The Last of the Red-Hot Vampires (8 page)

I mused for a few moments on the idea of angels being able to be killed, but decided the resulting headache wouldn't be worth it.

“I know this is asking a lot of you to digest in such a short time, but digest it you must. You are a virtue, although you have yet to be admitted into the Court. You are undergoing seven trials to test your fitness for the position. If you fail three of the seven trials, you will be refused admittance, and have your powers stripped from you.”

“I'm going to take a grain of salt approximately the size of Montana, and just pretend that everything you've said is true and not in the least bit impossible. That being so, where exactly do you come into this whole thing?”

He sat back, lacing his fingers together on his belly. “As I mentioned, I am considered fallen. There is only one way a fallen may be redeemed—a pardon must be granted by either a member of the Court, or by a demon lord. The latter is almost impossible to obtain, since demon lords are notoriously shy about releasing someone they consider in their domain. The former is almost as impossible, but it has been done in the past.”

A light began to dawn. “You were chasing Hope because you wanted her to pardon you?”

“I have worked through all of the other members of the Court without success. Hope had always been sympathetic to me, and I believed I could persuade her to grant me a pardon.” He frowned into his glass of whisky. “Unfortunately, something happened at Court to scare her, and she went into hiding. I had just tracked her down when you summoned her. She obviously used the opportunity to pass on her position to you in an attempt to escape whatever trouble she was in.”

“Where angels go, trouble follows,” I quipped.

Theo gave me a look.

“Sorry. So, now you want me to give you this pardon so you can be a member of heaven…er, the Court of Divine Blood again?”

“Yes. It is the only way. For that reason, you must succeed at the trials, thus I must serve as your champion to make sure you pass them.”

My grain of salt grew to encompass North and South Dakota. “That seems like a horrible amount of trouble. Why don't you just go the other route and talk to a demon lord?”

It was amazing how much expression could be seen in his black eyes. Amusement, anger, frustration, sincerity—they'd all been visible during the last twenty-four hours. But at my words, a screen seemed to fall, giving his eyes a dead look. “That would not be wise. Demon lords do not perform favors without exacting a steep price—too steep. I won't do it.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” I swallowed the last of my drink and set the glass down on the cocktail napkin, smiling as I stood up. “Thank you for the drink, and for not abducting me. It's been a trying day, so I think I'll be going to bed.”

Theo slowly got to his feet. “You don't believe anything I've said, do you?”

“No. It was creative, though. You should talk to Sarah about writing it all down. I bet it would make a good book.”

“You don't believe that I am a nephilim.”

“Nope. I think you're an extremely handsome, quite possibly troubled man, but as for the fallen business? I'm afraid not.”

I walked to the stairs that led to my room on the upper floor. Theo followed me.

“You don't believe that you and you alone have the power to save me?”

The laughter that burbled forward died in my throat at the look in his eyes. I stopped in front of my door, oddly disconcerted. “Theo, despite everything you've done to me, despite all the trouble you've been, I kind of like you. If there is something
real
I can do to help you, I would consider it, but this…” I waved my hands around in a vague attempt to explain. “This is beyond me.”

He took a step closer to me, and his woodsy scent curled around me. “All you have to do is believe, Portia. You just have to have faith.”

There was that word again. “I lost my faith when I was eight. It is long gone, never to return.”

His jaw tightened. “Then I will help you find it in return for your assistance.”

I did laugh that time, even though the expression on his face was one of grim determination. “Putting aside the fact that I am getting along just fine without faith of any sort, just how do you expect to do that?”

“The third trial is tomorrow.” He took my chin in his hand, tipping my head back to look deep into my eyes. “It will be very difficult.”

“More old ladies beating the crap out of me? I could really do without that.”

He leaned closer, and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me right there, outside my room. “I will make a deal with you—if you can give me proof that the trial is mundane, I will serve as your champion without requiring you to pardon me when you are admitted to the Court. If you cannot provide proof, you will accept the truth, and will reward me when you are accepted.”

“Mundane?” I asked, more than a little distracted by his nearness. Theo was an imposing presence by any standard, but when he was close enough that I could count individual hairs in his widow's peak, he was almost overwhelming.

“Ordinary. Not supernatural.”

I smiled. “Oddly enough, I have a similar bet going with Sarah. I don't think taking on another comer will be a problem. You, sir, have yourself a deal.”

He took the hand I offered, a light kindling in his eyes. “Shall I show you how a deal was sealed a thousand years ago?”

His lips brushed mine as he spoke, and before I could decide what I wanted to do about the overwhelming urge to kiss him, I was doing just that, my mouth opening to welcome his, my body all but melting when his fingers dug into my hips, pulling them against his. I am not the most feminine of women, but the steely, unyielding hardness of his body made me very aware that I possessed more curves than I had given much thought to. His mouth was demanding, hot, tasting faintly smoky from the whisky, insisting that I give him what he wanted. I had no qualms at all about kissing him, going so far as to jerk the back of his shirt out of his pants so my hands could slide up his back.

“
Salus,
woman, do you have any idea how good you taste,” he growled into my mouth, one hand sliding around to cup my behind, the other sweeping up to my breast.

“It's the lime in the gin and tonic,” I answered, unable to keep from wiggling my hips against him.

He growled again, deep in his chest, his eyes molten with sexual desire. He caressed my breast beneath the velvet of the dress, ever so slightly tweaking my nipple. “Of all the women on this planet, why do you have to be one who will fight me every step of the way?”

“Some men like the chase,” I said breathlessly, arching my back to press more of my breast into his hand. I trailed my fingernails down his back, causing him to shiver as my hands dipped lower, to his oh-so-attractive derriere.

“I prefer the yielding that follows,” he said just before he kissed me again, a kiss of so much blatant sexuality that I seriously considered the possibility of going to bed with him.

Luckily, Sarah chose that moment to use the bathroom next door to her room.

“Well!” Her voice was rich with amusement. I had no doubt of the picture we made—me groping his behind, while he had one hand on my breast, our bodies locked in a sensual embrace.

Theo and I parted, although he kept his hands on me as he half turned to look at Sarah.

She grinned at us both, and winked at me before proceeding to the bathroom. “I'm glad to see you're taking my advice about
something.
”

“It was just a kiss.”

“You said that three times already. Would you turn off that light?” Sarah plumped up a pillow behind her, and tucked the coverlet firmly over her legs before sitting back.

“A perfectly innocent kiss!”

“Honey, there was
nothing
innocent about that kiss,” she said with a knowing look.

I stomped over to the light she had left burning on the desk and turned it off, feeling awkward and unsure of myself. I don't know why I felt compelled to explain that the kiss Theo and I shared was not what it seemed, but there I was, wringing my hands as I tried to sort through my emotions and thoughts.

“I find him physically attractive even though he's got some issues,” I explained. “There's nothing wrong with a healthy libido.”

“Nothing at all, especially when the recipient of your attentions is a gorgeous angel. I looked up nephilim while you were occupied with Theo. That's what a nephilim is, you know. Kind of a sub-angel, the result of a union between—”

“Oh, I know all about that,” I said, waving my hands around for a moment before I was aware of what I was doing. I am not at all the hand-waving sort of person. “It's part of this tale he spun me. That's neither here nor there—what I want to know is what is going to come of a relationship with a lunatic!”

“I thought you said it was just your libido?”

“It is!” I shoved the chair aside just because I could. “But you know me—I don't do casual sex, so if things progress beyond kissing, I'm going to end up in a relationship. With a madman!”

“Theo isn't a madman,” Sarah said calmly, picking up the book she'd brought to read on the vacation.

“Well, maybe not mad by the strictest definition of the word, but you have to admit that he's not normal.”

“Of course he isn't. He's immortal. Are you done trying to convince yourself that he's not handsome as sin, and twice as delicious?”

“I did not—oh, you're impossible!” I said loudly. “And speaking of that, you sure changed your tune quick enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yesterday you were positively drooling over Theo.”

Sarah looked surprised for a moment. “Don't be ridiculous—I'm happily married, which you know.”

“That didn't stop you from ogling Theo yesterday.” I refused to examine why it bothered me that she had ogled him. It couldn't possibly be important.

“Oh, that was before,” she said, returning to her book as she waved a dismissive hand toward me.

“Before what?”

“Before Theo explained he wasn't for me.”

I sat on the chair, staring at Sarah, confused by her calm acceptance of the short-lived lust she had felt for Theo. “Aren't you the least bit disconcerted about the fact that Theo interested you? Should happily married women feel that sort of thing?”

“They should if the man in question is a nephilim.” She sighed at my puzzled look. “I thought you knew about nephilims? Didn't Theo tell you that they have an effect on mortal women?”

“No, he didn't.” I frowned.

“Ah. Well, that's why I initially fell victim to his attractive self. He dismissed the effect once he realized I was being affected by it.”

I shoved myself out of the chair and stalked to the far side of the room. “He didn't dismiss it for me!”

“That's because you weren't affected by him in the first place. That's interesting, actually. It could mean he's the real deal, at least so far as you and he are concerned,” she said, looking thoughtful.

That was a thought. I considered that for a moment, then decided it was yet another distraction I didn't need in my life. I wished Sarah good night, and left her to her book.

I slept poorly, waking up roughly every hour to find myself wrapped in vague remnants of nightmares. The unease caused by the nightmares hung over me all day, leaving me feeling itchy and nervous even though we spent a delightfully normal day touring a nearby castle, during which no ghosts, ghouls, specters, or phantoms of any sort manifested themselves.

“It was nice to have a day where the oddest thing we encountered was that woman who insisted on bringing her parrot on the castle tour,” I commented at dinner that night.

Sarah glanced toward the door of our private dining room, nodding. “Although I could have done without you expounding
at length
about how much force would have to be supplied to rip someone's limb off while on the rack.”

“You are the one who insisted on seeing the torture chamber. I was simply answering a question of physics.”

Sarah gave me a look that spoke volumes, glancing once again over my shoulder at the door before eating a bite of garlic-roasted potato. I pushed a clump of limp broccoli to the side of my plate, and rearranged a bit of hollandaise sauce more attractively around a mound of poached salmon.

Sarah looked past me again.

“For Pete's sake, will you stop that! You're making me as nervous as a cat.”

“Aha!” Sarah waved her fork, bedecked with a piece of pork loin, at me. “I knew it! And you said you weren't nervous earlier when I asked you when today's trial was going to be.”

“I wasn't nervous until you started looking over my shoulder every five seconds.” I set down my fork and stopped pretending to enjoy the meal. “Oh, this is ridiculous. I'm letting myself get all worked up over nothing. Obviously whoever is Theo's cohort of the day has had a change of heart. So you can stop looking over my shoulder for him, because he's probably decided we're not worth what must be a sizeable outlay of money to pull off whatever scheme he's attempting.”

Sarah chewed the bit of pork. “How you can sit there and deny that Theo is exactly what he says he is—”

“I deny it because it's perfectly clear he's a con man—”

“A man you think is sexy as hell—”

“Well of course I do! He is! But that doesn't excuse the fact that he's trying to pull some scheme—”

“Admit it, Portia.” Sarah speared another bit of potato. “Part of the attraction he holds for you is his undeniable air of mystery, that dangerous sense of the unknown that sends shivers down your back every time he's near. No woman can turn away from that—it's a scientific fact that bad boys are completely irresistible! Give in to your inner woman and just admit he chimes your bells because of what he is.”

I pushed back from the table, tossing down my napkin. “You're impossible when you're in that sort of a mood. You're sure you don't want me to go with you tonight?”

“No, you take the evening off. You wouldn't enjoy sitting in a graveyard with the clairaudients, anyway.”

I smiled instead of giving her a piece of my mind about the so-called skill of recording the voices of the dead, and mentioned that I'd amuse myself instead with a walk around the countryside.

“That's a great idea—your mind will be refreshed by the walk for the next trial.”

My smile turned wry. “Whatever. Have fun in the graveyard.”

“Maybe we should call Theo,” Sarah mused to her dinner as I headed out of the room. “Maybe he would know what's up with the trial…”

Once in my room, I stripped off the only other dress I'd brought with me on the trip, shaking my head at myself for dressing up just because I expected to see Theo sometime during the day. I pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, garb much more suitable for tramping around the countryside than the bright dress I'd put on that morning, wondering as I did if Theo liked red.

I hesitated as I pulled a pair of tennis shoes from the wardrobe, glancing down at the black silk-and-lace teddy I was wearing, my mind shying away from the reason I'd put it on that morning. “Oh, for heaven's sake, it's just underwear, not a world crisis,” I told myself after an indecisive minute, turning around to grab my jeans. “Just get dressaieeee!”

The floors in England seemed to be particularly prone to non-traditional behavior, for the boards that had served so solidly beneath my feet suddenly opened up into a hole, through which I fell in startled fear. “What the…ooof!”

“Good evening. My name is Noelle. I'm a Guardian, and I'll be acting as the proctor for your third trial.” I had fallen what seemed to be a deceptively short distance, landing on a stone floor with a thump that stung my ankles, and jarred my teeth painfully. “Erm…do you know that you're just wearing a teddy?”

Someone had set a couple of portable camp lights on a shelf in an arched inset in the wall, the light pooling on the floor in front of me. The voice came from behind. I spun around, my eyes widening as I took in the large stone sarcophagus upon which a young, red-haired woman sat.

“I have shoes,” I said, holding out my tennis shoes, wincing to myself at just how inane that sounded. “I was in the middle of getting dressed. I wasn't expected to be sucked down to…where exactly are we?”

“Crypt,” Noelle said, giving me a rueful smile as she slid off the top of the sarcophagus. “Sorry about the bad timing, but I've had a day from Abaddon—literally!—and couldn't get to the trial until now. Oh well, it'll soon be over, and you can go back to your dressing. Why don't you put on your shoes, and we'll get started.”

I walked over to her and pressed my fingers to her shoulder. She certainly felt real. Which could only mean one thing.

Her eyebrows rose. “You look confused. Is there a problem?”

There were so many problems I couldn't begin to frame them in my mind, let alone explain to her the trouble I had with accepting the fact that I'd just been teleported to some unknown crypt.

“No,” I answered in what sounded like a choked voice. I cleared my throat and tried again. “It's nothing outright insanity wouldn't explain.”

“Oh, good.” She smiled again, and gestured toward the center of the crypt. On the floor, an elaborate circle with several symbols had been drawn upon it. “Shoes?”

“Of course,” I said, putting on my tennis shoes. “The insanity isn't going to be complete without the idea of me standing around in nothing but lingerie and tennies.”

“It's a very pretty teddy,” Noelle said, walking around to the back. “I like the straps on the side. Oh, it's not a thong. Good on you. I hate thongs—they're always getting places they shouldn't be.”

I shook my head at myself, wondering if the rest of my life—now that I'd clearly gone quite, quite insane—would follow this pattern, or if some kind friend or family member would see to it that I got the mental help I needed.

“Ready?”

Noelle's voice brought me out of a reverie where I spent endless years learning how to write with my feet because my arms were confined by a straitjacket. “Sure, why not? I've got nothing to lose, right?”

She made a face, and looked down the room to a doorway that lurked in the darkness. “Well…let's just say that you really need to get this one right. Right. Champion, you may enter the room.”

It didn't surprise me in the least (one of the perks of now being deranged) when Theo strolled into the room. He stopped after a few steps, pursing his lips as he looked me over from toes to head.

“That's…a new look for you,” he finally said, having taken his time in the perusal.

“I didn't have a thing to wear,” I said with a firm smile. “Besides, what does it matter? I'm just along for the ride now.”

“I like it, regardless.” His gaze flickered between my breasts and my face. “What ride would that be?”

“The highway to dementia. Want to come along?”

He sighed and only just kept from rolling his eyes. “You are not insane, Portia.”

“No, of course not. It's perfectly ordinary to be teleported to a crypt, so I can stand around in my undies waiting to…” I turned to Noelle. “What exactly am I waiting to do?”

“Defeat a demon,” she said, stepping backward until she was in the shadow of the crypt room. “You may begin…now!”

I don't know what I expected a demon to look like—probably a short, squat red-skinned beast with horns, cloven feet, and a pointy tail—but the teenage boy who appeared in the circle did not scream demon to me.

Until the little shit opened his mouth. “Nice tits,” the boy leered, reaching out as if he was going to honk them.

“Stay out of the circle,” Theo commanded as he flung himself onto the boy.

“Why do you get to go in it?” I asked.

The demon teen spun around screaming, trying to pick Theo off his back, but Theo was bigger and stronger, and kept the teen's arms pinned behind him.

“Just defeat it while I'm subduing it,” he grunted, twisting to avoid the demon's attempt at a backward butt.

“Defeat it how?” I looked around the crypt. I had no idea what it took to beat a demon, not that they really existed except in my own delusions. “You'd think that if my mind was going to snap and go to the trouble of imagining all this, it would give me a big demon-bashing club, or a cool samurai sword, or something like that.”

“Use your Gift,” Theo said, grunting as the demon jerked them both forward.

“The weather thing? You've got to be kidding.”

“Just use it!”

The demon suddenly kicked up his legs, twisting at the same time, pulling Theo to the floor where the two of them wrestled inside the circle.

I parked my hands on my hips. “I doubt rain is going to do anything but make him more slippery to hold. Ow. That had to hurt. Um. Noelle, can you help us?”

Her voice came out of the shadows, filled with regret. “I am the proctor. I cannot assist you in any way or the trial would be void.”

“Portia, use your damned powers!” Theo demanded. He was sitting on the demon, who was pinned to the floor, but writhing with what looked like incredible strength. The demon bit Theo on the wrist, drawing blood.