Hotter Than Hell (16 page)

The goddess inclined her head. “Wait in Aedan’s quarters while the Council makes its determination.”

“Thank you,” Ericka said just before her stomach dropped to her toes and the room spun.

She no longer stood on the marble floor.

Her feet touched down on grass. The dizziness vanished as she caught her balance and took in the chamber she’d been sent to. Aedan’s room.

The sense of the surreal accompanied her as she explored the chamber. A waterfall tumbled over stones in one corner of the room, adding the clean scent of water to the smells of grass and moss covering the rock walls.

She stepped past the large bed carved from rock that had a mattress in it.

No. Where he slept before
…

She couldn’t even finish the thought. Only positive thoughts from here on out. The Council
would
rule in her and Aedan’s favor. She didn’t know what would happen next, but she wasn’t going to give up hope.

Ericka stopped in front of one of several pools around the room. Colorful fish glimmered in the water—some she was familiar with, like angelfish and Japanese koi. But others she didn’t remember seeing before. At the Rainforest Café, they had the coolest aquariums—

“I don’t believe it.” She tipped her head back to see a star-filled night sky above her. “Aedan’s burning alive
right now
, I’m in some strange Otherworld, and I’m thinking about
fish.
”

Ericka bit the inside of her cheek and glanced at the bed. Heart and soul heavy, she moved to the bed and perched on the edge of a straw-filled mattress. She stared at the wall across from her, tracing cracks in the stone with her gaze.

She’d made the right decision. No doubt about it. No matter what happened.

AEDAN HAD NEVER KNOWN SUCH PAIN EXISTED.
He could barely choke back screams from the never-ending sensation of his flesh burning away.

The demons had chained him to jagged volcanic rock. The iron manacles seared his flesh. He ground his teeth as boiling lava splashed his legs and blasts of flame singed his chest and face. Sweat immediately dried in the beyond-terrifying heat.

Screams, shrieks, and sobs echoed from every direction. His gut twisted at the thought that
he
was responsible for so many of the people who now spent an eternity here. Mafia bosses and gang leaders, murderers, psychopaths, rapists, thieves—those he didn’t regret as much as he did the innocents.

Had he ever been given a choice to do anything but take souls? No. He was what he was created to be, an Incubus who served the gods. Choice never entered his mind.

He had never given a second thought to what happened to the souls once he retrieved them—until Ericka.

Her name echoed in his mind and he tried to focus on her instead of the blistering pain. The fall of her red hair against her pillow, the intense blue of her eyes, the perfect feel of her thighs around his hips.

But more than that was all he had witnessed when he studied her before he began visiting her each night. Her love for her family, her dedication, her tenacity, her kindness, her joy.

Aedan couldn’t help fighting against his searing bonds, even though it did no good. Even the air he breathed burned his lungs as he kept his thoughts on Ericka.

He had never understood why he had been sent to her until now. It had been a test. A test he had failed.

Two demons appeared in front of Aedan. They unshackled him, grabbed him under his arms, and dragged him through great pools of lava. He couldn’t help a shout from the excruciating pain.

Surprise shot through him as the demons took him to the entrance to the Realm of the Dead and tossed him out of the flames and into the cool tunnel. His head struck rock and his mind spun, but relief from no longer being in the Realm was immediate. The memory of the pain still caused him to feel like his skin was burning, but it was slowly fading.

He stumbled as the demons took him under his arms again and forced him to his feet before prodding him to walk. “What—what is going on?”

No one
ever
left the Realm of the Dead.

The demons ignored Aedan and caught him when his legs gave out. They pulled him through the passageway and into the Hall of the Lost that now seemed chilly. He could barely focus as they dragged him along the cool marble floor.

His vision wavered and time lost meaning. Then the demons arrived at his chamber. More shock prickled his skin when the demons pushed open the door and shoved him into his quarters.

Aedan landed on his knees on the thick grass and rested his forehead in his palms. Trying to catch his breath as the demons slammed the door, he breathed in the sweet scent of grass and water and…vanilla?

“Aedan!”

He jerked his head up.

His mind could not process what he was seeing—Ericka rushing across the chamber to him.
A hallucination
, he thought until she reached him, dropped to her knees, and flung her arms around him.

He almost toppled from the force of her throwing herself against him, but he recovered enough to hold her tight.

“Oh, God.” Tears trickled down her cheeks and slid onto his chest. “Or gods or goddesses. Whoever brought you to me.”

Ericka’s words shocked him to his senses and he grabbed her by her upper arms. “What are you doing here?” he growled as he stared at her beautiful face. “Have they taken you? What have they done?”

“I’m okay.” She caressed his cheek as her blue eyes met his. “I came for you.”

“No.” He gripped her arms so tight she winced and he immediately relaxed his hold. “You will return. Where you will be safe.”

“I-I have something to tell you.” Ericka cleared her throat then words spilled from her lips. “I’ve told your gods and goddesses that I’m giving you half of my soul. And all my love.”

“Half of your soul?” Aedan’s whole body tensed. He could not have heard right. “
Are you daft?
”

“I realized you mean too much to me to let you go. And I couldn’t let you be sent there.” She hurried before he could say anything else. “Your Council…Belisma went to them to determine what will happen to both of us.”

“No. I will not allow you to suffer in any way.” He shook his head. “You
will
go home.”

Belisma appeared like the crest of a wave.

She spun into Aedan’s quarters with the grace and power of the rapids of a river.

Aedan refused to release Ericka to bow to the goddess.

“Rise, Aedan of the Incubae.” Belisma’s voice was surprisingly soft.

He eased to his feet, holding Ericka tight to him.

“The Council made its decision on your fate and Ericka’s,” Belisma said, no expression revealing whatever emotions she might have.

“Because a mortal has offered half of her soul to you, and because you have earned her unconditional love, you are spared the fate of the Realm of the Dead.” She smiled and added, “You will return to Ericka’s world and you will live as a mortal. You may walk in the daylight, take a wife, and reproduce.”

“He can come back with me?” Ericka’s voice was one of both disbelief and excitement.

“It is so.” Belisma’s gaze returned to meet Aedan’s. “You will be given what papers and human things you need to live in the mortal world. You will age and you will die and you will forget your life as an Incubus.

“Or,” Belisma continued, “you may go to Annwn and continue to live as an immortal. The choice is yours.”

Aedan had difficulty finding the right words as he looked at the beautiful woman still cradled against him. “If she will have me, I would choose to live a mortal’s life with Ericka.”

“What do you mean, if I’d have you?” Ericka turned and threw her arms around his neck. “I love you, Aedan. I’ll have you any way I can get you.”

She kissed him hard and hungry and he returned the kiss just as passionately. So much so that his thoughts spun and he heard only the pounding of their hearts.

Aedan jerked his eyes open and his head up when his feet no longer touched grass but smooth tile. It took a moment for him to realize they were in Ericka’s home. He almost laughed when he saw glass tanks now lining one wall—tanks filled with water and his collections of fish.

When he looked at Ericka, she was grinning and his smile widened.

“Your eyes are brown now, not gold.” Ericka stroked his cheek. “They’re beautiful.”

Aedan had nearly forgotten Belisma. He turned to see if she had accompanied them, but she hadn’t. Even the ever-present veil was gone.

For a moment he felt lightheaded and stumbled forward.

Ericka caught him by his shoulders, her expression concerned. “What’s wrong?”

He looked at her and this time he did laugh. “I think I’m feeling…human.”

“Wow,” she murmured. “My own demon lover.”

Aedan settled his hands on her hips. “Your human lover, you mean.”

Her expression grew serious. “I love you.”

Aedan took her face in his hands and kissed her hard. He separated his mouth from hers and whispered against her lips, “I love you, Ericka Roberts. For all of our years. I love you.”

SHE OPENED HER EYES, LISTENING TO THE OTHER
goddess murmurs in the moonlight. It took a moment to adjust her thoughts and her understanding to the new era, to the new languages being spoken, to the new weapons available for her use. She sat up slowly, quietly, as a deep sadness claimed her and then shuddered in horror as she became aware of all that had been done.

Silent tears cascaded down her high, regal cheekbones. She tossed a thicket of dark, brunette hair over her caramel shoulders and stood wide-legged, naked and majestic, in a warrior’s stance. Her bow in a tight grip, her quiver filled with deadly arrows, she peered down into the still mountain pool that shimmered like glass.

“I, daughter of the Nubian queen, Leto, a Titan revered in all of Greece, and begat by the Greek god, Zeus, stand I the twin and sister of Apollo—Artemis—and
vow
by my bow and arrows created by the great Hephaestus and the Cyclopes to avenge this injustice against the wilderness! What have they done?”

Vincent D’Jardin rubbed his palms down his face in weary agitation. How the hell his commanding officer had found him at his favorite bar way out here made every muscle coil in his body with tension. But that’s what they did in their profession—find people who didn’t want to be found. Still, it wasn’t right. They’d said after the Delta job in Miami, he’d have some time off. Vincent locked gazes with Major Harcourt for a moment before returning his angry glare to his bourbon. This was bullshit.

“I know,” the major said, sliding onto a barstool next to Vincent and hailing the bartender for a beer. “That’s why I came myself.”

“What’s the job and for how long?” Vincent didn’t look at the man beside him, just took a surly sip from his drink.

The major slid an arrow tip across the bar toward Vincent. “I figured with your background, you might be able to shed some light on this.” He sat back eyeing him. “You’ve heard about them, I’m sure.”

Vincent let out an agitated breath. He’d been undercover in Miami, not under a rock. Who hadn’t heard about the kooks who were abducting CEOs of major mining and lumber firms without a trace and simply leaving dead stags shot up with bronze arrows? From Wall Street to the Amazon, work sites had been disrupted and dead stags had been left everywhere.

It was a seriously vexing puzzle—who could get a twelve-point stag into Wall Street office buildings, past security cameras, without a trace, and then butcher it? To his way of thinking, that ruled out environmentalists. They wouldn’t sacrifice the animal. Had to be terrorists trying to leave some coded message.

But he took grave offense at the assumption that, because the perpetrators worked with arrows as their calling card, he should have some insider knowledge. Vincent stared at the unfamiliar shape that was a three-dimensional cone that was designed to leave a gaping hole in the victim, as well as briefly studied the strange etchings on the sides, then took a slow sip of his bourbon, considering how he would answer.

“You run the markings by the foreign languages boys?” he asked, looking at the arrowhead again but not touching it. Vincent glanced up into his CO’s impassive blue eyes. “Or the guys that specialize in antiquities—or did you think the Owiqwidicciat would have some special Native American insight through his maternal DNA about freakin’ arrows?” He narrowed his glare on the major, becoming more pissed off as he thought about it. “Or, maybe, it would be because my father was French Haitian…perhaps I could check with a voodoo priest and get back to you?”

Major Harcourt sighed and took a swig of beer to wet his dry throat. “Gimme a break, D’Jardin, and drop the chip on your shoulder while you’re at it. I know you’re pissed off about us recalling you so soon for another job, but it doesn’t have anything to do with heritage. You’re the best man for the situation, given where these Artemis bastards are tracking.” He leaned in closer. “Yeah, we decoded it off the arrowheads, and it’s ancient Greek—so we’ve got some Mediterranean assassins, go figure.”

“I’d rather not,” Vincent said, coolly assessing his CO. “I’m on leave, remember? You promised me a month.”

Dismissing the comment, Harcourt pressed on. “You ever heard of this terrorist group, D’Jardin? We can’t figure out if they’re a splinter cell, an individual cell, a gang, bandits just out for financial gain by kidnapping the wealthy, or what. But they’re cutting a swath through Yukon country, crossing international boundaries from the U.S. to Canada and back again using the wilderness as camouflage, and headed—we think—toward pipeline outposts up in Alaska. It hasn’t been publicized yet for obvious reasons, and we were able to cite the Wall Street incident as an isolated, possibly organized-crime-related event…just like we could clean up the other situations that happened on foreign soil, keeping certain details out of the media and on a need-to-know basis. However, they’ve abducted an oil baron…that got presidential attention. Now the powers that be, who are much higher than you or I, want this problem to go away very quickly and very quietly, with a good group to pin it on. No matter what, terrorists did it. That’s the only reason I came to you. We clear?”