“Is there, Melissa?” Jorandil asked. “Trouble, I mean.”
“I have a plan for getting us inside the nogrun dwelling,” Archipellus said before she could reply.
“We’re listening,” Andero said, leaning against the rock.
“I can use my powers,” he said, his gaze still locked on Melissa. “We have seen that they can be useful beyond the usual manner.”
“No,” Jorandil said. “That is the last method we should resort to.”
“Why? It seems most expedient.”
“It seems most convenient to quell your urges,” Andero said. “You have not been the same since you underwent the ritual of Samhain. You are not controlling the cravings.”
“This is not about my cravings.”
“Isn’t it?” Andero pushed away from the stone. “Look at you. Fists clenched at your side, sweat on your brow. Your cock twitching between your thighs, though a gentleman would not mention such things in mixed company.”
“I am trying to help get her sister back.”
“And there are fifteen other ways we could get inside his dwelling,” Jorandil said. “None of which involve you having to use your sexual prowess.”
“It would be expedient. That is all I am saying.”
“Any excuse to justify scratching that incubus itch,” Andero said. “Do you not see you aren’t behaving normally?”
He turned away. “Perhaps you are right. Performing the ritual with the wrong person has cost me more than I anticipated.”
Melissa bristled at that. “So it’s my fault that you’re acting like a total jerk?”
“What really went on between you two up here?” Andero asked.
“He wanted me to understand him better,” she replied. “He wanted me to know how he’s so all-powerfully sexy that he could take me right here and have me begging for him to drain me.”
“Do not take my words out of context,” he said, his nostrils flaring.
“And just what context should we infer?” Jorandil asked.
“I was attempting explain that I did not mean her sister harm. That I wanted to relieve her suffering.”
“Yeah, by threatening me with your hyperactive sex appeal,” she said, glaring at him.
“New rule,” Andero said. “You two should not be within ten feet of one another. There’s far too much....chemistry.”
“The sooner we recover her sister and leave this place, the quicker the two of them can remain parted,” Jorandil said. “So let us decide on a more prudent method of getting inside the dwelling.”
“If we flush the nogrun out, getting inside won’t be a problem,” Andero said.
“Their bodies are more adapted to fighting than they appear,” Archipellus said. “Their limbs have a long reach, and their touch can be poison.”
Melissa gasped. “You didn’t tell me that. You said Bethany would be safe.”
“He would not deliberately harm her if he could avoid it,” Andero said. “A nogrun’s treasure is most valuable in mint condition.”
“It is better to avoid confrontation if possible,” Jorandil added. “If we can find a way to draw him out.”
Archipellus rubbed at his neck. “Many of the nogrun are paranoid about losing their prized possessions. They set traps in their own mud huts to prevent thieves from getting away with their goods.”
“Then I say we split up,” Andero said. “Two of us will be in charge of luring him out and keeping him busy while the other two sneak in and get Bethany.” He pointed between Archipellus and Melissa. “And you two will not be pairing up. In any sense of the term.”
“Luring him out will not be easy,” Archipellus said. “They do not like to leave their hoards.”
Melissa eyed Jorandil, and she broke out in a slow grin. He caught her gaze and returned it quizzically.
“I do not like the way you are staring at my brother,” Archipellus said. “He is taken, by the way.”
She glanced at him and arched a brow. “I’m staring for a very good reason. Jorandil is the key to my plan.”
“Your plan?” Andero shot her a grin. “By all means, enlighten us.”
“I know how to lure it out,” she said. “You say they like treasure? I’m betting the easiest way to get him to come out of his place is by dangling an even greater prize than the one he just got.” She flicked a glance at Jorandil. “How many nogrun have ever managed to bag themselves an angel?”
“You want me as bait,” Jorandil said. He turned to the men and nodded. “The idea has merit.”
Archipellus’s brow was ridged over his eyes while he regarded them. “So you two intend to partner up.”
She fought the sudden urge to stick her tongue out at him. “Team Bait,” she said. “You two think you can avoid the traps and get Bethany out?”
“I’m an expert in dodging traps,” Andero said. “I’ve avoided marriage all this time. Well, except for a few missteps.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not encouraging.”
“I’ve lived a long time. I’m entitled to a few lapses in judgment.” He turned to Archipellus. “And what of you, partner? Think you can avoid any missteps?”
“You should be the one to get Bethany out, Andero,” she said. “I don’t want Arch touching her.”
Archipellus shot her a scowl. “I am not going to harm your sister. “I healed her, remember?”
“I also remember you shoving me against a rock and telling me about some rather unflattering personality traits. So keep your sex appeal away from her.”
He gave her a slow smile that she regretted. “Jealousy does not become you.”
“Let us split up now,” Jorandil said before she could reply. “Before it grows any darker.” He paused. “Good luck.”
She watched Archipellus leave, a strange twisting feeling in her chest. Strange that she felt both safer and yet more at risk when he was around.
“Come,” Jorandil said. “Let us refine this plan of yours.”
***
Archipellus and Andero crouched behind a bush, staring at the crude, yet large dome-shaped structure ahead of them.
“It is assuredly a nogrun mud dwelling,” Andero murmured.
A faint breeze wafted toward them. “And I can confirm that Bethany is there,” Archipellus said.
“How?”
“I can smell her.”
Andero eyed him. “Are you an incubus or a blood hound?”
He glanced at the man. “An incubus can be much like a blood hound when he is scenting what he craves.”
“And are you? Craving?”
Archipellus shifted, hoping Andero didn’t notice the motion to adjust the faint pulse of a stirring erection. “I craved when I first appeared to Bethany. I know her scent now.” He lifted his head and nodded off to the south. “Just as I know Melissa has gone wide around that direction.”
The man regarded him. “It occurs to me that despite centuries of acquaintance, there is much I don’t know about you and your more colorful side.”
“And perhaps it is better left that way.” Archipellus frowned as he eyed the surroundings. “It might have helped if Melissa had shared the specifics of her plan before rushing off to be with my brother.”
Andero cocked his head. “That’s really getting to you, isn’t it? That she’s with Jorandil while you’re stuck with me. I’m trying not to take it personal.”
“I am not worried about her and Jorandil. He is happy with his human lover.”
“Yet you sound like a jealous fool, sniping off remarks about her not being with you.”
His chest tightened. “She is not mine to be jealous about. I have no plans to be with her.”
“You don’t wonder whether she was dangled in front of that blood hound nose of yours for a reason? You are the last of the sabbat gods to invoke a ritual during the year of the Thousand Seasons. The Fates have seen to it that all of the others fell in love with their sabbat partners—every single one. Melissa was your partner, an
d here she is, now, a human woman along on your quest to save her sister.”
“Do not remind me.”
“What was the real reason you brought her? To torture yourself? Complicate our mission?”
“We should be watching for our moment to enter the dwelling. I cannot concentrate with you babbling nonsense.”
“Do you want her?”
“Stop.” He pushed down a swell of anger as he regarded his friend. “Do not push me. I am in no fair mood for it.”
“There has been much speculation as to whether the god of Samhain would succumb to whatever love spell the Fates apparently wrought on the rest of your brothers.”
He tried to sigh, but the band of tension around his chest wouldn’t allow him to draw a deep enough breath. “I have not speculated at all. Make no mistake, I have no flowery delusions about falling for a woman. I know what I am.”
“A man who craves a woman’s touch.”
Archipellus shook his head. “I am a demon, a herald of death for mortal women, sucking away their life in order to fuel my own power. Even doing so to seal the veil, the consequences to my victims are the same. Even the Fates cannot cure me of this. So I have little doubt they considered me the one exception to their plan. As long as I am one of the incubi, I can never bind myself to a human woman.”
“Which doesn’t mean you can’t fall for one.”
“What do you want me to say? That I wish things were different? That I feel cravings around Melissa unlike any I have experienced since my awakening? It matters not. The more I want her, the greater my wish that I could give her more than a climax during the Samhain ritual, the more I know I want better for her than what I am.”
“If you say so.”
He pictured her standing tall, determined to help her sister. Brave and stubborn to a fault, yet beautiful and strong. “I am bad for her, Andero. I have seen the way you and my brother look at me—and few others can even bring themselves to meet my gaze. Do you honestly believe it would be wise for me to pursue her?”
Andero regarded him for a moment. “No. I don’t.”
“Then this interrogation of yours is counterproductive.”
And more than a little hurtful. He was there to right one wrong, not make another one. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t lust after her, for he felt a deep desire that he couldn’t hide even if he wanted to. His body betrayed him to any who glanced between his legs. His cock stirred frequently now, twitching with every thought of her, any touch, the memory of her body against his. He had forced down that lust when he’d pinned her against the rock, determined to convince her that he was not evil. Or had he been trying to convince himself? Did he somehow think that if she accepted his actions with her sister, if she viewed his motives as noble and honorable, that he would be worthy of her? Logically, he knew better.
“Look,” Andero said. “I think something may be happening.”
Archipellus saw the movement and focused on the pair coming out from cover—and arm in arm. “What in the name of all things is she doing?” he whispered, scowling.
“A distraction,” Andero said.
From their vantage point, they could see the entrance to the dwelling. The heavy, wooden door creaked open and stayed that way for a moment while Melissa aided a staggering Jorandil by walking with his arm hooked around her waist. An unpleasant flare of heat seared his gut at the sight of them so intimately connected, even if his brother was making a fair show of being wounded. Then again, the shredded fabric around his shoulder was soaked with recent blood. Perhaps it wasn’t a show after all.
The door opened wider, and Archipellus’s eyes narrowed at the sight of gray skin and long, spindly limbs. The creature cautiously glanced around and then stepped outside.
“It appears to be working,” Andero murmured. “Get ready.”
“Oh, please, kind sir,” Melissa’s melodic voice called out. “My angel friend needs help.”
The nogrun’s tongue, long and flat, snaked out as if scenting the air. “An angel?” The voice crackled, grating on Archipellus like tin foil scraping against teeth. “What is wrong with him?”
“We were attacked by a monster.”
He stepped closer.
“Come on,” Andero whispered. “Just a few more steps.”
“If he is an angel, where are his wings?”
“Haven’t you ever seen an angel before?” she asked. “In person, I mean.”
The elongated head bobbed. “Not in person. They do not come here.”
“If they did, you would know that their wings turn invisible when the angel is hurt. But they’re magnificent. Help him and you’ll get to see for yourself. He is quite valuable to his realm. Perhaps you would be granted a reward.”
“Valuable, you say?” The nogrun moved forward faster, far enough from the open door.
Andero nudged Archipellus, and with a nod, they slipped out from cover and headed for the door.
“Come in, then,” the creature said, turning around.
The intruders barely managed to bolt and press themselves to side of the house, around the corner.
“Oh, wait!” Melissa cried. “He can’t make it.”
Archipellus peered around the corner and saw that Jorandil had slumped to the ground, hopefully only feigning collapse.
“Smart move,” Andero murmured in his ear. They watched the nogrun struggle with Jorandil’s dead weight. “We better make this quick.”
With a nod, Archipellus darted around the corner and slipped inside the dwelling, his partner right on his heels. The interior was lit by a sickly yellow lamp and smelled of overripe cheese and swamp gas. The furnishings were densely packed and mismatched, treasures obviously scavenged from a variety of worlds.
“Love what he’s done with the place,” Andero said. “Gods, what is that stench?”
He reached for a golden knife sitting in a display holder. The length of the handle was studded with glittering jewels. “Hello, pretty. Would you like to replace my sword?”
“Don’t touch that,” Archipellus said. “An expensive trinket so close inside the door? They set traps, remember.”
Andero’s fingers curled, and he pulled away.
“This way,” Archipellus said. “I see a door.”
The door was down a hallway, and the pair studied the walls, ceiling, and floor before heading into it.
“That floorboard looks loose,” Andero said, pointing. “Trip it or avoid it?”
“Avoid. We do not know how loud the trap might be, if it is indeed there.”
They skirted around that board, noting the unusual wear on the edges of the hallway floor. They walked that path and came out unscathed.
They stopped at an arched wooden door fitted with a massive padlock. A wire ran from it up and over the top of the door.
“Bethany?” Andero said through the door. “Are you in there? We’ve come to save you.”
No response.
“I don’t think she’s in there,” Andero said.
“Or else she cannot answer.” He eyed the padlock. “We have to get this off without triggering the trap.”
“She might not even be there.”
“Her scent is stronger back here. I am certain she’s nearby.”
“How can you smell anything but bog?”
A bump and a small noise stopped them.
“What was that?” Andero asked.
They paused, and it came again.
“There,” Archipellus said, moving to another doorway. It was also locked, but only on the doorknob.
“She wouldn’t be there,” Andero said. “He would secure the door better.”
He moved in front of the doorway just as Archipellus noticed the small hole in the wall directly across. “Move!” Archipellus called out.
Andero dove away from the door just as a long, narrow sliver of metal shot across the hall, sinking into the door.
“Thanks,” Andero said, eying the hole. “Think there’s more than one of t
hose dart things loaded into that?”
“No way of knowing, but it’s doubtful.
“Let’s keep low, then. And give me your sword for a minute.”
“The nogrun will hear you hacking through the door.”
“But not me prying it open.”
Archipellus handed over the weapon. They stood to the side of the dart shooter, which did not fire again. Andero fitted the tip of the blade between the door and jamb. A few wiggles and twists of the handle later, it popped open.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Archipellus asked as he took back the sword.
“I spend a good deal more time in the mortal realm,” he replied. “Humans are quite fond of these transmitted fictional dramas involving criminals and law enforcement.”
A staircase was just inside the door, and they gazed down. “Do we trust this?” Andero asked.
“It does not look particularly sturdy.” Archipellus eyed the wooden rail and rotting steps. “As for traps, I would say the staircase itself is a hazard.”
“Hello?” Andero called out, his voice echoing in the damp space.
“Who’s there?” came a female voice.
“It is I, Archipellus.”
“Watch the stairs. They really suck.”
The men went down one at a time, again keeping to the outer edges of the boards. Archipellus reached the bottom first and stopped dead at the sight. Bethany was sitting on a battered mattress in the corner of what appeared to be a storage room for sundry old junk. But she was not the same Bethany he had last seen. While somewhat disheveled and with her hospital gown smeared with dirt, she appeared to be in full health. Her complexion and smile was as vital as she had been in the photo. Her hair had somehow even regrown, brushing her cheeks like a pixie.
She stood up, her eyes wide. “Archipellus! Thank god you found me. I hoped you would.”
Andero came up beside him. “We should hurry. I doubt we have much time.”
“I won’t get far,” she said. “I’m chained up.”
She shifted her leg, making the sound of metal scraping on wood. Archipellus saw the shackle around her ankle and started forward.
She threw up her hands. “Wait! Stop. Don’t try to cross that line.” She pointed at a vague marking a few few from her bed. “It’s booby trapped.”
Archipellus: God of Samhain (A Sons of Herne romance) Page 6
