I tried again for my voice, and found a husking remnant of it. “Go away. You don’t belong here. I don’t have any more information for you. I’ve told you everything—you don’t need to hurt me anymore.”
He spoke then, in an eerie, disembodied voice that sounded mechanical. “We are not here to hurt you.”
We? I looked around and saw there was another one to my left, watching me with the same soulless intent. I stood a fighting chance against one of them. Two—impossible.
I still tried to back away, toward the French doors I’d stupidly closed. If I got inside I could lock the door, slowing them down while I ran for help. “Then why are you here?” I asked.
“To kill you,” the creature said, his voice expressionless.
“Why?” I was edging closer and closer to the door, and neither of them had moved. There was just the slightest chance I could make it.
“So it has been decreed, and so it shall be,” he said, moving toward me, and I saw his hands, hands that were more like claws, and for one crucial moment I froze in remembered terror.
My panic broke, and I whirled around just before he touched me, making a dash toward the door; but he caught me, talons ripping through the white cotton into my shoulders, and I felt the spurt of blood as I screamed once more, in deathly silence, knowing they would kill me, praying that death would be quick and merciful.
I didn’t want to die. Not now. I wanted to lie in bed with Azazel and explore all the pleasures of the flesh. I wanted to walk in the bright sunlight beside the water that frightened me. I wanted to talk with Allie and laugh with the others, and I wanted to do what I did best. I wanted to heal the loss, make certain there were babies for these women to hold in their arms.
I felt a strange frisson ripple through my body, almost as if I were changing form; and instead of running, I lashed out at the Truth Breaker nearest me, watching in shock as the talons of a night bird ripped across his face, and he screamed in pain.
A second later the French doors exploded in a hail of glass shards, and Azazel stood there, rage on his pale face, his wings, his beautiful wings, unfurled. They were a deep blue-black, seeming to fill the space with a righteous fury, and then he was a blur of movement, ripping the Truth Breaker away from me and slamming him against the wall. I could hear the crunch of bones, the creature’s high-pitched squeal of pain as I dropped to the ground, clutching my torn shoulders. I must have imagined that temporary shift, the lashing out with a raptor’s talons.
Someone had followed Azazel and was making quick, efficient work of the second one, breaking his neck and dropping him to the ground, but Azazel was horrifyingly merciless. He tore the pincerlike hands off the first creature as it shrieked and babbled, and then, with a quick twist, broke his neck and ripped his head from his body.
I should have been sick, horrified. Instead, if I’d had a voice, I would have cheered him. I was on my knees on the stone patio, blood streaming down my arms, my hands making no progress in trying to stanch it. Feeling dizzy, I swayed, thinking I could just lie down for a moment; then he was beside me, scooping me up in his arms, an unreadable expression on his face as he cradled me against him.
And then we went up, up, into the twilight sky, my blood soaking into his clothes as it soaked into mine; and I felt light-headed, though I wasn’t sure if it was from blood loss or being flown in the arms of an angel. And then I saw where he was heading.
I began to struggle, desperate to escape his grip. Allie had explained to me one afternoon how the sea had healing powers for the people of Sheol, and I knew he was taking me there, down into the black, murderous depths, and I knew I would drown once more at the hands of a man I loved.
“Stop it,” he said, crushing me against him. “You’ll make us fall.”
I didn’t care. I would rather die in a tangle of broken limbs than drown at his hands. I tried to tell him, but nothing but air came from my throat, and he simply ignored my desperate struggles as he rose vertically over the roiling ocean, and then plunged downward.
I expected bitter cold, but the sea was merely cool and salty. I shut my eyes to keep the stinging water out, closed my mouth on the silent scream and held my breath, fighting him as he pushed me down, down, and my lungs were bursting, my body sinking, as he pulled me to him and covered my mouth with his.
I was too shocked to resist, and he forced my lips open, breathing into me, sweet, pure air for my starved lungs, and my eyes fluttered open. I could see him clearly in the luminous blue water, smell the scent of his skin, and when he lifted his mouth I realized I was breathing.
He stripped the torn and bloody shirt from me, letting it drift away in the ocean, and the salt water washed my wounds, soothing them. I felt my body release its frozen panic, almost on its own, and I lay back, the water wrapped around me, cradling me, caressing me. A moment later we shot upward, his arms tight around me, so that we were floating in the water.
“I should never have left you alone,” he whispered against my ear. “But none of us ever imagined that the Truth Breakers would dare to come here. I ran as soon as I heard you call, but I was afraid I wouldn’t make it in time.”
How could he have heard me call, when I’d had no voice? It made no sense—but then, neither had that strange, momentary shift my body had gone through. He had come in time, and that was all that mattered. I let my head sink against his shoulder, my legs wrapped around his waist as he slowly carried me from the sea.
The shore was filled with people, and I was shirtless. He held me against him, shielding me, as Allie rushed forward. I didn’t turn my face from the warm presence of his skin, but I recognized her voice, her worried questions.
“She’s fine,” Azazel said. “I’ll tend to her.”
I must have imagined it, but I thought I felt the crowd draw back respectfully. He carried me effortlessly into the coolness of the main hall, back into the rooms that had been a haven.
He carried me straight into the huge shower, turned on the hot water, and stripped my sodden pants off me, his hands gentle, impersonal, as he soaped the salt from my body, warming me. The wounds on my shoulders had already begun to heal, and I felt limp, pliant, as he took care of me, wrapping me in a thick white towel when we were done and carrying me into the bedroom.
Someone had removed the smashed doors and cleaned up the broken glass, and a soft breeze came in through the open casement. I could only hope the same people had removed all the body parts. The bed had been remade, but Azazel yanked back the covers and settled me, towel and all, into the welcoming softness.
I didn’t want him to leave me, but I didn’t know how to ask. I didn’t have to. He slid into the bed beside me, his damp, naked body pressed up against mine, and he pulled me against him, wrapping himself around me. Finally, finally, I let out my pent-up breath. I was safe. I was well. I was loved.
No, that was ridiculous. As ridiculous as the thought that I could have shifted form and ripped into one of the creatures who had almost killed me. But there was no other word for it than love.
“Yes,” he murmured against my temple. He knew my thoughts, I remembered without alarm. What was he saying yes to? It didn’t matter. I could believe what I wanted to, what I needed to. At least for now.
Everything was still and quiet. Night had fallen, and moonlight drifted in the open portal. I wanted to stay like this forever. Didn’t I?
I could feel him growing harder, thicker, even though we lay perfectly still. Was he asleep? I knew men became aroused in their sleep. As a demon it had been my job to whisper in their ears, to excite them enough to take their wives and plant their reluctant seed. Could I whisper in Azazel’s ear and tell him to take me?