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The Kiss of Death (Demons' Muse Book 1) by Auryn Hadley (30)

Chapter 30

Luke closed his eyes and began to speak.  The words were soft, silky, and unnatural, like no language I'd heard before.  When he took a breath, Nick joined in, forming a countermelody.  Unlike Luke's, his words were harsh, filled with consonants and primitive syllables that my ears did not want to acknowledge.  The sounds blended, forming a dissonance that was somehow soothing, calling to something deep inside me.

I could hear the chant.  It reminded me of ancient monks.  Their words wove around each other, building on the meaning, but the only comprehension was the tone, the melody, and the rhythm of it all.  Like a dance, it urged my body to sway and drift and writhe.  I gave into it, knowing this was magic.  Not superstition or illusion, but a type of science so advanced that humans couldn't hope to understand.  To me, that made it magic.  Pure, lyrical, soothing magic.

I found myself humming softly to the melody and let my eyes slip closed, relaxing into it.  Nick said this would take a while, like ten minutes or something, so I might as well enjoy the sound of their native languages.  On and on it went, playing with my mind like some narcotic, leaving me feeling satiated but dizzy, pleased but anxious, and then I began to feel warm.

At first, it was like someone turned up the heater.  It wasn't much, just a flush to my skin, a little less chill on my bare toes, but it grew.  Soon, it felt like the Oklahoma summers from my youth, hot and dry.  My skin started to sweat.  The thick wool blanket clung in all the wrong places.  I opened my eyes, hoping they'd finish soon so I could get rid of the thick fabric, and saw aether.  Swirls of pale blue and gold with vermillion streaks burning in contrast, the colors danced to their voices, twining around each other like lovers.  All three shades intertwined perfectly in some beautiful representation of harmony.  I felt Nick squeeze my fingers, then Luke, as more began to appear.  Yellows, greens, purples, pinks, and shades I couldn't even describe.  Some were translucent, others metallic, but they all swirled like fog in a breeze, centered around me.

Then the burning started.  It felt like I'd leaned too close to the stove – and it would not subside.  When I glanced down, the flesh over my left breast had turned angry and red, growing steadily redder.  Before my eyes, the skin blistered and peeled, popped and bubbled, the cracked edges searing to charred black crisps.

I screamed.

I screamed so hard I thought my lungs would pour through my throat, so hard my tongue felt swollen in my mouth.  My back arched from the hot, damp stone, seeking a breath of air, some breeze that would stop the pain.  My tears leaked out, streaming down my face as the wound grew steadily over my heart.  No matter what I did, it burned, from the center of my soul right through my skin, marking me for who I was, clear for all the world to see.  It hurt in ways that words just couldn't describe.

And Nick held my hand.

So beautiful and perfect, his voice sounded like peace.  The words were harsh enough to cut through the pain.  The rhythm stayed steady, rocking me slowly to ease the torture.  His eyes were closed, his body as strong as a mountain, completely unmoving, except for his fingers in mine reminding me I was not alone.  It hurt.  Like those words from my youth, convincing me I didn't matter, the aether hammered at something so deep inside that no one else could see, pulling it to the surface, revealing it to any eye that turned in my direction. 

And Luke squeezed my fingers. 

The silky words that came from his mouth were spoken with a velvet voice.  Every syllable worked to ease my suffering while forging me into something so much better.  Deep in my bones, I could feel the changes claiming me, but Luke was there to keep me stable.  The eerie green of his eyes was no longer cold.  It was burning with power, shifting to the same gold as his aether, and begging me to look a little deeper.  I couldn't.  My mind couldn't settle on anything except the searing hot pain racing in tiny swirls across my chest.  It hurt.  It hurt so badly, I felt blackness clawing at me.

It hurt more than anything else in my life.

The hot edges seared a line from my spine to my chest, like burning metal cutting through everything inside me, and no matter how hard I tried to close my mouth, bite my tongue, or clench my jaw, I screamed.  I don't remember breathing, or begging, or trying to pull away, but the force of that scream tore at my vocal chords like a feeling that would stay with me forever.  I knew it as it happened.  A part of my mind, locked away from the ritual, observed, ashamed of my weakness but knowing there was nothing I could do to change it.

Then it just stopped.

Nick's hand pressed the mark on my chest as he pulled the other free from Luke's.  Exhausted, he leaned over my waist, resting his head on my stomach.  Luke took great gulps of air as he gently caressed my sweat soaked hair.  I cried, soundlessly, but I couldn't stop the tears as I tried to breathe slowly, begging my body to relax, promising that it was over.

"You ok, Sia?" Luke asked.

"Let's not do that again?" I croaked.

He chuckled softly and pressed his palm against my scalding scalp.  "I can agree to that.  At least you only have to do it once."

"Nick?"

Luke petted my hair again.  "Give him a second.  He's healing the burns."

"Thank you, Nick," I whispered, looking down my body for his face.

The corner of his lip curled, but he didn't look up.  Luke squatted beside me, resting one hand on my head, the other on my shoulder.  While Nick worked, Luke's touch convinced me to just relax until, finally, Nick was done.  The sigh could mean nothing else.  With a gentle pat on my arm, Luke pushed to his feet, grabbed his shirt, and left without a word.  The door closed softly behind him.

"Hey?" I asked Nick, his head still pressed against my stomach.  "You alive down there?"  My throat was raw and hoarse. 

"Yeah, a little tired, but we nailed it."  He smiled and slowly lifted his hand.  "Your seal is perfect, and Luke locked in the wards to protect you from just about everything."

"Except you?"  I didn't know how to key my seal to him and I wasn't ready to try.

"Except us," Nick corrected.  "Luke and I sealed you.  If you want to lock us out, you'll have to do it later."

I nodded, accepting that.  "Is there any reason I'd want to lock Luke out?"

He shook his head.  "No.  Not after the deal he made you.  I mean, he's not perfect, dove, but he's all heart."

"Why didn't you ever unlock to him, then?"  I licked at my lips, wishing I had a drink.

Nick saw, pulled himself back to his feet and headed to the bathroom, talking while he went.  "Never had a reason to.  Our abilities tend to be in opposition in a lot of ways.  Think of it like earth, fire, and water.  Luke and I are fire and water."

"So you two cancel each other out?"

"Yeah, and both work well with you."  He walked back into the room carrying a tall, clear glass, filled full.  "Can you sit up, or do you need help?"

I tried to do it on my own but Nick hurried over to wrap his arm around my shoulders.  His other hand held out the glass like an offering.  I took it gratefully, sucking back gulp after gulp of cool relief.  For a second, I paused to breathe, then drank again until the glass was empty.  Only then did Nick take it from my hands and place it out of sight behind him.

"Shower?" he asked.

"A cool one," I agreed.

He nodded and swept me into his arms, pressing my chest tight against his.  The blanket tangled between us.  I could have walked, but he never gave me the chance.  Instead, he carried me into the bathroom before gently easing my feet to the floor.

"See if you like that."  He gestured to the mirror as he turned to adjust the shower temperature to be soothing.

My reflection looked like a wreck, so it was no wonder he was worried.  My hair hung damp and limp against my shoulders.  My skin was pallid and pasty, except across my chest.  There, a large gilded circle had been branded into my skin.  The molten gold looked like it was meant to be there, but surreal.  The seal was made of two rings, words in a language I'd never seen written between them in copper on an icy blue background.  Inside it all was a pattern of iridescent rainbow spirals that twined around each other.  It was elegant, dainty, feminine, and oddly beautiful.

"What if I hate it?"  I looked up to see Nick watching my reflection.

His eyes met mine in the glass, aware of the smile on my lips.  "Then you'd be shit out of luck, wouldn't ya?"

I laughed, turning gently to see him pulling off his own clothes.  "I guess so.  It's lovely, but why is mine gold and yours is just a brand?"

He shoved his pants down his hips, obviously planning to share the shower with me.  "Luke's aether is gold.  Mine is a very pale blue.  If you look at his seal, you'll see it's tinted, just like Sam's is pinkish.  Because we all worked together on yours, and because you're a damned Muse, well, you get the pretty one."  He gestured to the space between the circles.  "See how that's pale?  That's my aether.  Luke locked the edges, so he got that."

"And mine is in the writing?" 

Nick smiled.  "You organized all the colors, little dove.  Your aether is that color because you want it to be, not because you don't have a choice."

"Oh."

He pulled open the door to the shower and guided me in.  The cool water felt amazing on my parched skin.  I rinsed the sweat and salt away, worried for only a moment that the raw flesh would sting with water, but it was healed.  Nick had seen to that as soon as the sealing was done.

"So, when will we get the stones you talked about?"  I moved out from under the water, looking for shampoo.

He passed me the bottle, then lifted his hair to rinse his own body.  "Next week.  Right now, you need food and sleep."

"You cooking?"  I looked up at him with the best pouty face I could manage.

Nick laughed.  "No, Sam is."  He took a step closer and wrapped his arms around me, guiding me back under the water.

I grabbed conditioner.  "Well at least I won't starve, since I can't cook to save my own life.  It's not something I've ever had the chance to learn."

He growled playfully and spun me around, reaching for my hair to work the cream through my locks.  "Maybe I need to keep you in the kitchen then?"

"Next you'll start adding pregnant to that list."

"Nope."  Nick kissed my shoulder and eased me back under the water.  "What would you do with little winged children?"

"Make their daddy deal with it."  I knew full well he wasn't serious.

"I have no interest in seeing my children die, Sia."

"Me either," I assured him.  "And since you said I can manipulate my aging, well, I think we'll just let someone else do the breeding.  Deal?"

"Deal."  He pressed against me, kissing my face as the water ran over us both, soaking the hair he'd been trying to keep dry.  "But you need to eat.  You shouldn't be up and about."

I wiped the water from my eyes.  "Why not?"

"Because that's about as serious of a working as you've ever done.  Well, in theory.  At some point, you're going to feel exhausted."

"I do feel a bit tired, but not exhausted."

He chuckled once.  "At least we know you're not unstoppable."

Clean, and feeling a lot less sticky, I turned off the shower and found one of those super soft towels, gold this time, to wrap myself in.  Nick followed, always staying within reach like he expected me to collapse any moment or something.  My clothes were still in the other room, but Nick had left most of his on the floor.  I watched, enjoying the view while he pulled his pants on, damp hair clinging to his broad chest.

"So, what's that bit about ancient demon history and masturbation?" I asked as I made my way back into the gold room.

Nick groaned.  "You were supposed to forget about that."

"I didn't.  Now, you can tell me or you can say you don't want to talk about it."  I shrugged.  "Either is an acceptable option, Mr. I-Walked-With-Dinosaurs."

With a deep sigh, he leaned against the table, waiting while I pulled on my clothes.  "So," he said slowly, dragging the word out.  "When we began – because we weren't born, we simply were.  One day nothing, the next day completely grown and formed.  Well, we didn't know anything."

"That's a little freakish."

He shrugged.  "It's what happened.  The first few weeks of life were the same for most demons.  We managed to injure ourselves a lot, we tried to figure out how to fly, usually catastrophically, and, um, we were amazed at our own bodies."

"They are pretty magnificent bodies."

He laughed.  "Well, we agreed, and like most young boys, we experimented.  Since we had no women, a pair of demons meeting up usually went one of two ways, either we fought, or we showed off."

I nodded, seeing where he was going.  "And sex happened."

His eyes flicked to the far wall.  "We didn't even know women were an option."

I got the impression that bothered him, so I decided to change the subject.  "So, how long before demons started forming societies?"

His shoulders relaxed as I took the conversation in a less awkward direction.  "About two hundred years.  There aren't many of us, so we first gathered in groups of two to ten, which we called legions.  Then we staked out claims, and eventually ran into others, and, well, one day we started making homes.  From there, we just kept going."

"What's it like, now?"

Nick smiled, letting his eyes close.  "Organized.  There's a few on the other side of the world that do their own thing, but most of the unconscious demons are brought to us, cared for, and when we can, revived."  He smiled.  "In some ways, it's more primitive, but in others more advanced."

"Ok?"

"Well, like our technology.  We're far ahead of you on that, but limited by fuel – aether.  The place is amazing, though.  The entrance is marked with a massive statue, probably thirty stories tall.  Inside that, we live in a commune-like society.  It keeps the guys social, forming friendships, and gives us the closest thing to a family that demons can know."

His pride hinted at something, and I could tell he was choosing his words carefully.

"So what aren't you saying?"

"Our city is run by a council."

"And?"

"Leader of the aethersmiths, leader of the warriors, and leader of the people.  We have a word for that.  It means something like citizens but with responsibilities.  Anyway, um, Samyaza and I are two of the leaders."

"And the third?"

"Azrael.  He doesn't leave Daemin much."

"So, is he like a king or something?"

Nick shook his head.  "Think of us more like elected officials.  One is not higher than the other, even if he does speak for more people."

"So I'm fucking a demon prince?"

Nick laughed.  "No, you're fucking the Master of Hell, or something – get it right.  C'mon, let's feed you."

I turned to the door and paused.  "Thanks for the seal, Nick.  Thanks for doing it yourself, for healing me, for taking care of me, and for answering all of my annoying questions."

"You're welcome."  He pulled the door open and pressed his hand gently against my back, but his smile was proud, as if I'd just told him he'd saved the world.

Walking down the stairs, I felt weary but not any worse than after a long shift at Mac's.  Every muscle in my body hurt – but that wasn't surprising considering the writhing I'd just done.  My chest felt fine, the mark of the seal barely noticeable unless I thought about it.  The skin seemed a bit heavier, like I'd painted on it, but it wasn't uncomfortable.  Nick led me to the small table in the kitchen and motioned for me to sit. 

As soon as the chair screeched against the tile floor, Sam appeared, looking worried.  "You ok, Sia?" he asked.

"Yeah.  A little tired, but that's it.  Starving."

He nodded.  "So, do I get to see it?"

I yanked at the neck of my t-shirt, pulling it over to reveal the side of my new seal.  Sam leaned closer, hooking his finger under the cloth to pull a bit more.  "Elegant.  Very nice.  Damn, looks good when you combine angelic and demonic weavings."

"They did good," I agreed.

"Holy shit," Beelzebub said, walking in.

"What?" I asked, shocked.

He chuckled.  "Such a strange phrase, you know?  Holy and shit, back to back?  Doesn't really make sense."

"Also means something's a big deal," Sam told him.

"Oh."  Beelzebub shrugged.  "Well, she's standing, Satan isn't suffering, and Lucifer's ok.  That's a big deal, right?"

"It is?"  I looked from Sam to Nick, wanting verification.

"It was like sealing pure aether," Nick told the big guy.  "She's oozing with it, and didn't fight us, not even when the burning started."  He smiled at me.  "She helped."

"Sure."  I chuckled.  "If you say so."

"The humming – before you started screaming," Luke explained, standing by the door.  "Kitchen's a little crowded, guys.  Nick, make her a coffee.  Sam, get dinner going before she uses the last of what she has left."  He pushed further into the room, his leaner body weaving between the other guys.  "And I get to steal the Muse long enough to get her comfy."

"When did you become the savior?" I asked, my eyes widening over his offered hand.

Luke winked.  "The day an angel grabbed you, and you reached for my help without thinking."

Nick tapped his chest.  "Aether transfer.  The gold is from Luke.  It's a little different for angels than it is for demons."

"You in love with me now or something?" I teased Luke.

"You wish," he shot back.  "Nah.  Just weird to have someone walking around with a stabilized bit of my life in them.  It fades eventually, but, I dunno."

I understood.  "Feels all warm and fuzzy, huh?"

"Something like that," he agreed, pulling me to my feet.  "Pillows are on the sofa.  I have a real soft blanket in there too, since I know how much you like those.  You're staying off your feet until you eat.  If you aren't out by then, you can..."  He paused.  "…finish your lessons."

"I almost feel like the outsider," Beelzebub said, nudging Sam's arm.  "Damn smiths, always acting like their shit is such a big deal."

"Kinda is," Sam said.  "Bel, they just sealed the most powerful Muse in history with angelic, demonic, and human aether."

Beelzebub chuckled, following Luke and I into the sitting room.  The sound of Sam digging for pans clanked behind us.  I assumed Nick was helping because he didn't come with us. 

"You gonna learn to fight too?" Beelzebub asked when we reached the living room.

Luke was pointing to the couch facing the door, pillows and a blanket laid out, just like he'd promised, and I cuddled into them without shame.  "Do I need to?" 

Beelzebub huffed as he dropped onto the opposite couch.  "You going to fight angels?"

"She's got weapons," Luke said.  "She's a Muse."

"Yeah?  And what happens when she's like this?  You guys going to hover around her constantly?  What do you think will happen to her if Michael catches her alone?"

"She'll drain him," Luke almost growled.

Beelzebub laughed.  "He's too smart for that.  Isn't a thing she can try that he hasn't already seen at least once."

"So, y'all have aether guns or something?" I asked, turning over so I could see Bel.

"No, we call those smiths.  Gunpowder doesn't really do much to us.  It's all about the level of aether.  The point is to drain or be drained."

I dropped my head onto the pillow, thinking about that.  "But unlike y'all, I can die."

He shrugged.  "We tend not to think about that in the rush of the moment.  I mean, sure, ripping you apart will kill you, and it might happen if someone gets excited and all, but mostly, they'll want your aether.  It's too tempting to risk releasing.  They'll drain you dry if they can.  That means I'll have to teach you how to keep their hands off you."

"Like self-defense courses?"

He shrugged.  "Don't know that one."

"Yes," Luke told me.  "Hand-to-hand combat.  Most of us learn it while flying as well."

"Well, flying is going to take me a bit.  Nick said it's like ten years to make a skin."

Luke leaned back and tossed his legs over the arm of the chair.  "For a demon, Sia.  Things are a little different for a Muse.  Just paint it."

"Seriously?"

He nodded, green eyes gleaming.  "Very.  You'll have to be on the world you want to use it, but yes.  Just like that pencil.  Make art, then make it live.  I weave, Nick smiths, you create.  Don't try to follow our rules, because they don't apply to you."

I groaned and rolled onto my back.  "Do all of y'all know about the pencil?"

"Yep," Luke said.

"No," Beelzebub admitted.  "Sleeping for a while.  Missed that."

Luke explained easily.  "Her art falls off the page, real." 

"Oh, damn.  Holy shit.  Fuck yeah."  He chuckled.  "I'm sure there's more I haven't learned yet, but that's nice.  Little Muse, I am so glad you're on our side."

I smiled, snuggling into the blankets.  "Me too.  Y'all are a lot more fun than the angels.  And nice."  I yawned.  "I like having real friends, even if y'all do want me for my supernatural talents."  I blinked, and my eyes didn't want to open again.

"She's out," I heard Luke say softly.

Nick's voice trickled into my mind before sleep took control.  "It's about time.  Never seen anyone that resilient.  Kept waiting for her to pass out on her feet."

"Not her," Beelzebub assured him.  "No, that one's tough.  She's not the kind that's going to let anything stop her once she sets her mind to it."

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