Tigress (Night Hawk Series)

by Taylor, J. E.

  Still, I fought, scratching and thrashing in their grasp until I was thrown to the floor in the middle of a semi-circular row of windows. I didn’t dare move, or take my gaze off the formidable man standing with his back to me. Lucifer looked so much more deadly than he had before and when he sent a raised eyebrow over his shoulder at me, fear struck my breath in place.

  He flicked his index finger to the side and it took a moment for me to understand the sharp instrument fitted over his finger tip. A platinum blade formed a single deadly claw and when he flicked it to the side again, Damian’s curses filled the room.

  Five years had made Lucifer a much deadlier foe. Instead of relying on the personal touch or a loaded gun, or even his demon horde, he was using every ounce of his power to inflict pain without touching Damian and his glare promised I was next.

  Even Damian’s pained cry didn’t unlock my muscles. It wasn’t until Lucifer fully turned that I found the strength to stand and adopt a glare, forcing my quaking muscles to still. No matter what happened, I couldn’t act until the sun hit the horizon and even then, Michael wasn’t sure it would be enough to save Damian.

  Lucifer’s features filled with fury and he swatted his hand to the side like he was flicking an annoying fly out of his way.

  An invisible hand hit my cheek, rocking my head to the side and spinning me with the force of a power punch. In the time I took to sprawl on my hands and knees, the pain flared, locking the air in my lungs. I felt like a hot iron branded my cheek and when the burn abated, I raised my hand to the spot, wincing at my own touch. When my vision cleared, I blinked at the image of Damian’s bare feet.

  My heart jumped into my throat at the odd streaks of color running down his jeans and the pool of deep crimson liquid at his feet. I forced my gaze up and a pain deeper than that branding my cheek shot through me at the full view of my broken husband. Deep, angry welts covered his torso and arms in patterns that set my blood boiling. The bastard played with him, carving crude tic-tac-toe games across his torso, drenching him in blood. The waistband of his jeans soaked the trails, turning the blue into a saturated purple that matched the patterns on his face where he had been beaten. Only his bright-blue eyes and the dark curls of his hair told me it was Damian suffering before me.

  A wordless scream of fury erupted and I stood, spinning in Lucifer’s direction. The scream cut off along with the flow of air and my glare dropped from the sadistic smile on his face to his hand, curling like the invisible fingers crushing my windpipe. The tear of fabric accompanied the slow and deliberate progress of his clawed finger through the air.

  Dark spots flared in front of my eyes and I blinked at the sound of Damian’s growling roar. The grip on my throat ceased and I crumpled to the floor wondering how the hell I was going to beat this asshat.

  I looked down and understood Damian’s growl. My clothing was now hanging by shreds, exposing my flesh to the roomful of demons and Lucifer alike. I glanced at Damian and if pain racked his beaten form, I couldn’t tell. He was straining against the platinum chains, his face a mask of fury that went beyond anything I had ever seen and I understood what Lucifer had in mind, or at least I thought I did, until he spoke.

  “I am not going to kill you,” Lucifer said and curled his finger, willing me to crawl to him. I tried to resist the hands dragging me forward, but it was as futile as wishing the sunrise away.

  “Instead, you will be my slave. My concubine.” He sent a wicked grin as I knelt at his feet, my gaze locked on the crotch of his pants and the bulge that appeared like a poisonous snake curled and ready to strike. “My whore.”

  I shivered as his fingers touched my face and tilted it so I looked up at him. “Until you’ve delivered an army of children and your womb can no longer conceive.” He glanced up at Damian. “Then I’ll let all the demons in hell have a turn at her.”

  “You fucker,” Damian whispered.

  “Once they’ve used her to within a breath of death, that’s when I’ll tear out her heart and drink the last drops of her precious trinity blood.”

  “Fuck you,” I growled but his laugh sent me into a fit of shivers.

  Lucifer’s hand clamped under my chin, his clawed finger piercing my cheek as he squeezed and pulled me to my feet. “If you insist,” he said and slammed me against the wall, his body pressing against me in an all too suggestive manner.

  “But, before I take what is rightfully mine, I want you to indulge me and give your husband a blow job before the sun cooks him alive.” The smile that accompanied the request sent terror through me.

  “I can’t,” I whispered.

  “Oh, come now. Mark told me that you had a mouth that won’t quit. I’d like to see you in action,” he sneered and glanced at Damian. “I’ll give you a dying wish. Would you like a blow job...or would you prefer to watch?”

  Damian blinked at the question and I had a moment of clarity when his eyes met mine. He pressed his lips together and they quivered and then his eyes met Lucifer’s gaze.

  “I think I’ll watch,” he whispered and a tear slid out of the corner of his eye.

  Lucifer’s eyebrow rose and he threw me toward Damian. I landed on my hands and knees at his feet and a quick glance over my shoulder into Lucifer’s malignant glare told me I didn’t have enough stall left. It was now or never and there was no way I would be reduced to Lucifer’s whore for the foreseeable future.

  Before the command left Lucifer’s lips, I shot to my feet, throwing myself toward Damian. I had a second where Damian’s gaze met mine and I knew he would do anything to avoid Lucifer’s plans, even if it screwed both of us. The minute my skin came in contact with his, I heard his sharp inhale and I flipped my hair out of the way, giving him full access to my throat.

  “Bite me,” I whispered and I saw the brief passage of lust overcome the pain just before he sank his teeth into my throat. Raw agony flared and I tightened my grip on him, knowing each pull of blood brought us closer to death.

  Death on our terms. Not Lucifer’s.

  With a yank, I found myself on the floor, dizzy and disoriented and Damian stood, defiant despite his blistered skin and the raw guttural groan of pain coming from his chest. His knees gave out and he collapsed, trying to draw his arms in as his body spasmed, his groan turning to a scream as my blood ate him from the inside out.

  I blinked at the ray of light filtering in the window, illuminating the wall behind Damian.

  “Please Michael,” I whispered, too softly for anyone to hear but Lucifer turned toward me anyway and the glare in his gaze froze my blood in place. I pushed with my legs, putting more distance between us and prayed that I could set Michael free before Lucifer reached me.

  Something to my right caught my attention and I nearly gasped when a demon tossed Michael’s unconscious body onto the floor, his face was the pale pallor of death and his chest lay still. I couldn’t even detect a pulse in his neck and despair wrapped around my heart.

  “You really think he can help you now?” Lucifer asked with a grin as wicked as my husband’s dying screams.

  My gaze darted from Michael’s prone body to Lucifer. Movement in the corner pulled my attention and Eve’s wide eyes met mine before falling on Michael. A wealth of emotion crossed her pale features and when her gaze transitions from me to Lucifer, her face scrunched into a feral snarl, making my focus snap in the same direction.

  Lucifer stood over Michael with a dagger clasped in his hands. He raised it over his head and closed his eyes, reciting an ancient alchemy.

  The stench of burning flesh filled the room and my gaze landed on Damian. Rays of sunshine encompassed his black curls, but he wasn’t burning.

  It was Eve and I swore my heart stopped. Her dark eyes held knowledge and love when they passed over me and the moment they took in Lucifer, her gaze altered, becoming silent and fierce. She streaked across the room with deadly intent written across her fiery features.

  Lucifer didn’t have a chance to react before Eve hit h
im full force, knocking him through the plate glass window but not before she ripped a mighty gash in his throat.

  I didn’t wait for him to return or for the shell shocked demons to react. I crawled to Michael’s body and grasped his head in my hands, praying his heart still carried a beat. The incantation tumbled from my lips and the flow of power drained me. Within a blink, Michael was on his feet in full angel form and every demon in the room fell under the heavenly burst of white light.

  The last thing that registered in my shell-shocked brain was Damian framed in sunshine, but before I could move, my vision flashed white and then faded.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  My eyes opened to a cloth wiping my forehead and I focused on the owner of the hand. Valerie smiled down at me.

  “Michael wasn’t able to heal you completely. He stopped the bleeding, but you’re going to have a scar.”

  “Damian?” I asked, pushing the cloth away. Sitting up wasn’t as easy as I assumed and when the dizziness gripped me, Valerie offered a hand to steady me.

  “He’s in your bedroom,” she whispered.

  “Where is Michael?”

  Valerie bit her lip and shrugged. “He said he needed to recharge and left me to watch over both of you.”

  I could tell from her tone, she wasn’t very happy with our winged grandfather. I could only guess where an archangel went to recharge and I looked up at the ceiling. Michael must have gone back home to heaven and I sighed.

  “Did he say anything about Lucifer?”

  Valerie sent a rueful smile in my direction. “He said to tell you that Eve did as much damage as you had before she died, so you’ve got some time.”

  I closed my eyes and let out a breath before meeting her gaze. “How long have we...” I couldn’t formulate the words and she just offered a smile.

  “You’ve been in and out for a few days, but this is the first time you’ve been lucid.” Valerie picked up the cup from the coffee table and offered it to me. I took it and was rewarded with the cool tartness of an orange-pineapple blend.

  After a few sips, I handed it back to her.

  “Can you take me to see him?”

  Valerie hesitated and met my gaze. “He doesn’t look that great,” she said.

  After what I witnessed at the house, I’d say he probably looked about as appealing as one of the victims of a nuclear holocaust, but I needed to see him, to touch him, to make sure he still drew a breath. I gave a curt nod and pushed to my feet.

  Valerie took hold of my elbow and steadied me as she led me to my bedroom. The images playing in my head of what might be beyond the door made my feet as heavy as brick slabs and I forced myself forward. Valerie pushed the door open and stayed in the entry. I met her gaze, then took a deep breath and stepped into the room.

  I wasn’t prepared for the sight in front of me. My gaze landed on Damian painted in sunlight; his torso visible and devoid of any evidence of Lucifer’s torture. Scar-free and beautiful under a thick sheen of sweat and my hand drew over my mouth, covering the gasp of surprise.

  Bags of ice rested along his body and an I.V. drip hung from a metal rod next to the bed. I followed the line of clear liquid and my gaze landed on his wrist.

  His bound wrist. Both arms were bound in soft restraints that reminded me of those in a mental institution and I glanced over my shoulder at Valerie, cocking an eyebrow in a silent question.

  “We strapped him down so he wouldn’t hurt himself,” she said, answering my question before I could voice it.

  “Oh,” I whispered and shuffled across the floor with the last of my energy. The exertion took what little strength I had, sapping it from my bones and I collapsed in the soft cushioned chair next to the bed.

  I have no idea how long I stared at his perfect form, still trying to piece together all that had happened since Lilith shot me with the antidote. Slowly, I reached for his hand, but the heat radiating from him sent my blood racing. My heart tripped in my chest and fear dried my mouth. No human could radiate that much heat and I shot my gaze to Valerie.

  “Fever?” I asked, knowing it was an asinine question, but looking for confirmation anyway.

  Valerie just nodded.

  “How high?”

  “Last I checked, he was at one hundred and five, which is much better than when Michael first brought him in.” She stepped into the room. “I’ve got enough intravenous drips to last a month and if he hasn’t woken by then, I’ll have to figure out how to get more.”

  I dropped my gaze to my fingertips for a moment, wondering if my touch would spawn angry blisters like before. Dread encompassed me and I reached for his hand again, hesitating before I touched his hot skin. Holding my breath, I dropped my hand on top of his and glanced at his slack face for a reaction, any reaction, and received nothing.

  When I pulled my hand away, my gaze locked at his unblemished skin and my heart started a drum beat in my chest that I felt through my entire form. He wasn’t allergic to my touch anymore. I’m not sure if it was the sob that broke from my chest or the look on my face that set Valerie in motion, but I launched myself on top of Damian, planting kisses from his forehead all the way down his face, leaving a trail of tears along my frantic path.

  “Naomi, he’s burning up and your body heat isn’t going to help,” Valerie whispered after a few minutes of my emotional display.

  I turned toward her. Of all the people in the world, she had to understand what the ability to touch him without harm meant to me. She had to understand my need to be near him right now, but all I saw was her soft concern along with the underlying warning.

  “I’ll make you a deal, if he starts the chills again, you can warm him, okay?”

  Begrudgingly, I pulled myself off his prone form and slid back into the chair. Valerie picked up his wrist and checked his pulse. “This isn’t covered in medical school,” she said with a hint of a smile and met my gaze. “I’m not sure what to do with him beyond keeping him hydrated and keeping his fever in check.”

  I sighed. “How much school have you missed?”

  “I’m on break until Monday, so your timing worked out. Once you get your bearings, I’ll need to go over what you need to do when I go back to class.”

  “Did Michael say when he should wake up?”

  Valerie met my gaze but she didn’t speak. Not at first, and then she sighed.

  “Michael didn’t know if he’d ever wake up.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight - Damien

  I opened my eyes and squinted, disoriented.

  Moving my head brought a fresh wave of pain and I closed my eyes against the brightness. A cool breeze swept over my skin and I curled tighter into a ball, my stomach clenched and I ground my teeth against the groan that formed in my throat.

  I must be in hell, I thought but the soft stroke of fingers that ran across my forehead and into my hair dulling the throbbing pain in my temple, told me otherwise and I chanced opening one eye.

  Naomi, smiled down at me in a brightly lit room.

  “Hey, babe,” she whispered and my gaze dropped to the bandage on her throat and then back to her dark and concerned eyes.

  I tried to move, but my muscles protested, screaming in a new kind of agony.

  Her hand came to rest on my chest and I found the strength to lift my head for a moment and stare at the contact. Her hand on my skin and my gaze snapped back to hers, but not before the fact my chest was clear of all scars registered. My head fell back onto the soft down and I blinked the room into focus.

  My breath locked in my throat at the yellow streaks of sunshine filling the room, creating patterns on the wall and creeping onto the bed. Millenniums of instinct took over and fear gripped my muscles, forcing them into action. I pushed myself into a sitting position, right into the shard of light and I tensed, waiting for the pain.

  Expectations of burning flashed over my skin, creating a wetness that I didn’t comprehend, but no fire, no stench of burning flesh and then I realized Naomi was
speaking, and her hands were on my shoulders, pushing me back into the bed.

  Neither the sun nor her touch burned and my jaw dropped with surprise. It had been over two thousand years since the sun hit my face and the only logical explanation popped out in the form of a question.

  “Is this heaven?”

  Her chuckle and the sparkle in her eyes gave me pause and then she shook my head. “No, sweetheart, this isn’t heaven and the last few weeks have been a nightmare. I thought I lost you at least a dozen times.” Her eyes filled with tears and she pulled me into a fierce hug that made me wince.

  “What the hell happened?” I asked when she broke free.

  “Do you remember biting me?”

  I shivered and nodded. I had intended to drain the life from her so Lucifer wouldn’t get the chance to defile her, but he caught onto that and yanked her from my lips. I barely hung on because, while her blood was as sweet as I remembered, it roasted my insides more than a straight fifth of Jack Daniels.

  “I remember,” I said and reached up running my fingers over the bandage. It was her turn to wince and I pulled my hand away. “But that still doesn’t explain this?” I moved my fingers into the sunlight.

  “I guess my blood delivered the cure without killing you.”

  The cure?

  My hands flew to my face expecting a wrinkled mass of skin, but all I felt was the scratch of wiry hair. I sent a question in her direction.

  “Three weeks in a coma,” she whispered and ran her hand down my cheek. “You’ve got a pretty thick layer of stubble.”

  All I could think about was Lilith’s warning that the cure ages vampires and I swallowed the growing sphere of dread.

  “How old...” I couldn’t finish and my gaze dropped to my hands. They didn’t seem to have aged, but the way my body felt, who the hell knew.

  “You haven’t aged a day. You’re still twenty-five.”

  The shock hit harder than I could handle and I forced my legs over the side of the bed. I needed to see and she seemed to understand, coming to my side and wrapping her arm around my waist, she helped me to my feet. Every muscle ached and I nearly collapsed when I tried to take that first step but she held on.