Her Demon Prince (Forbidden Fantasy) (17 page)

"Then you'll recognize
hatred." She watched as the bruises on his face vanished before her eyes.
He was using her, taking her emotions to heal and there was nothing she could
do about it.

Galaden held out a hand to her
but she backed away. "Come Phoebe, there was a time when you found
pleasure in my company, a comfort in your loneliness."

"I will never stop
fighting you," she said through gritted teeth. "I will die fighting
you." Please
God,
help me beat this angel, she
prayed.

Galaden's eyes widened and
disbelief painted his face. "Enough! It makes little sense for you to
fight me when you cannot win. Though it gives me a modicum of pleasure when you
rail at me because it charges every cell in my body, I do not like fiery women.
I remember now that when you were first mine you fought against me, railed at
me for the loss of the demon prince, blamed me for his punishment, but you
quieted when the child came. You were a wonderful mother and I was grateful for
it."

Shock hit her. The child?
"What child?"

"Your son, Daniel. You
cared for me after Daniel was born. Trusted me. I hoped I would not have to do
this, force you to recall your memories when time to save Rachael is pressing.
Understand this, Princess, you will obey me and help me find my love."

"Get away from me."
She tried to scrabble to her feet as he bent over her. She'd had a child? Was
it with Galaden? The very thought was sickening.

He took her face between his
hands and stared into her eyes until the intense blue of his irises was all she
could see. She gripped his hands with her own, trying to prize his fingers from
her face. In vain, she kicked out at him but despite his lithe build, he was
too strong.

"Look at me," he
ordered. His words seemed to thunder in her brain. The invading sensation was
unbearable as if the top of her head was being ripped off and all her thoughts
examined. Black dots appeared in front of her eyes and her body went limp.

943
BC Galaden’s Palace

“I have a gift for you,
concubine,” Galaden said, walking toward her. In his hands, he held a necklace
encrusted with precious gems. Phoebe put her swaddled baby into the carved
wooden crib, touching her son’s cheek as she did so. Her baby, Daniel, opened
his eyes and on seeing their moss-green color, she smiled. The baby had wisps
of brown hair and creamy skin. “You are good to me, my lord. I thank you for
your kindness.”

“You have born a
son with limbs so strong, he will make a fine warrior,” he said, placing one of
his fingers in her son’s fists and pulling his finger away to test the baby’s
strength. Galaden bent over the crib and kissed the baby. As he did so, the
intense expression in his crystal-blue eyes softened.

"You are
kind to Daniel," she said.

"Every baby
is precious,"
Galaden
answered, the corner of his
lips turning up.

"I…I
thought when he was born, you would not want him in your palace." Worse,
she'd thought he'd kill Agrat's child, take him from his crib and slaughter
him.

The baby gurgled
and reached out to him.

Galaden stroked
the baby's cheek, the motion of his fingers tender. "You have always been
wary of me, concubine, but you have no reason to be so. I do not make war on
women and children. While I stay on this plane, your son is safe but I do have
a condition."

"Name
it." No matter what he asked, she knew that she would do it to keep her
son safe.

"Love my
son, Cassiel, in return. Every day I am grateful that Rachael and I managed to
keep his birth a secret from my father or he would have been put to death like
Rachael. I do not yet know how strong his angelic powers will be. He may not
live past human years."

"I already
do," she said, her lips turning up at the thought of the little angel
child with his glistening blond hair and magnificent azure wings; wings which
were too small for him to fly though he made the attempt often like a little
bird trying to leave the nest.

“There was never
a woman as gentle as my wife and I want Cassiel to know a mother's love as that
has been denied him. In return, I will stay your son's protector."

Something in her
died in that moment, knowing that Agrat's son would grow to love the angel as
his father and not the brave man who had given his life to defend her. Yet, she
realized her son was lucky to have Galaden as his protector, too. The angel,
though cool and slow to anger, did not have the vicious streak of his father,
the late king,
nor
the evil manipulative nature of his
mother. Agrat's enemies had advocated for her boy's death due to his heritage,
yet Galaden had stood firm. The child would not suffer for the sin of the
father.

"Thank you.
You are good to me," she said, relieved that Daniel was safe.

"I vow that
I will treat Daniel as my own, love and train him as a warrior alongside
Cassiel." He picked the baby up and held him close.

Phoebe had never
seen Galaden so content as when he was in the nursery. In the clear morning
light, he looked like a simple proud father, not the stern angel determined to
hang on to an empire as difficult to contain as the shifting desert sands.

On the day that
Agrat had been turned to stone, the angel had promised he would look after her
and he had been true to his vow.

Even after one
year of living in this foreign, hot land, the sight of the army returning from
battle with their evil distorted faces and their swords dripping blood still
chilled her to the bone. Memories of what it had been like to be hunted by them
still haunted her. It was far better to be the friend of this new king of
twelve moons past than his enemy. She had only to utter a desire and it was
hers.

Perhaps he
thought his kindness made up for the loss of her prince. Nothing and no one
could replace Agrat, but the birth of her son had eased the pain. Although
Galaden hated Agrat, it had not been him who had turned her beloved to stone, a
curse worse than death. For that, and the safety of her son, she could live
with him.

Phoebe stood
close to Galaden watching the careful way he held her son. "When did your
brother, the prince, show his powers?"

“After his
birth, my father, the late king, ordered his demon wife's death because she
warred against him, refused to obey his will. Agrat was left at my father’s
door. No nurse would feed him after he drew blood from a wet nurse. She died
from fever soon after. He screamed for many days and nights until he was given
milk from a horned goat. His eyes glowed when he was angry even as a newborn,
but when I joined him in the nursery my presence calmed him. Be grateful that
Daniel does not show Agrat's wild character.”

Phoebe felt
inside the baby's mouth, relieved when her son sucked gently on her finger and
not with such force as to draw blood. She missed Agrat's passion and energy,
but said nothing. “His nurse has not complained. She says the boy feeds well.”

“That pleases
me,” he said. "I pray he will know happiness in the nursery."

Phoebe saw
sadness in Galaden’s face as he gazed at her small son whose coloring was
lighter than Agrat's though he looked like him. Once in a moment of reflection,
the angel had told her that his younger years with Agrat had been the happiest
of his life.

“Cassiel adores Daniel
already,” he added.

"Cassiel
has longed for company in the nursery," she said.

"I am glad
my son knows how to love. His nature comes from his mother," he added
wistfully.

Phoebe glanced
at him, seeing vulnerability cross his features. He was not a man of emotion,
rarely conversing with her about his past and she was surprised by his
admissions. “It is better when brothers love one another,” she said. It was as
close to a criticism as she could dare come after Galaden's betrayal of Agrat
and his theft of the prince's kingdom.

If he sensed
more meaning in her words, he didn't show it. He put Daniel down into his crib.
“I would like that for our sons.”

“I pray the boys
will love and protect each other.” Phoebe closed her eyes and took a deep
breath to stop her thoughts, but still the picture of Agrat remained, his face
one of desperation as he turned to stone. She would spend the rest of her life
mourning for him and praying for his salvation.

And
what of Galaden? He demanded nothing from her and she was grateful. Despite the
protests of his advisers, he refused to take another wife after Rachael.
Perhaps it was the only way he could punish his mother whom he believed could
have used her influence with the king to save Rachael's life, although the
order to cut her throat had been given by his father. At times, when he
suffered deep grief over Rachael, he cursed Agrat for betraying her. He was the
only one who knew about Galaden's love for Rachael outside of her family.
Phoebe would leave the room then, unable to bear criticism of her beloved. It
made
her own
grief more painful than ever.

Galaden opened
his wings, closed them around her and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you
for agreeing to mother Cassiel. I am glad that the boys will not know
loneliness like I have,” he said, his voice soft. “Thank you for bringing
companionship to my life. Know that while you are with me you will be safe. I
cannot give you the love you crave, but I hope you will find contentment and
care for me a little so that our sons will know what it is to live in a
peaceful household.” He lifted her hair so that he could place the necklace
around her throat.

Although she
submitted to his ministrations, her heart beat with a slow dull thud; she could
not love Galaden either though he was kind to her, but she was grateful for his
care and the stability his protection offered her and Daniel.

When Galaden
made a vow he kept it.

Chapter 13

The arrow of silver that
carried Phoebe’s prayers in this lifetime arrived in one of the angelic realms.
Angel Cassiel, the son of Prince Galaden and Rachael, caught it, deciphered the
message, spread his wings and flew to the temple portico where Prince Agrat and
Phoebe's son, Daniel, was growing red fireballs in one hand and juggling them.
"Quit playing, Dan. My father has stopped hiding out in the wastelands.
He's in New York and he's kidnapped your mother. It's serious. He's told her of
the vow he made to our grandfather, the old king."

Daniel
extinguished the fireballs. His moss-green eyes widened with dismay. "He's
told her he's going to kill her? He cared for her. You and Phoebe were the only
ones that kept him going after your mother was murdered."

"He loved
you too, Dan. Raised you as his own," Cassiel said. "But for my kind,
a vow must be served or we turn to stone."

"The lesson
is, don't agree to vicious vows in anger. Show me that." Daniel held out
his hand.

"Unfortunately
my kind must do the will of our creator." Cassiel handed the arrow to his
cousin and best friend. He watched as his dark-haired cousin's fingers moved
over the arrow shaft, his brow creased as he focused on interpreting the
angelic message in the way Cassiel had taught him. Through their different
inheritances the angel and the elemental demon had divergent skills, but Phoebe
had brought them up so lovingly in her past life, they'd taught each other
everything they knew.

"This looks
bad," Daniel said, his moss-colored eyes glowing a vivid green with worry.
He rubbed his hand over his thick, cropped mahogany hair.

"I knew
this would come to a head the moment your mother bought the statue. She just
couldn't leave it alone."

"She loved
my father. She told me so many stories about him when I was young. She prayed
every day that she could find some way to release him from his stone prison.
She took me to visit him in the palace and I'd press my face against the statue
and tell him how much I loved him," Daniel said, running his fingers along
the shaft of the arrow in order to further read the message inscribed on it.

"Phoebe's
dedicated. She insisted I love you, even after you'd set my wings on
fire."

Daniel grinned
and flicked a fireball at him and the angel froze it, his movement so fast it
was impossible to see. "It's not my fault you're so feathery. I was
improving your reflexes. You used to move so slowly."

"Not
anymore." He sent an ice-colored ball at Daniel's head.

Daniel raised
his hand without even glancing in Cassiel's direction and the sphere fizzled
out. "Still too slow." He grinned. The smile dropped from his face as
his fingers moved further up the silver arrow shaft. "Oh shit, Cassiel,
there's another prayer here. My mother is praying for Rachael, too. It's
bad."

"How
bad?" King Sol had ordered his mother, Rachael's death just after he had
been born, but the link from being held and loved by her still remained with
him.

"I'm going
to call upon the elements to open a portal so I can see what's going on." Daniel
strode over to the temple's crystal pool and stared into the water. "Great
ancestor, Warrior of Water, open the crystal portal so that I may see."
The water shimmered. He waved his hand over the top and it stilled.

Cassiel joined
him, glad that Daniel could access the crystal pool portal because scrying,
seeing into another dimension, didn't come easily to him. Being of part human
descent on his mother’s side meant he had to train long and hard to learn the
skills that came to angels easily, but he had enormous curative powers from
Rachael which
Daniel didn't have. "What can you
see?"

"Rachael's
sick. She's in one of earth's modern day healing centers and they don't know
how to fix her. Galaden's been using her
life-force
to
charge. She needs your healing powers, Cass. When your father fucks up, he does
it bad."

Cassiel's brow
drew together and his broad shoulders bumped against Daniel's as he looked into
the pool to see Rachael lying on a hospital bed, a feeding tube in her nose.
"She isn't meant to pass over. This life is meant to be happy, a reward
life for all her healing services from her past life. This'll be yet another
black mark against Dad." He straightened. "I need to get down there
fast."

Daniel waved his
hand over the pool. The image changed to that of Agrat surrounded by his
enemies. "Oh man. My dad is in serious trouble, too. He needs back-up
fast."

"What's
going down?" Cassiel asked.

"My father
has asked my most unstable ancestor, Lightning, to help recharge him, but my
mother’s not there to make the charge go smoothly," Daniel said.
"Damn Lightning."

"Agrat must
have been desperate. Asking Lightning for help is like putting someone with
bipolar disorder on speed and asking them to be your drinking buddy,"
Cassiel said.

Daniel peered
closer into the crystal pool. "Dad is surrounded by the demon army Galaden
sent to kill him. We'd better get down there, cousin."

"Jeez, to
think my father taught us to love each other as brothers." Cassiel
stretched his wings; though they were shorter than he would have liked, they
did the job when he needed to fly. The tips were silver and his feathers the
color of the Mediterranean in summer. Silvery sparkles of sunlight fell from
his wings as he moved and they danced on the clouds below.

Daniel gave him
a fond look as he fastened on his breastplate, picked up his shield from the
temple floor and checked his dagger. "If I've learned anything from our
time in this dimension watching those on earth below, dysfunctional families
are good at giving advice but not taking it."

Cassiel slid his
sword into its sheath and shifted uneasily. "Especially ours."

Agrat's body slammed down on
the scorched earth, unable to move, unable to breathe as Lightning released him
from his grasp. Get to your feet, dammit, he told himself as he sensed the
demons moving in on him. His fingers twitched as he tried to open his hands but
his whole body was still contracting. This charge was raw, searing his nervous
system, far rougher than the last time he'd resorted to using Lightning's services.
When he forced his eyelids open, his eyeballs rolled from side to side as he
fought with his brain circuitry, trying to order it to still.

A dark shape
moved toward him and others remained just behind. Every sense in his body went
on alert. He detected demon energy, but not from his line of elemental demon
ancestry. This was different, more a sulfurous sore that festered on evil. He
recognized it immediately, just as he had three thousand years ago when his
father had put him in charge of the demon army, which now served Galaden.

“I've waited so
long for this moment.” Snarcus bent over him, his round fiery eyes glowing in
his monkey face, his thin lips sneering with menace. "You sent me to hell
for delivering the stolen whore back to the king."

"The Princess
is mine. You touch her, you die!" he grit out. His throat was so parched
he could barely speak.

"I burned
in hell for centuries. I begged the great Lucifer to permit me to come back and
torture you. I planned how I would carve you into pieces once I had you, drain
your blood and eat you."

"Get back
to hell." Agrat forced his limbs to move. Sparks flew off his arms and
legs, but while his muscles bulged with strength, they were still rigid,
refusing to let loose the fireball energy he needed to destroy Snarcus.

“You have to
have your head attached to your body to send me there," Snarcus cackled.

Would Snarcus
cleave his head from his body? Would Phoebe find him dismembered? He couldn't
die. He had to protect her.

Damn Lightning.
Where was he when he needed him to send these entities back to where they came
from? Why couldn't he summon his powers?

When Snarcus
lifted his sword with its evil twisted end, Agrat stared up into his face. He
forced himself to a kneeling position, desperately trying to reactivate his
mesmerizing skills to freeze the demon. His whole body convulsed and flared
with energy sparks at the movement and his mind was too scrambled to slow the
demon.

Snarcus reached
down and traced the sword across Agrat's chest and over his torso so that a
bright wheal of blood appeared. The monkey demon's gaze roved over Agrat. His
black tongued slithered out and he licked his lips. "I have you."

Agrat grimaced,
the muscles of his stomach tensing and lacing. He knew just what kind of slow
death this would be if he couldn't summon his dagger and shove it into the
demon's brain. He forced himself to focus on calling his dagger from its sheath
inside the house. Nothing. The dagger didn't materialize. It was as if
Lightning had over-charged him, short-circuiting his powers, leaving him
convulsing.

"Finally
you are mine." Snarcus knelt facing Agrat, leaned forward and lapped at
the blood on his chest, moaning with ecstasy.

"You. Will.
Die. For. This." With every effort, every iota of his concentration, he raised
a shaking hand and summoned his dagger. The faithful blade materialized in his
hand but the monkey demon grabbed and flicked it out of reach. Somewhere in the
darkness, he heard fighting break out as the demons struggled for it as if it
were a trophy.

When his
father's army had been under his command three thousand years ago, Agrat had
disciplined them within an inch of their lives. They had warred and conquered
tribes but he had not allowed them to unleash their cruelty on the hapless
conquered, especially not the women and children. Disobedience had meant
instant death and the prince had vaporized many who could not control their
demonic urges. For the first time in his life, he was powerless. He could sense
the mounting excitement at the challenge from his former second-in-command,
Snarcus.

Snarcus leaned
in right up to his face, his evil, rounded eyes glowing with triumph, his mouth
smeared with blood. "I always admired you as a General, but that whore
made you weak. You thought of love. You no longer relished killing."

"I killed
when necessary. I did my duty to protect my father's lands," he said.

"That
moment of death. I savored it. Lusted for it." Snarcus's head moved lower,
his tongue flicked out again and he licked along the line of fresh blood from
Agrat's nipple, down over his ridged torso to his belly.

The demons
around them howled in exhilaration.

Agrat summoned
every inch of the strength he could command and shoved him away, but Snarcus
gripped his shoulders sucking on the cut at his nipple, clearly enjoying his
domination of the prince.

A growl left
Agrat's throat, deep and furious. This time he shoved Snarcus back and forced
himself to a standing position, his naked form sending off sparks of light as
his whole body convulsed. Behind Snarcus, red eyes gleamed as the other demons
under Snarcus's command waited. One order from Snarcus and Agrat knew the
demons would tear him apart and feast on his corpse, wanting to take his
essence and his soul to Lucifer.

“You dare to
taste my blood?” Agrat formed a fist and slammed it into the demon’s face. He
could not command his flame balls to roast Snarcus, but the close contact and
the crunch of bone gave him pleasure.

Blood spurted
from the demon’s nose as he howled with anger and stabbed at Agrat with his
blade.

Agrat grunted
when the blade bit into his stomach and he doubled over. He didn't care how
many times Snarcus pierced his flesh, he would never ask for mercy. He would
die a warrior.

“You wish to
fight? You are lost.” Snarcus wiped the blood from his face with the back of
his hand. He laughed, the sound deep and chilling. “You have no charmed fire or
weapons to fight against me. My soldiers no longer fear you now that you cannot
use your powers to enforce your will on them. Even your feckless ancestor,
Lightning, has left you to die."

"We want to
taste him, Snarcus. Is his blood rich?" a demon asked.

"Is it
powerful?" The others crowded closer.

Agrat could
smell their fetid breath; feel their eyes burning into him. That Snarcus had
tasted his blood sickened him.

"He is
mine. Hold him," Snarcus ordered.

The demons moved
forward, gripping Agrat's arms and legs, their claws securing him in position.
Blood streamed from the wound in his torso over his abdomen and down his
thighs.

Snarcus bent
forward and lapped at it, his black tongue flicking in and out.

With his powers
refusing to reactivate, Agrat strained and struggled. He roared in fury at his
lack of power, fighting with the frenzy of the doomed. Sparks of red energy
flared off his body. In wrath, his energy should be toxic to demons, yet the
flares harmed them not.

Snarcus pulled
back too, but licked his lips. "Your blood carries your memories. The slut
loves to fuck. I will shove my forked cock into her just to see the agony on
her face."