Cleopatra's Return: A Paranormal/Vampire Romance (17 page)

Thaddeus
, though, had made up his mind. “I think it is a fitting punishment, seeing as how my dereliction is why Cleopatra is caught in Limbo in the first place.” Thaddeus, to his credit, didn’t flinch as Lucifer stalked around him, sniffing and eyeing him like a choice piece of meat.

“I accept.” Suddenly a contract appeared
in Lucifer’s hands, along with a plumed pen.

Michael
snatched it and scanned the document quickly. Well-versed in Satan’s methods, he looked for a flaw in the wording, but the contract, for once, was clear without the usual double talk. In a nutshell, upon his death, good deeds or not, his loyal Lycan minion would go to Hell and serve for a period of two hundred years in whatever capacity Lucifer chose.

Not happy with it, but knowing he had little choice if he were to save Cleo, Michael signed his name with a flourish
, followed by Thaddeus.

In a blink
of an eye, the contract disappeared. Lucifer rubbed his hands together. “Splendid doing business. Are you all ready to go, or would you like to put some clothes on first? I hear Limbo’s quite chilly. Not to mention, the rescue of a damsel should have some kind of finesse.”

Hating to delay, but not keen on performing a rescue mission in thin track pants
, both Michael and Julius quickly hit their rooms to dress. Michael quickly donned comfortable black jeans, a long-sleeved, cable-knit sweater in dark gray, and laced black boots. He also added a long leather duster to his outfit—just in case Cleo needed it—before he rejoined the party in his living room.

The
Lycans, bearing uncertain expressions, still ringed Lucifer, who stood smiling benignly while puffing smoke out of his nose. Show off.

At their return
, Lucifer’s mien turned serious, and he addressed Michael in a low tone. “Be careful, old friend. Limbo is a place of shadows and echoes of both the past and future. Tread with care.”

Warning given,
Satan stepped away, and his trademark grin flashed. With a flourish of his arms and a coiling of power that tickled along Michael’s exposed skin, a portal appeared in the room, a sucking black maw that made Michael think of a galactic black hole.

Here’s to hoping we
succeed and return.

“Shit.”
Michael whirled to face Lucifer. “You will hold the portal open until our return?” Michael cursed his stupidity in not making this point clear in the contract, his turmoil over Cleo’s abduction making him stupid.

“I can’t keep it open that long. But because of our friendship, I will open the portal every hour
for the next four hours. It’s the most I can do. A portal to a domain not my own is taxing on my strength. So mark the landmarks well when you enter and don’t tarry.”

Michael didn’t need to hear the
“or else” to understand if they didn’t hustle and get Cleo back to the portal they could end up stuck there.

So long as I find her, I don’t care. At least we’ll be together.

Julius and Thaddeus fell into line behind Michael as he stepped from his living room in to portal which would take them to the chilling grayness of Limbo. The plane of lost and hiding souls. A place from which no one ever supposedly returned. Until now. Michael intended to be the first.
I always did like a challenge.

Regaining
consciousness sucked, especially with a body on fire with pain.

Big ouch.

But the joke was on her captor because she could handle it. After all, once a gal had survived tortured by the best in Hell, a working over by demons paled in comparison. Not to mention, her more-than-human state of being seemed to come with a nifty ability to heal faster than usual. Already, some her bruising had achieved that lovely green-yellow state instead of the fresh purple-blue.

However, it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
Using the knowledge she’d gained over time, Cleo shoved the agony simple movement caused into a little box in her mind and locked it away. It didn’t make it all disappear, but it allowed her to focus on something other than the urge to scream and beg for some morphine—or really good weed. First rule of being a badass queen,
never show weakness.

One problem taken care, time for the next.
Where am I?

She peered around her, not recog
nizing a single thing. She appeared to be on a featureless gray plain bereft of vegetation, habitation, and no signs of life, at all. Peeking at the sky, she noted nothing. No clouds, sun, moon, stars, just more of the boring gray.

Hmm, gray and cold, not Hell or Heaven
, and this definitely doesn’t look like earth.
Had Marc managed to take her to the moon? Not that it mattered. Despite where he’d taken her, once she freed herself, she’d find a way to escape.

One thing she
did recognize was the device that held her, out of place in this wasteland. More commonly known as the rack, they were quite commonly used in the Middle Ages to attach prisoners spread-eagle, making it impossible for victims to move while they were tortured. That she hung on one was not reassuring, especially when Marc Antony appeared wearing only leather pants, his hairy barrel chest bare.

From experience, she knew th
is was his mode of dress for when he planned a bloody torture. When she’d asked him once why, she’d assumed his answer would be to keep his clothes clean, but no, the sick bastard said he enjoyed the feel of the warm blood spraying his skin. He believed it granted him some of his victim’s strength. Sanity was not one of Marc’s strong suits.

Chin held high, and hopefully disdain in her gaze,
Cleo didn’t show him her fear. She refused to give him the satisfaction, especially knowing how it excited him. Instead, she smiled at him cockily. Perhaps if she antagonized him enough, he would kill her quickly. That was if she was capable of dying. Lucifer had never outlined what her restrictions and capabilities were when he’d thrown her out of Hades.

Nothing like the present to get the ball rolling.
“Well, isn’t that just like you to have to tie up a woman so you can get some action? You know, they have something called Viagra in this time for puny-dicked men like yourself who have problems getting it up.”

Score!

His meaty fist flew and landed with a cracking blow. Her head snapped to the side, and she blinked at the black spots that danced in front of her eyes. She worked her jaw and turned back to face him with a smile.

“
Aren’t you a big man, hitting a woman while she’s tied? Why don’t you let me down and try that again?”

Unfortunately, he didn’t fall for that. He did
, however, chuckle, an evil sound that actually made her shiver. Not replying to her taunt, a shame because she had more stored up, he instead walked away to a ring of stones she’d not noticed before. Probably because they were as boring as the rest of this place.

Round and in varying shapes, they formed an irregular circle that didn’t seem to serve a purpose.
Until Marc snapped his fingers and flames rose from the midst of them. Like the rest of this place, the fire proved dull colored—weak yellows, washed-out orange, and reds bordered with black. Yanking something from his pocket, not anything large given the tightness, he threw whatever he withdrew into the fire. Crane as she might, with his broad back blocking her view, she couldn’t see what it was, or what he did after, but she could have sworn she heard him mumbling.

Being ignored wasn’t on her to
-do list, not to mention whatever had him so intent really called for some distraction.

“Yoo hoo. Psycho dude in the retro leather pants. I’m over here,” she crooned.

Nothing.

“What’s a girl got to do for some attention around here?”

Still nothing.

Annoyed, and with trepidation trying to screw with her courage, she hummed, off key. It didn’t make the situation better
, but she knew it irritated the hell out of him.

After a while,
Marc turned around, and her eyes widened. Uh oh. The glowing red brand he held in his hand? Not a good sign.

That’s going to leave a mark
.

She hated the fear
that tightened her stomach into a knot. She hated even more the cold sweat that broke out all over her body, a visual indicator Marc noticed.

“Not so cocky anymore
, are you, bitch?” Marc’s free hand dropped to his pants, and he rubbed the growing bulge.

Cleo made a moue of distaste but said nothing, her eyes hypnotized by the approaching
heated poker, the brightest thing in sight in this gloomy place.

“Where shall I mark you?” Marc mused. “Your breasts?” He tore the fabric from her upper torso
, baring her. The cool air made her nipples tighten. Marc licked his lips. “Maybe I should brand your cunt?” Again he ripped clothing from her, or tried to.  Her tracks pants stretched and bagged the more he tugged.

Furious, Marc threw the branding rod to the ground and
, with two hands, removed her bottoms and threw them in the fire. He snatched back up his rod—the metal and not real one—and jabbed it at her stomach.

She braced for the searing pain, but while hot, the brand wasn’t heated enough to burn any more after Marc’s delaying tactics. “Ooh, that feels good
. Do it again.” Cleo laughed, somewhat hysterically, knowing it would drive Marc nuts. After all, what did she have to lose?

In a snit, Marc
stalked back the fire pit and heated the poker again. Cleo tugged at the chains that held her attached to the rack. She really didn’t hold out much hope for escape. She just prayed she didn’t disgrace herself screaming if the pain became too great. She didn’t want to give the bastard the satisfaction.

“So where are we?” she called out
, trying to stall for time, not that she saw it doing her any good.

“Welcome to Limbo,” he said
, not turning around.

“Limbo
? How did you manage to finagle a way here?”

Mark answered her as he stalked back
, holding the brand which glowed ominously. “I didn’t find a way. The way found me. Someone made me an offer I couldn’t refuse and gave me everything I needed to complete my revenge.” The gleam in his eyes was maniacal, and Cleo thrashed anew at her restraints. She even prayed to the one being she trusted.

Oh
, Michael, I know it’s stupid to wish for this, but if only you could find me and save me like a medieval knight of old.

But she was too old to believe in happy endings. No one had ever saved her in the past. Why should she expect it now?

Because he came when I most needed him once before.

However that was on earth, in his world. Here, there was nothing.
Nothing but certain pain. And, if she was lucky, a quick death.

The portal
Lucifer opened to Limbo spat Michael out, but he didn’t stagger. Feet planted, brow knit, he glanced around taking stock. Not that there was much to see. Limbo stretched all around, barren and gray, desolate and lifeless.

And I’m supposed to find Cleo within a few hours and bring her back?

Despair touched him with icy fingers, and the futility of their mission sank his spirits. But only for a moment because it wasn’t like him to give up so easily.

I won’t give up. Cleo is here, and I will find her.

Shaking his head, Michael shook off the mental lapse caused by Limbo itself, almost like a spell, one that touched the spirit. He warned the others. “Don’t let the atmosphere of this place fuck with your minds. We will prevail.”

Julius still looked doubtful, but Thaddeus, not one to care about odds
, smiled at him, easily repelling the depressing pall that tried to sink them before they began. “Of course we will. And kick ass while doing it.”

Damned straight they would.
The one who took his beloved would pay—in blood.

The site where the portal
spilled them proved empty of landmarks. Unacceptable, because if they were to find their way back and escape they needed to return to this exact location. Sizing up the situation, Thaddeus, an intelligent man, kicked off his boots and left them in a pile in front of the portal location. On top of them he placed his clothing as well before he shifted into a huge white wolf.

“Good thinking,
” said Michael. One problem resolved, he turned his attention to the next—locating Cleo. Closing his eyes, he tried to concentrate on his link with her. He sensed her, but only faintly.

Come on, little goddess, where are you?

She didn’t reply, which meant he’d have to try harder. Gathering his focus, he tried to sense a direction. On his heel he spun, using his body as a dowsing rod. The vibes in this place, though, messed with his abilities. He rotated several times before he finally had to admit he couldn’t find her this way.

“I don’t suppose you can sense which direction she’s in?” he asked Julius hopefully. Julius
, who’d not bitten Cleo, shook his head, his eyes shadowed as he fought against the pall that tugged on him. Thaddeus, however, raised his nose and sniffed. With a yip, he bounded off across the featureless plain, leading them into the wasteland.