Tears of Blood (19 page)

"I’m not the slut here, mother." Sarahi slashed with
her own claws and managed to open a wound on her mother’s arm. Lilith
stared at the blood in amazement. No one had attacked her directly in
millennia, not until today. That this second attacker was one of her own
daughters seemed remarkable... and infuriating. This time, she wouldn’t
miss. She aimed a powerful blow at the little demoness’s throat, and was
brought to a shuddering halt as her claws snared against steel. Lucien stood
tall and strong, his obsidian body a silhouette against the low afternoon sun
as he blocked her.

"You," she hissed. "I killed you!"

"Apparently not," Lucien said. "I feel fine. But I
need to have a word with you about my son."

"Hmm," Lilith moaned in a parody of ecstasy. "He was
goooood. Who would have guessed an angel would be so... skilled."

There was a painful sting in her leg. While she’d been distracted
by the naphil, Sarahi had attacked again, attempting to hamstring her. She
kicked out, sending the little succubus tumbling. Then she turned her attack to
Lucien, driving him back with a lightning-quick series of slashes and jabs. He
slowly gave ground, step by step, not engaging, just protecting himself from
injury.

He stumbled, going down hard on the hot sand, and Lilith was on him in
a moment, her fangs extending again. This time she would tear out his angel throat.
There would be no coming back.

She gagged as something sharp embedded in the inside of her wide open
mouth. Reaching in, she pulled out a steel throwing star. She looked up and saw
that same white-clad figure who had interfered with this kill before. This
time, though, the mask was gone, revealing the pretty face of a girl... There
was something strange about the taste of the young woman’s energy. It
tasted like... She flicked her tongue into the air. It tasted like Josiah.
Lilith ground her teeth in rage. This was the one, the one who had stolen her
prize. Another steel star flew at Lilith, and she dodged.

Once again, she’d forgotten Sarahi. The intrepid succubus rushed
her mother from behind, sinking claws into her back, digging for the spine.
Lilith roared and pulled her daughter off her, throwing her across the desert,
stalking after her.

A tall figure approached the fallen succubus and lifted her to her
feet.

"Josiah," Lilith hissed, "get away from her."

"She’s my mother," he gritted out through his teeth.

"And she abandoned you as an infant. She deserves nothing from
you. None of them do. They all hated and feared you for what you are. They
never let you be yourself. Only I did."

"You let me wallow in my basest urges. That’s not love,
it’s temptation. I want no more of it."

"I didn’t force it on you. You sought me out. It was what
you wanted."

"It was," he agreed, "but it isn’t anymore.
Annie!"

As Lilith watched, a cord of cloudy steel-gray energy shot past her.
She turned, seeing it connect to the white-clad girl, who lit up like the sun.
In the purity of her diamond clean aura, the dirty-looking energy turned to
pure silver.

"Lucien," she called, shooting a bolt of it to the naphil,
who caught it in one outstretched hand. He illuminated  like a piece of
thin obsidian when a light shines behind it.

"Sarahi," he shouted. Lilith whirled and saw her daughter
begin to sparkle like a chunk of rose quartz in the sun. Suddenly, the delicate
succubus seemed bigger, taller, stronger.

"Never come between a mother and her child," Sarahi said,
holding her claws before her threateningly, as she stood between her son and
the demon who had given birth to her.

Lilith surged forward across the sand, ready to tear her daughter limb
from limb. She reached out both hands and grasped... nothing. Sararhi had
dodged her again, rolling beside her. She turned, following the moment,
determined to put her long-standing mistake out of her misery. Sarahi surged to
her feet and Lilith struck out, but the angle was wrong. The girl had rushed
her, and instead of sinking claws into the unguarded belly, she only managed to
knock her off her feet. Lilith drew her arm back, ready to finish the job, but
she had been distracted once again. A sharp pain flared in her back. In her
rage, she had forgotten Lucien. The angel had circled behind her and driven his
sword into her spine. She roared, a hissing shriek like steam escaping from a
kettle. Another stab. Sarahi had risen to her knees and sunk her claws upwards
through the demoness’s belly, scrabbling behind her ribs, trying to get
to her heart. A strange buzzing, like a hive full of bees, sounded in her ears.
It was the thoughts of all her daughters, all her drones, all chattering and
murmuring at once.

Another movement snared her vision. Before her, that damned girl was
there again. Her brown eyes glittered, cold and hard as topaz in the desert
sunset as she raised a pistol, pointing it directly at Lilith’s skull
from close range.

She saw rather than heard the full lips form the words "Josiah is
mine." And then the finger squeezed. A white light flashed.
Lilith’s black aura closed in on her, covering the world in darkness.

Chapter 22

From his spot trapped against the trunk of the scrubby tree, Moses
Smith watched the desperate fight between his former mistress and his family.
The four of them, working in tandem, sharing strength, had achieved the
impossible. Lucien severed Lilith’s spine from behind as Sarahi pulled
out a throbbing morsel of flesh, which she clutched in blood-soaked fingers just
at the same moment his own precious granddaughter finished the job with a
perfect head shot.

Unable to sustain the three moral injuries, the demoness exploded.
Whereas succubae burst into golden dust,  Lilith’s combustion
resembled the force of a volcanic eruption, and the detritus of that blast fell
black as ash over the battlefield.

Stunned by the destruction of their leader, the succubae turned and
fled. Drones stumbled away after them, leaving the wounded and dead among the
remaining nephilim and Clerics. The battle was over. The powers of light had
won.

He watched awareness dawn on the men he had known, had led. As one they
began cheering, hugging each other and jumping up and down. He smiled. But why
was he still trapped? Why had Lilith’s energy net not dispersed with her
death? No matter. Someone would find him soon enough. For now, he was content
to watch.

The bonds of light which connected naphil, succubus, incubus, and
Assassin winked out and Sarahi collapsed to the ground. The poor girl had taken
the brunt of the blast, being so close to Lilith when she blew. Lucien also
fell.

Further back, Annie and Josiah staggered but kept their feet. They
stood motionless for a long moment before running to each other. The boy caught
her up and twirled her around, crushing her in his arms and kissing her. Then,
hand in hand, they approached the prone figures of Josiah’s parents. The
light flared around the younger couple and Annie knelt, laying her hand on
Lucien’s chest. There was a brief surge, and he took a deep breath,
sitting up.  Annie moved on to Sarahi, pulsing healing energy into
Josiah’s mother. She stirred but didn’t wake. Annie pulsed again
and drew back, shaking her head. Lucien scooted over to his wife and gathered
her into his arms. No one seemed hysterical, so she probably wasn’t dead,
but she was clearly still unconscious.

Annie and Josiah knelt, hugging Lucien and the slumbering Sarahi
briefly before rising to walk hand-in-hand across the battlefield. Time and
again Annie knelt, sending pulses of energy into prone figures. Some sat up.
Some stirred. Others remained still. Not every wound could be healed, even with
the help of a healer and an incubus.

To one side, the black-haired succubus Salome was locked in an
indiscreet embrace with her husband. The tall man had backed her up against a
scraggly tree trunk and was ravishing her mouth with one wild kiss after
another. Moses shook his head and returned to watching Annie and her beloved as
they continued to travel across the blasted desert, healing friend and foe
alike. At last they circled around to his vicinity.

"Annie," he called.

"Grandfather?"

"Yes, I’m over here. Come help, please."

She approached, holding Josiah’s hand. When the young man saw
him, the cat green eyes narrowed to glowing slits. He dropped Annie’s
hand and stalked forward, his dirty-looking aura flickering to life. A blade of
pure energy shone in his hand.

"Josiah," Annie scolded, "what are you doing?"

"Taking care of unfinished business," the boy replied.
Moses’ heart began to beat faster.

"He’s going to finish me, girl. That’s why I never
wanted you with him. I knew what he was, even before I found out about his
demon blood. He’s a killer by nature, like his grandmother."

"Josiah," Annie said, clearly trying to catch the young
man’s attention. "Josiah, come on. Don’t do anything
stupid."

"Stupid?" Amusement twisted the tan face into a grim smile,
complete with flashing white teeth. "Stupid to exact justice on the man
who tormented me since I was a child? A grown man, Annie, bullying a little
boy. How was that right? If I’m a demon, he’s the one who made me
one, with all his ugly talk and two-faced judgmental attitudes. Lilith
didn’t make me a monster. I never knew her. If I have hatred, bitterness,
despair and death in my soul, it is not because of my demon blood. It is
because of this man. How can you deny me justice? How can you deny it is
justice?"

"I don’t," Annie said, making Moses gape. "He
never acted right where you were concerned. It was a travesty. But please,
Josiah. Don’t kill my grandfather. Don’t take another life. Please,
show mercy."

"’I will show mercy on whom I will show
mercy,’" the boy quoted. "’ And I will pardon whom I
will pardon.’"

"Stop it," Annie wailed. "You’re not
God."

"I am to him. Here, in this moment, I am." He turned to
look at her and she fell silent."

"Go on then, boy," Moses taunted. "Be the demon you
are. Finish me. Do it."

Josiah smiled again, and there was death in that smile. The blade of
energy flashed and Moses flinched, but he managed to restrain the scream
welling up inside him. He would die like a man, at least.

Only he didn’t die. There was no pain, and the crushing net of
energy which had held him captive fell away and dissipated. He was free, and
Josiah had cut the cord.

Moses blinked in surprise. "Why?" he asked.

"Demon is a choice," Josiah replied. "If I
don’t act like one, I’m not one. Do you know who taught me that,
old man? My half-demon mother. And do you want to know something else?"

"What," Moses asked warily.

"I forgive you." Josiah released his hold on his energy and
walked away leaving Moses to consider what which had just happened in
speechless astonishment.

Chapter 23

"Is she going to be all right?" Lucien asked, his voice
gravelly, as the medic, a distinguished-looking gentleman with silver at his
temples and a neatly-clipped goatee, pressed gently on Sarahi’s belly.

"There’s some swelling here. I think there may have been
some internal bleeding at one point, but it doesn’t seem dangerous. What
happened?"

"She got too close to... an explosion."

"Ah," said the nurse, lifting a fragment of oily black goo
from Sarahi’s chin. "That explains this."

Lucien nodded. "Annie healed her... or tried to, but she
wasn’t able to do it all."

"I suppose," the medic replied, "being part demon her
energy wasn’t compatible. At least she repaired the injury. Internal
bleeding can be very dangerous. She also has a concussion, though I think
it’s not too serious. She’ll wake up with a monster of a
headache."

Lucien stroked a strand of crumpled burgundy hair from her forehead.
"It could have been worse."

"Yes, much worse," the nurse agreed.

Lucien held Sarahi’s hand while they worked on her, administering
anti-swelling medication, icing the bump on her head, cleaning and bandaging
her multiple abrasions, and washing the blood from her hands.

"What
is
this?" asked the nurse, cleaning ugly globs
out from under her fingernails.

"Don’t ask," Lucien replied. He didn’t want to
explain little bits of Lilith.

"Father?" He looked up to see Josiah, his hair still wet
from a shower, standing hesitantly in the doorway.

"Josiah," he replied, not knowing what else to say.

"Is she all right?"

Lucien looked to the medic.

"With rest and time, she should be fine."

Josiah nodded. "Can I come in?"

"She’s your mother," Lucien said. "Of course
you can."

Josiah pulled up a chair and sat. He took the limp, freshly cleaned
hand in his. He swallowed, twice, and drew in a shaky-sounding breath.
"This is my fault."

"No, this war has been coming since the dawn of time. You were
the catalyst, nothing more."

"’
Things which cause people to stumble are
bound to come, but woe to anyone through whom they come.
It would be better for them to be thrown into the sea with a
millstone tied around their neck.’" Josiah quoted, his eyes cast
down.

"Don’t overdo it, son. We won, after all.
If you caused the battle, you’re responsible for the victory. And I think
you’ve suffered plenty for your rebellion, haven’t you?"

"Yes." He said nothing more, but the look
on his face told Lucien everything he needed to know.

"Anything can be forgiven if there is true
repentance," he said.

"Anything? I almost got my mother killed. I got
my girlfriend pregnant and went and slept with another woman." He made a
little involuntary movement as though suppressing a gag. "I lived with
demons for weeks, and by not acting against their behavior, I condoned it. And
I murdered Peter. Can I really come back from that? Will you forgive me? Will
Mom? Will Annie?" His voice grew soft, almost a whisper. "Will I
ever forgive myself?"

"I can. And I know your mother will. As for
Annie... well I suspect you’ll have to grovel a while. But she’s
loved you forever. Give her a little time. I think she’ll be okay
eventually. Especially since you’re back."

The last part he did not address. It was too soon. He
didn’t know what it would take for Josiah to forgive himself, but Lucien
suspected a lot of effort and time would be needed. In the meanwhile the boy
could sit beside his mother, stroking her hand, and thinking about how to make
the future better than the past.

***

"Argh," Sarahi groaned as the light in the infirmary
flashed on. She turned, hiding her face in Lucien’s leg, where he sat
beside her. A week after the battle, she still suffered from blinding headaches
and light sensitivity. The pain made her nauseous.

"Sorry," the nurse said to her, and then, to someone else,
"What’s wrong, hon?"

"I don’t know. Suddenly I just feel hungry all the time.
Poor Caleb can’t keep up."

"Well I don’t know very much about succubus anatomy, but let
me take a look."

Sarahi smiled through the pain. She knew exactly what was troubling
Salome.

***

So Salome is pregnant
, Lucien thought as he walked down the hallway from
the courtyard back to the apartment he shared with his wife... used to share.
It had been three weeks since she’d been home. She was happy for her
sister, of course, but one setback after another had kept Sarahi trapped in the
infirmary.

The black-haired beauty, on the other hand, glowed with radiant joy.
And Annie was starting to show a little. She hadn’t consented to marry
Josiah yet, but Lucien suspected she would. She was just making him squirm in
payment for his sins before she agreed. Lucien didn’t disapprove. His son
had a lot of atoning to do to a lot of people, and he was too preoccupied with
his wife to tend to it.

His wife. His thoughts cycled back to Sarahi, still lying on that
infirmary bed. If only he could slip in there with her. He would be so gentle
as he fed her back to health. The nurses simply couldn’t grasp it, and
kept chasing him away, but soon he would have to be forthright with them no
matter how uncomfortable it was. Maybe tomorrow. Yes, that would be good.
He’d get a good night’s sleep, eat a hearty breakfast, and then
absolutely insist on some privacy so he could heal his wife. They both needed
it.

He had arrived at their bedroom, and he opened the door and froze in
astonishment.

***

Annie stood in the courtyard, clad in a warm fur-lined jacket, looking
up at the stars. The January air was bitingly cold, though no wind was blowing.
Her fingers ached inside her mittens and she tucked them into her pockets.

A warm body pressed against her back, arms wrapping around her.
"Hello, beautiful," a deep voice whispered in her ear.

"Josiah," she said, struggling to sound neutral.

"Can we talk, darling?"

"I’m not doing anything. Talk."

"I’m sorry."

"I forgive you." She still sounded flat, she knew, but she
feared opening up the floodgate of confused emotions Josiah evoked in her. She
hated that their relationship had become so complicated. He kissed her cheek.
The pleasure of his warm on lips on her cold face retained its simplicity. It
still felt perfect.

"Talk to me, Annie, please."

"About what, Josiah?"

"About what I can do. I love you. I’ve always loved you. I
know I screwed up. I made a terrible mess out of every good thing we had. Is
there any way I can make it right? Just say the word. If you want a star to put
in your pocket, I’ll find a way. Please, Annie. How can I make this
better?"

"I don’t know, Josiah. I just don’t know. Did you
really..."

His forehead dropped onto her shoulder. "Yes."

"But she was your..."

"I know. It was stupid. I hated it the moment it was finished.
But by then it was too late."

"Then why? Why did you... do that? Wasn’t my love enough
for you? Why did you run from my bed to hers?"

"Your love was enough for me. More than enough. That was the most
perfect moment of my entire life. The first thing that had ever felt so right.
But...Annie, a few hours later, I was ready to fight heaven and earth to have
you. And then I found out I was a demon. That my grandmother was our ultimate
enemy. That my own mother was a sex demon. How could I inflict that on my
perfect Annie? My shining star? That’s why I left. Not because I loved
you too little, but because I loved you too much.

"That’s the Othello excuse," Annie said. "It
didn’t hold water with him murdering his wife, and it doesn’t hold
water with you... doing what you did."

"It doesn’t. There is no excuse, and I don’t want to
give one. I can’t undo the past, Annie. I deserve you less than ever. But
I’ve made peace with what I am. If Mother can risk her life against the
second greatest evil the world has ever known, how can I use demon blood as an
excuse? I can’t. I won’t. I am what I am, Annie. You knew it, and
you loved me anyway, once. I’m grateful for that. I don’t know if
you can love me again, knowing the choices I've made. If not, it’s no
less than I deserve. It would be justice if you found another man to love you.
But this is mine, my doing." His hand cupped the tiny swell of her belly.
"My child. I grew up without parents for half my childhood, Annie. I
don’t want that for our baby. Can you let me try, darling? Can you let it
go enough for me at least to be part of our baby’s life? Please,
Annie?"

He was begging. Annie closed her eyes against the sting of tears.
Josiah was begging her to forgive him. For what reason was she withholding it?
He was suffering, she knew. Part of her wanted that, took grim satisfaction in
it. But most of her wanted him in her arms every day, in her bed every night.
And then an image of her beloved servicing that disgusting demon flashed in her
mind.

"Josiah, maybe we should... talk to someone."

"About what, love?"

"About everything that’s happened. A counselor? One of the
elders? Help us both come to terms with life as it exists now?"

"Do I dare to hope that would be pre-marital counseling?"
He kissed her cheek again.

"No," she replied, and felt his body sag in defeat. She
turned, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Post-marital. I want to get
married tomorrow."

She watched the understanding dawn in his eyes. Then he lowered his
face, touching his lips to hers in a tender, passionate kiss.

***

"Hello, Lucien," Sarahi said to her startled husband.
Lucien just stared. Why was she here, in their bed, waiting for him? Why was
she not languishing in the infirmary?

"Sarahi?" he said. Then he was able to focus on the scene,
and noticed that a succubus intent on seduction knew how to make a compelling
presentation. The bed was made up with a black satin comforter, pulled back to
reveal scarlet sheets. She sat on the colorful fabric, clad in a clinging black
lace nightgown which revealed more than it concealed of her luscious figure.
Her full breasts strained the fabric to the breaking point. It skimmed her
pale, narrow waist and the little curve of her belly before flaring around her
lush hips, her soft thighs. Her long red hair spilled around her shoulders and
down her back. His eyes went back to her belly. It was small now, just part of
her curves, but he had never forgotten how beautiful she’d looked,
swollen with his child. He’d doted on her during that pregnancy, more
than ever, knowing the blessing for what it was. They could try again, he
thought. Have another child. One they would raise together as husband and wife.

But first he would have to plant that baby in her. And in order to do
so, he would have to help her get well. Even now she looked pale and strained.
There were lines around her mouth, as though she were still in pain. Her eyes
also showed the strain, the emerald depths dimmed.

"How did you get here, love? How did you set all this up?"

"Salome helped me," she replied. "She told the nurse
I needed you if I wanted to get well. She helped me here and made up the bed. I
didn’t do anything but get dressed. But I want you now. I need you. Come
to me, my love."

Lucien had no intention of arguing. For all she looked like a porcelain
doll, and his protective instincts wanted to tuck her into bed, he knew she
needed his loving in order to regain her strength. Sitting beside her on the
bed, he took her in his arms and kissed her, a long and lingering kiss. She
cupped his face and held him still while she covered his lips with endless,
clinging kisses. She drank hungrily of his mouth, and he could feel copious
amounts of energy pouring into her damaged body. He held nothing back from his
lady. Nothing. He poured his life force lavishly into her, preparing her for an
even more sustaining meal to come. She pulled his sweater over his head, and he
returned the favor, divesting her of the lace dress and laying her back on the
bed, spreading her hair across the pillow. Such a compelling picture she made;
black and white and red, with the glow of her eyes for contrast. He knelt
straddling her hips, and kissed her again before moving to the tempting globes
of her breasts. He stroked and caressed one while capturing the rosy nipple of
the other in his teeth, lashing it with his tongue and then sucking hard.