CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The apartment building might have been empty, but there was, running water, which right now was a blessing. Mammon refused to let Isabelle go, so he balanced on one foot, kicking on the faucets of the sunken tub. He knelt, laying her on the tile just long enough so he could strip off his blood-stained pants. Kneeling beside Isabelle once more, he gently pulled her sweater over her head. Her skin felt cold to his touch, and that alone worried him. His hands moved down her body, stripping the blood-soaked jeans from her legs.
The coppery scent of blood coated the back of his throat, forcing him to pause for a second. The vision of Cercyn, his clawed hand around Isabelle’s delicate throat hit him in the gut. He concentrated and breathed in and out in an effort to pull his rage under control. He didn’t want Isabelle to wake up covered in demon blood. He needed to remain in control.
Finally, all her clothes were off, leaving only her blood-stained bra and panties, and those he could remove in the water. She looked deathly cold lying on the tile, and his heart tightened at the sight. Gently gathering her small form into his arms, he carried her to the tub, carefully stepping down into it. The water was lukewarm, no doubt from pipes long unused. He could play with the temperature later, right now he wanted her clean and awake.
Mammon lowered her into the slowly filling tub, keeping her on his lap. Using his hands, he began washing the dried blood from her skin gently, tilting her head back so he could dip her hair into the swirling water. A soft pink tinted the liquid as he washed the blood from her body and then his own. He gently removed her blood-stained underwear, tossing it out of the tub. Her skin was so cold, even in the warm water. Agonized worry pulled at him.
Holding her close, he pulled the plug to allow the blood-stained water to drain from the tub, then adjusted the faucets to bring in fresh hot water. Gradually, clear water began to rise around them while he stroked her damp hair and pressed his lips to her temple.
“Come on, Isabelle. Come back to me, Minx. I am hollow without you.” He closed his eyes, fingers rubbing small circles on her lower back, while his other hand gently pressed her wet head against his throat. He had never experienced such fear in his life.
“Isabelle, open your eyes, dear one.” She knew this voice which floated to her like a soft wind through the trees. With a groan, she opened her eyes, the light stinging her vision for a second before the small form of Ilianna came into focus.
“There you are! Welcome back.” Ilianna helped Isabelle sit up. She was back in the clouded world from her dream. This time she was sure she wasn’t sleeping. What had she been doing before she ended up here? It seemed important.
“You can’t stay long. You have important things to do now. You have finally awoken. Your powers are under your control. Just try not to delve so deeply into your own well again. That is most dangerous. Your own internal source is finite. It will recharge given time, but using it as you did is dangerous.” Ilianna reached out to smooth Isabelle’s hair from her forehead.
“I remember a demon. He was angry, enraged. He wouldn’t let the others help him, so I tried to calm him down. He was bleeding everywhere.” Isabelle looked down, expecting to see blood around her. But she was clean, dressed in that flowing white gown once again.
“Yes, your powers go so much deeper than just experiencing what another feels. You are able to influence the emotions of others, to calm or instill fear if need be. Empathy is so much more. You will discover in time. You must find the others, Isabelle. Michael will not stop, he will not waver. He believes, with every breath he takes, this is the right thing to do.” Ilianna stood and looked out over the bright grass, the wind sending her long hair flowing behind her.
“He was not always like this. Once, long ago he was hopeful for humanity. Loved humanity and their diversity. Loved me.” Isabelle watched as the small woman wrapped her arms around herself, head down. “He had such an amazing sense of humor, always laughing. Then I was taken from him. You would think he would come for me. But this place…” She looked up at the sky, and her golden eyes held so much pain it echoed through Isabelle like a chime.
“The Elysium Fields is between worlds. A place I cannot leave and a place he cannot enter. Long ago I could feel him reaching for me. But each time he did, he felt less and less…him.” Ilianna turned her golden eyes to Isabelle and gave her a sad smile.
“I could feel the flow of time, the future opening before me like a flower. Each petal a possible direction for the ebb of fate. Every turn he took, it led him to the man he has become. I did not wish to believe. I hoped he would take a different path. Finally he no longer felt like the man I had once loved.
“We have come to this. Only one path remains before us. But soon, many new petals will open. You and your sister Seers, you will change the flow. You will all visit me here. My blood flowing in your veins grants you passage.” Her words rang with power, her eyes swirling like small spiral galaxies of gold and silver. She seemed to be looking through Isabelle, not seeing her, but seeing into her. Then she blinked and the spiraling of her eyes stopped. She focused on Isabelle again.
“I am sorry. I have kept you here too long. Your demon will lose his mind if I don’t send you back.” Isabelle stood from where she had been sitting on the grass and went to the small woman.
“If I can help Michael, I will. I promise.” The little woman nodded, a smile spreading on her lips, her small hand covering her heart. It was painfully clear she had once loved the angel who now planned to destroy the world.
“You are a good spirit, Isabelle. Go back to your demon. You have an important task ahead of you.” She reached out, grasping Isabelle’s hands in hers.
Isabelle felt her body becoming light as power tingled through her limbs. The green grass and blue sky faded, and the last thing she saw Ilianna disappearing. A hazy blackness swallowed her in warmth. The Oracle's words ran through her head, the weight of her fate weighing heavily upon her shoulders. But she would endure it—she had her demon and he waited for her.
Mammon wrapped himself around her, determined she would wake with his scent all over her. Hot water lapped around her body, ensuring the chill from the air wouldn’t reach her. He turned his head against her neck as she began to wake from her unconscious state. Her eyes fluttered, and she turned her face to him. He tightened his arms around her, cupping her cheek and tilting her head back. He didn’t give her a chance to speak but covered her mouth, swallowing her words with a toe-curling kiss of desperation.
She moaned softly into his claiming kiss. He was determined to infuse it with all the words he couldn’t utter, the fear he had experienced when she passed out in his arms. He would drive the paleness from her flesh leaving her with that luscious flushed pink he loved so much. Mammon finally broke the kiss, his eyes scanning her face before he pulled her head to his chest.
“If you ever do anything so foolish again, Isabelle, I will not be held responsible for my actions. He could have killed you! Gods, the Pit caused me less pain than seeing his claws around your throat.” He was holding her so tightly each breath caused his body to tremble.
“I’m sorry, Mammon. I had to do something. He was in terrible pain. How is he?” She twisted around so she could see his eyes. He growled, claiming her mouth again, not allowing her to speak. His tongue swept between her lips, his desperate demand answered when she melted against him.
He gritted his teeth. He wanted to cover her, pin her, and drive into her body. Make her scream his name so she remembered who she belonged to. He wanted her to understand she couldn’t put her life at risk without him losing his mind. They were bound together, his sanity tied inexplicably to her. His fingers gently brushed over the bruises blossoming on her neck, which had been caused by Cercyn’s grip. Mammon’s eyes flashed with flame, his hand becoming a fist and his voice turning deadly.
“If he were not already at Hades’ door, I would kill him myself.” She turned in his lap, straddling him in the large tub. Green fire licked over his skin, the scars standing out in stark contrast against the emerald light.
“You, above all people, should understand the pain he felt.” She ran her hands over his marbled skin, the flames flickering between her fingers.
Mammon curled his lip at her words, but kept his hands on her hips. “I thought were you passing from me. I knew I would tear down the walls of Hades to find you.” His powerful proclamation made tears glistened in her eyes. They spilled over and rolled down her cheeks in hot rivers. With a rumbled growl he pressed his forehead to hers, their eyes locking.
“I would cross over for you.” He placed such conviction in his words a soft sob left her lips and she covered his mouth again clinging to him in desperation.
Mammon responded, demanding control of the kiss, his tongue sweeping in and out of her mouth until she writhed on his lap. His blood pounded in his veins rushing straight to his cock. She was alive and panting in his arms, and his soul demanded he take her and claim her. His hand trailed down, slipping between her thighs. He sank his fingers into her tight body, giving her no choice but to submit to him. She gasped and rocked her hips against his hand. He knew she needed more by the trembling of her body in his lap, her movements almost as desperate as his.
His hands caressed her skin, leaving trails of green flame that danced over the water’s surface. The flames enveloped her, spreading up and over her bare flesh. Judging by her gasps and the surprised look in her eyes, she hadn’t expected to be able to feel them.
“You’re just full of revelations, aren’t you?” Her breathy voice was cut off as he grinned and leaned in, biting gently along her throat.
“You ain't seen nothing yet.” He literally purred the words into her ear, hands massaging her ass.
His thick cock now stood hard between them, pressing against her belly. Reaching between them, Isabelle she took him in her hand. Mammon threw his head back with a groan, sparks igniting in his lower back. If she kept this up, he was going to embarrass himself like some untrained teen.
Isabelle felt powerful and wanton. The fact she could have this magnificent male trembling at her touch spurred her on. She ran her hand along his length, rubbing her thumb over the weeping head, and drawing a hiss from between his teeth. She teased, tightening her grip around the hot, steely flesh. As much as she wanted to spend her time teasing and exploring his body, that could come later. Right now she needed him inside her.
Lifting her hips, she positioned herself over his velvet head, and slowly began to envelope him in her body. His wide girth stretched and spread her, as glorious pulsing sensations rushed over her skin. His hands moved to her hips, pulling her down hard onto his length. Mouths met in frenzied heat, tongues dancing, mimicking the hard thrusting of their bodies as they merged in lust and need. This was no sweet love making—this was desperation, a craving driving them both towards oblivion.
She arched her back, exposing her peaked nipples for his mouth. Taking one between his teeth, he bit down then released the blushed peak, and her body flooded with wet heat at the exquisite pain. Sucking the tip between his lips, he flicked his tongue against the sensitive bud. He knew how to play her until he had her writhing in his arms.
Isabelle rocked against him, whimpering softly, his name leaving her lips in a breathy prayer. His cock slid deeply in and out of her core as their bodies met in frantic urgency. The demon growled and wrapped his arms around her, holding her still for his hard thrusts. His stubble-covered chin rasped over her sensitive skin while he kissed across her chest to the other breast. He lavished them with bites and kisses until she begged softly for him to ease the building pressure in her body.
Isabelle loved that he could bring her to such abandon, that he understood her need to come apart almost as desperately as she needed to breathe. She felt his hand sliding between them, his thumb pressing against her swollen clit, rubbing. He took her clit between his fingers, pinching until she exploded around him.
Shock surged through her body her release hitting her like a train. Threads of pleasure rolled up her legs, into her core, washing through her veins. Her whole body drew tight like a bow string, as wave after wave robbed her of thought. The demon continued to rub her clit in slow circles, keeping her body teetering on the edge of pain and bliss. He had killed her with pleasure, and she was going to pass over happily, feeling the bliss of it, her whole body burning alive.
In this dreamy state of post-coital bliss, Isabelle vaguely heard Mammon’s roar. She did, however, feel his teeth against her throat as he bit down in his throes of pleasure. The sensation only served to heighten her experience. She was floating, the energy rushing through more like a drug running through her veins. She felt his hands on her cheeks, then his mouth covered hers, pulling her back to earth. They kissed languidly, tasting one another. No words were necessary.
They remained that way, panting, leaning on one another, lips and tongues exploring. Her body continued to pulse around him softly, the echoes of her orgasm drawing a low groan from his throat. They separated from the kiss. Mammon licked his dry lips and leaned against the tub. Isabelle smiled and placed her head against his chest, listening to his thundering heartbeat. Yeah, she felt just the way he did. Movement was impossible.