[Corine Solomon 5] Agave Kiss

by Ann Aguirre

  Farewell, my son.

  A shiver rolled through me. No wonder Min slept with you, Ebisu.

  Shan kept me upright, as I had no ability to balance. Booke was cleaning up the last of the shades. I still had no idea where the last Luren was. If it was smart, it would forget about Sheol and live out its human life here. Chance shook his head once, twice, as if to clear it. He moved his fingers, as if testing his own solidity.

  Chuch knelt beside Eva, and when he caught my eye, he circled his thumb and forefinger. “She’s okay, just knocked out.”

  Thank the gods.

  The moment I could, I pulled away from Shan, crawled across the filthy floor toward Kel. Surely, he was all right. He opened his eyes when I fell beside him. His fingers flexed; and I wrapped mine around his, slick with blood. He labored to breathe, his chest rent, his body charred. I sensed Chance coming toward me, but it wasn’t quite time for a joyful reunion. Not yet. Not until I knew the cost. Tears fell, dripping hot down my cheeks.

  “You’ll be fine,” I whispered. “You just need to sleep.”

  “No. The future lies before you, dadu, but I have outlived my purpose. I choose to die a free man. Everything ends.” Light flared in his tats, a final brightness before the dark. Kel closed his lovely, icy eyes and breathed, “Asherah.”

  Then he was gone.

  I knelt beside his body, his charred fingers in mine. When the last of the magick crumbled away, he was ash in my fingers. More tears slipped down my cheeks; a scream built in my chest, but my throat was too raw to bear it. So I held it in my head, echoing endlessly, while I rocked, a ball of white-hot pain. I hadn’t wanted happiness built on top of death, but Booke had warned there would be a cost.

  I just hadn’t expected Kel to pay it in my stead.

  Why didn’t you go when I told you? It appeared my dream had been prophetic in a sense; one life was lost in bringing Chance back, an even exchange to keep the universe in balance. The others stood away from me while I grieved; I heard them whispering, but . . . there was no one else to mourn him.

  “Not like this,” I whispered. “Not like this.”

  Future Perfect

  Eventually Chance pulled me to my feet . . . into his arms. I rocked on shaky legs, but he held me so tight. He shouldn’t be here. This shouldn’t be possible . . . and it only was because I’d fed the ritual enough raw power to open the gate. I never meant to, but Kel made the choice, dragging the ancient demon into the circle with him. By doing so, he’d saved the world from the war Barachiel planned to wage.

  And he brought love back to me.

  Oh, Kel. Thank you. And I’m sorry.

  Chance kissed me endlessly, his hands in my tangled hair. It was better than anything I’d ever known yet the kiss tasted of smoke and tears. Nothing beautiful came without pain, and our love had been fireproofed. Chance felt exactly as I remembered, his hands possessive and warm on my back.

  “Welcome home,” I whispered when we finally came up for air.

  “We need to get you to a doctor. Make sure the baby’s all right.”

  I swallowed hard. “You heard.”

  “Barely. I wondered if I had imagined it, but that kernel of possibility let me cling to you when the other realm started working on me.”

  “Cleansing you of ties?” I guessed.

  He nodded. “Sometimes this life felt like a dream, you know?”

  “So do you have all kinds of secrets to share?” I smiled through the pain, conscious of how high the price had been to bring him home.

  “No. They keep you . . . quarantined until you’ve made the transition.”

  “You were in solitary the whole time?” I stroked his cheek, unable to believe he thought I was worth this.

  “Apart from my dad, yeah.”

  “I hate to ruin the moment,” Booke cut in, “but the demon wants to parlay.”

  Chance kept his arm around me, helping me toward the others. My knees still felt weak and shaky, but at least I wasn’t bleeding anywhere. I tested my abdomen for pain, but there was none. Now only my throat and thigh hurt.

  The beautiful demon stood apart from my friends, wearing a terrified look. “Your crew took out Barachiel.”

  More accurately, a rogue ritual had—with Kel’s assistance—but I didn’t see any point in disillusioning him. We had dispatched all the shades he’d contracted, and that was plenty intimidating. I raised a brow, trying to look menacing, when I felt as scary as day-old tuna salad. “Still want to fight?”

  Gods, I hope not.

  “I propose a truce. I’ll tell Sibella that you slew our ancient enemy in her name. Unless she’s mad, she will reckon your debt paid.”

  “If I see you near my family,” Chance said coldly, “then I’ll take your head. No warnings, no questions.”

  “Understood.” The Luren hurried away, seeming desperate to escape.

  By this point, Eva had woken in a rage. “Find me something to shoot! There’s no way I end this fight on the ground like a punk.”

  Chuch kissed her on the lips. “I’m sorry, amor. It’s over. If you like, we’ll go down to La Rosa Negra tomorrow night, and you can punch some dudes.”

  “Sounds good,” she muttered, accepting Chuch’s hand.

  Before we could leave this place, I needed to do one more thing. I walked over to the ashes that had been my friend Kelethiel. Chance wound his arm around my shoulder, a quiet tension in him. I knew how he felt about my bond with Kel, the fact that I’d slept with him while we were apart. But he couldn’t doubt my commitment; it would’ve been much simpler to write him off, find a replacement. But I would never, ever do that.

  “We need to honor him somehow,” I said softly. My cheeks felt tight and hot, a residual effect from such fierce weeping.

  “I’ll fill one of my empty vials,” Booke offered. “Unless that would be too macabre . . .”

  I thought about it. “I’d like that. Maybe . . . I could have a statue built, include his ashes in the cement or something. Would that be weird?”

  “A little,” Shan said. “But cool. Better than burying a whole body in the dirt.”

  Booke did as he’d suggested. Then Chuch and Eva came over to wrap their arms around Chance and me, both emotional nearly to the point of tears. Shan and Booke joined the group hug, which lasted a while. All of us were exhausted past the point of bearing. Part of me felt like we should be more exultant, but it was all . . . too much. So much had happened that I couldn’t process everything.

  Eventually, Chance said, “While I appreciate what you’ve done tonight, more than words can say, I need to get Corine to a doctor. Then, if it’s all the same to you—and after she’s pronounced sound—I need some time alone with my girl.”

  Chuch grinned, slapping him on the back. “I missed you, mano. And I’d have been pissed if you got out of buying my little girl presents so easily.”

  “It’s good to finally meet you in person,” Booke said, offering his hand.

  “You too. Thanks for taking care of her while I was gone.” Chance made it sound like he had been on a business trip. They shook firmly, then he hugged Shan around the neck. “Looks like you turned into a badass.”

  Shannon hefted her sword. “This trims peen, you know. Hurt her and I’ll make you wish for demons. And welcome back.” She kissed his cheek.

  After Eva hugged him again, we turned toward the exit. The warehouse looked like hell, but it had been almost this bad before we invited Armageddon out to play. No collateral damage, so Twila wouldn’t come gunning for me. Chance matched his steps to mine, his arm tight about me. He’d hardly let go of me since Kel died. At the Pinto, Booke tossed me the keys, and Shannon handed me the bag. My dog popped out, safe and sound. He had had the brains to hide while the worst shit was going down. To my amusement, he lunged from the purse toward Chance, who caught him, accepting the Chihuahua kisses as his due.

  “I’ll give Booke and Shannon a ride,” Chuch said. “We can catch up tomorrow. I figure you�
��re all heading out soon?”

  Booke nodded. In the starlight, his gaze was already far away as he planned his world tour.

  Shan said, “No way. You’re stuck with me.”

  “We’ll go as soon as she’s ready,” Chance murmured.

  He guided me into the passenger seat, then ran around the car to drive. Anxious nausea rose in my throat. Please let the baby be all right. Please. If it turned out that I had chosen Chance over our child—I cut the terrified thought, but I felt sure he knew my worry as he pulled away from the warehouse. First, we stopped at a gas station so I could clean up a little. The way I looked, I was afraid I’d be admitted whether I needed it or not. Then Chance found a twenty-four-hour clinic.

  There were a hundred questions, but with his natural charm, he came up with a story that satisfied the doctor on duty at this hour. The lateness made it so we didn’t have to wait. They ran a few tests, listened to the baby’s heartbeat, which Chance heard for the first time. His expression melted, tiger’s eyes liquid with love and wonder. He pressed a palm to my belly, his gaze locked on my face. At his request, they also checked my thigh beneath the wrap.

  “You’re a lucky woman,” the doctor told me, warming up to a lecture. “No more hiking in dangerous areas. I understand how you daredevil types are, but you’ll have to put off the adrenaline rushes until after the baby’s born. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said meekly, amused at the cover story Chance had devised.

  “Take her home. See that she rests and drinks plenty of fluids. Her throat will heal in a few days.”

  He thought I’d strained it screaming for help after a fall. Of course, the doc also thought I was an idiot for hiking and climbing on a bum leg while pregnant. But I was sure there were people that stupid in the world. It was definitely more plausible than the truth. In short order, we were back in the Pinto and heading to a hotel.

  Any will do. The closest one.

  Maybe it was an incomprehensible, unforgivable reaction, maybe it was hormones or a need to affirm the fact that we were alive and together, but I wanted to get naked with Chance. He rushed through check-in, and then he carried me through the lobby. He had no luggage. I had a few things in a backpack and a dog in a purse; that didn’t deter us. The elevator moved like a snail up to the third floor. This wasn’t a posh place, but the relentlessly airport lodge décor in the room couldn’t distract me from my need to touch him.

  Evidently he felt the same way. As I was unbuttoning his shirt, he pulled mine over my head. With shaking, eager hands, we undressed each other. I led him toward the bathroom because after everything that had happened tonight, there would be no sex without a shower. Well, I needed one anyway . . . and I never turned down a chance to see him with water glistening on his tawny skin.

  With tender hands, he unwrapped the bandage on my palm, then the one on my thigh. “I hate how much it hurt you, bringing me back.”

  “Living without you would’ve hurt more,” I whispered.

  He went for me with a growl, his mouth ravenous. His body felt incredibly good against mine, hard and hot, throbbing with need. Chance lifted me into the warm spray, then stepped in behind me. I went for a washcloth but he plucked it from my fingers with a laden look.

  “Let me.”

  “I could be persuaded . . .”

  With deliberate care, he washed me all over, lingering on my breasts and between my legs. I moved against his fingers, maddened by the teasing, but he shook his head. “You need a bed, not shower sex.”

  “But I like shower sex.”

  He groaned. “I want to. But your leg.”

  Yeah, the muscles in my thigh probably weren’t up to that level of acrobatics, however hot it sounded. A flash of a memory heated me all over. He’d taken me in Sheol like an animal—on desks, against walls—even when it was Ninlil, it was still me. Maybe I should be jealous of her, but she was gone, and I was here. He’d come back for me. And I’d enjoyed the rough sex every bit as much as she did. Talk about weird, orgasms in stereo.

  He swept me into his arms, wrapped me in a towel. I submitted to the caretaking because I knew he needed to assert himself, put his stamp on me. As he dried me, I warned, “I won’t put up with this forever.”

  “Until the baby’s born?”

  “Maybe. It depends on how crazy and/or cranky I get. And right now, I want you so bad, I can’t stand it.”

  “God, me too.” He shook with it. “Ever since I came through, it’s all I can think about. You. Mine. Baby. I think my brain’s short-circuited.”

  “Too much testosterone. You weren’t used to it over there?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care.” Yeah, he was out of patience.

  Thank God.

  No foreplay. There would be years and years for slow, seductive sex. This, this was raw and primal when he came down on me, taking me in one powerful stroke. He cupped my hip, drawing my good leg around his. I left the other straight, as it hurt enough already. The pain added a layer of spice to the pleasure as he pushed. His thrusts lost their cadence, going ragged and fast straightaway. I matched him as best I could, pushing hard, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

  Chance kissed me as the intensity ramped up. His tongue moved in my mouth as he did within me. The hint of passivity of my straight leg and his wildness drove me higher. It had never, ever felt this good—and we’d had some amazing sex. He sensed he was outpacing me and he reached between us, strumming so I arched, working against him with agonized, delighted gasps. He broke the kiss when he lost control completely, but he didn’t avert his eyes or hide his face. As he came, he stared down into my eyes, giving me everything.

  No barriers. No doubts.

  My whole body clenched, rocked in gradually diminishing waves. He didn’t let go of me, even afterward. He eased off me, on my good side, and wrapped me up in his arms, hands gentle on my back. I peppered his face with kisses, unable to stop, as if we broke physical contact for even a second, then this reality would dissolve.

  “I’m not going away again,” he promised.

  “Me either.”

  For just a moment, I closed my eyes, head on his chest listening to his heartbeat. This man gave up godhood for you. He died for you. Part of me still felt I didn’t deserve him, but that girl was mostly gone. I did deserve to be loved; I wasn’t a cipher, insignificant and unworthy of joy. Contentment laced with sorrow swelled in me—I’d always grieve quietly for Kel.

  I didn’t mean to sleep, but the day’s events overwhelmed me. The next thing I knew, it was late morning . . . and I was alone. Panic spiked, but there was definitely an indent on the pillow beside me to promise I wasn’t crazy. Then I heard the shower running.

  He’s still here. This is real. This is my life.

  I pushed out a long breath, then joined him. The shower was long and messy, and the housekeeper probably wouldn’t thank us later. But I managed shower sex. Afterward, I dressed in clean clothes while Chance put on what he’d been wearing the day before. I gave Butch his breakfast and a drink in his collapsible travel dishes. Then we took him out for his morning business.

  Just in time, it seemed.

  Once the dog was settled, Chance said, “Let’s swing by Chuch and Eva’s. Then I’m ready to go home if you are.”

  “One stop before that.”

  “Oh?” He cocked his head in a heartbreakingly familiar gesture.

  I know him, I thought. I love him. Always.

  With some effort, I roused myself to answer. “Twila.”

  “You have business with her?”

  “I swore to her. It’s polite to let her know I’m leaving her demesne.”

  “Okay.” I could tell he was eager to get out of Texas—to get back to the life we had been building together before the demons ruined everything.

  Talk about unusual relationship obstacles.

  “This won’t take long.”

  Twilight was closed when we arrived, but Bucky, Jeannie’s husband, was
cleaning the place and stocking the bar. He smiled at me, likely remembering the time he helped me with some remote viewing. Good to see him one last time. If I could help it, I wouldn’t be back in Texas for a while. Our friends could visit us for a change, and the baby gave me a great excuse to make them.

  “Twila in?” I asked.

  “Go on back. She’s expecting you.”

  “Of course,” I murmured.

  Chance cut me a grin. He knew firsthand how knowing and powerful Twila was. One of these days, I’d get the truth of what went down between them. She was working on account books when I walked in, Chance behind me, and her brows shot up. To be honest, I think she expected this quest to kill me.

  If not for Kel, it would have.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. The loas gave you low odds for success,” she said in lieu of greeting.

  “I had an ace in the hole.”

  Not really. I had friends who loved me beyond reason.

  “Smart girl.” Twila skimmed me head to toe, then smiled. “Looks like smooth sailing ahead, Ms. Solomon. The darkness I saw before has fallen away.”

  “I just stopped by to tell you I’m on my way out of San Antonio. I’ll be in Laredo for a little while. Then I’m gone from Texas entirely. You still have my pledge, if you ever need—”

  “Oh, child,” she said, shaking her head. “That vow doesn’t bind you now.”

  “Why not?” Astonishment radiated through me, like the spinning colors of a kaleidoscope, until I couldn’t process a rational thought.

  Twila sighed; clearly my ignorance was a great trial to her. “Because you’re human. I govern only the gifted.”

  Holy shit.

  Just in case I didn’t get it, she elaborated, “Your concerns are mortal now. None of my business.”

  That was unexpected good news. If Twila had washed her hands of me, the rest of the supernatural world should follow suit. “I made peace with the Luren, so hopefully I’m done with demons. And the rest of them should be busy fighting for power in Sheol.”