The Nightwind's Woman

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  “One of the succubae sisters is my guess. Most likely Naamah. You’re not of my pantheon so I don’t need to show you any respect but if you don’t step aside, I am going to show you what it feels like to have a Reaper slam your scrawny ass against the wall.”

  The door to Coulter’s room opened at the exact same moment that Lauren Fowler’s opened and Darkyn Sorn walked up behind Cree.

  “Shit,” Lauren snapped. “How the hell did she get in here?”

  Hissing under his breath, the Alpha flung up his hands at seeing Coulter, Randon, Lauren and Jaleel peering back at him. “I don’t recall alerting the whole gods-be-damned house that I have to piss,” he snarled. “Fuck!” He came straight at Naamah and for the first time in her long, long life, the fallen angel stepped aside for a male.

  “Now that is a man,” Lauren said to her lover.

  “That’s Cree,” Coulter said. “Winning friends and influencing enemies as usual.” He looked at Naamah. “I wondered when you were going to show up. Couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

  She hadn’t intended for anyone to see her and it showed on her face. With a roar of fury she whipped around and disappeared.

  “Couldn’t resist going after a prime piece of ass,” Lauren said with a laugh. “And the Reaper has a mighty fine one.”

  “Never mind about my ass. She came out of Kerreyder’s room, not mine,” Cree yelled through the closed bathroom door. “I suggest someone check on his ass!”

  Coulter and Lauren exchanged stunned looks and hurried to Kerreyder’s door with Jaleel right behind them. Sorn and Randon were close on their heels. Coulter flung open the door so hard it hit the wall with a loud bang, the doorknob putting a dent in the sheetrock.

  Kerreyder shot upright at the sound.

  “Are you all right?” Lauren asked. Her eyes roamed over him from head to foot—lingering a very long time on the middle of him before moving on. “Did she hurt you?”

  Torn from a pleasant dream of his lady for a moment Kerreyder had no idea where he was or who the people staring down at him were. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he didn’t respond as he tried to make some sense of why there were strangers hovering over him.

  “Answer me, incubus!” Lauren shouted. “What did she do to you?”

  “Who?” he shouted back then realized the woman was staring at his crotch. His eyes widened and he looked down—half-expecting to see his cock injured in some way. Since it appeared intact—albeit a bit harder than he would have liked it to be considering it was being perused by four men and a woman—he fumbled for the sheet and tossed it over his legs. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Naamah,” one of the men said and as soon as he spoke clarity filled in the gap is Kerreyder’s memory. The man was a Reaper. No, he was more than a Reaper. He was a Gravelord—whatever the fuck that was. But it wasn’t the recognition of who and what the man was and the identities of the others falling into place that sent his heart racing, it was the name of the succubus.

  “She was here?” he asked.

  “Cree said she came out of your room,” the younger Reaper told him.

  “Did she touch you?” the witch demanded. “Did she feed from you?”

  Kerreyder’s eyebrows drew together then leapt up. “Fuck! She could have. She would have!” He shook his head. “It wasn’t McKenzi I was dreaming about. It was…” He gagged. “Fuck! She must have!”

  “Great,” Lauren snapped. “Just great!”

  “She breached your spell,” Jaleel said. “That is not good, dearling.”

  “You think?” Lauren snarled.

  “What does it mean that she took his blood?” Sorn asked.

  “Not his blood. His jizz,” Coulter stated.

  Sorn frowned. “His what?”

  “His cum, you dolt!” Randon shouted.

  “That’s what succubae do,” Jaleel told him. “They take their power from a man’s semen and the semen of an archdemon is one of the most powerful seeds in the Megaverse.”

  “Which means her powers are exponentially more potent now,” Lauren said. She looked to her lover. “I need to cast a deeper circle and we must all take part in the ritual.”

  “No,” Randon said. “Not me.”

  They all looked at him—including Cree who had just entered Kerreyder’s room. “What are you saying no to, demon?” the Alpha asked.

  “I will never enter any circle the witch casts.”

  “But you are the most important participant,” she reminded him. “Only your hand may touch the key and—”

  “I said no,” Randon stated emphatically. “I’ll not do it.”

  “Aye, you will,” Cree told him.

  “No, I won’t.” Randon headed for the door but Coulter reached out to take his arm. When the Nightwind would have shrugged him off, Coulter clamped down hard.

  “She cannot and will not do you harm within the circle,” the Gravelord said. “You have three Reapers and an archdemon at your back, Kayle. You are in no danger.”

  “And if she sends me to the Abyss with the man she betrayed?” Randon demanded.

  “Then I’ll bring you back,” Kerreyder said.

  “I have sworn to you I mean you no mischief, Nightwind,” Lauren said on a long, annoyed sigh. “What more can I do?”

  “You can join Syntian Cree in the Primal Ooze,” Randon growled.

  Cree put out a blocking hand when Jaleel would have gone after Randon. “Don’t piss me off, demon. I’ve still got a splitting headache and I’m in the mood to stomp you into a greasy spot on your owner’s carpet.”

  “You could not,” Jaleel said, his chin in the air.

  Cree smiled nastily. “Wanna bet?”

  “Go cast your circle,” Kerreyder told Lauren. “We’ll be there when you are ready. The rest of you get the hell out of here so I can get dressed.” He snapped his attention to Randon. “And you? Let’s you and me have a little talk, incubus.”

  Sorn, Coulter and Lauren turned to the door. Cree—his stare fused with Jaleel’s—cocked his head toward the portal. “Beat feet,” he ordered.

  “Fuck you,” Jaleel mumbled as he moved past the Alpha.

  “Try it and see what happens,” Cree told him.

  Kerreyder sighed deeply once the room was empty save for him and Randon. He flung off the sheet and swung his legs from the bed. “Cree is a time bomb ticking down to detonation,” he said through clenched teeth. “I hope I’m gone before that temper of his goes off.” He snatched up his pants, drove one leg into them with a snort. “I doubt it will be a pretty sight.”

  Randon turned his gaze from the archdemon’s nakedness to watch the lightning that still sizzled. “This storm is either drawing energy from our anger or we are drawing anger from it. Cree’s headache is coming from it, as well.”

  “You may be right,” the archdemon said as he plucked his shirt from the chair on which he’d flung it. “The Storm Lord Aeral has got his skivvies in a wad tonight.”

  “Do you trust the witch?” Randon asked.

  “No but you can trust me, Kayle. I’ll not allow her to do harm to you. You have my word on it.” He put out his hand. “Trust me. You are our lady’s protector. I would never allow anything to happen to you.”

  “You could choose another for her,” Randon argued.

  “It doesn’t work that way. You are already bound through blood…” He stopped, frowned. “You need to take care of that technicality. You need to sign the book, make the covenant between you as soon as we return to Tearmann.”

  “I will,” Randon said. He looked down at the hand still being held out to him then clasped the other man’s wrist—warrior to warrior—as he locked gazes with him. “You have my word on it.”

  One quick downward snap of their hands sealed the bargain between them. As they released their grip, a savage boom of thunder shook the house.

  “I believe Lord Aeral approved,” Kerreyder quipped. “Now, let’s get this show on the road as the Terrans say
. None of us are going to get any more sleep this night.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “We’ve looked everywhere for her,” Dr. Alyn Matheny told the Supervisor’s assistant. “Her cell goes straight to voice mail.”

  “Where can she be?” Pearl Gillespie demanded, her hands on her ample hips. “She has patients backed up the wazoo!”

  “I’m starting to get worried,” Marti Lutz, the woman in charge of making Kenzi’s appointments said. She nibbled on her thumbnail. “It isn’t like her to miss an appointment.”

  “You’d best let the Supervisor know,” Alyn said. “I’m going to have security check on the inmates. The baginis showed up here out of the blue. They took her back to Baybridge in lockdown gear and hopped up on pairilis. We could have another creature running loose. The gods forbid some beast has Kenzi in its hands.”

  Pearl nodded crisply. “I’m on it,” she said, pivoted on the heels of her sensible shoes and marched off.

  Concerned, Alyn went to Kenzi’s apartment after contacting security to do a check on all inmates. When he received no answer at her apartment, he used the vid-com beside the elevator to touch base with Pearl at the Supervisor’s office.

  “Any word?” he asked as soon as Pearl’s image appeared on the screen.

  “The Supervisor is detecting an anomaly on Level Five,” Pearl reported.

  “What kind of anomaly?”

  “A dead zone of some sort. He has gone to investigate. Oh, and all inmates are accounted for at present.”

  “Good to know. I’m on Three,” Alyn told her. “I’ll meet the boss on Five.”

  “Roger that,” Pearl said and the screen went blank.

  “Annoying woman,” Alyn grumbled as he pressed the button on the elevator.

  As he waited, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stirring and put a hand to the spot. About to turn around he experienced a strange electrical sensation along his spine. He stiffened, grunted as something pressed hard against him. When the elevator door opened he pitched forward onto the floor, writhed in agony for a moment then lay still staring up at the ceiling.

  “I’m in,” he said and got to his feet, straightened his tie and adjusted his lab coat.

  Behave as the healer would, Lilith told the creature that had invaded Alyn Matheny’s body. The Ridge Lord will not detect your presence.

  “Yes, Mother.”

  The mazikeen put the hands of its host behind the human’s back and bounced on the man’s toes, grinning at the sound of the shoe leather creaking. It was rare for the jinn-like being to venture from its lair but when it was allowed out to play, it always made sure it enjoyed itself. In their natural form they have wings and are invisible to the human eye though they can slip into any form it desires. Agents of magic and enchantment, they were born of the union between Lilith and Adam and in Jewish mythology are ranked between men and angels. As offspring of Lilith, they are entirely under her control.

  You may enjoy yourself, Shideem, Lilith whispered. Make your time count.

  “Yes, Mother!” the mazikeen agreed and bounced a few more times before doing a little jig, pumping the man’s arms, doing a short moon walk and ending with the robot. He sobered as the elevator reached Level Five.

  * * * * *

  Alexandru Hesar did not like coming to the morgue part of Level Five. He had a very strong case of necrophobia—an odd condition for a Shadowlord—and dead things were more than loathsome to him. But the anomaly he had sensed as he scanned the complex for the whereabouts of McKenzi Delaney had left him puzzled. Instinct and his Ridge Lord powers warned him only he could solve the mystery of the dead spot he was picking up.

  “Dead spot,” he mumbled as he pushed open one of the stainless-steel doors into the morgue. “An apt description for this vile place.”

  The moment he stepped inside the white-tiled room, he saw a hazy form—like a heat mirage—wavering over an autopsy table at the far end of the room. There was a hint of urine in the air mingling with the nauseating under scent of formaldehyde and methanol as well as other embalming solvents. He shuddered as the smells invaded his nostrils. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief to cover his nose.

  “Dr. Delaney?” he called out, pressing the crisp cotton to his face.

  “You can see me! Thank God. You can see me! I’m here! I’m here!”

  The words came from the undulating haze on the table and he sighed.

  “Naamah or one of her ilk,” he said under his breath as he started toward the table.

  It was a camouflaging spell that only those with certain psi abilities could create or detect. The ability was called apportation and it involved disappearing, materializing or teleporting an object. In this case, someone or something had disappeared McKenzi Delaney. Undoing the spell she had cast was as simple as touching the haze and the enchantment would disappear.

  As soon as he reached out his hand and laid it on the haze, the wavering vanished to reveal Kenzi strapped to the table.

  “It was the Saurian,” she said. “She—”

  “We’ll get into all that later,” he said, his voice muffled by the cloth. Hating to do so, he poked his handkerchief into his pocket so he could undo the straps.

  “Let me, boss.”

  He glanced around, relieved to see Dr. Matheney coming toward him. “Thank you,” he said, replacing the handkerchief over his nose.

  “Hey, lady,” Matheney said. “Strange place to be taking a power nap, don’t you think?”

  Dr. Delaney gave a nervous laugh but the humor did not reach her eyes. Alexandru knew she was barely hanging onto her dignity as Matheney unbuckled the restraints. A pool of urine lay under the table and the front of her uniform pants bore a dark stain.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, tears forming.

  “No need to be,” Alexandru told her.

  “All right if I take her up to her room?” Matheney asked as he helped her to sit up.

  “Of course. When you are ready, come to my office and we’ll discuss the matter of the Saurian.”

  “This has something to do with Randon,” she said.

  “I am sure it does but don’t worry about that now. You are safe.” He gave Matheney a stern look. “Stay with her until she feels up to coming to see me. I’ll have guards posted outside her door.”

  “The Saurian looked like one of the guards,” Delaney said.

  “Aye, the females are shape shifters,” he told her. “I’ll make gods-be-damned sure your guards are the real things.” He bowed slightly and turned to go.

  “It was Naamah who did this,” Delaney called out.

  “I know,” he acknowledged without looking around. He could not get out of the morgue fast enough.

  Kenzi was humiliated as she walked beside Alyn. Though he was smiling and carrying on a normal conversation, he was making her jittery just by his buoyant behavior. There she was with sopping wet pants that smelled to high heaven, her arms clasped defensively around her, looking over her shoulder with every step—expecting the Saurian or Naamah to materialize at any moment—and he was talking about a feast he planned to have at breakfast? She looked up at him, wishing he’d shut up.

  “I find I am absolutely in love with a good old-fashioned Southern breakfast,” he said. His hands were in the pockets of his lab coat and he was practically bouncing as he walked. “Home fries with onions, sausage patties, crispy bacon, a slice of fried ham, grits—I love grits!—scrambled eggs, a tall stack of toast slathered with blackberry jelly. Heaven!” He smacked his lips. “Absolute heaven!”

  They had reached her door and she wished she could bid him a quick good-bye and duck inside but he’d been ordered to stay with her.

  “Next to sex, it’s the best.”

  Those words made her stare at him. For some reason they brought a chill and the idea of being alone with him in her apartment was even less appealing. She decided to wait until the guards arrived before going into the apartment.

  “What are we
waiting for?” he asked, grinning down at her. The grin made her feel as though she were an appetizer at one of the gourmet meals he’d described on the way up in the elevator.

  “Ah, I wanted to talk to the guards,” she lied.

  “They’ll let us know when they’re here.” He nudged his chin toward the entry panel. “Let’s go inside.” He rocked upward on his toes and his eyes literally glittered with anticipation.

  “I…I’d rather not,” she said, edging away from him. Her inner voice was screaming at her to run.

  He cocked his head to one side, his smile slipping a notch. “Why not?” he asked in an almost childlike voice.

  Her heart began pounding in her chest. The man standing in front of her either wasn’t Alyn or Alyn wasn’t the man she thought he was. She took another step back.

  “I just w-want to talk to the guards.”

  His smile faded completely. “You don’t need to.” He took a step toward her.

  Kenzi put up her hand. “Don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “But you’re my feast,” he said and the words felt like ice water flowing down her back.

  “F-feast?” she questioned. She could barely breathe for he was staring intently into her eyes and that stare seemed to be sucking all the air out of her lungs. Blackness played around her peripheral vision as she backed up even more.

  “Mine,” he said and licked his lips. “Mine to enjoy.” He reached for her. “All night. A feast of sweet, succulent flesh.”

  Then he reached for her.

  * * * * *

  Randon stood in the doorway to the bedroom from whence Lauren Fowler had sent her husband back to Abyss. On the floor was a thick black carpet with two golden-rimmed circles. The outside circle was emblazoned with five strange blue symbols painted on a golden background. The inner circle encompassed much of the room and its background was black. A five-pointed star with intersecting lines lay in the center of the large circle. Triangles formed where the outside lines of the star met with the inner most-like constituting a pentagram and with each triangle dyed a different color. The top point of the star was dark blue in color. The eastern point was dark deep green while the western point was dark brown. The southeastern leg of the star was gray and the southwestern was red. The pentagram in the center of the star was black on a gold background.