Bitter Bite (15 page)

“Is that a scapular?” Gideon sounded confused.

She nodded, frowning at the wrinkles. She smoothed out the two small
rectangular scraps of cloth and ran a thumb over the embroidered picture of the
Virgin Mary on the top piece. The color had faded to a sort of brown-green, but
the picture was still clear enough to bring back memories of her mother.

“My mom said this belonged to my grandmother. Supposedly, she
received it as a gift from
her
grandmother.” She smiled sadly. “I don’t know if that’s true, but I always felt
something when I wore it. Something I couldn’t explain. Some energy or
connection to her.” She slipped the strings holding the pieces of cloth other
over her head like a necklace. One of the rectangles went under her shirt to
sit against her back, and the other hung down between her breasts.

“The green scapular is supposed to protect you against Satan.”
Gideon touched a finger to the front piece. “Even unbelievers are said to be
protected if given one.”

Hannah smiled. “Can you feel it?” She took his hand and pressed it
against her chest.

He sucked in a breath.

“Yup. You can feel it.” She almost laughed at the expression on
his face. “What? You might not believe in God anymore, but this was blessed by
my grandmother, or so my mother said. We’re all witches, according to her.”

Gideon snatched his hand away as if touching her would somehow
contaminate him.

Well. That hurts
. “You’re an ex-priest atheist who
believes in vampires and demons, but the thought of a witch freaks you out.”
Hannah pressed her lips together as she watched Gideon’s expression close up.
He
doesn’t want to face the thought that he might be wrong about his faith, but
why? What is he afraid of?

“How is this going to lead us to Alaric?” he asked tightly.

“If I concentrate, I can feel the consort bond better. The
scapular will help me focus my energy.” Hannah closed her eyes and put her hand
over the front piece. The cloth felt rough against her palm.
I shouldn’t have left it in the box so long.
She’d never get all the wrinkles out now.

“How do you know how to do this?”

Hannah frowned, but didn’t open her eyes. “My mother showed me,
before she died.” She slowed her breathing, using the meditation skills she’d
learned so long ago. For a moment, she wondered if she could do this at all—it
had been three years since she’d tried this little trick. Three years since her
mother’s death. She’d grown up knowing the women in her family were a little
bit … odd.
Witchy,
as her mom used to say. It had been three years since
her father finally lost his battle with rage and lashed out. Three years since
she’d had to defend herself. She frowned at the bad memories and forced herself
to push them aside.

Her breathing slowed, and she let her mind relax and wander in the
direction she needed. Light swirled on the back of her eyelids. She felt
Gideon’s quiet strength and let herself savor the warmth in her pussy from
their recent bout of shower sex. That led her thoughts to the memory of Alaric
sliding into her body the first and last time they’d made love. She trembled.
Gideon touched the back of her free hand, probably to reassure her, but the
moment his skin met hers, she slipped into the last dream she’d had of Alaric.
Darkness surrounded her. A dozen red eyes promised pain and death.

“Oh, God.” She moaned, struggling to keep her focus. She crumpled
the scapular in her fist, but didn’t let the connection fade. She couldn’t let
fear rule her now. Gideon put his arms around her and she felt his energy stretch
out and mesh with hers. That helped. She gritted her teeth and concentrated,
pushing … pushing ...

Abruptly, she knew where Alaric was. The dark cave was the same,
but for the first time, fear didn’t choke her perceptions. He was being held in
a catacomb. Hannah knew the place. She’d been there before. It lay beneath the
church she and her mother used to attend when she was just a little girl. She
hadn’t been down there in years, not since the passages were sealed up because
of water damage.

“Hannah?” Gideon’s grip tightened.

Her eyes snapped open to find him staring at her so intently she
wondered if he thought she was delusional.

“Well?” he asked warily. “Did it work?”

“Yeah.” She licked her lips. “I know where he is,” she said,
slowly releasing the scapula. It tickled her chest, and she lifted it back over
her head. Gideon’s expression said he didn’t believe her. She squeezed his fingers
and piled the soft string and fabric in his palms. “He’s in the catacombs
beneath the old church and he needs a priest to get him out.”

Chapter Nine

Alaric clenched his teeth, shoving down the worry that rushed
through his body. He needed to remain calm. He’d sensed Hannah and Gideon making
love in the shower, and then he’d felt Hannah’s energy touch
him,
in the
place where his soul used to reside. He’d never experienced anything like it
before, not in all the centuries he’d walked the Earth. God help him and his
consorts if his enemy discovered Alaric was bonded. The only reason he’d lasted
this long as a captive was because he could draw on Hannah and Gideon’s
strength.

“It is almost time for you to die, Alaric.” Brosius casually
flicked his demon-damned whip out again. “I’m amazed you’re still functional.”
He flicked the whip again. “You’ve consumed no blood for weeks now.” Flick.
“The hunger must be incredible.” Flick. “Just think, if your stupid descendent
hadn’t stumbled across my daily kill all those years ago and kicked up such a
fuss, we would not be here today. We might not even have ever met.” Flick.

Alaric didn’t flinch when the tip of the whip caught against his
ribs. He’d be damned if he was going to let the bastard see how much it hurt.
And now that he’d sensed Hannah’s spirit, he knew he couldn’t give away even an
inkling of his connection to her and Gideon. Brosius might not notice the bond,
but his demon master would. Those red eyes hadn’t moved from him for weeks now.

Brosius leaned closer. “I am happy we met, however, Alaric.”
Flick. “You’ve proven far more entertaining than I’d ever anticipated.”

“Enough,” the demon said.

Brosius froze. The look of fear that flickered through his eyes
unsettled Alaric, more so than the whip. The demon’s voice sounded like rocks
falling from a cliff. The words came from the stone wall.

Alaric forced himself to look past Brosius. His gaze met the row
of eyes across from him. Dozens of red pupils stared back, and then the stone
shifted as the demon poured his essence more fully into this reality. Rocks
reformed into beast. The monster detached himself from the wall and stepped
into the cave. Alaric stared as the demon, as large as an elephant, walked
toward him with those rows of burning eyes trained on his heart.

“You promised me a virgin, Brosius,” the demon said, gaze never
wavering from Alaric.

Brosius flicked his whip against the floor. “Abaddon, this vampire
knows where one can be found.”

The demon spat fire. It sizzled across the cave like water
splashing from a spilled drink. Brosius danced out the way. Alaric had no such
luxury. He shuddered when the flames burned his feet, and then he swallowed the
pain. He couldn’t lose control, not now. He’d rather die than see Hannah or
Gideon face this horror.

“Not anymore, he doesn’t.” The demon turned his giant head toward
Brosius. “The vampire has fouled the one of whom you speak.”

Brosius frowned. “What are you talking about?” He began to back
away, heading for the catacomb tunnel exit.

Alaric allowed himself a tiny smile of triumph, even as he worried
that the demon had sensed Hannah’s energy. In the two weeks Brosius held him
captive here, the demon had never once interfered, until now. Brosius had never
been particularly intelligent, and his hasty retreat spelled out his fear of
Abaddon better than anything else could have.

“The one you promised me is no longer innocent.” The demon
followed Brosius to the tunnel. As he moved, small rocks fell from his body and
tumbled to the cave floor to be crushed underfoot. He sounded like a mobile
earthquake. It wasn’t a sound meant to inspire calm.

The moment those red eyes left Alaric’s body to focus on Brosius,
he began to work his hands out of the shackles set into the stone. The creature
had been staring at him continuously since he’d been chained up and this was
his first opportunity for escape. His right hand slipped free, slick from what little
blood he had left in his body. He wasn’t squeamish about injuring himself to
get loose. He gritted his teeth and started on the rest of his restraints.

The first thing I’m going to do is rip Brosius’s head off,
he promised himself as he eased
his other hand out of the metal cuff set into the wall.
I’ll deal with
Abaddon later. Somehow.

Brosius halted at the tunnel entrance when he realized his retreat
had attracted the demon’s attention. “That’s impossible. The girl is a virgin.
She tastes of innocence.” He drew himself up and pointed at the catacomb wall
where the demon had detached himself. “And I ordered you to stand guard for me,
Abaddon. If you disobey, I can easily send you back to the depths of whatever
level of hell you crawled from.”

He still thinks he controls the demon?
Alaric was grimly amused. His
wrists stung, but he ignored the pain. His normal recuperative abilities had
been stunted by his long, unwilling fast. He’d need blood soon if he didn’t
want to go into a vampiric coma.

“You forget who I am.” Abaddon snarled, spitting more fire across
the floor. This time, the flames found Brosius instead of Alaric. The vampire
screamed as his pants caught fire. Alaric smiled tightly as he crouched down,
intent on freeing his feet. He hoped the bastard enjoyed slowly burning to
death. It wasn’t a pretty way to go. As far as vengeance went, he supposed that
destruction via demon was as good as it could get. Very soon, his long quest to
kill his enemy would be finished. The only problem he’d still need to face was
living through the demon’s wrath.

“You are too stupid to live, Brosius.” The demon breathed more
fire.

Huh. The demon and I agree on something. That’s a first.
Alaric coughed on the ash, still
working on his feet. Brosius screamed again, short and agonized. Alaric glanced
up, then wished he hadn’t. His ancient enemy was ablaze, head turned up to the
ceiling. Red fire poured from his mouth, but he wasn’t yet dead. Alaric cursed
under his breath as he finally managed to break the chains on his ankles. He lurched
across the cave on cramping muscles and seized Brosius’s head with his hands,
ignoring the fire. He squeezed, enjoying the knowledge that his face would be
the last thing Brosius would ever see. The burning vampire looked at Alaric,
too far gone to scream again, but Alaric could tell Brosius recognized his
enemy. Fear swam into eyes already consumed with agony.

Alaric smiled grimly and pressed his hands together. “Goodbye,” he
whispered as Brosius’s head disintegrated into ash. He stepped back, knowing he
had to move fast to get away from Abaddon, but he didn’t make it. Fire caught
his hair. He dropped to the floor, rolling as he kicked out with his feet, using
all his strength. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

Idiot
, he thought, angry with himself as
he struggled.
You should’ve let Brosius
burn and made your escape while Abaddon was still occupied with him.

When the demon reared up above him, smoke pouring from his mouth, Alaric
gritted his teeth and prayed the end would be quick.

“You dare steal my kill?” Abaddon growled.

“Brosius was my kill first,” Alaric said defiantly.

The demon roared. Fire filled the chamber, igniting the stone
walls.

Dear God, please let Hannah and Gideon survive this,
Alaric prayed as the heat poured
over him. He recalled how it had felt when they’d made love without him. Even
chained to the wall, he’d experienced their passion. Their love had given him
some measure of peace despite his torment. Truth be told, he would have liked
to experience one last moment with his lovers, but he also didn’t want them to
suffer because of him.
Perhaps this is why I have two consorts … so they can
survive my destruction. Together their strength will keep them alive when I am
gone.

Abaddon howled again, flames pouring from his mouth and eyes.
Then, unexpectedly, he screamed. Alaric stared, confused when the demon
stiffened, as if he’d turned to stone.

Impossible
. Once a demon went feral, there
was no stopping them, not unless … Alaric’s gaze flicked past the demon. Gideon
stood in the tunnel entrance, hands outstretched like an angel of vengeance.
His eyes glowed copper bright and he held what looked like a cloth necklace in
front of his body like a shield. He chanted in Latin. Hannah clung to his arm,
white light haloing her hands where she touched him.

Dear God, she’s a witch!
The white light around her body was unmistakable. Demons could be
weakened, but only by a consecrated priest. They could only be banished when a
priest and a witch combined their power, which was all but impossible given the
Catholic Church’s grim history of persecution of supernatural creatures. Yet, defying
every odd, Alaric’s consorts had come to the catacombs together.
To save me.

When Gideon draped the necklace around the demon’s neck, it
suddenly turned on them. Rocks flew in every direction as the lower part of its
body violently disintegrated. It roared and reached out with a disintegrating claw,
knocking Hannah to the ground.

“No!” Alaric yelled as fire flickered over her torso. He scrambled
across the floor and covered her with his body, trying to protect her from the
weakened but still dangerous demon. Some of the fire Abaddon had breathed out abruptly
turned to thick, black blood as his energy transformed from a supernatural
essence to a mortal substance. Hannah gasped, clutching her chest. Splinters of
stone stuck out from her body like grim daggers. The demon’s blood coated her
wounds, and Alaric would’ve screamed if he had any voice left. She might have
survived except for that. Demon’s blood was a potent poison with no cure. She would
be dead in moments.
But perhaps the blood
didn’t get in her system. Maybe there’s still hope.
Alaric gathered her
into his arms. He bowed his head over hers. “Don’t let go, my dear. You’re
strong. Hang on to me.”

Feebly, she clutched at his shoulders, but Alaric could tell she
was at the end of her strength.

“Hannah!” Gideon yelled, but he couldn’t stop what he was doing
and he knew it. Alaric could see both anguish and resignation on the former
priest’s face as he kept chanting the prayers of binding. The demon writhed.
More rocks splintered.

“Fucking hell.” Alaric cursed, making sure none of the shards hit
Hannah. He pulled her closer to the wall, turning to give Abaddon one last kick
to keep him away. The demon finally fell, crumbling as he hit the side of the
catacombs. Disturbingly, the eyes in the stone still burned even though the creature
was now bodiless. If Gideon didn’t hurry …

 
“Finish the banishment!”
Alaric yelled. “He’ll create a new body if you don’t complete the exorcism.”

Giving him a sharp nod, Gideon plunged his arms into the pile of
rubble and entwined the necklace through the top stones. The same white light
that had been on Hannah’s hands flared across his tattoo and he grimaced. An
echo of burning pain flickered through the consort bond and over Alaric’s
already burned skin, but he didn’t say a word. Didn’t even flinch.

This needs to be done
if we are to survive
.
Alaric endured the discomfort. He watched Gideon chant the last line of the
binding prayer and close his eyes. Alaric sensed him focusing the residual
witch’s energy from the scapula. The rocks rumbled and the floor shifted
alarmingly, but when Gideon finally leaned back, leaving the charm woven into
the rubble, all of the burning eyes abruptly went dark. It was as if the demon
had never even been present at all. Gideon sagged to the ground, struggling to
breathe.

“Gideon!”

“I’m okay.” Gideon began making his way across the ash and rubble.
“How is Hannah?”

“I’m not certain.” Alaric looked down at the woman in his arms.
He’d managed to keep the worst of the destruction from injuring her further,
but she was very pale. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “Hannah.
My dear, can you hear me?”

She smiled weakly. “Yeah.”

God, she’s so weak.
Please don’t take her from me.
Alaric wanted to shake her, but he knew that would only hurt her
more. “Why did you come here?” He dropped her arm and cradled her face. “You
shouldn’t have come.”

She coughed. Red speckled her lips. Alaric kissed her softly,
gasping when his body absorbed her blood. Energy flickered between them, but
not enough to help her. Her skin turned waxy.

The demon’s blood has surely entered her body.
He’d
thought perhaps it hadn’t infected her when she hadn’t died immediately after
being injured, but now he realized he’d been wrong
. The consort bond had most likely
prolonged her life, but it wouldn’t cure her. Her sudden deterioration was
proof that there was no antidote for demon blood poisoning. She would be dead
within minutes. So would he.
And so will Gideon.

“We had to free you,” she whispered, hands fluttering. Alaric took
her fingers in his and stroked her skin, trying to calm her down.

“I would’ve survived,” he said. It was a lie, but she didn’t need
to know that. “Shh.” He kissed her fingertips, holding back grief he never
expected to feel in his lifetime. She didn’t deserve this. He should never have
allowed himself to lose sight of what was important. Hunting Brosius had cost
his consorts their lives. “Hannah, I’m so sorry.” He kissed her again. “My
vengeance has killed us all.”