by Larissa Ione
Zhubaal’s expression was cold when he turned to her, and her stomach lurched. She’d hurt him deeply enough for him to shut down, and she wondered if Laura had ever done the same thing. Somehow, she doubted it.
“Well?” he asked, his voice as chilly as his gaze. “Would you rather work for Azagoth or take your chances with the demon inside you and Revenant’s forces?”
Obviously, she had to choose Azagoth. She just didn’t like it, and she wanted to at least feel as if she had some control in the matter.
She started toward Tux, relieved when she heard Zhubaal’s heavy footsteps behind her.
The chamber they entered was nothing like Vex would have expected. This guy was some sort of super wizard or something, so she figured his lair would look like a movie cliché...the way most sorcerers’ lairs really looked.
But Rowan had money and taste, and the room they entered could have been a museum of demonic art and artifacts. Haunting paintings by noted demon and even angelic artists lined the walls, and the shelves were practically sagging under the weight of stone statuettes, clay masks from various demon tribes, and carvings made from bones. Even the floor rugs had been woven in various styles and from various materials depending on the maker’s species and culture.
If the chamber wasn’t what Vex expected, Rowan was exactly what she’d expect from a fallen angel. Tall, dark, and handsome. Sure, his hair was platinum blond and his eyes were pale blue, but damn, the darkness emanating from him was intoxicating. It definitely made SuperEvil stir, sending a warm buzz to the tip of every nerve ending.
When she looked over at Z, she could tell he felt Rowan’s power as well. His eyes gleamed with bloodlust and his hand had fallen to the sword at his side, as if he was ready to do battle.
She shivered in forbidden delight. A battle between two fallen angels would be something to see.
“You’re turned on.” Zhubaal’s voice, low and so close to her ear she nearly jumped, went through her like a purr.
“Does that disgust you?”
“No.” For some reason, he sounded mad, like he wanted to be disgusted but wasn’t.
“Hello.” Rowan, dressed in a black sweater and khakis, moved toward them so smoothly he glided. “I have been waiting for you.”
“For what, ten minutes?” Z asked.
Rowan blinked before giving Zhubaal a wary once-over. “Yes.” He smiled, flashing fangs. “Azagoth sent word that you are in need of this.” He held up a vial of black liquid.
“And that is?” she asked.
“It will force the soul inside you to the surface, where Azagoth will be able to exorcise it without killing you.”
Zhubaal paced around the room, hand still on the hilt of his sword as he studied the decor. “Why is this potion necessary?”
Rowan’s smile made SuperEvil vibrate with desire, and Vex clenched her teeth, concentrating on keeping the demon down. “Because Vex has the soul of an angel but the body of a lesser being. That allows some of the oldest, most evil demons to access an incredibly powerful soul and cement themselves to those who are mistakenly called, “living.”
“Mistakenly?” She snorted. “I’m quite alive, thank you.”
He laughed. “Ours are borrowed bodies, subject to decay and death. Souls are our true forms, solid in Heaven and in Sheoul-gra. But the Dark Lord will one day rule the demon and human realms, where all souls will be solid, eternal, and subject to great suffering.”
SuperEvil felt such pleasure at his words that Vex nearly gasped at the flood of orgasmic sensation at her core. Somehow she managed to offer a sarcastic smile. “Gee, yes, that sounds great. Now, how does the potion work?”
“You will drink it, but only in Azagoth’s presence.” He handed it to her, and she was surprised that it was hot enough to be uncomfortable in her hand. “The demon inside you will react according to the species it identifies with, and you will have no way to control it. Azagoth will be your only hope of stopping it.”
Zhubaal cursed under his breath. “The demon is a succubus.”
Rowan laughed. “Then Azagoth can have some fun while he’s...taking her.”
A growl erupted, a sound Vex could only describe as something being dragged against its will from the pits of hell, and suddenly Zhubaal was in the other fallen angel’s face, the tip of his sword jammed into Rowan’s throat.
“You will not speak that way about her.” Black veins rose to the surface of Zhubaal’s skin as his anger brought out the fallen part of the angel in him.
SuperEvil began to vibrate violently under her skin as her excitement level rose. A hum blasted Vex’s eardrums, growing so loud she could no longer hear either Zhubaal or Rowan, who seemed to be in a fang-ridden snarl-fest.
It was so hot.
No! It wasn’t hot. It was dangerous and violent and...oh, God, heat flushed her body and flowed in electric currents to her breasts and pelvis. Desire overwhelmed her, and she ripped off her top before she knew what was happening.
Stop! But she couldn’t. The soul was taking over, wrestling control away from her while using the furious energy created by the two fallen angels to do it.
“Stop,” she gasped, but the males didn’t seem to hear. Zhubaal had Rowan up against the wall now, and there was blood on the floor and on Rowan’s face and all she wanted to do was tear off the rest of her clothes and put her naked body between them.
We’ll fuck them both. SuperEvil’s voice clanged in her ears. We’ll hurt them, make them like it, and when it’s done, one will kill the other.
Vex tried to scream, tried to warn Zhubaal. But she was drowning in a pool of oily malevolence, unable to surface, and all she could do was scream inside her head as SuperEvil held her under and set its sights on Zhubaal.
Chapter Eleven
The smell of blood and danger hung heavy in the air, electrifying it, giving Zhubaal a power punch of adrenaline that jacked him into battle mode. Rowan hissed through bloody fangs, a happy result of Zhubaal’s right hook.
Oh, this had only been a scuffle so far, two alpha males testing each other, but Zhubaal knew where he stood. Rowan was strong, a fallen angel with the kind of power that would make even very evil demons piss themselves.
But Z was stronger, and Rowan knew it.
“You care far too much for the female,” Rowan gritted out. “It will be your downfall.”
That was probably true, but it didn’t mean Z wanted to hear it. Especially not from some sleazeball who promised fools fame and fortune if they gave up their firstborns or their mothers or whatever it was Rowan asked for in return.
“And you care too much about running your mouth,” Zhubaal said. “That will be your downfall.” He pressed upward with his blade, puncturing the delicate skin just under the bastard’s chin. The fresh stream of blood made his cock hard and his balls throb...no, wait.
He frowned, confused by the powerful sexual need coursing through him. Rowan seemed as perplexed, and they both gasped when a sexual wave crashed into them in an almost physical blow that knocked the air from his lungs. What the––
Fuck.
He wheeled around, and his mouth dropped open. Vex was sauntering toward them, naked except for her thigh-high boots, her hands cupping her full breasts as her thumbs flicked across the nipples. Holy shit, it was the most erotic yet inappropriately timed thing he’d ever seen.
“Your blood,” she purred. “I want to bathe in it while I fuck you.”
His entire body jerked in shock. Oh…shit. The succubus had possessed Vex. He’d failed to protect her, and now she was paying for it.
Panic made his breath burn in his throat. “Vex, listen to me.”
“She can’t hear you.” Succubus Vex cocked her head. “But how sweet...I can feel her love for you. She’ll be pissed when she finds out your cock was inside me and that I gave you the best fuck of your life.” She slid her hand between her legs, and next to him Rowan made a sound of lusty approval.
Very calmly, and without eve
n looking, Z shoved his sword through the male’s belly. It wouldn’t kill him, but it should take the edge off his libido. And if that didn’t do it, castration would.
Rowan shouted in agony and stumbled backward, his feet slipping in his own blood. The doors burst open and his army of Ramreels and Silas demons poured inside, weapons ready.
Time to go. He darted toward Vex, but she spun away, grabbing a dagger from her pile of clothes in a fluid sweep.
“Vex!”
In a graceful surge, she danced between several of the demons, slashing and stabbing, somehow avoiding their blows. Three fell, holding their guts as they spilled out of their bellies.
Son of a bitch, she was good. She’d eviscerated two of those guys with the heels of her boots.
A Silas swung at Vex with a studded club while her back was turned. Z flashed in, catching the bastard by the wrist before the blow landed. With a quick twist, he snapped the demon’s arm and flung him into a gang of guards running toward them.
“Gotta go, Vex!” They had to escape this clusterfuck before one of the dying demons croaked and got sucked into her. He snatched the potion from off the floor where she’d dropped it before seizing her around the waist as he flashed them out of there.
At least, flashing out of there was the plan. It didn’t happen. Instead, momentum launched them into the wall.
“Shit!” He cursed as his shoulder wrenched hard in the collision. “The place is warded!” He should have known. Rowan would have to be an idiot to not ward his lair from unauthorized entrance and exit.
Vex wrenched around and punched him in the jaw. His head snapped back, but he held onto her as he bulldozed through the guards, sending them scattering with a blast of searing energy that shot out of him in a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree shockwave.
“Release me!” the Vex-thing screamed, clawing and biting as he half-dragged, half-carried her to the exit.
He ignored her, blasting two more demons with enough juice to blow them apart and throw bone shrapnel into the poor bastards who had been waiting to see Rowan. Vex hurled herself away from him, but in a stroke of luck, she slammed into the door, shoving it open and giving him a chance to catch her before the spirits of the demons he’d just killed got drawn into her.
Swinging her into his arms, he flashed out of there, but as he did, he caught a glimpse of Rowan out of the corner of his eye and felt the bite of a lightning strike against his hip. His yelp of pain disappeared behind them as they materialized on the landing pad inside Sheoul-gra, his status as a resident allowing him to bypass the ward that kept everyone else from flashing in or out.
Razr was there almost instantly, sprinting across the courtyard. He shouted at a nearby Memitim, who darted toward Azagoth’s palace.
“Don’t touch her.” Still struggling to hold onto her, Zhubaal snapped his wings around her, shielding her from all eyes but his.
Azagoth flashed in, his eyes swallowed entirely by inky blackness. “The potion,” he rumbled. “She needs to drink it.”
Z couldn’t do much with his arms wrapped around Vex, so he flipped the vial into the air with his fingers. Azagoth caught it, popped the stopper, and forced the contents into her mouth. He snapped her jaw shut and stepped back, somehow keeping her from opening her mouth to spit out the potion even from a distance.
“Swallow,” he growled, and Vex snarled and thrashed, but obeyed. Azagoth’s black marble eyes rolled up to meet Z’s gaze. “Hold her steady and put away your wings.”
Neither was easy to do, but he stashed his wings and held her tight, her body pressed against his. Still, she was freakishly strong and squirmy, and there was no way he could do this by himself.
But there was also no way he was allowing Razr––or anyone––to touch her. She rocked her head back, smashing her skull into his nose. Pain shattered his face, and she did it again, layering the agony with another skillful blow. And another.
Son of a...fuck! A stab of red-hot fire went through his foot and up his leg. She stabbed me in the foot with the heel of her fucking boot. The thought barely had time to form before her other boot came at him. He kicked his leg back and she stomped the ground hard, missing his boot by a hair.
“Azagoth,” he hissed. “Hurry!”
“Hold her still,” Azagoth roared.
On impulse, he bared his fangs and bit into her throat. He’d used his fallen angel fangs in battle before, and he supposed this counted as a fight. But this was different. Always before, the taste of his enemy’s blood enraged him, fueling the violence and his strength. But Vex’s blood energized him. Aroused him. He knew that, for many fallen angels, feeding wasn’t a necessity, but its application for pleasure was well known. By everyone but Zhubaal.
Until now.
As Vex’s silky blood flowed over his tongue, he felt her relax. It was subtle, a mere drop of one shoulder and the tiniest shift of her head to allow him more access, but it was enough to give Azagoth the break he needed.
His fist punched through her chest. She screamed, and if Z’s mouth hadn’t been locked on her throat, he’d have screamed, too. Now he knew why Azagoth had wanted him to wait in the hall last time. Seeing her agony, feeling her agony, tore him to shreds. Laura had been killed this way. Vex had suffered through it in Azagoth’s office and now, again, while Z was letting it happen.
Seething hatred for the one hurting her rose up, and although it made no sense, he wanted to kill Azagoth for this. His wings shot out from his back as if they had minds of their own and his fangs pulsed as desire to kill the thing causing Vex’s pain consumed him.
Azagoth roared, and all around them the air went still. The trees closest to them exploded as if they’d been struck by lightning, and the water in the courtyard fountain blasted upward.
Rearing back, Azagoth ripped a cloudy, shapeless mass from Vex’s chest. As if the realm was breathing a sigh of relief, everything returned to normal, and Azagoth flashed away with the succubus’s spirit.
Vex collapsed against him, and he scooped her into his arms. Very gently, he wrapped his wings around her, shielding her from the view of the Memitim and Unfallen who had gathered to watch the show.
He glanced over at Razr. “I’m taking her to my quarters. See that someone brings some food. Maybe some broth.”
Razr bowed and took off as Z headed toward the mansion. He could have flashed to his quarters, but he didn’t want to give up even a second of holding Vex like this.
Moaning, she wrapped one arm around his shoulder to help support herself.
“Is it over?” she whispered. “Did I shame myself?”
A chill sliced through Z. She’d asked the same question after her wings had been severed. She’d laid in his arms, bleeding and quaking, worried that, in her haze of pain and fear, she’d sobbed or pleaded for a deal or begged for mercy.
“No,” he said hoarsely, just as he had all those years ago. But this time he didn’t have to lie. “You didn’t.”
She smiled weakly up at him. “I’m naked.”
Laughing, he pulled his wings tighter around her as they mounted the steps. “I noticed.”
“Did you like it?” She rested her head against his neck, and the intimacy of it made his heart lurch.
“Except for the gaping hole in your chest.”
“What?” She struggled to look down at herself but he caught her chin with his thumb and lifted her face to his.
“I’m kidding.” Tenderly, because she was probably sore all over, he pressed a lingering kiss into her hair. He loved how her spiky locks tickled his lips. “Well, you did have a gaping hole, but it’s healed.”
“Good.” She yawned. “Make love to me.”
He missed a step, stumbled, and flashed them to his quarters before they did a face plant. Standing in the middle of his palatial living room, he stared down at her. “What?”
“We’ve waited a long time, don’t you think?”
Holy shit, was she serious? His dick believed her, and if he di
dn’t put her down in the next couple of seconds, she’d know it. “A hundred and forty years.” And two months, three weeks, and six days, counting from the year they were born, of course.
She gave him an impish grin. “I was thinking a couple of days.”
Folding away his wings, he laughed again. Before Vex came into his life, how long had it been since he’d laughed?
Over a hundred years, probably.
“Come on,” he said, holding her tighter as he strode down the hall to one of the five bedrooms. Azagoth wouldn’t earn any accolades for providing lavish living wages, but he was generous with the perks. “You need to rest and finish healing.”
She tried to hide another yawn behind her hand. “Do not.”
“Do.” He took her straight to the shower, where, fully clothed, he held her under the hot, cleansing spray. She didn’t seem to mind, merely settled her head against his chest as the blood and the day’s events flowed down the drain.
After drying her, he took her to his bed, leaving a trail of water from his soaked clothes behind. The king-sized four-poster took up only a small part of the master bedroom, most of which was a waste of space. The reading nook was cozy, he supposed, but he rarely had the time to use it. Until now, all of his free time had been spent looking for Laura. The hot tub, built seamlessly into the polished white marble floor and fed by hot springs from Sheoul, filled another nook, but again, it went mostly unused.
“Nice place.” She winced as she burrowed under the covers, reaffirming his conviction that she needed to finish healing. “Do you know what kinds of things we could do in that hot tub?” As he drew the comforter up to cover her shoulders, she winked. “I can snorkel.”
His cock twitched as his wet pants got really fucking tight. “Maybe later,” he croaked. “I’m going to change clothes and get you some ice water––”
Her fingers closed around his wrist. “Stay,” she said softly. “Please. Lay down with me.”
There was no reason for his reluctance, but he hesitated anyway. Only a couple of hours ago she’d wished she had never exchanged vows of loyalty with him, and now she wanted him to stay with her when she was exhausted, in pain, and vulnerable.
