SEVENTEEN
A clock on the mantle ticked ominously and Hutton’s eyes remained riveted to the second hand as it moved in little spurts around the clock’s face. You’d think Phoenyx would have had a digital clock of some kind in the damn apartment instead, but she said the ticking sound kept her grounded on the days she slept. To him, the sound was deafening in the quiet apartment, as he waited impatiently for her to return home. She promised she would return home.
He rubbed his face roughly with the palms of his hands and sat back loosely against the sofa pillows. Leaning his head back on the edge of the couch, he stared up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of his breathing and the ticking of that bloody clock as they competed with one another.
In the kitchen, Cortez shuffled around, tidying up the mess he’d made while cooking. “She’s coming back,” he said softly, the sound of his voice cutting the silence like a gunshot, making Hutton jump.
“Pardon me?”
Cortez half smiled as he wiped down the counter with a rag. “She’s coming back. That woman is one bad bitch. There ain’t no way some cracker, named Lazarus, is going to take her out.”
He watched the Sand Demon as he tidied the kitchen in a last-ditch effort to take his mind off Phoenyx’s absence. He was worried too, Hutton could tell, he just wasn’t letting on.
Clearing his throat, Hutton stood carefully, and walked over to the small island in the middle of the kitchen, hands stuffed deeply into the pockets of his slacks. “I’m not worried he’s going to kill her, Cortez,” Hutton murmured, his eyes never leaving the rag as it swiped back and forth. “I’m worried she’s going to want to stay with him.”
Laughter exploded from Cortez’s lips as he held himself up with his hands, his body buckling under the weight of his reaction. “Yo, there ain’t no way she’s going to stay with him. So––he’s her father, big fucking deal. That don’t mean shit, H. She’s coming home.”
There was nothing more in the world that he wanted to believe than that. Glancing over at the Vampire finally laying still in her bed, he frowned. Was he the one?
Without looking back at Cortez, he spoke. “I haven’t been entirely honest.”
The rag stopped moving. Cortez looked up and frowned. “You seem to do that a lot. What do you mean?”
“What if I told you,” Hutton continued, his eyes still far away, riveted to Judas as he slept. “That there was more to Lazarus Morelock than I’ve been able to share?”
He could feel Cortez’s eyes burning a hole into the side of his head like lasers. A string of silent Spanish curses floated from his lips. “What are you trying to say, H? Does she know?”
“I’ve told so many lies,” Hutton whispered, completely disregarding Cortez’s questions. “So many secrets kept, that I’m not sure she will ever forgive me. There was just too much at stake. I couldn’t have told her. She wouldn’t be the woman she is today if I had, but maybe she wouldn’t be the woman she’s going to become either. I need to consult my library. There has to be something that can be done to stop this, but I don’t have much time.”
With shaking fingers, he texted Phoenyx to let her know that he wouldn’t be here when she returned, but that Cortez would stand watch over Judas while she was gone. He also suggested that she not leave the apartment again tonight––under any circumstances. When his phone beeped, and he saw her reply, he breathed a quick sigh of relief. She was alive.
Where are you going?
Hutton didn’t bother answering, he simply slid his phone into his slacks and turned to Cortez. “I’m leaving. Stay here until she gets back, and if you can help it, don’t leave. She needs someone here.”
Cortez frowned and held up his hands to stop him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! H, you’re not going to take off again and leave me here with this calamity magnet. The last time you were out of commission, I almost got flattened by a vamp and then eaten by my homegirl.”
Nodding, Hutton began to pack his briefcase. “Yes, I understand, but you’re a Demon––”
“––Sand Demon,” Cortez corrected.
“And I’m sure you can take care of yourself,” Hutton finished, avoiding Cortez’s protests. Finally, he looked up. “You’ll be fine. He’s shackled with silver, and barely knows which way is up. Cortez, this is extremely important. Your homegirl is in trouble.”
“Then let me come with you,” Cortez insisted, worry standing out clearly in the depths of eyes too soft to come from some remote corner of hell.
This one challenged Hutton’s idea of what a demon really was every single day. He laid a friendly hand on Cortez’s shoulder and smiled. “She needs you here.”
Cortez came around the kitchen island to stand in front of him, boring cognac colored eyes into his soul. “There’s something wrong with her, isn’t there?”
Hutton smiled sadly. “Define wrong, my friend.”
***
The office in her father’s sitting room was torn to shreds. She’d ripped through every volume of Vampire and Lilin demon history, trying to find the prophecy her father so often spoke of, but never shared in detail. With chest pumping from the effort to breath, and blood coursing wildly through her body, Lilith leaned hard against the desk, head bowed and body shivering with rage. That fucking bitch was besting her right before her father’s eyes, and she wasn’t even on the same bloody side.
Curling her fists in rage, her nails biting into the flesh of her palms, she found herself warmed by the anger she felt.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
She slid her eyes slowly to the silhouette of her father standing in the doorway, the light from the fireplace in the living room casting a fiery glow behind him. He looked like a demon rising up from the pits of hell. Lilith knew very well that he was. She set her lips in a grim line and threw her head back, long, blonde hair spilling down her back. “I was looking for something to read.”
Her father chuckled. “You won’t find what you’re looking for here, princess. I don’t have the book.”
Her jaw hung slack, blue eyes glittering like jewels in the darkness. Lilith turned her body toward Lazarus. “What do you mean, you don’t have it?”
“I assume you’re looking for the book that holds your sister’s prophecy?” Lazarus asked quietly as he strolled leisurely into the room, his entire body hidden in shadow, save for the faint glimmer in his green eyes. He smiled, his teeth white against the darkness. “You won’t find it here.”
“Well, where the hell is it?” Lilith spat, her eyes blazing electric blue.
Lazarus lifted his chin, his eyes narrowed at her. “Why do you need to know so badly?”
Fury began to pulse its way through her veins. He was ridiculing her. How dare he? Slipping out into the middle of the floor, she stood facing him in the dark, her heart nearly leaping from her chest. “Why do you need her so badly?”
He sneered at her. “This jealousy is unbecoming of you, Lily.”
“Jealousy?” She snorted indignantly. “I feel sorry for you. She’ll never be what you want her to be. You’re chasing a dream that may or may not exist. You dragged us out of Europe and across every godforsaken state in North America to find that sniveling, worthless bitch––and all because of a prophecy you read once in a book, that you don’t even have? I’m trying to protect you.”
“Protect me,” he repeated, tearing his eyes away from her, and staring hard out the window toward the ocean as it rocked beneath the blood moon. Lazarus’ eyes flickered momentarily before easing upward. He walked slowly to the window, his eyes riveted.
“What is it?” Lilith demanded.
A slow smile spread across her father’s handsome face. A smile she had seen more than once in her lifetime with him. It was a smile that told her he knew things others did not. She swallowed thickly. “Father?”
“Blood on the moon,” he murmured before turning to face her. “Lily, my first born, my most wicked child––there is blood on the moon.”
“What does it mean?” She hissed, feeling the currents moving outward from the moonbeams as they bounced like silver from every surface.
Turning slowly, the bright moonlight illuminated Lazarus’ face only enough that she could see a gleam of excitement in his eyes. He bared his teeth in a wicked grin, his canines catching the moonglow. “Why, Lily, my darling. It would appear The Nearing is finally upon us.” He turned back to gaze out the window at that baneful moon and breathed deeply. “It won’t be much longer now.”
Lilith felt the Earth drop from beneath her. The Nearing. The words slithered through her brain like black tar, sticking to every neuron, and coating it with hatred. A ball of resentment sat tightly in the hollow of her throat, making it hard to breath. This is it. All those years chasing this little bitch were finally culminating into the main event, and I wasn’t even given front row tickets. Lilith wanted to scream, but instead she whispered. “I’m retiring for the evening.”
She turned wordlessly and walked from the room. A million thoughts scrambled her already demented brain, firecrackers going off at every one. A misery crept into her chest and she knew there was only one thing she could do, but she would have to be smart about it. This wasn’t something she could just dive into without a solid approach, and for that, she needed her secret weapon––someone as deranged as she was to fill the plot holes and make it all come together in a smooth, cohesive plan.
As though she were floating, she found herself standing at her bedroom door. Opening it slowly, she peered within to find Ian lounging on the bed. Her breath caught. He was a wicked, wicked man. What she felt for him was as close to love as a monster could surmise. He was as rotten to the core as she was, and had no qualms showing it to the world. He hadn’t heard her step into the room, so she quietly closed the door behind her. At the sound of the click, his eyes snapped to her. Those cold, ruthless eyes. They ate up every inch of her body, and Lilith could feel the familiar stirrings begin.
Without a word, she quietly unbuttoned her silk blouse before slipping it over her fine, creamy shoulders. She was naked beneath, and she could sense his breath quickening, even before she heard it. And the heat that pooled between his legs was like a beacon calling her home.
“Come here,” she demanded.
Ian leapt from the bed, his erection painfully evident as it strained against the front of his black sweats. He was shirtless, and the muscles in his chest rippled as he prowled toward her, moving like a sleek animal, stalking her. Lilith pressed herself against the door, the wood cold at her back as Ian closed the distance. When they were nothing more than a papers width apart, chest to chest, he devoured her lips with his.
She moaned, sucking his lower lip deeply into the wet cavity of her hot mouth before catching it between her teeth. He growled, dragging his mouth away and down the long, delicate line of her neck to her chest, ravaging her breasts and nipping hard at her aching nipples with his teeth. She gasped, driving her fingers into his inky black hair and pulling him closer.
This wasn’t about feeding. She’d had her fill before, and would be sustained for at least a day or two. No, this was about losing herself in something other than her father’s ludicrous obsession and ambition.
She drew Ian’s head upward until their eyes locked. She could feel his hands climbing the outer edges of her thighs as he slid her skirt upward, exposing the tops of her thigh high stockings and bare pussy.
Lilith eased her body around, pressing her swollen breasts to the wooden door and sticking her ass out, arching it sensually at him. Ian dropped to his knees and buried his face in the sweet nectar of her cunt. Her mouth opened in a silent cry of satisfaction as his tongue entered her aching sex and massaged it slowly. Her back arched and she pressed her ass back at him while he took his time devouring every last drop of liquid there. Ian was ravenous, the sounds of him feasting on her slick folds, music to her Succubus ears.
“Fuck me,” she whispered, her voice a quiver of need. “Now. Fuck me now.”
Standing, Ian gripped her hips firmly and slammed his thick cock home. There was no easing in, no gentle nudging, just a violent angst-filled upward plunge that took her breath away and rocked her black, little heart.
Lilith cried out, her nails leaving claw marks in the wood as he fucked her savagely, the door knocking on its frame. One of Ian’s hands climbed to gather a breast in the palm of his hand, squeezing almost painfully, but it only fueled her passion. “That’s it,” she hissed, pushing back against him roughly. “Harder.”
He obliged, sliding his other arm around her waist and burying his face in the long spill of hair at her neck as he forcefully drilled into her. The sounds of their sex echoed in the silence of the room, slick skin on skin. Sweat and need.
“Like this?” he panted, anchoring her firmly as he fucked her senseless.
Breathless laughter bubbled to her lips and she could feel her orgasm taking hold, uncoiling like a serpent in the pit of her belly, ready to strike at any moment. “Yes,” she hissed, her sex clamping down around him like an iron grip as he thrust ferociously in and out of her body. “Yes, just like that.”
As the pleasure they both sought eagerly finally took hold, Lilith exploded into a million dead stars and Ian groaned as he spilled every last drop of his soul into her body. Still holding onto her breast, his arms tight around her waist, he feathered soft kisses along her damp cheek. She turned her face slowly and locked eyes with him again, a slow, feral gleam entering their depths and she smiled.
“There’s been a change of plans.”