Redemption (A NOVEL OF THE SEVEN SIGNS) (14 page)

Above, shutters banged, a light hurriedly extinguished. Did humans still live there? Probably not for long. On the corner, under a pink neon sign that read FLOSSIES, a pair of muties huddled, slapping each other listlessly with misshapen arms. One had tentacles instead of hands, boneless flesh that flapped limply. Not vampires, or zombie virus victims. Just inbred muties, their genes poisoned by poverty and neglect.

“See those guys?” Japheth pointed with his blade. “Them, I feel sorry for. That’s a crappy deal they never asked for. Your lot? They made a choice.”

“Is that a fact?”

He flashed his knife away, shrugging his armor loose. “Good versus evil isn’t rocket science. You were weak. You don’t get a second chance.”

“Right.” Rose shoved hands in pockets, defiant. “And what choice did you make, Japheth of the Tainted? Why’d they kick you out? Did you covet your neighbor’s ass, or something?”

“‘Ass’ means ‘donkey,’” he said stonily. “Do I look like I… Oh, forget it,” he muttered. He’d walked right into that one. “You’re worse than Dashiel.”

She snickered, triumphant. “Who’s Dashiel? Your holy-shit boyfriend?”

The guy who’ll kick my feathered butt to hell’s edge when he finds out I let you live.
“Someone you’d better hope you never meet. Now tell me about this Caliban.”

She shrugged. “If you insist. He’s one of the first ones Fluvium made. Some people even say he’s from before.”

“Before what?”

“You know, the Apocalypse? Like, maybe he’s been around a while. Fluvium’s old best buddy.”

“Just as charming a taste in boyfriends as you, then.”

A scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, I’ve met your
master
—” He whetted the word with scorn, and watched her flush. “And he’s a gutless, whining rat with no honor. Well done on that. He’s a real catch.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied coolly. “And what does that make you, angel? Clinging to your precious heaven’s skirts? Promising forgiveness when there’s no such thing? I’d call that some pretty shitty honor.”

Japheth eyed her coldly. “I’d never promise you forgiveness,
vampire
. You already threw it away.”

Her gaze stormed. “You weren’t there. You don’t know anything about me.”

“Why are we even having this conversation? I needn’t justify myself to you. You’re cursed. That’s all I need to know.”

“Yeah. Because judging people is what you do, isn’t it? You and your heavenly pals. Who cares if you’ve got all the facts? You’re always right.” Rose folded her arms, her eyes crackling
with eerie black light. “Well, screw you. Bring on the End, asshole. I’m gonna laugh my hell-cursed butt off while Satan devours you all.”

Japheth’s muscles clenched hard, all over. He should shove her blasphemy down her throat. But his chest stung inside, tiny razors slicing his heart.

He knew what judgment felt like. He’d taken it full force, the day Michael smashed his face into the dirt. He’d spent the centuries since trying to earn forgiveness.

But Rose had surrendered to a demon. Let him creep into her heart, to satisfy her lust for flesh or power, and she didn’t show one scrap of remorse. It wasn’t the same.

Was it?

He brushed past, avoiding her gaze. “I’m over the insults. Can we take them as read?”

“Oh, there’s a lot more where those came from.”

He shot her a cold glare. “Don’t forget you’re wearing my mark. Without my protection, you’re mincemeat.”

“And without my help, you’re one demon prince short. I can say what I want.” She stepped closer, taunting him with a toe-curling smile. “Coward. Loser. Heaven’s frigid little buttboy. Is that big fat sword compensating for something? No wonder you can’t ever get laid…ooh, that hit home, didn’t it?” She laughed. “Celibacy was the worst idea your lot ever came up with. You’re a big quivering pile of sin waiting to happen. Why don’t you just jump me and get it over with?”

Up for a fight, was she? He’d give her one. A long, hard, breathless fight, flesh on naked flesh, blood and salt and sweet sighs…

“If I ever ‘jump’ you, Rose Harley, it won’t be with sin in mind,” he snarled, and spun away.

But perfidious heat tortured him. He surely had sin in mind right now. Pin her down. Strip her weapons away, one by one, until she lay naked beneath him in surrender…

Rose laughed. “You keep telling yourself that, angel. I’m gonna have you. I’ll catch you off guard, mark my words. Before this is finished, you’ll be screaming in hell with the rest of us, and your precious heaven won’t give a damn.”

Michael’s words repeated in him like bile, ever more acidic for the truth:
I could kick your rebellious ass to hell right now and no one in heaven would blink
…

Japheth clenched his jaw so hard it popped, and he threw a silent prayer skywards.
I’ll kill her when I’m done, I swear. Just give me the will to resist her.

But only chilly silence greeted him.

He was on his own.

Damnation was a two-way street. No one could save him. Only his own icy will.

Fine. He’d resist her if it killed him. Oblivion was better than hell. Better to die Tainted than damned.

He strode up to her, sweeping his wings back. Her height was considerable, for a once-human woman, but he still had to look down to capture her gaze, and his muscles swelled warm with power. He was bigger than her. Stronger.

But any advantage was a dangerous illusion.

“Warning noted,” he said coldly. “Now here’s one for you. I’m kind of task-focused right now. My forbearance has limits. So don’t test me. Don’t look at me in some way I don’t like. And don’t even think about hell-spelling me, or I swear to God, I’ll stab you through your devil-rotted heart and chance the consequences.”

“Save it. You don’t scare me.” She laughed, mocking, but her eyes clouded, and a tiny quiver softened her arrogant smile.

Well, hello.
That crack in her armor intrigued him, like a drug delicious and forbidden. It made her…vulnerable. Feminine.

Breakable.

And the primitive, brutal male creature that fired his instincts burned to protect this woman. To cherish her, hold her close, claim her as his own…

“See?” Her lips shone in crimson moonlight, her eyes shimmering. “You don’t need to threaten me. Let’s be friends. I can’t harm you. I’m just a girl.”

Loose hair drifted against her bruised cheek. He wanted to brush it away. His fingers jerked upwards an inch…

Icy glitter showered from his wings, a cold crackle of reality.
That wasn’t a hellspell. That was his own goddamn weakness.

“You’re not a girl, Rose Harley.” Cruelty stung cold poison into his mouth, and like all the best poisons, it tasted good. “You’re a monster. You always were. The hellcurse just makes it more obvious.”

Pain lit scarlet in her eyes.

Gotcha.
At last, he’d found a weak spot…but his heart contracted, stinging.

He should press his advantage, rub it in like salt on bloody flesh. But for a bright, shocking instant, he wanted to take it back.

Comfort her, stroke her hair, whisper warm secrets. Make all that guilty fury go away.

He spun away, sweating. Compassion be damned. She wasn’t a woman. She was hellspawn. And if he forgot it, she’d be worse than the death of him.

CHAPTER 11

You son of a bitch.

Rose’s stomach knotted tight.
Screw him. He knows nothing about me.

But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Memories assaulted her, the clotted crimson stains on Bridie’s bedsheets, the screaming horror when she discovered what she’d done. Fluvium’s dark laughter, burning her lips in smoky candlelight.

She could’ve walked away, that night. Gone home, tucked Bridie into bed, forgotten the whole thing.

But she hadn’t. Japheth was right. She’d let the demon take her. Let him seduce her away from her life, just when things had been looking up. Her first on-Broadway show, part of the dance company, even a principal role in one number. Her career was taking off, money was coming in, Bridie was finally sleeping through the night without crying for her mommy.

But it hadn’t been enough. Rose had craved excitement, peril, the exotic caress of a stranger.

She’d thrown it all away on a whim. Killed Bridie for want of cheap thrills. What kind of monster did that make her?

Stupid tears stung her eyes. Japheth didn’t look at her. Just settled his gilded feathers, muscles clenched tight. Frosty anger, controlled, his glacial eyes glittering.
Asshole
.

Rose swiped away her tears, and cracked off the guilt like tarnish.

Fine. Let him despise her, let him make her feel as worthless as he liked. She had a job to do. Lure him to the darkness. Feed Fluvium his soul, and watch him scream. What she’d done was done. Being sorry for it didn’t make one spit of difference.

God had taught her that.

She dragged her hair back, and walked up behind him. Even from this distance, his powerful heat tingled her skin, musky male fury overpowering the cloying incense of angel.

It was alluring, she’d give him that. A make-you-look, take-me-home-baby perfume. Arrogant bastard. Why couldn’t he stink, like the rest? Too easy to forget he was a lying son of heaven.

Well, she wouldn’t forget again. No matter how sexy he smelled.

She pointed over his shoulder, between overhanging trees to where a streetlight spilled eerie yellow shadows. “See that building? Red brick, with the black window bars? That’s Caliban’s lair.”

Japheth cracked his knuckles, shedding blue sparks. “Fine. Let’s go get.”

“Wait,” she said hastily. His filthy mark still burned her forehead. The idea of a hundred hostile vamps chilled her bones. If she died before Fluvium granted her that reprieve from hell…

Japheth sighed, impatient. “What?”

“He’s a powerful Chosen. He’s got an army of minions waiting to slaughter us. How are you planning to get in there?”

He flicked sardonic feather tips at her. “Through the window, of course. I can fly, remember?”

Rose laughed, shaky. “Not to Caliban’s. He’s a vampire, not an idiot. How d’you think he’s evaded your surveillance all this time?”

A frown. “Explain.”

She should have been triumphant. But his naivete just scared her. “His lair’s in the basement, dumbass! Out of the sun, away from you lot. Oh, and locked beneath five floors of hungry vampires who want us dead. How’s your plan looking now?”

*   *   *

Japheth shrugged. “Like a bit more fun. That’s all.”

But his blood shifted, uneasy. Clever hellspawn, hiding underground. Japheth was a creature of air, wind, stars. He didn’t like dank places beneath the earth. Hot thick darkness, clogging his throat, all that weight crushing in to smother him…

Determined, he shook it off. No matter. He still had a few tricks to play.

Assuming Rose wasn’t lying. Undermining his confidence, leading him into a trap. But he’d seen her eyes, when she spoke of this Caliban. Sensed her quickening breath, her fragile heartbeat, the subtle darkening of her scent. Caliban aroused something in her, and it wasn’t desire or hunger.

More like…desperation.

But was she desperate to return to him? Or desperate to stay away?

“Fun?” Rose’s eyes narrowed. “Are you insane? We’ll be pinned down, top and bottom. Who’s got the death wish now?”

“I guarded the church walls while Alaric burned Rome. Think I’ve never stormed a fortress before? You ready, or shall I leave you behind?”

She folded her arms, defiant. “Ready? For a suicide mission? No, I’m not bloody well ready—”

“Just shut up and follow orders.” He dragged her along to the street corner, across from Caliban’s building. Overhanging branches hid them from view. Through the leaves, his quick gaze dissected the problem. Five floors, tall iron-barred windows, fire escapes zigzagging down crumbling red walls. Front door, hardened glass and bars, shrouded in darkness. Whatever. Locks were no barrier. The stink, on the other hand…blood and shit, ripe vampire stench. A few isolated human screams. Probably, the monsters were eating.

He whispered a holy charm, and his spine tingled, apprehensive. His gifts were fragile, dependent on heaven’s grace, and he’d wallowed in enough filth tonight to earn a kick in the ass. Would this be the night they deserted him?