“The veil was about to breach,” Archipellus said. “There was no time to debate the issue. Just as there is no time now.”
Jorandil stepped closer to her, examining her face. Then he shook his head. “I should have seen it. Her eyes have dulled, and dark shadows ring them.” He glanced at Archipellus. “You should have been forthright about your lover. We could have asked Feillor or Anduron to come with us. Perhaps they could be of some help to her.”
“Elven magic cannot restore one drained by my kind,” Archipellus said. “No magic can.”
“It wouldn’t have hurt to ask,” Andero said.
“He already said there isn’t time,” Melissa said. “I’ll be fine. Let’s go save Bethany now.”
“Let’s?” Andero flicked Archipellus a sideways grin. “You surely aren’t planning to bring your side squeeze along.”
Her nostrils flared. “His what?”
Archipellus cut off the rest of her reply. “She hitched a ride here unbidden. You can see for yourself that she is a most stubborn woman, even for a mortal.” His eyes flamed, and he gave her a tiny, wry grin. “Perhaps now you understand why I found it more expedient to give her the sex that she craved rather than attempt to inject reason while the realms fell into chaos.”
“The sex I craved? Do you really want to go there?”
“No. I wish to go help your sister.”
Her chin lifted. “Then let’s go—all of us. That’s final.” She glanced around. “I’ll trash this place while you’re gone if I have to.”
Andero’s mouth hung open in part shock, part grin. “Quite the firebrand you have on your hands, god of the high sabbat.”
Archipellus let out a mixture of a growl and a sigh. “You will not be able to keep up with three gods. You are already drained.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to help her. I would have thought that was plain enough to you by now.”
He turned to the portal on the far side. “You will be affected by the transport to the other dimension. Especially as you have recently undertaken a crossing.”
“With a veil pendant?” Jorandil asked, and he got a nod in return. “How long ago?”
“About an hour,” Archipellus said.
“And she is already weakened by our sabbat god’s supernatural cock,” Andero said. He met her glare calmly. “It is not worth the risk.”
“The risk is mine,” she said. “I’m taking it.” She marched up to the portal. “Let’s go.”
She was about to put a foot into the shimmering air when Archipellus grabbed her arm. “Not like that. Dun hai, but you are testing my patience.”
She stepped back and made a sweeping gesture. “By all means. Gods first.”
“Within your wings,” Jorandil said.
Archipellus nodded. “If she will stay still long enough for me to protect her.”
“And if you can transport her before your arousal complicates matters,” Andero said. “A lot.”
She glanced up at the incubus with wide eyes.
“I am not aroused,” he said. “I am fast becoming irritated.” He glanced at the men. “You are clear on our destination?”
“Jorus,” Andero said. “My favorite swamp hole.”
“I have seen the girl, so I will focus on her location there. Follow my wake through the portal quickly.” He stretched out his wings, which stuck out from the construction of his shirt, and held his arms out to her.
She went to him and let him encircle her, his strong muscles pulling her to his chest while the leathery wings concealed her there. Matching his steps without being able to see was awkward, but she followed his lead and let him guide her. As powerful as the last transport had been, stepping into a portal was far worse. Thick goop replaced air, and she sucked it into her lungs by accident. She cried out without being able to make a sound, struggling in panic against Archipellus’s arms. He held her tighter and pushed, and suddenly, they were out. She gasped loudly, coughing out the suffocating ooze while dragging in deep lungfuls of oxygen. She heaved, expecting to see something thick and gelatinous hit the ground. But whatever she’d breathed in, it was invisible.
Archipellus retracted his wings and knelt beside her. “Are you all right? I knew this was not a wise idea.”
“I’m fine,” she said, rasping and hoarse. “Just help me up, Archie.”
“That is not my name.”
Andero appeared, one leg first as though he were stepping through a shimmering doorway. Jorandil arrived moments later. “Is she harmed?” he asked, his brows knitting at the sight of her on all fours.
“I think I’ll live,” she replied said.
She pushed herself up, Archipellus taking hold of her hand to pull her the rest of the way. She took her first look around. Andero had called Jorus a swamp hole, and he wasn’t wrong. The air—while at least full of oxygen—was thick and damp, fetid and full of foreign smells that singed her nostrils. The air was gray, and trees nearby were a sickly yellow with mustard brown, sharp-looking leaves. Murky water pooled in small lakes, some of which had fog rising from them.
“Good god, what an awful place,” she said, wiping her dirty hands on her jeans. “You’re sure he brought her here?”
“If it was truly a nogrun that got her, they’ll be here,” Andero said.
“It was,” Archipellus said. “We need only to track them back to his treasure hoard.”
Jorandil, whose pale, silvery tone stood out even brighter against the dingy backdrop, scanned the area. “We should not be far, if you focused on the girl with care.”
Archipellus grunted. “As much as I could with her sister writhing in my arms.”
The men shot them both a questioning look.
“You try being human and breathing inside that portal thing,” she said. “I was suffocating to death.”
“Look there,” Archipellus said, pointing off in the distance. “What do you make of it, Andero?”
They all stared in the direction he indicated, but Melissa just saw more gray swamp.
“I see it,” Andero said. “Smoke from a mud hole. I am fair certain of it.”
“I don’t see anything,” Melissa said, squinting in the direction the men were gawking.
“You have mortal vision,” Jorandil said. “But trust us, it is there.”
“Could be our kidnapper,” Andero said, tossing his cloak over one shoulder. “Let’s check it out.”
They headed in a more or less straight line, diverting only for large boulders and thick-limbed yellow trees whose narrower trunks stooped over like ancient men in need of a cane. They came to a large expanse of murky water, and she thought they might go around it. Instead, Archipellus tapped the bottom of his boot against the surface.
“You’re not thinking of going for a swim, I hope,” Melissa asked.
“This is our way across,” he said, staring at the ripples that fanned out over the sludgy water.
Bubbles rose up, and she took a step back. “What is that?”
Gray rocks emerged in a somewhat crooked line, bobbing for a moment on the water. They were fairly flat on the top and close enough to use as stepping stones over the swamp.
“Count to five,” Andero said. “Then we cross.”
Jorandil, whose wings were more visible outlined against the dingy landscape, stuck one foot out, resting it on the stone. It dipped under his weight. His wings fluffed out a moment before he yanked his leg back.
Andero shot him a wry grin. “I said five. I know you can count that high.”
Archipellus was staring at the rock as it reemerged. Moments later, he put his full bulk on it. Melissa gasped, expecting him to sink right into the disgusting, foul water. But he moved with deft steps from stone to stone, and not one so much as gave a wiggle.
Jorandil followed with his arms out for balance, unlike his brother who simply charged full speed ahead. She was getting the feeling that was how the god of Samhain dealt with everything. Even though they both had wings and glowing e
yes, it was hard to believe that they were related. Jorandil with his fair complexion and mild manner seemed opposite from Archipellus, with his dark hair and annoyingly bossy attitude. She’d thought it was because he was a god, but now that she’d met the others, she realized it was just him.
When Jorandil was almost halfway across, Andero turned to her. “Shall I carry you, fair maiden?”
Her eyes flew wide. “I don’t think so. That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”
“You’re certain?”
“Positive.” She stepped up to the water’s edge and tugged down the hem of her shirt. She sucked in a breath and put a foot on the first stone, gradually shifting her weight on it until she stood there on both feet. To her dismay, a few seconds later, she began to sink.
“Crap!”
Andero was pulling her back even as she jumped. The stone sank down briefly before returning.
“Do not linger,” Andero said. “See how the others hasten across? Just like that.”
“I’m not sure I can go that fast.”
“I could hold your hand.”
“That seems even more likely to make me fall, if I can’t keep up.”
“Then we’re back to me carrying you.”
Archipellus was already across, staring back with his hands on his hips. Jorandil made it seconds later.
“Just let me do it. You go first, and I’ll follow your steps.”
Andero set off, his steps remarkably light considering his bulk. When he made it to the fourth stone, she took in a deep breath and stepped out, following Jorandil’s method of balancing with her arms. The stone held as she made it to the second, then the third. Her heart was pounding as she tried to keep her pace even, not rushing too fast to lose balance. She wasn’t as fast as Andero, and he pulled farther ahead, but she pressed on, committed to the course.
By the time she made it to the middle, her panic rose. The large, stinky expanse was all around her now, and if she made one misstep, there was nowhere to go but down into god knew what. She comforted herself with the thought that at least nothing alive would likely want to live in such a disgusting soup. Soon, Andero was almost on the other side, and she made it two-thirds of the way. Every step made her bolder, heartening her at seeing the far edge getting closer.
Large, churning bubbles was her only warning that something was about to go very wrong.
The monster broke the surface in front of her, nasty water spraying her as a long neck emerged. The creature was gray-brown, much like the swamp itself, with narrow arms and snake-like scales. The broad, flat head hissed when it opened its mouth, flashing long fangs.
She screamed, wobbling for a moment on the stone she didn’t dare stay on for long. She couldn’t go forward, so she spun and tried to go back. The thing lunged, picking her up with a giant claw. It rose farther up out of the water, and she didn’t want to look down to see how high they were. She was focused on green, reptilian eyes and curved fangs.
“Melissa!” Andero shouted.
He came back on the run, drawing his sword with a metallic scrape. He danced back and forth on the stones nearest the creature and slashed at it with his blade. The monster roared in fury when he managed to draw blood across its long body. Unfortunately, doing so made it let go of Melissa, who plummeted down toward the foul water.
A blur came out of nowhere and snatched her right out of the air. Archipellus clutched her to his body as she hung beneath him. His wings were huge and outstretched, arching gracefully as he flew. She clung to his neck and hooked her legs around his while he circled her waist. She could feel parts of his body stirring from their close contact, and ripples of that need tried unsuccessfully to break through her terror. He banked in a steep turn that brought them around to the far side of the bank, where he deposited her without fanfare and soared back toward the fight. He had dropped her from a couple of feet up, and she landed on her butt in thick moss.
The creature was still enraged at Andero, who was trying to retreat backward while the monster took swipes with its claws that nearly sent him off-balance. In mid-flight, Archipellus drew his sword and dove for the monster’s throat. A swipe from its claws sliced into his wing, and Melissa’s breath caught in her throat. With a yell and a slash from the gleaming blade of his sword, the monster stiffened, then dropped into the water with a terrific splash. The churning subsided and did not return.
Andero made it across and sat down near Melissa, wiping his brow and panting. “Well, that was bracing,” he said. He pulled a long rag from his shoulder sack and used it to clean off the blade of his sword. The creature’s blood was slimy and green. Her stomach turned.
Jorandil came over. “Is everyone all right?”
She nodded as Archipellus touched down, folding one wing against his back while he curved the other one in front of him to examine the injury. “Did you bring any salve, Andero?”
The man dug into his pouch again and withdrew a vial and a small cloth. Archipellus still had the sword in his hand, and it gleamed like brand new.
“How did you already have time to clean your sword?” she asked. “Andero’s is smeared in slime.”
He buffed harder with the rag and then switched to rubbing the blade in the moss. “And it may never recover. This stuff is viscous as hell.”
Archipellus held up the glittering blade. “This is no ordinary weapon. It drinks the blood of its victims.”
She made a face. “Ew.”
“It belonged to Apollyon, god of death,” Jorandil said, eying the sword soberly. “It is a holy artifact of Samhain and does not usually go out on quests.”
Archipellus poured salve onto the cloth and dabbed it on the three bloody stripes that had been raked across his wing. Melissa got to her feet, brushing off her backside as she wandered over to check out the wound. “Does it hurt?” she asked.
“I will live.”
She eyed him for a moment. “First, let me say thanks for saving my life.”
“I second that,” Andero added.
She crossed her arms. “But then let me segue into asking why you didn’t just fly us across in the first place?”
Archipellus stifled a grimace as the antiseptic bubbled in the bleeding marks. “My wings are rarely used in that manner. I was not certain I could manage.” He glanced at her. “And us soaring through the skies might attract more attention than I hoped.”
“Whatever you say, Archie. But next swamp, I’m booking a coach flight across.”
He glowered at her while he handed the supplies back to Andero. “Stop calling me that.”
“What do you want me to call you, then?”
“Eternal Lord and Master?” Andero said, his grin sobering at Archipellus’s glare.
“It’s just that Archipellus is kind of long and hard to say,” she said.
“Your name is Melissa,” Archipellus replied. “Should I call you Mel?”
“No. I don’t like that.”
He gave a nod of triumph.
“But I wouldn’t be opposed to Lissa,” she went on. “Bethany called me that when she was too tiny to say the whole thing.” She turned to Jorandil. “You’re his brother. What did you call him when you guys were younger?”
“Eternal Lord and Master?” Andero offered, and Melissa suppressed a laugh.
“Hardly,” Jorandil said. “Seeing as how he was youngest.”
“Andero,” Archipellus said, his eyes narrowing.
“Just trying to help.” Andero checked out a small scratch on his palm. “You could use some lightening up.”
“We are here to save someone,” Archipellus said. “That does not strike me as the time to be light-hearted.” He nodded ahead. “Let us go. Rescuing Melissa has wasted too much time already.”
He stalked off, and she planted her fists on her hips. “Oh, really? Saving me was a waste of your time?”
He didn’t answer, so she raced to catch up with him. “I mean, if it was such a problem for your schedule, why bother r
escuing me at all?”
“I did not mean for you to take it that way.”
“How did you mean for me to take the comment that my rescue was a time-waster?”
Archipellus huffed out a sigh and stopped short. “Every moment that we delay is another moment your sister sits alone and afraid that she will be harmed and that no one will ever save her. Is that what you want?”
She drew back. “You’re absolutely right.” She marched ahead. “Let’s go.”
The group moved in silence for a short stretch, Archipellus beside her and the other two behind. The ground was uneven, rocky in parts and abnormally soft in others. She kept her eyes on the terrain as she walked in hopes of not sinking into quicksand or twisting an ankle.
“Arch,” he said to her after a while.
She glanced up. “What?”
“My brothers called me Arch when we were younger. Much younger.”
“Arch. I think I like that. It’s easier and a lot less formal.” She smiled at the flash in his crimson eyes.
She studied his profile as much as she dared without him wondering why she was staring. Parts of him definitely came off as demon, like the horns and bat wings. The red eyes too, although they also played up his other side, the powerful, masculine presence that made her feel safe, even in a monster-infested swamp like this. There was a strength to him that had nothing to do with the rocked layers of muscle that ridged his body in all the right, heart-pounding places. It showed in the set along the angles of his jaw, his intense eyes, the purpose in his steps. Strong and sensual. Definitely sensual. His face was narrow and carved with precision, as if a sculptor had wanted to design the ideal male form to make women go weak in the knees.
Despite all that, he’d worn a mask when he’d come to find a woman. Interesting. And he’d been reluctant to take it off, as though he was because disfigured somehow. That had made her all the more determined to see what he was hiding when she let him have sex with her. When she’d taken the mask off, she’d almost fainted. It was stunning, how unbelievably seductive he was. He was fall-and-worship-me gorgeous. While her proposition had been for the noble purpose of sparing her sister, she couldn’t pretend that she hadn’t been quite taken in once she’d seen the whole package. Arch exuded all the virility and attraction of a sex god, no doubt about it. Too bad he was such a tight ass. And yes, he was an incubus. She’d heard the term before, but hadn’t known much about the specifics of what they did. Now she knew his passion would drain a woman to the very edge of her life—and beyond, if she wasn’t strong enough to withstand his potent effect.
Archipellus: God of Samhain (A Sons of Herne romance) Page 4
