The Naphil's Kiss (16 page)

“Ohhhh!” Sarahi sighed at the sweet stimulation. Lucien liked the sound. He loved knowing his lady's pleasure was the result of his actions. He licked her again, and then again, making love to her with his mouth. Sarahi squirmed and twisted, whimpering. He held her still with his hand on her hip.

“Oh, Lucien!” She arched her back and shuddered as deep pleasure washed over her. Her flesh throbbed under the caress of his mouth. He wanted to experience that shuddering, so he positioned himself behind her and pressed into her welcoming depths.

The stimulation of his entry set of another round of ecstatic spasms and Sarahi buried her face in the pillow and wailed.

“Lovely woman,” he murmured, “my dearest love.” And then he began to pound into her, making her take every inch of his aching steel. She felt so good around him he wanted to climax immediately… and yet he wanted to postpone it as well. To enjoy her as long as he could. This position was exciting, but somehow… not enough. He slipped from her body.

“Lucien?”

“Turn over, love. I want to see your face.”

Sarahi rolled to her back and urged her husband down on top of her, twining her legs around his. Lucien arched his hips and speared deep inside her again, lowering his mouth to cover her in kisses. He thrust hard and then slowed down, nudging, slipping through her wet, heated passage. Sarahi stroked his back with gentle hands, urging him to continue. Her body tensed on the brink of another orgasm and he gave a sharp thrust, catapulting her into ecstasy. Words of love mingled with pleasured gasps as he rode his lady through one peak and into another until he could no longer hold off, and his own groans of pleasure blended with hers.

Lucien cuddled Sarahi close, listening as her breathing slowed, caught, changed to sobs. He made no attempt to shush her. What they were facing was more than worth a few tears. What warrior would not go off to battle bathed in the love of his woman? He kissed her and tasted the salt on her skin. As soon as he recovered, he would have her again. But for now, he just needed to hold her.

Chapter 20

As sunrise broke over the Mojave Desert, sparkling cheerfully on the silver exterior of a deteriorating travel trailer, a shimmer of heat rose from the sand and scrub. Being the last day of the year, even the desert was not hot enough for a mirage, and sure enough this proved to be an illusion. A second glance revealed a force of abnormally tall men, robed in white. They represented every race and color on earth, and yet seemed somehow not of earth, at least not entirely. They were matched in number by a crew of ordinary-looking men. Some were tough and battle scarred. Others were young, fresh-faced and flushed with the excitement of their first battle. But each man was visibly terrified. At their head, sitting on the steps of the trailer, was a man with gleaming ebony skin, glittering obsidian eyes, and jutting cheekbones which looked like they had been sculpted with an artist's tool. His jaw was set in stubborn lines, but his eyes were far away. A scent of perfume and woman hung around him, wafting from a handkerchief tucked in the holster which held his pistol. He pulled out the rose-colored square and lifted it to his nose. His lips seemed to form a word… Sarahi… and then he returned his prize to its spot and resumed his watch over the shimmering sand.

***

Josiah sat at the foot of Lilith's throne. The demoness ran her claws gently through his hair, caressing his scalp. He had to admit, she'd been much nicer lately. He knew she wanted to be with him, but he held back. For what reason, he wasn't certain. She was beautiful, and when she wasn't being terrifying, she was awfully sexy. Maybe the problem was how often she chose to be terrifying. Still, if he was going to live as a demon, he needed to make peace with their behavior.

The stroking claws flattened and she ran her palm down the back of his neck and over his shoulder. He rested his head on her knee. This wasn't the woman he wanted, but she might be the only one he could have.
Make peace with it, Josiah. Let it be. You're a demon. She's a demon. Consort to the demon queen isn't such a bad thing.

Josiah's eyes narrowed. What was that strange shimmer over on the side of the room? It appeared to be a mirage, wavering like a shimmer of heat in the desert.

“Ah, good. The ladies are back from Vegas. I could use some new drones… that is, unless you'd like a turn?” Lilith ran her claws lightly down his back.

“Maybe,” he said, considering the option. “Will you promise not to tear my throat out afterward?”

“Oh you silly boy. I would never do that to you. Come here, Josiah.”

She drew him to her throne and urged him onto the seat beside her, leaning down to kiss him. He accepted the kiss, pondered it. Not too bad. He could get used to this…

A scream erupted in the chamber, followed by another. Metal rang as swords were pulled from sheathes.

BANG! Was that a gun? Josiah pulled away from Lilith and turned. White-clad figures, seven in all, stood in a circle, back to back, guns trained on the room.

“Open fire,” a familiar, low-pitched voice snarled, and the soldiers began shooting succubae and drones. The demonesses extended their claws and fangs, circling the clerics, looking for an opening, but the guns kept them back. Several fell as the circle of clerics and Nephilim slowly rotated. The motion brought into view a small figure with a mask covering the lower half of the face. His gaze became ensnared by brown eyes which met his and then flinched away.

“Josiah.”

He closed his eyes. That beautiful, familiar voice rang in his head. He glanced at Lilith, and then back at Annie and felt dirty. How could he have traded that innocent sweetness for evilly lascivious demon queen?

Because you had to. Because Annie doesn't deserve a demon for a lover.

The girl had stopped firing and was standing as though frozen, just staring at him. He looked back intently. The Magnum trembled in her strong, capable hands.

Come back!
He could hear the words in his head as though she had spoken aloud.
Come back, Josiah. Come home.
He drew in a shaky breath.

”Assassin,” barked a commanding voice, “this is no time to lose focus! Fire!”

Annie aimed her weapon at Lilith and squeezed the trigger. The big demoness dodged and the bullet lodged itself in her throne, splintering the wood.

“Enough,” the voice barked again. “Fall back.”

That shimmer lit up the chamber again and the soldiers slipped through it, one by one. Those at the end of the line provided cover as their friends retreated.

“Watch this,” a sibilant voice murmured in his ear. Lilith reached back and made a throwing motion with one hand. The cleric at the end of the row froze. She closed her hand and he fell to the floor just as the last of his companions disappeared through the portal back to earth.

Josiah struggled to maintain his detachment. He had no way of knowing whether the captured cleric was Annie. They all looked alike in their uniforms. He trotted along at Lilith's heels.

“How did you do that?” he asked her.

“It's easy. You just make your energy into a net. Once it wraps around your victim, it locks up their electromagnetic field, as well as their muscles. Now let's see what we have here.

She reached out and sank her claws into the shoulders of the cleric, lifting him to his feet. Josiah reached out and dragged away the cloth which covered the face of…

“Peter?” It was unbelievable. Lilith had captured the bully who had made Josiah's life unbearable for as long as he could remember. A wave of hatred and rage welled in him as he looked into that face.

“What are you doing here?” Lilith asked the boy.

He struggled not to break down in the face of so intimidating an enemy. “I don't need to answer you.”

Energy swirled in the room. Lilith was bringing all her seductive power to play, trying to break down Peter's restraint. Josiah predicted it would work. And was stunned when it didn't.

“Let me go,” Peter said, his voice trembling.

“Oh, no,” Lilith replied, stroking him under the chin with one long black claw. “You're done, I'm afraid. But you get to decide how you leave this life. Tell us just what in the name of Lucifer you are doing here, and I'll kill you quickly. And believe me, young man, you don't want to know how I can kill you slowly.”

Peter gulped, his tanned face draining of color.

“How dare you infiltrate my home?”

He inhaled sharply through his nose, considering his options. Then, with a final show of bravado, he answered. “The stalemate has gone on long enough. We are here to issue an invitation. A challenge. Forget the game of cat and mouse. Come out of your hole and fight face-to-face.”

“Are the Nephilim and their cronies so eager for destruction then? Very well. I see you're telling the truth.” Lilith made a throwing motion and Peter flew through the air to crash into the far wall of the cave. He dangled several feet above the floor though hung from a hook.

“Josiah,” Lilith said in her seductive voice, “is this boy your friend?”

“No,” he replied, unable to keep the snarl from his voice.

“Good. I want to teach you something useful. Gather up all that yummy energy of yours.”

Energy?
He glanced at her, his eyebrow quirked.

“You're bubbling with it, fool. Gather it up!”

He'd never examined himself closely before, but now that she mentioned it, he realized he was surrounded by a muddy gray light. He glanced around the room. Every creature had a similar glow. Lilith's was shining black, like her ineffectual fire, but other colors danced around the succubae and drones, all muddied, shadowed with gray, but clearly visible.

He concentrated, making a closing motion with his hand, and the energy hovering around him obediently gathered into a ball.

“Good boy. Now, make it longer and thinner, like a blade.”

Josiah wasn't sure how he knew what to do, but he did.

“Reach out with your blade. Touch his aura.”

The moment Josiah's energy touched Peter's he felt the boy's emotions, tasted them on the tip of his tongue. Terror. Good. As many times as he'd made Josiah feel like shit, Peter deserved it. He deserved anything he got, the bastard.

“Push deeper. Push inside his body.”

Peter screamed. Josiah ran his energy over the internal organs. Clenching bowels. Pounding heart. Gasping lungs. Wildly firing brain. He touched everything.

“Now, just send a burst of energy along the line from you to him, and you'll take care of this one for good.”

Josiah paused. Considered. Images swirled in his head. Peter knocking him down and laughing, placing a foot on his throat… claiming Annie. Eyes narrowed, he sent not a pulse but a blast of pure, raw rage down the psychic cord between his aura and his lifelong nemesis.

As one, Peter's organs exploded inside his body. The strength of the blast forced blood from the boy's mouth, nose, and the corners of his eyes, where it ran like tears down his face. Lilith released her energy and Peter's corpse collapsed to the floor, where it lay like a broken puppet.

Josiah stared.

“Well done,” the demon said, “but a little fast. Next time start at the toes and work your way up. They suffer more that way.”

Josiah swallowed.

“Now then, our enemies have issued a challenge. We do not let challenges go unanswered. They want a fight, we will bring them one. They want to die, we will help them with that goal. Come on, Josiah. Let's show them what it means to come up against a superior force.”

Lilith stalked away. Josiah stumbled to a dark corner and vomited.

***

Rahab's scream echoed through the entire compound. From all corners, the women ran to her.

Salome and Sarahi got there first, wrapping their arms around their sister.

“What is it?” Sarahi asked. “What's wrong?”

“It's Peter. It's my husband. He's dead!” She burst into hysterical sobs.

Sarahi stroked her back and Salome ran gentle fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her.

“Is this what it will be like for all of us?” Jael asked darkly. “Will we all know when our men die?”

“I don't know,” Sarahi answered. “Probably.”

***

“Report, Jonas,” Lucien barked. “What happened?”

“The first stage of the plan seems to have been successful. We got into the hive and took down several succubae and drones.”

“Any casualties?”

Jonas nodded. “Peter didn't make it back. Do we go after him?”

Lucien shook his head. “No point. There's no way anyone will be able to get to him. We can only hope he's already dead. Anything else?”

“No, but I think you'd better talk to The Assassin. She seems a little…shaken up.”

And Jonas still seemed a little shaken up to learn The Assassin, who had provided backup to so many missions, was a girl. But no matter.

Lucien found Annie sitting on the sand, staring off across the desert, her arms wrapped around her knees.

“Annie?” He laid a hand on her shoulder. She turned, her mask hanging loose against her chest, a look of distress on her face. “What's wrong?”

“I saw him.”

Lucien's heart clenched. He never spoke of it, but the thought of his son with that demon monster was tearing him up too. “You knew he would be there.”

“Yes, but I didn't expect to see him. He was with her, right beside her throne. Have we lost Josiah forever?”

“I don't know,” Lucien replied. “I hope not.” He let the words hang between them for a moment before returning to soldier mode. “You have to shake it off, Annie. If you let your feelings distract you, you're going to get yourself killed. And probably others around you. Come on. Where's the warrior I know?”

She glanced away.

“Listen, if you can't pull it together, you'll have to go. I can't have you here if you're not mentally present. Go back to the compound with the other girls.”

She turned angry eyes on him. “You need me.”

“Not like this we don't. Go on, Annie. Go home.”

She rose to her feet and fastened the mask back over her mouth and nose. “Who's Annie? I'm The Assassin.”

“Good girl.”

A voice sounded inside Lucien's head. “General, where are you?”

“At the rendezvous point,” he replied telepathically.

“Get your angel ass down to the portal right away,” Nathaniel urged. “Something big is coming through!”

***

Something big indeed. A towering naked woman with black hair hanging to her knees, glowing, pupil-less green eyes, four inch claws, and huge back-curving fangs stepped onto earth. Her aura, black as tar, seemed to suck up the daylight. Around her, a host of women, claws and fangs extended, hissed and shifted. Among and between them, hundreds of men, their expressions vacant, hefted swords and spears, ready to do battle.

Nathaniel took a deep breath, and sent a quick thought to his wife back at the compound. “Ready,” he said to the company of Nephilim and clerics. High powered rifles were shouldered. “Remember, the more you take out before they reach us, the better. On my mark.”

“Kill them all!” the tall figure hissed, her voice sibilant as it whistled between fangs and over a forked tongue. The succubae and drones rushed forward.

“Fire!” Nathaniel shouted. As one, his battalion squeezed the triggers of their weapons, sending bullets smashing into the oncoming mass of enemies. Screams rang out across the desert sky.