The Nightwind's Woman (22 page)

“Reaper,” she said, her voice low and
throaty.

“And you are?” he asked, a frown furrowing
his brow.

She took a few steps toward him. “I can be
anything you want me to be,” she whispered.

Cree stiffened for the scent of succubus
reached his nostrils. “I want you out of my way,” he said for she was between
him and the bathroom.

“Mayhap the feeling in your cock isn’t piss
needing to be spent but cum needed to be sucked,” she said, taking another
step. “I would be more than happy to rid you of it.”

“Hag, I’ll be more than happy to piss down
your throat if you don’t step aside,” he growled.

She lifted her chin, her eyes flaring. “Do
you know to whom you speak in such a disrespectful manner?” she demanded.

“One of the succubae sisters is my guess.
Most likely Naamah. You’re not of my pantheon so I don’t need to show you any
respect but if you don’t step aside, I am going to show you what it feels like
to have a Reaper slam your scrawny ass against the wall.”

The door to Coulter’s room opened at the
exact same moment that Lauren Fowler’s opened and Darkyn Sorn walked up behind
Cree.

“Shit,” Lauren snapped. “How the hell did
she get in here?”

Hissing under his breath, the Alpha flung
up his hands at seeing Coulter, Randon, Lauren and Jaleel peering back at him. “I
don’t recall alerting the whole gods-be-damned house that I have to piss,” he
snarled. “Fuck!” He came straight at Naamah and for the first time in her long,
long life, the fallen angel stepped aside for a male.

“Now
that
is a man,” Lauren said to
her lover.

“That’s Cree,” Coulter said. “Winning
friends and influencing enemies as usual.” He looked at Naamah. “I wondered
when you were going to show up. Couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

She hadn’t intended for anyone to see her
and it showed on her face. With a roar of fury she whipped around and
disappeared.

“Couldn’t resist going after a prime piece
of ass,” Lauren said with a laugh. “And the Reaper has a mighty fine one.”

“Never mind about my ass. She came out of
Kerreyder’s room, not mine,” Cree yelled through the closed bathroom door. “I
suggest someone check on
his
ass!”

Coulter and Lauren exchanged stunned looks
and hurried to Kerreyder’s door with Jaleel right behind them. Sorn and Randon
were close on their heels. Coulter flung open the door so hard it hit the wall
with a loud bang, the doorknob putting a dent in the sheetrock.

Kerreyder shot upright at the sound.

“Are you all right?” Lauren asked. Her eyes
roamed over him from head to foot—lingering a very long time on the middle of
him before moving on. “Did she hurt you?”

Torn from a pleasant dream of his lady for
a moment Kerreyder had no idea where he was or who the people staring down at
him were. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he didn’t respond as he tried to make
some sense of why there were strangers hovering over him.

“Answer me, incubus!” Lauren shouted. “What
did she do to you?”

“Who?” he shouted back then realized the
woman was staring at his crotch. His eyes widened and he looked
down—half-expecting to see his cock injured in some way. Since it appeared
intact—albeit a bit harder than he would have liked it to be considering it was
being perused by four men and a woman—he fumbled for the sheet and tossed it
over his legs. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Naamah,” one of the men said and as soon
as he spoke clarity filled in the gap is Kerreyder’s memory. The man was a
Reaper. No, he was more than a Reaper. He was a Gravelord—whatever the fuck
that was. But it wasn’t the recognition of who and what the man was and the
identities of the others falling into place that sent his heart racing, it was
the name of the succubus.

“She was here?” he asked.

“Cree said she came out of your room,” the
younger Reaper told him.

“Did she touch you?” the witch demanded. “Did
she feed from you?”

Kerreyder’s eyebrows drew together then
leapt up. “Fuck! She could have. She would have!” He shook his head. “It wasn’t
McKenzi I was dreaming about. It was…” He gagged. “
Fuck! She must have
!”

“Great,” Lauren snapped. “Just great!”

“She breached your spell,” Jaleel said. “That
is not good, dearling.”

“You think?” Lauren snarled.

“What does it mean that she took his blood?”
Sorn asked.

“Not his blood. His jizz,” Coulter stated.

Sorn frowned. “His what?”

“His
cum
, you dolt!” Randon shouted.

“That’s what succubae do,” Jaleel told him.
“They take their power from a man’s semen and the semen of an archdemon is one
of the most powerful seeds in the Megaverse.”

“Which means her powers are exponentially more
potent now,” Lauren said. She looked to her lover. “I need to cast a deeper
circle and we must all take part in the ritual.”

“No,” Randon said. “Not me.”

They all looked at him—including Cree who
had just entered Kerreyder’s room. “What are you saying no to, demon?” the
Alpha asked.

“I will never enter any circle the witch
casts.”

“But you are the most important
participant,” she reminded him. “Only your hand may touch the key and—”

“I said no,” Randon stated emphatically. “I’ll
not do it.”

“Aye, you will,” Cree told him.

“No, I won’t.” Randon headed for the door
but Coulter reached out to take his arm. When the Nightwind would have shrugged
him off, Coulter clamped down hard.

“She cannot and will not do you harm within
the circle,” the Gravelord said. “You have three Reapers and an archdemon at
your back, Kayle. You are in no danger.”

“And if she sends me to the Abyss with the
man she betrayed?” Randon demanded.

“Then I’ll bring you back,” Kerreyder said.

“I have sworn to you I mean you no
mischief, Nightwind,” Lauren said on a long, annoyed sigh. “What more can I do?”

“You can join Syntian Cree in the Primal
Ooze,” Randon growled.

Cree put out a blocking hand when Jaleel
would have gone after Randon. “Don’t piss me off, demon. I’ve still got a
splitting headache and I’m in the mood to stomp you into a greasy spot on your
owner’s carpet.”

“You could not,” Jaleel said, his chin in
the air.

Cree smiled nastily. “Wanna bet?”

“Go cast your circle,” Kerreyder told
Lauren. “We’ll be there when you are ready. The rest of you get the hell out of
here so I can get dressed.” He snapped his attention to Randon. “And you? Let’s
you and me have a little talk, incubus.”

Sorn, Coulter and Lauren turned to the
door. Cree—his stare fused with Jaleel’s—cocked his head toward the portal. “Beat
feet,” he ordered.

“Fuck you,” Jaleel mumbled as he moved past
the Alpha.

“Try it and see what happens,” Cree told
him.

Kerreyder sighed deeply once the room was
empty save for him and Randon. He flung off the sheet and swung his legs from
the bed. “Cree is a time bomb ticking down to detonation,” he said through
clenched teeth. “I hope I’m gone before that temper of his goes off.” He
snatched up his pants, drove one leg into them with a snort. “I doubt it will
be a pretty sight.”

Randon turned his gaze from the archdemon’s
nakedness to watch the lightning that still sizzled. “This storm is either
drawing energy from our anger or we are drawing anger from it. Cree’s headache
is coming from it, as well.”

“You may be right,” the archdemon said as
he plucked his shirt from the chair on which he’d flung it. “The Storm Lord
Aeral has got his skivvies in a wad tonight.”

“Do you trust the witch?” Randon asked.

“No but you can trust me, Kayle. I’ll not
allow her to do harm to you. You have my word on it.” He put out his hand. “Trust
me. You are our lady’s protector. I would never allow anything to happen to
you.”

“You could choose another for her,” Randon
argued.

“It doesn’t work that way. You are already
bound through blood…” He stopped, frowned. “You need to take care of that
technicality. You need to sign the book, make the covenant between you as soon
as we return to Tearmann.”

“I will,” Randon said. He looked down at
the hand still being held out to him then clasped the other man’s wrist—warrior
to warrior—as he locked gazes with him. “You have my word on it.”

One quick downward snap of their hands
sealed the bargain between them. As they released their grip, a savage boom of
thunder shook the house.

“I believe Lord Aeral approved,” Kerreyder
quipped. “Now, let’s get this show on the road as the Terrans say. None of us
are going to get any more sleep this night.”

“We’ve looked everywhere for her,” Dr. Alyn
Matheny told the Supervisor’s assistant. “Her cell goes straight to voice mail.”

“Where can she be?” Pearl Gillespie
demanded, her hands on her ample hips. “She has patients backed up the wazoo!”

“I’m starting to get worried,” Marti Lutz,
the woman in charge of making Kenzi’s appointments said. She nibbled on her
thumbnail. “It isn’t like her to miss an appointment.”

“You’d best let the Supervisor know,” Alyn
said. “I’m going to have security check on the inmates. The
baginis
showed up here out of the blue. They took her back to Baybridge in lockdown
gear and hopped up on pairilis. We could have another creature running loose.
The gods forbid some beast has Kenzi in its hands.”

Pearl nodded crisply. “I’m on it,” she
said, pivoted on the heels of her sensible shoes and marched off.

Concerned, Alyn went to Kenzi’s apartment
after contacting security to do a check on all inmates. When he received no
answer at her apartment, he used the vid-com beside the elevator to touch base
with Pearl at the Supervisor’s office.

“Any word?” he asked as soon as Pearl’s
image appeared on the screen.

“The Supervisor is detecting an anomaly on
Level Five,” Pearl reported.

“What kind of anomaly?”

“A dead zone of some sort. He has gone to
investigate. Oh, and all inmates are accounted for at present.”

“Good to know. I’m on Three,” Alyn told
her. “I’ll meet the boss on Five.”

“Roger that,” Pearl said and the screen
went blank.

“Annoying woman,” Alyn grumbled as he
pressed the button on the elevator.

As he waited, he felt the hair on the back
of his neck stirring and put a hand to the spot. About to turn around he
experienced a strange electrical sensation along his spine. He stiffened,
grunted as something pressed hard against him. When the elevator door opened he
pitched forward onto the floor, writhed in agony for a moment then lay still
staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m in,” he said and got to his feet,
straightened his tie and adjusted his lab coat.

Behave as the healer would
, Lilith told the creature that had invaded Alyn Matheny’s body.
The
Ridge Lord will not detect your presence
.

“Yes, Mother.”

The
mazikeen
put the hands of its
host behind the human’s back and bounced on the man’s toes, grinning at the
sound of the shoe leather creaking. It was rare for the jinn-like being to
venture from its lair but when it was allowed out to play, it always made sure
it enjoyed itself. In their natural form they have wings and are invisible to the
human eye though they can slip into any form it desires. Agents of magic and
enchantment, they were born of the union between Lilith and Adam and in Jewish
mythology are ranked between men and angels. As offspring of Lilith, they are entirely
under her control.

You may enjoy yourself, Shideem
, Lilith whispered.
Make your time count
.

“Yes, Mother!” the
mazikeen
agreed
and bounced a few more times before doing a little jig, pumping the man’s arms,
doing a short moon walk and ending with the robot. He sobered as the elevator
reached Level Five.

* * * * *

Alexandru Hesar did not like coming to the
morgue part of Level Five. He had a very strong case of necrophobia—an odd
condition for a Shadowlord—and dead things were more than loathsome to him. But
the anomaly he had sensed as he scanned the complex for the whereabouts of McKenzi
Delaney had left him puzzled. Instinct and his Ridge Lord powers warned him only
he could solve the mystery of the dead spot he was picking up.

“Dead spot,” he mumbled as he pushed open
one of the stainless-steel doors into the morgue. “An apt description for this
vile place.”

The moment he stepped inside the white-tiled
room, he saw a hazy form—like a heat mirage—wavering over an autopsy table at
the far end of the room. There was a hint of urine in the air mingling with the
nauseating under scent of formaldehyde and methanol as well as other embalming
solvents. He shuddered as the smells invaded his nostrils. He reached into his
pocket for his handkerchief to cover his nose.

“Dr. Delaney?” he called out, pressing the
crisp cotton to his face.

“You can see me! Thank God. You can see me!
I’m here! I’m here!”

The words came from the undulating haze on
the table and he sighed.

“Naamah or one of her ilk,” he said under
his breath as he started toward the table.

It was a camouflaging spell that only those
with certain psi abilities could create or detect. The ability was called
apportation and it involved disappearing, materializing or teleporting an
object. In this case, someone or some
thing
had disappeared McKenzi
Delaney. Undoing the spell she had cast was as simple as touching the haze and
the enchantment would disappear.

As soon as he reached out his hand and laid
it on the haze, the wavering vanished to reveal Kenzi strapped to the table.

“It was the Saurian,” she said. “She—”

“We’ll get into all that later,” he said,
his voice muffled by the cloth. Hating to do so, he poked his handkerchief into
his pocket so he could undo the straps.

“Let me, boss.”

He glanced around, relieved to see Dr. Matheney
coming toward him. “Thank you,” he said, replacing the handkerchief over his
nose.

“Hey, lady,” Matheney said. “Strange place
to be taking a power nap, don’t you think?”

Dr. Delaney gave a nervous laugh but the
humor did not reach her eyes. Alexandru knew she was barely hanging onto her
dignity as Matheney unbuckled the restraints. A pool of urine lay under the
table and the front of her uniform pants bore a dark stain.

“I’m sorry,” she said, tears forming.

“No need to be,” Alexandru told her.

“All right if I take her up to her room?” Matheney
asked as he helped her to sit up.

“Of course. When you are ready, come to my
office and we’ll discuss the matter of the Saurian.”

“This has something to do with Randon,” she
said.

“I am sure it does but don’t worry about
that now. You are safe.” He gave Matheney a stern look. “Stay with her until
she feels up to coming to see me. I’ll have guards posted outside her door.”

“The Saurian looked like one of the guards,”
Delaney said.

“Aye, the females are shape shifters,” he
told her. “I’ll make gods-be-damned sure your guards are the real things.” He
bowed slightly and turned to go.

“It was Naamah who did this,” Delaney
called out.

“I know,” he acknowledged without looking
around. He could not get out of the morgue fast enough.

Kenzi was humiliated as she walked beside
Alyn. Though he was smiling and carrying on a normal conversation, he was
making her jittery just by his buoyant behavior. There she was with sopping wet
pants that smelled to high heaven, her arms clasped defensively around her,
looking over her shoulder with every step—expecting the Saurian or Naamah to
materialize at any moment—and he was talking about a feast he planned to have
at breakfast? She looked up at him, wishing he’d shut up.

“I find I am absolutely in love with a good
old-fashioned Southern breakfast,” he said. His hands were in the pockets of
his lab coat and he was practically bouncing as he walked. “Home fries with
onions, sausage patties, crispy bacon, a slice of fried ham, grits—I
love
grits!—scrambled eggs, a tall stack of toast slathered with blackberry jelly.
Heaven!” He smacked his lips. “Absolute heaven!”

They had reached her door and she wished
she could bid him a quick good-bye and duck inside but he’d been ordered to
stay with her.

“Next to sex, it’s the best.”

Those words made her stare at him. For some
reason they brought a chill and the idea of being alone with him in her
apartment was even less appealing. She decided to wait until the guards arrived
before going into the apartment.

“What are we waiting for?” he asked,
grinning down at her. The grin made her feel as though she were an appetizer at
one of the gourmet meals he’d described on the way up in the elevator.

“Ah, I wanted to talk to the guards,” she
lied.

“They’ll let us know when they’re here.” He
nudged his chin toward the entry panel. “Let’s go inside.” He rocked upward on
his toes and his eyes literally glittered with anticipation.

“I…I’d rather not,” she said, edging away
from him. Her inner voice was screaming at her to run.

He cocked his head to one side, his smile
slipping a notch. “Why not?” he asked in an almost childlike voice.

Her heart began pounding in her chest. The
man standing in front of her either wasn’t Alyn or Alyn wasn’t the man she
thought he was. She took another step back.

“I just w-want to talk to the guards.”

His smile faded completely. “You don’t need
to.” He took a step toward her.

Kenzi put up her hand. “Don’t,” she said,
shaking her head. “Don’t come any closer.”

“But you’re my feast,” he said and the
words felt like ice water flowing down her back.

“F-feast?” she questioned. She could barely
breathe for he was staring intently into her eyes and that stare seemed to be
sucking all the air out of her lungs. Blackness played around her peripheral
vision as she backed up even more.

“Mine,” he said and licked his lips. “Mine
to enjoy.” He reached for her. “All night. A feast of sweet, succulent flesh.”

Then he reached for her.

* * * * *

Randon stood in the doorway to the bedroom
from whence Lauren Fowler had sent her husband back to Abyss. On the floor was
a thick black carpet with two golden-rimmed circles. The outside circle was emblazoned
with five strange blue symbols painted on a golden background. The inner circle
encompassed much of the room and its background was black. A five-pointed star
with intersecting lines lay in the center of the large circle. Triangles formed
where the outside lines of the star met with the inner most-like constituting a
pentagram and with each triangle dyed a different color. The top point of the
star was dark blue in color. The eastern point was dark deep green while the
western point was dark brown. The southeastern leg of the star was gray and the
southwestern was red. The pentagram in the center of the star was black on a
gold background.

“This is not the circle I used that night,”
the witch told him as she stood in the center of the pentagram. “This circle is
not for the same purpose. This is a protection circle. It is to protect
warriors sent forth to do battle with evil.”

“It has been used since time began,”
Kerreyder said. “Handed down from the Guardians of the Megaverse whose age was
long before gods and man.”

“Within this circle are the Five Elements
of Emotion represented by the five colors. Green for sympathy. Brown for anger.
Blue for fear. Gray for grief. Red for joy. Before the Five Elements of Emotion
came the Four Elements of Creation. Creation, given to us by the Guardians of
the Universe to sustain our lives. Those elements are air, fire, water and
earth. There is nothing evil contained within this circle.”

“Sorn, Coulter, Cree,” Kerreyder said. “Take
a triangle and stand in the center of it.”

Sorn took blue, Coulter took brown and Cree
took green. Kerreyder stepped to the red triangle and Jaleel the gray.

“Where do I stand?” Randon asked, crossing
over the threshold and entering the room though his heart was racing and a fine
film of sweat dotted his forehead.

“In the center of the pentagram alongside
me,” Lauren replied.

Without giving himself time to think about
it, he did as she instructed though being so close to her made his flesh crawl.

“I will be invoking the help of the Four Archangels
who will protect you,” she said. “Let us begin by invoking the aid of Raphael
of the East to grant clarity of purpose, diligence of performance, discernment
of what needs doing and a satisfactory end to our endeavor.”

As each of the other three archangels was
called Randon could feel the presence of powerful beings forming unseen within
the room. With each invocation, the witch turned to that point on the compass,
lifting her hand in which she held a witch hazel wand to point in that
direction.

Michael of the West to grant the energy to
perform their duties, courage and strength to see those duties to fulfillment
and the loyalty to defend one another as brothers-in-arms.

Gabriel of the South to grant compassion to
those who deserve it, healing to those who require it, tranquility to those
beyond help and clearness of conscience to do what must be done.

Uriel of the North to grant complete
concentration on their task, endurance to see that task to the end and
thoroughness of action so Hades’ Key would not fall into the hands of evil.

“Protect us, Holy Ones, and lend Your
assistance to our warriors whose lives we place into Your compassionate hands.
Guide these warriors and grant them the strength of purpose and the honor of
completion of the tasks set before them. Return them to safety as they journey
forth. Let no harm befall them that cannot be undone. Lend Your support to the
loved ones of our warriors and keep them as well in the protection of Your
hands. Let no harm befall them that cannot be undone. Delve into the hearts of
those gathered here before You and see that we have come to ask Your blessings
in the name of righteousness and not evil. Let no harm befall us that cannot be
undone.”

“So be it,” Jaleel said.

“So be it,” the others repeated.

Lauren opened her mouth to speak but
another presence suddenly filled the room and it was Her voice that spoke
though She did not appear to those gathered.