Azrael's Light [Demon Runners of Unearth] (Siren Publishing Classic) (15 page)

As much as it pained him to do so, he removed her hands from his cock and attempted to catch his breath. Now with her spread out beneath him, he could enjoy her to the fullest.

Stirring feelings so alien to his previously hollowed existence, her every whisper, every sigh called him home. This was where he was meant to be, in her arms. As he loved her with his hands and his mouth, he wondered if in time she could ever come to love him.

He pushed the lingering questions aside and concentrated on the beauty that lay beneath him. Before he went back to the real world, he’d enjoy himself and maybe take a few lovely memories with him.

He bent his head to taste a begging nipple. The velvety texture was like heated ambrosia melting on his tongue. The flavor went to his head quicker than the richest demon wine. His already impatient cock grew even heavier with arousal. Patience had never been so hard. With both hands and his mouth, he fed on her rich flavors.

He parted her legs wide with his larger ones and with one hand teased the opening of her pussy with the head of his cock, rubbing circles and taunting her slick flesh. Her hips writhed, enticing him to do his worst. He didn’t bother to contain his growl of satisfaction as she grabbed his hips and pulled him to her. With a delicious friction, he filled her until he could go no farther. He was home.

Touching his forehead briefly against hers, he placed a tender kiss on her lips and began to rock his hips in an easy rhythm. She arched to meet his thrusts and grasped his lower lip between her teeth. Her legs wrapped around his waist until her heels pressed into the small of his back. His pace quickened as they met each other breath for breath and thrust for thrust. His arms curled beneath her shoulders, and his hands held her in place. She belonged to him and was going nowhere.

Her hands grasped his shoulders and held tight as he bracketed her with his forearms. Skin to skin, movement to movement, his pace increased with each stroke. Tidal waves of pleasure crested with each motion. Overcome with sensation, they swallowed each other’s cries as they came together in the weak evening light.

Diane stretched and found herself wrapped in the warmth of Azrael’s larger, harder body. She lingered and snuggled closer to the mountain of muscle. She hadn’t felt this cherished and protected since…well…forever. And Azrael’s touch went two steps further and made her feel petite and gloriously feminine. Her head fit just so in the notch where his shoulder met his chest, and at that perfect moment, there couldn’t be a more comfortable spot in the world.

Until an alien presence stirred at the edges of awareness, sending chill bumps racing though her flesh. Malice lurked, poked a fingernail into their world, and shattered their long-overdue slumber. She tried to shake the dreadful feeling by telling herself Alia walked through the apartment or the mortal woman shifted in her bed in the other room. It didn’t work. Something was wrong.

Azrael lay silent and still as if asleep, but his muscles had tightened. The heart beating beneath her ear increased its tempo. Without warning, with his eyes still closed, he grasped her tighter into his large arms, nearly squeezing the air from her lungs. Enormous black wings exploded from his back and cocooned her as he rolled them away from the window and to the floor on the far side of the bed. Constructed of the softest leather-like membrane, they sheltered her from head to toe. Flat, cold eyes opened, met hers, and with a soft touch, he pressed a fingertip to her lips.

He tucked his head over hers and held her so tightly she struggled to inhale.

A deafening explosion ripped the world apart. The floor trembled, and her ears rang with the shockwave. The room filled with stifling smoke and burning embers.

She conjured clothing for them just before he stood to face the coming danger. He forced her behind him as he spread his wings wide. Long ago she’d heard his wings were magnificent, but believed the tales to be exaggerated. In reality, the stories hadn’t done their fierce beauty justice. Their width nearly spanned her entire room. The broad bony arms that formed their frame arched high like an angel’s and swept out wide. Instead of feathers his wings were webbed with a dark membrane that looked so thin it was almost transparent, yet myth said they were near impervious to injury.

Shielding her with his wings, he did his best wall impersonation, but she was in no mood to stand in his shadow while he faced the threat alone. Though his protective testosterone flattered her, she had powers of her own. She would not cower like a damsel in distress while danger threatened those under her care. She reached deep within herself for skills she’d lost long ago and dematerialized from behind Azrael only to reappear directly at his side, just in front of his wings.

They would do this together or not at all.

“Get back.”

“No. Thank you, but I won’t hide from this.” She met Azrael’s dark glare with one of her own. She would not be a pushover, even for him.

They turned their heads to look at what used to be a wall in her once-lovely bedroom. She couldn’t say she was surprised. Belial had always favored dramatic gestures. There would be no subtle shadow entry like his guards’ earlier attempt. He reveled in attention.

The entire city-facing wall had vanished. As the smoke began to clear she could see the huge opening rimmed with flickering flames. Sparks of lit ash resembled little demonic sprites flitting through the night air. She wove a silent but effective spell insuring any mortals within visual distance would sleep deeply until she released them. The last thing they needed was for the human authorities to get in the way, or worse, hurt.

On silent wings of their own, Belial and five of his personal Rimmon guard entered through the gaping hole, each wearing a smug expression. Despite the fresh burns on the left side of his face, Belial resembled a Greek god with his jaw-dropping beauty. Barefoot and dressed only in brown leather pants, his tall, muscled stature and chiseled good looks might make a cover model weep with envy, but his dark eyes glittered with malice. It was the kind of psychotic hate born from untold of years of bitter jealousy. With the power of ten Rimmon and the temperament of a spoiled teenager, he was a nightmare come to life.

Wings the color of freshly spilt blood contrasted with his blond Adonis appearance. She remembered from her days in Luc’s court that the rumors said Belial used a simple glamour spell to make his wings appear larger than they really were. She almost snickered out loud over his vanity because even with the enhancement, they paled in comparison to the dark beauty of Azrael’s.

His beastly faced, gray-skinned guards surrounded him with the tips of their curled horns lit with the anticipation.

“Let’s make this easy, shall we? Give me Alia, and we won’t destroy everything in sight. I’m tired of her petty games. I’ll teach her how a good mate is to behave, and all will be well.”

“Teach her like you taught the mortal women you nearly destroyed with your sick games? I don’t think so. She’s not going anywhere.” Her voice shook with anger and disgust. Demons like Belial were one of the many reasons she left her home all those years ago.

“Ah. Yesssss. The women.” Her stomach threatened to revolt at the sight of the sickening, lustful way he licked his lips. “I can still hear their screams echoing in my ears. It’s such a lovely memory. But there’s even more to tell. Since you’re sure to die tonight, I’ll let you in on a little secret. Each of those women will bear my spawn. I’ve assured that their offspring will become some of the most formidable warriors born in ages. When the time is right, I’ll come to claim them. With Alia chained at my feet, I’ll have the blood tie I need to take the crown. I’ll be invincible. It will be such great fun. I wish you could be there to see it all come together, but alas, no. You’ll be dead. So sorry.”

For the first time since she’d met him, Azrael was speechless. He stared at Belial slack-jawed, as if not believing the demon could be so stupid. He gave his head a little shake.

“Man, seriously? When will you learn the Fates don’t appreciate when others step into their territory? If you’ve done something to ensure your victims will only have male children, it will likely backfire. The Fates are not kind to those who meddle in their affairs. You know this. And if you think Lucifer will just stand by idly while you take his daughter and crown, you must have lost your mind.”

“Screw the Fates. Azrael, you have been their errand boy for too long. They truly have you whipped like a puppy. They can do nothing to me. The Fates only have power over those who are stupid enough to allow it. As for the weakling, Lucifer, if I have his precious, spoiled brat under my thumb, he’ll do nothing but dance to any tune I choose.” Belial’s maniacal laughter sounded almost childlike in its absurdity.

A quiet voice sounded from the doorway behind them, striking terror deep in Diane’s heart. She should have known her niece wouldn’t hide from trouble. A soldier by blood, she would willingly embrace any challenge thrown her way. Her bravery made Diane both proud and heartsick.

“I’m here, but I’m not going anywhere, Scarface. If you think I’ll go so you can keep me hostage and take Dad’s throne, you need a straitjacket. You know, you are really going to regret all you’ve done. I can see it clearly.”

“You always were a brat. Everyone knows your parents spoiled you beyond repair, but you don’t have the gift of foresight. Not even your parents have the power of foresight. Quit spinning lies, and let’s go.” Belial’s words were full of confidence and bluster, but a look of doubt flashed through his expression before the madness returned.

“You’re wrong, Belial. I owe you no explanations for what I see, but Azrael had the right of it. The Fates are not pleased with your attempt at breeding abominations, especially at the expense of innocent babes.” Her violet eyes shone with of knowledge of dark magics that surpassed even Diane’s. Shadows danced at the edges of the lavender light in her eyes. The brilliant light of innocence had darkened.

Now a young woman with the awareness of her dark birthright stood with them ready to join the battle. Diane watched her niece bloom before her eyes. The precocious little girl who’d always loved everyone without reservation had grown up. She’d matured in a harsh realm, under the guidance of one of the most cunning and ruthless immortals to ever inhabit Unearth. Heart, intelligence, fire, and a wicked birthright, it was a hell of a combination.

“Attempt?” The red-winged demon continued to cackle his amusement. “There was no attempt, my dear. I bedded those whores thoroughly. I bred the strongest demons born in millennia. They’ll be baptized by the cold fires, trained, and under my control in no time. We all know how quickly mortal time passes. In the blink of an eye they’ll be mature enough to lead armies.”

Diane saw the truth in her niece’s face. The story was written in her eyes for those who had the will to see it. Something dreadful happened to Alia, and Diane never had the slightest idea. Her heart ached for the remarkable young woman who looked at Belial like as if he were no more than a pesky fly on the wall. She knew her girl, and she was honest to a fault. Belial was in trouble.

“Your spawn, as you called them, now have the Fates’ blessing. All of the babes you sired will be born mortal women. They will be the definition of compassion, strength, and intelligence. Their path will not be easy, but they will walk it to the very end and prevail against a wretched evil. And you will have no part in their future whatsoever.”

Chills covered Diane from head to toe as she watched Alia standing with her sleep-tousled hair and silly pink, skull-and-crossbones pajamas, spinning her first prophecy as if it were child’s play. The light of her eyes darkened in color and brightened in intensity.

Her heart bled for the women and their daughters whose paths lay stretched out in front of them, filled with darkness and despair. It was a devastating reminder of how life could be so unfair to even the unborn.

* * * *

The concern on Diane’s face kicked him in the gut. One of the kindest souls he’d ever met, he suspected she feared for the toils that lay ahead for Belial’s unborn victims. If only there was something he could do to ease her pain and theirs. But he was the nothing more than a Soul Runner. What did he know about women and…love?

Absolutely nothing, and it wasn’t time to fight his personal demons.

He forced his attention back to Belial just in time to see a black shadow, no larger than a bird, flicker over Belial’s face. The small, dark specter quickly dissipated, but in its wake a familiar symbol marked the demon’s forehead. Never in his life had Azrael been so thankful to see the hallowed death stamp. The timeless symbol spelled out Belial’s time of death and the method. The Kor had spoken, and the demon’s fate was sealed.

* * * *

Diane looked over at Azrael just in time to see a primal sneer of male satisfaction light up his face. What did he know? Had he seen something she’d missed?

A lighthearted sigh whispered behind her. Surprised to hear such a happy sigh in the midst of madness, she turned to watch Alia open her arms and shyly whisper to an invisible form.

“Hi, Daddy, I missed you.” Her slender arms wrapped tightly as if they were around an invisible tree, and she craned her neck to look up as a shadowy form slowly appeared within her embrace. The large, shadowy phantom held her tightly and placed a large knuckle under Alia’s little chin as he completely manifested in her arms.