The Demon and the Succubus (29 page)

This last observation surprised him and Levi frowned. “I’m not walking away from anything. My mother and my responsibilities there can be sorted out later.”

Uriel gave a derisive laugh. “I’m not speaking of your past but your future.”

“And you know this how? Soul gazes don’t work on me, remember?”

Uriel waved away the comment. “Call it experience from watching humans since they were created. What you’re doing is called running away.”

Anger flashed through Levi. He didn’t care if this was one of God’s Archangels. The damned man didn’t know what he was talking about. How could he? He was a pure Archangel, his paternity and where he came from were very clear.

Not to mention that Levi had no right to ask Amalya to be with him until he knew who he was. What could he truly offer her at this point? Even if he came to some arrangement with Lilith so he could be with her, what kind of life would they have? “You don’t understand.”

The first hint of impatience creased Uriel’s expression and power flowed off of him in waves. “Don’t I? You’ve been given possibilities and yet you throw every one of them away. You’ve spent your entire life railing against the unfairness of living longer, healing faster, not being quite human—which is something thousands of others would kill for.”

Uriel’s animated gestures showed more than anything how angry he was. “You wasted an entire mortal life wallowing in self-pity instead of living life to the fullest with what you’d been given. And now you’ve been given even more, and you’re ready to throw that away as well. There will always be challenges and hurdles to be overcome, but that’s no excuse to run from what you’ve been given.”

Uriel’s words stabbed deep and adrenaline fueled with anger curled through Levi. “It sounds like you’re very familiar with wallowing in self-pity.” It was a total shot in the dark, but when Uriel’s hands clenched into fists, Levi laughed. Apparently, the Archangel had definite chinks in his own armor.

“Are you going to strike me down for disagreeing with you? You’re one of God’s enforcers, aren’t you?” He held his arms wide in open challenge. “What are you waiting for? Smite me for my blasphemy.”

Tension crackled between them for a long moment and then Uriel broke it with a small huff that might have been a laugh. “If you’re waiting for me to kill you and give you the easy, coward’s way out of this, you’re going to be waiting a very long time.” The Archangel took one step back, the tension lessening with that one action. “We all must deal with the life we’re given to the best of our ability. And the sad fact is, we can usually see another’s path more clearly than our own.”

The condescending lecturer’s tone snapped Levi’s restraint on his temper and he swung forward, aiming a right hook toward Uriel’s jaw. When his fist connected with a surface harder than granite, pain radiated through his fingers and wrist, and then down his arm.

He stumbled forward.

Uriel stepped back, allowing Levi to fall on his knees onto the grass.

Levi just caught himself from kissing the grass by bracing his uninjured hand on the ground.

He cradled his broken fingers, wrist, and arm close to his body, sucking in large breaths to combat the rising nausea and dizziness that came as a reaction to the sudden pain and stupidity.

Uriel knelt next to him but didn’t touch him.

Levi cast a wary glance toward the Archangel. Not that he’d expected Uriel to heal him after he’d just taken a swing at him, but he couldn’t be sure what purpose this close stance could have.

“Some advice, Levi. Take all that anger and passion and instead use that energy for love and acceptance. Be brave enough to do whatever it takes to make yourself and those around you happy.”

Levi frowned through the pain. The words were spoken in a way that implied Uriel wasn’t that brave. He opened his mouth to ask, but Uriel cut him off.

“Life, even one as long as yours, is fleeting and must be savored. Don’t waste it.” Before Levi could think of anything to say in response, Uriel touched Levi’s temple and the world spun for a long moment.

In the next breath, Levi found himself in the same position he had been, only rather than grass underneath his knees and uninjured hand, it was cold, polished marble. His clothes were now completely dry, although they still felt stiff and uncomfortable from the encounter with the salt water. As the vertigo disappeared, a pair of white tennis shoes edged into his line of sight.

Levi tilted his head back and looked up at a dark-haired succubus he’d never met before. She stood with her hands on her jeanclad hips and a scowl on her beautiful heart-shaped face.

“I’m Jezebeth, Amalya’s sister. You must be the jackass she calls Levi.”

“Excuse me?” His voice was tight with pain, but he forced himself to slowly stand. Amalya had spoken of her sisters, but he wasn’t sure why he was currently on the receiving end of a very cold shoulder from this one. After all, he’d brought Amalya back safely, hadn’t he?

She raked a dismissive gaze over him. “Can you walk, or do I need to find someone to carry your sorry ass?”

He huffed out a short laugh, not sure what to make of the little spitfire. He had no problem seeing this headstrong beauty being related to Amalya, but he wasn’t sure where the hostility came from. “Excuse me?”

“You already said that. All the pain endorphins steal your cutting British wit?” She rolled her eyes skyward. “Come on then. I’ll get someone to look at your arm.”

He thought he caught the mumbled words “before I break it again” as she walked away from him.

“What seems to be your problem?” he called toward her, retreating back as he cradled his injured arm close to his body.

“You are,” she said as she rounded on him. “Amalya woke up to find out you’d left without even a word. She’s still weak but recovering, no thanks to you, you selfish prick.”

He met her brown, unforgiving gaze and resisted the urge to wince under her intense scrutiny. After all, he
had
left Amalya without speaking to her. Looking back he now realized he’d rationalized that the sisters would want to spend time together so he could wallow in self-pity, as Uriel had so succinctly said it.

Perhaps he was a selfish prick. “Is she all right?” he finally managed.

“Define ‘all right,’” she countered before she turned and walked off down the hall leaving him to follow or not.

Levi followed, stopping now and then to catch his breath when the movement aggravated the multiple breaks up and down his arm. What the hell had he been thinking trying to deck an Archangel? No wonder women liked to prattle on about male stupidity, because men like him proved the axiom daily.

He thought about heading directly toward Amalya’s quarters, but he agreed with Jezebeth on one thing, he needed to get his arm looked at. Finding Amalya only to pass out when he tried to hold her wasn’t a good plan. And that was if she even let him near her. Amalya’s temper may not be as explosive and creatively descriptive as Jezebeth’s, but it was still very formidable, as he well remembered.

Jezebeth led him down a long hallway and into a room at the end where two incubi who reminded him of boy band singers manned what looked like an infirmary of some sort. “This is Levi and he’s apparently broken some bones.” She chucked her thumb over her shoulder toward him.

When identical smirks graced both incubi’s faces, Jezebeth scowled. “I didn’t break them. But that doesn’t mean I’m not considering giving him a matching set.” She glared at both men until they dropped their gazes. When they did, she turned for the door without looking at Levi.

“Set the breaks and don’t bother being gentle. Once he’s recovered enough to get around, let Lilith know he’s back. But under no circumstances is he to see Amalya until you hear differently from either myself or Lilith.” She started to leave and then turned back. “Got that?”

“You won’t stop me from seeing her.” The angry words were out before he could think better of saying them. Making a further enemy out of Jezebeth wasn’t a good approach.

“Try it and you’ll find yourself back in the human realm without a pass faster than you can call me a
bloody bitch
,” she said in a pretty close imitation of his own clipped British accent.

She left, slamming the door behind her, and he had to restrain himself from bolting up and going after her. Even if he hadn’t done something stupid and gotten himself badly injured, there were political waters to be navigated here. And to complicate matters even more—stubborn females were involved.

Misgivings curled through
Amalya as she stood damp and cold inside a fancy drawing room decorated with priceless antiques. She’d never asked Levi if he had a duchess, but apparently there was a fullfledged one about to come through that door.

A quick spurt of cowardice made her want to bolt before she had to face the woman who shared Levi’s title, and his bed. But anger, betrayal, and jealousy rooted her to the spot and demanded answers.

Amalya had been the other woman countless times throughout her life—especially after she began working in brothels. Both men and women would come in for experiences they weren’t getting or were afraid to ask for at home. But in all those instances, she’d known up front and there hadn’t been any emotional attachment between her and the client.

Things with Levi had gone way past that.

He’d slipped past her protective walls and seen the real her—and accepted her as she was. Or so she’d thought before he’d walked out without a word.

She sensed a change in the air even before the doorknob slowly turned and the door slid inward.

Demon.

Not particularly high in the pecking order judging from its power signature but demon nonetheless.

Amalya glanced around to evaluate her escape options. There was a window along the far wall, but she’d have to pass the door to reach it. She snatched the switchblade out of her bra and quickly transferred it to the pocket of her jeans, keeping her fingers closed around it as she stepped back to put distance between herself and whoever was about to come through the door.

An impeccably dressed woman about Amalya’s own height entered the room, carefully closing the drawing room door behind her. Physically she looked to be in her late twenties with sea green eyes and rich brown hair worn in a fashionable style.

Amalya immediately knew the woman before her was a demon and had no illusions that the duchess, if that’s who now stood before her, recognized Amalya as a succubus.

“You must be Amalya. I apologize for keeping you waiting.” She raked a dismissive gaze up and down Amalya leaving no doubt as to her impressions.

“Is Levi here?” Amalya tried to keep her expression polite while she tried to figure out what was going on.

“I’m afraid Levi has stepped out.”

A half-truth.

“But I did want to meet you.”

Full truth this time.

She crossed the room to Amalya and gestured to two comfortable-looking chairs placed near the fireplace. “You look cold. Why don’t we sit and have a little talk. I’ll ring for some tea.”

Amalya stiffened. There was a price on her head in the demon realm. Now that she realized Levi wasn’t here, exhaustion seeped through her, weighing her down like a bellyful of lead and she wished she’d never left Lilith’s lair this morning.

The demon pulled a long braided silk cord that hung in the corner of the room and then snapped her fingers so a crackling fire roared to life just behind the fireplace grate. “Please sit.”

A fire demon. Even low-level fire demons could be dangerous, for that one gift she’d just witnessed.

Amalya slowly backed away toward the door. “I’m sorry for intruding. I’ll come back when Levi is here.”

“He and his father, Thomas, fought constantly. Did you know that?” The clipped cultured words reminded Amalya of Levi, even as shock at their meaning slapped at her. Why would the demon choose to share that with her?

The demon laughed. “I’ll take that as a no. Obediah has always been a very private man.” She sat in one of the chairs she’d gestured to a moment ago, crossing her legs at the ankle, her posture impeccable and graceful. “Please, sit. I really just want some time to speak with you.”

Truth.

That combined with the yearning sadness lacing the demon’s voice made Amalya cross the room and sink down into the other chair. The warmth from the fire reached out like a welcome caress, chasing the chill from her skin and loosening some of the cold deep in her gut.

The sound of the door opening made Amalya bolt to her feet, cursing herself for believing a demon. She tightened her fingers around her switchblade and turned to watch the same butler who had opened the front doors carrying a tray so laden with food she was surprised it didn’t topple him.

Amalya stepped back, watching him carefully while he laid everything on the table just next to the chairs where the demon still sat.

Her stomach rumbled at the array of small sandwiches, scones, and tea, but she refused to let down her guard. This could still be a trap.

It had definitely not been wise to leave Lilith’s lair before recovering fully.

“Thank you, Jenkins.” The demon waved the man away and began pouring two cups of tea. When the butler disappeared and shut the door behind him, Amalya waited for her fight-or-flight response to kick in, but when none came the knots in her belly slowly unwound.

“Please, my dear. It’s only tea. It’s perfectly safe, and as I said, I’d like to speak with you.”

More truth.

Amalya couldn’t deny her own gift’s answers, but she knew she needed to stay wary. Besides, the temptation of finding out more about Levi’s past beckoned like forbidden fruit—a fitting comparison with both a succubus and a demon in the room.

She slowly sat and reluctantly unwrapped her fingers from her switchblade before she removed her hand from her pocket.