Redemption (A NOVEL OF THE SEVEN SIGNS) (21 page)

She kept her distance, eyes shadowed.

“Take it, lady. He can’t hurt you now.”

She snatched the pistol, and held it awkwardly, like she’d never shot before.

Who the hell lives in Babylon and doesn’t own a gun?
Japheth showed her, impatient, coaxing her hands into a
secure two-handed grip. “Safety. Sight here. Squeeze, don’t yank. Next time some animal tries that? Put a bullet in his head.” And he hefted the guy’s limp body over his shoulder, and flashed out before she could try out any of her newfound skills on his prey.

CHAPTER 18

Rose tumbled in an endless, burning pit of thirst.

Darkness ravaged her. Need tore her open inside, exposing her raw flesh and torturing it. She wailed, and raked ripped nails over her skin, but it didn’t stop the yearning. Every nerve ending hung ragged, teased to horrible agony by the emptiness inside. So empty, she’d never be filled, no matter how she howled and bit and hurt herself…

“Rose.”

She moaned, helpless. A trick. No one was there. No one to save her, touch her, give her what she needed so very badly…

“Rose.” Insistent this time. Fingers brushed her hair. She grabbed for them, desperate, until they folded over hers, soothing, stroking her face… She caught the crisp spice-latte scent of feathers, and choked on a scream. Japheth. She snapped ravenous fangs, but caught on nothing, and she ground her jaw in frustration…

“Rose, wake up. Time to eat.” Something nudged her lips. Delicious salty scent wafted. Skin. Human skin, a delicious arterial pulse, thundering beneath the thinnest of layers.

Disgusting. Delectable. She loathed it. She needed it. The
thirst groaned inside her, rich with desire. She was wet, aching, her breasts heavy, longing for release…

But the human lay limp. Unresisting. Unconscious.

She reeled, confusion salting her desire.
Jesus Christ. He’s feeding me. He’s brought a human, and he’s
feeding
me
…

Shame wrenched her heart.
I can’t do this. Not in front of him
…

But the redolent skin brushed her lips again, offering like a lover, and her control shattered. Sobbing, she arched her neck. Her fangs strained, juddering in anticipation. She cracked her aching jaws wide, and struck.

The skin broke, and blood erupted into her mouth.

Oh my god.
Delight exploded inside her. Her thighs quivered, like that lover was licking her clit and wouldn’t stop. It
spurted
, that liquid sunshine, squirting in time with her heartbeat, and with every swallow, the knot in her belly twisted tighter, deeper, hotter…

“Peace, Rose. It’s okay.” A distant voice cut through her trance. God, she was moaning, she’d buried her hands in this limp human’s ragged hair, his blood ran down her chin and her chest… The human wriggled feebly, and his heartbeat galloped in panic.

But it only made the blood taste better.

“Drink it up. Go on, now.”

She drank harder, sucking as deeply as she knew how. Pleasure thrummed like harp strings. Her stomach swelled, tight, but she didn’t care. Her nipples sprang hard, every movement a torture. Her sex ached, and with every suck, she flexed her body and her sensitive flesh rubbed against her jeans and nothing ever felt so good…

She gasped, hungry for more. The prey’s heartbeat skipped, now, weak, fighting to stay alive, and she knew she didn’t have long. But her pleasure teetered on a precipice, ready to fall into screaming completion…

Cold-wire dread pierced her. She should stop. He was dying. It wasn’t right…but she was nearly finished, she was going to come, God, she was going to
explode
, and all because Japheth had…

Like an ice bath, the thought shocked her heart still.

Japheth had fetched her this prey. And now he watched, while she killed a man and had an
orgasm
over it…

She ripped her teeth free, and shoved the dying man away. Her shuddering flesh wailed in protest, the tension crippling her, but she bore it. God, it was awful, his limp limbs, his rolling eyes, his sweat… “No more,” she gasped, eyes watering. “Please, no more.”

*   *   *

Japheth held the gasping woman in his arms. He’d never seen hunger like it. Never seen a creature overcome by thirst, her eyes inflamed, fever raging like a bonfire to consume all sense. She’d moaned, wallowed, gorged herself on that despicable killer’s blood.

And then she’d stopped.

He couldn’t fathom it. She’d given in. Surrendered to the darkness, yearning for the shattering release that only feeding to the death could bring…and she’d
stopped
.

Japheth fought ugly confusion. He’d felt the strength in her muscles, sharpened to inhuman power by demonspells and thirst. Easily, she could’ve sucked out the last drop of life.

Only one explanation fitted.

She didn’t
want
to kill.

Was she trying to impress him? Doubtful. He’d seen the disgust in her gaze. Female curiosity, sure, but mostly hellspawn’s hatred for everything holy. Besides, that thirst of hers was…passionate. Urgent. All-consuming. No space left for reason or calculation.

A vampire who refused to kill her victims. Astonishing.

Warmth breathed unbidden on Japheth’s icy heart. Brave, this Rose Harley. Strong. In the face of overwhelming temptation, she’d resisted. And she’d won.

He closed his eyes, blocking out the glaring light.

He knew what that felt like. Longing for things you shouldn’t take. Denying your secret desires. Letting what you craved slip away.

Control. Self-denial.
Not
how evil was supposed to behave.

In his lap, Rose writhed and fought, tears slipping on her cheeks. “Help me.” Her broken plea made his bones ache. “Please, just get him away!”

Her anguish stung him into movement. Swiftly he scooped up the bleeding body—still breathing, he noticed dimly—and flung it away. It skidded across the floorboards on a patina of red fluid. He didn’t care. Always, a mess to clean up in this job.

But nothing compared to the mess she lay in. Blood, tears, his melted wits. It wasn’t right. She didn’t deserve to wallow in gore.

He swept her up, and swooped to his bathroom.

White lights sprang on as he entered. Too strong, glaring on the mirrored walls. No dimmer switch. He’d never wanted to turn them down before. Soft lighting was an indulgence. Either you needed to see, or you didn’t.

But Rose was shivering, weak with fever. Limp and vulnerable in his arms. She stank of blood, sure, but beneath the filth he tasted hot salt. She was ashamed. Humiliated. Mortified.

His pulse quickened, disbelieving.
She can’t care what I think. She loathes me, everything I am.

But that burning brine on his tongue didn’t lie.

“Lights off,” he ordered, and they obeyed, throwing the room into shadow. Only the light from the living room angled in. He ruffled his feathers, shedding a soft golden glow. Better.

His inner Dashiel snorted.
Take care, kid, your soft side is showing
…

He jerked the glass shower door open with a wingtip, and lowered her feet to the white tiles.

Rose stumbled, bleary-eyed. “Wh…?”

“Hey, girl.” His voice cracked on the unaccustomed gentleness. This was weird. He’d never put anyone in his shower before, least of all a woman covered in blood. A beautiful, troubled, deeply humiliated woman, who addled his senses and stirred his desire, no matter how he pretended it wasn’t happening…

“Where are we?” She blinked, confused, like she’d woken from a nightmare. Her fangs had slipped away, sated. She didn’t look monstrous. Just a blood-smeared girl, numb with shock. A girl who needed protection, and comfort.

He still had his arm around her. Her warm breasts pressed
against his chest. His body tingled all over. God, she felt treacherously good. Sweet, not to be at odds with her for once. To share something more than snarky retorts.

That she trusted him enough to let him bathe her.

Hot glitter stung his feathers, and he fought it, shaking. He wanted to peel off those blood-soaked clothes and rinse her clean. Slide his hands through her dripping hair, over her breasts, her ass, kneel between her tight warrior’s thighs and taste the trembling flesh between…

Hell of a way to repay her trust.

Japheth swallowed, struggling to recall her question. “Uh…we’re at my place. You’re okay. Stand up for me.” He leaned over to ease her boots off, one by one. Her socks were mismatched, one pink and one gray. Old, torn, like she’d scrounged them from somewhere. He peeled them off. Her pale feet looked so tiny and delicate.

She leaned against him, exhausted. The bloodstains didn’t bother him. They only made her more vulnerable. He straightened, awkward. “Um… I’m going to put the water on. You, uh…you say if it’s too hot, okay?”

Shit, he didn’t know how to do this. Didn’t know how to be
kind
. Sweet mercy.
What happened to you, Jae?

“Shower,” he whispered, “soft, hundred and ten.”

Hot water rained on Rose’s upturned face. Not the cold spiky spray he was used to, but a gentle, soothing flood. Blood washed over the white porcelain, swirling in scarlet rivulets down the drain.

Clumsily, he stroked her hair, pulling out her ruined braid, rinsing out the gore. It felt nice, the hot water tingling his hands…

Rose murmured, fumbling at his fingers, and immediately he let go, mortified. Surely, she’d raise those snapping dark eyes and cut him down with a sarcastic remark.

But she didn’t. She just stared, hair plastered to her cheeks under the flood, an unnamable dark tide rising in her eyes. “Why?”

“Huh?” The best he could manage. The sight of her, soaking in bloody rain, stabbed guilty blades deep into his heart. What he’d done was wrong, on so many levels.

But the poisoned ache felt right.

“You fed me.” She coughed, blood staining her lips. “You helped me. You could’ve just left me to die. Why?”

Replies flitted through his brain, all of them unspeakable.
I felt sorry for you. I lied and I’m trying to make amends. I didn’t want to leave you. I remembered what it felt like to kiss you and I didn’t want
you
to leave
me…

God, this was ridiculous. Hatred, he could cope with. Anger. Desire, even, just an obstacle to be overcome or avoided. Pain, merely penance for his weakness. But this cursed
compassion
…

His thoughts clattered like falling rocks, until his head ached trying to comprehend.
It’s not possible. We have nothing in common, this demon’s child and I
…

But even as he hammered the lie into his brain, he knew it for what it was.

They were the same. She fought her ugly hunger, just as he did. In the face of hell-dark impulses, she’d kept her dignity. Tried her best not to give in.

Didn’t that mean she deserved a second chance?

His heart cracked, and seething horror poured out.

No.
That evil revelation was the devil, whispering foul lies in his empty soul. He wanted to bleed, break, scream his confusion to heaven. Claw his eyeballs out, blind himself so he wouldn’t see what glared before him.

But he couldn’t unthink that awful thought.

And he knew this brave woman deserved better than empty platitudes he’d learned by heart centuries ago. She deserved the truth. Even if it ripped his absent soul to bleeding.

So he swallowed, and iced his nerves, and gave her the best answer he had.