Back From Hell (16 page)

God, she prayed silently, just let this be over. Maybe there was some nasty thing in there that he was going to feed her to. If it was over, then she could finally rest.

Inside her head, the man spoke again, his voice harsh and angry,
Stop! That’s not the kind of rest you want. Stop acting like you’ve already given up.

Tears seeped out from under her lashes and she fought against the words that burned on her tongue.
I have!

And then the demon stopped, and she held her breath, terrified. What was he going to do?

The hot water slid over her sore body like glory and her eyes flew open in shock as she settled against a stone ledge that seemed to cup and mold itself to her body.

Azar stood just to the side, and if she turned her head just a little, she would see him. But she didn’t.

Only God above and the demon beside her knew what he’d want in exchange for this kindness.

And Jenai was too terrified to ask.

Instead, she sank back into the water, too terrified to relax, but almost moaning aloud from the sweet respite. The aches in her body seemed to retreat and all the scrapes and scratches she’d inflicted on herself stung for the slightest moment and then a flash of heat, and those little pains were gone.

The water held some kind of healing properties. The longer she sat there, the more the aches and pains faded. The tension flooding her soul eased without her being aware of it, and before she even realized it, she slept.

* * * * *

Azar waited until her heavy lids closed, and the soft curves of her breasts started to rise and fall in a steady rhythm. Once sleep was on her, he moved into the water, using a light touch on her mind to make sure she didn’t wake as he washed the pale gleaming strands of her silvery-blonde hair, the sleek lines of her body. He lifted one hand out of the water and a soft, fluffy bit of cloth appeared in his palm. Lowering it into the water, he let the rich minerals and magick seep into the cloth and then he moved it between her thighs, pressing it against the mound of her pussy for a long moment.

Once he sensed the aching there had retreated, he let go of the rag and rose, keeping her body pressed against his. The heat from his body dried the moisture from his skin almost instantly as he called up a toweling cloth to dry her. It moved over her carefully under the direction of his mind and once she was dried, it wrapped around her like a blanket as he strode from the room.

The ripe smells of food still filled the air, but she needed sleep more. So he’d let her sleep.

Azar didn’t question his actions.

He was nothing if not truly honest with himself. He knew why he did this, why the thought of her lover searching for her made something inside the blackened bit of his heart yearn.

Love didn’t solve all.

But it should.

Even though the demon he had become scoffed at the notion, the man he had once been still lived, somewhere deep inside him.

If love had solved all for him, he wouldn’t be here.

Chapter Eleven

When Jenai awoke, she was lying in a bed so soft that it molded to her body as she shifted. Her eyes flew wide, and for one second, the past weeks seemed to just fade away.

But then she caught his scent.

The ripe musk of demon wasn’t one she was likely to forget and she jerked up in the bed, cowering away from the demon that sat watching her.

“You slept a long while.”

“What in the hell are you up to?” she demanded flatly.

Instead of answering her, he dropped down on his side, staring at her as he propped his chin on his hand. “A day ago, a voice whispered to you. I heard it.”

She didn’t answer, staring straight ahead of her, her gaze locked on the mellow golden skin of his throat. He laughed. She flinched at the sound and held herself still as his hand came up, stroking over her hair. “There’s lots of voices in here. There’s one that has whispered to you ever since I took you as mine. A stranger to you, a man you don’t know. I can’t hear his words clearly. He speaks, but I can’t understand him—he gives you strength. You don’t know
him
, though. I feel this inside your mind.”

Jenai just glared at him mutinously.

He smiled at her, a patient smile that looked so at odds with the monster she knew him to be. “There’s a new voice though, this one I just heard yesterday. He whispered…and you knew him.”

Yes. She had. For a moment, that voice, achingly familiar, had filled her with hope. But she didn’t trust anything anymore. Especially not hope. That didn’t keep it from trying to bloom inside her though.

Calmly, his voice reasonable, almost nice, Azar asked, “Who was he?”

Jenai instinctively tucked her chin, hiding her face from him. “I don’t know.”

She could feel him probing at her mind and she clamped down as tightly as she could.
Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think
, she told herself until finally, his touch withdrew.

Azar laughed softly. “You’re a stubborn thing, pet.” A plate of food suddenly appeared in front of her and she felt water pool in her mouth as she stared at it. Steak. A hot, steaming steak damn near three inches thick. Rare enough that the juices flowing from it were still pink, and she could have cried as she stared at it.

She was so damn hungry.

“Then eat it,” Azar whispered. “Eat. There’s nothing in it. It won’t harm you.”

Sneering at him, she snapped, “And what do you want in exchange for it?”

He chuckled. “Nothing. ’Tis given freely. Come now, Jenai. You seem to know a decent amount about my kind. We will not lie if asked directly, and you have asked quite directly. ’Tis just a bit of food, and you needn’t worry I’ll exact a price for it later. Not from your soul, or from your pretty hide.” Then his lids drooped, masking the darkness of his eyes as he murmured, “Unless you want me to.”

Hunger overran common sense and she greedily grabbed the plate. It fell gently into her hands and she caught the steak, digging into it with teeth and hands, too hungry to worry about anything but getting it in her belly. Her belly rumbled and she groaned ecstatically.

“Slow down a bit, pet. You’ll make yourself sick.”

Ignoring Azar, she swallowed one bite, then another, barely slowing down enough to savor the ripe taste until she had eaten damn near half the steak. Finally she set it down and found herself staring at her hands, sticky with the juices from the steak and whatever had been used to flavor it while it cooked.

A golden hand wrapped around her wrist and she stiffened as he drew her hand to his mouth, licking each finger slowly, his hot tongue curling around each pad, rubbing against it, then releasing it as he moved his mouth to another one.

A glass appeared in front of her face as he sat back. “It’s water. Nothing more,” he said bluntly, a small smile tugging up the edges of his mouth.

Jenai found herself staring into his eyes, shaking her head. “What do you want, Azar?”

His face moved closer, seeming to loom in front of hers, his dark eyes probing as though he could see clear through her. “What do
you
want, Jenai?” he asked.

“To leave here. Now. To never see this realm, or you, or another like you again. To go
home
,” she said, her voice hoarse and raw, tears stinging her eyes.

A soft “hmmm” escaped his lips as he traced a finger down her arm. Her skin broke out in a rash of goose bumps in reaction to his touch, and her muscles jerked, but she kept her face as blank as she could. It was a little easier. The fear was still there, but the food, the deep rest, even the bath had restored a little bit of calm, a little bit of strength. Right now, every last little bit was direly important.

She held still as Azar moved closer, feeling her breath hitch in her lungs as he leaned forward until the thick, gleaming red of his hair fell around her body like a cloak as he murmured into her ear, “Who was he? Who searches for you?”

Jenai sank her teeth into her lip, focusing on the pain that brought as her incisors tore flesh. Blood pooled in her mouth and he sighed, the soft breath dancing over her skin like a caress. “Stubborn, stubborn thing.”

* * * * *

Ronan dropped to the ground just as he heard the near silent attack come from behind. Rolling to the side, he sprang up to his feet, a growl sliding from his lips as he faced the thing that crouched in the sands before him.

It was grotesque. A skeleton stretched out of shape and covered with thin, papery gray flesh. Big red eyes bugged out of its skull and its thin, lipless mouth peeled back from rotting teeth as the thing laughed. “Strong mortal,” it crooned. “Fast. But not fast enough.”

It lunged for Ronan and he waited until the very last second before he dodged, catching the thing by its scrawny neck and hurling it to the ground. It wailed and leaped back up, jumping at Ronan once more. Ronan slid away yet again and he laughed as the thing cursed at him.

“I’m not mortal.”

“Ahhh…” it purred. “But you aren’t demonkind, either. And only demons survive in the Under Realm. Stop fighting…become one with us.”

It lunged for Ronan once more and he braced himself, going down under the thing. It screamed in pain as Ronan punched a hole through its chest. Ronan gagged at the decayed odor that spilled from the thing as its blood flowed. Clawed hands tore at his face, his hair, but he pushed onward through the thing’s chest cavity. The heart was higher, closer to the elongated neck, and Ronan’s hand was buried in the creature’s chest up to his forearm by the time he closed his fingers around the heart.

He crushed it as he jerked, ripping it from the creature and hurling it far away. As the demon creature fell down dead, Ronan turned away and stumbled three feet before he fell to his knees, dry heaving.

Fuck, that stench was unreal. He’d smelled bodies dead a week that smelled better than that thing had.

Once he got his stomach to stop rebelling, he sat back on his heels, staring up a sky that was still night dark. It had been dark for more than a day.

How much longer? Everything in this world seemed to move so slowly. The darkness had come upon the land like somebody had thrown a light switch, sudden and all-consuming, not gradual fading of the light.

“Jenai,” he muttered, shoving to his feet.

Had to keep moving.

He left the dead thing behind him, unaware of the eyes that watched him from all around.

He had to keep moving…had to find food. So damn hungry.

* * * * *

“He’s strong,” Zati said, the words falling from his lipless mouth like a hiss.

“It was just a golner. Golners are weak.” Conchez turned away, masking his disappointment.

If the human had given in to the despair, the golner would have gained hold. Doubt was poison to mortals here, letting the demons slide inside the mind and entrap them.

But the golner wasn’t one of the strongest creatures in the Under Realm. They’d send another.

Conchez brooded as he watched the man move ever closer to Azar’s territory. He wouldn’t put it past the bastard to offer the mortal some sort of shelter. Azar was so undemonlike—and he was proud of it, the fool.

“Send Boriga.”

Zati’s single eye, placed high in the middle of his forehead, widened but he only nodded and faded away. “It is done.”

The demon called Boriga was a succubus, one of the most deadly, alluring demons in all of the Under Realm.

Zati was too fearful of her to even show his face. He just sent the message on the wind to her lair and hovered outside Conchez’ territory, watching and waiting.

He didn’t have long to wait. Not at all.

Boriga rarely had a creature come into the realm that she could feast upon. All of her feeding was done through dreams. Not that such a thing would bother her much, Zati knew, but there was something to be said about actually having human flesh under one’s hands, feeling them writhe, whether it be in pleasure…or in pain.

Boriga would bring both, Zati knew.

As the wind started to whistle, he watched the succubus come winging up out of the inky black darkness, her pale, ivory body gleaming like marble, her wings, dark, dark feathery appendages stretched from over her tawny head to trail the ground beneath her.

Her mouth, nearly as black as her wings, curved in a smile as she whipped past Zati.

Her hunger was already a musky, heady thing in the air.

The mortal didn’t have a chance.

* * * * *

There was humming in the air.

Soft, low humming, the sound husky, bittersweet, full of yearning and loneliness.

Tears burned his eyes, and Ronan could feel his heart clench within his chest as he searched for the maker of that sad tune.

But there was nothing, no living soul around him, so he walked on.

As he walked, the sound seemed to grow, not louder, but closer. Like it echoed inside his very soul.

It tugged at his heart, made him aware of just how very weary he was, how very hungry.

Just a rest…

His lids drooped and when he opened them, there was a woman there.

She was nude, lying draped across a stone that hadn’t been there when he’d closed his eyes. Slowly, the motion sluggish, he reached up and rubbed his eyes. She was still there when he looked again. Slowly, he turned away.
Jenai…Jenai…
He couldn’t pull up the image of her face, not over that music that now seemed to pulse inside his veins.

Spell. She’s enspelling me…

Sucking in air, he found his senses full of the ripe, sweet musk of the woman’s body and he clenched his jaw.
No. Not why I came…

From behind him, she whispered, “But isn’t it? You dream of me. You wish to taste of my body, know the feel of my flesh against yours. Come to me, let me take you into the darkness of my embrace and show you true pleasure.”

Her voice was close. She’d risen from the rock and now he could feel the heat of her body reaching out to his. Why hadn’t Ronan realized how cold he was?