The Demon and the Succubus (18 page)

Semiazas
materialized on the floor of the Aegean Sea in front of a shin-high wall made of rock that ran for a mile along the sea floor in a perfectly straight line. Sea creatures had made their homes on top and along the sides, obscuring it from prying eyes along with the general sense of aversion that permeated the entire area.

Many humans had explored the area and surmised that this was the site of the ill-fated Atlantis, but no mere single human could unlock the quarantined world. The entire human consciousness had to attract its return. A certain wavelength of ideas and energy brought about by free will and the humans’ propensity for information sharing.

Semiazas smiled, small bubbles escaping from between his lips to make their way slowly up to the surface of the sea while his hair waved lazily in the icy depths.

He’d already placed three of the four journals and those ideas were even now speeding around the world thanks to the Internet and social networking sites. This was the perfect time in history to achieve his goals.

The energy from the horsemen pulsed and throbbed just under the sea floor as if they were impatient to be unleashed. They sensed him here, sensed his power and his willingness to see them once again free to roam and mete out their justice unto the world.

Their angry voices merged inside his head as they demanded to be set free.

“Soon. Very soon.” He laughed, the sound making an echoing warbling sound under the water as he dematerialized picturing his room where he’d left Sadie up on the surface.

A few seconds later, he rematerialized perfectly dry and comfortable just inside the small room he’d rented here on the island of Santorini.

The woman he’d spent the night with lay on the bed facedown and naked, the sunlight spilling in through the blinds falling across her pale skin in bright slices. Her blond hair spilled across the white sheets and her left leg was slightly bent, leaving her slick, pink pussy open to his hungry view.

She reminded him of Gabriel in certain ways—as long as she didn’t open her mouth and ruin the illusion.

Sadie was insatiable in bed. She liked things hard and inventive and never complained about his rough treatment—in fact she seemed to thrive on it.

After his very satisfying afternoon of fucking several whores at Sinner’s Redemption and then using Ronald’s body to burn down the entire place, he’d come back here and found another woman to spend the night with. He’d fucked her all night in every way imaginable, trying to push her past her limits, make her beg him to stop—not that he would have. But she’d kept up with him, always ready for more.

He wasn’t sure if he should be frustrated or impressed that he’d failed in his objective.

She certainly wasn’t as much maintenance as Gabriel.

In fact, if he could just fuck this woman and keep her from speaking, Semiazas was able to pretend he was sinking his cock inside Gabriel once more.

It had been such a long time since Gabriel’s betrayal. He’d hoped in time that she would see the error of her ways and join him by supporting Lucifer, but instead she clung to the ill-informed view that God still had a plan.

Semiazas laughed quietly. Hadn’t any of the Archangels noticed that Michael and Lucifer ran things, not God?

Armageddon would bring about enlightenment. Then Gabriel would see. She would understand what he’d been trying to tell her all along.

His cock swelled inside his trousers as he thought about Gabriel crawling back to him, admitting she’d been wrong and begging him for forgiveness. A quick glance toward the bed showed him the perfect outlet for his appetites and he quickly shrugged out of his clothes and advanced on her.

When the voices of the horsemen still rang inside his head, he shoved them aside. Their time was coming soon, and until then Semiazas was determined to live in the moment.

Jethro walked slowly
down the stairs as a vast emptiness bottomed out inside the pit of his stomach. Deep down he’d always known Amalya only thought of him as a loyal friend, but stupidly, he’d held out hope that she would grow to love him in time.

She’d never led him on or hinted at anything more, so he had only himself to blame, regardless of what he’d said to her back inside the room. His lack of anger told him just how long he’d been lying to himself and holding out false hope.

At the bottom of the stairs, the smell of the food he’d cooked hit him. He headed into the kitchen, not because he was hungry, but because he had nowhere else to go.

When he entered Levi and Raphael glanced up from their plates.

Levi looked like hell, and a small surge of jealous satisfaction spilled through him at the thought. It might be a very petty reaction, but apparently he wasn’t above them at this point.

Raphael, on the other hand, looked like a business executive who dressed like a biker on the weekends with his clean-cut hair, regal bearing, all-black leathers, and shit-kicker boots. Only the wave of power that prickled against Jethro’s skin like electricity ruined the illusion of Raphael being only a badass human.

“How is she?” Levi’s voice was tight.

“She’s awake and feeling better. I suspect she’s going to clean up a bit before joining us.” A small flash of guilt assaulted him and he looked away, not wanting to meet Levi’s gaze. He had no fucking clue what Amalya would do now and was trying hard to convince himself he didn’t care. With an internal sigh, he sat at the table and took a roll, breaking off a small chunk of the still-steaming bread as he turned to Raphael. “So, how did you find us, and who the hell are you?”

Raphael smiled, clearly not offended by Jethro’s rude greeting.

“I’m the Archangel Raphael, and I’m a friend of Lilith’s.” He took a large drink of what appeared to be iced tea and after exchanging a glance with Levi turned his full gaze on Jethro.

Jethro winced away. The insides of his mind were still raw and aching from the last time he’d met Raphael’s gaze directly; he had no desire for a repeat performance.

Raphael smiled which made him look like a guilty little boy. “I apologize for the soul gaze upstairs. I needed to get to Amalya quickly and gaining your cooperation that way seemed easiest at the time.”

“Soul gaze?”

“Archangels have the ability to look inside someone’s soul by looking into their eyes and then past them.”

Jethro huffed out an amused breath. “So they weren’t kidding when they said the eyes are the windows to the soul.”

Raphael shrugged. “That saying came from times when humans were open minded to the supernaturals and most of us didn’t hide our identities while traveling among you.”

Jethro shook his head, sorry he’d said anything. He didn’t want a history lesson. Right now he wasn’t sure what he wanted. “Thank you for saving Amalya, but if it’s all the same to you, I don’t think I’ll be looking you in the eye any time soon.”

Raphael laughed. “You have my word there will be no more soul gazes today, is that good enough?”

After a long moment of deliberation, Jethro slowly raised his gaze. Trusting an Archangel might seem like a no-brainer, but Jethro had learned that everyone lied about something—especially supernaturals. Anyway, at this point, he didn’t seem to have much choice.

“So Lilith sent you?”

Raphael shook his head. “No. The blood brought me.”

Jethro frowned at the wording. “So you’re called to anywhere where there’s blood?”

Levi laid his fork on his plate. “Are you going to eat that roll or just fondle it?” He pointed toward the roll Jethro still held in his hand. “I, for one, don’t care how Raphael got here since he saved Amalya. I think our next question should be if he can help us get past the shades.”

Jethro placed the small piece of roll he’d ripped off earlier inside his mouth and forced himself to chew. As the yeasty warm taste exploded inside his mouth, his stomach tightened with hunger and he ignored it. “I would’ve thought with all the time you two have had together down here, getting us past the shades would’ve already been a topic of conversation.”

Raphael laid his fork across his plate and then pushed it away. “Unfortunately, the shades are out of my control. They will be attracted to energy sources, and Amalya will attract them even more than before with all my blood running through her veins.”

Jethro nearly crushed the roll in his fist. “Aren’t you an Archangel? Why can’t—”

Raphael held up one large hand, cutting Jethro off mid-rant. “I’m an Archangel, but believe it or not, we have to operate within the rules of the universe too. Every creature needs sustenance of some kind. For you two, it’s food and water; for Amalya, it’s those as well as sexual energy. For the shades, it’s only energy. However, they have started to move toward the cities where there are larger populations of humans.”

“So the swarm of shades is gone?” Levi pushed away from the table and paced to the back window.

Jethro thought about looking out a different window when he realized how drained he was and stayed put. He needed food and sleep in any order he could get them, and the situation upstairs with Amalya had drained the last of his reserves, which had run purely on hope and ego.

“I only see one.” Relief tinged Levi’s voice. “That’s definitely a good sign.”

Jethro nodded. “We should probably bury the farmer.”

“I’ve already taken care of both him and his wife.” Raphael stood and grabbed the plate in front of Jethro before going to the counter and filling it with pasta and green beans.

“Where was his wife?” Jethro exchanged a glance with Levi that showed him the other man hadn’t known about this piece of news either.

“She was out in the barn. Both have been returned to dust, their souls moved onto the next plane to start again along with their horses, cow, and two chickens.”

“To start again?” Levi echoed the question Jethro had been about to ask.

Raphael grinned. “I don’t think now is the proper time to have a discussion on the nature of the universe or the cycle of the soul.” He set the plate in front of Jethro and handed him a clean fork. “You need to eat. You’ll do nobody any good neglecting your health. Eat, then you two are going to get some sleep.”

Jethro thought about arguing, but lethargy was already slipping over him like a heavy blanket. He ate mechanically. The only clue that he’d finished was when his plate was empty and Raphael took it away and ordered him off to sleep. “Amalya,” he mumbled, unwilling to leave her unprotected even though things between them were shaky right now.

“I’ll watch over her,” Levi said automatically.

“No,” Raphael countered. “
I’ll
watch over her. You two will sleep.”

Without remembering how he’d gotten there, Jethro found himself lying on the couch in the living room with a blanket thrown over him. He only had time to frown at the gap in his memory before sleep claimed him.

Amalya
stepped out of the master bathroom to find a large man sitting on the bed watching her. An Archangel if the energy pouring off him to prickle against her skin was any indication.

Fuzzy memories of his dark gaze, so much like Levi’s, flashed through her mind and she frowned as the full memory remained just out of her reach.

“Greetings, Amalya. I’m Raphael.”

She held on to the large towel she’d wrapped around her body when she’d stepped out of the shower—more an insecure reaction in front of a being so powerful than any sense of modesty. “My lord,” she said remembering the appropriate greeting for an Archangel as she resolutely stared at his nose rather than his dark eyes.

Raphael’s laugh boomed around the room. “There’s no need to fear a soul gaze from any of the Archangels anymore. With my blood running through your veins, you’re now immune.”

As the truth of his statement radiated against her, the sensation of choking came back to Amalya with unnerving clarity and she raised her hand to her throat.

She remembered the viscous liquid forced down her throat in between quick breaths. Panic surged through her and she glared at Raphael. “You made me drink your blood.” She swallowed back the knee-jerk reaction of her stomach heaving at the thought.

He had the grace to look apologetic. “You’d been eviscerated by a demon. If I hadn’t healed you and forced that blood down your throat you’d be dead and we’d all be in trouble.”

“The demon . . .” As if Raphael’s words unlocked another barrage of fuzzy memories, Amalya remembered the heavy sensation of someone pressing down on her and then the agony as her bones broke and her flesh ripped open.

She hadn’t realized her legs had buckled until Raphael caught her and gently sat her on the edge of the bed. “Easy now. You’ve had a rough few days.”

Amalya bristled at his kind tone. “Damn it. I’m a strong, independent woman. I’ve spent more time being coddled over the last few days than I have my entire life. And I’m sick of it.”