Revelation (40 page)

“You’re too late, Lune! She’s already mine.” Vorvian’s smashed jawbone smoothed over and healed, and he waved his arms delightedly. “Wow, is this déjà vu, or what?”

Molten fury lit Lune’s muscles. He wanted to chew the fucker’s eyeballs out. But it didn’t matter. “Morgan, wake up.” He kissed her lips, and it burned. Delirious, she snapped at him, her teeth sinking into his lip. His blood scorched her, and she screamed, smoke bubbling from her tongue.

Lune shuddered, lost. He wanted to howl, thrash his wings to the sky, scream out his agony to heaven and curse them forever.

Vorvian giggled. “She’s under, angel. She can’t hear you. And even if she could, do you think she’d choose you over her heart’s desire? Happiness? A cure for the virus? I think not.”

“She’s just one woman. One soul! You don’t care about her! Let her go. Please. I’m begging you.”

Vorvian crouched, laying a slim hand on his shoulder. It singed, glory on hellspell. “I’d love to accommodate you, old friend. Truly I would. But that’d be treason, wouldn’t it? Azaroth would kick my ass. I mean, really? Giving souls away for free? The Apocalypse isn’t a charity event.”

The demon’s ashen stink made him retch. But Morgan squirmed in his arms, moaning with hunger, her eyes rolling back to whites.

Lune clutched her tighter, savagely blinking his eyes clear. He wouldn’t let her go. Wouldn’t let her touch the monster. “No. Stay away. You’ll have to kill me first.”

Vorvian laughed, but his gaze was grave. “You’re a bit slow, Lune, old buddy. Do you really think it’s just your
death
I want?”

Oh, shit.

Heavensense dazzled him, a screaming warning from above not to go there, and the glory in his blood shuddered, squirming, trying to escape its fate.

But his nerves fired hot with eight hundred years of rage and disobedience, and his love for this amazing woman forged his heart bright like fresh steel.

He looked up, straight into the demon prince’s eyes, and the blazing glare of his conviction singed Vorvian’s snowy hair black. “I can’t give you my soul. Heaven took it from me. It’s not mine anymore.”

Vorvian pursed his lips, ready to curse or laugh or deny.

Lune let his smile glow, one last glory-rich seduction, and feral promise edged his tone sharp. “But I can make them give it to you.”

Vorvian licked sharp teeth in anticipation, and Lune’s guts stabbed cold with the looming wrath of heaven.

But he ignored it, defiant.
This is mine. It’s all I’ve got left to give her. Back the fuck off.

And the glory sizzled, and vanished, leaving only a chilly void.

Vorvian sighed, and drooled, spit shining on his chin. “Oh, my. Now, my friend, you’re talking business. Let’s do it.”

Shaking, Lune planted one last kiss on Morgan’s bruised lips. The touch didn’t burn. Already, hellfire threatened in his bones.
I love you, Morgan. Forgive me.

And he laid her down, smoothing her hair, and knelt in the dirt at Vorvian’s feet.

“I—” His voice shook, but he forced it calm, placed his hand over his heart for steadiness. “I give you everything that I am. Your master is my master. I will slaughter your enemies. I will aid your friends. I will curse heaven’s children wherever I find them, and every soul I meet, I will lead to your door. I will spend my eternity as an angel of hell, and when the Lord of Lies returns to reign over the earth, I will worship him.”

Above, the swirling breeze stilled, and clouds drifted in
front of the sun. On the ground, Lune’s discarded sword glimmered, one last flash of heavenblue fire, and its light died.

Vorvian drew in a ragged breath, sweating with desire, triumph afire on his face. “Say it, Luniel. Say the last bit. I’m waiting.”

Lune’s throat parched, his voice cracking dry. “I surrender, hellscum. Now let her go.”

Through a hot black fog of despair, Luniel’s words soaked into Morgan’s ears, and some tiny speck of sense left inside her screamed and shuddered in brute denial.

He’d already killed himself for her. But this was worse. Oblivion was one thing. Eternity as a demon’s slave…

Well, that just wasn’t worth it.

Vorvian’s temptation kissed her like a lover’s sweet lips, tormenting all her secret places with promises of fulfillment, release, pleasure. His slimy-hot parasite munched cruel teeth into her soul, and dragged it out like a skewered oyster from its shell.

She squirmed, but couldn’t break free.
Never mind your angel. He doesn’t love you. Heaven doesn’t love you. Only I love you. Only I’m willing to give you what you want, what you deserve. Doesn’t that prove it?

But Lune’s sacrifice overflowed her heart, and shame and sorrow stung her lungs like poison. Her flesh cried out in denial, her skin aflame with all the horrid things she’d said to him.

Faith is for fools
, she’d said. But Lune hadn’t lied. Hadn’t tricked her. Hell and heaven were real. He was real. He’d meant every blessed word he said.

Including
I love you
.

She couldn’t let him crush his soul to ash for her. He was too precious, too desperately human. His words flowed back to her, drenched with pain and desperate empathy she’d been too afraid to embrace.
I’ll always fight for you. I’ll never lie to hurt you. Let me be what you need.

Heaven was a weird and wonderful thing. She didn’t understand it, and she still wasn’t sure she trusted it. But she didn’t have to believe in heaven to believe in
him
.

Lune, don’t give up on me. Let me be what you need.

Fresh ferocity ignited in her veins, a shimmering reflection of heaven’s glory, and she spat and cursed and fought harder.
Let me go, demon. Take your lies and be gone. I don’t believe in them, and I don’t believe you.

Vorvian’s greasy parasite wailed and gnashed its teeth, thwarted. She grabbed it, and twisted.

Bone snapped. Agony ripped through her, a burning flash of hell-streaked lightning. And dazzling heavenlight poured over her, filling the cold empty wounds in her soul.

She strained towards the light with all her strength, and with a discordant crash Vorvian’s spell broke, and she tumbled back into the real world.

She blinked, and scrambled up on scorched legs. Lune was on his knees, wings stretched back in supplication. His sword tumbled dull in the dirt. He bowed his head, and wet black hair hid his face.

Before him stood Vorvian, gloating. “Well, angeldirt, that’s quite an offer. I especially like the part about
surrender
. Can you say that part ag—”

“Accept or no, demon.” Lune’s voice rang harsh, empty. “I haven’t got all day.”

Vorvian smiled, satanic, and licked his lips to answer.

No.
Morgan’s flesh crept cold in denial.
He’s mine. You can’t have him. Not when we’ve just begun.

And she sprinted, her thighs aching with fatigue, and dived for Lune’s sword.

The iron stung cold in her hands. She fell, and the blade sliced her cheek, grit grinding into her shoulder. She didn’t care. She scrabbled to her feet, grabbing the worn steel grip.
He doesn’t deserve this dark eternity. Not because of me. Heaven, help me save your child.

Ozone stung her nose fresh. Energy struck her from above, like uncanny lightning through her veins, and she whirled and stabbed for Vorvian’s heart.

Flesh sliced, the magic-sharp blade sinking deep, effortless. Blood bubbled black.

Vorvian’s eyes flashed glassy white. He grabbed the blade in two hands and twisted it, yanking her closer, and laughed, spitting stinking ash. “You can’t kill me, Doctor. Not with this. You don’t believe in heaven, remember?”

Her teeth gritted tight with the effort, and she drove the blade in harder, up to the hilt. “Maybe not. But I believe in
him
.”

And the blade dazzled with angry blue light, and with a
crack of thunder that split the sky, Vorvian’s body exploded in flame.

His dirty white hair caught fire. His flesh seared away to bone. His eyeballs melted, and he screamed, a horrible curse-laden hellshriek that ripped her ears raw. His body fell, disintegrating around the blazing sword, and crumbled to ash.

The shock wave shook the earth, knocking Morgan to her knees. The sword tore from her grip. Wind stung her eyes, swirling her hair. Around her, zombies howled and fell in the thousands, moaning and thrashing in a mass seizure of death.

Lune yelled her name. Blindly she crawled towards the sound. Her limbs ached, energy leaking, the strange flame in her veins sputtering out. The wind flapped, and died, and the shrieks faded to eerie silence.

She struggled to her feet, blinking. The place was littered with bodies. Unmoving. Silent. Already, the stink of decomposition soured the air. All dead, the life sucked out of them by Vorvian’s dying curse.

Morgan’s throat swelled. But she couldn’t turn away. The bodies were everywhere. The city would have to incinerate them, she noted clinically. Far too many to bury. And all that rotting flesh would only harbor more disease…

Luniel touched her shoulder, warm. “Morgan. Don’t.”

The sight of him alive, luminous, his black wings coated in dust, misted her eyes with tears. “They’re all dead. I could have…” Her voice crumpled like tinfoil. “They could have lived. He promised me. If I’d just…”

If I’d only given you up for lost.

But even as she spoke, she knew it wasn’t true.

“No, they couldn’t.” Lune’s gaze shone steadfast. “Demons lie. His promises were false and twisted. And these people were far gone, Morgan. You saw them. Their bodies were wrecked. There’s no cure for that.”

Morgan’s lip trembled as she remembered how close she’d come to accepting Vorvian’s offer. “Is he dead?”

Lune nodded, pointing at the ground. A ragged black hole rotted the concrete, where the demon’s essence had been. “Ashes scattered. You won’t see him again.”

“And what about you? Did you…I mean, was I…” Her
mouth was caked with dirt. She couldn’t finish the sentence.
Was I too late? Are you damned?

Lune flexed his fingers, and with a brilliant flash, his sword blazed in his hand. Fresh. Bright. Heavenblue.

Just like his eyes. God, she couldn’t take it when he looked at her like that. So warm, so precious, like he wanted to keep her safe forever. It made her melt. It made her want to run into his embrace…or from it. “Does that mean you’re forgiven?”

He watched the light ripple along the blade, and his little laugh sparkled her skin. “Forgiven? Not likely. Given another chance? For the moment.” His gaze lighted on hers again, warm and certain. “I’d do it again. In an instant. Just so you know.”

She couldn’t speak. Her heart was too full.

He flashed the sword away, and licked his lips, uneasy. “Look, Morgan…”

“It’s okay.” Her stomach crinkled tight. “I know I said horrible things. I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“Forgive you? I should have been honest with you.” He ruffled dust from his feathers, a nervous twitch in glittering sunlight. “So I’m being honest now. Apart from healing your wounds, I only ever spelled you that one time. And I never intended it to go anywhere. But you kissed me, and I…well, I kinda stopped thinking. Everything else…” He flushed. “Well, everything else was just me not knowing what to say. I’m kind of a hands-on thinker. But I never spelled you to touch me, or to feel anything for me. I hope you can believe that.”

“But you can’t prove it.” Morgan twisted her hands, nervous.

“No, I can’t. I’m sorry.” His gaze shadowed, but didn’t drop. Didn’t falter. Didn’t give her a moment’s respite.

Her heart quailed, and her belly filled with the cold-sick cocktail of doubt and fear that had ruled her life for so long. But she swallowed it down, firm, and her heart teetered.

Don’t look down, Morgan. Just jump, and trust you’ll be caught.

She sucked in a deep breath, and dived over the edge. “I believe you.”

Surprise lit his eyes silver. “You do?”

“I should never have doubted you. You’ve done so much to
prove yourself to me, and I threw it back at you because I was afraid.” Her throat cramped, and tears sprang. She wiped them away. “God, I’ve acted like such a princess. I’m not special, Lune. I’m just…me. You shouldn’t have to prove anything to me.”

“Yes, I should.” He drifted closer with that silent, uncanny grace. “I love you, and I’ll spend your life proving it to you. If you’ll let me.”

A warm inner smile lightened her heart. “Could I stop you, angel?”

“Probably not. I’m kinda persistent like that.” He wiped dirty hair from her cheek.

“So I’ve noticed.” Her skin tingled, his touch more compelling than any spell. His wings folded around her, warm and fragrant with his wonderful fresh scent, and she tilted her mouth and closed her eyes and the kiss he planted on her burned with desire and relief and honest passion.

In a second, she was trembling, overcome. His lips caressed hers, thirsty, like he needed to drink from her or die, and she wrapped her wrists around his neck and opened up to him, letting all the doubt and fear and thoughtless untruths drain away. He cupped her butt and lifted her, and she gave a little hop that launched her into the strong cradle of his arms.

White light flashed, and in a dizzy instant she was on her back in soft quilts beneath him. She gasped, laughing into their kiss. “Where are we?”

“Your place.” He nudged her chin up, kissing her throat until she moaned and arched against him in the sultry shadow of his midnight wings. “I thought you could use a shower and a rest. Unless you’d rather do something else.”

She wrapped her fingers in his hair, luxuriating in the rough silkiness. “No way. If I take a shower, angel, you’re taking it with me.”

“Mmm. Behind you, by choice. I heard somewhere that you like that. Promise?” Already he undid her buttons, tugging her dirty jeans off.

She flushed, remembering her fantasy, but it made her hot, too. “Oh, yes.”

“Good. That way I get you twice. Don’t think you’re getting away.” He peeled her shirt—his shirt—over her head and tossed it away.