Revelation (30 page)

Blue-Eyes groaned with glee, and smeared his rotting lips over hers. Her stomach heaved, and she threw up. Sour and stinging. Right in his face.

Her body shuddered, repulsed and compelled at the same time. Hunger made her drool, longing for warm raw flesh. Her teeth ached to bite. This was so vile. She couldn’t take it.
Oh, God, please just let me die.

But more zombies grabbed her, dragging her to the ground. She struggled. Her skull clanged against the concrete. She needed to pee. Blue-Eyes climbed onto her, sliding greasy hands under her t-shirt.

She punched him, but he liked it. He nipped her belly with a happy little grunt, not quite piercing the skin, like he was teasing himself. He slobbered, wetting her. Her guts watered sick. She kicked, but the others held her down, sniggering.

Blue-Eyes just moaned and slurped his lumpy tongue over her skin, fumbling with spongy fingers to undo her buttons and peel her jeans down. He crawled up her body, sweaty with fever, and his fruity breath crawled over her tongue and down her throat.

Horror pierced her cold like a poisoned blade. And her mind went away, drifting through smoke-tainted air on the shrill currents of her screams, and she watched, detached, while below her, her body shuddered and yearned and bled…and ate.

Morgan screamed, and Luniel’s lost soul stripped raw.

He staggered on limp wings, shuddering in protest at the sound of her pain. Zombies gnawed at him. Blindly, he slapped them aside. He couldn’t look. Couldn’t see her, cursed and broken, at the mercy of hungry hell-things that snapped and tore at her precious skin.

Vorvian had taken her. The curse was upon her. She’d kissed the vile demon, hot and hungry, and just like Eleanor, nothing Lune could do or say would bring her back to him.

Clarity zinged his mind electric. He should have taken her away from here. Chanced his gutless heart for once and told her the truth.
Morgan, I’ve only known you for one day but my heart is yours. I want you to be mine. Come away with me before I get you killed, and together we’ll watch the world burn around us.

And now he’d never get the chance. She was cursed, lost to sense and reason. He’d failed her.

Pain tore his heart afresh, and deep inside, an evil little voice cackled bright.
Shoulda known better, angel. You can’t change fate. Shoulda killed her at the beginning, while she was still going to heaven. She’ll burn forever because of you. How’d you like that?

But he couldn’t let her go. Not yet. He gripped his sword, numb, and hurled himself towards her.

Serpent swift, Vorvian sprang into his path, and they hit the ground together.

His skull rattled, ashen demonstink making him retch. Vorvian grabbed his hair and slammed his head into the dirt again, and dizzily he clawed for the demon’s smug red eyes. Slimy fucker was strong. Too strong. Always had been. Vorvian ripped out a fistful of feathers, splurting blood in Lune’s eyes. Crimson blinded him, and Vorvian pinned his shoulders down with pointy knees, and jammed his sword blade crosswise, a hair from Lune’s throat.

Lune fought, flinging out a desperate plea to glory. He had to get up. Had to get those monsters off Morgan, let her die in peace. But hellflame rippled red over Vorvian’s skin, and his devilmagic glued Lune to the ground, invisible magnetism that smoked and stank like brimstone. Lune’s feathers plastered to the concrete. His hair yanked tight like it was stuck in glue. He strained aching muscles, useless. He could barely move.

“Well, I’ve gotta say, this hasn’t been as much fun as I thought.” Vorvian twisted his wrist, and sizzling steel stung Lune’s throat. “You’re far too easy to torment. Still,” he added with a wicked grin, “your girlfriend tastes pretty good, hey what?”

He bent closer, and Lune snapped at him, rage lighting his feathers blue, but the demon dodged, and fastened his teeth on Lune’s ear. The bite sizzled, and Vorvian dragged Lune’s head around with teeth and fist to make him look.

Morgan, spread on the ground, zombies holding her down while one peeled her clothes off. She kicked and yelled, but ever more weakly, her eyes glazed with terror and disgust and ripe hunger that longed to be satisfied.

Helplessly Lune fought the demon’s spell. “Morgan,” he panted, “hold on. Don’t let go. Please.”

Her gaze met his. Bloodshot. Fevered. Empty. The zombie atop her smeared his lips over her cheek. The amber light in her eyes faded. And she stretched her fever-hungry jaws open, and bit.

Lune choked on anguish. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, turn away. But he couldn’t stop watching. Couldn’t stop
seeing his beautiful lady made into a monster. Tearing skin, popping muscle, blood…

Vorvian squirmed with a pleasured groan. “Ooh, lookie. Morgan’s hungry. Do you think she’ll like being fucked by a rotting psychopath? She’ll be lucid for a while. Shouldn’t be surprised if it tips her over the edge. And then she’ll be mine, Lune. To do with as I please.”

“Don’t count on it, asshole. She’ll die before she submits to you.” Lune bared his teeth, feral, but inside his nerves screamed. He couldn’t make himself believe it. She was lost.

“Oh, I don’t think so, pet.” Vorvian dropped a cheeky kiss on Lune’s nose. “Making them hate you is almost as good as fucking them. Is her cunt as tight and smooth as Eleanor’s? Probably not, eh? These modern girls screw like rabbits. But still, it’ll feel good to know my cock’s inside your woman. Again.”

Rage flowered hot, a fresh wash of strength, and Lune aimed a head butt at Vorvian’s chin. His hair ripped free of the spell, and he connected with a satisfying crunch.

Vorvian grunted, his crushed chin reforming with an angry flash of hellfire. “Hey, that hurt!”

“Good. Is making me suffer all you care about? You petty little shitwad.”

“Actually, yeah. Pretty much. Are we having fun yet?”

“Curse you, hellspawn.” Glory tingled, and Lune spat a sizzling heavencurse into Vorvian’s eye.

Vorvian yowled and swore, batting the burning fluid away. His right eyeball glazed over, half-healed, and he leapt backwards, landing with his blade poised. “Rat-fucking godscum. Look what you’ve done! Gone and pissed me off again.” He screwed his eye shut, straining, and it finally healed in a stinking puff of smoke. “So I’ll be off now. Got errands to run. Plagues to spread, zombies to rule, that sort of thing. All this is only the start of my work.”

Lune jumped up on bleeding wings, the spell finally broken. Behind him, Morgan splashed in blood. “Monologue away, hellshit. I’ll chew your fucking entrails out.”

The demon howled laughter. “Ha-ha! You’re so funny! Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Lune speared a wish, and his sword smacked into his sweaty palm. Blue flame dripped electric with the force of his fury.
“Yeah, actually. How long will it take for you to bleed to death, again?”

A mock shiver. “Ooh. I’m so scared. I was thinking more along the lines of…you can’t be in two places at once?” Vorvian grinned, and ducked closer over his sword to whisper. “It’s just like old times! You can kill me. You can save your tasty little bitch. But”—he made a sad face, poking his bottom lip out—“I’m not so sure you can do both, Lune. I’m so sorry. But hell, it’s your choice!” He cackled, cruel sparks spitting scarlet, and gave a cheeky wave. “Enjoy the show, now. See ya. Bye.”

Blood thudded hot in Lune’s skull, his muscles afire with lust for vengeance. But Vorvian already danced away into the howling crowd. Free to wreak fresh havoc. More zombies. More disease. More death.

Desperation sliced his nerves ragged.
Can’t let Vorvian get away. Not again.
The monster deserved a horrid death. And if Lune let him escape again, it wouldn’t only be Vorvian who tumbled screaming into the fire. He’d already used up his chance. If he spurned heaven’s mission for a woman a second time, they’d cast him into hell without a blink.

He leapt aloft, chasing Vorvian’s vile stench. There he was, skipping between shambling zombies. Angry glory struck Lune’s veins afire, and he swept back burning wings to strike.

But Morgan’s shrill scream dragged him to a halt.

The thing in Morgan’s body lay shrieking, her near-naked skin smeared in zombie filth. But in her eyes, a tiny light of life glimmered, terrified and alone. And it seared a hole in Lune’s frozen heart.

Somewhere in there, she still lived. Somewhere, his lovely Morgan wailed in horror at what was happening to her.

And the thought of leaving her there scarred Lune’s heart afresh.

Kill Vorvian. Save Morgan. The fucking demon was right. He couldn’t do both. And the twin hooks of duty and heartache jabbed deep into his lost soulflesh and tore it in two.

He slumped to his knees, his glory draining away in a glimmering blue flood. His wings dragged in the dust. He lifted his face to heaven, and squeezed stinging eyes shut, his anguish screaming out like an accusation.
I can’t do this! I can’t let her die. Sweet heaven, why do you hate me so much? Why give me a heart and then curse me for loving her?

No stars. No warmth. No glory.

Only silence.

Despair ripped him raw. Every second he wasted, Vorvian slipped further from his grasp. He didn’t care. He blinked away moonlight’s shimmering glare.
You win, okay? I’m already in hell. Just tell me this is right. Please. Tell me what to do.

But the cold breeze of holy displeasure slapped damp hair from his cheeks, and the fire in his sword sputtered and dimmed.

Because he’d already decided what to do.

And if it meant his soul was damned, then fuck them all and so be it. He’d accept his fate. They might own his soul, but they couldn’t own his heart. He’d already given it to Morgan. And what good was his soul, without his heart?

Cold resolve sparked his nerves taut, and he vaulted to his feet and dived for her.

The blue-eyed zombie squealed and fell when Lune crashed into it. Its skull smacked the concrete, brains bleeding out, and it thrashed like a beached fish. The other zombies snarled and snapped, but Lune flung them off in a hail of blood and scooped Morgan into his arms.

His dull iron sword hit the dirt as he cradled her against his chest. Her t-shirt was torn away, her feet bare, her jeans peeled down to her knees. Her panties were gone. He tried to pull her jeans up, to cover her, but his hands shook. She was so vulnerable. So fragile. And he’d let Vorvian have her. Heaven, he’d practically given her to the demon himself.

A scream welled up, and deep inside in the dark empty space where his frosty angelic soul once lived, some twisted creature spat black sparks of shame and vengeance. Screw heaven. He didn’t need their blessing. If he accomplished only one thing
before the world burned, he’d track Vorvian down and rip the evil scumsucker’s skin from his body. But not now. Not while Morgan suffered.

“Morgan. Love. Talk to me. Please.” Bite marks pierced her skin, deep in her upper arms where the flesh was soft. Filth smeared her throat, her belly, between her thighs, and Lune’s stomach clenched. Fuck, if that rotting thing had…

She thrashed, senseless, sweat pouring. She was burning up. He wiped stained hair from her cheek, and the touch hissed, threatening, stinging his fingertips.

His guts clenched. Already, the demon’s curse made her reject his touch. A few minutes more, and he’d have burned her to the bone.

The zombies advanced, decaying lips twisted in anger. Lune warded them off with a snarled curse, setting their hair alight. At least that still worked. “Morgan. Wake up.” He kissed her burning forehead. She tasted salty, of sweat and dead filth. He didn’t care. He kissed her bloody lips, searching, desperate for that spark of life.

“Mmmn.” The cursed part of Morgan murmured, licking her lips hungrily. But still her body struggled to be free.

He wrapped his wings around her, begging her silently to wake. “Morgan. It’s me, Lune. Can you talk?”

Her eyes flickered open. Scarlet horror swirled, and she clutched him weakly with bleeding fingers. “Lune? Oh, God. Help me. I can’t…uhh…” And her eyes rolled back, syllables blurring into senseless animal noises as Vorvian’s curse dragged her under again.

Lune choked on a howl. She was still there. Barely holding on. Rage and sorrow flamed his feathers with lust for revenge, but somehow an anguished cry to heaven still screamed from his heart.

Please, if you’re still listening. Help me. Don’t let her leave me now.

Silence rang, cold and empty. And still Morgan muttered, feverish, tossing her head from side to side.

So be it.

Lune wrapped his wings tight, his cheek resting on top of her head, and flashed out.

Strong arms wrapped Morgan’s body in the hot scent of angel feathers, and as if climbing from the depths of a dark, stinking pit, she fought awake.

Soft light stung her eyes raw. Hardwood floor, pale walls, gleaming glass. Soft cushions crushed beneath her. She heaved in a fire-spiked breath. God, it was so hot. She was burning up. The air scorched her throat, sandpapered her eyes, drained her muscles to water. Her pulse thudded in her skull, too rapid, and she tasted blood. Her stomach cramped with nausea, and something hot and slimy coiled there like a hungry worm. She needed to throw up, pee, cry her heart out.

“Morgan, stay with me.” His voice echoed, from a distance, like her ears were stuffed with water. But the soulful vibration stroked her with gladness. Lune. Her angel. This was his apartment, where they’d…almost made love. It seemed so long ago. But he’d come for her. Hadn’t let her die. Hadn’t let the demon steal her soul, and secret sunlight shone on her heart.

She ripped her sticky lips apart, trying to tell him everything was okay. His delightful scent drifted into her mouth, washing away the grime. Her fevered body heated more. He always smelled so nice. So…tasty.

Hunger whispered hot seduction in her belly. She licked her lips, inhaling again. Mmm. So delicious. His skin’s warm clean flavor, hot blood pulsing beneath. She wanted to lick him, tongue his fragrant essence into her mouth and swallow.

Her mouth watered, drooling. How good that skin would feel in her mouth. Between her teeth, crushing, the thin membrane popping and his salty hot flavor bursting down her throat…