wake up with a monster of a headache.”

Lucien stroked a strand of rumpled burgundy hair from her forehead. “It could have been worse.”

“Yes, much worse,” the nurse agreed.

Lucien sat by while the team continued to work on her, administering anti-swelling medication, icing the bump on her head, cleaning and bandaging her multiple abrasions, and washing the blood from her skin.

“What
is
this?” asked the nurse, scraping ugly globs out from under her fingernails.

“Don't ask,” Lucien replied. He didn't want to explain little bits of Lilith.

“Father?” He looked up to see Josiah, his hair still wet from a shower, standing hesitantly in the doorway.

“Josiah,” he replied, not knowing what else to say.

“Is she all right?”

Lucien looked to the medic.

“With rest and time, she should be fine.”

Josiah nodded. “Can I come in?”

“She's your mother,” Lucien said. “Of course you can.”

Josiah pulled up a chair and sat down. He took Sarahi's limp, freshly cleaned hand in his. He gulped and drew in a shaky-sounding breath. “This is my fault.”

“No, this war has been coming since the dawn of time. You were the catalyst, nothing more.”

“'Things which cause people to stumble are bound to come, but woe to anyone through whom they come. It would be better for them to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around their neck.”' Josiah quoted, his eyes cast down.

“Don't overdo it, son. We won, after all. If you caused the battle, you're responsible for the victory. And I think you've suffered plenty for your rebellion, haven't you?”

“Yes.” Josiah said nothing more, but the look on his face told Lucien everything he needed to know.

“Anything can be forgiven if there is true repentance,” he said.

“Anything? I almost got my mother killed. I got my girlfriend pregnant and then slept with another woman.” He made a little involuntary movement as though suppressing a gag. “I lived with demons for weeks, and by not acting against their behavior, I condoned it. And I murdered Peter. Can I really come back from that? Will you forgive me? Will Mom? Will Annie?” His voice grew soft, almost a whisper. “Will I ever forgive myself?”

“I can. And I know your mother will. As for Annie… well I suspect you'll have to grovel for a while. But she's loved you forever, Josiah. Give her a little time. I think she'll be okay eventually. Especially since you're back.”

The last question he did not address. It was too soon. He didn't know what it would take for Josiah to forgive himself, but Lucien suspected a lot of effort and time would be needed. In the meanwhile, the boy could sit beside his mother, stroke her hand, and think about how to make the future better than the past.

***

“Argh,” Sarahi groaned as the light in the infirmary switched on. She turned, hiding her face against Lucien's leg. A week after the battle, she still suffered from blinding headaches and light sensitivity. The pain made her nauseous.

“Sorry,” the nurse said to her, and then, to someone else, “What's wrong, hon?”

“I don't know. I suddenly feel hungry all the time. Poor Caleb can't keep up,” Sarahi heard her kindest sister say.

“Well I don't know very much about succubus anatomy, but let me take a look.”

Sarahi smiled through the pain. She knew exactly what was troubling Salome.

***

So Salome is pregnant
, Lucien thought as he walked down the hallway from the courtyard back to the apartment he shared with his wife… or used to share. It had been three weeks since the battle. Sarahi was happy for her sister, of course, but one setback after another had kept his wife trapped in the infirmary.

The black-haired beauty, on the other hand, glowed with radiant joy. And Annie was starting to show a little. She hadn't consented to marry Josiah yet, but Lucien suspected she would. She was just making him squirm as punishment for his sins before she agreed. Lucien didn't disapprove. His son had a lot of atoning to do to a lot of people, and Lucien was too preoccupied with his wife to tend to it.

His wife. His thoughts cycled back to Sarahi, still lying on that infirmary bed. If only he could slip in between the sheets and take her in his arms. He would be so gentle as he fed her back to health. The nurses simply couldn't grasp the concept, and kept chasing him away, but soon he would have to be forthright with them no matter how uncomfortable it was. Maybe tomorrow. Yes, that would be good. He'd get a good night's sleep, eat a hearty breakfast, and then absolutely insist on some privacy so he could heal his wife. They both needed it.

He had arrived at their bedroom, and he opened the door and froze in astonishment.

***

Annie stood in the courtyard, clad in a warm, fur-lined jacket, looking up at the stars. The January air bit at her cheeks and gnawed her nose, though no wind was blowing. Her fingers ached inside her mittens and she tucked them into her pockets.

A warm body pressed against her back, arms wrapping around her. “Hello, beautiful,” a deep voice whispered in her ear.

“Josiah,” she said, struggling to sound neutral.

“Can we talk, Anne?”

“I'm not doing anything. Talk.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I forgive you.” She still sounded flat, she knew, but she feared opening up the floodgate of confused emotions Josiah evoked in her. She hated that their relationship had become so complicated. He kissed her cheek. The pleasure of his warm lips on her cold face retained its simplicity. It still felt perfect.

“Talk to me, Annie, please.”

“About what, Josiah?”

“About what I can do. I love you. I've always loved you. I know I screwed up. I made a terrible mess out of every good thing we had. Is there any way I can make it right? Just say the word. If you want a star to keep in your pocket, I'll find a way. Please, Annie. How can I make this better?”

“I don't know, Josiah. I just don't know. Did you really…”

His forehead dropped onto her shoulder. “Yes.”

“But she was your…”

“I know. It was stupid. I hated it the moment it was finished. But by then it was too late.”

“Then why? Why did you… do that? Wasn't my love enough for you? Why did you run from my bed to hers?”

“Your love was enough for me. More than enough. That was the most perfect moment of my entire life. The first thing that had ever felt so right. But…Annie, a few hours later, I was ready to fight heaven and earth to have you. And then I found out I was a demon. That my grandmother was our ultimate enemy. That my own mother was a succubus. How could I inflict that on my perfect Annie? My shining star? That's why I left. Not because I loved you too little, but because I loved you too much.

“That's the Othello excuse,” Annie said. “It didn't hold water with him murdering his wife, and it doesn't hold water with you… doing what you did.”

“It doesn't. There is no excuse, and I don't want to give one. I can't undo the past, Annie. I deserve you less than ever. But I've made peace with what I am. If Mother can risk her life against one of the greatest evils the world has ever known, how can I use demon blood as an excuse? I can't. I won't. I am what I am, Annie. You knew it, and you loved me anyway. I'm grateful for that. I don't know if you can love me again, knowing the choices I've made. If not, it's no less than I deserve. It would be justice if you found another man to love you. But this is mine, my doing.” His hand cupped the tiny swell of her belly. “My child. I grew up without parents for half my childhood, Annie, and I don't want that for our baby. Can you let me try? Can you let it go enough for me at least to be part of our baby's life? Please, Annie?”

He was begging. Annie closed her eyes against the sting of tears. Josiah was begging her to forgive him. For what reason was she withholding it? He was suffering, she knew. Part of her wanted his pain, took grim satisfaction in it. But most of her wanted him in her arms every day, in her bed every night. And then an image of her beloved servicing that disgusting demon flashed in her mind.

“Josiah, maybe we should… talk to someone about everything that's happened. A counselor? One of the elders? Someone who can help us both come to terms with life as it exists now?”

“Do I dare to hope that might be pre-marital counseling?” He kissed her cheek again.

“No,” she replied, and felt his body sag in defeat. She turned, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Post-marital. I want to get married tomorrow.”

She watched the understanding dawn in his eyes. Then he lowered his face, touching his lips to hers in a tender, passionate kiss.

***

“Hello, Lucien,” Sarahi said to her startled husband. Lucien just stared. Why was she here, in their bed, waiting for him? Why was she not languishing in the infirmary?

“Sarahi?” he said. When he was able to focus on the scene, he noticed a succubus intent on seduction knew how to make a compelling presentation. The bed was made up with a black satin comforter, pulled back to reveal scarlet sheets. She sat on the colorful fabric, wearing a clinging black lace nightgown which revealed more than it concealed of her luscious figure. Her full breasts strained the fabric to the breaking point. It skimmed her pale, narrow waist and the little curve of her belly before flaring across her lush hips, to her soft thighs. Her long red hair spilled around her shoulders and down her back. His eyes went back to her belly. It was small now, just part of her curves, but he had never forgotten how beautiful she'd looked, swollen with his child. He'd doted on her during her pregnancy, more than ever, knowing the blessing for what it was. They could try again, he thought. Have another child. One they would raise together as husband and wife.

But first he would have to plant a baby in her. And in order to do so, he would have to help her get well. Even now she looked pale and strained. There were lines of tension around her mouth, as though she were still in pain. Her eyes also showed the strain, the emerald depths dimmed.

“How did you get here, love? How did you set all this up?”

“Salome helped me,” she replied. “She told the nurse I needed you if I wanted to get well. She brought me here and made up the bed. I didn't do anything but get dressed. But I want you now. I need you. Come to me, my love.”

Lucien had no intention of arguing. Despite appearing as fragile as a porcelain doll, which made his protective instincts want to tuck her into bed, he knew she needed his loving in order to regain her strength. Sitting beside her on the bed, he took her in his arms and kissed her, a long and lingering kiss. She cupped his face and held him still while she covered his lips with endless, clinging kisses. She drank hungrily of his mouth, and he could feel copious amounts of energy pouring into her damaged body. He held nothing back from his lady. Nothing. He fed his life force into her, preparing her for the even more sustaining meal to come. She pulled his sweater over his head, and he returned the favor, divesting her of the lace negligée and laying her back on the bed, spreading her hair across the pillow. Such a compelling picture she made; black and white and red, with the glow of her eyes for contrast. He straddled her hips, and kissed her again before moving to the tempting globes of her breasts. He stroked and caressed one while capturing the rosy nipple of the other in his teeth, lashing it with his tongue and then sucking hard.

Sarahi moaned and tossed her head against the pillow as he worked the sensitive peak.

“Over here, love,” she urged, guiding his mouth to the other breast where it seemed the nipple begged for his attention. He gave it. She stroked his hair as he pleasured her. He kissed his way down her belly to the sweet, wet cleft of her body. He wanted to taste her and, using his fingers to spread her folds apart, he kissed her there before devastating his lady with long, tender licks. He worked her feminine flesh, bringing her to the peak of ecstasy. She didn't have the strength to come hard, but moisture surged against his lips. She was ready for her man, and he was more than ready for her. Kneeling between her thighs, he aligned his aching sex with her ready passage and slipped gently inside her, sliding deep into her waiting body.

“Ooh,” she sighed. Then she sobbed softly as Lucien pulled back and pressed in again, setting up a slow rhythm. Every time he pressed forward, energy poured from him into her. Her cheeks flushed with pleasure. Seeing she was stronger, he grasped her hips and thrust harder. Her breath caught. A moment later she was writhing in pleasure, whimpering and clawing at his back.

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