Succubi Are Forever (18 page)

He grimaced. “Can’t. Beyond those steps, it’s holy ground.”

That meant I was on my own. I moved back to him and lifted my hands to his face, tilting his mouth toward mine for a long, searing kiss. He tasted like fresh cigarette. “I won’t be long. Wait for me?”

His red eyes burned into mine and his voice went husky. “You know I’d wait for all eternity for you.”

“I know,” I said softly, pressing my forehead to his.

Zane kissed me again. Quick. Hard. “Be careful.”

“I will.” I turned back toward the steps. There were six of the thick, broad slabs of rock that made up the stairs, and I slowly dragged my feet up each one, taking my time, the power pulse making my body more sluggish the closer I got.

The doors opened as I took the final step and my heart sank into my stomach. Nerves shot through me. This was it. The power inside throbbed even harder, making my still-healing head ache even more.

Behind the doors was a small chamber, lit from within. The entire room was cast into golden light, the walls covered with carved murals. In the center of the room lay an enormous altar, and the pure golden light was beaming from the altar itself, almost as bright as the midday sun.

Holy shit, there it was.

I stepped forward, shielding my eyes with my hand, my gaze on the murals covering the walls. They were stylized renditions of Azazel’s life. The panels started with his life as an angel, then as they crept across the room, they told the story of his fall. Later panels showed him worshipped by primitives—the ancient, long-ago natives of this area, I supposed. The next few panels showed him side by side with another tall figure and them embracing. His love. The next panel made my blood run cold. It showed another man, a sword raised high over his head, destroying Azazel. The next seven panels depicted his rather graphic decapitation, the burning of his body, and the scattering of his ashes. Lovely.

So this was the murdered Azazel’s tomb, clearly. But there were no signs of a second immortal. Where was the second halo? None of this made any sense.

I moved forward, squinting at the altar. It was so brilliant with light that I couldn’t tell where its surface was—it seemed to have been swallowed by the shining light entirely. I closed my eyes, laying my hands on the altar. Cool. Stone. That was the only impression I had before the bright glow flared like a supernova, lighting up behind my eyelids.

And then it died away.

The pulsing grew heavier, more ominous. I opened one eye, testing. The light in the room had fallen to a mere greenish glow—more moss on the ceiling. In front of me, at the center of the plain stone altar, lay a circlet of banked orange light, now gone dull.

The halo.

My fingers closed around it. It felt like liquid fire, and my hair started whipping around my face as if I were standing in the midst of a tornado. I jerked away, then realized that it didn’t burn—the heat, the brightness—it didn’t harm me. I grasped the halo again and raised it slowly.

It was gorgeous. Flames licked along the circle, looking as if I’d caught the sun. The halo itself was pure power, made of nothing but the angel’s will. It rippled and spun like it was made entirely of fire, of magma, of heat and light. The light of the eternal, the puzzle had called it.

It was beautiful.

It was
mine
.

The power pulsing in the tomb died down, the light fading the longer I held the halo, as if it were recognizing me. My hair stopped whipping about my face, landing in tangled waves around my shoulders.

“Fancy,” I said softly, pleased. I held it aloft, then frowned. How the heck was I going to carry the thing? It felt wrong to put it on and wear it like one of the angels. I looped my arm through it and it immediately began to shrink. Alarmed, I pulled my arm back out again and it expanded. It resized itself.

Huh.

I put it over my ring finger and sure enough, it resized itself once more, becoming as small as a golden band. Pleased, I flexed my hand and examined the altar, and then the murals. Sure enough, there was only one halo. Well, rats. Where was the other?

As if responding to my thoughts, the halo on my finger pulsed. My mind suddenly raced, flying through the skies, winging over oceans and heading toward a thick, vast jungle.
Let me show you,
a voice whispered in my ear, more suggestion than actual words—

Who are you?
I asked.

A creepy, soft echo of a laugh in my mind, but no answer. I shook my head to clear it, more than a little alarmed. Okay. I’d go mental-exploring for the other halo later, when I could control it a little better, and when I had time to chat with that new voice in my head. If it even
wanted
to chat.

I left the tomb, shutting the doors behind me. Zane paced at the bottom of the steps, agitated.

“I have it,” I told him, raising my hand in triumph.

His gaze lifted at the sound of my voice, but his eyes remained unfocused, as if he couldn’t quite see me. “Where are you?”

Oh, no. He couldn’t see me because I wore the archangel’s halo. Serim couldn’t see demons, and vampires couldn’t see pure angels. It was a little cosmic insurance to prevent all-out war, I supposed. Hide the enemy from each other.

It was also damned inconvenient. But I wasn’t ready to take the halo off just yet. I moved forward and touched my hand to Zane’s chin, leaning in to kiss him. “Right here.”

He hissed in pain and jerked away from me. Where my fingers had touched him, his skin reddened as if burned.

“Oh, Zane. I’m so sorry.” I ripped the ring off my finger and pushed it into my pocket. Immediately, my pocket began to surge and grow, stretching to halo-size.

“Shit!” I quickly yanked it back out again and stuck it on my finger before it could rip my shorts from me. “I don’t know what to do with this thing.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Zane’s voice was agitated.

“It was stupid of me. Sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking—”

He raised a hand to silence me, and I looked at him with surprise. But his head was tilted, his gaze vacant, focused on something I couldn’t see. Then, his face went stark with despair.

“What is it?” I whispered.

“Jackie, Princess,” Zane said hoarsely. His gaze swept over where I stood, his eyes focusing on nothing. “Do you trust me, love?”

Love?

He never called me love. “Of course,” I said softly, but a tremor of fear was beginning to vibrate deep in my belly.

“I need you to keep the halo on. Don’t take it off for anyone or anything. It’s yours as long as you have control of it. They can’t touch you as long as you wear it.”

Dread curled in my stomach. “They who?”

“They’re here. I don’t know how they’re here, but they’ve found us.” Hollow despair showed in his eyes. He reached for me, then hissed as the skin contact burned his hand. He shook it, frowning. “I want you to promise me that you’ll stay back.”

“Who’s here, Zane?”

“The queen,” he said harshly. “She’s come for the halo.”

Oh,
no.
Someone must have tipped her off. How in the hell did all these immortals show up at the same spot at the exact same time when this thing had been sitting here for millennia? Something wasn’t adding up. Either we’d tripped some sort of cosmic booby-trap… or someone had sold us out.

My eyes narrowed as I thought of the peach-haired succubus with the cold, dead eyes. I had a few guesses as to whom. “What do we do?”

My vampire’s eyes were full of sadness. “You trust me, don’t you, Princess?”

“Oh no. Zane, you can’t sacrifice yourself.” I reached for him, only to pull away again, mindful of hurting him. “Goddamn it, Zane.”

“There’s no other way, Jackie. Use the halo to mask its power signature. Quickly.”

I closed my eyes, readying myself for a struggle with the voice. But as soon as I thought it, it happened. The flaring pulse of power died, and then I felt… nothing. I glanced down at the ring on my finger. Still there.

“Good,” Zane said, dragging a hand through his hair, agitated. “I can distract her. I’ll tell her that you’ve already sent the halo back to Gabriel. If she has me to torture…”

“No,” I said, and tears began. “Zane, please no. Don’t do this. Not when we’ve got each other now. I need you.”

A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “No you don’t, Princess. You’re strong. With that halo, you’re as strong as she is. You don’t need anyone or anything. Just watch yourself. And when you can… come and save me. I’ll hold on for you.”

Hold on? “Oh God, Zane. Please.
Please,
don’t do this.”

“Will you give me a kiss good-bye?” He closed his eyes, tilting his face toward my voice. “We haven’t got much time before they fly in here and I need to intercept them.”

“But—”

“Kiss me,” His words were a quick snarl.

I moved forward, pressing my hands to his cheeks, ignoring the sizzle of his skin in response. I pressed my lips to his, crying. His lips felt warm against mine, dry. Wonderful. I could taste the faintest hint of cigarette as his tongue stroked briefly against my lips and then he pulled away.

Too brief,
I thought, aching for him already.

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine. Then he stepped away, his skin red from my touch. His throat worked as he studied where I was standing. “Wish I could see you one last time.”

“Zane, don’t.”

“Stay there, love,” he said softly, a command. “Stay in the tomb for an hour. If I don’t come back, I want you to send it up and go after the other. Remy’ll take care of you. And if you need more help, get that prick Noah.”

“Fuck Noah,” I said, tears in my throat. “I want
you
.”

That brought a smile to his face. “Good.”

And with that, he launched himself into the air. I had no choice but to stay, because Zane had given me a command. The lover who had promised to never make me do anything I didn’t want to do… was using my weakness against me for my own good.

“There are boundaries, of course. Every person has them. But be prepared for people to try and push you past those boundaries. Not because they want you to grow as a person. Mostly because sticking your finger up your partner’s ass looks great on camera.”—
If You Put the Tip In, It Counts as Sex,
by Remy Summore

~*~

I went back into the tomb and closed the door, as I had been compelled to do. I slid against the cool stone door, my eyes wide, my entire body straining to hear something, anything, from outside. My thoughts were racing, frantic with worry, imagining the worst. The queen would be furious if she found out Zane was alive. I remembered his dream of the ripping feathers. Was she torturing him even now?

That only made my chest hurt with imagined pain, and I pressed my hands to my breast, fighting to keep the tears down. I couldn’t cry. Wouldn’t cry. Crying wouldn’t help Zane. I felt the warmth of the golden band on my finger. Of course! I could use the ring to see what was happening. I pushed my thoughts outward, using the ring’s powers, testing to see if I could feel Zane.

An intense cry of pain went up, rocketing through the cavern, and I bit down on my fist at the visual that accompanied the image.

The queen, standing over him, two other vampires holding him down, faces grim. The queen’s unnatural, claw-like nails were sunk deep into Zane’s chest, around his heart, and she hovered over him, her black eyes furious.

Torturing him.

“Where is the halo?” the queen asked.

“Gone,” Zane had said hoarsely. “You’re too late. It’s already been delivered to the archangel.”

Her snarl of fury was drowned out by the psychic wave of pain coming from Zane.

I snapped the tether and cut the vision. I wouldn’t peek again. I couldn’t.

The minutes ticked past so slowly. The hated compulsion seemed to take forever, and then I was suddenly free, the weight of the promise lifted.

I slid the heavy door open and stumbled down the steps, heading to the rope bridge, hurrying. I needed to help Zane. He was out there, somewhere, being tortured. Remy was still out there too, unconscious and alone and wounded. Noah was hidden in the maze, hibernating. Vulnerable if anyone found his shields and disabled them. We were all separated and in danger.

But all I could think about was Zane, and the queen’s claws sunk into his chest, the burning agony he’d felt. The sacrifice he’d made for me.

I stumbled over the rope bridge, ignoring the chasm below. I raced through the room with the square panels, expecting spikes to fly up from the floor. Nothing happened. No traps went off—I didn’t know if it was the ring or because I was going instead of coming. I didn’t care. I just had to get to him.

The next trapped room didn’t spring, either, and then I was in the maze.

“Show me the way,” I whispered to the halo, and it tugged me forward, through the miles of catacomb, leading me along. We moved past a warded room and I felt the pulse of Noah’s energy. I had no idea what time it was—would he be safe down here? I’d come back for him, I decided, just as soon as I figured out how to keep the halo and not have him know about it.

The halo led me to the entrance of the maze, the door still sealed on the other side. It gave a throb then went silent, and I heard a soft clicking from the other side, and then a softly muttered curse word. Phryne was still trying to work out the combination of button presses that would unlock the doors.

I paused on my side of the massive door and glanced up. The wall to the maze was ten feet high, and I wasn’t strong enough to scale it and surprise her.

But I felt her still, on the other side, and she’d noticed me too. “Who’s there?” she asked. “I have holy water.”

“It’s me,” I said softly. I used the ring to stretch my mind, but all I felt was Phryne. “Where are the vampires? And how did you get here, anyway—what did you do to Ethan?”

“I didn’t touch your little Enforcer. That was all my darling Ashara. As for the vampires, they’re heading up with their captive,” she said over the wall, her voice echoing in the cavern. “You should have left him with me. The death I gave him would have been a merciful one.”