“I told you, I’m not tired,” she said, though she still couldn’t move. “I want to know more; I want to know everything. How were you created? I mean, you said you were sterile so where did you come from?”
“Mother created us,” he answered bitterly, remembering his time in the gestation tanks, the darkness, the coldness, all those many millennia ago, the lessons they had suffered at her hand; the pain and humiliation of becoming perfect Apocritum. How he and Adam grieved when their brother Shaw left, how they mourned his “death” to save him.
“How?” she asked softly, the awe apparent in her voice.
“It was a long time ago,” he mused. “The method was more advanced back then but they are similar to how she creates Apocritae today, though she creates so few; perhaps one or two every couple of years or so.”
“But how?” Celeste repeated, trying to comprehend what he was telling her and not dwell too much on everything else. He talked about time as if… as if he had been around a lot longer than she presumed; longer than anyone presumed.
He was quiet for a long moment and she was afraid he wasn’t going to tell her anything more. But then he took a shuddering breath and said, “Gestational tanks and subliminal training. Adam, Shaw and I were created in a time that was far more advanced than this one….”
“Oh, God,” Celeste breathed, clutching her stomach as nerves started revolting at his words. It had to have been ages ago; as far as she knew, there had been no discoveries of such an advanced civilization.
He chuckled at her obvious misgivings. “Most of the civilization and all of the technology were destroyed in the process of creating the three of us. Mother was pissed but she used the ensuing years teaching us, training us. My brothers and I learned everything we could from the… other beings that were around, forming uneasy alliances that have held throughout the ages, through everything.
“I think my brothers and I are too… independent for her taste but there is nothing she can do to fix that since the technology is long gone,” he said thoughtfully, almost to himself. “Still, it took eons for Adam and me to finally break free.”
“Humans were around through all of this?” she asked softly, her eyes wide as she watched Auberon’s chest rise and fall with each breath he took; it was oddly comforting.
“Of course,” he chuckled, squeezing her in a half hug. “Plus a host of other supernatural creatures who always keep things interesting.”
Her brows pulled together at what he had said previously, “Why did it take you so long to … free yourselves?”
“Mother did too good of a job creating us,” he explained softly, drawing circles on her upper arm as he talked, enjoying it more than he should. “She filled our heads with misinformation and half-truths to keep us in line. It took years for the perfect veneer to crack and expose the rotten core beneath; Shaw was the first of us to break free, but then again, he was always the most rebellious of us.”
“I find that hard to believe,” she laughed slightly, holding her hand in front of her mouth to hold in her amusement as she looked at Auberon, picturing him in his leather pants and untamed hair, looking every inch the rebel.
His lips curled up into an authentic smile, “Sad, I know, but true. It took another fifteen hundred years for me to desire my freedom and only recently has Adam admitted to being stifled. Of course, once Adam commits to something, he commits completely. He is the one who has gotten us this far.”
“I see,” she nodded her head, though she wasn’t sure she saw at all.
“Even though he is set on this course it has been difficult for him at times because he was always Mother’s favorite,” Auberon continued, wondering why in the name of all that was Holy and good and pure he was telling these things to this girl. She was Adam’s; Adam should be the one informing her of their origins. But then he wouldn’t get to talk to her now and he really wanted to impress her; maybe gain her favor. What the hell? Was he back in the Middle Ages all of a sudden? ‘Gain her favor?’ Whatever. “He still struggles with guilt on occasion. But now that he has you, I think that will change; finally.”
“So that’s a good thing?”
“You are a good thing,” he smiled at her, running his hands gently over her slender back, comforting her and torturing himself. He scowled up at the ceiling, both at his memories and his unrequited lust. “Mother is a malicious, controlling bitch; she would destroy us if she even had a hint of our rebellion.”
There was no mistaking the hostile tone of his voice. “Why did you risk so much?”
“Freedom,” he said softly, passionately, as calmness settled over them, blanketing them together, both lost in their own thoughts.
Her body relaxed against his and after a moment she asked, “But you guys have escaped, right?”
“We have,” he assured her, tightening his arms for emphasis, letting her know silently that she was safe in his arms. Er, with him and Adam. "Mostly."
“How is that possible?” she asked. “How does the Queen not realize?”
“Like I said, Mother did too good of a job creating us,” he repeated wryly. “I don’t think even she knows the extent of our powers otherwise she would have kept a tighter leash on us. Luckily, she thinks that we are still part of the Hive, since we can manipulate the communications and give the impression that we are still there.”
“Huh,” Celeste muttered, the words and implications crashing together haphazardly in her head. Tilting her head to the side, realizing how little she actually knew of the Apocritae, she murmured, “I don’t understand.”
“It’s complicated,” he said as a mild understatement, seeing more and more of Gloria in her actions now that he knew the truth of her origin. Forcing himself to concentrate on the subject at hand, he shrugged his broad shoulders, “Adam and I do a lot of traveling for the Hive and our various interests. We also represent the Apocritae in the Council, so we are allotted quite a bit of leeway. As long as we send in the appropriate signals, Mother will never grow suspicious.”
“Appropriate signals?” Celeste asked curiously.
“Communication between the Apocritae,” he explained. “Adam and I are able to send it out without thought, allowing us to retain our freedom permanently. And hopefully someday it will no longer be necessary to do that anymore.”
“Auberon?” she whispered in a voice barely louder than the exhalation of a breath.
“Yeah?” he lifted his head and looked down at her, seeing her lids dropping as she stared at nothing in particular. He watched as her brows pinched together and he wanted to kiss her worries away; to tuck her into his heart and keep her safe.
“The baby is not human, is she?” she asked, tilting her head back and looking at him with glistening eyes.
He saw her struggling to stay awake, felt her breasts press against his side as she yawned. Drawing his hand along her jaw, needing to touch her, he shook his head, “No, I don’t think so.”
Her eyes closed and she swallowed once, twice. “What is she?”
“My Queen,” he whispered, kissing her forehead and closing his eyes in reverence. With his lips against her skin, he said, “Sleep.”
But she was already asleep, her even breaths puffing against his chest tightening the area around his heart. Pressing his lips to the top of her head, he wanted to cry out, howl at the unfairness of it all. His brother was a lucky man, a very lucky man. Damn the Fates and their fickle ways. But for tonight, she was his and in the morning when it was time for her to return to Adam, he would pretend this night never happened; that he never tasted her blood and wanted so much more
Chapter 12
Auberon held her in his arms as he stared up at the ceiling, the pleasure of being near her outweighing the agony of having her so close. Inhaling deeply, he froze as the hint of a sleeping Guardian Angel as well as the more pungent odor of a fully awake Guardian Demon tickled his nose. Groaning, he squeezed his eyes shut; of course the Fates would assign a protector to a potential
Queen. A Guardian would explain Adam's inability to scent Celeste from across the pond. It also explained why the Queen remained oblivious to the true extent of the threat against her. Had his Mother known how significant the "wrinkle" was she would have torn the world apart in her zealousness to find Celeste and destroy her before the baby Queen could take her first breath
His mind raced through the possibilities, trying to figure out which one was the Guardian and what sort of complication she was going to be. Not that it mattered; both Guardian Angels and Guardian Demons were loyal to a fault, though the demons were far more belligerent, quick to act and slow to think. He hoped Celeste's Guardian was the demon but he feared it was most likely the sleeping Angel simply because the Fates liked to fuck with them. It would have been too convenient to have an armed and fully operational Guardian protecting the infant Queen. Hell, the fucking Guardian probably wasn't going to awaken until the Queen was born. It would have been nice to have back up in case things went wrong. And Auberon had lived long enough to know that things invariably went wrong.
Again, all he had to say was damn the Fates and their fickle ways.
How were an Angel and a Demon even in the same apartment without tearing each other's eyes out? While there was a fragile alliance between Apocritae and angels and Apocritae and demons there was no such thing between demons and angels.
Sliding out of the bed, he padded quietly to the door and into the living room, rubbing the unruly organ that was beating in his chest. He didn't love Celeste; of course he didn't love her. He didn't know what he had been thinking after he tasted her but it wasn't love. He didn't do love, especially not with a girl that fancied herself in love with his brother.
His ruminations were interrupted by a blond beauty who was standing in the kitchen stirring something in a coffee mug. She was clad in a brief camisole and barely there panties, the silk material practically non-existent as they emphasized her gorgeous body. He adored beautiful women and this blond was exquisite. His lips curled in appreciation as his gaze travelled over her feminine form. She abruptly stilled, her shoulders tensing a heartbeat before she turned her head and she saw him. Her blue eyes flashed with interest as they moved over his naked chest but then her expression unexpectedly twisted into hatred. Venom oozed from her every poor and her eyes narrowed as she hissed, "Apocritum."
The corners of his mouth curved upwards in a dark smile until he realized the girl wasn't the angel but the demon. And she wasn't a Guardian. Narrowing his eyes, he inhaled her scent, the lust hitting him low in the gut. "Succubus."
"What are you doing here?" they asked at the same time.
Her eyes flamed brighter as she pressed her lips into a straight line and let the spoon fall to the counter top with a clink. "I asked first, Apocritum."
"I'm here to protect Celeste," Auberon offered the partial truth. Crossing his arms over his naked chest, he grinned as her eyes dipped to his pectorals. He walked towards her, unashamed of using his superior size, strength and age to intimidate her. "And you, little demon?"
"I came to help Celeste and Kim pack," she said warily, watching every move he made, her body poised to attack if necessary. She was a loyal little creature. "Back off, Apocritum."
He chuckled low in his throat, leaning against the counter next to her and blatantly perusing her nearly naked body. She had a very nice body, with breasts that made a man grateful for the organ between his legs that made him a man. Yet he was unaffected by her beauty and her form; the only lust riding him was the succubus pheromones that came off of her in waves and the lingering taste of Celeste. Reaching up, he lightly grazed the hem of her shirt before meeting her blue flame eyes, "What will you do about it, demon?"
She smiled sweetly even as her eyes burned and he almost didn't see the steaming cup of water she grabbed. With a mocking smile, he wrapped his fingers around her delicate wrist and held her hand in place, "You're not even a full succubus, demon; you're only a half-breed."
If looks could kill he would be a writhing mass of blistering skin. The hellcat sneered, "It's better than being a vile Apocritum."
Obviously, it was a very uneasy alliance between the Apocritae and demons. Releasing her wrist and grabbing the mug before she could, he brought the hot coffee up to his lips and took a sip. Holding her eyes over the rim of the mug, he quirked an eyebrow, "And what is wrong with being an Apocritum?"
"You're all the same," she spat, her eyes looking over him in disdain now. "Evil, vile creatures hell-bent on seduction and blood consumption, not caring about the destruction they leave in their wake. You would devour the world if there weren’t repercussions, if it wouldn’t cause you any… inconvenience."
“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle vicious?” Auberon asked wryly, taking another indifferent sip of the coffee. He was rewarded with the low growl that came from the back of her throat.
“Not at all.” she glared at the man, narrowing her eyes at him and he could see the gears working in her intelligent eyes as her mind raced through various scenarios. Suddenly, her expression changed and her body softened. Her eyes smoldered and her full lips became even fuller, riper; she sent him a come-hither glance as lust swirled in the air around them, wrapping its tendrils around his arms, his torso, his cock.
As soon as he realized what she was attempting to do he threw his head back in laughter, "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea who you're fucking with."
Slamming the mug down, he brought his head forward and stared deeply into her eyes. Closing the short distance between them, he crowded her with his body, blocking her in with his sheer aura. Bending his head closer, his cock twitched in eagerness at her shaky intake of breath but he ignored it. Her delicate hands came up and pressed against the hard muscles of his chest and her blue eyes darkened until they were almost as black as his. Her nipples pebbled against his chest and her pulse raced in her delicate throat. She was practically panting as he brought his fingers up and trailed them along her collar bone, just to screw with her and give her a taste of her own medicine.
He insinuated his thigh between her legs, pressing against the damp heat of her femininity and realizing how small she was. She was just a child, barely twenty-two in human years, but with a wealth of power that he doubted she even knew she had. All of it simmered just beneath the surface, a golden light that was pure and untainted. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her scent, letting it wash over him and feeling nothing in its wake. But the little demon deserved to be taught a lesson.
Bending his head, he breathed, "Don't fuck with someone who mastered the art of seduction thousands of years before you were even born."
He felt her swallow, felt her body tremble against his, and he smiled, easing his hold over her slowly so she wouldn't fall. That is, until an avenging imp attached itself to his back, raining down blows on his head and shoulders. "Get away from my mistress, you foul beast!
Auberon brought his hands up to shield his head from the puny hits, unwilling to hurt one of Celeste's foolish friends. "Back off, demon; I have no intention of harming the girl."
He looked at the succubus, who stared at him with wide blue eyes, a slight smile on her lush lips. Resting her ass against the counter, she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and sat back to enjoy the show. Her eyes widened in horror a moment before he felt the sharp edge of a blade press against his throat. She held her hands up in the air, "Rachel! Put the dagger away; he was just teaching me a lesson."
"What the hell is going on out here?" an angry voice came from the bedroom opposite Celeste's. Spinning with the demon on his back, Auberon finally saw the Guardian Angel, her blond hair a halo of curls around her beautiful face. Latent energy crackled around her and his breath caught in his throat; she was going to be powerful once she remembered who she was, what she was. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she looked at him, "Adam? What are you doing here?"
In the heartbeat between the angel's appearance and her question indicating she knew him, the demon slid the kni
fe across his throat, spilling his blood. He threw the demon down, glaring at the idiot demon with burning hair and putting his hand against the wound. The foolish demon had to know that having his neck sliced open wouldn't kill him. Unfortunately, it still stung.
A loud gasp from Celeste had him spinning around and catching the horror in her pretty hazel eyes. She closed the distance between them and wrapped a hand around his neck, bring his injury down to her level. "Auberon, tell me what to do."
"It's okay," he tried to tell her, but the feel of her finger moving through his blood, over his skin, had his cock thickening and tenting his flannel pants. "Celeste."
Before he could tell her that he would heal in a few minutes, her lips were against his throat and she was licking the blood away. All brain activity immediately stopped and the blood that wasn't spilling from his wound fled to his cock. He grabbed her by the elbows to hold himself steady as he experienced the most erotic thing he had ever felt in his long, long life. Pleasure raged through his body as her tongue moved over his skin and he would have given everything to make her his.
His legs weakened and he fell to his knees before her, taking twisted pleasure in her gasp of despair. Her fingers curled into his hair as she frantically mouthed the blood away from his skin. Wrapping his hands around her slender hips, he held onto her as she destroyed him. He was almost as tall as her as he rested on his knees; why had she seemed so much taller? Grander? She was just a tiny little thing. "Celeste, I'm okay. Celeste."
Dazedly, she pulled her head back and looked at him, tears in her eyes. He offered her a cocky smile, knowing that it trembled slightly on his lips. Hopefully she would think the betraying action had more to do with the wound than how he felt about her. Tilting his head back, he showed her the unmarred skin, "See? I'm okay."
"You scared me," she breathed.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, truly sorry for frightening her. With his thumb, he brushed a droplet of blood from her lips, letting his finger linger for a moment longer on the supple skin. She might not love him as she loved his brother but she did care for him and he was so pathetic he would take the scrap and cherish it. "I was teasing your friend and her protector misunderstood."
Awakening Page 18