Princess of Lust (For the Love of Evil)

by Mayburn, Ann

  He turned his head to the side, and in the subdued glow of a single will-o’-the-wisp, watched Kirin get an extra blanket from the cedar chest next to the window. He really was a handsome man and Gregor admired the way his abdominal muscles tightened and released as he tossed the blanket onto the bed. With quick, efficient movements he took off his pants, revealing a thick cock even in its resting state.

  “What are you doing?”

  Kirin crawled onto the bed, his dick and testicles dangling in an appealing manner as he made his way to Gregor on the enormous bed that could easily sleep six adults. “I’m staying with you tonight.”

  Gregor protested as Kirin wrapped the blanket around them both and hauled him next to him. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  Kirin tensed behind him and gave his ass a pinch hard enough that Gregor yelped. “Did it ever occur to you that not everything is about you?”

  That statement stung and Gregor pushed away enough so he could turn and look at the other man. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Appearing incredibly weary, Kirin grabbed his hand and held it. “I’m here because I need you. One thing that being with Raum has taught me is that it’s all right to let your friends know when you need them. Well, I consider you my friend and I need you tonight. I’ve been in battle with Raum before. I know what he is facing. I don’t want to be alone.”

  He stared at Kirin and slowly nodded. Truth be told, he didn’t relish the thought of sleeping alone tonight, not with his feelings so raw and vulnerable, but he would never admit it the way Kirin had. His father had taught him you could never, ever let anyone see your weakness, not even those you loved. He’d proven this by beating Gregor senseless for crying over the death of his pet dog when he’d been nine.

  He couldn’t offer the words of comfort he knew Kirin wanted; he didn’t know how. Instead he pushed Kirin over and took him in his arms, marveling at how different it felt to be holding a man instead of a woman. Still, holding Kirin soothed an empty ache in his own heart and, he didn’t object when the other man placed a gentle kiss on his hand. Lying in the dark hush of the castle, Gregor’s heart ached for Natalia and he hoped wherever his Mistress was, she was safe.

  Chapter Eleven

  Natalia avoided looking at her reflection in the small mirror hanging on the back of the water closet door and hurried back to the laboratory. She’d been here for six days now and was no closer to figuring out a way to help Christopher than she’d been that first day she’d awoken in the hospital. Frustration boiled through her veins, and she practically ran to the small table at the corner of the vast room that held all of the scientific equipment Christopher worked with. It didn’t help that her body ached and her head felt as if it were going to explode from a terrible pounding behind her eyes.

  Last night, Pyriel had briefly managed to visit her in her dreams, but they only managed to exchange a few words before the succubus lost her hold. She’d learned about the skirmishes happening at the borders of Asmodeus’s kingdom and that her men were all right. Unfortunately, she didn’t have any good news to give in return.

  As usual, an almost full teapot of the special “calming tea” the housekeeper made for her sat at the ready, along with a few finger sandwiches and sweets for Christopher. Not that he would eat anything. He was deeply immersed in his research. Last night, before she’d finally been allowed to go to bed after falling asleep while crushing herbs in a mortar, he’d told her today would be the day. Only another cup of the then stone-cold tea had allowed her to fall into a deep sleep.

  She ran for the table, eager for the tea to soothe her shaking muscles and pounding headache. Pouring herself a large amount of tea into one of the ivory porcelain cups, she sniffed at the brew and tried to figure out what was in it. This bitter mixture was the first calming tea that really did calm her, turning her muscles loose and soothing away her fears. The more she drank the more she relaxed until she had to focus on such mundane things as putting the cup back on the table rather than letting it list and wet her uniform.

  Her demonic essence also seemed to react to the tea, going into such a deep sleep she almost couldn’t feel it anymore. A part of her liked that, liked being alone in her own head again, but another part of her worried something was wrong. Maybe it had to do with the religious icons Christopher had scattered about the laboratory. Despite the fact he broke the covenant of marriage by sleeping with her, he still considered himself a deeply religious man and spent an hour each morning praying. Not that he’d done anything more than use her as a lab assistant after her return from the hospital. When he was deep in his research, he forgot about everything around him and for that she was thankful. She didn’t think she could stand for anyone other than her men to touch her.

  Her men. What was happening with them? If not for the fact she held a part of their soul, and they hers, she would doubt they were even still alive. Maybe they were blocked from contacting her because of the religious icons, or maybe they didn’t want to give any of the no doubt legions of demons and angels that were looking for her an easy trail to follow. Regardless of the reason, she missed them deeply and couldn’t wait to get her mission over with so she could be with them again.

  The tea settled in her empty stomach, soothing her nerves and pushing away any lingering anxiety. She stared at the teapot, but her mind refused to focus on anything but how pretty it looked in the beam of sunlight striking the side of its shiny, silver surface. How had she never appreciated how beautiful the world was, how enchanting the curve of silver in sunlight could be?

  “Eliza, come over here!”

  She startled, almost falling out of the chair as her limp muscles struggled to comply with the signals her mind sent for them to move. “Yes, sir,” she called out and quickly inspected her drab gray dress and white apron for any wet splotches. Christopher was militant about keeping his laboratory clean and would make her change at the first sight of any stains on her dress.

  The oddly shaped glass of the different pieces of equipment gleamed in the steady stream of sunlight coming in through the large glass windows that looked out into the garden. Not a trace of dust was to be seen anywhere, and she spent a good part of her days endlessly polishing the different pieces of equipment. Across the expanse of neatly tailored green lawn and carefully pruned rose bushes sat the Wright’s London home, where the rest of the Wright family lived. Thankfully Mrs. Wright avoided coming to the laboratory at all costs, and she’d yet to be formally introduced to the lady of the house. Even though Christopher had been too wrapped up in his work to make any sexual advances toward her, she still didn’t relish the idea that to Mrs. Wright she looked like Eliza, the woman who’d been sleeping with her husband for the past three years.

  “Eliza!”

  The fabric of her dress rustled as she lifted the skirts and picked up her pace. Her view of Christopher, as he looked up, was distorted by a large glass ball bubbling with some dark liquid inside. Moving round to the other side of the table, she swayed as the room seemed to tilt about her and braced her arm against the edge of the counter.

  Christopher frowned at her and set down the test tube he held into the small wood rack on the long table holding the equipment. “Have you eaten yet today?”

  She frowned and tried to remember if she’d had any of the sandwiches on the tray, or just the tea. Her thoughts were so fuzzy, murky, like the teapot had been filled with vodka instead of tea. “I don’t believe so, Mr. Wright. I did have some of the tea, though.” She still found that odd, not being able to call him by his first name even though they’d been as intimate as a man and woman could be.

  His fingers were cool as he checked her pulse and examined her eyes. “No more tea for now. I don’t want the laudanum to interfere with the effects of the serum.”

  She blinked at him, trying to hide her confusion as she fumbled with Eliza’s memories, looking for the meaning of the word “laudanum.” When the answer came, she had to turn her back, pretending
to clean a spot on the counter with the rag she kept tucked into the pocket of her dress. Laudanum was a syrup containing morphine. Every day for the past five days, she’d been drinking what amounted to liquid opium.

  Her stomach recoiled, and she cursed herself for being so stupid. Of course there wasn’t a tea on earth that could make her feel so calm and relaxed, so good. Even worse, she remembered how often she found herself turning to the tea, drinking it by the potful. No wonder her thoughts were so confused. It wasn’t the religious icons in the room, it was the opium soaking into her body under the innocent guise of tea. Swallowing hard, she turned back to Christopher with what she hoped was a contrite expression.

  Christopher gave her an odd look and she placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m afraid my injury is still giving me a bit of pain.”

  His gaze softened and he patted her cheek. “I understand.” He turned to the table and held up the test tube with the clear liquid. “I’m going to go test this on the dogs. If it works I may have the answer to your pain, to the world’s pain.” His eyes took on a bright, almost feverish light and his voice dropped to a whisper. “No one will ever have to feel pain of addiction again.”

  Unable to form a coherent response, she nodded and began to wipe up an imaginary spill on the counter, hoping he didn’t notice how her hands shook. The side door leading to the kennels at the back of the property open and shut, leaving her in the silence of the room, broken only by the soft bubbling of his experiments.

  Her mind clouded as the opium continued to ride through her system, and she had trouble organizing her thoughts. If Christopher really did have the cure, she could go home and bring the wonderful news with her. Her stomach lurched as she realized that she could very well be in danger of becoming addicted to opium herself, but quickly brushed that thought away. Only humans could become ensnared by the drug, and she had too much demonic blood for that to happen. Didn’t she?

  The grandfather clock on the far side of the room began to chime and she watched the door for Christopher’s return. Her thoughts turned back to Hell and she wondered what was going on, if war had broken out yet. Surely her abrupt departure from the ball had been noticed, and if she was right, it had been close to a month in Hell’s timeframe since she had left. So much could happen in a month. So much could go wrong.

  The side door banged open and Christopher strode through, a look of excitement on his fleshy face. “The dog seemed to respond well.”

  “That is wonderful,” she said in a rough voice but he was too caught up in his thoughts to notice.

  “Roll up your sleeve, Eliza.”

  “What?”

  Now he did focus on her and his eyes narrowed. “Don’t sass me, girl, roll up your sleeve. I have a very important benefactor coming today to see our progress.” He licked his lips and she noticed for the first time that he was scared as well as excited. “I need to show him that his investment in my work is finally paying off. He is not the kind of man you trifle with.”

  She backed away a step as he filled a syringe with the clear liquid. “But—I don’t—”

  He turned on her, his nostrils flaring. “What is wrong with you? Have I ever hurt you, Eliza? Have I been nothing but kind and generous with you? I could have left you in the gutter where I found you, but instead I’ve given you everything you could ever want. Now stop being foolish and come here, or I’ll find an assistant that will follow my orders. Just think, if this works you’ll never again need to feel the sickness of addiction. You’ll be cured, Eliza, free at last.”

  He meant it. She could see it in the desperation in his eyes and recalled through Eliza’s memories that Christopher had used her to replace a former assistant who had become mentally unstable because of his experiments. Desperate for some time to think, some way to delay him, she tried to smile. “Mr. Wright, don’t you think it would be better if we did some more experiments on the animals first?”

  He paused then shook his head. “No, no time. It is safe, but I need to test first before I show it to our benefactor.” He waved the syringe full of liquid at her. “Diacetylmorphine. Just think of what this could do for humanity. Stronger than morphine, but without the addictive properties. All of the benefits with none of the risk. It is a blessing from God.”

  He tugged her over and unbuttoned her sleeve, rolling it up and exposing the needle marks all over her arm. She felt numb, disconnected, as he tied a rubber strap around her arm and probed her skin with his fingertip. The scent of rubbing alcohol stung her nose as he cleaned off her skin. Even her voice sounded like it was coming from a different person as she said, “Please, what if it kills me?”

  He paused with the syringe poised above her arm. “Don’t be daft. If it didn’t kill the dog, it won’t kill you.” With that, he sank the tip of the needle into her skin with a stinging pop and pressed the depressor of the syringe.

  She tensed, her muscles locking as the realization of what he was doing screamed through her mind. In the depths of her soul, her demonic essence struggled to awaken, but the moment the opium-based concoction hit her blood she was lost.

  Warmth. Bliss. Joy. Comfort. Her legs gave way. Making a startled sound, Christopher caught her and eased her to a sitting position on the floor with her back propped against the leg of the table. A long, low breath left her as ecstasy coursed through her veins. It was better than sex, better than anything she’d ever felt. If she had to describe it, she would say it was similar to the sensation of an orgasm, mixed with the joy of eating a delicious cake, while being held in the arms of her beloved.

  The feeling intensified with every beat of her heart and her eyelids slowly closed, revealing beautiful colors racing across her mind like clouds. Each breath she took was a miracle, each second she lived holding enough joy and pleasure to make everything that had come before it seem like nothing. She could never feel better than this, ever.

  Christopher’s voice intruded into her thoughts. “Eliza, how do you feel?”

  Eliza? Who was Eliza? She wished he would go away and leave her alone.

  A hand slapped her cheek but it didn’t bother her. “Eliza, how do you feel?”

  Maybe if she answered him he’d go away. “Good, so good. Better than anything. Bliss.”

  He made a low sigh and traced his hand down her cheek. “That’s a good girl. Does your shoulder hurt?”

  She laughed in complete joy, hugging herself and relishing the bliss coursing through her. Even the constant ache of missing her men had vanished. “No, nothing hurts. Not even my heart.” She managed to open her eyes, wanting to express to him how wonderful it was, wanting him to see her sincerity. “Amazing.”

  He smiled and rolled her sleeve back in place, buttoning the edges. “Let’s get you off the floor.”

  She tried to stand, but she just didn’t care, about anything. In fact, he could have left her lying on the floor all day and it wouldn’t have bothered her. Spiders could weave their webs between her fingers and she’d just enjoy the sensation of their legs touching her skin. A sense of comfort enveloped her, as if she were being cradled in her mother’s arms.

  “I miss my mother,” she said in a faint voice as Christopher dragged her to a long sofa beneath the window.

  “Well, you can go visit her in a few days,” he replied in an absent voice as he tucked a faded quilt around her shoulders.

  Sorrow tried to push through the euphoria, but it couldn’t breech the silken cocoon the drug had swathed her in. “No, she’s dead. The demons killed her and the man I thought was my father.” Outside the window, a bird flew over the building and she almost wept at the beauty of it.

  Christopher held her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. “Eliza, what did you just say?”

  She pursed her lips and got lost in the sensation of her facial muscles moving. He gripped her chin harder, but it didn’t hurt. “Eliza, look at me. What did you say?”

  “My name isn’t Eliza, it’s Natalia. Princess Nata
lia.” She giggled at his confused expression. “I’m here to help you save Heaven and Hell.”

  His thick brows drew into a solid line. “Stop this nonsense at once.”

  “Oh, it’s not nonsense.” She sighed as he released her chin and closed her eyes. “I wish I could show you some magic that would make you believe me, but I’m afraid I’m not demon enough yet.” She smiled and relished the sensation of the sunlight warming her skin.

  The couch shifted as Christopher sat at the other end. For a long time he didn’t say anything, but she didn’t care. She’d found Heaven on earth and never wanted the feeling to end. She drifted off to sleep, listening to the sounds of him working in his laboratory.

  ***

  The next morning a maid woke her from her deep sleep and told her Mr. Wright waited for her in the laboratory. It took her longer than usual because her whole body ached, and shortly after rising, she threw up the contents of her mostly empty stomach. Looking into the small mirror over the washbasin, she struggled to get herself under control. It didn’t help her confused mind that the face looking back at her was Eliza’s, not her own.

  After wrapping a shawl about her shoulders, she hurried across the small cobblestone courtyard from the servant’s quarters to the laboratory. Christopher waited for her with a tray of hot biscuits and tea. The pounding in her head increased and a cold seemed to consume her from deep within.

  Trying to appear normal, she took a seat on the opposite side of the table from Christopher. Something had happened yesterday after he’d given her the drug, but the details were fuzzy. All she could remember was how incredibly good she had felt. After taking a sip of the tea, regular tea now instead of the usual calming brew, she waited for him to speak.