Sex and the Single Vampire (36 page)

The demon lord gave me a pitying smile. “And so now it begins.”

He turned to Eduardo and started feeding him power.

I opened my hand and stared down at what I held, then threw my handful of bobbles on Asmodeus. “Spirits mine, I Summon you.”

All six ghosts materialized and leaped straight for the demon lord, taking him off guard. He yanked his power from Eduardo to protect himself, which opened Eduardo’s weakened self up to attack by Tirana.

I threw myself at Christian, half knocking him over, half dragging him down to the space between one of the couches and the wall.

I lay panting on him, exhausted, my last shreds of strength worn away, my fingers shaking in his hair. “Christian, quickly, we have little time. We have to Join now while everyone is distracted and weak.”

His dull black eyes stared unblinking at me.

I shook his head. “Come on, snap out of it! We have to do this now, right now! Only Joined together will we have the power to defeat the demon lord.”

His eyes were dead, his flesh cold. I shook him again, sobbing with frustration. I knew the ghosts couldn’t drain enough power from Asmodeus to keep him from us longer than a few seconds.

Please, Christian, please. If you love me, come back to me. We can fight this together, only together, but you have to come back to me. Don’t leave me alone. You promised you wouldn’t leave me!

I felt his mind stirring, but it wasn’t enough. His eyes were still dead, his body unresponsive, his inner self locked in a nightmare that he had permitted in order to save me.

I slapped him as hard as I could, but it did no good. His open eyes didn’t even blink. “I will not let him have you. You’re mine, do you hear me? Mine!”

He lay passive while I kissed him, sobbing into his mouth
as I bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, licking off the hot bead of his blood before I pulled out my silver hatpin and slashed open a wound on my wrist. I held my bloody wrist to his mouth and willed him to drink. Behind me, around me, around us the air was filled with screams as Tirana tried its best to fulfill my command and destroy Eduardo. Shrieks from the ghosts told me that Asmodeus had recovered from the surprise attack and was taking his vengeance on them. I sobbed out a prayer as I held my wrist over Christian’s closed lips, praying for the souls of my spirit friends, praying for Christian to open his mouth, praying for me.

A ruby red drop of my blood welled from the cut and slowly trickled down my wrist, where it hung for a second, swaying gently with the beat of my pulse; then it swelled and fell.

Christian’s lips parted just as it was about to strike his mouth. The drop of blood disappeared into the dark depths within.

The couch was ripped away from the wall and sent flying across the room, where it exploded in a maelstrom of leather and wood. Asmodeus stood above us, his glamour shredded, his true form visible. It was awful, truly horrible to behold, a parody of a human, a twisted frame that once was made up of flesh and bones and now was bound together by misery and hatred, a crown of deceit topping long, grizzled locks that snaked around his twisted body with a life of their own.

“Now you will fulfill your destiny,” the demon lord screamed, reaching for me. The amulet burned bright for a moment, then shattered, falling from my neck. He hauled me forward, his long teeth black with sin as they were bared above my exposed throat. I clutched at the hand that was choking me, but had nowhere near the strength to pry his horrible fingers from my neck.

You certainly do seem to relish dramatic scenes
, a warm, silky voice spoke into the shattered remains of my mind.
We’re going to have to talk about this as well.

In the bathtub?
I asked, wanting to weep and sing at the same time.

As you command.

Asmodeus’s head snapped around as Christian rose to his feet. If I weren’t being held by my throat six inches off the ground, I would have cheered, Christian looked so beautiful. His eyes were a beautiful deep mahogany, licked with gold and glittering brightly as he stalked toward us with an elegant grace that made my heart beat madly. His mind merged with mine and suddenly I had the strength to tear myself away from Asmodeus, my body—our body—filled with power that seemed to flow from our joined souls as we turned toward Asmodeus. His fingers tightened around my throat. I broke his grip, surprised to find that a ring he wore came off in my hand, our power flowing in a sweet rush that gave me the strength to push myself away from the demon lord.

Christian smiled as I took my place next to him, reluctantly pulling himself from my mind.

“I told you she was too strong for you,” he told Asmodeus, taking my hand and giving Tirana a curious glance.

“It was all I could raise,” I explained as Eduardo, the victor in their battle, spun the little demon into the air, its curls spinning madly, lengthening, stretching, reaching out as if they would snare Eduardo. Phillippa lay at Guarda’s feet, unconscious or dead, I wasn’t sure which. Guarda stood with her hands outstretched, her eyes blind as she continued to feed Eduardo her power. I looked on the two of them almost benignly now, secure in the power and strength our Joining had given us. It wouldn’t take much for us to overcome them.

“You overestimate both the woman and yourself,” the
demon lord hissed through broken teeth, drawing my attention back to him. “Better, you underestimate my power.”

With a horrible expression that I was sure was meant to be a smile, he disappeared, just turned to vapor and disappeared before our eyes. Christian sucked in a big breath and closed the two library doors, taking one of the broadswords and sliding it through the handles beneath the doorknobs.

“What are you doing that for?”

“He has summoned his legions.”

I glanced back at the broken triumvirate. Tirana had a grip on Eduardo and was struggling with him. Guarda continued to stand blind, draining herself to feed Eduardo.

Christian plucked the second broadsword from the wall, weighing it in his hand. “Can you take care of them?”

I blinked. “Yeah, no problem. Um, what legions? Why are you standing like that
Highlander
guy in front of the doors? What—”

Something huge crashed into the door, cracking one panel. An unearthly wail rose from outside, a wail that Tirana matched inside the room. I slapped my hands over my ears and watched as Christian braced himself, his sword held in both hands as the doors were battered down before us.

I really was getting tired of demons.

A hand clamped down on my shoulder, yanking me backward as Christian swung at the first demon through the door. Guarda wasn’t blind now, although fury and hate twisted her features until they were almost unrecognizable. She spat out something at me in German, clawing at my hand until I realized she was trying to get Asmodeus’s ring that I still held.

“I’ve had just about enough of you and your obnoxious little gang,” I yelled at her as I pried her fingers off my hand. I stomped down hard on her foot, jerking my hand free, clearing my mind, and preparing to blast Guarda and Eduardo out of the house and down the street.

My brain gave a little whimper and shut down, leaving me standing cold and helpless, without a single wisp of power to aid me.

“Oh, crap,” I said just before Guarda sprang at me. I panicked, leaping aside, almost directly into the path of a demon that was attacking Christian, but stumbled over the carcass of one of its fallen kin, slipping on the slick, black demon blood and falling painfully to my knees. Above me, the broadsword sang as Christian yelled for me to get behind him. A small, particularly ugly demon lunged at me as I scrambled back, for once not about to lecture Christian about his protective nature. Guarda turned from where she was trying to pull Tirana off Eduardo, and threw herself over the body of a demon toward me. I reached for Christian, intent on merging with him to tap into our joined power so I could disable Guarda and Eduardo, but the second my mind merged with his I realized just what Asmodeus had meant.

We have to get out of here
, I yelled into Christian’s head as he gutted an elongated demon with one stroke, decapitating another on the return swing.
You’re almost out of power and I burned up all my circuits. There’s no way we can fight off everyone.

Guarda jumped onto my back, screaming in my ear. I threw myself backward, slamming her into the marble mantelpiece over the fireplace, grabbing one of the daggers and slashing at the arm she held around my throat. She shrieked and released me.

If we leave now, Asmodeus will allow the demons to run
free in London. They will kill and destroy as they hunt us
, Christian said into my mind. I knew he was almost at the end of our Joined strength, knew also that he had been drained of blood earlier, so he was running on empty now. The power I’d felt in our Joining was the last of his reserves, not the glorious, endless wellspring I’d assumed it was.

Tirana flew past me and crashed into a wall, but was instantly on its feet, its curls standing out in a golden halo around its cherub face adorned by a snarling mouth and sharp, pointed teeth. It screamed a warning of vengeance and threw itself back onto Eduardo, knocking Guarda down in the process. I used the moment of respite to consider our options.

Downstairs, the room they built to hold Sebastian. He said it was specially constructed, warded, protected to keep him inside. We can use that as a bunker, turn the wards to protect us.

No. I will not go there again.
He staggered slightly to one side as a demon flung itself at him, shredding his shirt and leaving a trail of blood across his chest.

We have to. It’s that or die here.
I felt his indecision, felt his horror of the place, and knew then that he must have been locked in it during the hours of the day I was dealing with other matters.
I’m sorry, my love, but we have to go there. I need quiet to see what remains of my abilities, to assess the damage, and you need blood.

I kicked at a demon that reached for me, stumbling backward when Christian beat the creature off, then turned and thrust his sword downward, throwing the last of his power into the stroke. The carpet beneath my feet caved in, taking Christian and me with it as we fell to the stone floor below. A startled demon peered down at us from the gaping hole in the library floor.

Quickly, Beloved. This way.

I took the hand Christian offered and allowed him to heft me to my feet. My bad leg buckled under me, but Christian’s hand was strong, his fingers warm around mine as he swung me up onto his shoulder, the broadsword still in his left hand as he kicked debris out of his way and raced for the vault.

Demons poured down into the hole after us, terrible, tortured shrieks following them that told me the demons weren’t too choosy about who they attacked. It was difficult to summon up much pity for any of the triumvirate, so instead I yelled at Christian to go faster, waving my fists at the demons that scrambled after us.

The door to the vault was metal, just as Sebastian had said, inscribed with wards of containment. The wards were broken now, but still etched into the steel, their presence a testament to the pain of the men who had been held inside.

“Can you ward it?” Christian asked, his back to me as he waved the sword at the oncoming demons.

I tried clearing my mind and gathering strength to draw a ward, but there was nothing there. The ward would not draw.

“No,” I cried, sick with the knowledge that I had lost it all, lost all my abilities.

He slashed at the nearest demon, driving it back, then yanked open the door and shoved me inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Is there a lock?” I asked as he threw himself against the door to keep the demons from opening it.

“Not on this side.”

“Poop.”

“A very polite way of expressing it, but certainly appropriate.”

“What are we going to do?”

The sound of a bolt being thrown home outside the door and gales of demonic laughter answered the question.

“It would appear our problem is solved, at least until one of the demons realizes that although we cannot get out, they cannot get in,” Christian observed wryly as he eased himself away from the door, prepared for it to spring open.

It stayed locked.

I looked around the small, lead-lined room and felt the hair on the back of my neck rise. In a corner stood a metal table, confinement straps dangling over the sides. It wasn’t the table that was so horrible; it was the imprinted fear and anger and pain that clung to it that had me clutching Christian.

“Did they do something to you there? Did they torture you there?”

He said nothing but his eyes darkened. I leaned into him, merging my mind with his, reading there all that he had suffered as Eduardo had drained his blood from him, gloating over Christian, taunting him, tormenting him with the knowledge that he could not save me.

But you did
, I told him as I rained kisses down on his face.
You saved us both; I see that now. I didn’t understand at first, but now I know why you gave yourself over to Asmodeus. You knew it was the only way to make him believe I would not sacrifice myself for you.

He stood passive for a moment, taking my love, letting it seep into the parched corners of his soul; then his hands were on me, fitting me tightly against his body, his lips searching out mine as I welcomed him into my body, my heart, my being. His tongue teased mine, tasting me, remembering me, immediately going into an arrogant, ordering-my-tongue-around mode that melted me against him.

“How long do you think they’ll keep us locked in here before they figure it out?” I asked breathlessly.

He started backing me toward the far wall. “Long enough,” he answered, nuzzling my neck. I let my legs go all boneless, running my fingers through his long, silky hair….

“Drat.” I unclenched my hand in order to use both hands on Christian. A small, metallic ping sounded just as I was about to kiss him until his fangs rattled. We both stopped and looked at the gold ring on the floor.