His silence was palpable, thoughtful, and hesitant at the same time.
Why do you insist on speaking aloud when we talk?
“So I know I haven’t lost my mind.”
“You have not lost your reason, little one. Occasionally you are foolish, but far from irrational.”
A warm hand moved across her forehead. Analise lifted her eyelids. “Sani. You haven’t aged a day.”
“You have,” he retorted. “How is your pain?”
She carefully flexed her shoulder then her wrist. Her facial expression mirrored her thoughts, as first amazement then relief swept through her. “It’s gone. How?”
“Fate took you in hand,” Sani teased. “I wish there was more time to talk, little one, but I cannot keep you with me. He needs you.”
Sani held out his hand. Despite her trepidations, she took it and allowed the old man to guide her to her feet. His strength had always given her comfort and confidence. “Who needs me? And what for?”
He gripped her chilled fingers and warmed them as they walked, leading her deeper into Tsin Łizhin. The quiet soothed her despite the darkness surrounding her. The day she met Sani Hayoi, he’d given her something she thought lost when her biological parents died, a sense of belonging.
Sani halted, gripping her hand to keep her from stumbling. Her confusion must have radiated from her pores as he gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze.
“You must open yourself to your past, Analise,” he advised. “The time has come for your two halves to become whole.”
“Do I have a choice?”
Sani caressed her cheek and chortled. “Not really.”
Analise felt the texture of his skin on hers. It was smooth and rough at the same time. He declared he was a man of the soil yet his flesh told another story. She’d always sensed an otherworldly quality to the Navajo anthropologist who mentored, taught and cared for her.
“Sani?”
“I can go no further, Analise Saria Willoughby. Knowledge kept from you saved your life. Now ignorance will destroy you and so much more if you do not release your memories. This journey you must make on your own.”
“Sani.”
“Go, your Consort waits.”
She stood rooted in the narrow passage, her eyes frantically searching for the Navajo elder who disappeared into the shadows. Her thoughts were chaotic. Sani’s use of her birth name stunned her since he’d always known her as Analise Drake.
Come to me, Analise Saria.
Analise remained where she stood, her paranoia and curiosity at war inside her. I am at your side, Tamahaq.
Comforted by the familiarity of her inner voice, and the warmth her presence exuded, Analise drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. The first step was the most difficult, then it became easier to move forward until she came to a spacious chamber. She hadn’t been this far into the caverns of Tsin Łizhin. The anthropologist in Analise took over at the sight of the cavern walls and her excited gasp echoed softly in the chamber as she studied the pattern.
The polished black stone was a stark contrast to the vertical streaks of cobalt running from ceiling to floor. The room was brightly lit; she just wasn’t sure how. The chamber was an extraordinary feat that made her more determined to discover who created it.
We did.
“Impossible for all kinds of obvious.” Soft laughter teased her mind. Analise rolled her eyes. “Why am I even having this conversation?”
Does it help for you to doubt?
Analise ignored the question and moved further into the interior. She saw an opening and another chamber. It was identical to the first one except for the stone altar in the middle of the room.
“Are you going to tell me I carved this altar as well?”
The voice that replied wasn’t hers. It was Dream Candy who mentally whispered,
It is not an altar. Altar implies worship, and I am not a being to worship. However, if altar helps to put you at ease, you may call it that.
“Dream Candy?” Analise went over to the stone. It was ancient and not local to Chaco Canyon. Her hand moved across the sleek top and familiarity jogged her memory. The Ahaggar Mountains in Algeria. It was the same smooth stone she’d used for her bathroom. She placed her palm on the surface before jerking it back. “What the hell?”
She touched the rock once more and the sensation returned, a faint pressure against her skin and then a gentle pulsation. Slowly circling the stone, she scanned for cracks or traces of electromagnetic rock that might explain what she experienced. The stone was perfect in every way, without marks or blisters.
“It’s time to run since this day is playing like a horror movie, and I’m doing stupid white girl shit.”
Will you move to the other end? You are speaking to my feet.
She reacted without thought and circled the stone once more before stopping. “How did this block of granite get here?”
Much better. Lilith created this chamber to conceal me while I recovered from my battle wounds. I am healed but only you can release me. Will you do so?
Analise instinctively placed her hand on the stone. Electricity jumped from her palm to the rock. She watched the granite’s slow dissolution. Yep, a serious, horror movie plotline.
There is an explanation, Analise Saria.
She gasped when colorful luminescence swirled above the dust. Colors fell away, leaving behind cobalt and silver strands that merged and began to shape a solid body. A pair of long slender feet materialized, followed by smooth muscular legs. The threads continued to form and reform. Minutes ticked by and, instead of dust, she gazed on a toned male body with the right kind of abs, slightly thick thighs, and broad shoulders. “Okay then.”
He was gorgeous and naked. Analise’s gaze dipped to his groin. Her teeth gently worked her bottom lip while she studied him. The hair where his penis rested was identical to the platinum strands of Dream Candy. What left her a bit breathless was his dick. Even in its flaccid state, it was definitely a “yum yum.”
“If this is a Seraphim, I definitely want one to have and to hold.”
“Thank you.”
“Shit. I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” she stammered before lifting her eyes to his face.
Her scream reverberated against the stone walls, the pitch painful to her hearing. Analise staggered back, her fingers clenching into tight fists. “What the hell kind of game are you playing?”
She shook her head and continued to back away. “This isn’t right, Peter, and whatever game you’re playing I’m not.”
When he reached for her, she danced out of his way. “Don’t you fucking touch me.”
“I am not Peter, my name is Lucifer,” he said, lowering his hand. “Let me touch you, Analise Saria. It will prove who I am.”
He is who he claims to be, Tamahaq. He is the one.
Analise felt an invisible band cinch around her entire body, imprisoning her where she stood. She had taken control.
Analise’s eyes followed the slow rise of Lucifer’s fingers toward her cheek. “Please don’t.”
“You are my Consort. My touch will never bring you pain, only pleasure,” he said as a single finger traced her jawline.
There was no pain, and Analise searched his dark blue eyes. Her hand trembled as it touched his naked chest. The contact made her jump a bit. His skin was warm, but it was the sense of familiarity that knotted her forehead in confusion.
“I don’t understand. I met you as Peter Nathanson. We dined at Quincy’s. You’re trying to buy my company. Every time you touched me, it hurt. What changed?”
“Look at me, Analise Saria. Really look at me.”
Lucifer stepped away from her. Her eyes studied him as they’d done for the past two years before she ran a finger along the thin scar on his right cheek. “You’re not him, so alike yet so different. How come I didn’t see it?”
“You did, which is the cause of your confusion. You noted the subtle ways my brother and I are not alike.
Our eyes, our hair, my scar. You noticed, Analise Saria.” He captured her hand. “The one you met as Peter Nathanson is my twin Satan.”
She jerked her hand from his. “Everyone knows Satan is Lucifer’s evil persona. How else can societies force people to do good?”
Her words sounded knee-jerk to her ears so Lucifer’s chortle wasn’t a surprise.
“It is a bit more complicated than the idea of goodness, Consort.” He stared at Analise. “I promise Satan and I are not the same person. We are identical twins. I am the oldest by three minutes, and we are Seraphim. You are my Consort and angelic.”
Analise shook her head and backed away. “I am not angelic. Both my father and my mother were human beings, more or less. I am human and mortal.”
“Saying the words will not change who you are, Analise Saria. You are no more human than I am. If you look deep inside yourself, you will discover the truth. No human being can be my Consort, and you are my Consort.”
“Will you stop using that word.” She stomped over to him, her anger getting the best of her fear, and poked his firm chest. “I am not yours or anybody’s Consort.”
Analise Saria.
“Get out of my head,” she shouted.
He nodded. “There is a way to prove the truth of my words.”
“Why would I want to prove anything?”
“To end your uncertainty,” Lucifer replied. “To rid yourself of fear and find the answers you seek. If you wish to know the truth, there is only one way to discover it. You must face your fears.”
Analise put distance between, halting when she reached the chamber’s opening. She had touched him and knew he was real. She wanted to believe he wasn’t Peter. In the tiny corner of her mind, where she lived, Analise knew Lucifer wasn’t lying. He and Peter were twins. It still didn’t satisfy her paranoia though, and the coward in her balked. Yet she couldn’t leave without the truth.
“What do I have to do?”
He took a step toward her. “You must kiss me.”
Unexpected laughter bubbled up inside her as she stared at Lucifer’s face. He was dead serious. Her laughter erupted, which took a minute or two to bring under control. “You have got to be joking. That’s all you could come up with, a kiss? Not ‘let’s have wild, uninhibited sex and your life will change forever, Analise’? Your answer to all this is a kiss?”
“If you wish to engage in wild, uninhibited sex, I will do so, although it is unnecessary. Given your anxiety, I believe a simple kiss will suffice.”
“What is this? A male version of Sleeping Beauty? I kiss you and suddenly discover what . . . I’m the center of the universe? You must think I’m stupid.”
“No, I do not think you are stupid, Analise Saria. You want proof, I offer a means for you to achieve it. It is yours to accept or refuse.”
She opened her mouth to refuse and found she couldn’t speak the words.
Refusal is not an option, Tamahaq. For our life, you must do as the Seraphim asks.
Interfering witch.
Not really a witch.
Analise slowly approached Lucifer, the rapid beating of her heart an echo inside her head. She stopped inches from him, she said, “A kiss?”
“One kiss.”
Telling herself she was forty distinctive ways fucked, she reached up to take his head between her hands. His exquisite hair felt like strips of silk slipping through her fingers. Her dreams hadn’t prepared her for the tactile sensation, no dream could. She drew Lucifer’s head until his breath was warm on her lips.
“My reason must have gone on holiday,” she murmured as her mouth brushed his warm lips.
Chapter 9
Lucifer’s eyes followed the quick glide of Analise’s tongue across her bottom lip. A tight coil of pleasurable jolts went straight to his penis as he pulled her closer, her firm breasts pressing against his chest. Memories of their dream sex floated between them as her thoughts leaked like water through linen. Her fingers lightly circled his nipple, causing him to shiver.
“Your scent draws me,” she murmured. “I wish it didn’t.”
He sensed the tension building inside her, the conflicting emotions she always faced when he came to her. Lucifer knew what would follow her words. Analise Saria would resist, denying their bond, until her passion took control. There was no rational reason for her to fight Fate, yet his Consort did. Once their lovemaking ended, she would close herself off to his touch. Thus, he wasn’t surprised when Analise Saria pulled away from his mouth and peered at him.
Her gaze shimmered with desire even as she shook her head. Her words, when they came, were resolute. “I want answers, no obfuscation, no lies, and no manipulation.”
Attuned to his Consort’s inner conflict, he heard the rapid beating of her heart, saw the faint tremors rippling across her skin like ocean waves. He reached out to calm her mind and stopped. He would wait.
It took several minutes for Analise to seize control of her panic. When he felt she was ready, he held out his palm. “Will you come with me, Analise Saria? I would have you comfortable while we talk.”
“On one condition, you stop invading my thoughts.”
“Why? You invade mine.”
“It doesn’t make you’re innocent,” she retorted. “You’ve been inside my head so long who knows what time bombs you’ve planted.”
What are time bombs?
“Let’s establish some rules. Rule number one, stay out of my head.”
Lucifer didn’t hide his faint grin. “What is rule number two?”
“I haven’t made it up yet, but rule one is primary,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest.
“As you wish. Will you come with me, Analise Saria?”
Analise nodded and placed her palm on his. He led her into an antechamber off to the right. His presence was everywhere, as well as someone else’s. The cushions and wall hangings reminded her of her biological parents’ bedroom with one exception—the furniture was carved from stone. It was an inviting space she’d expect to find in a house not deep inside a mountain.
She moved to a sofa placed against a solid hematite wall and ran her fingers across a cushion. The colorful threads pulsed beneath her fingertips as if greeting her. Analise peered at the cushion’s patterns, her heart skipping a beat. Algerian Amazigh.
A quick glance at the bed indicated the covers shared the same pattern. The incongruity of place and objects bothered her. This didn’t make sense. How could Tamahaq crafted objects come to be buried deep in a cave on indigenous land in the US? The two cultures were separated by thousands of miles of land and ocean, on two different continents. Who could have brought the objects here?
“Lilith,” Lucifer answered her silent query. “There were times when she needed refuge from my brother. Her Tamahaq descendants all carry the memory.”
Analise stared at the bed and uttered, with absolute certainty, “But, I’m the only human-born to enter this room.”
“You are my Consort.”
Ignoring him, she spied the chair near the entrance and walked over and sat. Paranoia had kicked in. She refused to have her only escape route blocked. “Okay, I’m listening.”
He tilted his head and gave her a quizzical look before he crossed over to the sofa and sprawled on its cushions. She watched with amazement as the stone elongated and widened to accommodate his large muscular frame.
His arms folded across his chest, Lucifer flashed her a smile. He was gorgeous, enticing, and far too confident, which meant he wasn’t about to play fair.
No, I am not. “Where would you like me to begin, Analise Saria?”
She ignored his violation of rule one. “The beginning is always best, Seraphim. Perchance with the Fall. You know . . . of an angel’s first disobedience.”
Amusement flared in his seductive tanzanite-colored eyes. Analise tamped down the urge to get up and punch his sexy chest. Growling softly, she hissed one word. “Talk.”
“I was the first to emerge from
our mother’s womb, which gave me rights and powers Satan could never have. My brother refused to accept his role within the Enclave.”
Analise glimpsed his anguish and sent him a brief sympathetic smile. “The Enclave?”
“It is what we call our world. Satan’s rebellion divided the angels. Many of the younger angels gave him their allegiance.” Lucifer shuttered his gaze. “Sibling rivalry began with angels. Both sides suffered devastating losses and rift among angels.”
“Why?”
“We do not reproduce as often as humans,” he replied. “Angelic life span is such we need not increase our population to survive. My brother’s rebellion changed so many things.”
Lucifer’s eyelids dropped for a second, his body tightening, and Analise saw the hurt swim across his skin. “Satan was determined to end my life. The archangel Lilith saved me.”
“Gabriel Angelis said beheading is the only way to end an angel’s life.” The next words came out on a breath of disbelief. “Your twin would have beheaded you, committed fratricide?”
Lucifer shrugged. “I was an impediment. Humans engage in similar behavior, Consort.”
“Doesn’t make it right,” she retorted. “Who is Lilith?”
“This explanation would be so much easier if you allow me to kiss you again.”
Analise peered at him, her teeth nibbling the right corner of her bottom lip. Though framed as a suggestion, his words triggered such longing she nearly rose and went to him.
“Stop, no manipulation and no compulsion,” she screeched.
“I am doing neither, Analise Saria. Your life thread compels you, it recognizes our bond. It wishes to be whole again.”
She whispered that Analise needed to listen to Lucifer. He is our Consort, Tamahaq.
As much as the Analise standing in the cave wanted certainty, the terrified Analise who created a mental safe room to trap her memories clung to her fear. She had embraced the idea some memories should be left untouched. The process gave her control, of her emotions and her life. Perhaps she had avoided a part of herself much too long, but pain and heartache told her she was justified. Avoidance is so much easier.
Fate's Consort Page 9
