Devil Take Me (19 page)

“Tell me, Petey. Now.”

“Look, over there, inside the grey place.”

“What grey…oh.” Annie spun in a circle, her eyes finally landing on one of the construction sites they’d passed on their way to the bar from her hotel. It was going to be a bank in a year or so the sign said—in both English and several other languages—but right now it was mostly grey concrete walls and the occasional exposed beam.

Except for the pale greenish yellow light shining from below street level, down in what looked like the basement.

“It’s a portal, but I don’t know if it be the one we want.”

“It could be a light they left on for the construction workers,” she mumbled to herself as she moved quickly to the crosswalk, fighting the urge to dash straight across the street, through oncoming traffic. She was strangely compelled to go toward the glow. “Like a mosquito to an electric bug zapper.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” They crossed the street and walked toward the building.

Annie stepped under the bright yellow rope that encircled the site with no hesitation. She figured if she looked like she knew what she was doing no one would stop her. The workers seemed to have left for the day, and what did the people on the street care if she took a tour through a bunch of concrete? There was nothing to steal or the owner of the site would have made sure it was secure. Even Kurdistan, Iraq wasn’t so crime free and safe that anything valuable could be left out in the open.

“I don’t know if we should do this, Nannie. We might get in big trouble.”

“You don’t have to come with me, Petey, I can…come…back…” Words abandoned her as she stepped off the last step and into the basement of the building. That was no construction light, that was…unlike anything she’d ever seen. The rippling waves of energy stretched all the way to the ceiling, thick and heavy looking, more like water standing on its side than light at all. “Average humans obviously can’t see this, can they?”

“Not now. Back long time ago I think they could.” Petey cowered lower in her bag and shivered. “I don’t think you should go, Nannie. Let’s wait for Titurus. This still be here tomorrow and we—”

“But Namtar might not still be alive tomorrow. I’ve waited too long already.” Annie patted Petey softly on the head then plucked him from her purse and sat him gently on the floor still wrapped in her scarf. “Take care of yourself, sweet Pete.”

Nothing would hurt him, no one could even see him and Titurus would be able to follow the trail of his energy when he came looking for them. Even if she didn’t come back, Petey would be fine.

Annie walked closer to the portal, strangely unafraid. This was what she had come here for, to find Namtar, no matter what the risk. She had no doubt he waited on the other side of those greenish gold waves, a part of her had recognized the energy of Ereshkigal’s Underworld immediately. Even if she hadn’t needed to see Namtar safe more than anything else in the world, Annie suspected she might still have journeyed into the void. The pull of the portal was strong, so strong she didn’t even hesitate, simply stepped forward, suspended for a moment in the waves before she began to fall.

Annie awoke as if from a dream, slowly at first, but then scrambling to her feet when she felt dirt beneath her cheek. For a split second she thought she was back in the forest where she’d lost Namtar, but a quick look around revealed she was nowhere she’d even dreamt of before. It clearly was no longer Earth, but it wasn’t a dark, gloomy land of caverns and devils either.

The Underworld wasn’t what she’d expected. It didn’t seem to be under anything at all. Instead, a dark grey sky stretched out as far as her eyes could see, looming over a desolate desert landscape. She’d landed at the very edge of that desert, where sand became stone and stone became a mountain that spiraled up toward the sky. At the top of that mountain was a castle, a giant squatting structure that reminded Annie of a cat preparing to pounce.

She had already decided she was castle-bound, even before the mountain shook and small stones rattled down toward her, skittering across the toes of her boots. After seeing the walls tremble and hearing a woman howl in anger, however, she began to run. The battle was taking place in that building. She had to get there, had to find a way to restore her power and help Namtar.

Annie knew she wasn’t the ideal rescuing heroine. She was still a little overweight and out of shape and possessed of no martial arts skills or supernatural speed—at least not anymore—but at least her purse had come through the portal with her. Her gun and mace weren’t any match against mystical powers, but they might prove useful. At the very least they made her feel more confident rushing into the middle of a supernatural smackdown than she would feel if she were unarmed.

She set out up the hill at a jog, grateful she’d been working out in the past months and had the strength to jog up a hill. For some reason she felt time was of the essence. Namtar and the queen might have been fighting for months, but tonight was the night one of them was going to lose. She felt it in her gut, a tingle deep in her marrow where her magic had been packed away by Samyaza’s spell.

“I’m coming. Just hold on,” Annie panted and ran faster, praying Namtar could hear her. For the first time since he’d left the Earth’s surface, Annie felt a vibration in the thread of connection between them. She suddenly knew, without a doubt, Namtar was in the castle, and that he was hurt—badly.

Once upon a time, the knowledge would have brought tears to her eyes. It still might, but it would be later. Right now, knowing someone had hurt Namtar only made her angry, blindingly angry. She reached into her purse and clenched the gun, more than ready to kill anyone or anything that stood between her and the man she loved.

It was Goddess awful timing.

Ereshkigal with her hubris and easily inflamed temper, Namtar was sure he could have destroyed. Nergal, on the other hand, was surprisingly strong, and made even stronger by his consumption of Samyaza. The king had descended upon the Grigori within seconds of their arrival in the Underworld, ripping at his flesh, devouring the wounded man faster than one of the ancient sea monsters in a feeding frenzy. He’d leapt at Namtar next. They’d been fighting ever since.

Days, months, years—Namtar was no longer sure how long they’d been at each other, only that their battle had been waged all through the great court, careening from one room to another while the rest of the ancient ones did their best to stay out of their way. They were back in the throne room again now, back where Ereshkigal had been chained to the wall when Namtar had first arrived. Nergal had double-crossed his queen, making some illicit deal with Samyaza, and then double-crossed the Grigori by eating him alive.

If that could be called a double-cross. It was actually more of a betrayal, Namtar supposed. Or perhaps the king had merely been hungry.

“Your laughter betrays the failure of your mind,” Nergal hissed, circling around the great feasting table.

“Your inability to laugh confirms the failure of your sense of humor.” Namtar countered the movement, doing his best to stay out of reach until the wound he’d sustained on his head had a bit of time to heal.

Nergal had hit him with some sort of serving dish. Afterward, when he’d fallen to the ground, he’d actually heard Ereshkigal scream in what sounded like despair to see him lose the battle. Perhaps she’d changed her mind about wanting Namtar dead now that she’d been taken captive by her husband.

Or maybe the Iron of the Gods had simply shifted uncomfortably inside her ass. Before their battle left the throne room the first time, Namtar had noticed that Ereshkigal had been impaled on her own torture instrument. Poetic justice, he supposed, punishment for having such a thing created in the first place.

“Nergal…please,” she pleaded as her husband stalked by her station on the wall in pursuit of Namtar. Nergal ignored her, as if his ears no longer recognized the voice of the woman whose bed he had shared for four thousand years.

“Did you penetrate the queen yourself, Nergal?” Namtar asked. “Or did you allow one of her victims the pleasure?”

“There is no more queen, only a king now.”

“That’s strange, I’m fairly certain I see her hanging there on the—”

“You are mad, Namtar.”

Namtar laughed again.

“It is time to lie down and die.” Nergal ripped what remained of his shirt from his chest. Now they were both down to their pants and bare feet. Namtar had lost his shoes several days ago in some manner he couldn’t remember now. Perhaps Nergal was correct and his mind was going, perhaps—

“Die! You must die!” Nergal flung himself across the table.

Namtar didn’t react nearly as quickly as he would have liked, but his kick connected, barely catching Nergal under the chin and sending him flying backward. Namtar tipped the table over onto the sprawling king and turned to run. He would take the battle out of doors. The rocks would wound their feet, but there would be an abundance of weapons available. Both he and the king had lost the strength to use magic some time ago. They were reduced to battling like mortals now, grabbling with hands, throwing whatever large objects they could find at—

“Namtar!” The sweet voice cut through him, stealing his breath, making him stumble and fall to his knees on the slick marble beneath his bare feet.

Namtar spun to see Annie rushing toward him. She wasn’t wearing one of her sundresses this time, as she had every other time he’d hallucinated her presence. Instead, her curves were covered by a deep purple sweater and jeans the same color his had been before the battle with Nergal had begun. She also looked thinner, and there were dark circles under her lovely eyes. The change in her was almost enough to make him think this time was different, that this time she was actually real.

“Ninani?” His voice was raw, thick with the emotion that had washed over him every time he’d thought she’d found her way to him.

He reached his arms toward her, unable to help himself. Even if this was another trick of his mind, even if Nergal had somehow regained the strength to use his magic and was using his skill at illusion to distract Namtar while the king scrambled from beneath the giant stone table, he didn’t care. He needed to hold Annie, even if she was a false Annie, one last time before he died. He was growing too weak to fight much longer.

Annie fell to her knees beside him, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him tight for a brief moment. In that second he smelled lavender and spice, and the sweet scent of freshly tilled Earth that had meant Annie to him from the first moment he had claimed her lips in the square cave. None of the other hallucinations had been accompanied by smell, or the feel of soft material under the trembling hands he wrapped around her waist.

And none of the other hallucinations had moaned in his arms as energy surged back into Annie’s body, her magic reawakened once more by the touch of another of the dark Annunaki power.

“Annie…you have come. You truly have come.” Namtar pulled back, gazing into her face with wonder.

“I have, and I’m never leaving you again.” She kissed his forehead, like a mother kissing her child, letting Namtar know he must look as weary and beaten as he felt. Then she turned toward the sound of stone sliding across the floor.

Nergal pulled himself from the rubble, blood streaming from a new wound at his brow. Namtar leapt to his feet. He had to make sure Annie was safe, to ensure she was out of danger before he attacked Nergal with renewed spirit. Touching his love for a moment had already brought his magic surging back to life. He would be able to defeat Nergal now, he had no doubt of it.

Namtar turned to help Annie rise, but she was already standing, legs spread slightly wider than her shoulders, arms stretched out in front of her. He barely had time to notice the gun she clenched in her hands before she fired, again and again, hitting her target every time. Nergal twitched and moaned as the bullets pierced his flesh, but did not slow his advance.

“Modern weapons will not kill him,” Namtar warned.

“I know, but maybe this will.” Annie reached out with her magic, as sure and strong as if she had possessed control of it all her life, and summoned the blood from Nergal’s wounds.

Perhaps it was the fact that the king was as ancient as any of their kind, or that he had devoured Samyaza’s blood not too terribly long ago, but by the time he fell to the ground, the floor of the throne room was a foot deep in blood. Rivers of the king’s essence streamed down the steps into the great hall, the soft whisper of liquid over stone the only sound that broke the profound silence.

The king was dead, and the queen along with him.

Ereshkigal hung limp and breathless on the wall, her broken body unequipped to withstand the death of her consort. A few moments later, golden light broke through the windows high at the top of the throne room. Namtar watched the first sunrise in hundreds of seasons shine on his ninani’s tousled curls and smiled before exhaustion claimed him and he fell to the bloody floor and into a hard sleep.

“We should go downstairs. We’ve been gone well over an hour,” Annie whispered against his lips, but she made no move to rise from the pillows they’d piled on the balcony of the royal suite.

“The sun has not set just yet.” Namtar rolled onto his back, pulling his wife on top of him, smoothing his hands softly down her back and over the curve of her bare ass. “We said we wished a few moments alone to watch the sunset, did we not?”

“You haven’t been watching the sun.” She smiled, the rosy light of dusk caressing her face making her even more beautiful. If such a thing were possible.

“I am watching something even more lovely.” Namtar kissed her, softly but thoroughly, waiting until her breath sped before he brought his hands to her breasts.

They’d had each other less than ten minutes past, but he was already eager to take Annie again, to work his cock into her slick sheath and fuck her until they both shattered apart and reformed even closer than they had been when they started. Each time they made love, Namtar could feel the bond between them strengthening, the fiber of their beings becoming so deeply entwined he knew he would never find his way free of her.

Not that he would wish his freedom. He would remain her willing captive until the day he died.

“I never want to be without you, ever again,” Annie said, as if she had read his mind. She pulled away from his kiss to look at him, her lashes slightly damp.

“And you never will be.” Namtar cupped her sweet face in his hand, almost glad to see her tears. Annie had been doing her best to be strong for him, but now he was fully healed and ready to be strong enough for the both of them for a time.

She hadn’t cried after the violent death of Nergal, or when Namtar had been bedridden for two days afterward and she became responsible for communicating his dictates to the rest of the Sumerian world. She hadn’t even cried when Titurus brought news that the demon babe she called Petey had been injured trying to follow her into the portal to the Underworld. She’d simply tended the little one’s wounds and carried on, carrying him with her in her purse as she helped clean and repair the castle, as strong as any queen the ancient people had ever seen.

Annie had earned the respect of their people in the first few days, just as quickly as she had earned the love of her husband.

“I love you too much to ever let you leave my side.” Namtar moved his hands to her hips, urging her a little higher, positioning his cock at her slick entrance. “In fact, if I had my way, I would prefer to be inside you at all times.”

He pushed into her warm, tight sheath. Annie’s eyelids fluttered and a satisfied sigh escaped her parted lips. “That might be difficult…logistically.”

“They royal family has a litter that was once used for shorter journeys through the Underworld. It has quite a nice bed within it.”

Namtar lifted his hips, thrusting all the way to the end of his love, filling her completely, shocked to find she felt even better than she had a few moments ago. He wouldn’t have thought such a thing possible, just as he wouldn’t have thought he could love her any more than that day she had arrived at the palace. The past month had proved him wrong, again and again, as every day he awoke to see her next to him and fell deeper under her spell.

“A bed?” Annie pressed her hands into his chest, shifting until she found the angle she preferred, and then began to ride him, slowly, sensuously, her full breasts bouncing lightly as she moved. She was achingly beautiful, though still a bit too thin, a condition Namtar hoped the coming fortnight of feasting would help remedy.

“Yes, we could hire servants to carry us around wherever we wish to go, so that I might stay buried in this sweet pussy for—”

“Less talking, more fucking.” She laughed, a rich, wonderful sound that faded to a sigh as he took her breasts in his hands once more, plucking and teasing at her nipples. “We have to…hurry…”

“I will not hurry.” Namtar rolled them over, coming on top of her without missing a beat in the rhythm they had established. “I will fuck my queen thoroughly, completely, until she screams my name into the night.”

“The coronation feast was your idea.”

“The coronation feast is an ancient tradition.” He moved faster, pumping in and out of her pussy, groaning as a rush of cream coated his cock. He wasn’t going to last much longer, no matter how determined he was to take his time loving his wife. “Who am I to go against tradition?”

“Says the man who’s broken nearly every rule in the book.” Annie laughed, a breathless, eager sound that made Namtar thrust harder, deeper. Her fingernails dug into the muscles of his arms, driving him on. Namtar circled his hips, varying his tempo in a way that always made Annie moan.

“Yes, please, God, please,” she cried out, body tightening around his cock as she grew closer to finding her pleasure.

“My name, wife. I would have you scream my name when you come.” Namtar brought his thumb to her clit, applying the perfect teasing pressure as he pistoned in and out of her molten core.

Seconds later, she obliged him, calling his name so loudly that her cry echoed off the stone walls of the castle, and down to the courtyard. But Namtar’s own groan of release was overshadowed by the great cheer that sounded from below, the ancient people expressing their approval for the mating of their new king and queen.

Annie’s inner muscles milked his cock, and her lips were still slightly parted in pleasure, but her eyes nevertheless flew wide open in surprise. “What…was…that?”

“Another tradition, I’m afraid. The people want to know their new queen has been bedded properly. They used to observe from inside the chamber, but I was assured by my new advisors that this would be a suitable compromise.”

“As if you haven’t bedded me properly every night for the past two weeks?” She blushed, but he could see that the knowledge others had been listening didn’t alarm her. In fact, judging by the tightening of her berry colored nipples, he would guess the opposite was true. Namtar smiled, wondering if he might have the pleasure of bedding his wife a third time before they were forced to rejoin the celebration downstairs in the throne room.