Sex and the Single Vampire

Chapter Seventeen

"Oh, sure, the minute Christian needs rescuing, earth-shatteringly important emergencies suddenly pile up on me. First Sebastian, now a demon. What next? The apocalypse?" I grumbled as I stuffed my things into my bag, leaving the holy water on top, where it was handy.

"I'm so very sorry to ruin your evening," Esme apologized.

"So just what does Esme mean when she says the basement is now part of—"

I slapped a hand over Roxy's mouth. "Never, ever say the H-word when there's a demon in the house."

Her eyes were huge as she nodded her understanding. I released her mouth. "I have no idea what's happened down there, but I guess I'll be finding out rather than saving Christian, like I should be doing." I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed out the bedroom door. "Blast that Guardian! Just what the… dickens"—we also don't say the D-word when minions of hell are about—"does she think she's doing?"

"How would I know? I'm just a handy feed bag to hang around the neck of any visiting vampire."

I stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at the man following me. "Look, Raphael, I appreciate your offer of help, but about this you really have to trust me—a situation involving demons is no place for a human."

"You're not human?"

I gave him a wry smile as I limped down the stairs. "According to Roxy, I'm no longer strictly human, no. And even if I were, I'm a Summoner. I practice magic as my business. I won't be likely to fall into any of the demon's traps, as you might."

Raphael looked disbelieving as I approached the door to the basement. Esme was right; the lower half of the house was filled with demon smoke, a sign that the Guardian had either Summoned the demon to banish him forever, or something had gone badly awry. Given my luck, I was pretty sure it was the latter. Perhaps the Turners had already gone to sleep and would remain blissfully ignorant of the evening's events.

I glanced at Raphael. Even as angry as he was with me for allowing Sebastian to feed from him, he was still prepared to stand by my side and fight. He really was a nice guy, and I had made it one of my rules that I never allowed nice guys to become demon fodder. "If you won't listen to me, maybe you'll listen to Joy."

He frowned. I nodded. "Think about her—is she going to want you to risk your life and eternal damnation unnecessarily? Or would she tell you to let the experts handle this?"

"Well…"

I have never been able to do a strong mind push on anyone, but I tried now. I put my hand on his arm and focused on what I wanted him to do, giving him a push into agreeing with it. "I think Joy needs you more, Raphael. She loves you; I'm sure she wants you home. Right now."

He blinked, a faint frown between his brows. "I…"

Well, pooh, in for a penny, in for a pound. I put my other hand on him and mentally shoved. Hard. "She might even need you."

His head snapped up and he turned to bellow up the stairs. "Roxy! We're leaving. Now, woman! I don't have time to wait for you!"

Raphael was dragging a protesting Roxy out the front door as I opened up the door to the basement. Thick white smoke boiled up the stairs, a noxious barrier I had to push my way through to reach the basement.

"Hello?" The demon smoke was thick enough to choke a horse, which meant that us almost-humans were coughing like six-pack-a-day smokers. "Um… Guardian? Are you down here?"

I swam through the offal-scented smoke and peered around the basement.

"I'm sorry, but the wine cellar is off-limits," a voice called out from the heart of the smoke. It was a young-sounding voice for a Guardian. Very young.

"There's a… erm… gas leak. It would probably be best if you were to evacuate the house, Mrs. Turner."

"My name is Allie, and I've heard the one about the gas leak before." I headed for the open door to the wine cellar, out of which the smoke was pouring. I gagged a couple of times before I made it into the room, but what I saw once I got there had me rubbing my eyes.

In the center of the room Sarra the demon hung upside down by one leg, its arms bound behind its back, its suit scuffed-looking. Beneath it, crawling around an intricately scribed circle, a woman with short, curly red hair drew binding symbols with a gold stick.

She looked up as I fanned away the smoke that was billowing up from the crack in the tile. "You're a Summoner. Hullo. I'm Noelle. Did you know that you have mismatched eyes?"

I walked around the demon. It glared at me. "Yes, I know. Why do you have Sarra strung up by one leg?"

She drew another symbol. It flared bright green as soon as the stick lifted from the circle. "It was getting a bit stroppy with me. The Hanged Man always teaches them a few manners. It's retaliating with the smoke. Are those spirits I saw yours, then?"

"Yes, they are. There are four others as well. I hate to be a bother, but I'm in a bit of a hurry, what with Christian being held by this one's master and all, so if you could possibly just give me the abbreviated version of what's going on here, I'll be on my way to rescue him."

She leaned back on her heels and sucked the tip of her gold stick. "Asmodeus, eh?"

The demon snarled. A chunk of ceiling fell behind me. We both ignored it. It just never does to give a demon the satisfaction of knowing it's startled you.

"It's a nasty bag of tricks, but I heard through the demonic grapevine that it was weakened and searching for a suitable sacrifice to regain its power," she added.

"Well, it can't have Christian; he's mine. Back to the demon, if you don't mind…"

She looked up at Sarra, still sucking the stick. "It's a pretty specimen, isn't it? I like the hair gel. Nice touch. The mustache is a bit much, though, don't you think? Makes it look so smarmy."

"Um…"

"I'm destroying it, so I suppose it really doesn't matter."

I blinked and avoided two wine bottles as they flew out of a rack when the demon hissed at the Guardian. "Destroying it? I didn't think you could destroy a demon."

She laughed and stuck her stick behind her ear, brushing off her knees as she stood. "Of course you can destroy them. Don't they teach you Summoners anything? It's fairly easy, just a bit time-consuming, what with drawing all the symbols in proper order, and then, of course, there are the twelve words you have to pry out of them. Duck."

Now I was really confused. "Twelve words? What does a duck—" I jumped aside to avoid the wooden bench that was suddenly hurtled toward us. "Oh. Thanks."

Noelle turned to face the demon, her hands on her hips. "That was not in the least bit nice. Do we need to have another talk about what constitutes acceptable behavior?"

She traced a few symbols in the air and the demon screamed, curling up on itself in agony. I looked at the five-foot-long cracks that appeared in the cement wall. "Impressive. Now, if we could—"

"The twelve words are needed to destroy the demon, don't you see?" Noelle knelt again before her circle, pulling the stick from her red curls. "You have to get them out of the demon before you can destroy it, and naturally they're a bit reticent to give them to you. Makes for an exciting time, though."

"Right," I drawled, more than a bit worried about the Guardian's lighthearted manner. Guardians were highly respected, more than a little feared people in my circle of witches and wizards, and the friendly, freckle-faced woman in front of me just didn't meet my expectations. "Do you mind me asking how long you've been doing this?"

She drew another symbol. "Almost six months now."

"Six months?" I choked so hard tears came to my eyes as I coughed the saliva out of my bronchial tubes. Sarra cackled. The door fell off its hinges.

"My mum is a Guardian, too," Noelle answered quickly. "I have oodles of experience, really I do. And it's not usually too exacting a job, you know? An exorcism here, sealing a portal to hell there, destroying the odd demon or two—doesn't take up much space on the schedule, leaving lots of time for my real work."

I couldn't help but ask. I just couldn't help it. "What would that be?"

"I'm writing the definitive work on werefolk."

"Werefolk?"

"Yes, you know, werewolves, werecats, werebeetles, that sort of thing. They're a fascinating people, really."

I made a mental note to keep Raphael from meeting Noelle anytime in the future. "It sounds fascinating, yes, but I really must be running along. There's only"—I looked at my watch—"two more hours until sunrise, and I have Christian to save. I hate to leave you. Are you sure you'll be all right here by yourself?"

She blinked at me. "Of course. Why shouldn't I?"

I waved at Sarra. "Well… that is a demon after all, and a powerful one at that…"

She wrinkled her nose and waved me off. "Don't worry about it; I have the situation under control."

I heaved a mental sigh of relief that yet another catastrophe had been averted, and gathered up my bag to leave.

"Oh, Allie?" I turned at the door to look back at Noelle. Sarra twisted until it was snarling in my direction. I sidestepped the bucket that was sent flying toward me.

"The sacrifice that Asmodeus is bound to be looking for?"

I nodded.

"It won't be that of a Dark One. It'll be his Beloved."

That was it; I had reached my saturation point. Nothing else could surprise me. I had seen it all and heard it all. I stared at her for a minute, then nodded again and numbly made my way upstairs.

Fine. Asmodeus wanted me to sacrifice myself for Christian. Roxy had told me it would come down to my making a sacrificial gesture; she'd just never told me it was going to be to a friggin' demon lord!

I pushed open the basement door and stepped into the dark hallway, which was now no longer filled with demon smoke.

Instead it was filled with real smoke.

"There you are," Mrs. Turner said, turning to address me. She was standing by the front door, wearing a pair of Wellington boots, a pink velour bathrobe, and an expression that would give the Hound of the Baskervilles pause. A long, thick yellow hose snaked in through the front door, curled around Mrs. Turner, headed down the hall, and disappeared into a door at the far end. "The kitchen is on fire."

"Is it." My left eyelid twitched. She flinched in response and quickly averted her eyes from mine.

"I just thought you would like to know."

"Ah. Is it serious?"

"The firemen are here now. They say not."

"Okay. I'll be back later. With Christian. Or not. It depends on just what the sacrifice consists of. His friend is upstairs in his bedroom. Please don't disturb him." I thought for a moment. "And don't be surprised if you hear the TV turning itself on and off in Christian's study."

Mrs. Turner's lips tightened into a grim line.

"And there might be some screaming and unearthly noises coming from the basement. Just ignore them as well."

She tightened the belt to her bathrobe.

"I'll be off then. If neither Christian or I return by nightfall, would you contact Raphael St. John at St. John Security Services? It'll be in the phone book. I'm sure he and Joy and Roxy will figure out something to do with Sebastian and the others. Well…" I looked out through the open door and noticed it was pouring, absolutely pouring buckets, a veritable deluge of wind and rain and nasty little bits of ice. "What a lovely morning. I believe I'll walk to the taxi stand."

Mrs. Turner turned on her heel and marched off to her room, muttering to herself and slamming the door behind her. I traced the most powerful protection ward I knew into the wetness on the rain-slicked front door, and headed off into the raging monsoon to save the man whose life had become so inexorably bound to mine.

"Hi. I'm Allie. I think you have something of mine," I said to the ARMPIT who opened the door to the Trust's London house. "He's about six foot one, has long black hair, and favors O-negative."

The thin blond woman pursed her lips and moved aside so I could enter. I stopped at the boundaries of the binding ward and gave it a good look. It was different from the ones I'd seen before, much more intricate. I doubted if I would be able to undraw it without time to study it. I pushed through the ward and entered the house, my four accompanying wards immediately burning green.

"Those will not help you," Phillippa said from where she stood at the foot of a long, curved staircase.

"Probably not, but I feel better with them anyway. I don't suppose you'd be at all inclined to take me to wherever you're keeping Christian?"

She strolled past me, throwing open a pair of double doors. "Keeping Christian? We are not holding the Dark One prisoner, if that's what you believe. I will ask him if he wishes to see you."

"You do that little thing," I said, probably a mite more testily than was wise, but I was alternating between terror at being in such close contact with something of terrible power the likes of which I'd never felt before, and anger that Christian was being held by such rotten people. I edged around her until I could peer in through the doorway to the room beyond. She tsked in an annoyed fashion and went off down the dark hallway toward the back of the house.

"Ah, the Beloved has arrived," Eduardo said behind me. He leaned lazily against the newel post at the bottom of the stairs, then strutted toward me, ushering me into what looked like a library. The walls were ceiling-to-floor books, with two large desks set up at either end of the room, the long center wall backing a cluster of wine-colored leather couches and chairs. Above a marble fireplace two huge broadswords were crossed, surrounded by a number of smaller swords and wicked-looking daggers.

Someone clearly had issues, and I was sure I knew who it was.

"Most unusual eyes. I see why you kept them hidden. I should like the opportunity to examine the relationship between their curious colors and the range of your abilities. I must confess, Allegra Telford, I had expected you earlier."

"I was held up. I had to feed the Dark One you've been starving, and then there was a little trouble with a demon that you sent earlier."

He tutted and waved me toward a chair. I rested my bag on my hip and stood where I was, my arms crossed, ready to move quickly if the need should arrive. Eduardo seated himself on one of the couches, crossing his legs so as to display a pair of pale salmon socks. I don't know why I found them so funny, but just the sight of them had me snorting silently to myself.

"Ah, yes, Sebastian. I thought he might enter into our discussion."

"If you think I'm going to give him back in exchange for Christian, you're crazy. I wouldn't leave a goldfish in your care."

Eduardo waved a languid hand. "But my dear, we have no further need for Sebastian. You may do with him as you will. Once it was determined he would not suit, his role simply became that of bait. It brought us exactly what we wanted."

I thought furiously. "Why would you prefer Christian over Sebastian? They're both the same, both Dark Ones, only Christian—" I stopped dead, Noelle's parting words ringing in my ears.

Eduardo nodded. "Christian has a Beloved; Sebastian did not. Hence the need to wait until Christian tracked poor Sebastian to this location."

"Wait a minute," I said, seeing the mistake in his statement. "You couldn't possibly have known that Christian had a Beloved when you nabbed Sebastian, or even when you realized Sebastian didn't have one. I've only known Christian for a few days."

"We were prepared to wait." Eduardo shrugged. It was a poor imitation of Christian's elegant move. "Until such time as a Moravian who had Joined with a human came into our sphere."

"But why you? Why do you want a Beloved? What exactly do you have to do with the demon lord."

"Asmodeus," a familiar, silky smooth voice said from the doorway. I turned with a gasp, my heart beating madly as Christian entered the room, followed by the swarthy man I had seen in my dream.

Christian?

"Ah, there you are. You see, Allegra Telford? We are not holding Christian prisoner. Far from it; he is a cherished guest."

I started toward Christian, but stopped when I saw his eyes. They were black, but not the glistening, shining onyx of Christian in the throes of passion; no, now they were a flat matte black, a black with no depth, a black that held hopelessness and nothing else. He had decided.

There was death in his eyes.

No, don't even think it. We'll find a way out of this.

I wanted to throw myself on him, to kiss his beautiful lips, to hold him in my arms and reassure him that everything would turn out all right, to merge myself with him and give him every ounce of love that filled me, but I knew it would do no good. Not now, anyway. Not yet. Not while he was here.

I turned to the man who stood before the unlit fireplace. "I take it you are Asmodeus?"

He inclined his head, standing patiently while I examined him. He looked like any other man dressed in black, with dark hair and eyes, but there was something surrounding him, an aura of coiled power that alerted me to the glamour. I had no idea what hideous shape he really claimed, but I knew it was not that of the innocuous man before me.

"Christian will not answer you," Asmodeus said. "He has given me his word not to, and if there's one thing of which you can be sure, it's that Moravians are sickeningly true to their word."

"Yes, I imagine honor leaves a nasty taste in your mouth," I said as I set my bag down. It was heavy, and I knew that nothing I had in it would help me against this monster. "I don't understand why you have made a deal with Christian, however. He can't save you. You need a Beloved's sacrifice, not a Dark One's."

I walked over to the nearest desk and started thumbing through the papers, just to annoy Eduardo. Christian's eyes followed me, but he would not answer me, would not touch my mind with his. I ached to merge with him, but knew it would do no good. He was clearly trying to protect me from Asmodeus the only way he knew how—by giving the demon lord himself instead.

Men can be so stubborn.

"It is as you say. However, the sacrifice must be a willing one; it cannot be forced. Thus"—he gestured toward Christian—"you must come to us. And you have, as I knew you would."

I set down the papers and walked over to the demon lord, pulling my arm from my coat and holding it out for him. "What, you want a little blood? Go ahead, dive in. I have plenty to spare."

Asmodeus looked deeply into my eyes, and for a second I saw beyond the glamour and beheld his true self. I staggered backward, feeling as if someone had just kicked me in the chest.

We were in a whole lot of trouble.

"A genuine offer, but alas, as you know well, I cannot partake of the blood of a Beloved who has not yet Joined."

I tipped my head at Christian. "I assume he wants us to take the last step. How do you feel about it?"

He stared at me without speaking, his eyes dead and cold. I smiled at him, then turned back to the demon lord. "Christian doesn't seem to be too keen on the idea, and I'm getting the feeling that saving him isn't going to be worth my life, so you know what? I think I'm just going to be trotting along."

"She lies," Eduardo hissed, leaping to his feet as if he were going to tackle me to stop me from leaving. Which, I had to admit that, given the events of the past few days, he might very well do. "She is his Beloved whether or not they have Joined. She will not leave him here; she cannot."

"Watch me," I said, shoving my arm back in my coat and picking up my bag.

The demon lord moved so fast, I didn't even see a blur. One moment he was standing next to the fireplace; the next he was in front of the door, his fingers on my chin as they tipped my head up so he could peer into my eyes.

"You intend to leave Christian here?"

There was nothing I could do to save him by myself. I knew that after taking a peek at what Asmodeus was made of. There was only one way to escape the demon lord's power, and that was to Join with Christian, and if I did that while the demon lord was around, he'd manipulate me into sacrificing myself to save Christian. Therefore, I couldn't save him now. I needed help. So I could honestly answer Asmodeus's question. "Yes, I will leave him here."

I knew he could see the truth in my eyes, could feel that I was not lying to him. I poured a bit more determination into my intention. His fingers tightened on my chin, his eyes burning into mine as if he were trying to sear his way into my brain.

"You will not offer yourself to save his life?"

Pain slashed through me, making my heart weep tears of blood for the other half of my being. It had to be done. There was no other way.

"No, I will not," I said, my head pounding with each word of betrayal. It would do no good, my inner voice shrieked, trying to stop my soul from rending itself in two at my treacherous words. A sacrifice now would accomplish nothing; it would only end with us both dead and damned to an eternity apart. I couldn't risk that, not when there was the slightest ray of hope that we could pull off a miracle. "I will not offer myself to save his life. I make no sacrifice."

Asmodeus dropped his hand as if his fingers were burned. For a moment his eyes glowed with an ominous black light; then he turned wearily to Christian.

"She has refused you, child of the darkness. She has repudiated you. She will not redeem your soul, will do nothing to save you from the torment that she knows will commence the moment she leaves. What say you to this?"

Christian's eyes never left me. For one second, for a fraction of a second, I thought I saw hurt so deep it almost brought me to my knees, but it was gone instantly, the dull hopelessness all that showed in his eyes. I dared not speak to his mind, not with him under Asmodeus's power.

"It is her choice," Christian said finally, his voice so beautiful that tears pricked in my eyes. I blinked them back. "It has always been her choice."

Love welled up within me, love for a man who had made the ultimate sacrifice in order to give me a chance to escape with my life intact. What a wonderful, loving, stupid man, I thought to myself, and firmly squished down every last bit of love I felt for him lest Asmodeus detect it and know I was bluffing my way out of the house.

"This can't be. She's his Beloved," Eduardo argued to Asmodeus. "She has to sacrifice herself; you said it was impossible for her not to. If she doesn't sacrifice herself, we don't get that." Eduardo pointed rudely at Christian. "We've already lost one vampire; I won't have us cheated out of another one. What good will the attraction be without any ghosts or vampires?"

"Attraction? What attraction?" I asked, edging past Christian toward the door. I sent him only one tiny glance, a little one while Asmodeus's attention was on Eduardo raving before him, but in that look I packed every bit of love I had.

He blinked.

"She is not Joined. She cannot be forced to Join with him, and she refuses to sacrifice herself. Unless she does either, she is useless to us."

"She's lying—"

"Attraction? Like what, a haunted house or something? A spectral Disneyland? That's it, isn't it, you guys are capturing spirits and Dark Ones and who knows what else to turn them into a paranormal zoo?"

"She does not lie," Asmodeus said to Eduardo, then turned in a dismissal as clear as any I've seen.

"But you can't know—"

"I know!"

I stepped back, ostensibly out of fear of Asmodeus, as he turned to address Eduardo, but really just so I could bump into Christian. I touched my fingers to his hand. Instantly Asmodeus's head snapped around to look at us.

I swallowed back a lump of pain as I looked into Christian's eyes. "I'm sorry; it's just not working out like you said it would. You were right when you said I could exist without you. I'll see you around." I tossed a glance toward Asmodeus. "Maybe."

Without waiting to see if he believed me or not, I walked out of the room. Eduardo sputtered a protest, but was quickly silenced. Evidently Asmodeus had a tight grip on him as well as Christian, because the ward made no protest when I pushed my way through it into the gray light of a rainy London morning.

"Right," I said to myself as I waved down a black taxi, refusing to think of what Christian would go through before I could return with help. "First things first…"

The taxi that pulled up maneuvered straight into a puddle next to the road, spraying me from the waist down with icy, muddy water.

"Sorry," the driver said as he reached behind himself and opened the door. I looked from the water running in rivulets down my legs to the gray, sodden sky above.

"It's useless," I told the sun as it tried in vain to pierce the dense cloud cover. "Don't waste your time battling fate. I'm doomed to be wet and miserable until I get Christian back."

"Welcome to England," the cabby said. I sighed and got in the cab, ignoring the pain in my leg and the sense of fatigue that threatened to pound me into a fetal ball of misery.

"Where you off to, then?" the cabby asked conversationally.

I gave him Christian's address, then couldn't help but ask, "I don't suppose you know how to defeat a demon lord?"

He pursed his lips in a soundless whistle as I met his glance in the rearview mirror. "Can't say as I do."

I nodded and squelched my way back in the seat, wondering vaguely how the water had managed to soak the back of me as well as the front. "It's no matter. I think I know someone who does. I just hope she can fit me in between destroying the demon and interviewing werewolves."

The ride to Christian's house was accomplished in record time.