The Last of the Red-Hot Vampires (10 page)

We were falling, sinking, spinning, our insides churning outward in a soul-rending process that sank us deep into a horrible miasma of pain and nausea. Just when I thought I was going to pass out or die (I wasn't sure which, and at that point, didn't really care), the horror ended and I dropped to a yielding, warm surface.

“Ow!” grunted the surface.

I pushed myself off, apologizing under my breath to Theo. “Sorry about that. Did I hurt you? What just happened? Who is that horrible man? How did he come through the wall? And just where the blistering inferno are we?”

“Ah. There you are. You may leave, Digan.”

I was insanely glad that Theo made me put my bathrobe on. The man who had spoken strolled into view as we got to our feet. My jaw just about hit my feet at the sight of him—he was one of the most beautiful men who'd ever walked the earth. Theo was handsome—almost too handsome, with his dark, brooding looks that seemed to do odd things to my stomach—but this man was astoundingly, breathtakingly beautiful. Dark blond, curly hair framed a face that was almost feminine, with high cheekbones, sculpted honey blond eyebrows, startlingly blue eyes, and full lips that quirked as I gawked.

“You like this form?” the man asked, doing a little twirl for me. The rest of him was just as impressive as his face, but as he came closer, my skin crawled. His hair suddenly turned dark, straightened, and grew about a foot. His brow broadened, his eyes narrowed slightly, and his jaw became more pronounced as his entire face morphed into that of another equally beautiful man. “Or perhaps you like this one better?”

Theo's arm slid around my waist. I leaned into him, pulling comfort from the contact. I didn't know who the morphing man in front of us was, but I didn't like him.

“No? You prefer redheads?”

He changed again, this time into a freckled, red-haired man with an angular jaw and glittering grey eyes.

Theo's arm tightened around me. “You are Bael, I presume?”

My eyes widened. This beautiful man was a demon lord, the first prince of Abaddon?

“I have that honor.” The man bowed politely at Theo, then turned to me and laughed at what was probably a horrified expression on my face. “Since you have no preference, my dear, I shall go back to my normal Tuesday form.”

He shifted back to the blond Adonis with no visible effort, turning to a large desk that sat behind him. I looked quickly around us. “This is hell?” I asked Theo in a whisper. “I expected something along the lines of pits of fire and a hail of brimstone.”

“I detest the smell of brimstone,” Bael said, pulling a sheet of paper from his desk and glancing over it. “And pits of fire make the fax machine act up. Ah, yes, the matter of the demon Nefere.”

We appeared to be in the office of an affluent businessman, the standard desk with computer, phone, and assorted office-type items behind the demon lord. A comfy suede couch sat on one side of the room, while on the other a glass table held a magnificent floral bouquet. It was everything one did not expect to find as the headquarters of the most powerful being in hell.

Not that I believed in hell…or at least I didn't before I found myself standing before the head honcho.

“It seems that you destroyed the mortal form of my demon, Nefere,” Bael said, giving me a smile that raised goose bumps on my arms. I looked away from him, unable to look into his eyes.

He propped himself up on the edge of the desk, waving us to a couple of chairs that sat before it. “Please, be comfortable.”

I leaned harder into Theo, not wanting to get anywhere near the beautiful, evil man.

“We prefer to stand,” Theo answered. “I admit to destroying the demon's form, but will point out that I did not summon it, and thus I can't be held responsible for the destruction.”

“The one who summoned Nefere has nothing to do with this situation.” Bael frowned and looked at the paper again before setting it aside. “I understood that the virtue named Portia Harding destroyed my demon's form?”

“I didn't mean to destroy him,” I said quickly, earning myself a sharp squeeze from Theo. Obviously he was trying to shift the blame to himself, but I couldn't allow him to do that. “Hang on now! I am new to this whole virtue thing, and didn't know how to control the power. I will do better next time, I'm sure.”

“I am Portia's champion. I urged her to destroy the demon, therefore the blame is mine. Although I deny your right to punish either of us, if there is to be punitive action, I must insist that it be dealt according to precedence.” Theo held Bael's gaze steadily, not shying away from that dread gaze at all.

“You wish to martyr yourself for the lady, eh? I admit it is tempting to punish a virtue,” Bael said, tapping a finger to his chin while he eyed me. I couldn't keep from fidgeting slightly. “It has been many centuries since I have had the opportunity to do so. However, current politics makes me hesitate to strike a blow against a denizen of the Court, thus I will accept your petition and recognize you as champion.”

The muscles in Theo's arm, which had been as tight as steel, relaxed. I had no idea why he thought it was a good thing that he be punished in my place, but I wasn't about to debate the point. “You both assume too much. I am wholly responsible for my actions, and if there is to be punishment, I will be the only one to incur it,” I said firmly, looking at a spot just beyond Bael's head.

“Don't be ridiculous, Portia,” Theo growled in my ear. “You are mortal still. Punishment could kill you. I am immortal. There isn't much he can do to me.”

“If his punishment isn't that bad, then I can take it,” I argued back in a whisper.

“I didn't say it won't be bad. He can't kill me without violating terms of the peace treaty between the Court and Abaddon. Let me do this—it's part of my job.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Bael interrupted.

“The point is moot, virtue. Your champion has been recognized as your official representative, and to him the punishment will be dealt.” Bael walked toward us, sketching a symbol in the air that glowed sickly black. “Now, how shall I punish you? Taking a few years of your life are no use—you will not miss a few years in the several thousand you will live. Physical pain, perhaps? A good old-fashioned medieval torturefest?”

I shuddered and grabbed the hand that held my waist. Next to me, Theo stood silent and still.

“No, I think that would be almost as ineffective, albeit amusing at the time.” Bael's eyes narrowed. “Nephilim are notoriously hard to punish, since their very lives are penance for the sins of their fathers. Hmm. Perhaps I could simply wipe away your memory?”

“You do, and you'll have to answer to me,” I said, driven to an unreasonable outspokenness by my irritation with my own fear of Bael. I've never been afraid of anything before, and it galled me to find myself almost sick with terror.

He ignored my outburst as if it wasn't worthy of his attention. “You know, really, it's a shame nephilim are protected under the treaty. We have need of your kind in Abaddon.”

Theo looked utterly bored. I wanted to cheer at such a brave act in the face of the bad-ass demon lord. “Punish me, if you will, but make it quick. We were pleasantly engaged when your demon fetched us.”

“Full points for such eloquent acting,” Bael said, laughing, but the amusement didn't reach his eyes. They were flat, glittering, brittle blue lights, absolutely devoid of all emotions. I shivered in response, wanting desperately to be away from him. He didn't make any overtly menacing moves, but there was something around him, an aura of peril that made my flight instincts kick in.

Bael's cold gaze flickered to me. “It would be so much more fun with just the lady…ah, well. Another time, perhaps?”

“I would just about give anything to make sure that doesn't happen,” I said, my mouth suddenly dry.

He smiled, but said nothing before turning back to Theo. “As for you—I believe I have a solution to my quandary. It is a bit extreme, but then, I've found that people learn so much better if the punishment is suitably harsh.”

Theo's body tensed next to me as Bael put his hand on Theo's forehead, leaning close to say in a voice filled with so much evil portent that I had to put my hand over my mouth to keep from vomiting, “I curse thee, Theondre North. As you spend the centuries alone, shunned, and empty, remember me.”

A golden light burst forth from Theo, surrounding us until it blinded me. Theo was wrenched from my side with such force that I fell to my knees. The light was all around us, brilliant, warm, and so wonderful, I wanted to weep with joy at it.

“Theo? Are you all—”

A man screamed at that moment, a hoarse, gut-ripping sound that seemed to come from the soul. I knew it was Theo. I thrashed my arms around, desperate to find him in the blinding light. “Stop hurting him!” I shouted into the light, lunging to the side where Theo had stood. The light disappeared, leaving me unable to see.

“You are dismissed,” a harsh voice growled behind me. Before I could turn around to see who it was, I was picked up and thrown into a brick wall. At least that's what it felt like, but as I shook the stars from my head and raised myself up off the ground, I realized that the demon who had yanked us from my hotel room through the tear in the wall had evidently returned us the same way.

Vision slowly returned to me. “Theo! Sweet mother of reason, are you all right?” I crawled over to where Theo lay facedown on the floor next to my bed. “Where did he hurt you? Is anything broken? Are you bleeding?”

Carefully, I pushed over Theo's unresisting body until he lay on his back. I quickly checked him over for injuries, but found none. “Theo? I can't find anything wrong with you. What did the demon lord do?”

“I'm all right.” His eyes opened slowly.

I sucked in my breath, unable to believe what I was seeing. “Your eyes…they're grey.”

Theo frowned. “Pardon?”

“Your eyes are grey. They aren't black anymore. Here, I'll show you.” I helped him to his feet and opened the door to the wardrobe so he could see. He stared at himself for a moment, then turned back to me, despair and anguish welling up inside him.

“Salus invenitur,”
he swore.

“Latin was never my strong point. What exactly does that mean?”

“Salvation is found.”

I raised my eyebrows in question.

A mirthless smile graced his lips. “It's the nephilim's equivalent to a self-depreciating ‘fuck me!'”

“Ah. I like your version better. Why did Bael change your eyes?”

His jaw tightened. “That is merely a side effect of the curse.”

“I heard him say he was cursing you,” I said slowly, watching him carefully. So far he seemed perfectly normal, except for the profound sadness that seemed to leach from within him. “But I don't quite understand what happened. What exactly are you cursed with?”

To my amazement, Theo's eyes grew brighter until they were almost white. “He took my soul.”

“He
what
?”

“That light you saw—that was my soul being ripped from my body,” Theo said, his face flushed with fury. “The bastard took my soul and left me an empty shell.”

“Sweet mother,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around him, holding him tight against the sorrow and anger and frustration that filled him. The pain eased a little. I poured into him every molecule of comfort I possessed. “I'm so sorry. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am that you got involved in this. I will feel guilty for the rest of my life.”

“It's not your fault, sweetling,” he murmured, nuzzling my neck. His anger and anguish melted away even more, and something hot and potent filled him instead. “I knew the risk when I offered myself as your champion.
Di immortales,
you smell good.”

A little shiver of excitement skittered down my back as he kissed the hollow behind my ear. “Yes, but if I hadn't been so stupid about believing you, none of this would have happened. I would have been paying attention rather than fighting you every step of the way.”

“Mmm. You smell sweet and spicy, like a woman waiting to be satisfied.” He pulled back enough to look into my eyes, which were brimming with tears of guilt. “Portia, I forbid you to feel guilt at what happened. There was no avoiding this. Bael cannot punish you without bringing the wrath of the Court down upon your head, and he would not risk such an action.”

“Your eyes are almost black again. That doesn't make any sense. How can eye color change? Never mind, it's not important. What is important is the fact that you've lost your soul because of me.”

He laughed and nipped my earlobe, his hands roaming over my back and behind. “You never cease to amaze me. I'm surprised that given your skeptical nature and scientific training, you believe in souls.”

“I'm agnostic, not a solipsist,” I said, a familiar tension building within me at every nibble of his teeth, every touch of his hands. “Logic dictates that if there is a way for your soul to be taken from you, there must be a way to return it. I swear to you now that if it's the last thing I do, I will get you back your soul.”

“Smart, sexy, and so delicious,” he murmured against my shoulder as my bathrobe parted and slipped down my arms. “I hunger for you, sweetling. Tell me you still want me.”

He was hungry. It was growing in him, an unnamed hunger for me, for something that only I could give him. It swelled and spilled out until I shared the hunger, shared the need for physical relief. I ripped his shirt off, heedless of the fact that I was destroying an otherwise nice shirt, rubbing my hands on his chest as he sucked the spot behind my ear that made me see stars.

“Theo, I hate to bring reality into…oh, yes, right there…but I don't have any condoms. I'm all right as far as birth control goes, but do you have any health issues I should be aware of?”