Succubi Are Forever (25 page)

I would have him back soon. All I needed was that halo.

But I waited, because I would only get the one chance. All around me, it was silent. The night air was heavy in the stone house I’d been given, a jaguar hide tossed over the doorframe. Outside, I heard the shuffle of a few stragglers going to bed, then nothing but the noise of the jungle itself.

And still I waited.

When I could wait no longer, I carefully pulled my belt around my hips, checked the knives that I strapped to my thigh, my wrists. The one on the inside of my boot. I discarded my gun—too noisy for what I wanted. Then I stood and peeked out the door of my small stone hut.

Everyone was asleep. The large central fire that had blazed so merrily earlier was nothing but a heap of coals. The flaps were drawn over the village’s stone huts and everything was silent. At the far end of the camp, two men with spears guarded the base of the pyramid. Halfway up the side of the monument, there was a small door covered in leopard skin, the rock around it completely covered in vines. Bingo. That’d be where Camael was. Nice and secure and just a little bit pompous.

I slunk out of my stone hut and moved to the next one, keeping in the shadows. The guards occasionally glanced in my direction, but they didn’t spot me clinging to a shadowy wall. I used the shadows to creep closer, moving through the camp quietly. This was it. My chance.

Not much longer, Zane, baby.

Camael’s sleeping spot was high up the pyramid, and I circled around to the back, ignoring the cry of a monkey in the distance. At least, I hoped it was a monkey. Lord only knew what was out here lurking in the jungle.

There were no guards along the back of the pyramid, so I grasped the rocks and began to climb, supporting myself on the vines and hauling myself up. It was slow, difficult work—some of the footholds were spaced far apart, and I wasn’t much of a climber. I took my time, making sure each rock that I grabbed was solid. Not because I was afraid of falling, but because I was afraid of giving away my position.

When I finally pulled myself up to the top, I was panting and flushed with sweat. I bit back my gasping breaths and flattened myself against the side of the rough pyramid, moving toward the front.

The two men with spears were still there. I listened to them converse quietly. One laughed and then they fell silent again. I tensed as one shifted, glancing around the corner to where I stood in the shadows. He said something to his companion, then stepped toward me.

This was it.

I threw myself at him, brushing my fingers over his bare arm before he could raise his spear, and used my succubus powers to knock him unconscious. He went down, his memories flashing through my mind.

The other came around the corner a moment later, and I turned to face him, trying to put my back to him. Too late. He thrust his weapon. A stabbing pain shot through me and he jerked his spear out of my stomach. Blood welled in my mouth and I hunched over, hugging my stomach protectively. He raised the spear again, and I collapsed to the ground next to his friend, my eyes closed.

Silence.

After a moment, he prodded me with the spear again. I didn’t move.

He edged closer.

Victory. I reached out and grabbed his ankle, sending him to dreamland as I did so. He fell with a heavy thump, and I pushed his fallen body aside, dragging myself up.

I spat blood on the concrete, my mind hazy with pain. Damn it. I hadn’t expected one of them to really
stab
me. Luckily, it was just a belly wound. Those only hurt like hell, but it wouldn’t knock me out, at least. I pressed my hands to the freely bleeding gash, grimacing. I took my shirt off and bound the wound as best I could. I’d fix it later.

I hauled myself to my feet, feeling weak and dizzy with pain. Sticky blood was all over everything and shone like ink against my pale skin in the moonlight.

But I was so damn close. I moved to the front of the house and pushed aside the jaguar hide, stepping in to see my prey.

Camael lay there atop a nest of animal skins in the low bed, utterly still. His long, white hair lay smooth around his beautiful face, and his features were composed and noble even in sleep. His hands were clasped over his heart, his body perfectly straight. He looked as if he was dead. But the pulse of power that throbbed and swelled in this room told me he was very much alive. It was that power that dragged my feet forward, and I knelt at Camael’s bedside, reaching for my knife, ignoring the pain in my gut.

The halo’s power throbbed inside me, intermingling with my longing. My need.

My hands felt slippery with my own blood as I pulled my knife out of the sheath and readied myself. I stared down at Camael’s beautiful, sleeping form, so very peaceful. Angelic. And I forced myself to look at him dispassionately. I’d need to sever the head from the neck. Chop his arms off, next go after the torso, and once he was in bite-size chunks, scatter the pieces into the woods and hope the animals would scavenge him. I couldn’t be sure that would work, given that mosquitos were avoiding our bodies. I studied the sleeping man dispassionately, thinking hard. Maybe I could dump the smaller pieces into the river for the piranhas. Or maybe I could soak his body parts in the unholy water and hope it acted like acid and dissolved them—

I squeezed my eyes shut, gagging at the thought. What was I doing? Calculating the best way to dispose of a body? That was sick. Revolting.

Think of Zane,
I told myself again.
Zane needs you. This depends on you getting that halo. You didn’t come this far—suffer through this much—to give up because you’re a little squeamish.

I took a few deep breaths, ignoring how much that hurt, and raised the knife again, laying it at Camael’s marble throat. He was beautiful in the low light, pale and flawless. My knife didn’t seem large enough and I looked at his throat, then at my knife again. I’d have to saw through him, shove through tendon and bone, hacking at this beautiful man.

Not a man. An angel.

Like Zane had been. And here I was going to murder him in cold blood, hack him to pieces, and feed him to the jaguars, all so I could have my lover back.

It was a total dick move. I knew it. I’d dreamed of this dick move for months on end. And now that it was here…

I stared at his angelic face. Raised the knife again, then lowered it.

I couldn’t do it.

This wasn’t me. I couldn’t murder a man in cold blood and hack his body to pieces.

I look at you and I see Phryne. I see that same ice she has in her eyes. I look at you and I see someone who’s willing to use and abuse others to get what she wants.

I lowered the knife and stared at Camael, hating the tears that rose to my eyes. Weak, stupid tears because I was pathetic and couldn’t kill a man to save another. I’d come so close. The halo sang to me, setting my nerve endings on fire. I wanted it so badly. I
needed
it.

And yet I couldn’t kill a man who had done nothing wrong. I couldn’t kill in cold blood. Angry at myself, I swiped at the tears on my cheeks, feeling utterly defeated.

“I was wondering if you would be able to do it,” a calm, low voice said.

I looked up into Camael’s colorless eyes, shocked.

He stared back at me, unmoving. Power crashed, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I lowered the knife, hesitant. A Serim should not be awake in the middle of the night, staring at me. Yet the power was his. I could feel it all around us, so thick that it felt like a mist clinging to the air. “I don’t understand. How…”

He sat up, watching me, and rested one arm across his lap. On his wrist was a thick golden cuff. A power inhibitor—just like the ring I wore. He must have had it made to override the Serim sleep, somehow. Tricky of him. Camael gave me a small smile but didn’t move, as if daring me to reach out and pluck that bracer from him to see what happened.

“I—I’m sorry,” I blurted. It seemed like both the right and wrong thing to say.

“You are here to kill me,” he said thoughtfully, studying me. “I could see it in your eyes the moment we met. Noah accepted defeat as soon as he realized I lived.” The long, gossamer hair spilled over his shoulder and bare chest, exactly the same color as his ghost-pale skin. “I expected to see defeat in your face, but you had a fire of determination instead. I knew then that you would come for me.”

“Was I that obvious?”

“Perhaps not to the others. But I recognize when someone has lost everything.”

I looked into his eyes and saw that hard, despairing ache I saw in the mirror every morning. This man had loved and lost and had been centuries without the one he loved more than anyone else. An ache formed in my throat. I knew what that was like; but to be centuries—millennia—without that one, I couldn’t bear to imagine. “I need your halo,” I told him. “The Archangel Gabriel promised me that I could have a boon if I returned the two missing archangel haloes to him.”

A wry smile touched that cool mouth. “Did he, now? He should not ask for things that do not belong to him.” He leaned forward, moving closer to the edge of the bed of furs, where I hovered, crouched on my knees, bleeding on his floor. “And the other halo, have you found it?”

I noticed the note of emotion in his voice and felt a pang of alarm. Oh no. Did he want the halo too?

“I had it and lost it,” I admitted. “I owed a promise to a demon and the moment I grabbed it, she showed up to collect.”

He recoiled, almost seeming to wither a little. His eyes narrowed, as if trying to digest extreme pain. “Azazel’s halo?” He breathed. “A… demon has it?’

At his agony, I realized the truth. “Azazel—he was the one you fell for?”

Two archangels in love—that must not have gone over well upstairs. I thought back to the murals in the tomb. Someone had targeted Azazel and destroyed him deliberately. I suspected it was because of the love he shared with Zephraim. I thought back to Noah and Zane, and the other angels that had fallen. The women they’d loved had all been murdered by jealous archangels who wanted them to suffer. Had Azazel suffered the same fate?

Best loved of all the archangels. I imagine someone built this for him to show how much they loved him. An homage to him even in death.
I stared at Camael’s melancholy face and knew I was looking at the creator of that tomb.

“My love has been gone for twelve hundred years,” he said slowly, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond me. “Thousands of sunrises without him. Endless lovers who were not him, who did not have his wondrous touch. I miss everything about him. Life is agony without him. Immortal life without him… it is unendurable.” Camael’s eyes focused on me again, their depths glimmering with a hint of tears. He tilted his head, studying me, my eyes. “But then, you know this.”

“I do,” I said softly. “I don’t want to live a thousand years without the one I love. Please, help me.”

Camael’s hands went to his chest, covering his heart. “To think that my love’s essence has been taken by a demon. His soul swallowed as he waited for his return to heaven, stolen from the tomb I built him.” He shook his head. “You have done this to my love in your ignorance, but I cannot punish you.”

I stiffened in my seat. Punish… me?

His gaze grew cold, hard, the smile curving his mouth unwelcoming. “Yes, punish. You think I would allow you to destroy my lover’s soul and not feel the sting of my wrath? But I see you, and I see in your eyes that whatever I did to you would not matter. You have already been punished more than a mind can bear. It has driven you to the brink of madness. Your humanity is almost gone. I was not sure that you would not kill me. Part of me wishes you had.”

“Part of me wishes I had too,” I said, then shook my head, dropping my gaze to the ground. “Would you have let me?”

His gaze was unwavering. Then, after a long moment, he said, “Perhaps.”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t do it. The loss of my Zane isn’t your fault.”

“And you would bring him back?” Camael asked. “With the wish you are given, you would wish for his return? I wandered for many centuries, seeking answers that would bring my love back. When I realized it was hopeless, I retreated from the world.”

“It’s not hopeless,” I said, and meant it with every fiber of my being. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get him back. Will you give me the halo?”

He reached out to brush my cheek with his fingers. They burned with power against my skin, but I remained in place, waiting. “I cannot.”

I was shattered at his refusal. “Why not? You don’t want to live anymore.”

“I do not,” he agreed. “But you cannot defeat the demon if she has stolen Azazel’s power. It will take another archangel.” At my inquiring look, he straightened on the bed and stared at the golden cuff on his arm. “I will destroy the demon for you and then give you my halo. You shall have your love back so one of us may have an eternity that is not full of torment.”

Tears burned my eyes. “You’d do that for me?”

“No,” he said gently. “But I would do it for
my
love. How can I not make the same sacrifice for yours?” His gaze went distant again, and he stared beyond me. “This immortal life crawls on through dirt and rock and mud and unimaginable loneliness. I have spent a thousand years without him and felt the ache of every moment. If Gabriel chooses to destroy me upon my return, I would welcome it as an end to my suffering.”

“Thank you,” I said, and placed my hand over his in his lap.

His eyes gleamed in the darkness, and I was not sure if it was tears or something else. “Does your master know that you planned to destroy me?”

I grimaced. “If he’d known my plan, he’d have never come with me.”

“And you would have left him here? Crept away with my power like a hungry mongrel with a bone?” He knew I could not have left with Noah at my side, not with Noah’s ability to command everything I did.

“I would have,” I said. “He would have never forgiven me, but I would have accepted the loss. Collateral damage,” I said, then wished I could bite the words back in to my mouth.

The demon had said that to me.