by J. D. Brown
The damn thing burned like hot coal and my skin sizzled. I fought the urge to drop it and quickly wrapped the remaining cord around my left palm so the charm could dangle in the air without falling. Holding the claror out in front of me, I turned and faced...
A very old man.
Valafar rose slowly to his feet, his sweater and corduroy pants a size too big on his willowy frame. The sleeves hung past his wrists, the pant legs bunched at the heels. Wrinkles and liver spots marked his arthritic hands and bald head. His shoulders hunched with the onset of osteoporosis. The crow’s feet at the edges of his mouth deepened as he regarded me with wary eyes. If not for the deep purple hue of his irises, I might have thought the man before me was a stranger.
“Oh Valafar.” I lowered the claror and touched my right hand to his paper-thin cheek.
He sighed against my palm. “Please, do not pity me.” Even his voice was different. Deeper. Raspy. But somehow still his. He took my hand and lowered it. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word at face value.”
“What do you mean?” I probably should have kept my guard up. He was still an incubus. He still moved like a creature capable of great strength and speed. But what I knew warred with what I saw, and my brain couldn’t quite come to grips with the reality before me. Seeing this side of him—withered and tired and possibly a little broken—I couldn’t help feeling anything other than sorry for him. I thought of Leena’s father. Hesiodos had been young in comparison, but still he’d begged for release from his sire.
Valafar looked at my father. “I can get what I need from Logan. I can dip into his subconscious and see exactly what he saw at Shénshèng’s.”
My breath hitched. I didn’t know he could do that, or that it was even possible.
Valafar gave me a sidelong glance. It was probably meant to be intimidating, but on someone who looked eighty years old, it was just coy. “Or I can take a peek into yours.”
I didn’t want Lilith to know about the seeds. It was all I had to save my son—my boy who might possibly be the embodiment of evil.
No. I don’t believe that.
The evil inside of him was not my son. It was a parasite that fed on his innocent little body. It was Apollyon himself, who waited like a disease needing to be plucked from the earth and eradicated from existence.
“Tell me what Lilith wants. Please. I need to know why she’s doing all this.”
Valafar shook his head. “Sorry, love. You know the rules.”
“Then tell her I want to speak with her. I’ll ask her myself.”
Valafar scoffed.
“I’m serious.” Because I had nothing to offer either of them, because Valafar could take whatever he damn well wanted, with or without my permission, I hit him with the lowest thing I could think of. “Do you love Brinnon?”
He glared at me, but it wasn’t threatening. Nonetheless, I could tell I’d opened a wound. The hesitance in his gaze was enough.
I took advantage of his vulnerability and calmly walked past him, to my father’s side. The shampoo bottle still stood on the coffee table, within reach. I knelt next to Dad and took his hand, pressing his warm palm to my cheek. “You won’t hurt him, right?”
“He won’t feel a thing.”
Something about his choice of words made my skin scrawl. The claror practically sizzled through my sleeve. It was warning me. Pushing me. Leave, it said. Get away. But I couldn’t. Dad had left once, and it was a disaster. I wouldn’t make the same mistake.
“Okay,” I said. “Take what you need.”
The incubus watched me carefully, gaze narrowed. “Can’t. Too much smoke. Maybe you should open a window.”
I wet my lips and lowered my gaze, hoping he didn’t notice as I eyed the shampoo bottle. It was no more than twelve inches away.
“All right.” I pushed to my feet and slowly turned my back to him, facing the window. As I did so, I was careful to angle myself between the coffee table and his line of sight, blocking the shampoo bottle from view. I grabbed the bottle without a sound and continued toward the glass wall. I watched Valafar’s reflection in the window. He was looking at my father. I twisted the shampoo cap as fast as I dared, keeping my eyes on the incubus.
The cap spun from my fingers and fell to the floor, where it clattered against the marble. I froze. In the reflection, Valafar turned to looked at it. His brow furrowed. Adrenaline surged through my system as I turned on my heels and dumped a handful of Adders Tongue into my palm. I leaped into action, running toward Valafar as my inner Nephilim exploded from my chest, kicking my speed into supernatural levels. Valafar turned to look at me, but my hand was already over his nose and mouth, the arm with the claror clamped across his shoulders as I swung myself onto his back and held on for dear life.
Valafar fought with an unbelievable strength; a strength that matched his glamour more than his physical body. He slammed my spine into one of the walls, clawing at the hand over his mouth and nose, trying to pry me off. I focused all my strength into holding on. The Adders Tongue would do the rest. It had to.
Valafar twisted around and dropped to the floor, landing on top of me, knocking the wind from my lungs. The impact punched through my spine and hit the back of my head. Pain lanced through my skull and rib cage, burning hot, but I didn’t dare let go of him. Stars swam in my periphery as he slammed my head repeatedly into the marbled tile. After the third hit, I couldn’t tell if he was slowing down, or if I was losing consciousness. Warmth seeped over my lips, and I tasted blood.
The sound of a door opening registered somewhere in the back of my mind, but it was like hearing it through water. Jesu’s face appeared, and a sort of contented peace fell over my taut knuckles and throbbing skull. I could have been dreaming it. I hoped I wasn’t. Because in that moment, I couldn’t hold on anymore.
I let go.
And the crushing weight lifted.
Valafar rose to his feet, but there was something off kilter about it. His limbs dangled. His head sagged. Then a spot of red bloomed through his sweater. The blood soaked through the fibers at an alarming speed, growing wider. With it, the tip of a blade punched through, bursting from Valafar’s lower back. The sudden shock of it sent another surge of adrenaline through me, and I pushed to my feet, gasping as I staggered to the couch. I used the furniture to steady myself.
Jesu held Valafar by the collar in one hand. In his other hand, the hilt of a dagger was all that remained as the blade had been buried in Valafar’s gut.
“Stop!” I screamed.
Tancred was on one knee, checking my father’s pulse. He looked at me when I screamed, but Jesu didn’t even blink. His rage was enough to obliterate the entire hotel in one explosive moment, it was that palpable.
“Jesu, please don’t kill him.” I stumbled against the coffee table, reaching for his jacket. I grabbed hold of the cold leather lapel and used it to pull myself against Jesu’s side. “Please,” I repeated, wrapping my fingers over his strained knuckles. The man was a rock; a statue of unwavering strength. I’d have better luck with a brick wall. My heart pounded in my chest. I didn’t want Valafar to die. I only meant to suppress him with the herb, to knock him unconscious or something. But, as I gazed at Valafar...
I had dropped the claror at some point, and the man before me was suddenly young again. It was the same face that had saved me from Apollyon in Egypt, seduced Brinnon in Italy, and saved us all in Panama. My breath hitched. Valafar was unconscious, his head lulled back to face the ceiling with closed eyelids. The skin of his lips and nose had shriveled inward, bits of herb embedded under the folds as though the Adder’s Tongue had caused some sort of chemical burn. A sob escaped me, and I shook my head.
“Oh God.”
Without warning, Jesu pulled the dagger from Valafar’s stomach and dropped him into a chair. His body sagged into the cushions—a dead weight.
“Is he...?”
Jesu leaned forward and pressed two fingers under Valafar’s jaw. I still h
eld onto to Jesu, clutching his sleeve. My skull throbbed and my back hurt, but in that moment, I didn’t care. I held my breath and prayed. Jesu lowered his hand and straightened his posture. He hooked his arm around my middle, pulling me close.
“He will live.”
The relief was so instant, I sagged against Jesu. He draped his other arm across my shoulders, hugging me to him. “You need medical attention.”
“I’m—”
“Argue, and I’ll stab him in the heart.”
I glanced at Jesu and blinked against the sternness etched across his face. I didn’t think he was bluffing and it rattled me.
“Okay,” I nodded, bobbing my throbbing head. Everything hurt. Maybe it was a good idea to get checked out by a professional. Besides, we knew a vampyre doctor in town.
Jesu still looked like he wanted to stab Valafar again. Repeatedly. He had yet to relax a single muscle, his chest wound tight beneath my palms. His arms were an ironclad cage across my back.
“Whoa, slowly there.”
I turned my attention to Tancred’s voice as he helped my father to his feet.
Dad looked around the room, pausing to consider each of us with mixed levels of confusion. His brow climbed higher as his gaze finally settled on the most upsetting part of the whole scene—Valafar—and he drew a sharp breath.
“What on Earth happened?”
“You’re a lousy Hunter,” I said, before hiding my smile in Jesu’s jacket. Maybe it was the adrenaline zapping my system that made me loopy, or maybe something came loose when I hit my head. Either way, I couldn’t believe I had stopped Valafar from learning about the seeds. But, what would we do when Lilith came for him?
CHAPTER 20
“You should sit.” Jesu guided me onto the couch. I bit back the urge to tell him I was fine, and slid a hand over my abdomen. Would I even know it if I lost them? Jesu remained standing. “Tancred, tell Mr. Wu to get Dr. Shénshèng. We do not have her phone number, so he will have to try her house or the hospital.”
“Tell her to bring some herbs.” Dad looked at the unconscious incubus lying in the armchair directly across from me. “He’s bound to wake up sooner or later and, we’re almost out of Adder’s Tongue.”
Dad was right. Without Adder’s Tongue, nothing would keep Valafar here. Even if we tied him down, he’d just phase through the bindings. Tancred’s mouth twitched. I expected him to argue. Instead, he slipped silently into the hall and closed the door.
“He’s being helpful,” I noted.
“We had a conversation,” said Jesu. “So,” he nodded in Valafar’s direction, “we are holding him hostage. I would rather put him out of his misery.”
I scowled. “That’s a terrible thing to say. Valafar’s innocent.”
Dad chuckled. “Honey, that man has more blood on his hands than his creator.”
“Of course he does; Lilith uses him to do her dirty work. I’ve seen how she orders him around—she’s not just his mother but his sire, too. We can’t condemn a slave for the sins of his mistress. Besides,” I added softly, “I don’t want Lilith to have any reason to be on the offense. Killing her son would definitely be an offense.”
“You want to use him as bait?” Jesu studied the incubus. Valafar bled a great deal when Jesu stabbed him. The bleeding had stopped, but he was so still. If not for the slow pitter of his pulse, I would’ve believed him dead. I pulled my lower lip between my teeth. Jesu drew a breath, and then faced me. “I know you think Lilith is protecting you, but even if that were true, it would only be because of some ulterior motive. Something she wants.”
“I know, but what other choice do I have? I’m not going to place my child’s safety in the hands of some magical seeds. I’m sorry, Jesu, but that just isn’t enough. Lilith knows how to cure him. She must. She set this up herself. She did this to me. I’m not leaving Shanghai until I know why.”
Jesu glanced at my father and swallowed hard.
Dad looked from Jesu, to me, to Valafar, and seemed to come to some conclusion. “I’ll keep him asleep until Shénshèng gets here.”
My nose wrinkled. “How do you mean?”
“Isn’t it dangerous?” Jesu murmured.
Dad shook his head. “He’s badly wounded. I doubt he’ll even know I’m there.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Besides,” said Dad, “it could do us some good to look into his subconscious. Find out what he knows. Maybe you could even skip talking to Lilith.”
“Whoa, hold on.” I leaned forward with the intention of standing, but Jesu placed a hand on my shoulder and gently pressed me against the couch cushions. I glared at him a moment before looking at my father. “Valafar said he wanted to do the same thing to you right before I jumped him. He said he wanted to take a dip into your subconscious. What does that mean?”
Dad sighed. “I wish you hadn’t attacked him, sweetie. I can defend myself.”
“You were asleep.”
“Especially when I’m asleep, pumpkin. He would be in worse condition than he is now.”
“Okay,” I held up a hand, palm forward, “please explain.”
“Remember how I said being human was a strength?” Dad went to Valafar’s side and sat on the marble floor, crossing his legs. “Succubae and incubi possess the power of dream magic. It is the most dangerous thing about them. They can breach the veil of others’ minds when the victim is asleep, and perform all sorts of dubious actions, like viewing the victim’s memories and even influencing a person’s waking actions. Because humans sleep, we can also use dream magic. It’s just a matter of training our subconscious. So that’s what Hunters do; we fight fire with fire.”
I gave my father a sideways glance. “You stayed human so you could hunt succubae in your sleep?”
Dad nodded. “Basically, though we use a wide range of other methods, too.”
“Huh,” I said. “Can you put people to sleep with a single command like they do?”
Dad chuckled. “Unfortunately, no. That power is theirs alone. Our skills require a little more effort.”
I wondered why Lilith never used her power.
Dad placed his right hand on his knee, and then lifted his left hand so the tips of his fingers hovered near Valafar’s temple. I watched as he closed his eyes, straightened his posture, and breathed deeply.
“He could wake when I do,” Dad warned. “So don’t wake me until it’s safe.”
Jesu nuked a cup of instant noodle soup while we waited for Tancred and Shénshèng. Apparently, I wasn’t allowed to get up even though I didn’t hurt anymore. I was covered in blood, but not bleeding, and craved a shower more than anything. Jesu handed me the soup and a plastic fork. It smelled like chicken stock and shrimp, but I knew it would taste like an ash tray the moment it touched my tongue. I pushed the noodles around with the fork and wondered when I might go back to drinking blood. Something I never thought I’d hoped for. But I hadn’t been sick in a while. Maybe I was done puking my guts out at the first sign of blood? I made a mental note to ask Dr. Gordon when we got back.
If I ever went back. Who knew what Lilith had in store? Dad still sat on the floor next to Valafar, in some kind of trance. Dream magic—I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Did Lilith get her kicks by giving people nightmares? That didn’t seem to jive with the Lilith I knew.
“You look thoughtful,” said Jesu.
“I have a lot to think about.”
“You are taking it well. Your father, I mean. Learning what he is.”
“You could’ve told me.”
“I would have.” Jesu upped his brow. “But he wanted to tell you himself.”
I looked at my father, sitting erect and motionless beside the incubus. “I think I’m still processing.”
Jesu nodded.
“Do you know how it works? The...” I used the fork to point to my head, struggling to find the words, “...mind jumping?”
“Not in the slightest.” Jesu grinned as though the thought amuse
d him.
“It’s got to be a little weird, seeing someone else’s memories. It seems, I don’t know, invasive?”
“Try not to think about it too hard.”
Jesu’s suggestion surprised me, but I quickly understood what he meant. Valafar had been spying on us for a long time. How often did he mess with my subconscious? Or anyone else’s in the castle for that matter? How much did he know? I shuddered, feeling violated.
Pushing the thought aside, I twirled a single noodle around the fork, and then put it in my mouth. It was like chewing through a cigarette. I forced myself to swallow.
“Ugh. I’d rather drink blood.”
Jesu stood and went to the kitchenette. I watched as he opened the mini fridge and pulled out a paper grocery bag. I knew what was inside before he even set it on the counter.
“When did you get that?” I asked.
“Tancred and I brought leftovers with us. He stashed it while I was pulling the incubus off you.” Jesu found a glass and poured the contents of a blood bag inside. The Nephilim in my veins reacted to the coppery scent. It stretched to the surface, dragging razor sharp talons over my stomach. A deep sated hunger seemed to suck all the blood from my veins, and my systems suddenly felt hollowed with starvation. My mouth salivated.
Jesu came back and offered me the glass. It smelled so heavenly, my eyes rolled back in ecstasy, and I sighed.
“Do you think I’ll be intoxicated? Like before?”
“I think there is only one way to find out.”
Hesitant, I took the cup in both hands and lifted it to my lips. The anticipation of instant euphoria practically brought my inner Nephilim to the brink of orgasm. This was going to be embarrassing. Still...
I tilted the cup and chugged the liquid.
It was like drinking sunshine and glitter. The blood went down smooth and sat warm in my belly. Energy I hadn’t felt in a long time buzzed through my core, climbing each vertebra in my spine, ebbing over each rib to my shoulders and hips, where the sensation swathed my limbs and shot through my fingers and toes. Strength and vigor filled my muscles, and my senses sharpened to laser-like precision. A portion of the energy zinged south to my groin, and I gasped.