“How?” Andero asked, eying it.
“I don’t know exactly. I just know you can’t step on or near it.”
“So how does your host get around it?” he asked.
“He hasn’t tried, thus far.”
They walked the length of the room, checking the walls and the ceiling above. “There’s a hatch up there,” Andero said. “Bet it’s on a spring.”
“With something unpleasant to drop down on us, no doubt,” Archipellus said.
“Hopefully nothing alive.”
“He would not want the trap to harm his prize.” Archipellus glanced at Bethany. “Get in the corner and pull the mattress up over you.”
“I thought you said the trap wouldn’t hurt me?”
“Just in case.”
He glanced around and grabbed a small sack that was tied at the ends. “Stand back,” he said, aiming.
The sack landed just inside the line Bethany indicated, and as predicted, the ceiling hatch opened. A thick rope net dropped down. Bethany peeked out from around the mattress she was crouched beneath.
“Is the coast clear?” she asked.
“Well that could have been more exciting,” Andero said, heading for her. “I’m almost disappointed.”
Archipellus noticed the odd, almost invisible seam in the wall almost too late. He leaped for Andero and pulled him back just as he set his foot on the net. With a whoosh of air, a thin, silvery blur shot up from the floor. The narrow string was pulled tight as it raced straight up, slicing through the net.
“Dragon wire,” Andero said, going pale. “Would have cut us clean in half, front from back.” He glanced at Archipellus. “Thanks for saving my ass, literally.”
“Let us get her out of here before we encounter any more little surprises,” Archipellus said.
Andero crossed the net and knelt at Bethany’s feet to study the shackle. “The sword tip is too big for this lock,” he said, glancing around. “I need something smaller.” He jumped up and began searching around the floor and poking his nose into containers. “Wait!” He disappeared back up the steps.
“How did you get past that creature who took me?” she asked. “Did you...kill him?”
“Your sister lured him outside,” Archipellus replied.
“Melissa’s here?” She shot him a hard glance. “Why did you let her come to this awful place?”
“I hardly invited her along. She can be quite stubborn when she wants something.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I can’t fault you for that.”
Andero returned with the dart from the hallway. He crouched beside her and jammed it into the lock, twisting and fiddling.
“And who’s your gallant locksmith friend, Archipellus?” she asked, glancing down at him.
“Andero,” he chimed in, gazing up with a grin. “Warrior, hero. Part-time comedian.”
“Hurry,” Archipellus said. “We won’t have long before the nogrun returns.”
“Is that what he’s called?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “What an ugly name. It suits him.”
“There!” Andero exclaimed. He wriggled off the cuff around her ankle. He straightened and gave a small bow. “I do believe we should take our leave, my lady.”
She curtsied. “Don’t mind if I do.” When she turned to Archipellus, however, her eyes went wide. “Look out!”
A slash at his back came too soon after the warning. Searing pain shot through him, and he let out an angry moan. He whirled around to find the nogrun, its wicked, curved talons extended, rearing back for another swipe.
“Intruders!” the nogrun said. “You will not take my prize.”
“Keep away from his claws!” Bethany shouted.
Andero lunged for Archipellus’s back and yanked the sword of Apollyon from its sheath. The nogrun grabbed Archipellus and wound its rubbery limbs around him, making it impossible for Andero to get a clean slice that wouldn’t harm the god of Samhain. Archipellus struggled, but the rubbery coils snaked around him tighter.
“One more for my collection,” the creature said with a laugh. “Gods, angels, and mortals. Quite valuable. Yes, quite.” His claws came near Archipellus’s throat. “Or perhaps I shall just kill him for attempting to steal from me.”
His eyes flashed, but with a wet, sickening thud, they opened in shock and then dulled. Its limbs unwound from Archipellus, who shoved them off him and turned just as the creature crumpled. Melissa stood behind it, the large, jewel-handled knife in her hand dripping with greenish blood.
“Apparently the fancy knife wasn’t a trap after all,” Andero said, staring.
“It was,” Melissa said. “A flame shot up from the base the minute I tried to pick it up. Jorandil pushed me out of the way just in time to avoid my hand getting singed off.”
She smiled up at Jorandil, who returned the favor as he stood beside her. A stab of annoyance mingled with the fiery stinging along Archipellus’s back.
“Thank you for stabbing the creature,” he said, drawing her attention back.
“My god, are you all right?” she asked.
He started to reply when he realized her gaze had shifted over his shoulder. She rushed past him to Bethany, and the sisters hugged.
“I’m fine now,” Bethany said. “Thank you so much for coming after me. All of you.”
“Did that bastard hurt you?” Melissa went on, fussing over the girl, and running a hand over her head. “You have hair!”
“I know. It started growing back within minutes after the ritual. Itched like crazy at first.” She raked her fingers through the short, pale strands. “Looks like the effects have worn off, though. It’s been this length for a couple hours.”
“We should go,” Jorandil said. “Unless you think it would be better to stop here for the night, start again at daybreak.”
Archipellus started to answer, but the room turned sideways. He staggered and knocked into a stack of boxes.
“Whoa, there,” Andero said, racing over to hold him up. “What is it?”
“I am fine,” he croaked.
He spun around and Bethany gasped. “The claws! They’re poisoned. I found that out the hard way.”
Archipellus was shaking his head, trying to clear his vision. Voices in the room muddied, buried under a rising swell of pain. He tried to stand and walk, but he kept pitching to the side. Andero hooked an arm around his neck to hold him steady.
“I have heard of this poison,” Andero said. “He will require more aid than we can give him here.”
“It would be risky to head back to the portal at night,” Jorandil said. “Especially with him injured.”
“Will he be all right?” Melissa asked.
Archipellus looked up at her, her tight, concerned expression seeming to split in two pieces that circled one another.
“Nice to know you care,” he said.
Then the god of Samhain lost consciousness.
***
Melissa paced back and forth at the foot of the bed in the only room that didn’t seem to be booby trapped in the nogrun’s dome house. Archipellus let out an eerie wail that stood the hair on her arms up, and she froze. He was laying on his stomach in bed, his hair damp with sweat. His torn, bloodied shirt had been cut from his body and torn into rags, which were then soaked in some kind of viscous oil and laid across the deep gashes on his back. His pants laid in the corner, and just a sheet had been tossed over his waist to offer modesty. He stiffened, every muscle tense, his mouth open. Then he went limp again.
She wandered up and laid a hand on his brow. He was burning with fever. They needed to get him back to his own realm, which would have better healing options according to Andero and Jorandil. But he was in no condition to be moved.
She wet a sponge in a basin and ran it over him, squeezing it over his muscles to cool his temperature.
“We have deactivated the remaining traps,” Jorandil said. He stood in the doorway, his own shirt off as well. His shoulder had been bandaged with it. “
You need not restrict yourself to this room any longer.”
“Thanks,” she said, dropping the sponge on the night table.
“You should try and get some rest.”
“I can’t,” Melissa said. “I feel like this is my fault. I was trying to save my sister, and because of everything I did, she wound up being brought here—and now, this.”
“You did save me.” Bethany wandered in and stood at the foot of the bed beside her. “If I’d have gone along with his original plan, I wouldn’t be around at all.” She reached out and took her sister’s hand. “You were right, as usual. Thank you for not giving me my way, also as usual.”
“I’m just sorry you wound up kidnapped.” Melissa glanced up and down at her sibling. “That’s an interesting look you’ve got going on.”
Bethany had on one of the men’s tunics—Andero’s brown one. Her hospital gown had been removed and tied around her waist into a makeshift skirt, with the open flap turned to one side.
She flushed slightly as she pulled the fabric of Andero’s tunic away from her middle. “The back of my hospital gown was a bit...airy. Andero loaned me this so I wasn’t showing the world my backside.”
“How chivalrous of him.”
“Yeah. He’s pretty nice.”
One side of Melissa’s mouth twisted up at the twinkle in her sister’s eye, one she hadn’t seen for a while. But it faded when Bethany turned to regard Archipellus. “This wasn’t your fault,” she said. “I was the one he was trying to save.”
“You weren’t trying to get kidnapped. And that monster poisoned you too.” Melissa shuddered. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this same suffering, and all alone. After all you’d already been through.”
“I didn’t,” Bethany said. “Not like this. I mean, yeah, the nogrun scratched me, but it wasn’t deep like on Archipellus.” She held up an arm and showed Melissa the red streak. “It was an accident when I was fighting to get away. Archipellus is way sicker than I was.” She eyed the scratch and shook her head. “It was weird, like I was aching and depressed. I had weird flashes of hallucinations and strange, sudden pains in different places on my body to go with them. I remembered the fight I started in fifth grade. I remembered our bickering, times I hurt you. I saw your pain over my illness. No...I felt it. But then it was over. So I’m sure Archipellus will be better before you know it.”
“I’m afraid it won’t be so easy,” Andero said, strolling up beside Bethany. He was holding what appeared to be a crude, lumpy loaf of bread. He tore off a chunk and offered it to Bethany, who took it. Being shirtless showed off his bare chest, which was tanned, hard, and wide. He was quite handsome. And he had helped rescue Bethany. No wonder little Sis’s cheeks went pink when he was around. Or even mentioned.
“What do you mean it won’t be so easy?” Melissa asked. “He will be all right, won’t he? I mean, my sister is human and she recovered fast enough. He’s an immortal. Can gods even get sick?”
“They can be poisoned, if it is the right compound. And the illness didn’t last long for Bethany because she is young and kind.”
“I’m not that young,” she said, nudging his arm.
He smiled down at her. “Younger than he is. And the greatest suffering you are likely to have caused is a few broken hearts.”
“What’s any of that got to do with it?” Melissa asked.
“The poison that sickens Archipellus causes rather...unique hallucinations,” Jorandil said, coming into the room. “It will cause him to suffer all the anguish he has ever inflicted on another.”
Bethany gasped. “Of course. It makes sense now, what I was feeling.”
“It has been used by some realms as punishment for violent criminals,” Andero added, eying Archipellus, who was groaning and whispering indecipherable words. “Quite an effective deterrent.” He glanced at Bethany. “So while you have lived a relatively short time in which you no doubt caused little strife, the god of Samhain is an incubus who has lived for many centuries. His anguish will be far greater.”
“And not only in the way you no doubt think,” Jorandil said, gazing down at his brother. “He is not only one who has claimed victims through sexual conquest. He has seen time in battle as well, fighting for our realm and the causes of our father.”
“Oh my god,” Melissa said, her stomach twisting into a knot. “But he won’t suffer it all in real time, will he? He won’t be like this forever.”
“It can’t be like real time,” Bethany said. “I was only out of it for a couple hours, maybe. Andero might think I’m some saint, but you and I both know I went through my bratty phase. You have the crooked little finger to prove it.” She clutched at her hand. “Which I now understand how bad it hurt when I broke it, by the way. I’m sorry.”
A couple hours. Hours’ worth of suffering for a girl who was barely nineteen and, despite her claims, was far more of a saint than a sex demon.
Melissa’s head grew light, and she turned to Jorandil. “And is there a cure back in your realm?”
“Not as such, at least none that I am aware of. But there are healing charms and salves to lessen the suffering. Somewhat.”
“What can cure him, then?”
“Time,” Andero said, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of bread. “In his case, sadly, a good deal of it.”
He offered Melissa a chunk of the loaf. Archipellus arched and cried out, however, and she shook her head. “I can’t eat.”
“You must,” he said. “Keep up your strength for the trip back across the swamp.”
“It is unfortunate that a veil pendant could not be used for the crossing,” Jorandil said. “I fear my brother is in no good condition for portal travel.”
“No pendant can reach Jorus,” Andero said. “It is too far from the veil.”
Bethany lifted her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn.
“The hour grows late,” Andero said. “We should all turn in for the night. Come daybreak I will fashion a carrying frame for us to bring Archipellus on. Then we will go.”
“Come on,” Bethany said to her sister. “There’s a spare room with a bed that looks just large enough for us both to squeeze on.”
“I’m going to stay with him for just a little longer,” Melissa said. She accepted the bread Andero persisted in holding out in front of her. “Thanks.”
He stretched. “I confess I will look forward to some sleep. I am about done in.”
“Alert us if his condition changes,” Jorandil said. “Andero and I have agreed to take turns checking on him through the night, so you need not linger overlong.”
She nodded her head while the others filed out.
“I am sorry, Melissa,” she heard after they were gone.
She whipped her head around. “Arch?” she moved closer, waiting. “Archipellus?”
“I should be a better man,” he mumbled.
She’d hoped he was coming around, but she could see otherwise. He was still beading up with fresh sweat, twisting in the bedcovers. He was muttering incoherently.
Her heart pounding, she closed the door so his thrashing wouldn’t disturb the others. He let out a shout, and she rushed over and stuffed a rolled up cloth in his mouth, letting him bite down. It muffled the scream. She stood there, helpless, while he turned over in bed, kicking off the sheets. Another agonized cry came, and to her shock, a bruise appeared on his cheek, then faded. Another, and then more appeared on his ribs and arms, mottling his body and then fading. He wasn’t just feeling the pain. He was actually suffering physical injuries.
Lacerations appeared next, cuts on his brow, shoulder, hip. Then a deep, red cut appeared, splitting open his side. He sat up, his eyes blazing, and let out a scream the cloth could barely muffle. Her hand went to her mouth, tears welling as blood spilled from the wound. Then he fell backward on the pillow again, eyes closed and silent. He’d passed out.
“This is wrong,” she said, watching in shock as the deep wound sealed itself. “You shouldn’t have
to suffer like this. You are a good man, Arch. You’re a hero.”
She sank onto the foot of the bed, feeling a swell of remorse. She’d thought the worst of him from the moment they met, assuming him to be an evil demon come to take his pleasure from a sick girl and then steal her life. And that he had threatened to more or less do the same to Melissa when he’d pressed her against the rock out in the swamp. But he hadn’t been threatening her. He’d been trying to warn her, explain his struggle to beat down his nature. He’d truly believed he was offering Bethany relief from the endless suffering he was experiencing now. A moment of sheer ecstasy to blot away the pain and let her pass happily. And he’d come through hell to rescue not only Bethany, but to protect Melissa from monsters because she’d insisted on coming along. The trip wouldn’t have been necessary if she hadn’t intervened in the ritual. True, Bethany would be dead now if she hadn’t. But she also wouldn’t have been stolen away to this place, alone and afraid, suffering whatever she’d inflicted on others during her life. Archipellus wouldn’t be suffering that same fate now. While she would have done the exact same thing if she were put in this position again, she couldn’t shake a certain sense of responsibility for what he was going through.
His cock hardened, and her face heated at the sight of it. She couldn’t help remembering how it felt to have him inside of her, thrusting, desperate, eager for them both to find release.
She shouldn’t be thinking such things while he laid there sick and poisoned. Maybe it was his incubus powers working on her. Or maybe it was that she’d never had sex like that before, nothing even close. And knowing now what was possible, she couldn’t imagine wanting sex with any other man again.
He stiffened, both his limbs and his erection, which went purple and shiny enough to look like it might burst. His body began to shrivel, wasting away, flesh sinking in against bone the way the bird creature in the swamp had withered in his arms. His skin went gray, his jaw slack. Jesus, he would have to suffer the death of everyone he’d ever used his incubus powers on.
Shaking, she covered his withered lower half with a sheet. Joints popped and his physique filled out again. She pulled out the cloth he’d been biting and wet it in a basin to let him take in some fluids. Another cloth she laid on his damp brow.
Archipellus: God of Samhain (A Sons of Herne romance) Page 7
