Devil Take Me (14 page)

“Call them off!” She screamed the command into the captain’s face, stepping close enough to smell his ripe scent roiling all around her.

He smelled like a cross between a pig and a carpet that had been peed on and left out in the sun to cook, but she refused to back off, or to cover her nose. For some reason she sensed the devil would take that as a sign of weakness, of humanness, for lack of a better word, and the last thing she wanted to be was human in these creatures’ eyes. If she never felt like food again in her life, it would be too soon.

“Come closer, nephilim, and give us a kiss.” The captain leaned forward, mouth flapping open and closed, revealing rows and rows of needle-sharp fangs.

Annie’s power leapt from her body without her conscious permission, a gut reaction to the repulsive creature moving his thick, scabbed lips closer to her own. This time it was no scattering of magic, however. Her energy was all for the creature in front of her, funneled straight into him in a way she hadn’t realized she was capable of until that moment.

No sooner had the increasingly familiar charge swept away from her skin, than the captain screeched, an anguished wailing that overshadowed the war cries sounding from the airborne demons. The smaller devils surrounding him cowered away. Annie covered her ears, stumbling backward, her gaze glued to the bright spots of red breaking out across the captain’s light pink skin.

Polka dots, painted polka dots, was her first thought. But then the pools began to run, streaming down the devil’s face and chest, smearing into one another, becoming tributaries that fed into the larger rivers of blood pouring from his flesh. The captain’s three eyes grew impossibly wide and his scream louder as he reached toward her, silently imploring her to stop, to spare him.

But she didn’t know how, even if she’d wanted to, even if a horrible part of her wasn’t enjoying the sight of blood streaming onto the pavement, staining it an even deeper black.

“Oh…God…” Annie scrambled away even faster, gorge rising in her throat, but tripped over something behind her and crashed to the ground. This time, she hardly noticed the pain in her hands. She was up on her feet again in seconds, on the move, instinctively fleeing the horror lurching toward her, wishing she could flee the horror rising within her own mind.

She didn’t enjoy the sight of blood, even the blood of horrible monsters who wanted to kill her. She was a pacifist. She didn’t even own a bottle of mace to keep in her purse for nights when she stayed late at the school and had to walk to her car alone after dark. She was—

Annie screamed as the captain made one final dive toward her, gurgling something into her mind, a word she suspected was “mercy”, before he collapsed to his knees and then pitched forward onto his stomach. His body was deflating rapidly, shrinking as more and more blood surged onto the ground. The bulk she had assumed was composed of fatty tissue, was apparently nothing but water weight. The captain had been puffed up with blood, bloated like a tick from the looks of it.

Another wave of nausea swept over her, making her skin break out in a cold sweat and her hands shake as she fought to think, to figure out what she needed to do next, to remember what she’d been about before—

“Ah!” Annie screamed again as whatever had tripped her the first time nudged the backs of her legs. She spun to confront her attacker, but saw nothing until she looked down—way down.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“I think you’re pwetty.” The little yellow demon she’d noticed before twined around her ankles like a cat, crawling on all fours.

“Th-th-thank you.” Annie would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation if she hadn’t still been perilously close to losing the contents of her stomach.

“And I wike your person skin.” He lisped as he rubbed his—at least she guessed it was a he, though the demon really had no sexually defining characteristics—face against her and some of his orange snot oozed onto her bare legs. But for some reason the sticky goo didn’t bother her.

The feel of his small, warm body against her was instead strangely…comforting. And when he began to purr, a low rumble that vibrated against her calf, Annie was suddenly calm, in control, and remembered exactly what she had to do. She had to save Namtar, help him get free of the Annunaki who held him before it was too late.

“Okay, okay,” she mumbled to herself, ignoring her new yellow friend as she searched the air above her. She knew the little creature wouldn’t hurt her, no matter that it was possessed of its own pair of small, razor-sharp fangs.

After a few seconds, her eyes found what she sought. They’d flown a bit higher, but Namtar was still latched on to the Annunaki’s leg and the flying devils didn’t seem to be attacking either of them. Whether it was the death of their captain or simple reluctance to engage the angel with his golden power or Namtar with his death touch, they were steering clear, swooping around the battling pair, not daring to get too close.

But it was only a matter of time. If Namtar was injured or wounded, or if the Annunaki released him for a moment, Annie knew the flying demons would be on him like the vultures they resembled as they drifted lazily through the air. She had to think, had to find some way to help. But how? When they were at least a hundred feet in the air and she was stuck on the ground?

“Dammit!” She almost wished a car would drive by, an old beater filled with armed gang members or even one of the policemen out looking for her to bring her into custody, anyone who might have a gun in their possession. Sam certainly hadn’t enjoyed the pieces of asphalt she’d hurled at him, and she suspected he would enjoy a bullet or two even less.

Of course, she’d never shot a gun in her life, and whoever stopped would certainly be more inclined to take aim at Namtar or the circling devils than the Annunaki. They’d take one look at those angel wings and pretty face and naturally assume he was the good guy.

“Okay, so we don’t want someone to stop. Think, Annie! Think, da—”

“Miss? Missus? If I might be so bold as to make a proposition?” A sharp tug on the hem of her dress brought her eyes back down to the ground where another small, yellow demon crouched near the one still rubbing itself against her legs. This one was larger than the first, however, and sat back on its hind legs instead of crawling about on all fours.

“Yes?” Annie asked, struggling to hide her impatience with the creature.

Thus far, the little yellow demons didn’t seem to be violent, but she couldn’t really spare the time for a discussion. Time was a luxury she didn’t have.

“We darklings will give you what power we can. Power you might use to free Lord Namtar from the golden one.”

“And in exchange?” She didn’t dare ask how they would give her their power or inquire as to how in the hell she was supposed to use it.

The devils assumed she knew how to wield the magic Namtar had awoken within her, or she guessed the rest of them wouldn’t be holding back, cowering behind the fallen body of their captain. She couldn’t show weakness or confusion. She had to make it seem she knew what she was doing, and one thing she was certain of was that no devil was going to give her something for nothing. The little yellow creatures now scampering from the ranks of their larger red and orange brethren wanted something in exchange for their aid. Whatever it was, Annie only hoped she would know how to deliver it.

Because no matter how horrible or high the price, she wouldn’t hesitate to agree to their demands. She’d been ready to forfeit her soul to save the man she loved, what more could the demons ask of her? Right?

“Annie.” His voice sounded as broken as he felt, cracked and raw, barely more than a whisper.

“Shush, just lie still. I’ve sent the darklings to get the car. They should be back soon, and we’ll get you to a hospital.” She sounded as if she’d been crying. They must have hurt her, the devils, or perhaps Samyaza. But if it had been Samyaza, she would not be able to speak. She would be dead, and he as well.

Namtar forced his eyes open, though the effort required to do so was enough to make him long for sleep once more. The longing faded as Annie’s face swam into view, her eyes bright with tears as she peered down at him. For the first time he felt her hands smoothing through his hair, felt her thighs cushioning his head as he lay on the hard ground. The air around them was still and quiet, filled only with the distant sounds of the humans in their cars, blaring their horns at one another as they made their way through the dark night.

Miraculously, they were alone. Safe. Which brought only one question to mind.

“Samyaza, where is—”

“He’s gone. At least for now. The darklings gave me their power and I…I hurt him, but not the same way I hurt the devil captain. Samyaza isn’t dead, but he flew away, bleeding. A lot. He was bleeding a lot.” She took a deep shuddering breath, and Namtar felt her fingers tremble as she combed them once more through his hair. “I don’t know where he went, but he left, just dropped you and left and—”

“Annie—”

“I’m so sorry, Namtar.” She pressed on, her words growing even faster. “I didn’t think. I just knew I had to get you away from him. I should have realized he would drop you and there would be nothing to break your fall. I’m so sorry.”

More tears flowed down her face and for the first time Namtar realized it was he that she cried for. She feared he was damaged beyond repair, that she might lose him, and the thought had made her weep. The knowledge filled him with a different ache, one that dulled the pain coursing through his body. She cared for him. Perhaps it wasn’t yet the love he felt for her, but it was a beginning. A beginning he hadn’t thought he would have.

“Annie, ninani, I will recover from this damage. It is a small thing, nothing to—”

“It doesn’t look like a small thing. Your legs, they—” Annie sucked in another breath, and Namtar could see how hard she was working to hold herself together, to conceal from him how terrifying she found his broken body. “They don’t look good Namtar, and I’m sure you’re bleeding internally. You couldn’t have fallen from that height and—”

“I am not a mortal man, sweeting. I do not break so easily.” He managed to smile, despite the pain still throbbing through his body. “I will be ready to bed you again before the coming of the morning.”

“Really?” She smiled through her tears, and a relieved laugh shook her shoulders. “God, I was so worried.”

She leaned over and captured his lips. Namtar returned her kiss, meeting the sweet sweep of her tongue, relishing the taste of his woman, refusing to acknowledge the pounding ache setting up in his head as he moved.

He would put Annie’s mind at ease, no matter the cost to himself. His body would heal. Maybe not so quickly or painlessly as he would have her believe, but he would regain his strength before the dawn. He must be recovered by dawn, or he feared for Annie’s safety. He would have to be ready to travel. They needed to find somewhere to hide themselves, someplace where the flare of their magic could not be tracked by those who would hunt them.

And they would be hunted. The devils would be back, as would Samyaza and others of his kind. Even if the Grigori was bleeding, he would still—

“Bleeding? Did you say that Samyaza was bleeding?” Namtar pulled away from Annie’s lips, finally realizing what had disturbed him about her explanation.

“Yes. Not as much as the devil I killed but…it was a lot. The-the places where his skin was grey exploded and… God, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can talk about this right now.” Annie’s swallowed with obvious effort. Namtar could practically feel the bile rising in her throat as if it were his own.

Their connection was even stronger than it had been earlier in the hotel room. When he allowed his focus to soften, he could see the edges of their auras converging, glowing a pale green as they came together. It was their dark magic that had bonded them. The same breed of power, but from different sources. His, from his mother, one of the most ancient of the Annunaki, hers from a Grigori who had bedded down with one of her ancestors long, long ago and bestowed upon her the legacy of the nephilim.

“But a black Grigori, not one of the golden,” Namtar muttered to himself.

“What does that mean?”

“Your power, it comes not from one of Samyaza’s kind, but one of the black Grigori, the dark Watchers.” That had to be the case. If Annie’s magic were of the same ilk as Samyaza’s she would never have been able to bleed him. She still shouldn’t have had the power to summon the blood of a creature older than anything inhabiting the surface of the Earth.

But then she’d said she had help, hadn’t she? She’d said something about gaining power from darklings…whatever those were…something about… Goddess! If only he could think clearly, push aside the softness that blanketed his mind, making him long to sink back into the oblivion of sleep.

“I’m not even going to ask. I have too many questions,” she sighed, and through their bond he knew the weariness that had settled in her bones.

She needed rest and food, and perhaps a few hours of skin upon skin. No matter how broken he felt, he couldn’t wait to have Annie in his arms again, to feel her body gripping his cock, see her eyes bright with fire as he brought her to the pinnacle of pleasure again and again. He wanted to be as close to her as their separate skins would allow, to see how she would respond when he told her all that was in his heart, when he begged her to be his, to share the eternal waking life of the Underworld with him as his queen, his love.

“Annie, I-I wish I…” Namtar’s voice faltered. He was suddenly unsure of what words to use. For the first time since he was a boy newly sworn into Ereshkigal’s service, he couldn’t seem to think of the right thing to say.

“It’s all right.” Annie smiled shyly, her eyes avoiding his as she smoothed cool fingers over his brow. “We’ll talk once we’re safe.” She looked up as a pair of bright lights spun into the parking lot, and her car rumbled to a stop beside them. “Let’s get you spread out in the backseat. You can rest while I drive.”

“Yes, I think that would be best. But we must find a special place in which to hide, a place where our magic will not be—” Namtar’s mouth dropped open as the door to the car swung outward, revealing what had been driving the car. At least two dozen Sariesian demons filled the front seat, some of them not more than a hundred years of age by the looks of their chubby legs and dripping noses.

“We found it, Nannie.” One such infant tumbled onto the ground, giggling as it scrambled toward Annie, a giddy grin on its face.

“Good job. I’m very proud of you.” Annie reached over and patted the demon’s flank like a beloved pet. It purred and rubbed against her hip, smearing orange across the flowers on her dress. Namtar’s flesh crawled.

“It wasn’t hard, we could smell your person skin on the seat, Nannie.” Another little yellow demon scuttled over the first, vying for Annie’s touch.

“Nannie’s skin smells good, like char biscuits.” The first babe lapped its forked tongue across Annie’s wrist and shivered in delight.

If he were capable of movement, Namtar knew he would have slapped the creature away from her with every bit of strength in his body.

“What, by all that is sacred to the Goddess—”

“Lord Namtar, it is good to see you among the wakeful.” Titurus, leader of the Sariesians, hopped from the passenger’s seat of Annie’s car to the ground, though Namtar noted the creature stayed far enough away to be out of range should Namtar recover the power of his legs and aim a swift kick in his direction. He was no fool, Titurus. He had survived over a thousand seasons as leader of one of the weakest demon sects in Ereshkigal’s court through sheer cunning alone.

It was a pity his keen wits would not be sufficient protection against what Namtar would do to him once he recovered the strength to wrap his hands around the devil’s tiny throat.

“I trust your wounds are healing without undue pain?” Titurus’s gaze swept over him, looking for places where Namtar’s ancient blood might still be flowing. Hoping for a taste, no doubt, the blood-sucking little bastard.

“What have you done, Titurus, that you assume you have the right to speak without first being spoken to?” If the violence in Namtar’s tone could wound, Titurus would be dead. Dead and rotted, wasting away until there was nothing left but a greasy yellow spot on the black pavement.

“Namtar, please,” Annie whispered, her eyes widening as she turned away from the devil babes snuggling at her feet. “The devils said I had power of the darkling sort, and so the darklings offered to help me free you from Samyaza.“

“Darklings?”

“We thought Sariesian might prove too difficult for her mortal tongue, my lord.” Titurus bowed as he spoke, practically scraping the ground with the top of his bulbous head, but the show of deference did not fool Namtar for a moment.

“You thought to align yourself with her immortal power is the more likely option, Titurus.” Namtar struggled to a seated position, unable to tolerate being looked down upon by a pack of yellow demons for a second longer. “Know that if you are mistaken, it will be the last mistake you ever make.”

“She is darkling, my lord. The taste of her power assures it. A dark Grigori was her sire, and a powerful one at that. She has a great excess of magic spilling from her aura.”

“For your people’s sake, you should pray that it is so. Because if I find you are wrong in your assumption, if anything wicked should befall Annie because of whatever bargain you have made, there will be no hell black enough to hide your wretched face.”

“Namtar!” Annie’s chastising tone did nothing to slow his speech or his attempts to stand on legs that were far from ready to support his weight.

“I will track you down, you and each of your fiendish offspring,” Namtar said, groaning at the agony that shot through his thighs. He gripped the side of the car to keep from tumbling back to the ground. “I will make you long for a death such as those Ereshkigal dealt to Ensufucse of the Oldos clan. I will—”

“Namtar, stop it!” Annie grabbed his arm and pulled it around her shoulders, helping support him though at the moment she looked as if she would rather slap him across the face than guide him gently into the back seat of the car. “You and I would probably both be dead if the darklings hadn’t offered to help. Quit being an ass.”

“I will quit being an ass when you quit assuming you know what is best.”

“Right, I forget, a woman could never know what’s best.”

“Not when it comes to dealing with a pack of bloodthirsty parasites!” Namtar wanted to take Annie in his arms and flee this place, these devils, and anything else that might dare hurt her, but instead he was forced to slump down into the backseat of the car as Annie pushed him away from her.

“They are not parasites!” she shouted, dark eyes flashing.

“They most certainly are!” Namtar roared back, grateful to feel the strength returning to his mind if not yet his body. “They eat dark power and if I know that villain there as I think I do, I’m sure he asked for your blood before he gave his aid. Am I correct?”

She hesitated for the barest moment, confirming his suspicions before she even spoke. “Yes, you are.”

“Damnation, I knew these wretched little—”

“But I don’t care. And they’re not wretched. I like them!”

“You like them! Have you run mad, woman?”

“Maybe I have, but yes, I do, I like them.” Annie yelled, topping his own volume and making the smaller yellow devils flinch. One or two of their tiny faces scrunched with the beginnings of tears. “Besides, I would have let every last one of them suck my blood if it was the only way to save your life.”

Silence stretched between them for a few seconds, thick with the implications of what she had just said, with what those words might mean for the both of them, for their future.

“Annie Theophilus,” Namtar said, his voice soft, shaking, betraying the sudden nerves that consumed him.

“Yes?” she asked, her lips parted and breath coming faster, as if she felt the emotion that surged through him as he prepared to say the words he had never dreamt he would say to any woman.

“I-I love you.” It wasn’t at all how he would have hoped to make such a profession. He was still scowling and being observed by a few dozen demons, and both he and Annie were covered in blood and dirt. But he didn’t want another moment to pass by without her knowing what was in his heart.

Seconds ticked by, then minutes, the parking lot silent except for the soft sniffles of the baby demons and the creaking of leather as the devils in the front seat turned to peek over into the back, observing Namtar and Annie with undisguised curiosity.