Cleopatra's Return: A Paranormal/Vampire Romance (18 page)

Michael jogged after Thaddeus, his speed useless until he had an actual direction. He used th
e frustrating pace to mentally catalogue what he saw.

Limbo, while illuminated, was a place of shadows. Overhead the sky
loomed heavily, an empty gray expanse with no sun to warm the ground. How they managed to see was a mystery, and he wondered if night and day existed in this place. And did time pass the same way over here as back on earth?

Not a living creature
did he see as they traversed the vast plain, but every so often, from the corner of his eyes, he caught flickering shadows that dissipated when he looked directly at them. Unnerving, but given the way these mist-like entities seemed to avoid them, he didn’t bother pursuing them.

The trio ran for a while until
the landscape changed, if you could call the addition of a few boulders and stunted trees an improvement. The gnarled trunks were gray like everything else, the branches twisted, and if they’d ever born leaves, there was no sign of them either on the limbs or on the ground. It baffled the mind to even think of how they came into being, for this land was dry. So dry and dusty. The filth of it coated his skin, his clothes, and filmed his tongue.

They ran for hours, or at least it felt that way
. In this never-changing place, it was hard to tell. Michael’s internal clock, though, insisted they’d missed the devil’s deadline, not a fact he mentioned to the others. Julius, who stumbled along behind him, hadn’t spoken since the portal. As for Thaddeus, still in wolf form, he, too, had begun to lag.

A
t the back of his mind, Michael knew he should have sent them back to escape while they had a chance, but in order to stack his odds when it came to saving Cleo, he needed their help. Selfish or not, he doomed his companions to either rescue Cleo with him or die trying.

An acrid stench came to him, a burning smell
that led him to spot a thin smoke rising from over a hillock. He didn’t need Thaddeus’ low growl to let him know they’d found something. His wolf captain, with a sudden second wind, bounded forward over a small rise.

Revitalized,
Michael drew on his reserve strength and pounded after him. He topped the crest of the hill and beheld a nightmare.

Rage engulfed him as
his gaze took in the sight of Cleo—
my woman!—
naked and struggling, trapped upon a rack, her limbs chained. A man, wearing only britches, approached her, holding out a rod with a bright red tip, which Michael realized in horror was a brand. With a speed only one of his kind and age enjoyed, Michael practically flew at them in time to throw himself in front of Cleo.

The searing brand smoked against his heavy leather duster
, and the man who held it staggered back.

“You!” yelled Marc. “You dare assault me on my ground.”

“I dare come after what is mine,” Michael replied with all the cool composure he could manage. But it wouldn’t last, not with the volcanic fury simmering below his skin.

“
Big mistake. This is my turf. My place. And your doom. Get them!” screamed Marc Antony, spittle flying.

Even as Michael lunged at the bastard who
dared hurt his sweet goddess, demons came pouring out of the sky. How he and his companions had failed to notice them was a subject to ponder for another day. Michael’s fist connected with a satisfying thud against Marc’s jaw, and the other man flew backward and hit the ground. Before he could pummel him some more, the first of the demons reached Michael.

Survival became
his only focus in the sudden mad fight. Much as Michael longed to wring Marc’s neck, he couldn’t as demon after demon engaged him. Marc Antony, the slimy cowardly bastard, attempted to slip away in the turmoil, allowing his minions to fight his battle.

And what a battle.

Michael prided himself on his skills as a fighter. He’d led God’s armies for a reason—he was the best. But even he couldn’t prevail against overwhelming odds, although he gave it his best shot.

His fists
flew, rapid thrusts against flesh that connected and, in some cases, punctured flesh. He grabbed and tore at writhing bodies with his teeth, the spray of blood coating him. His feet were in constant motion as well, kicking and stomping, anything to try and maim those attacking. He hurt multitudes. Killed even more. But it wasn’t enough.

In vain, h
e attempted to make a stand in front of Cleo, but sheer numbers pushed him away. His companions, Julius and Thaddeus, from the brief glimpses he caught, were also furiously engaged, but while he hated to admit it, short of a miracle, they’d never win.

Some rescue mission this
had turned out to be.

I’m sorry
, Cleo. I didn’t mean to fail you.

From despair to elation.
Cleo couldn’t believe it when Michael appeared like an avenging dark angel and struck down Marc Antony. For a brief moment, she felt hope, and then the demon horde descended.

T
ied to the rack, Cleo could only watch the unfolding, horrifying scene. While only half a second before, she’d warmed. knowing Michael cared enough to seek her, her heart chilled as she realized Marc Antony, anticipating a possible rescue, had laid a trap, a deadly one.

Michael and Julius
, as well as the big shaggy wolf they’d brought with them—whose gaze she recognized as Thaddeus’—attempted to beat the odds. They fought valiantly. Viciously. Swinging and slashing, every strike hitting an enemy. The thrusts of their feet and tearing of their teeth deadly. But it wasn’t enough. Even with Thaddeus’ help, his wolf tearing bloody chunks by the mouthful, they were losing.

Blood dripped from
Michael as he took a stand before her. He tried, oh how he tried, and through their bond she felt his despair, his sorrow that he couldn’t save her. His pace slowed under the relentless assault while Marc Antony, who’d aborted his initial impulse to skulk away, laughed off to the side.

Marc Antony, the bastard who just wouldn’t leave her the fuck alone.

A reddish haze descended and blurred Cleo’s vision.

How dare
he! It wasn’t enough the man used and humiliated me in my first life. Now that I’ve found peace and happiness in a rare second chance, he thinks to take it away.

Anger, pure and white
-hot, burned through her. And burned. It burned brighter than the sun on the desert at high noon. Hotter than the fires in the Pit.

It manifested itself…
and took physical shape.

At first
, she thought she imagined it, but as her rage grew and she seethed helplessly, she realized she was glowing! And getting brighter by the moment.
But what good does glowing in the dark do me?
Did she have other powers that came with her night-light status?

No time like the present to find out.

With a scream of rage, and a few choice bad words that streamed from her without pause— “I’mgoingtoripyourfuckingheadoffyoucocksuckingwhoresonforallyou’vedone!”—she pulled at the bonds that held her. The chains snapped like flimsy thread, and she couldn’t help but laugh, an evil chuckle that cut through the sound of battle and whose sound made Marc Antony turn to her.

He
beheld her with a dropped jaw. “How?”

She smiled and waved.
“Did you really think you could best me? I told you I would make you pay. How dare you think you could hurt me and my consorts?” In the sudden quiet, her voice boomed and echoed, the ripples of it stretching out into the barren wasteland surrounding them.

“Wha
—what are you?”

No idea, but whatever I am, there is power.
Lots of it.
Cleo smelled his fear, an aroma she heartily approved of. For once, she held the upper hand. She grinned, not a reassuring look apparently because Marc squeaked like a frightened mouse and turned to run.

“
Who am I?” She laughed. “I am Cleopatra, goddess and queen, and you will obey me!” She screamed the last bit, all of her ire and frustration flowing out in a cord of power that jerked Marc to a halt and, like a marionette on strings, spun him to face her.

She flicked her hand
, and his feet left the ground. Floating toward her, he gibbered, spittle running down his chin as his eyes flicked about madly, seeking aid.

But his minions no longer supported him. They
’d dropped to the ground with their faces pressed to the dusty ground. An interesting turn of events. But she had other matters to tend to.

Cleo
tapped her chin thoughtfully as she perused the man who’d terrorized her for so long. “What should I do with you? Hmm?”

“Send him back to Hell. We promised him to Lucifer
as we required his aid to save you.”

A pity.
Cleo didn’t look at Michael, but she understood the implication of his words. She needed to send Marc back to Hell. But how? If she killed him where would his spirit go? To the Lord of the Pit, or would it haunt Limbo, thus forsaking Michael’s promise?

G
iven his crimes, killing him was too merciful, however, she contented herself with the knowledge that Lucifer, the king of torture, would know how to hurt Marc, for an eternity. But again, how could she get him to the devil?

The answer came to her with sudden clarity.
She didn’t understand how, but with this power coursing through her, she knew how to do it. First, though, she wanted to make sure Marc Antony understood that she wasn’t to be messed with any further.
Me or any other women. We’ve been his victims long enough.

Drawing on the power coiling all around her
—
how could I have thought Limbo was an empty colorless plane? How clearly I can see the strands of power flickering and floating around me like a silky mist
—she pronounced her punishment, medieval style.

“For looking upon me as a means to power, I blind you.”

Marc wailed as his orbs melted, leaving sightless sockets.

“For the abuse you heaped on me and others, I take your hands.”

Smooth stumps waved around as he wailed even louder.

“For your rape and humiliation of women, I leave you impotent.”

Cleo heard the wince of the men and demons alike behind her as they watched the scene play out.

“And finally, for your lies, I take your words.” The keening abruptly cut off. “Enjoy your stay in Hell.” With a final flourish,
she snapped her fingers in his direction and sent Marc Antony away, to Hades, she assumed. She wasn’t too sure with her new power.

As the source of her irritation disappeared
, so did her hold on the energy around her. The glow emanating from her skin faded along with her anger, but not entirely. She still exuded a silvery radiance as she turned to face her men.

Julius and Thaddeus both watched her with stunned looks
. Actually Julius seemed a little frightened of her, while Thaddeus peeled back his muzzle in a canine grin. But Michael, showing not an ounce of fear, strutted to her.

Through the gaps in his long coat, she could see h
is chest was bloody with gouges. His hair was tousled and his expression grim, but in his eyes, she could see his love for her.

She held out her hand
, and he took it unhesitatingly. “Thank you for coming for me.”

“Always
, my little goddess.” He pulled her into him, hugging her naked and, now that the adrenaline and magic had dissipated, shivering body. He shrugged out of his coat and draped it around her.

“Am I truly
a goddess?” she wondered aloud.
It’s definitely a possible explanation for what happened.

“I hope so because we missed our portal back
to the mortal realm. Do you think with your new magic you can create one so we can go home?”

“
I don’t know.” But for the man who was the other half of her soul, she’d try.

Cleo clamped her eyes shut and pictured her bedroom with its golden bed. She poured
her will into that vision, and when she heard Michael say, “Good girl,” she knew she’d succeeded.

She opened her eyes and saw a swirling portal in front of her. Julius dove through first
, followed by Thaddeus still in his wolf form.

Michael nudged her toward the portal, but Cleo held back for a moment, wanting to do something with their moment alone. “
Wait, I need to say something.” She took a big breath and looked up at her shining vampire angel, the love shining so clear from his eyes, a love for her alone. “You know I would do anything for you, Michael.”

He hugged her, his strength enveloping her.
“I love you too, Cleo, as does Julius,” he added almost as an afterthought.

She looked up at him. “I know you both do. And while I care for Julius and love him, only you are the other half of my soul.”

The smile that stretched his lips was radiant, and his possessive words even more warming. “You are mine, Cleo. I will never let you go and woe to whomever would hurt you. As you’ve seen, I will go to any lengths to protect you. You are my life, Cleo, and while I might share your body for pleasure, know that you belong to me and I to you. Forever.”