This display was all for Micah. And he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
Sammael’s hand pressed Lily’s chest and slid down. Her eyes opened, blind with need and hunger. Her hand moved more urgently and her breath quickened to a frantic pant.
Sammael’s fingers joined hers and he smiled at the bewildered pleasure that filled her face. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her mouth and she gasped, a sound so like his name.
“She’s beautiful, Micah, magnificent. How have you managed to keep your hands off her for so long?”
Micah shook his head, riveted to the spot, and Sammael kissed a line between her breasts, pausing only to suck hard first on one nipple, then on the other.
Lily’s moans turned more insistent. Her hips began to buck in earnest need. Sammael drew his finger from her, leaving her to her own ministrations and she relaxed a little, a small frown of frustration marring her brow.
The demon looked up and trapped Micah’s eyes with his own. Slowly, very slowly, he slid the finger into his mouth and sucked her juices from it. He made a sound of pure pleasure.
“Ah, Micah. You should taste her.”
Turning his attention back to Lily, Sammael moved to kneel between her taut legs, and bent his head. He licked slowly, insistently, his phantom tongue working in unison with her fingers.
She squirmed frantically closer to him, her head thrown back and her neck a long pale curve. An erratic breath broke from her lips as she came. Sammael grabbed her hips and rode out the orgasm, his tongue making it stronger and harder than masturbation would normally allow, milking cry after cry from her as she thrust against him.
Sated, Lily fell back, sleep claiming her almost immediately. Sammael’s insubstantial form stood over her, watching her with satisfaction, her juices glistening on his face. When her breathing deepened and relaxed, the demon turned from her, and approached her guardian.
“She’s so eager, Micah. So willing. If you’re going to have her, you’d better make a move soon. In a little while, she’s going to be all mine. Understand?”
Sammael’s hands pressed flat against Micah’s chest, pausing there as if trying to sense what lay beneath. They moved slowly, trailing through the light dusting of hair, tracing a line around his erect nipples before sliding down the ripples of his abdomen.
“Tell me,” Sammael’s breath played against Micah’s cheek, his face so close that if either of them turned, their lips would meet, “do you always picture yourself naked around her?”
With an oddly characteristic laugh, the demon evaporated and Micah was left alone, breathing hard and painfully aroused, in the darkness.
“Can I tempt you with freshly brewed coffee and a croissant?” Sam’s voice made Lily glow from within. She opened the door, still bleary-eyed with sleep. Thank God she had gone on a blitz to tidy up the apartment. All she’d had to do was apply a little of the admin skills she brought to offices in chaos to her own life for once. Something she should have done years ago, if she admitted it. She’d bought files and bookshelves, new cushions and throws. It looked like a different place and she loved it. She loved being able to invite Sam in.
“That’s three days in a row,” she told him as she opened the door. “Careful, you’re spoiling me. I’ll be demanding this all the time.”
The aroma of the coffee he had brought reached her and her mouth watered at the thought. It was a comfort, and one she had never expected. More than that, his company made her days easier, and even the voices seemed quieter when he was around.
As he stepped inside, Sam stumbled over a box left just outside the door. He recovered flawlessly, but he gave it an accusing glare.
“Bit early for mail, isn’t it?” he said.
“Someone’s dropped that,” she said. “You collect mail downstairs. Did nobody tell you that?”
Sam shrugged, setting the coffee jug and the plate with the steaming croissants down on the table.
“To be honest I didn’t follow too much of Cassini’s tour, just got my keys. Well, except the storage room key. It’s missing.” He picked up a long box wrapped precisely with brown paper and tape.
“You can always use my space. There’s some room. A little anyway.”
“I don’t have much to store.” He handed her the box. While he poured the coffee, Lily opened it.
The box was full of pieces of paper. Shredded paper. Lily frowned, staring at it.
“Those look like my old telephone bills,” she said. “And bank statements. I shredded them two days ago and threw them out.”
Her fingers shook as she slipped them inside to comb through the strands and see what else was there. Her things, her papers, personal, intimate papers.
“Careful.”
Micah’s voice came sharp and sudden to her ears. She stiffened. He’d been avoiding her, and the relief at hearing his voice again was only slightly marred by the concern in his tone.
Something jabbed into her finger. She gasped in surprise and pulled her hand out. Blood welled on her fingertip like a black pearl.
Sam’s arms came from behind her, drawing her back against his broad chest. He caught her injured hand in his and before she knew what he was doing, drew it up to her mouth.
Her lips closed around her finger, suckling at it while he guided it deeper between her lips. The taste of blood filled her mouth and his other hand tightened around her waist, stroking her stomach through the silk of her nightdress and wrap. Sensations fluttered through her: hunger, desire, shock, and need. Her heart raced and as he drew her hand away. She released her finger with a faint pop, and he raised it to his own lips, placing a kiss on the very tip.
“There, all better,” he said. “Now what the hell is in there?”
She shook her head, aware of the pounding blood between her thighs. Squeezing them together did nothing to alleviate it. Sam released her and tipped the box over so the contents spilled out. Shredded paper fell away and inside were half a dozen dead roses, shrivelled and black, one of the thorns glistening with her blood.
“Lily, there’s danger here.”
“I know,” she said. She’d be a fool not to realise it. Sam just looked confused.
The expression made her want him even more.
“Have you received these before?” he asked.
She shook her head. She hadn’t received them. But she knew someone who had.
She heaved in a deep breath and slowly let it release. “Just a prank, I think. A friend of mine got some. She’s psychic too. It’s some kind of sick joke, but no one knows the punch line.”
She hadn’t heard from Rachel since that happened. She needed to give her a call. But she’d been—she took a long look at Sam again. She’d been distracted.
Sam snorted and picked up a small piece of paper which had been wrapped around the shrivelled stems.
“M’khashephah lo tichayyah,” he read. “It’s old Hebrew, Exodus 22:18.”
A chill ran through Lily’s body, chasing away the arousal. Other arms encircled her, Micah’s presence enveloping her in an effort to comfort her. It almost worked. If he had been real, she would have burrowed into his arms, to hide her face in his chest.
“Oh, Lily, my bright one. It isn’t true.”
Sam was eyeing her as if he didn’t understand. But how could he not know the translation if he could say the words so perfectly? It was a phrase every psychic heard eventually and Lily dreaded.
“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,” she said, surprised that her numb lips could form the words.
Sam seized the box and thrust the contents back inside. “Sit down,” he told her brusquely. “Let me deal with this.” He strode from the apartment, the offending articles beneath his arm.
Lily sank back into the chair, and could have sworn she felt hands take hold of hers, as if someone knelt before her.
“Micah?”
“Yes Lily, I’m here.”
“Where have you been?”
“Around. I’m alway
s nearby. You know that.”
“Why would someone send that?”
“I don’t know, my bright one. Some people are not right. They don’t recognise the Creator’s gifts when they see them and—”
“And they think I’m a witch? Oh God,” she said. “Isn’t it enough that I hear voices and can’t lead a normal life, but this has to happen to me again? Isn’t it enough, Micah, that I had to leave home once already?”
The sweet cinnamon scent of him came closer and Lily closed her eyes, the better to sense him. Micah’s breath played on her cheek. He released one hand, still cradling the other, and stroked her hair, so gently it was like a warm breeze. His lips brushed against her and her body reacted. Not as it did for Sam, although there was an element of that, which she had not expected. Her heart seemed to blossom, and ripples of desire ran through her. Not lust. Nothing so simple. This was deeper, stronger. This was as old as time.
“Cassini doesn’t know who dropped it,” Sam said, slamming the door behind him.
She jumped, her eyes opening wide, expecting to see two men before her instead of the one, who watched her carefully.
“Lily?” he asked after a moment. “You okay?”
“Yes.” What could she say? Micah’s arms still seemed to encircle her, holding her carefully against a body she could not see, but longed to. “I’m fine,” she told them both. “Really. It’s just a sick joke or something.”
“Well, sick joke or not, it’s getting reported. Cassini’s on the phone already and the cops will be here to take a statement. You might want to get dressed.”
She nodded and tried to move. Micah held her for a moment longer and then, reluctantly, he released her.
“I don’t know, Sam.” She forced mirth she didn’t feel into her voice. “I’ve known you for three days and this is my second police statement.”
Rachel’s house phone rang out, and the mobile went straight to voicemail. Lily frowned and tried the studio.
“What are you doing?” Micah lingered nearby.
Reception answered and when Lily asked for Rachel, she was connected to another voice immediately.
“This is Rachel’s co-host, Todd Lane. Can I help you?” Rushed and urgent, hard words and harder tones.
“I-I’m a friend of Rachel’s. I’m trying to get in touch about a story of hers.”
“You haven’t heard? Rachel’s missing. She hasn’t been seen in two days.”
It felt like the world dropped out from under her. Lily leaned on the table, tried not to fall, tried not to cry. “She said she had a lead. She said she knew who sent her the flowers.”
“The flowers?” She heard the noise of typing, rapid, frantic typing. “Listen, what do you know about them?”
“I got them too.” Her voice sounded empty. If Rachel was missing, if her suspicions had been right—
“You’re psychic too?” He swore, then rapidly apologised, but he sounded more scared than angry. “Was there a note? Anything personal?”
“Yes. They were wrapped in personal papers. They had a note. In ancient Hebrew.”
“Hebrew? You’re sure.” More typing.
No, but my new neighbour is. She didn’t say it. Couldn’t. What on earth would it sound like? “I think so.”
“Listen love, you need to talk to the cops. Understand? This guy is dangerous.”
“I will. Someone’s already called them. But I wanted to check with Rachel…” Her voice failed her. Rachel was missing. Rachel, who’d had the same sick gift she had.
“Hang up.” Micah’s voice calmed her, as it always did.
She shook her head. “Todd? You know what Rachel thought, right? That she was being targeted? What if it wasn’t just her?”
“It isn’t. I got them too. It’s like a game. He’s one sick fuckhead. Talk to the cops.”
“I will.” Repeating herself felt like a punch to the guts. Was he even listening? “Todd, have you talked to them? Told them everything?”
“Everything? Of course.” But she knew journalists, knew the way they worked. They only told what they had to until they had the story. She’d worked with Rachel, sorted out her office. She was more than a chat show host, more than a celebrity psychic. She’d been the only person to understand what Lily went through every day. Of course, Rachel, being Rachel, had begged her to come on the show, and Lily had run a mile. But Rachel hadn’t been put off. Somewhere along the line they’d become friends.
A chill slithered up her spine. Whoever sent her the flowers had Rachel. She just knew it. “Todd. Be careful, all right?” She hung up and her strength deserted her. She wilted onto the sofa and began to cry as if she would never stop.
Sammael knew he had to take her mind off the dead flowers. All Lily seemed to want to do was sit at home, hide and try to push the delivery from her mind. Talking to the police had left her broken inside and so very afraid.
“Come on,” he told her shortly before lunch. “Let me take you out.”
“Out?” She turned a dazed look on him and something twisted inside him.
“Out,” he said firmly. “Let’s go for a drive.”
“Do you have a car?” Her voice sounded terribly distant, lost. He’d never seen her like this. It unnerved him.
“I have a great car,” he lied. Well, not quite a lie. By the time they walked down to the garage he would have a car, a great car. He just didn’t know what it was just yet.
Lily’s face remained unmoved.
“I know almost nothing about you, Sam.” She wrung her hands together. “I run into you on the street and the next thing I know you’re living next door, we’re—what is it we’re doing? Dating?”
He struggled to mask the growing cold inside him. Instead he put on a hopeful smile. “If you like.” He stretched out to touch her face, but she flinched back.
Damn, this was bad. This was seriously bad.
“We’re dating. Suddenly we’re dating and then I start getting deliveries of dead flowers from someone stalking another psychic I know. Rachel’s missing now. The cops say he’s dangerous.”
“You can’t think it’s me,” he protested, trying to edge nearer.
Lily’s shoulders tensed. “I don’t want to but I know nothing about you, Sam. And Micah—Micah says you’re dangerous.”
“Does he now?” He couldn’t keep the growl out of his voice. “The disembodied voice in your head who refuses to identify himself thinks I’m dangerous?”
“I’ve known him for years. He’s closer to me than anyone else in my life.” She exhaled slowly and Sam forced himself to calm down. She wasn’t stupid. No one could ever accuse her of that. She was smart and quick minded. She was—
She was special. A light.
That was why he was here, after all.
“Look, Lily.” He reached out again, pausing before touching her, letting her come to him. She hesitated and for a moment he thought it was all lost, that he had failed for the first time ever, that he might never touch her again, press his lips to her lips, slide his skin along her skin. The cold wave of despair was both unexpected and unwelcome. True, he would be punished if he returned to Hell a failure. But that hardly mattered right at the moment. Nothing else mattered to him when faced with the prospect of losing her and, deep inside him, something tore itself apart. “Lily, please listen, I can’t explain why I’m here now.”
“Why not?” Micah hissed. “Why not tell her you’re more of a danger to her than any human could possibly be?”
Sam shut him out, but he saw Lily flinch and knew that Micah was saying something similar to her. He winced, but didn’t withdraw his offered hand.
“Please, Lily,” he urged. “Please trust me. If nothing else, I can protect you from whoever sent those roses, if they decide to go further. Maybe that’s why. It’s fate, or whatever you want to call it. Maybe I’m here to keep you from harm.”
He closed his eyes, his brow creased with pain and stress.
Then, impossibly, he heard
Micah again, and his voice sounded completely different. No longer antagonistic, not a trace of anger. Rather he sounded almost plaintive.
“Do you truly believe so? You can protect her if he comes here?”
Sam shook his head. “If who comes?”
“Answer me, demon,” her guardian snapped. “Tell the truth for once and don’t twist your words.”
“I will not let any harm come to you, Lily,” he promised solemnly, surprised to find that he didn’t just believe every word, he meant it. He meant it as if the promise was carved on his heart. “Not while we live. I swear it.”
“So mote it be,” Micah chimed, using the old words, the powerful words, and for a moment the world of the supernatural lurched around him. Sammael drew in a shuddering breath in an effort to centre himself, but felt something else instead, something that buoyed his spirits again.
Lily took his hand, her fingers entangling with his. “I believe you.”
She leaned forward to brush her lips against his. She tasted of coffee and the salt of her tears, but he didn’t care. As her lips parted beneath his, Sammael wondered who was tempting whom, and what side of this war of light and dark he had suddenly found himself on.
“Let me get changed,” she said slowly. “Then we can go out. I’d like that.”
She walked away from him and he couldn’t tear his eyes off the sway of her perfectly formed rear.
“I may not believe you,” Micah said, “but that was an oath and I will hold you to it. You won’t harm her.”
Sam waited for him to depart as well, and then sank back in relief. He was shaking from head to foot.
Harming her had never been his intention, not physically anyway. Her soul was another matter but he’d managed to get away with it, by the skin of his teeth.
But now, sitting on the floor of her apartment, waiting for her in a most undignified stance, he swore to himself that he had meant that oath. Every word. Whoever this stalker was, he would not harm a hair of her head.
Chapter Four
Tying Sammael to Lily had been the last thing Micah wanted, but then again, what else could he do, other than make himself corporeal and guard her himself? The aura of evil intent surrounding the box of dead flowers had been so potent he was surprised Sam hadn’t felt it, but perhaps it seemed commonplace to him.
Edge of Heaven Page 4