The Demon and the Succubus
Page 22
Perhaps he was a selfish prick. “Is she all right?” he finally managed.
“Define ‘all right,’” she countered before she turned and walked off down the hall leaving him to follow or not.
Levi followed, stopping now and then to catch his breath when the movement aggravated the multiple breaks up and down his arm. What the hell had he been thinking trying to deck an Archangel? No wonder women liked to prattle on about male stupidity, because men like him proved the axiom daily.
He thought about heading directly toward Amalya’s quarters, but he agreed with Jezebeth on one thing, he needed to get his arm looked at. Finding Amalya only to pass out when he tried to hold her wasn’t a good plan. And that was if she even let him near her. Amalya’s temper may not be as explosive and creatively descriptive as Jezebeth’s, but it was still very formidable, as he well remembered.
Jezebeth led him down a long hallway and into a room at the end where two incubi who reminded him of boy band singers manned what looked like an infirmary of some sort. “This is Levi and he’s apparently broken some bones.” She chucked her thumb over her shoulder toward him.
When identical smirks graced both incubi’s faces, Jezebeth scowled. “I didn’t break them. But that doesn’t mean I’m not considering giving him a matching set.” She glared at both men until they dropped their gazes. When they did, she turned for the door without looking at Levi.
“Set the breaks and don’t bother being gentle. Once he’s recovered enough to get around, let Lilith know he’s back. But under no circumstances is he to see Amalya until you hear differently from either myself or Lilith.” She started to leave and then turned back. “Got that?”
“You won’t stop me from seeing her.” The angry words were out before he could think better of saying them. Making a further enemy out of Jezebeth wasn’t a good approach.
“Try it and you’ll find yourself back in the human realm without a pass faster than you can call me a bloody bitch,” she said in a pretty close imitation of his own clipped British accent.
She left, slamming the door behind her, and he had to restrain himself from bolting up and going after her. Even if he hadn’t done something stupid and gotten himself badly injured, there were political waters to be navigated here. And to complicate matters even more—stubborn females were involved.
21
Misgivings curled through Amalya as she stood damp and cold inside a fancy drawing room decorated with priceless antiques. She’d never asked Levi if he had a duchess, but apparently there was a fullfledged one about to come through that door.
A quick spurt of cowardice made her want to bolt before she had to face the woman who shared Levi’s title, and his bed. But anger, betrayal, and jealousy rooted her to the spot and demanded answers.
Amalya had been the other woman countless times throughout her life—especially after she began working in brothels. Both men and women would come in for experiences they weren’t getting or were afraid to ask for at home. But in all those instances, she’d known up front and there hadn’t been any emotional attachment between her and the client.
Things with Levi had gone way past that.
He’d slipped past her protective walls and seen the real her—and accepted her as she was. Or so she’d thought before he’d walked out without a word.
She sensed a change in the air even before the doorknob slowly turned and the door slid inward.
Demon.
Not particularly high in the pecking order judging from its power signature but demon nonetheless.
Amalya glanced around to evaluate her escape options. There was a window along the far wall, but she’d have to pass the door to reach it. She snatched the switchblade out of her bra and quickly transferred it to the pocket of her jeans, keeping her fingers closed around it as she stepped back to put distance between herself and whoever was about to come through the door.
An impeccably dressed woman about Amalya’s own height entered the room, carefully closing the drawing room door behind her. Physically she looked to be in her late twenties with sea green eyes and rich brown hair worn in a fashionable style.
Amalya immediately knew the woman before her was a demon and had no illusions that the duchess, if that’s who now stood before her, recognized Amalya as a succubus.
“You must be Amalya. I apologize for keeping you waiting.” She raked a dismissive gaze up and down Amalya leaving no doubt as to her impressions.
“Is Levi here?” Amalya tried to keep her expression polite while she tried to figure out what was going on.
“I’m afraid Levi has stepped out.”
A half-truth.
“But I did want to meet you.”
Full truth this time.
She crossed the room to Amalya and gestured to two comfortable-looking chairs placed near the fireplace. “You look cold. Why don’t we sit and have a little talk. I’ll ring for some tea.”
Amalya stiffened. There was a price on her head in the demon realm. Now that she realized Levi wasn’t here, exhaustion seeped through her, weighing her down like a bellyful of lead and she wished she’d never left Lilith’s lair this morning.
The demon pulled a long braided silk cord that hung in the corner of the room and then snapped her fingers so a crackling fire roared to life just behind the fireplace grate. “Please sit.”
A fire demon. Even low-level fire demons could be dangerous, for that one gift she’d just witnessed.
Amalya slowly backed away toward the door. “I’m sorry for intruding. I’ll come back when Levi is here.”
“He and his father, Thomas, fought constantly. Did you know that?” The clipped cultured words reminded Amalya of Levi, even as shock at their meaning slapped at her. Why would the demon choose to share that with her?
The demon laughed. “I’ll take that as a no. Obediah has always been a very private man.” She sat in one of the chairs she’d gestured to a moment ago, crossing her legs at the ankle, her posture impeccable and graceful. “Please, sit. I really just want some time to speak with you.”
Truth.
That combined with the yearning sadness lacing the demon’s voice made Amalya cross the room and sink down into the other chair. The warmth from the fire reached out like a welcome caress, chasing the chill from her skin and loosening some of the cold deep in her gut.
The sound of the door opening made Amalya bolt to her feet, cursing herself for believing a demon. She tightened her fingers around her switchblade and turned to watch the same butler who had opened the front doors carrying a tray so laden with food she was surprised it didn’t topple him.
Amalya stepped back, watching him carefully while he laid everything on the table just next to the chairs where the demon still sat.
Her stomach rumbled at the array of small sandwiches, scones, and tea, but she refused to let down her guard. This could still be a trap.
It had definitely not been wise to leave Lilith’s lair before recovering fully.
“Thank you, Jenkins.” The demon waved the man away and began pouring two cups of tea. When the butler disappeared and shut the door behind him, Amalya waited for her fight-or-flight response to kick in, but when none came the knots in her belly slowly unwound.
“Please, my dear. It’s only tea. It’s perfectly safe, and as I said, I’d like to speak with you.”
More truth.
Amalya couldn’t deny her own gift’s answers, but she knew she needed to stay wary. Besides, the temptation of finding out more about Levi’s past beckoned like forbidden fruit—a fitting comparison with both a succubus and a demon in the room.
She slowly sat and reluctantly unwrapped her fingers from her switchblade before she removed her hand from her pocket.
The demon smiled and handed Amalya a cup of tea perched on a dainty china saucer. “Please help yourself. It’s nice now and then to not stand on ceremony. Usually I have to worry about the smallest faux pas showing up in the morning gossip columns.” She sighed,
and for the first time Amalya saw the weariness of the millennia in her eyes. “The intricacies of the supernatural world puts the humans’ backbiting efforts to shame, but at least in situations like this, we can be who we are.”
Amalya had often felt like that herself. Only another being who had watched most of human existence go by could understand. But that didn’t mean she was ready to let her guard down entirely. She waited until the demon added cream and sugar to her own tea and then took a drink before she did the same. As a succubus, she was immune to most human poisons, but with a demon, Amalya knew she needed to be on guard—truthful statements or not.
The tea was rich and dark and Amalya wanted to relax back in the chair and sink into the comfort it offered as its warmth spilled through her. Added to the warming effects of the fire, she’d almost begun to feel normal again.
“Let’s not waste time on small talk, shall we? Officially, I’m Cate or Catherine Spencer, the Dowager Duchess of Ashford.”
Dowager duchess. Amalya bit back a sigh of relief. The woman in front of her was Levi’s . . .
“Yes, I’m Obediah’s mother. And as I’m sure you already know, I’m a fire demon.” She gestured toward the fireplace. “I am called Caldriel.” She smiled, but the expression never reached her green eyes.
Amalya stiffened in her seat. “Why would a demon of any type give me her real name?” Names had power, especially among the denizens of Heaven and Hell. That’s why so many beings used false names.
Amalya was glad the same thing didn’t apply equally to succubi and incubi, although it did with Lilith. That was how so many unwary mortals found themselves in servitude to the queen after accidentally summoning her and being tempted into agreements with her. Amalya still wondered what deal Levi had made with Lilith. Lilith had said it was for information that Levi no longer needed, but what could be so important that he’d risk his life to learn it?
Caldriel set down her teacup. “Let’s be honest. I know there’s a price on your head and that you have very little reason to trust me. With you having the power of my true name, we’re on more even footing and we can sit and talk.”
Truth.
Amalya studied the woman across from her. Her words were true, and besides, Caldriel could’ve summoned Semiazas while Amalya had waited for Levi. There was no reason to stall her—for the sake of his revenge, Semiazas would’ve dropped everything and materialized here in an instant. “What did you mean when you said Levi stepped out? He’s not coming back, is he?”
Pain flashed through Caldriel’s green eyes. “No.”
Truth.
“But he was here? Earlier?”
“Yes. He came to see me. We fought, as usual, and he left. Most likely for good.”
Even if Amalya hadn’t felt the quick surge of truth to tell her Caldriel’s words were true, the stark expression and pain in the woman’s eyes was enough.
“Most likely to return to you.”
Caldriel’s simple pointed words sucker punched Amalya in the gut and she swallowed hard, not sure how to react. Could it be true? If she had just stayed at Lilith’s lair and finished recovering, Levi would’ve returned to her? She resisted the urge to laugh at herself and the unreasonable anger that had driven her to come after him.
“Do you love him?” Caldriel’s green gaze had turned intense, burning through Amalya, peeling back all her layers of protection until she felt naked in front of the woman’s gaze.
Her first instinct was to say no outright. After all, she hadn’t known Levi for long, and they were constantly fighting about something. “I care for him . . .” she began, and then trailed off as memories of her time with Levi flashed in front of her. Not just the parts where they’d saved each others’ lives, but the little smiles, the teasing laughs, and even the small gestures of encouragement that existed between the two of them and no one else.
Did that mean she loved him? She shook her head even as her gut answered a resounding yes. “No, I can’t . . .” She glanced up at Caldriel to find the woman watching her. “There’s Lilith . . . and Jethro—” She broke off, her thoughts swirling as she tried to make sense of this new and conflicting information.
The voice deep inside her remained insistent until she allowed herself to entertain the possibility. As soon as that last wall of denial had fallen, she knew.
Dear God, she’d gone and fallen in love with Levi.
That stubborn, pigheaded, chauvinistic, bossy, witty, smart, protective, sexy, wonderful man who made her feel like she was capable of anything she put her mind to. The man who challenged her to be the best person she could be. The one she’d followed straight into the mouth of danger without a second thought because she couldn’t stand the thought of being without him.
She shook her head in wonder as the newness of the realization warred with shock and surprise that she hadn’t figured it out sooner. Amalya raised her gaze to Caldriel’s. “But we fight all the time.”
Caldriel sighed and a small, sad smile curved her lips. “That’s how it was with me and Thomas. Levi’s father,” she supplied when Amalya’s brows furrowed. “He was so stubborn and outspoken it made me crazy. It didn’t matter that he was only a human and that I could live through a bullet wound and lift a carriage by myself. He still treated me as if I were the most precious, fragile thing in the world.” She shook her head, her gaze misted with memory. “I thought I could carve a place for myself in human society and then move on when that human died to the next. But Thomas got inside my skin, past my defenses, and I couldn’t help falling in love with him.”
Her gaze cleared and she looked straight at Amalya. “He knew what I was, and he didn’t love me despite it, he just loved me.”
Caldriel’s words resonated inside Amalya and they shared a look of complete understanding.
Caldriel set her tea aside. “I know Obediah hates me.”
When Amalya opened her mouth to object, Caldriel waved away her words before they could be spoken. “I’ve behaved very badly. Selfishly. His ire is no more than I deserve at this point. But he’s my son, and despite the fact of what I am, I love him and I care what happens to him.”
“Does he know?” The words were out before Amalya could think better of them, but rather than offense or pain, a look of puzzlement flashed across Caldriel’s features.
“That’s a good question. I’m not sure I’ve ever told him that. I’ve been too busy trying to convince him to do my bidding.” She laughed, but the sound was bitter. “I’d always thought the experience of becoming pregnant and having a child was overrated until I experienced it firsthand. I loved my son and raised him to be smart, independent, and most of all, a survivor. But I always took it for granted that Obediah would want the same things I did. I realize now that those very traits I instilled in him, drove a wedge between us when I tried to manipulate him.”
A twinge of regret sliced through Amalya. Succubi and incubi couldn’t reproduce. God periodically gifted Lilith with new fully formed succubi, but Amalya would never be able to have Levi’s child. “I think if I were gifted with a son, I’d want to make sure he heard those words as often as possible.” Her words sounded wistful and she forced a smile. “It’s never too late to tell him.”
Caldriel laughed. “It’s about bloody time I showed him, but my pride rebels against even that.” She waved away her own words. “When you came here looking for him, I was angry. You’d taken him away from me, lured him, tempted him.”
Amalya’s protective walls surged to life and she stiffened, waiting for the betrayal that still might come.
“But then I realized after speaking to you that I’m very glad Obediah has at least one woman he will accept love from. You should take your own advice and tell him.”
Amalya squirmed under Caldriel’s intense scrutiny, but damned if the demon wasn’t right. She’d be a coward not to confront Levi and at least be honest, no matter what the outcome. She set her tea aside and slowly stood. “It was nice to meet you.” She w
as surprised to find that statement true as she held out her hand and Caldriel rose and took it.
“Jenkins will see you out.” When Amalya relaxed her hand to pull away, Caldriel didn’t release her grip. “Take care of him.”
“I will,” she promised, and silently added, Whether or not he lets me.
22
Amalya made her way to the front doors without bothering to find Jenkins. The poor man probably had enough to do without walking her down a hallway and opening a door. Besides, too much of what she had learned still churned through her mind, leaving her off balance.
As she reached the front foyer, the large front doors beckoned like the promise of freedom as an overwhelming urge to find Levi burned through her.
Amalya stopped suddenly on the polished marble tile as icy tendrils of premonition tickled down her spine.
She stiffened as every sense came to full alert and told her to run.
The doorknob turned and the door swung inward before she could obey the command.
Too late! her fear screamed through her.
A familiar tall figure blocked the way.
“Semiazas.”
The word fell from her lips in a hissed whisper. She instinctively backed away, reaching inside her pocket to close her fingers over the comforting hardness of the switchblade. She yanked it from her pocket, pressing down the button until the blade slid out with a soft snick. She brandished it between them feeling silly when he only smiled down at her.
He stood wearing a suit that was straight out of Regency days complete with starched neckcloth and kidskin breeches that clung to his muscular thighs and tucked into dark boots. His dark hair curled over his high collar and his piercing blue eyes pinned her in place. He would be handsome except for the hate-twisted smile that curved his full lips and the hard coldness in his blue eyes.
“Hello, Amalya. It’s been too long.” He advanced so quickly she had barely registered the motion before he grabbed her hand that held the switchblade and forced her backward. She glanced left and right but knew, short of a miracle, there was no way she could run from Semiazas. He’d found her, and on the power scale he was a dragon and she was a kitten.