The Unforgiven (24 page)

A low, feminine moan gave way to a sob. Cade’s glance cut to the open doorway where one corner of an iron footboard was visible. Maddie’s thrashings had snagged a white sheet in the decorative ironwork, and Cade’s belly clenched with equal parts lust and fear as the fabric pulled taut.

He stood at the table and gazed into the bowl of water.
Raising his left hand, he touched the hilt of the dagger tattooed on his right breast. The weapon became solid in his grasp. The edges of the jewels pressed into his palm. The blade’s iron edge gleamed like night.

Without hesitation he pressed the tip into his right palm. His blood was dark crimson, almost black. He tilted his hand and let a drop fall on the water’s surface, then onto each of the five stones he’d laid out. He whispered a spell of protection in the language of his Druid ancestors, those men and women long lost to Oblivion. Now they endured solely in the memories of Cade and his kin, their descendants.

As the last word fell from his lips, a dark sphere rose from the water. The sphere swelled, touching the rocks and the candle and continuing to expand until it passed through the walls of the cottage. Cade shuddered as power passed through his body and his mind. Maddie’s cry came next, startled, fearful. In her oversensitized state, she would feel the blood magic as a sting on her being. Cade fought the urge to rush to her side. But, not yet. With no clan brother or sister to stand guard, it fell to Cade to set the boundaries of Maddie’s protection.

It was difficult to concentrate weighed down by the burden of celestial judgment; Raphael’s sword had left a residue of righteousness festering in Cade’s wound. Only Maddie’s fitful sobs, filled with increasing despair, enabled him to focus. He wondered what she saw in her nightmare.

Soon he’d know. Soon he’d know everything about her, every experience she’d lived, every secret she guarded in the depths of her heart. He’d uncover all the secrets of her Nephilim ancestors. Everything she knew, everything she was, would be his. If he didn’t fail her. If he didn’t lose her to madness and death. Her survival depended on his skill. It was an unwelcome sensation, this responsibility. Before now, the only person he’d been responsible for had been, briefly, his son. And there, he had failed.

Ultimately he would fail Maddie, too. It couldn’t be otherwise; to set her free would mean risking the survival of his clan. Maddie might claim to support his cause, might even believe that she loved him. As he had loved Cybele, which ultimately had meant nothing. It was almost inevitable that an awakening dormant would form such a bond with his or her anchor.

No, what Cade had experienced with Cybele had not been the true love of bonded mates. Similarly, whatever Maddie felt for Cade was wrapped in lust and desperation, not freedom. How could he trust the constancy of any vow Maddie made during transition? She had no idea of the power that awaited her on the other side of her crisis. Once she claimed her magic and that of her ancestors, she would know who she was: Azazel’s descendant. Dusek’s kin. A natural enemy of Clan Samyaza. His enemy. Even if he saved her life—and he would fight to do that with every breath in his body—she’d emerge from the crisis enslaved. She would truly despise him then.

He shoved that thought into a dark corner of his mind and opened the door leading out of the cottage, then paced once around the building within the sphere of protection. Returning to the door, he entered and spoke the spell’s final word. The windows went black. Only the five candles illuminated the gloom.

It made no difference to Cade. What he was about to do was best done in darkness.

The blue center of the flame danced. Instinct screamed for Lilith to avert her gaze. She did not. The light hurt; it seemed to bore a hole through each eye. Even from an arm’s length she could feel the heat.

She knew the magic would not hurt her. How could it? The power was part of her.

“
The flame is neither form nor thought,” Azazel said. “It is beyond those earthly attributes. It is a thing of the sky, born of the lightning that strikes with the storm. It is the power of Heaven. But only those with the magic of Heaven in their being may know its secrets.
”

The magic of Heaven lived in Lilith’s being. Sometimes it battered against her ribs trying to break free. The sheer power of it frightened her. But with her father at her side—guiding, coaxing—the menace faded into nothingness.

“
Open your hands, Daughter.
”

She obeyed, and Azazel transferred the ball of fire into her possession. She felt its heat but no pain. The flames danced in her palm, shot spikes of light along her fingers. Power seeped through her skin to meld with her own magic. Her body grew heavy, as if her feet had sent roots into the soil. Something subtle stirred in her dark, private woman’s place.

“
It is so beautiful,” she whispered.

“
Beautiful,” her father said, “and deadly. When called by one too weak to wield it, the magic will take its own course. Or it will be snatched by a more powerful adept. You must be master of the power you wield, Lilith. Always.
”

She spilled flame from one hand to the other and back again. “With your help, Father, I will learn.
”

His lips curved, and her heart sang at the sight. She had pleased him. It was all she lived for.

“
You learn quickly, Lilith. I am pleased.” His dark eyes raked over her. “Very pleased indeed.
”

At Azazel’s direction, she placed the flame in the forge. There was no fuel for the fire to consume, but that did not matter. Its fuel was Lilith’s magic. The fire remained steady.

The clay crucible lay open. In the base was the powder her father had called the prime substance. It was so dark it looked like a hole in the universe.

Lilith took the knife and held the tip to her right palm. Thin red lines crisscrossed the flesh there, badges of her courage, of her
devotion. This time she hardly felt the bite of the blade as it opened a new gash.

Blood dripped into the bowl to mingle with the black powder. She capped the crucible swiftly and sealed it with wax, then set the orb on the blue fire. The flames burned in her heart as well as among the stones.

She knelt before the forge, watching, waiting, until Azazel nodded. Without hesitation she reached into the fire with her bare hands. Her flesh did not burn.

Azazel leaned close, his breath quickening. His crimson aura pulsed. “Open it, Lilith.
”

His hand came down on her head as she worked the blade. The clay parted at the joining. She lifted the upper half and laid it aside.

A gasp parted her lips. The prime substance was gone. In its place lay a crimson jewel, round and glittering, as large across as the first joint of her thumb. It had been born of her magic, and of her blood.

“
It . . . it is beautiful.
”

Satisfaction laced her father’s voice. “As are you, Lilith. You have done well. Indeed, you have exceeded my wildest expectations.
”

She glowed under the praise. The red stone glowed as well.

“
What is it?” she whispered.

Azazel lifted the gem from its nest and placed it in her cupped hands. “What does it feel like?
”

She closed her eyes, as he had taught her, and listened with an angel’s understanding.

“
Life,” she said. “Life eternal.
”

“
And so it will be,” Azazel said.

Fire.

Fire in her hands. Fire on her skin. Under her skin. Burning her from the inside out. Licking the tips of her breasts, the swell of her belly, the entrance to her womb. Maddie’s body
was the crucible. Her nature was sealed inside. Magic was the fire, the transforming force.

She was hot. So hot. She couldn’t bear it. She tore at her T-shirt. It was dirty, soaked with sweat. Plastered to her skin. She had to get rid of it.

The fabric ripped and fell away. Cool air struck her bare chest. It wasn’t enough. The fire inside her ribs was too strong. It burned. It tortured.

The inferno between her legs was worse. It pulsed with ferocious rhythm. Her inner muscles contracted on nothing. She pressed her hand between her legs and moaned. She was so empty. She was on fire. For him.

For
whom
? She opened her eyes and looked wildly about. She couldn’t remember.

Where was she? Jackknifing into a sitting position, she whipped her head around, taking in whitewashed walls and spare, heavy furniture. What was this place? This room? She didn’t know it, didn’t remember it. How had she gotten here?

Four walls, floor, ceiling: they all twisted and roiled. The bed and her stomach lurched. She grabbed at the white sheets. Light raced over the plaster walls, leaving trails of sparks. The stars zinged in her direction. She ducked.

Mocking laughter erupted from a gaping, ravenous maw. The horrific creature from the dingy Israeli hotel crouched at the foot of her bed. Its dripping tongue lapped at her toes. She scrambled backward and collided with the bars of an iron headboard; her fingers clung to the cold, curling metal.

The monster slithered across the mattress. It was coming to take her! Consume her. Destroy her. Suck her into madness. She couldn’t surrender to it.
Wouldn’t.
She flung herself from the bed.

Her knees hit the stone floor. Pain exploded and she cried out. But,
Stay calm,
a voice whispered.
Pain is an illusion. You
will defeat it when the magic comes. And then you will use your power to escape the son of Samyaza.

The words ricocheted inside her skull. Was it truth? Was Cade the monster?

No. Cade appeared in an open doorway. The instant she caught sight of him, the monster howled. Did it fear him? As she focused on him, the creature receded to the corner of the room.

Cade wanted her to come to him; she felt the command in her head. The urge to obey was overwhelming and she didn’t even consider resisting. Nor did she want to.

I love him.
The truth exploded with blinding clarity. She loved this man, this Nephilim demon who had shown her nothing but tenderness and understanding.

She scrambled off the bed and flung herself across the room. But the doorway, and Cade with it, kept moving. First to the left, then to the right. She couldn’t reach him.

The monster mocked her failure, chortling with gleeful laughter. The voice whispered into her ear,
Fool! You do not love him. You cannot. He means you harm. You must flee.

But Cade’s voice was also present in her mind:
Maddie.
Caraid.
Come to me.

Need throbbed between her legs and deeper. Inside her. She wanted Cade. She would do anything to reach him, and in the end it was his command—and her acceptance of his right to make it—that prevailed.

She lurched into his outstretched arms. The monster and its laughter drained away; even the whispering voice fell silent. She nearly sobbed with relief. Sliding down his body, she knelt at his feet. Her frantic fingers tore at the button on his jeans.

As she ripped open his zipper, he sprang hard and ready into her hands. She loved the feel of him. So firm, so smooth. She inhaled deeply; the heady scent of him spun her senses. She
stroked him, pulling hot velvet skin over an iron-hard shaft. He let out a sound midway between a groan and a growl.

Fisting his hands in her hair, trapping her, he held her motionless, her lips just inches from the broad, smooth head of his shaft. The restraint was safety. Bliss. She craved his power, trusted in it. With Cade in control, the madness could not touch her. He was her anchor; only he could stop her fall into a yawning pit of insanity.

She opened her mouth and licked her lips. “Please.”

A shudder passed through him. On a rough exhalation he hauled her to her feet. When he spoke, his voice was harsh while his words unexpectedly tender.

“Soon,
caraid
. Soon. I know what you need. I promise you, you’ll have it soon.”

“No,” she begged. “Now.”

He lifted her into his arms and strode back to the bed. The sensation of weightlessness was disorienting. She felt a surge of something that could only be magic that was inside her, under her skin, inside her ribs, buried in her deepest being. Beating its wings, demanding freedom. It
would
be free. She could feel it awakening. Expanding.

Too strong. Too fast. Too big. Her frail human body could never contain it!

Tingling needles pierced her skin everywhere, or so it felt. She stared at her arm crooked around Cade’s neck. It glowed in dark rainbow colors. Her skin was translucent and sparkling.

“No!” Denial. Terror that struck her like a slap to the face. The love she’d felt just moments before ripped to shreds. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her. It wasn’t real. She couldn’t be transforming into . . . what Cade was. She was human. Not a monster. Not
Nephilim
.

“No!” Trust forgotten, love forgotten, she tried to twist from Cade’s arms. Tried to fling herself over the edge of the bed to the floor. His arms tightened around her as her struggles
turned frenzied. This was his fault. He’d forced this on her. He’d seduced her, kidnapped her, drugged her, made her want him. He wanted to imprison a demon’s nature in her human body. She couldn’t let him do it.

Now you see the truth. Now you know what is at stake. Your freedom. Your life. Stop him. Get away. You have the power.

The rasping voice was back, whispering inside her skull.
Get away. You have the power.

Did she? And if that was true, how could she use it? She was on the bed, all but helpless, Cade’s weight pressing her down. And it felt good, so good, despite her fear, despite her panic, despite the warnings of the voice in her head. Waves of ravenous lust lifted her hips. She needed him. Needed him to fill her craving. She didn’t want to escape him.

War raged on in her mind, her doubts battling her need. Whispers inside her head urged her to fight. Finally, the voice succeeded in drowning out Cade’s gentle voice. Panic exploded.