Angel's Curse (35 page)

“Your heart never misses a beat. It never speeds up and never slows down,” he murmured in my ear. “Why?”

“I don’t know why. Perhaps it hasn’t been given the right
incentive
yet.”

His breath was warm in my ear. I thought about what I was going to do and shivered. I couldn’t delay any longer — I might not get another opportunity like this. It was hard enough to keep up the charade.

“Is it true?” I asked.

“Is what true?”

“What I’ve heard about vampires and werewolves.”

“If you mean did I create them, yes.”

“That makes us related, in a roundabout way,” I whispered and smiled. “Kind of kinky, don’t you think.”

“We’re more related than you think,” he tapped my chest with a finger, “part angel,” then tapped his chest, “ex-angel.”

“Who’s your favourite?” I asked.

“Ah, that’s the thing. I don’t have a favourite,” he laughed. “They only
think
I do.”

“There’s another thing I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Go on,” he said.

The song’s coming to an end, Helena. Act now, quickly.

“I’ve never been to your chambers. Don’t you want me to see where you go when you leave me?”

He leaned down, kissed my cheek and we were no longer in The Cage — we were in his rooms, gently swaying to non-existent music.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked. I shook my head. “No, of course you don’t.”

He left me standing in the middle of the room and headed towards a bar, sorting through bottles until he found what he was looking for — a very fine, old bottle of cognac. I could smell it from where I stood as soon as he uncorked it. He poured a generous amount into a crystal goblet, drank it down and refilled it. He sauntered over to an oversized armchair, bringing both the bottle and glass, and sat down.

“You may not be able to enjoy it the traditional way, but there are other ways to taste it,” he said, holding the glass high and twisting it around, watching the light pick up on the rich colour.

“Feel free to have a look around, but don’t keep me waiting long.”

I wandered through the rooms — eight in total — and noticed that not one of them, including the one we arrived in, had external windows or doors. When Satan brought someone here they came at his pleasure, and remained until such time as he decided to release them.

There were many amazing things throughout his chambers, and dark and sinister things as well — death masks and petrified body parts, fingernails and teeth. I wondered if they belonged to guests he had brought here that had displeased him.

Red was not the colour of his choice here. In his private world he could be whatever he wanted to be without fear of portraying the wrong image or showing weakness. I was sure it was rare he let anyone leave here alive, or at the very least unchanged.

There were six bedrooms, including the master, and aside from his bedroom each was based on a theme. One gave me the impression of the daytime sky, light blue with puffy white clouds painted on the walls and a billowy white bed. If he acted out his own fantasies and perversions here … I shuddered to think what they would be.

The master bedroom was massive, easily the size of the other five bedrooms put together. There were two cages in the corners opposite the bed and a large dresser displayed various weapons through the ages, some of which I didn’t recognise. What I did recognise were three daggers displayed in a black velvet box.

I took one final look at the cages and felt sorry for whatever it was that might have been trapped there in the past. I hadn’t thought of the possibility I might not be able to leave, but I was in too deep to turn back now. I wandered back to the main area and clicked my fingers. Music began to play and Satan sat up a little straighter, still nursing his drink.

I stood a few metres away from him, my feet apart and my hands on my hips. I leaned forward and let my hair flow down, ruffling it in the process. I started to move my head in a circular motion so my hair swung around. I swayed my hips. When I flicked my head back, I was already gyrating seductively, caressing my body with my hands. I slowly unzipped the outfit I was wearing and placed the end of one sleeve in my mouth, tugging and slithering until my arm was free, then did the same thing with the other sleeve.

I kicked off my shoes and sat on the ground with my legs together, knees in the air and toes pointing to the ground, moving from that position into a straddle split. I leaned forward — pushing up on my hands — and brought my legs behind me, bending at the knees and lifting my feet up so that my toes touched my shoulders. I moved so quickly that if Satan had blinked, which he didn’t, he would have missed the next move. My hands came up over my shoulders to grab the bottom of my outfit, at the ankles, and pull it off my legs in one swift, fluid motion. I threw it in front of me, at Satan’s feet.

Now that I was down to my bra and G-string I crawled on the floor towards him — on all fours — like a cheetah stalking its prey. He set down his cognac and I climbed up onto his lap, so that we faced each other. I leaned into him and rubbed his chest not only with my hands, but my breasts as well, and writhed on his lap. My lips sought his and we kissed. He folded his arms around my back, feeling my skin and unhooking the bra.

He slid one hand between us to remove the bra and pulled me closer, enjoying the feel of my bare flesh against his. When I thought he was ready I leaned back slightly, making sure to retain eye contact with him, and reached for his hand. I turned it around so I could see his wrist and licked it, smiling, then let it drop slightly, gently tracing circles in his palm with my free hand.

I willed my heart to beat faster now, to add to his anticipation and excitement, and it reacted to my need by fluttering at such speed I thought it had stopped. He placed his hand on my breast to feel the racing of my heart reverberating throughout my body, and smiled.

He
knew
what I was suggesting we do, thinking I longed for it as much as he did, and pushed his wrist back towards my lips, encouraging me to take it in my mouth and bite.

He rubbed the side of my thigh as he waited for me to do what he wanted — what he’d been trying to achieve for months, if Asmodeus was to be believed — and as I bit down he clung to my hip, digging his fingers in and moaning with pleasure. It was as if he’d never experienced true pleasure before. This is what he’d been waiting for.
I
was what he’d been waiting for.

When the blood began to flow I could distinctly taste the cognac. Now I knew what Satan meant by there were other ways to enjoy it. Did that mean he knew how far things were going to go tonight, regardless of whether I wanted this or not?

Don’t think about it, Helena, just do what you have to.

Only the smallest amount of his blood had touched my tongue, yet even that was more than I’d wanted to actually taste. My plan was to transport the blood to the vase in the safe at the La’miere, but I couldn’t resist the taste of his blood, just for a moment.

When he reached for my wrist I realised I had to focus, and let no more of his blood touch my tongue. It was to go only where I had intended it to go. On some level I knew his blood would not kill me as it had the archangels. I’d let the demon within me have control for so long that it couldn’t possibly have quite the same effect, and the eyes … the eyes held the
key
to surviving the poison altogether. Then again, maybe it was the cognac. Perhaps when I let the angel out, if my eyes returned to normal and I separated the cognac from his blood, it would be poison to me again. I hoped so.

Before he could raise my wrist to his mouth I snatched it away and let go of his wrist. A single drop of his blood ran from the corner of my mouth down to my chin.

“Thank you,” I said, and disappeared.

25.
Raphael

My heart stopped racing before I was back at the La’miere. I’d made it out alive, with what I’d originally gone to hell for. Or had I? What if the blood hadn’t made it back? I ran to the safe and the door opened, the smell of cognac overpowering. I carefully removed the vase — my hand brushed a small leather roll as I did so — and looked at how much blood I’d managed to collect — it was almost full.

I set the vase down on one of the bedside tables and went back to the safe to retrieve the roll. I sat on the bed and untied the leather thong. Inside were the three daggers Drake had given me and that I’d returned to Satan. He’d probably be enraged that I’d stolen them, I knew that, but compared to leaving him the way I did, it was an insignificant crime. If all worked out as I hoped it would I’d never see him again and would be safe from his wrath. He had quite a temper.

I sniffed at the blood. The cognac was very strong and if there was even a remote possibility that it diluted the poison it had to be removed.

“Glass, now,” I said, and a tall glass appeared in my hand.

I concentrated on the blood, and liquid the colour of dark caramel began to appear in the glass. When the level stopped rising I placed the glass next to the vase and sniffed the blood. It smelled pure and unadulterated — the level in the vase had decreased by the amount of liquid that was in the glass.

I removed the daggers from the roll and put them in the vase. I wanted each of them to be well and truly coated in Satan’s blood before I set off to find Raphael.

I wouldn’t need to hunt. Satan had provided me with enough food during the nightly feasts to see me through. Add to that the small amount of his blood I’d tasted and I felt invincible. There was
nothing
Raphael could do to stop me.

“A shower. That’s what I want, one last shower.”

I headed to the bathroom. The shower already on, and hot and steamy. I stepped in and let the hot needles massage my neck, shoulders and back. I’d almost forgotten how good a hot shower could feel.

When I was dried and dressed I returned to the bedroom and removed the three daggers from the vase. They were slick with blood and I blew on them, causing the blood to crystallise. Three sheaths lay on the bed and I placed a dagger in each one. It was time to go and say goodbye.

Drake was alone and asleep on the bed. I sat on the edge and touched his shoulder.

“Drake,” I whispered.

He stirred, but did not wake. I’d found that when vampires sleep, they sleep soundly, until their bodies have the amount they require, a mere three hours — unless they’d participated in the lust — after which they could be roused quite easily. Most didn’t sleep beyond it.

I crawled over him, onto the bed, and curled up next to him. While I waited for him to wake I drifted off to sleep and dreamt of Danny …

He was very far away, but I knew it was him. He waved at me to attract my attention, then beckoned me to come to him. I glided through the air — my feet didn’t move — into his arms. I felt the warmth of his chest and the beat of his heart beneath it, the strength in his arms and the softness of his lips.

“I waited,” he said. “I told you I would. I’m saddened that your life has ended, but I’m glad you’re here, with me.”

I woke up with a start. Drake had woken up some time before and, realising I was there, had turned to watch me sleep. He was stroking my hair. I wasn’t dead.

“I knew you’d come back,” he said.

“I only came back to say goodbye, and return part of something you once gave me.”

I sat up and produced one of the daggers, in its new sheath.

“I’m sorry, I need the other two a while longer.”

“You did it?” he asked. “You managed to get Satan’s blood?”

“Yes.”

He grabbed my arms and shook me. “At what price, Helena,
at what price?
”

“None, I think.”
How could I be entirely sure?
“I promised him nothing and that’s what he got.”

“You know he won’t let you live, don’t you?”

I shook myself free of his grip. “I don’t intend to live once I’m done, but I don’t intend to die by his hand either.”

“I can hide you from him — you don’t need to die. There are places not even his demons can go.”

“Blind spots?” I asked.

“How do you know of blind spots?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve lived in a couple, for a time.”

“Then you know that not all of them are the same,” he said eagerly.

“Yes.”

“I can take you to one not even my friends know of. You would be
safe.
”

“Safe to live as a prisoner, for eternity?” I scoffed. “I think not.”

I pushed the dagger towards him and he clasped both his hands around mine.

“You’d prefer death to life?” he asked sadly.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Then go,” he said, letting his hands drop from mine, “and leave me in peace.”

I brushed my fingers against his cold cheek. “I’m sorry for any pain I’ve caused you. You’ll know when it’s done — the other daggers will return to you, as lethal as the day you presented them to me.”

I left the dagger on the bed and returned to the La’miere.