Tears of Blood

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Tears of Blood Page 18

by Simone Beaudelaire


  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 wif
e 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.

  Sarahi moaned and tossed her head as he worked the sensitive peak.

  "Over here, love," she urged, guiding his mouth to the other side where it seemed the other nipple, jealous, begged for his attention. He gave it. She stroked his hair as he pleasured her. He kissed his way down her belly to the sweet, wet cleft of her body. He wanted to taste her, and he did, massaging the lips open and kissing her there before devastating his lady with long, tender lick. He worked and worked her feminine flesh, bringing her to a delicate peak of ecstasy. She didn’t have it in her to come hard, but moisture surged against his lips. She was ready for her man, and he was more than ready for her. Kneeling between her thighs, he aligned his aching sex with her ready portal and slipped gently through the opening, sliding deep, deep into her waiting body.

  "Ooh," she
sighed. Then she sobbed softly as Lucien pulled back and pressed in again, then again, setting up a slow rhythm. Every time he pressed forward, energy poured from him into her. Her cheeks flushed with pleasure. Seeing she was stronger, he grasped her hips and thrust harder. Her breath caught. A moment later she was writhing in pleasure, whimpering and clawing at his back.

  Remembering those claws, he grabbed her arms and pinned them to the bed above his head as he gave her his last few strokes and poured his seed into her welcoming body.

  After giving away so much energy, Lucien collapsed exhausted on Sarahi. She slipped her hands out from under his and embraced him.

  "Are you all right, darling?"

  "Never better," he sighed. "You?"

  "All better. You healed me. I didn’t take too much, did I?"

  "No. I’ll need a good night’s sleep, and a huge breakfast, but I’ll be fine. I love you, Sarahi."

  "And I love you, Lucien. Can you believe we all survived, that we won?

  "I know. I also can’t believe I’m still awake." He yawned hugely and rolled to his side, pulling her close.

  Epilogue

  Josiah married Annie the next day, and eventually the couple did come to terms with all that had happened. Their son was later joined by two daughters.

 

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