Immortal Rider

Seven

Warmth. Softness. Comfort.

Arik moaned at the luxury. He opened his eyes, expecting to see the black starkness of his cell, but instead, a palm-frond fan spun in lazy circles from a pearly-white ceilin Nng g, and an ocean breeze and warm sunlight streamed through open windows.

Dreaming. He was dreaming again. Man, he loved to dream. For just a little while, he could find peace and a small measure of relief from the constant starvation and pain.

Closing his eyes, he rolled… and bumped into a warm body. A warm female body. He didn’t need to look to know who it was. Her tropical scent, like suntan lotion and rum, filled his nostrils.

He should shove Limos out of the bed and flat on her ass. But this was a dream, she was hot, and this was the best he’d felt since he’d been tossed into the cell.

In a heartbeat, he had her tucked beneath him, his mouth on hers, and his hips cradled between her spread legs. She let out a squeal of surprise and indignation, but he silenced it with his tongue.

Ooh, and handy… he was naked. Usually in these dreams, he had to strip.

Or let Limos do the stripping for him.

Her hands came up to his shoulders, almost tentatively, which struck him as odd, since in all the dreams before this, she’d been aggressive, a demanding tigress who either took what she wanted or made him work for what he wanted.

Now she was all timid kitten, which had to be a game.

Her palms slid lightly down his back, and yeah, game. Limos didn’t do light. She did in-your-face, scratch, bite, and kick, with a side of poison tongue.

Tongue… which was sliding against his, again, timidly, and damn, she was good at this sweet, innocent shit. Strangely, it was a turn-on, and he arched, putting his hard cock firmly against her heat as he smoothed one hand over her waist. His groan mingled with hers, and her touch grew firmer, her tongue action more confident. He played along, letting her learn his mouth at her own pace, even though his body demanded that he take her the way he always did in these dreams.

Limos licked his lips, stroked his teeth with the tip of her tongue as her fingers dug in the muscles at the small of his back. He wanted to tell her to grip him harder, to let her nails score his skin, but this was so different from the other dream sex, so real, and yet so unbelievably tender that he just let it happen.

“Oh, yeah,” he whispered against her lips, his hips rolling despite his desire to take things slow.

He shifted so he could remove her shirt as he peppered her skin with kisses. She tasted like Heaven and hell, light and dark, sweet and spice. He licked and nuzzled her throat as he slid his palm up her flat belly to her chest. Again, this dream was different from the others in that her breasts weren’t as large as before, were instead handfuls of firm flesh that fit his palms as if made for them. He flicked his thumb over a perky nipple and caressed the silky skin beneath it with trembling fingers. He felt like this was his first time with her, which was so fucking weird.

Limos’s legs came up so her knees caught him at his waist, and she tilted her pelvis to meet his rocking motions, the friction between them S be up building quicker than he’d anticipated. His shaft was so stiff it felt brittle, his balls so full of come he could explode, and when Limos’s hands dropped to his ass and pulled him firmly against her, he knew it was only going to take a sensual touch or a naughty word, and it would be over.

A growl ripped from his throat, and Limos responded with a sexy purr of her own, dragging her mouth down his chin, to his neck, and gave him a stinging nip. So good… it was so damned good. For the first time since he’d mounted her, he opened his eyes, wanting to see her gorgeous body. The sight laid him out. Her bronzed skin was flawless over muscles that flexed in her arms and stomach as she writhed. Her breasts were two perfect swells that begged him to taste.

Unable to resist, he closed his lips over one, delighting in her throaty gasp of pleasure. Greedily, he sucked at her, drawing her warm flesh into his mouth and laving it with his tongue. He swore he tasted the sun and wind on her skin, and it was the flavor of freedom, of lazy days and hot summer nights, of sex on the beach.

Sweat broke out over his skin as he tried to hold it together, but the way she was undulating beneath him, so sexy, so perfect, sent him over the edge. In a rough surge, he lunged against her, taking her mouth again as he pumped his hips, drilling into her with an insane need that was as foreign to him as it was critical.

“Arik,” she whispered. “We shouldn’t… can’t… oh, yes… right… there.”

He didn’t need her to tell him he had it right. Her reaction, the way she threw her head back, her mouth open, the soft, breathy sounds that escaped… yeah, he knew he was driving her crazy.

The orgasm boiled in his balls, ready to blow through his shaft. It hit him like a locomotive, slamming into him as she cried out in her own release. She was so hot, so wet around him…

Wait… he wasn’t inside her. The thought punched through the haze as he shuddered through the last of his climax, as he felt the hot jets splash onto her belly and chest.

Arms quivering, he lifted his head and frowned down at her. Her violet eyes were sex-glazed, her cheeks flushed, lips swollen. She was everything every man dreamed of. Except, with horrifying clarity, he realized that this wasn’t a dream.

Holy shit, this was a nightmare.

Limos’s heart was still pounding, her body tingling from the first climax she’d ever had with a male. Damn, what she’d been missing. She could only imagine how it would be with the male actually inside her. Especially if that male was one delectable human with a body made to pleasure a woman.

God, how beautiful Arik had been when he came, his rugged features softened by both the late morning sun streaming through the windows and by ecstasy, his muscles locked up and defined with pulsing, bulging veins beneath glistening skin. Hot spurts of his semen had splashed on her belly, and though she would love to know what that felt like in her core, this truly was amazing. She’d made a man orgasm, and although she was one of the most powerful beings on th S bein e planet, what she’d done for Arik had given her more satisfaction than anything in her life.

She was intoxicated by what they’d done, her lips still tingling from his kisses, and she thought that had been the best part of the lovemaking. The affection she’d craved, that he’d shown her earlier when he’d kissed her palm, had flowed from the kiss like an electric current, energizing her and filling her belly with flutters.

Tentatively, she smoothed her fingers over his jaw. She wanted to express her regrets for what had happened to him. Wanted to tell him how amazing he was for surviving it.

All that came out was a croaked, “Arik.”

As if his name was a trigger, Arik exploded into action, scrambling off her and off the bed. “Shut up.” He stumbled backward, crashed into a dresser.

“It’s okay, Arik.” Limos sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the mattress. “You’re safe.”

“Safe?” he asked, incredulous. “Safe? I’m in hell, you stupid demon.”

Okay, so she’d expected him to be angry about what happened to him, but stupid demon? Awkwardly, she grabbed for her shirt. “Listen to me—”

“Who are you?”

She blinked. He didn’t recognize her? He’d just done the humpty all over her, and he hadn’t even known who was beneath him?

Humiliation seared her cheeks as she wiped his now-cold semen off her belly with a bed sheet and then jerked the shirt over her head. “It’s me, Limos.”

“Bullshit. Get out of my head.” His eyes were wild, he was panting, and through the heady fragrance of sex, she could smell his anger and confusion. “Get out now.”

She modulated her voice, trying to calm him. “Hey, what’s going on?”

He looked at her like she was the crazy one here. “You can’t trick me.” With a swipe of his arm, he knocked the vase of fresh flowers off her night stand. The glass shattered against the wall, and water and broken flowers spilled across the hardwood floor. “This shit isn’t real. I know I’m in my cell, and you’re really some hideous demon pretending to be… her.”

“Pretending to be me? Limos?”

“You can’t get me to say her name, so put a lid on this damned charade now.” He looked down at himself. “Jesus, I don’t even get clothes in this acid trip?”

Shit. He really did think demons had gotten in his head and were making him see things that weren’t real.

“Arik, try to remember.” She eased to her feet, doing her best not to startle him. He was like a wild animal, cornered and injured, dangerously unpredictable. “You were imprisoned for a month. I don’t know how you got out of your cell, but I found you at the Erta Ale hellmouth. You were unconscious. I brought you here, to Hawaii, and Eidolon and Shade h Sn a foealed you.”

“Shut up.” He grabbed his head with both hands, as though trying to keep it from rolling off his shoulders. “For God’s sake, shut up.”

Limos exhaled slowly, unsure how to handle this. Clearly, her presence was agitating him.

“I’m going to get you something to wear and eat, okay? Why don’t you clean up. Get comfortable. There are new toothbrushes and toothpastes and soaps in the bathroom.” She gestured to the patio door. “You can go out on the patio, but there will be guards below. You’re not a prisoner, but until you’re better, I can’t allow you to leave.”

He glared. “How does not being allowed to leave not make me a prisoner?”

“Because I said so.”

Oh, that was mature. Dammit, Arik had a way of calling her out and throwing her off balance. She needed to regroup. Fast.

Heart racing like she’d run a marathon, she practically hurled herself out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen, where she sent a quick text to Thanatos to bring some clothes. Then she settled in to doing the only thing she could think of to help Arik; feed him. She slapped together a sandwich piled high with sliced turkey, cut a wedge of banana cream pie, and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

The sound of footsteps froze her to the floor before she’d taken three steps back to the counter.

Reseph.

She’d know the cadence of his saunter anywhere. Except he wasn’t Reseph anymore, and though ninety-nine percent of the time she was well aware of that fact, sometimes she slipped, her mind taking her back to memories of him doing something familiar, like bopping through her house looking to party, or pestering her into going to a movie with him.

“Hey, sis,” he drawled, as he set up shop in the doorway, his big, armored body blocking the way to Arik’s room. “Aren’t you going to thank me for saving your pathetic human pet?”

“He escaped, you liar.”

“He got out of his cell,” Pestilence countered, “but I got him to the hellmouth entrance before demons got him. Granted, I left him in worse condition than I found him, but there’s always a trade-off, isn’t there?”

“You,” she snarled. “You’re the reason he was so battered.”

He shrugged, one of the spiked metal shoulder plates carving a deep groove into the white paint on the doorjamb. “I didn’t do anything his captors hadn’t done to him. Or would have done to him if you hadn’t gotten to him before Sartael’s team did.”

“You’re despicable.”

Pestilence clutched his chest dramatically. “You wound me.”

Oh, she’d like to wound him, all right. “What do you want? I did what you as Sd wence clutcked, so get the hell out of my house.”

Her brother fingered the engraved bow-and-arrow symbol on the back of his gauntlet. The right touch would pop a real weapon into his hand, and Limos hoped he didn’t suddenly decide to put an arrow between her eyes.

“I came to give you a heads-up,” he said, halting the finger play.

She stared. “Really.”

“Yup.” The amused glint in his eyes grew sinister, and his lips peeled back from fangs as long as her pinky. “I fed from your boy. He’s smooth going down. When your Seal breaks, you can see for yourself.”

Fury that he’d stuck those fangs into Arik was a gasoline fire in her veins. Her brother had committed violence against Arik, had hurt and used him, but there was an envious element to her anger, as well. Pestilence had been intimate with Arik… granted, the intimacy was sick and twisted, but there was definitely a forced closeness to feeding, to the penetration, and she had no doubt her brother had gotten off on what he’d done.

Even though she wanted to hurl one of the knives from the butcher block at Pestilence’s head, she didn’t give her brother the satisfaction.

“My Seal isn’t going to break,” she said calmly.

“It will.” Pestilence pushed off the doorframe. “That’s the only reason I haven’t killed the human yet. I want you to be the one who does it. I want to watch when you drink him to death.”

“Why would it matter to you if he’s dead?”

“Because,” he said, his voice as dark as the black stuff leaking from the joints of his armor, “he fed from me too. Which means that when he dies, his soul is mine. And I have plans for it.”

Horror clamped down hard on Limos’s throat, squeezing so viciously she couldn’t breathe, and she fought the urge to launch herself at him.

When she could speak again, her voice was a raw rasp. “Why? Why would you do that?”

But before the question was even fully out of her mouth, she knew. Every soul Pestilence took made him stronger, but this went far beyond that.

“Yeah,” Pestilence drawled. “You know why. You always had more brains than boobs.” He flashed his fangs. “Your husband will give me anything I want in trade for Arik’s soul.”

Her calm evaporated. She snatched up a butcher knife and hurled it with all her strength.

Pestilence took a graceful sidestep, and the blade punched into the wall, the handle vibrating harmlessly. Casting a smile over his shoulder, he took the corner, disappearing from her sight.

That asshole. That goddamned son of a bitch!

Closing her eyes, she planted her fists on the counter and stood there until her blood pressure wasn’t in danger of blowing out her eardrums. But e Srdred ven as the thud faded away, she once again heard the sound of footsteps. At least this time, it was Thanatos who stepped into the kitchen, wearing his usual black pants and a long black coat that buckled from the high collar to the waist. She’d bet he had on a black turtleneck under it. Instead of his favorite thick-soled Goth boots, he wore combat boots.

“You look like hell.” He tossed a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt onto the table. “And why is there a knife in the wall?”

“Pestilence was just here, and that knife was meant for the back of his skull.”

Thanatos tensed, his yellow eyes darkening to a golden amber. All around him, shadows gathered. “What did he want?”

“Mostly to taunt me.”

God, she hated this. Hated that her brother had gone evil. Hated that he had so much power over her. Hated that he now owned Arik in a way she never would. Not that she wanted to own his soul, but she definitely didn’t want Pestilence having it. Arik was… what? Hers? Impossible, even if he didn’t hate her.

Thanatos had gone still, as if considering what their brother might have done to taunt her. She expected him to ask, so she was surprised when he said, “How’s the human doing?”

“I’m not sure. He doesn’t remember escaping.”

“Did you mess with his memories?”

She and her brothers could erase memories—depending on the situation and individual, they usually couldn’t go back more than a couple of hours or so, but often, that was all that was needed.

“I haven’t done anything to his mind. He thinks he’s still in Sheoul.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m a little worried.” A little? She was freaked.

“Yeah, well, remember how screwed up you were after you got away from The Aegis?”

How could she forget? Those bastards had paralyzed her with hellhound spit and kept her in a dungeon while they poked and prodded, and threw in a little torture for fun. Reseph had rescued her, and she’d spent two full days trying to get her bearings.

“He just needs some time.”

Thanatos shifted his weight. “Speaking of that…”

“Don’t say it,” she growled. “Killing him so he won’t get grabbed by demons isn’t an option. Our asshole brother did some sort of blood exchange with him, and now if he dies, his soul belongs to Pestilence.”

“Fuck,” Than breathed. “That’s not cool.”

“You think?” She loaded the food and water on a tray. “What I don’t get is why he’s waiting. Why not kill Arik now?”

“No idea. Maybe tethering a soul is like turning a vampire? It has to ‘take’?”

“I don’t know about t S knwidth="27"hat, but I do have some good news.” She dug Sartael’s coin out of her shorts pocket. “Look who’s surfaced.” She flipped the coin at Than, who snatched it easily out of the air.

“Well, well,” he murmured as he studied the coin. “The angel of hidden things came out to play for the Apocalypse.” He looked up. “How did you get this?”

“I killed a demon who was using it to track Arik,” she said, enjoying the flush of heat that tingled over her skin. She could have told Than the truth, that Kynan had killed the demon, but her brother would have wondered why she’d been with Ky in the first place. “I thought Sartael was dead.”

“There have always been rumors that instead of death, he was imprisoned by Satan. Some say he was turned into a hellrat and kept as a pet.”

“So why let him out now?”

“Maybe your fiancé was desperate to find Arik after he escaped?”

“It’s possible, but it seems pretty extreme to bring Sartael back after so long just to find one human.” She eyed the knife in the wall. “Pestilence,” she spat. “He mentioned Sartael when he was here. I’d bet your left nut that Pestilence arranged for Sartael’s release so he could help him find my agimortus.”

Thanatos bounced the coin in his palm. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use my balls as wagers, but yeah, that makes sense.”

“Can we use that coin to find Sartael?”

“I might have something in my library about it. Reaver might know something as well. I’ll summon him.”

Awesome. It was about time they had a concrete plan. She grabbed the tray and clothes, and allowed Than to walk her to the bedroom. Ever protective, he stepped in front of her to open the door and scan the room before he let her enter. Arik was sitting in a corner, still naked, his forehead propped on his knees.

He looked up as they entered, his gorgeous hazels seething.

“Hey,” she said softly. “I brought some clothes.” She tossed them on the bed. “And food.”

She eased forward, stopping when his lips peeled back in a silent snarl. Behind her, Than was a black menace, which wasn’t going to make things with Arik go any easier.

Go, she mouthed, and when her brother didn’t budge, she nudged him with her elbow. After shooting her a look that conveyed his displeasure, Than stalked outside and slammed the door closed.

Very slowly, she set the tray on the floor and backed away from Arik. Going by the stark hunger in his expression, she expected him to leap on the food. Instead, he shrank back even more.

“You think I’m stupid?” His voice was an angry rumble. “You think I’ll try to eat that? Where is my bucket of eyes and guts?”

Eyes and guts? The realization made bile bubble up in her throat. They’d fed h Shey try to eaim nasty shit, and probably taunted him with real food, punishing him when he tried to eat it. She’d never wanted to commit mass murder more than she did right now.

“No eyes and guts today. Special treat.”

“Fuck off. I want my usual. And don’t tell me you’re out of maggot-ridden rotting meat, because you seem to have an abundance of that.”

“Tell you what,” she said lightly. “You can have the nasty stuff after you eat this.” She backed toward the door, hoping he’d eat after she was gone, but suspecting he wouldn’t.

Turned out, she was right.

She covertly watched through the sliding glass door that led from the back deck to the bedroom, as he stared at the food with a desperate longing in his eyes. Finally, when it was clear that Arik wouldn’t touch the food, she found Hekili taking inventory in the pantry.

“I need something… disgusting-looking,” she said. “Something that’s edible, healthy, but won’t look like it’s real food.” She paused, considering the whole torture chamber scenario. “And put it on a paper plate or a cheap pie tin.”

“I can get just the thing.” Smiling, Hekili wiped his hands on the towel draped over the shoulder of his chef jacket. “Haggis.”

Yeah, that would do it. “Perfect.”