Revelation (29 page)

Teeth grated on bone, and horror howled up his arm. The pain was intense, unbelievable, like raw hellfire shredding his every nerve, the painsucker’s foul appetite for agony making it a hundred times worse. Dizzy, Lune snarled and head butted him. He didn’t let go. Desperate, Lune flashed the sword to his left hand and slashed. The edge slammed into the thing’s head, splintering bone.

Acid demon blood gushed. The painsucker screamed, and tore free. Angelflesh hung in strips from his teeth. Lune didn’t care. He yanked his blade away and faced up, spinning his sword left-handed. “Come get it, helldirt.”

The painsucker snarled, his shattered skull oozing. His friend hobbled up, and with a hiss of stinking demonsmoke, the leg Lune had severed regenerated. Together, the twins flexed razor talons, and advanced.

Lune crouched, wings flared, and sprang.

The Prince of Poison smiled at Morgan, and her spine chilled deep.

She shivered, disgusted. His black leather armor shone in the moonlight, cruel spikes of iron glinting on shoulder guard and dog collar. His pale, wiry arms gleamed, tight and feral, splashed with blood and dirt like his long snowy hair. He twirled a scarlet-fired hellsword that spat charcoal sparks. He looked like a crazy fetish boy, slender and handsome and totally insane.

Vorvian. The white-haired demon prince who’d tortured Lune. And now he’d infected Babylon with sickness. Ending the world for some filthy demon master.

Bile frothed in Morgan’s throat. Hatred spiked her skin tight. The bruises those horrid creatures had made ached like fever, and behind her, the amorous zombie still gurgled and groaned, rubbing his wet skin against her clothes. “Crawl back to hell, you nasty little slime,” she hissed. “You don’t scare me.”

Vorvian laughed, delighted. “Why, of course not! I’m not your enemy. Let’s be friends, Dr. Morgan Sterling, MD.”

Surprise must have shown on her face, because he cackled and jiggled about, a mad happy dance. “Yes, Morgan, I know who you are. And I can smell the stink of angel on you, darling, so don’t go pretending you and glory boy over there haven’t
been doing the deed…oh, dear.” He shook his head, feigning distress. “Someone’s in trouble.”

Morgan’s heart crunched tight, and she tried not to look, but it was useless. One of Vorvian’s minions was chewing at Lune’s arm, blood splashing everywhere. She struggled to her feet, fearful.

“No, no, no. Stay put.” Vorvian shoved her back down. Just one finger on her shoulder, but her knees hit the concrete with a jarring thud. The bastard was strong.

He squatted before her, jabbing his sword tip into the dirt and leaning on the hilt two-handed. His face loomed uncomfortably close, and his ashen scent made her gag…but it was nice, too, musky and old, like sweet memory of things longed for.

Morgan pulled back, disgusted, but behind, that zombie just kept dry humping her. It squelched. Ugh. She couldn’t move.

Vorvian smiled, handsome. “So how shall we amuse you, darling?” he murmured, and some vile hellspell in his voice licked her skin, warm and intimate. “Shall I let this rotting monkey fuck you? Hmm? Would you like that? Seems like he’s still got all the right parts. Better than angel cock, let me tell you. If you can even dignify that with the name.”

“You’re disgusting.”

He looked pained. “Now that’s not fair. I only aim to please. A lot of you dirty apes enjoy my poison!” He waved his arm at the famished zombies milling around, cackling and chewing and pounding each other over the head. “They look like they’re having fun, don’t they?”

Morgan’s heart burned black. The dark depths of her fury surprised her. She wanted to tear this fucker’s eyeballs out for what he’d done. “Don’t you dare rationalize to me, you evil son of a bitch.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling. Live in fear, or die laughing. Some think that’s a good deal.” Vorvian leaned closer, and waved the eager zombie away. The creature moaned and obeyed, wandering off. “But I rather think I’ll keep you for myself. Kiss me, pretty. Let’s taste what you’re made of.”

Morgan scrambled backwards, but he grabbed her wrist in a flash, still leaning on his sword with the other hand. His grip was like tempered glass, light but unbreakable. That tempting
ashen scent hit her again, insidious. It crept down her nose like a smoky incubus, wheedling, searching for a home. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to inhale, swallow, keep him inside her.

She spat at him, defiant. “I’d rather die.”

“Than kiss me? Don’t believe you.” Amusement glinted green in his eyes. “You don’t believe in hell or heaven, Morgan. You die, it’s forever, right? You really want to flicker out for the sake of one kiss?”

Her heart faltered. Science made her meaningless. Short-lived meat. Just one more animal screaming to a careless sky. She’d always liked it that way, until she met an angel who did strange, improbable things to her heart. Lune’s world was filled with pain and anger and cruel eternity, but at least it meant she mattered. “That’s my problem, not yours.”

Vorvian laughed, velvet and fire. “Are you sure? One kiss and we’ll see. Would it really be so bad? You might like it.”

“Don’t count on it.” Involuntarily, she recalled Luniel’s kiss, rich and breathless with passion, the way she sprang alive inside when he touched her. Kissing another man after that would be tame in comparison. Kissing this…monster would be an aberration. Sacrilege.

She squirmed in Vorvian’s grip. His fingers felt smooth, warm, alive around her wrist. So human. Not unearthly, like her angel. Fascination gripped her, hot and horrid. He was tricking her. He had to be.

“No?” Vorvian dragged her closer. His hair fell on her shoulder, crisp and hot, and his whisper seared her cheek like poisoned fire. “Let me rephrase. Kiss me, Morgan. Or I’ll crush your angel’s bones under my boots until you do.”

Behind Vorvian, Luniel still fought the demon’s minions. He killed one, stabbing it straight through its cursed heart, but staggered as the other crunched sharp teeth into his calf.

Morgan’s heart lurched. But Vorvian’s devil-spelled scent overpowered her, weakening her will. She fought, blindly, struggling to keep her head. “Not a chance. You can’t beat him.”

“You don’t think so? I beat him once already. Didn’t he tell you? And now I’ve got a thousand hungry zombies, and he’s got…” Vorvian smiled, slick. “Well, he’s got no one. Not even you.” And he tossed back his snowy head and howled.

Her blood curdled. An awful, keen, shrieking howl that shivered her bones and dragged unwilling need to obey from deep inside. All around the blackened crater, zombies staggered in their tracks, and stumbled towards them.

Towards Lune. They flailed and gibbered, leaping at him, falling under his sword and boots but swamping him by sheer weight of numbers. He fought, swift and deadly. The second demon minion fell dead. Zombie body parts rolled, and flesh burned in screaming blue flame, but they kept coming.

Morgan’s heart wailed, lost, and she sucked in a deep breath to scream his name.

Glittering red dust tickled her nose. She sneezed. And Vorvian laughed, sharp and cruel like an icicle piercing her soul.

Ash. He’d thrown hell-spelled ash. And like an idiot, she’d breathed it right in.

Demon mind poison.
Acid horror slid into her veins as she remembered Iria’s words. They’d already invaded her dreams. But this time she was awake.

“Morgan!” Lune yelled over the din, and his despair hurt her, deep inside.

Because the spell already had her aching for the demon’s touch. His charcoal scent dried her mouth. Hot shivers racked her, from his light grip on her wrist deep into her body. Resistance flared, but it couldn’t compete with the rising flame in her belly, tempting her to awful sin.

“Morgan.” Vorvian’s whisper caressed straight to her bruised soul. “Forget your angel’s lies. Truth is, there’s no fate but what you make. You can control your destiny, Morgan. I can give you what you desire. Kiss me. You know you want to.”

It sounded so right. So true. Her throat stoppered, and she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t voice the denial that stole up her throat and shriveled dead.

Vorvian released her wrist. She didn’t pull away. Not even when he touched her hair, the light of his fiery hellsword glinting wickedly in his eyes. Her evil dream soaked into her mind, thick with sultry caresses and sighs, and her blood burned. It was Vorvian in her dream. She wanted to be close to him again. Wanted to kiss him, suck his demon tongue into her mouth, feel his sleek caress again on her body, his flesh moving inside her.

Wanted to tear his lying devil’s heart out and eat it.

But she couldn’t move.

Tears ran down her cheeks. Furiously, Luniel fought the gnashing zombies. “Morgan,” he panted, “don’t! He’ll curse you. For the love of heaven…”

But too late. Vorvian already cupped her chin. Before, the demon’s palm felt cool. Now, his touch burned. And with a devilish laugh that iced her spine and inflamed her belly with sick desire, he swept her lips to his.

Ashen fire made her gasp. His mouth burned her, his tongue slipping inside. He tasted of charcoal and burned meat and sickness, disgusting but somehow delicious. Ash clogged her lashes, sealing them shut. His fingers tightened on her chin, and he kissed her deeper, forcing her mouth open wide. And something hot and thick crawled down her throat like a greasy worm.

She gagged, spitting, her eyes flicking open in shock. But his lips sealed over hers, his grip immovable on her chin. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t choke. Could only gulp in panic as the diseased thing slithered down into her guts. It coiled and muttered, like a poisonous snake waiting to strike. Her stomach heaved, desperate to empty itself, but nothing came up.

Vorvian dragged her up with him, his mouth still crushing hers. Dimly, she heard Luniel yell, ripped raw with anguish. Vorvian’s teeth stung her lip, breaking the skin. She cried out, but the sound dissolved in his mouth like salt. He bit his own lip, a soft crunch, and she couldn’t stop his blood trickling over her tongue. It burned, bitter and sweet, tasting of meat and sulfur.

“There,” he whispered, kissing her, smearing their mingled blood over her lips. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

At last, Morgan heaved in a lungful of demon-scented air. And dirty fever shivered over her, settling in a sick wash of heat.

Sweat broke on her skin, trickled down her neck, welled between her breasts to soak her shirt. Her pulse raced. The glands in her throat swelled rapidly, pain stabbing. She coughed, and it hurt, deep in her lungs where wetness festered thick. Her skin shuddered and crawled. Her bones ached. Her eyes stung hot and swollen. And her belly hollowed with the first stirrings of evil, ravenous hunger.

She gulped, famished. Already the blood in her mouth tasted good. She wanted more. Hungrily, she licked her bleeding lips. Mmm.

Dread iced her nerves like cold wire. A scream galloped up her throat, and she opened her mouth, but only a dumb choking sound came out.

Vorvian smiled his beautiful devil’s smile, and raked a possessive thumb over her lips. “There’s a good girl.”

Morgan fell to her knees, her head whirling sick. The virus. He’d infected her with the virus. And now she’d die, ravenous and rotting, spreading the demon’s filth wherever she stumbled.

She heaved in another poisoned breath, and screamed.

Vorvian giggled like a naughty little fetish boy, and skipped away, humming.

Her throat rattled raw. Acid tears slashed her face, and she struggled to crawl up, run. But already, hunger cramped her guts tight like leaden weights, burning, demanding, whipping her to munch, kill, eat until she died.

Greedy saliva spilled down her chin. Her head ached with fever and dehydration and the stark, angry horror of what the demon had done.

Lune yelled, bright blue steel crunching bone as he fought. Her heart stung, the rich memory of his embrace tormenting her. The warm dark safety, the darker passion, his feathers’ hot midnight scent, the liquid sunlight streaming through her veins when he kissed her. But he couldn’t help her.

Wouldn’t help her. He’d said as much. He’d kill her. She was already dead to him. Damned. A creature of hell, beyond redemption.

Sickly, she pushed the thoughts away. Let Lune save the
world, if he wanted to. She’d be dead. Rotting. In hell forever for what she’d done.

She could still feel Vorvian’s lips mashing hers, temptation’s hot caress deep in her flesh. She’d wanted him, wanted to believe him. It had seemed so right. Now, her weakness sickened her. He’d gotten to her so easily, such a simple spell. She’d always considered herself strong willed. Now, she knew how feeble she really was.

Hot damp hands pulled her up by the wrists. She dragged her head up, gagging on putrid fleshstink. Zombies. Oozing grins, raw flesh decomposing on their faces and hands. Dirty clothing, ripped, ruined with blood and shit and who knew what else.

She yelled and fought, dizzy with fever. But they didn’t attack her. Didn’t eat her. Just grinned, and pummeled her with their fists, bonking her over the head with crazy zombie affection. Their decaying sweat smeared over her skin.

Disgust wilted her hungry stomach sick. They recognized her. Accepted her. Loved her, for what she’d become.

One slurped his tongue up her cheek, gurgling. Horror squirmed hot snakes in her guts, and she recognized her amorous friend, the dry humper. “Mmmn,” he said, his blue eyes gleaming dully with decay. “Fnnsm blll. Fkkk.”

Another zombie clunked his skull against hers, a clumsy caress, and the blue-eyed one snarled around rancid teeth and ripped the guy’s arm off. Flesh squelched, and the armless zombie howled as her possessive new friend beat him over the head with his own bleeding limb until he stumbled away. And then Blue-Eyes turned back to her, sniffing greedily at her cheek.

Oh, sweet Jesus.
His decomposing breath made her retch. And—heaven help her—he had a hard-on, strong and burning against her thigh. But still this vile hunger gnawed her stomach hollow.

Unwilled, she licked bloody lips. Her gaze slid over the zombie’s decay-blackened skin. So smooth and slick. So tasty. Her head swam, famished. Images flashed, sinking her teeth into flesh, skin tearing, bone popping, infected saliva running deep…