The Kiss of Death

by Auryn Hadley

  "Great defense." Nick stood in the doorway, exhaustion written across his face.

  I couldn't help but surge to my feet when I saw him. "You're back!"

  He nodded slowly. "Beelzebub sent you a message, Lucifer."

  "I know. He's going to kick my ass."

  Nick shook his head and staggered to the couch. "Nah. He said he understands, and if I trust you, he'll give you a chance." He tried to smile, but his lips didn't quite make it. "He also said if you fuck up, he's chopping you into tiny pieces and feeding you to hatchlings."

  "Baby dragons," Luke told me. "I think I'm ok with that."

  "Good, because he's stopping by tomorrow." Nick leaned his head back. "I'd kill for a coffee."

  I was the closest to the door. "I can do that." So I hurried into the kitchen, nearly colliding with Sam. "Nick needs coffee," I said.

  "Yeah, I felt him come back." He handed me the coffee and a beer. "Give that to them, I'll bring you another."

  "Thanks, Sam."

  I'd finally started to find my way around. I still hadn't found a bathroom on the first floor, but I could make it from the coffee pot to the living room without getting lost. Returning, I passed Luke the beer and moved to sit beside Nick, careful not to spill the overfull cup.

  "Thanks, dove." He sipped at it gratefully. "I didn't expect you to be up and around."

  "Really?"

  He shook his head. "Not with that much aether or after that much excitement." He leaned his head back again, closing his eyes.

  Luke tapped his chest, then gestured to Nick. It took me a second, but I realized he was suggesting I give him a little more aether, the only problem was that I didn't know exactly how. I chewed at my lip, trying to remember what had happened before while Sam made his way back in.

  Luke took that as a sign to start talking. "Uriel said Gabe's fucked up."

  Nick nodded and moved his hand to my knee, draping one of my legs over his. "Good. One less thing to worry about tonight."

  It seemed so casual, just hanging out on the sofa, talking about destroying angels and reviving demons. Like this was no big deal at all. Just a normal day's work. Somehow, that also made it feel a little more real.

  Shifted sideways with my leg draped across Nick's muscular thigh, I tuned out their plans to stop the portal. Instead, I found myself trailing my fingers down the back of Nick's neck. His long, silky hair slid through my hands like ink. He leaned into the touch, but his attention was focused on the larger threat.

  It didn't take long before I realized he'd already become more vibrant. Unfortunately, he did, too. His hand reached up to catch mine, and he pulled it away slowly. "Stop that," he whispered.

  "Feel better?"

  His attention had shifted completely to me, shutting out both Luke and Sam. "Much." A roguish smile teased his lips, drawing my eye. "The problem is you don't know when to stop."

  "And when should I stop?"

  Nick's eyes held mine. "Before I tell Sam and Luke to leave."

  Sam laughed, breaking the mood and pulling me back to the present. "You want to screw the Muse, you take her to your room or we get to enjoy the show."

  "One of theirs, at least," Luke mumbled.

  Nick's head whipped around in surprise. "One of ours?"

  "She's moving in," Luke said. "The red room, I think."

  "I like red," I agreed.

  Sam chuckled. "Good, because it's next to his."

  Nick looked back at me. "When did this happen? You ok with this?"

  "While you were playing back home, and ok is a good word to use." I shrugged, trailing my fingers down his neck one last time. "I can admit that I was wrong. And I'm pretty sure Gabe is going to be pissed."

  "To put it mildly," Luke added.

  "I don't have any family who'll miss me, and I'm not the type to just make friends –"

  "Thanks," Sam teased.

  I waved him down. "Human friends. Luke can fix shit at school and I really need to learn how to use this stuff." I wiggled my fingers. "Which means I don't have time for college anyway. Not if I want to stay alive, and I kinda do."

  Nick nodded, but it wasn't enthusiastically. "I'm sorry, little dove."

  "It's ok. Who knows, maybe I can gather enough aether to wake up some more of your friends?"

  Nick grabbed my hand. "No," he said. "You're not reaping the dead."

  "Why not?"

  Sam whistled softly. "Uh oh," he muttered.

  "You have no idea what that would do to you." For the first time, Nick looked intent enough to convince me he was a demon.

  I wasn't scared, though. "Then explain it."

  "You really want to see hundreds of people die, at your touch, just so you can wake up a legion?" He shook his head, long hair waving against his chest. "Over and over, they beg you to fix them, and you can't."

  "There are things worse than death, Nick." I gestured to Luke. "Angels are a pretty good example, I think."

  "Hey!" We both ignored Luke's protest.

  I went on. "I'm a Muse, right? Well, what am I supposed to do if not help?"

  "Inspire people. Change the world. Protect humans. Create poets. That's what you're supposed to do, Sia. Not worry about our war!"

  Grinding my teeth, I lifted my chin. "Then why were you looking for me?"

  "Busted." Sam raised his beer in tribute to my argument.

  "Stay out of this," Nick snapped.

  Luke tapped his own bottle to Sam's. "A lover's quarrel, how cute."

  I grabbed Nick's face and turned it back to me. "Let me make this real clear, Satanael. You can't stop me. Every Muse is different, right? Every Muse is influenced by her culture? Well, this is mine. Humans suck, demons are my only friends, and I fucking hate angels. Not you, Luke."

  "Thanks."

  I smiled quickly but went on before I lost the point. "I have a talent that is impressive enough to alter physics, and if I understand correctly, it's kinda a big deal. Well, that means that no matter what I do, I'm fucked." Sam choked, trying to swallow his beer before he spit it across the floor, but I ignored him. "If the best aethersmith in Daemin is willing to teach me how to use this little gift, then the least I can do is help y'all wake up your friends, protect your home, or whatever it is that my friends need."

  Silence hung in the air as Nick just looked at me. His eyes flicked between both of mine, and the corner of his lip lifted a couple of times as thoughts shuffled through his mind. I refused to look away, but I hoped he wouldn't leave me hanging too long – and that I hadn't upset him.

  Finally, he nodded. "On one condition."

  "What?"

  "You learn how to control it first, then reap one, and only one, soul. If two days later, you still want to do this, I'll teach you everything I know."

  "A deep red," Luke said to Sam.

  "Silk," Sam agreed.

  "What?" I looked at them, completely confused.

  Luke smiled back. "Your robe, Lady Death. They always expect you to have a robe. I think every demon wears one in the corridor."

  "You're a little ahead of yourselves," Nick told them.

  Sam took another long drink. "You wish." He gasped as he swallowed. "This one's not like the others."

  "The others?" I asked.

  "Muses," Luke said.

  "Y'all hang out with a few?"

  "Oh no," Sam assured me. "Most Muses are annoying, spoiled, temperamental brats. People adore them and shower them with everything they ever desired."

  "Wait." I sat up, pulling my legs from Nick's lap. "I was ridiculed as a kid. The stereotypical redheaded stepchild type thing."

  Sam shrugged. "Redheads are hot; kids, not so much."

  "I wasn't showered with gifts or even liked by anyone."

  Nick looked at me slowly. "Go on?"

  "I was abandoned at a fire station on Parker Street. That's how I got my last name. They never figured out who did it, but it wasn't like they had surveillance either."

  Nick nodded, his attentio
n hanging on every word. "And then?"

  "Um, I supposedly got bounced from my first foster home for hating angels. I refused to go to church because of the pictures of angels, but I don't remember any of that. It's just what they put in my file."

  By this time, Luke and Sam were sitting up, listening as closely as Nick. I swore I'd told them most of this, but realized it had been pieces to each of them.

  "What else?" Luke asked.

  I lifted my hands in surrender. "There was some deal about me being addicted to something when they found me, but they couldn't figure out what from my blood work. I mean, I was five, so not like still latched onto the tit, right? Whatever it was, I had to be taking it, or given it."

  "Shit," Sam breathed, but Nick held up his hand, urging me to keep going.

  "So, I got picked on for being a freak as a kid. I didn't do so well in school, but I kept my grades high enough to graduate, and when I turned eighteen, I moved out. Well, it was a pretty clear agreement between my foster parents and myself. Soon as I turned eighteen, I moved out or they'd kick me out."

  "But you always liked the arts?" Nick asked.

  "Yeah. Took ballet as a kid and had the little solo bit. Did gymnastics when I was twelve. Played clarinet in band. That sorta thing. Um, I'm a failure at sports, but learned to play the piano in junior high."

  "Poetry?" Sam asked.

  "A little here and there in high school. Mostly dark, brooding, angsty crap. You know, pretty typical for a teenage human girl."

  Nick grabbed my arm gently. "How long did it take you to break the addiction, and what were your symptoms?"

  "I dunno, a couple of months, maybe?" I realized they were all looking at me a little too intently. "Why?"

  "What symptoms, Sia?"

  "Um, they said I acted drunk half the time, and that I'd throw things, break things, and just have crazy tantrums. I guess I was pretty evil." I tilted my head, lifting my eyebrows. "Why?"

  He still didn't answer, looking over to Luke instead. "As a five-year-old?"

  "She's warping the veils," Luke said, sounding unsure.

  "How many people did you hurt?" Sam asked.

  I looked up, sure the guilt was on my face. "A few. It seems I was a spoiled brat who couldn't be controlled until I was like seven or eight. Again, I don't remember hardly any of that. I was little."

  Sam grinned, glancing to the others before he nodded. "How?" he asked me. "What did you do that hurt people?"

  "I would have these tantrums, and I guess I threw things? I know I broke one foster mom's arm when she tried to stop me, but that's about it. Why?"

  Nick reached over and grabbed Luke's beer, taking a long sip before answering. "You weren't addicted to a drug." He chuckled and took another drink then passed the bottle back. "Sia, you've been pulling aether since you were a child. You were high on life, little dove. No wonder you can drain a damned angel."

  Chapter 25

  Something about my revelation inspired Nick to start teaching me that night. Luke promised he'd tie up all my loose ends and Sam swore he'd help move my things over in the morning, then both retired. Listening to their evening routine was oddly comfortable. For my entire life, I'd lived with people I barely knew, and I'd always felt out of place, but not here.

  Luke had become someone I thought of as a friend, and Sam was the partner in crime type. They didn't look down on me for loving the arts. Nope, they said it was a sign of my abilities. They didn't care that I was poor, wore clothes that weren't exactly fashionable, and tended to say what was on my mind. They looked beyond those things and made me feel like I actually was a welcome part of their group. It made the idea of suddenly moving in with them easier to accept.

  And then there was Nick. As I followed him across the house to his study, I remembered how perfect he'd seemed that first day. He was beautiful – insanely beautiful in a way that no human could ever match – but he was a bit overprotective. It was cute, in a frustrating sort of way. A part of me liked having someone care enough to stand up to me, but he always tried to pick the wrong fights. That, or I did. I wasn't exactly sure which, yet.

  I think most of it came back to my new reality. Nick expected me to freak out. Hell, in some ways I wanted to, but what was the point? I'd always been more of a doer than a freaker. I think a lot of that was because I'd always had to take care of myself. Spending time bawling my eyes out only made things worse, so while all of this stuff might be crazy, it was also happening. I mean, I'd just seen "Heaven." It didn't get much more real than that, and if I wanted to make sure I didn't go back, then this had to become my new normal, and fast.

  Grabbing coffee when we passed the kitchen, Nick pointed out the guest bathroom, his lip twitching to fight a smile when I thanked him. He listed off a few other rooms, making me aware of exactly how large the place was before stepping into his office. Again, my skin tingled when I crossed the doorway.

  "Warded?" I asked.

  He smiled. "Yeah. So if I blow something up, Luke's whole house isn't lost."

  "Yeah, that would be a waste. This place is huge and has to be like a hundred years old. So it's Luke's?"

  "Yep." He sank into a plush leather chair, carefully setting his cup on the desk, and gestured for me to take the couch. "Sam owns a castle in Europe. Romania or someplace."

  "And you?"

  He glanced away, but smiled. "I have a couple of places. Cute little cabin up in northern Ontario that we built in the 1800s, an apartment in Dubai, and the island."

  "An island?"

  He sipped at his coffee, those dark eyes smiling at me. "Just a little rock in the water. Nothing special. We've inherited or acquired a few safe spots over the years."

  "Like a whole island?"

  "Yeah. Claimed it in the fifteenth century when ocean travel was so dangerous, and I just keep transferring it to new identities. It's my sanctuary."

  "Damn." I couldn't imagine owning a house, let alone an entire island.

  "It's easy to accumulate things when you have a few thousand years to build it up." He shrugged. "It's a lot harder to keep track of it. We have specialists to handle most of our financial issues, though, making sure bank accounts stay topped up and passing things down when one alias is old enough to die. That's what I was doing the first week of classes. Making sure I had a verifiable identity."

  "So other demons handle that? Do you know all of them?"

  He nodded. "There aren't that many of us. I mean, we aren't all friends, but after a few million years, it's hard not to at least talk to everyone once."

  "How many?"

  He grinned. "Guess."

  "I dunno, six hundred and sixty-six?"

  Nick lifted his cup and took another sip. "Exactly. Same number of Angels."

  "How many are sleeping?"

  The enthusiasm drained from his face. "Three hundred and forty-two, I mean forty-one."

  I sucked in a breath. "So more than half."

  He nodded slowly. "Only about seventeen angels are unaccounted for, and those bodies are lost."

  "Lost?"

  "Yeah, we don't die, but in order to be refilled, we need to know where the body is. Sometimes they turn up on one plane or another. Or if they were in pieces, it takes a while for the molecules to reform. Longer on worlds with less aether."

  "Wait." I made a circle with my hand, begging him to go back. "You mean, if y'all were chopped into bits and spread across the Earth, that still wouldn't kill you?"

  "Nope." He shrugged. "Immortal, Sia. I mean, we're unconscious, but still alive. Eventually, the extra pieces degrade and the main one grows until there's an entire body."

  "How do you know what part will be the main one?" I couldn't help it; I was completely fascinated.

  He tapped his chest. "The seal. It lies over our heart, which is the center of our body."

  "Not the mind?"

  "Not the mind," he agreed.

  Cradling my cup in my hands, I leaned back, mulling that over. "And humans have
a seal too?"

  "Yes."

  "How do you know it?"

  He tilted his chair back and kicked his feet up on the desk. "Your seal is your pattern."

  I nodded, accepting that as nothing more than the truth. "So how do you key your wards to me?"

  The smile returned. "Good. You're already thinking the right way." He turned his chair quickly and stood, pulling off his shirt as he walked across the room, tossing it back to his chair. "Every seal is different," Nick said, kneeling before my knees.

  I couldn't take my eyes off him, but he didn't seem to mind. "Ok?"

  "Well, in order for the veils to recognize us, we need them marked on our skin." He traced the outer ring on his broad, flat chest. "It's our resonant structure. Like DNA, but made of aether. It's our personal signature, and the seal makes it into a key."

  "How's it decided? I mean, I've never seen marks like that before."

  He raised an eyebrow. "You've also never seen Daemonic before."

  "True. So how do you know mine?" I set my cup on the small table in the corner and leaned closer, looking at the strange brand on his skin.

  Nick moved my hand to his chest, resting it across his seal. "Close your eyes, little dove."

  I obeyed without thinking, feeling his heart beat against my palm. His skin was so warm and smooth, the raised edges of the seal tantalizing against my fingers. He laid his hand above mine, holding it to him, but said nothing. His thumb gently swept back and forth across my skin, a smooth, comfortable rhythm that my mind embraced.

  "Could you draw it?" he finally asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  I opened my eyes. "Yeah. I could."

  "But you can't see it. You never looked long enough to know every line." His thumb moved again, soft and soothing. "How could you draw it?"

  "Because I know what you feel like." Astonishment tinted my voice, but it was true. I knew Nick. Completely. It was like I could feel him in my bones when I tried to imagine who he was. That's why I wasn't scared of him.

  He nodded, those dark eyes holding more than just the knowledge of aether. Something smoldered deep inside him, contained and harnessed, but begging to break free. "That's how I know your sign, Sia. That's how I keyed this room to you."