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Sugar and Spice

Page 12

by Temple Madison


  “That’s a good thing! Let Hell be destroyed! We’ll all be better off!”

  “But if Hell is destroyed, Earth will be as well. I’m here to try and stop it, to free her and give her back her life.”

  “All right. Let’s assume for a moment that all you have told me is true. How in blazes can I help? I’m an old man, only the minister of a miserable, broken-down church. And between you and me? I’m not all that religious.”

  “I’m not asking for your help, Father. I only want to get you away from Lupercus.”

  “But I have nowhere to go.”

  Judas looked up at him. “Don’t tell me you’d rather stay here and take your chances with Lupercus. That’s insane. Stupid. It’s sure death. Lupercus isn’t going to let you live.”

  “It won’t happen. I know it won’t. I’ve got just enough faith left to know that God will help me.”

  “Look, maybe I don’t know much about this God of yours, but it seems to me that He intends for you to do some things for yourself. Did He give you two good legs to stand on and enough sense to know when to get the hell out? Get up off your sanctified butt so we can get going.”

  The two of them heard a sound and turned just in time to see the door open abruptly. Lupercus stood there, the shadows embracing him like an amorous spirit. From out of the darkness his eyes glittered with evil as he looked at Father Jon’s severed hand bands.

  His eyes slid toward Judas. “No doubt your handiwork.”

  “I’m getting him out of here, Lupercus. Don’t try and stop me.”

  “Judas, my boy, you’re beginning to get in my way.” His eyes shifted to Father Jon. “And you, you’re becoming a liability, one that I will delight in eliminating.”

  Judas snickered. “An old man, Lupercus? What victory is there in that?” He turned to Father Jon, who was standing in his underwear, cringing. “Look at him. He’s no challenge. Personally I wouldn’t dirty my hands with his blood.”

  A look of evil delight shone in Lupercus’s eyes. “I’ve been thinking of putting a curse on him. Just a little one. Think how much fun it would be to see him turn into a werewolf.”

  Judas folded his arms in front of him. “You haven’t much imagination, have you, Lupercus?”

  Lupercus frowned. “No? What’s your suggestion?”

  “As Lucifer lives, man, don’t do anything. He’s not worth the trouble. Save your spells for those that deserve them.”

  “Like you, for instance?” the wolf god asked with a cunning look on his face.

  “If you think you can,” Judas said, unfolding his arms and putting his hands on his hips.

  “Don’t tempt me, Judas.” The words rumbled deep in his throat, and his eyes stared steadily at him.

  “I’m here to put your madness to an end. You’ve spread as much evil as you’re going to.”

  “Tell me, Judas, why the hell do you care?”

  “I don’t know, Lupercus. Maybe the half of my soul that is white is just fucking tired of your creep shows.”

  “Oh, yes. I remember now. You’re a half-breed.” Lupercus’s eyes narrowed on Judas. “Well, listen to this, half-breed. It’ll take a lot more power and brains than you’ve got to defeat me. Don’t forget I’m a god, and I’ve got the power of a god.”

  “And the brains of a gnat.”

  “Why, you…” Lupercus’s lips thinned as he raised his arm threateningly.

  Just as he was getting ready to throw a lightning bolt, Judas lifted the hand that bore the etching of a cross and pushed it in Lupercus’s face. When the wolf god saw it, his eyes widened with fright. He stumbled backward and lifted his arms to hide his eyes as he cried out, “Get it away! Get it away!”

  “What’s the matter, Lupercus?” Judas said as he lowered his hand. “That yellow strip down your back giving you trouble?”

  Lupercus hesitated for several seconds and then peeked around his arms. “What the hell are you doing with that thing?”

  “What thing? What are you talking about?”

  “That cross. It’s on your hand!”

  Judas looked down at the cross of singed skin and smoke and felt a chill.

  He’d forgotten that it was there. He looked at the fear in Lupercus’s eyes. Thinking back, he remembered how he had immediately lifted his hand and pushed it in Lupercus’s face, but why had he done it? What was it that made him use it almost as a weapon to protect both him and Father Jon? In doing so, he knew he had probably saved their lives.

  Finally Lupercus said, “All right, get the hell out. I don’t need either of you. The old man was becoming too much trouble anyway. If you want to take care of this decrepit old goat, be my guest.” His eyes turned toward Father Jon, who cringed on the sidelines. “But I warn you, old man. If you tell anyone who you really are, I’ll kill you. Do you hear? I’ll kill you so dead you won’t even come back as a ghost.”

  “If you’re through with your stupid threats, we’ll leave now,” Judas said and took hold of Father’s Jon’s arm to lead him toward the door.

  “I’d be delighted to show you just how stupid my threats are, but for now I will only advise you to stay out of my way.”

  “Gladly.”

  He watched as Judas rushed toward the door. “Well, I do believe the great and mighty Judas is at last afraid.”

  “Me? Afraid of you? Don’t be ridiculous. I just can’t stand the smell.”

  Chapter 17

  Suddenly the side door of the church burst open, and Judas and Father Jon ran as fast as they could away from the terror inside. They trudged through the forest of tombstones, over graves, and then into the path leading to the mansion.

  With any luck Judas would be able to appeal to Sugar to at least allow the Father to stay there, but when they arrived, he searched every room, and she wasn’t there.

  After doing the best he could to make the Father comfortable, he set out to find her. He knew that since the moon was full, she’d be out searching the countryside for prey, so he ran out into the night where a late-night mist shrouded the trees intimately. Their leafy branches stooped in the shadows, reaching out at abnormal angles. The branches, like moon-cursed beings, seemed to take on a deformed look in the harsh light of the moon. Moving carefully through the thick brush, the grass took on the blackness of the woodland shadows. He stopped when he saw a stream and crouched down beside it. Blood lay at the edge, dripping down into it, the stream’s babble sounding like a gurgle of death as it penetrated the silence with its own voice of madness.

  He knew she’d been here, but where was she now?

  Gazing out into the stream, he saw the water as it lazily slipped over rocks and limbs. In a constant movement, it absorbed the treachery that had defiled it until it ran clear again and tasted as clean and pure as it had before.

  Where had the poison gone?

  Now as he looked down into the cold water and swished it around with his fingers, he wondered where to look next.

  He was just about to give up when he saw something, someone at a far distance, no bigger than a dot moving along the path.

  A woman.

  Her hair shone white in the moon’s brightness, her shredded clothes barely covering her. He watched as she drew near. He could tell from the blood that covered her that the night had been filled with death. She looked weak. A stab of panic clutched at his stomach. He had to help her.

  Moving quickly, he thrashed through the brush until he was on the path, running toward her. He ran as fast as he could, but just before he reached her, she sank to her knees and crawled along the ground until she at last gave up. Kneeling beside her, he pulled her into his arms and gathered her close. Blood soaked her clothes and her skin, but Judas could tell it wasn’t human carnage. He felt a stab of relief and held her tight against his chest. Unbidden, warmth gathered in his chest and wetness around his eyes. Surprised, he reached up and felt his face, pulled his hand back, and looked at it.

  My God, he thought, it was a tear.

  T
his was the first time he had ever been moved to tears, and he looked down at Sugar as if she were the enemy.

  No! he thought as he pushed her away and ran. Let her find her own way home.

  He reached a tree and stopped. He stood there a moment, getting his breath. After a few seconds passed, he looked back. He could feel so many emotions whirling around inside him, emotions that were new to him. Finally, not being able to stand the sight of seeing her helpless, he went back and stood looking down at her, trying to remain aloof, trying to be logical instead of emotional.

  She is alone, he reasoned with himself. In the dark. Someone, anyone, could come along and find her.

  While maintaining a steely manner, he picked her up in his arms. How could it have happened? He came from Hell! He thrived on wickedness! He was…no! He is a demon who delights in causing chaos and war! The only emotions felt in the Black Heavens were those of a low, evil, lascivious nature. Why suddenly had he felt the warmth of compassion for a woman he didn’t know when she had chosen not to kill human prey, prey that would clearly be her choice.

  Why the hell did he care?

  Judas stumbled back to the mansion while his eyes focused on the woman who was beginning to mean too much to him. Her clothes, torn and bloodstained, fluttered in the breeze, her mouth smudged with lost life. He watched as her lips formed his name. How many times? He didn’t know since so many newfound emotions roiled in his chest. Although he had fought against it, he had to face the fact that he was different. He didn’t belong in the Black Heavens, but he didn’t belong on Earth. Where did he belong?

  Why was he moved so deeply simply because Sugar, even in her bestial state, had human feelings, feelings she’d never had before? Was she growing stronger? Beginning to resist the curse instead of giving in to it? Knowing she was fighting it with all her might, he felt a soft, warm feeling gather in his chest, and his hand beneath her body became a lover’s touch. He knew he would protect her with his life, if necessary. With a full heart, his stumbling steps became a little surer until he, at last, laid her gently on her bed and then sat down beside her moon-ravaged body.

  Judas worked quickly, trying to make her as comfortable as he could, and then turned to leave. But just as he reached the door, he heard a woman’s voice and turned back.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean…”

  His words faded when he found that she hadn’t spoken, but was still fast asleep. He glanced around the room, but all was steeped in silence. “Is someone here?” he called out, but no one answered. And then suddenly a stream of words began to flutter around in his mind like a flock of birds. He recognized the voice immediately and jerked his head back toward Sugar.

  “…handsome, so very handsome…”

  “…pretty boy…”

  “…dangerous enemy with vivid green eyes…”

  “…his bruising look…”

  As the words slowly faded away, he realized he was reading her mind. It was just one of the powers he had been outfitted with, but he had forgotten about it, until now. He knew she must have had these feelings sometime in the last few days. Otherwise he would not have been able to pull them into his own mind.

  She began to struggle, and his eyes lowered to her clothes. He knew she must be uncomfortable since they were ripped up and blood splattered, so he walked to her bed and gently began to loosen them, revealing her beautifully rounded breasts and soft, curving figure marred only by traces of blood.

  He looked up and saw an old-fashioned decorative bowl on a table nearby, took it to the bathroom, and filled it with hot water. He quickly grabbed a washcloth, threw it in the water, and carried it back to the bed. With slow, deliberate movements, he began to softly caress her face with the cloth, working diligently down her body until the blood began to slowly color the water in the bowl. At one point, as he was dousing the cloth in the water, he looked back at her and found her staring at him with questions in her eyes.

  “I found you on the path at the edge of the woods and brought you back,” he explained, but she remained silent, still staring. “I figured it was better if I found you than someone else. I—”

  His words faded when he noticed her blatant sexual stare as her gaze traveled down his body. He quickly looked down at himself and asked, “Do I have a bruising look?”

  Her gaze quickly jumped from his body to his face. “A what?”

  “A bruising look…whatever that is.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “No, of course not,” he replied, expecting such an answer. “Ms. Duquesne, let me remind you that I’m a creature of Hell. My powers are many, and they include reading minds.”

  “Well, read this, you bastard,” she said as she stared intently at him.

  “My, my, I haven’t heard language like that since—”

  “You’re such a phony. You couldn’t read someone’s mind if the words were two inches high and printed in a newspaper.”

  He sighed as he looked at her cold, angry face. Why did she hate him so? He was used to women loving him, following him around, hanging on his every word. What made this one different? He apparently needed to charm her, but how? He’d never had to do it before. Did he even know how?

  “Stop staring! What the hell are you thinking, anyway?”

  “About fantasies. I have a really good one. Do you have a favorite fantasy?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. I’d love to see you hung from the nearest tree and sold for spit!”

  He chuckled. “Yes, well, my fantasy isn’t quite so harsh. It’s about this cold, angry pain in the ass, and this beautiful blond…”

  “I see,” she began. “And you expect me to play the beautiful blonde—”

  “Oh, no. I’m the beautiful blond.” As he watched for her reaction, he couldn’t keep his twitching lips from spreading into an amused grin.

  She tried to stay angry, but it was too funny, so she finally giggled. “I guess I have been a pain in the ass, haven’t I?”

  He grinned. “No more than usual.”

  Her hand came up and caressed his face. “You are beautiful, did you know that?”

  “Well, I prefer handsome, but if it’ll…”

  His words were stopped by her thumb that was rubbing the pillowy softness of his lips. “Shhh,” she said, “you talk too much.”

  “What would you rather me do?” he whispered as his hand softly sneaked upward along the fullness of her breast until he found her nipple.

  Instead of pushing his hand away, her eyes closed at the softly climbing desire she had begun to feel. “Make love to me, Judas, as only you can.”

  “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  A shameless zeal flooded her. “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, yes!” She wanted to devour him as he softly took her lips and then moved his open mouth to her eyes and then down to her neck. “Fuck me hard, Judas, and long. Push yourself inside me, and give me a taste of your cock I’ll never forget. Show me what it’s like to be fucked by a demon from Hell. Make me scream again, Judas!”

  She moaned as his love became frenzied, as his large hands pressed and kneaded her butt while pulling her to him. He moved his hips slowly, causing his growing cock to rub against her. Finally, he leaned her backward, his mouth and tongue sucking on her breasts like a starving man. She felt the electricity of his touch as he stroked her with flames of fire. Her pulse quickened, and her heart thumped erratically. She lifted her leg and anchored it around his waist and gasped when she felt his hands circle around her and press his fingers into her cunt.

  “Oh, God, Judas!” she cried as she involuntarily moved her hips to the same carnal rhythm. She could feel him first on her clit, then moving in deeper. He found her G-spot, sending a spasm of rapturous vibrations exploding inside her.

  Minutes later she found herself in a haze, being lifted, and then writhing in tangled sheets. While exposed to him, her cunt dripped its juices in anticipation of the fierce in
vasion of a cock so large and so strong she was covered with erotic chill bumps. The flames of hell leaped to new heights while he thrust his pulsing cock in and out, up and down, deep, so deep, the mattress bounced, and she moaned out her raging desire. There wasn’t an erogenous zone on her that wasn’t being handled by a master, causing her to lose her breath.

  This demon sent a hurricane of hot wind whirling through her as she lasciviously lay back and let him play her like an instrument. She was impelled to push toward him, silently urging him to ravage her until she could take no more.

  As he continued to plunge, he spread her legs even wider and handled her clit while reaching even farther to the mouth of her vagina and rubbing hard. The feeling was explosive! She couldn’t be still. Her hips did an unholy bump and grind, while her cunt embraced his fingers tightly. With his expert ministrations, he dragged the music of hot, erotic desire from deep inside her, making her move her body like a loose dancer. And then the ultimate happened. She lost her breath when she at last shattered like a broken mirror. The feeling was so explosive, she almost lost consciousness.

  When the act was at last complete, she lay in Judas’s arms smiling, deliciously sore and satisfied, as never before.

  Chapter 18

  In another part of the mansion…

  Just before retiring for the night, Father Jon sat on the bed with his head in his hands, guilty tears trickling down his face. Today he’d been called an old man, and he was. The years had crept by before he realized it, and with all that had happened to him, he felt as if he’d hit bottom. Lifting his head, he gazed into a distant past. He saw himself with his collar on. It was a holy vestment he had no right wearing.

  How much longer could he go on fooling people? His faith had fled a long time ago. These past few years had been more habit than faith. Evening prayers, the lighting of candles, he knew how to go through the motions. He knew all the right words, how to put on the mask of a gentle smile, say the words of assurance as if he were reading from a script.

 

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