Tigress (Night Hawk Series) (3 page)

BOOK: Tigress (Night Hawk Series)
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Chapter
Six

 

I stood in the shadows, at least a foot away from the edge of the sun streak on the floor. Naomi stood in the doorway with her face tilted into the sun and a blanket wrapped around her to try to ward off the frigid wind. My gaze kept scanning what I could of the opening for any sign of danger; although I had no idea what I would do if a demon showed up and grabbed her off the threshold.

“Naomi?”

She turned and smiled, the sheer joy in her expression dug into my stomach like a bullet.

This
was the closest to daylight I had been in years. Sure, I had seen the beginning of a sunrise before it hit the horizon, but that light was wrapped in a rainbow of colors. This whiteness beyond Naomi’s form actually stung my eyes and I squinted into it.

My
heart throbbed in my throat every second the door was open with Naomi in the full view of the brutal mountainside. She finally shivered and stepped inside, closed the door and engaged the locks. Naomi nearly skipped across the distance and stopped in front of me with that sparkle in her eyes that she used to get whenever I walked into a room.

“As
soon as the sun sets, we’ll head east.” I turned, escaping back to the depths of the cave I built. I sank onto the couch and leaned my head back on the headrest, running my hands through my hair.

Naomi
took a seat next to me and put her hand on my thigh, the heat of it filtered through my jeans and she looked at me. “Damian, we’ll figure this out.”

I
met her gaze. “How?”

She
shrugged. “We’ll find a way.”

“Baby,
what if there isn’t.” I had to know what was on her mind, even though deep down, I knew she would be my undoing one way or another.

Her
hand withdrew and she sighed, glancing around the room and then back at me. “I married you for better or worse. Till death do us part, remember?”

I
rolled my eyes and stood, crossing the room to the mural. I stared at the likeness of us on canvas, the painting that I created around the time Christ was born.

“You’d
stay married to a man who can’t be with you in the sun and kills for sport when the sun sets?” I said, skirting the real issue that was digging a hole in my stomach.


You do not kill for sport.”

I raised an eyebrow in her direction.

“You don’t, so don’t try to convince me otherwise.” Her no-bullshit tone made me smile. “So what exactly are you worried about?” she asked.

I studied the patterns in the silk and then focused on the tiger in the snow, almost laughing at the hawk. Both animals carried the same amusement in their features, the same happiness
—everything struck at once. We would never be those carefree creatures I painted.

Ever.

“Damian?”

“I’m worried I’m going to lose you.” There, I said it out loud and it hung o
ver the room like a dark cloud.

Her silence just layered on the unease and when I turned to gauge her reaction, she was standing next to me, studying me just as acutely as I had been studying the portrait.

“Why?” she asked. It held no forcefulness, yet the strength of her soft inquisition made it impossible not to answer.

I laughed. “Because you’re as passionate as I am and without that piece of the puzzle, you may
come to realize I’m not what you want.”

“Granted
, our physical relationship has been as intense as everything else between us, but it isn’t the only reason I want to be with you. Besides, we can get creative and find a way to make that work. It might mean latex and clothing, but it isn’t the end of the world.”

“So if we never kissed again…”

She pressed her lips together in a thin line of contemplation. “I’d be heartbroken, but it’s because of what that does to me. What you do to me on every level. I’d find another way for you to create that same weak-kneed response.”

“And
if you can’t, that’s when you’ll start looking elsewhere,” I replied.

“No,”
she said.

I wasn’t convinced.
I knew I’d never touch another soul, but she was human and not bound to me the way I was to her. The heat between us wasn’t something either of us could deny and, god help me, it might be just be the thing that finally kills me. The insanity of it all burned and I turned away from her, letting the bite of anger come back full force.

“This time, I’m taking Lucifer down
,” I said and retreated to my computer, checking my various email accounts. I pulled up my oldest one and froze, staring at the most recent subject line.

Oh
, how the mighty have fallen…

But it wasn’t the subject that turned my blood to liquid fury, it was the sender. Lucifer
had the gall to bait me. My hands curled, my nails slicing through the flesh of my palm at the obvious mock.

“Mother fucker,” I whispered and kept my hands clenched so the flurry of responses couldn’t find their way onto the screen. I flexed and squeezed in slow increments until the insane urge to answer him with an equally infuriated response died.

When I was sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid, I opened the email and pushed the chair back, just in case my hands decided to act of their own accord.

I gather from the mess you made, that Lilith hit her mark. I’m looking forward to chatting with the two of you again. I have a feeling next time will
have quite a different...and more satisfying outcome.

Until we meet again.

Lucifer

I s
hut the computer down and pressed my palms to my eyes. The urge to smash everything within reach settled in my skin and I let out a roar, planting my feet on the floor so I didn’t kick the table clear across the space.

When I pulled my hands away, Naomi stood waiting for an explanation.

I slammed my fist down onto the desk. The crack of wood splintered the stale air and I snarled, “Lucifer just fucked with the wrong person!”

Chapter
Seven - Naomi

 

Damian growled and paced, curses in both English and Greek spilled from his lips, crowding the already charged air. If Lucifer showed up at our door at this moment, he wouldn’t make it two paces before Damian tore into him.

“Do you think Michael can help?”

Damian gaze stopped on mine. “With what?”

“Do you think he can make it so you’re not allergic to me?”

His bitter laugh filled the room. “I already tried that avenue. Michael can’t help.”

“You called Michael?”

“I thought you were dying, so yes, I called Michael.”

I bit my lip and nodded, understanding how frightened he had to be to call on Michael. He still believed
the archangel tolerated him because he was the protector of the bloodline. He had no clue what Michael really thought of him and I sighed, setting that secret aside. Instead, I decided to occupy his mind with conversation so he wouldn’t go into another tirade and destroy the place.

“Lilith created the shadow virus?”

Damian stopped pacing and turned to me, nodding.

“How?”

“Bacteria, herbs, blood and a demon curse,” he said. “At least that’s what the lore says. She did practice the dark arts and she was in search of immortality.” He shrugged and crossed his arms before sliding onto the couch. “She certainly found the right cocktail but it was her relentless pursuit that got Lucifer kicked out of heaven. For years, she tested her concoctions on unsuspecting victims and I guess the heavenly host got pissed.”

“Lilith
and Lucifer?” I asked, my mind still locked on that tidbit.


Yep. And she’s the reason Lucifer and Michael hate each other.”

He had my curiosity on hyper-drive and I slid into the chair across from him. “Love triangle?” I asked.

“No. More like a case of jealousy. Lucifer had taken an interest in Lilith around the same time Michael started courting Athena’s mother.” He shifted, stretching his legs out on the couch and leaned back with his head on the arm rest. “Lucifer never fully understood why he got hurled from heaven and Michael didn’t. What started as bitterness turned into all out hatred. Lilith was obsessed with finding immortality and his brother was busy popping out kids with a mere mortal. Lilith and Lucifer had a sort of falling out around the time Athena was born, so not only was he locked out of heaven, the woman for whom he had been exiled decided she didn’t want to be subservient to the likes of Lucifer.” He glanced over at me and sent a twist of a smile. “Michael had everything and Lucifer had nothing but a pit full of blood thirsty fiends from all of Lilith’s experiments.”

He stopped talking
, staring at the ceiling with a far away expression and what he said next sent a chill all the way to my bones. “Eve was Athena’s mother.”

Silence settled over the room and I waited with my heart in my throat.

“Lilith had just created a new batch of elixir when Lucifer decided he had had enough. By this time, he was bitter and alone and the jealousy of his brother and of Lilith carving a life for herself just exploded. In his rage, he grabbed both Eve and Lilith and forced them to be the guinea pigs. This batch had a little extra something.” Damian’s chuckle made the temperature in the room plunge and I shivered. “Not only did it contain Lilith’s brew, it also had a dose of demon blood and a curse straight from Lucifer’s lips.” He glanced my way. “But that wasn’t the end of his tirade. He wasn’t done doling out justice and what he did next, broke whatever alliance he had with Lilith, turning her into a bitter adversary.”

His gaze moved back to the ceiling and his jaw tightened at his thoughts and instead of prying, I waited, knowing he would eventually spill the information.
Finally, when I couldn’t stand it anymore, I asked, “What did he do?”


Lucifer took Michael’s firstborn. Watching him devour that little boy drove Lilith right into Eve’s arms.”

I was not prepared for the answer and my arms broke out in a hot rash of goose flesh. I swallowed the disgust
blooming in my stomach along with the endless questions but the main question that swirled came blurting out anyway. “Lucifer killed his nephew?”

Damian sent a nod in my direction. “Sick bastard,” he muttered and shifted. “Anyway, Michael
fled with Athena bringing her to Greece, to my neck of the woods. He found an honorable family to watch over her and you pretty much know the rest.”

“How did you meet her?”

Damian sighed. “Her husband was my best friend until he was killed in battle with Carthage.” He met my gaze. “Before he took his last breath, I promised him I’d look after Athena and Zoe. It didn’t hurt that I was smitten with her already and had been since we met, but Icarus laid claim to her first.” He shrugged.

“So when did you meet Michael?”

“When I got back from the war. And let me tell you, that was an interesting meeting,” he started and shifted on the couch, rolling so he faced me.

“I’ll bet.”

“I nearly shit my pants,” he admitted, his cheeks turning the rose color of embarrassment.

I grinned, imagining his reaction. “Did you cower?” I prodded, my tone teasing enough to draw a smile.

“No. I didn’t.” The spark of humor glinted in his eyes. “I held my ground and promised to watch after his daughter and granddaughter. I didn’t realize what I was promising, or the consequences of failure but I was sincere. I would have gladly laid down my life to protect them if it came to that and he knew it, so I received his blessing.” He shrugged his shoulder and rolled on his back again. “A lot of good that did.” His expression transitioned from those fond memories to the dark day Lucifer tore Athena to bits.

“You protected his granddaughter,” I said,
“Besides, you can’t blame yourself for her death.”

He turned toward me. “I couldn’t stop it, therefore I failed.”

It was a simple statement that had ruled his life for centuries and while I wanted to argue with him, I let it go. I stood and crossed the distance, dropping to my knees by the side of the couch. His haunted gaze tore at my heart and all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around him and erase all that pain.

He reached for me, his
hand halting just before he touched my cheek. His fingers slowly curled into a fist and he let his arm drop across his chest. Breaking my gaze, he turned his frustrated stare to the ceiling and his features hardened.

I dropped my forehead into the curve of his elbow, resting it on the soft fabric of the chambray work shirt he wore.
The muscles in his arm flexed and the unmistakable sound of teeth grinding filled the room just before his fingers laced into my hair. The tender stroke of his thumb caught me off guard and I yanked away, knowing his fingers would bear blisters.

I stared into the depths of his blue eyes wondering why the hell h
e would put himself through that kind of pain just to comfort me. He reached for me again and I grabbed his arm through the shirt, stopping him with a shake of the head.

“Don’t,” I whisper
ed. “Intentionally hurting yourself doesn’t help.”

His inhale filled the space between us and an instant later, he stood on the other side of the room, his movement complete within a blink.

“Then I need space,” he said, his voice choked in his throat and I kept his gaze offering a nod. I understood, because being near him was like a time bomb, the closer we were, the less likely we would be able to resist the building tension between us and I didn’t know what kissing him would do. If my skin produced blisters, what in god’s name would my saliva do?

Instead of going to him, I slipped back into the
chair, my mind going over everything he just told me. I turned my gaze to him, thinking about Lilith and the vampires we ran into at Valerie’s house five years before. They looked very different from Damian, especially Lilith. They were essentially around the same age, give or take a few decades but she was pale as the snow, beautiful, but still pale. Damian on the other hand hadn’t lost the natural skin tones. It was almost as if...

My eyes widened.

“You’re not from the same batch as Lilith, are you?”

His head shook slowly. “I’m a result of the multitude of her failed experiments, and I’m not sure why I survived without becoming
a mindless killing machine like those poor bastards in the pit.”

“Are you the only one that ever survived?”

He nodded. “I don’t think any of the others thought to bite back. I’m just amazed they didn’t destroy themselves long before I was thrown in, but maybe Lucifer kept them fed so they didn’t turn on one another.”

“What about Lilith and Eve? W
eren’t they just as menacing to society?”


No. They seemed to have some level of control, sort of like I did once Michael freed me. But they were cunning and sly and always together. I scared the shit out of them at first,” he said and shot me a grin that faded after a moment. “We crossed paths a couple of times and all three of us had the same goal to destroy Lucifer. Lilith was curious as to how I survived and wanted to run some experiments, but I wasn’t about to let her cage me so she could figure out what made me tick. And neither was Eve when she found out I was the protector of her bloodline.” He stopped speaking, chewing on his lower lip in contemplation and then his head turned toward the doorway.

“Eve isn’t dead,” he said,
swinging his gaze in my direction.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because Lilith would have torn into Lucifer and never done his bidding without something on the line and the only thing she cares about is Eve.” He collapsed onto the cushions of the couch, running both his hands into his hair. “Which means I’ll be on Eve’s hit list regardless of my role as protector of her bloodline.”

“So Lucifer still has another dose of the cure?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Something about the story didn’t settle right with me and then the disconnect shot into my mind and out my mouth. “What about Michael and Eve?”

Silence fell between us and Damian kept my gaze. “Michael found Eve and Lilith drinking what remained of his son’s blood.”

Just the thought gave me a start and I could see the disgust written in the tight line
s around Damian’s clamped lips.

“That was the end of it. He never forgave her but he couldn’t bring himself to kill her either.”

“I’d have to side with Michael on this one,” I said, my stomach rolling at the thought of draining the blood from my lifeless child. “But I wouldn’t have been so kind. She’d be just as dead as her child.”

Damian kept my stare. “Think of it this way, if you found me in that situation, devastated from watching Lucifer kill our child and starving enough to succumb to the scent of blood filling the room, would you kill me?”

“Yes,” I said with no hesitation and his eyebrows rose.

“I’m not sure I’d be able to if the tables were turned,” he said.

Irritation snaked over my skin and he caught it easily enough.

He put his hand out stopping
my ramp up to a rant. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d be livid, but I just don’t have it in me to kill you. There’s nothing that would make me want to kill you.”

Struck
by the sincerity in his eyes, the bite of aggravation nipping at my skin softened. “That’s very sweet, but at one time, that wasn’t the case.”

A combination of irritation and guilt flash
ed in his eyes and he turned away. “I wasn’t in my right mind,” he muttered and stalked out of the room.

Watching his backside as he head
ed toward the bedroom wiped the smile off my face. He has such a fine ass and my hands clenched in response to the pain that accompanied the thought of never touching him again.

A quick glance at the clock t
old me we had just a couple of hours left and I followed him into the bedroom. He shoved clothing into a duffle bag like the garments had offended him in some manner.

“Are you trying to murder your clothes?”

He looked up at me and there was a clear warning in his gaze before he continued packing.

I couldn’t help the smirk that captured my lips and his muttering growl told me he saw it too. “Come on, where’s your sense of humor,” I said and opened one of my bureau drawers.

“I don’t want to go to New York,” he said.

I paused with a shirt half folded in my hands and met his gaze. “You don’t have an option.”

His bitter laughter rang out and he zipped his bag. “I’m the only one with options at the moment.”

My hands clenched the shirt and I slammed it into the open bag with the same ferocity he had because he was right. Even wrapped up in the get up he brought in last night wasn’t enough for me to get to civilization on my own. He was the only one
who could get me out of here.

“No
w look who’s murdering their clothing.”

I met his gaze and bit back the expletive that broadcast in my mind
. Instead of dwelling on my anger, I sighed. “What about your place in Litchfield?”

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