Seal of Surrender (16 page)

Chago stifled a groan as his shattered leg bones reset and shoved words past the bile welling in his throat. His sister-in-law's pregnancy was none of this fucker's business. “Leave. Now.”

“Come, my pet. You've got your own Seal to protect now.” Lucifer's gaze grew hazy, distant. Finger-like tendrils tickled the outskirts of his consciousness, the phantom prints of unwanted intrusion as Lucifer attempted to probe his mind. “Who knew War could be beautiful?”

“Stay away from her, Devil.” Fists clenched against the solid floor, he rebuilt his depleted mental shields high and thick at the cost of precious healing energy.

“
You love her.
”

Chago's heart tripped like a drunken sailor. He didn't love Irena. He didn't love anyone. He longed only for the quiet life of the ranch. Retirement. Alone.

Irena's smiling face flashed in his mind and his resolve disintegrated. Si. He loved her. But to keep her would be insanity. With his affinity for solitude and her penchant for trouble, they'd both end up in a sanitarium.

“Where's my son?”

The abrupt change of topic jarred Chago back to reality. Archon's mangled face replaced Irena's sunny grin and his nausea crested. “We've got the situation under control.”

“Obviously. Look at you.”

Chago flipped him off.

Lucifer chuckled. “Maybe I'll pop by Divinity's and see what the Old Bag's up to.”

An engine roared past the opening overhead and Chago squinted through the increased rain of dust. He turned back to Lucifer, but found him gone. Good riddance.

A car door slammed and Xander's voice echoed down. Help had arrived. He gave a faint yell, the sound muted by his battered lungs and the possible return of the hyena pack.

No response. He tried again, with one arm braced tight around his still splintered ribs. Still nothing.

Head spinning, he crumpled, missing the four heads now visible through the opening above. Desolation overtook him. He would waste away slowly, starvation his only friend as the animals slowly devoured his remains.

Then he heard Irena's voice.

Sunlight glinted off the long strands of white-blond hair dangling through the crevice above and his addled brain refused to separate truth from fiction.

Lucifer's statement echoed in his mind.

You love her
.

Heat burned through his veins, obliterating the underlying fear.

A rope dropped and Xander slithered down. He crouched to run an assessing gaze over Chago's broken form then thumped him on the chest. “Brother, you sure got yourself in a mess this time. Too bad we brought the humans or we'd flash you home.”

Instead, his commander shouted orders for a makeshift stretcher to be lowered.

He steeled himself for the inevitable pain of movement. Luther joined them and together they loaded his wounded body onto the board, attached the rope, and hoisted him to freedom.

As he emerged into the bright sunlight, Chago's light-dazzled gaze locked on the woman whose fate rested in his hands.

Irena
.

• • •

They stopped halfway back to Kinshasa so Xander could make a call and the guys could stretch their legs.

Irena stayed inside to keep an eye on Chago.

She'd not heard a noise from him on their drive home so far and glanced into the rear of the SUV, surprised to find him sitting up and looking back to his regular, robust self. Years of medic training told her what she saw was impossible. Her heart proclaimed otherwise. Had what he told her been the truth?

She needed some air. Irena pushed open the door and moved toward the deserted back of the vehicle on shaky knees. Her rational mind still refused to accept the most obvious explanation. He couldn't be immortal.

The dusk heat coupled with her growing anxiety took their toll. Irena clutched the rear hatch of the Range Rover as the world spun. As if from a great distance, she heard Chago's voice, saw him moving toward her as her knees buckled and reality dissolved.

When Irena opened her eyes again, she was inside the cool, shaded interior of the car. A soft weight supported her head and something stroked the hair from her forehead. She squinted, focused.

Chago stared down at her, his ice-blue eyes full of concern.

She struggled to sit up, but he held her in place with a gentle hand.

“Do you believe me, Irena?”

The quiet murmur of his voice worked better than a narcotic. Her muscles turned to jelly. “Believe what?”

“The things I've told you.” He raised her palm to his lips. “About me.”

Her nervous chuckle filled the constricted space and she attempted to tug her hand free. His grip tightened, refusing her avoidance. Irena glanced at his chest, at his heart, at the location of several previous mortal wounds. She looked away again as her focus strayed to the feel of his skin against hers, his heat, his taste.

“I'm not human, Irena. Not anymore. Not entirely.”

Irena yanked free of his grasp and sat up, placing her palm on his forehead to check his temperature. His eyes slid closed at her innocent touch. Before she had time to react, his fingers circled her wrist and he tugged her closer, his lips capturing her startled gasp.

She softened beneath his tender assault. Her heart stuttered as he pulled her astride him, his hands skimming below her shirt.

A discreet knock on the window interrupted their interlude.

She scooted back into her seat and buckled her restraint. This was all too much. His hand slid across the seat, searching for hers. She crossed her arms and built an invisible wall around herself. Right now, she didn't need sex. She needed answers.

Xander slid into the driver's seat and looked over his shoulder at Irena, as if reading her mind. “Let's head back to the hotel. I'm sure you have plenty of questions for us.”

• • •

Archon crouched behind a copse of bushes near the side of the Grand Hotel and waited. The sticky night air did little to sooth the itching burn of his parched hide. He'd not banked on the effects of the human realm on his demon tissues. But if his luck ran true, he'd not have to deal with the problem much longer.

An engine roared nearby and soon a silver SUV screeched up to the hotel entrance.

Beneath the dim lights of the portico, Archon sighted his prey. The guard had done well.

Drake exited the vehicle and tossed his keys to the valet. He charged toward the lobby then stopped and pulled his phone from his pocket. Soon he'd stepped off to the side of the building, deep in conversation. Close enough for Archon to make his move.

Possessions were messy and difficult to sustain, complications for which Archon had little time or patience. A full-body takeover was the best solution.

“What the hell do you mean the Soldans disappeared? For fuck's sake, people don't just disappear.” Drake continued his increasingly agitated conversation as Archon snuck closer. “I don't give a shit what you have to do. Find them or you'll be six feet under by morning.”

He ended the call and started back toward the entrance. Archon stepped from the bushes and blocked his path, knowing there were no lights in this vicinity to disclose his appearance.

“Really?” Drake's tone was pure antipathy. “Doesn't anyone around here get a job anymore?” He fumbled in his pockets, pulled out a wallet and tossed it to the ground. “Fine, whatever. Take it. There's several thousand dollars in there and credit cards. I won't even report them missing until I get home. Promise.”

Archon advanced, steering him toward his final destination.

The scent of his prey's adrenaline spiked the air, as Drake seemed to realize this was more than a casual mugging. Archon savored the swell of delicious hormones like a drug, powerless to stop the low growl of pleasure from escaping his throat.

His quarry bolted, intent on escape.

Archon cornered him in the service alley between two dumpsters. Drake scrambled to climb atop one of the bins, but was too late. A single yellow security light glowed overhead, revealing the true horror of the situation.

As Archon advanced, Drake continued his impotent bargaining. “Please. I can get you anything you want. I've got power, connections, more money than you could imagine. Just name your price and I'll get it for you. Anything. Anything at all.”

It was far too little and beyond too late.

A quick blow to the back of the head knocked him out cold. Archon dragged Drake's limp body behind the dumpster and began the slow process of transmutation. Logic demanded he fully eradicate the host spirit before taking possession, but Archon didn't have that kind of time. He and the human would have to cohabitate for now.

Like a tailor stitching together a suit of disparate fabrics, he wove together his demon form and Drake's human body, creating a hybrid of flesh and fluids that would stay viable for the short time required. Archon slipped inside the human like a hand inside a glove. The outward appearance remained pure Drake. But the inside now fell under Archon's control, his demon's venom infiltrating the human's fluids and causing a slow rot of his systems. Unfortunately, his host would not stay fresh for long.

After a brief bout of awkwardness, Archon directed his new host through the lobby and up the stairs two at a time, unwilling to wait for the next elevator.

Drake's spirit raged, but Archon flicked him away like a gnat. He had bigger concerns.

Fierce hunger tore through him. The longer he was away from Hades, the more energy he required. His last round of tribal feedings should have lasted him well past the end of the week. As it stood, he barely had enough energy to make it through the day.

Instinct drove him to a room on the hotel's fourth floor. He searched the human's memories and uncovered a name. Adrienne Pierce. Reached in his pocket and produced a plastic card to unlock the door. Both demon and human ached.

He pushed into the room. Empty, save for a few articles of clothing scattered about. Running water echoed from behind the closed bathroom door. Archon made himself at home on the sofa, loosening the confines of his necktie and unbuttoning the top of his dress shirt.

More than one appetite might be served this night. The thought sprang from his fused mind like a weed, unwanted yet powerful. Desire and arousal surged hot through his veins. His cock twitched. Archon considered busting through the flimsy barrier and seizing what he needed. Force was a special aphrodisiac in his father's arsenal. The thought stoked his lust to colossal proportions.

A woman sang on the other side of the door and anticipation jolted through his nerves, bolstering his hunger. He shifted through Drake's memories and a vision of riotous red hair and pale skin emerged. As if summoned by his burgeoning need, she appeared, fresh from the shower, and wrapped tight in a fluffy robe. His unexpected presence startled her, but she soon overcame her hesitation.

“Drake, darling. I wasn't expecting you.”

Use of the human's name did little to diffuse the heavy haze of passion clogging Archon's vision. Of their own volition, his fingers went to his zipper, releasing his hard cock. The girl knelt before him and took him into her mouth.

Her surrender humbled him. Archon petted her head while she sucked his organ with the intensity of a mindless animal. She looked up at him through her auburn lashes, her eyes full of misplaced devotion.

Orgasm approached with stunning alacrity, prompted in large part by Archon's raging physical hunger. Between his legs, Adrienne moaned loud as his semen filled her mouth. His waves of gratification crested and Archon couldn't wait any longer.

Unaware of the danger, the woman continued her ministrations, swallowing his load. In his present state, Archon's venom was nothing compared to the flesh-eating scald of his sperm. A she-demon's physiology could withstand the poison. Not so with a human female.

Adrienne rocked back on her heels and lifted the sleeve of her robe to wipe her mouth. Scarlet stained the white terry cloth. She drew shaky fingers to her lips, only to pull them away at the moisture flowing from her mouth. Her hand dropped to her abdomen and terror replaced her previous smile. She tried to speak, but all that erupted was a cascade of blood. Adrienne fumbled backward, away from him, as her undecipherable keen grew louder.

Witnesses could not be risked. Archon slipped to his knees and inched toward her across the floor, now slick with her fluids. He would make her sacrifice worthwhile.

Too weak to resist, she fell easily across his chest. He latched onto her nape in a twisted mockery of an embrace, his fangs severing her spinal cord and filling his system with needed nutrients and energy. As the last of her life force ebbed away, Archon disengaged and set her now-chilled corpse aside.

From the pocket of his pants, Drake's cell phone buzzed. Archon pulled it out and read the text with a mix of triumph and resignation. Chago dead. Turay on way.

Archon returned to his host's hotel room for a shower and clean set of clothes, leaving his mess behind. The Scion could not have been killed so easily, he was sure, but the impending arrival of the insurgent leader boded well for his plans.

Immortal. I'm not human. Not anymore.

Chago's words and the healing she'd witnessed on two separate occasions continued in an endless loop through her exhausted brain, fogging her perception. Someone thrust a chunky crystal glass between her unresisting fingers. Irena jumped at the intrusion and frowned at the amber liquid swirling in the tumbler. “What's this?”

“Drink it.” Chago downed his portion before returning to join the other two warriors leaning against the mini-bar. “Trust me, you'll need the fortification.”

Irena returned the trio's wary gaze, questions tumbling through her mind like a cockeyed kaleidoscope. There'd been too much information to assimilate in one day. Hell, too much to assimilate ever.