Asmodeus remembered those terrible days, knew all too well
some fraction of what Ash had suffered in those dark and terrible dungeons.
“Templeton waits for it, has prepared for it. He has shown
me the shackles that my brethren will wear. I will not see them in chains.”
“We’ll find a way out first,” she said.
“I have tried everything. So long as I wear these,” he held
up the iron bracelets on his wrists and gestured at the shackle on his ankle,
“I am bound here. Even without them, there is the
Book
, and its binding
spells.”
“Asmodeus,” Gabriel said, softly, frowning a little, “could
you conjure up my gun and ID the way you did the firepots?”
“I can,” he said, “all I need is the image I see in your
head.” He looked out into the darkness, at the unseen watchers hidden there.
“But not unseen.”
“We’ll find a way, Asmodeus,” Gabriel said. “We’ll figure
out something. Just promise you won’t do anything. Promise me. Don’t you speak
of death, or dying either. Not for yourself. Please, Asmodeus.” Gently but
firmly, as she turned on her side to look at him, Gabriel said, “Promise me,
Asmodeus.”
Asmodeus smiled a little as he brushed his fingers across
her breast and the nipple tightened.
“For you,” he said, knowing what she could not say.
He had seen the fear in her eyes, the grief and the loss.
She, too, had lost those she loved and feared the loss of him now as well.
Lightly, he toyed with her nipple to distract her. His tail
slid up between her thighs, wiggled entreatingly at the entrance to her core
until she smothered a smile at the look in his eyes and parted them.
“Demon of Lust?”
“Hmmmm,” he murmured. “Insatiable.” And he was, for her.
“Where and how do you bathe, by the way, with that on?” She
gestured to the chain on his ankle.
Suddenly water poured down and she was drenched with water
as he conjured it up. Doused, Gabriel let out a shriek and then narrowed her
eyes at him.
“Like that,” he said, grinning. “Like the firepots.”
In an instant they were dry and clean.
“Very funny.”
He smiled, propped his head on his hand and leaned forward
to lick the droplets of water from her breasts, one by one.
“You know, I could quite happily feast on these for some
hours.”
Giving him a look, she said, apparently puzzled, “It seems
to me, my lord Daemon, that you haven’t claimed the one service many men seek
most.”
She was closer than she knew in the title she gave him,
another of the many things Asmodeus knew he must tell her someday soon.
Amused, Asmodeus said, “What service is that? I can think of
many.”
“Oh?” she said, clearly intrigued.
“Hmmmm.”
“There is this one,” she said, as, scooting closer, she
nibbled lightly at his nipple. A bright spark of pleasure shot through him as
she ran her tongue around it, sucked and nipped at it.
She slid slowly down his body, tasting his skin, her soft,
warm tongue lapping at him. His belly tightened and Asmodeus found the tide had
turned on him. It was she who seduced him now.
He groaned as she dipped down to his navel so his hardening
cock nestled between her full breasts. Pressing them together around his shaft,
she arched her back and rocked so her breasts stroked him. He went rock hard in
the instant she tipped her head down and licked the head of his cock as it
speared between those full white globes.
His body tightened even further as she fucked his cock with
her breasts and her hot, wet mouth. She licked him like an ice-cream cone,
lapped up each dot of pre-cum with a smooth glide of her tongue across the head
and the slit.
Asmodeus thought he would lose his mind with the sensation
of her tongue sweeping across him, the silken softness of her breasts around
his cock.
“Demon of Lust, my ass,” she muttered, and gave him a
glinting, mischievous upward glance.
With a groan, Asmodeus said, “That can be arranged too.”
Those blue eyes looked up at him and then she sucked as much
of the head of his cock into her pretty mouth as she could. His balls drew up
hard, tightened as his body bucked, jolted and he groaned with the pure
pleasure of it. He doubted he could get any harder.
In one motion he rolled onto his back at the same time that
he lifted her with his hands around her ribs. He rammed her down hard onto his
rigid shaft so he was deep inside her in an instant. He lifted her once more
and then drove her deliciously tight pussy down on his cock.
“Ride me, Gabriel,” he demanded. “Ride me hard.”
Gabriel was more than willing to oblige, his hands on her
hips giving her that much more impetus, driving her down harder each time onto
his stiff cock.
That long, thick shaft drove up inside her as his hands came
up to crush her breasts, to trap her nipples between his fingers. He squeezed
them hard, tortured and tormented them and she squirmed on his cock even as she
rode it.
Beneath her, Asmodeus’ beautiful face was rapt, lost in
pleasure, everything else forgotten.
Gabriel smiled.
As quick as a snake he reared up to suck her breast into his
mouth. He suckled hard as his hand on the back of her neck held her in place
and he fucked her deep and hard in time to each pull of his mouth. Spreading
his legs, he spread her thighs, grabbed her ass cheeks to spread them, and his
tail speared up into her ass.
She came with a shriek and shuddered as Asmodeus drove up,
his hot cum shooting into her as he quivered in ecstasy against her.
Chapter Six
Asmodeus woke up hungry and drowsily drew Gabriel close. His
mouth settled over her throat to nuzzle. His fangs pierced the thin skin easily
and his mouth flooded with her sweet taste. With a sigh of contentment, he
pulled her close and settled in to feed, the sweet warm taste of her essence deeply
satisfying. To his delight, she sleepily snuggled closer and angled her throat
to make it easier for him. His hands drifted over her, teased her nipples as
much to caress as for his own pleasure.
Her arm curled up around his neck to pull his mouth harder
against her.
To his surprise, more venom spurted from his fangs as they
penetrated her and she arched in pleasure as it seared through her veins. His
body knew more than he did and was eager to claim her completely.
Her breasts swelled against his hands.
Reluctantly, he lifted his mouth from her.
“By the gods, you’re sweet, my angel,” he murmured against
her ear.
She sighed. “I love this.”
It was the first time she had said as much and Asmodeus’
heart lightened, eased. There was that about the venom that allowed him to feed
from her so freely, but even so, it was something to hear her say the words, to
know it gave her so much satisfaction too.
He also grew stronger with each feeding. It had been a long
time since he had felt such power. There was a ways to go but his Gabriel was
giving him strength again. Strength such as he had not felt in millennia.
Strength enough, perhaps, and soon, to throw off Templeton’s yoke.
Once he would have been strong enough to resist, but he’d
been caught by surprise and after so long without his one, his
mishea
,
by his side, he had weakened. Any human female would do, but his beloved, she
was more, far more.
Now he had her and it was sweet.
They might still win free. He had hope, finally, of escaping
his durance vile.
Dreamily, Gabriel smiled as she wallowed in the softness of
his lips on her throat, of his fangs piercing it again, of each draw on it, on
the rise and sinking flow of her blood in her veins, oddly pleasurable as he
drank from her. A little shiver went through her as Asmodeus’ warm mouth closed
more tightly on her and he fed in earnest. A rush of delight went through her
with each steady pull of his mouth.
She quivered, trembled. Asmodeus feeding on her was such a
pleasure.
Surrendering to Asmodeus, Gabriel let each sweet roll of
bliss wash through her, her arms tight around him.
They both heard the distant doors open, sensed the change in
the air with a jolt.
Quickly, Asmodeus withdrew his fangs, gave her a swift kiss
and clothed her once again as footsteps echoed over the marble.
As with the day before, Templeton insisted Asmodeus
accompany him on another journey.
Gabriel watched them go, frowning and chewing on her lip
speculatively.
It was that kind of greed that had led to her suspicions of
Templeton, but how, Gabriel wondered, did one prove that magic was involved in
a court of law?
Gabriel watched Asmodeus’ broad back disappear once again
into the surrounding darkness. She knew he didn’t dare look back or reveal how
important he thought her.
Then they were gone.
One of Baker’s men brought her the only meal of the day and
she ate it without tasting it as she watched the movements of the men.
Most of them just stood idly, their weapons pointed
downward. Before, they had been silent, alert, but now with the boss gone they
talked and joked with each other easily as they had not the day before.
It was a good sign—they had relaxed. They clearly didn’t
view her as a threat any longer.
The
Book of Demons
stood on the podium. Without
Templeton’s minion, no one bothered it. No one watched it. They didn’t consider
it important. Gordon Templeton did but his people didn’t. They didn’t
understand it.
With little to do but think, Gabriel went over everything
Asmodeus had said to her, everything he had told her. An idea, a plan slowly
formed in her head. It might possibly work. It would depend on a lot of things,
but first and foremost she needed to know more.
“Bathroom?” she asked.
This time Baker left the duty to his men, assigning three of
them to cover her. She might have been able to take two of them but three big
men were impossible, even with her skills, not without one of them shouting a
warning. As she didn’t know the layout of the building and she didn’t need to
try yet with Asmodeus away, she was grateful the opportunity hadn’t presented
itself.
As before, they left her alone in the bathroom. It was her
only chance for privacy.
Turning on the shower to cover any sounds, she took a
gamble.
Asmodeus had said his brothers listened for him. If she
could speak to Asmodeus mind to mind, could she speak to those others? She
wouldn’t have much time to try. But if they were looking for Asmodeus,
listening for him? He had said Templeton was prepared for them. But that was
with Asmodeus himself present and within the circle. There was no reason for
Templeton to think they would answer her. And it was very likely they wouldn’t
since she wasn’t a demon. Daemonae.
She had to try. Either it would work, or it wouldn’t.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Concentrating, she ran the name of every demon she could
think of through her mind, grateful now for all that research she had done
while investigating Templeton. She
called
to them in the same way she
thought
with Asmodeus, particularly Ashtoreth, and poured into it the sense of him she’d
gained from Asmodeus, with admonitions for quiet. Hoping and praying they would
hear her.
Just the thought of Asmodeus made her ache in so many ways.
And then, astonishingly, she wasn’t alone.
To her stunned amazement, she suddenly shared the bathroom with
several very tall, very large, very muscular…
Demons.
Unmistakably. Demons. Daemonae. Horns, tails, beautifully
sculpted faces, gleaming, magnificently muscled bodies—red, black, gold…all of
it. Everything. And tall. Massive. All of them.
One of them most especially.
His strong, almost Asian features stark, grim, sharp-boned
and stern, his brilliant eyes golden and flecked with sparks of fire. A good
many people would have found him more than a little intimidating. Some would
have found him terrifying.
“Aren’t any of you small?” she complained as she looked at
the demons grouped around her.
To her surprise the grim one chuckled and shook his head in
both amazement and amusement. That smile transformed his face completely from
fierce and implacable to almost friendly.
“No.” His voice was a deep rumble.
Like Asmodeus, he was beautiful but the lines of his face
were far more angular and the slant to his eyes spoke more of the East than the
West. His long, ebony hair gleamed against skin the same shade as Asmodeus’
skin but with shades of gold running beneath it that shimmered as if he were
living flame. His eyes were molten gold in a stern, almost cruel and seemingly
unforgiving face, save for that chuckle. And the sparkle of amusement in his
eyes.
That seemingly grim face didn’t even make Gabriel flinch,
especially after seeing that brief flash of humor.
In her career she had hunted stone-cold killers with faces
as innocent and pretty as a choirboy’s and predatory souls with eyes as cold
and empty as a shark’s. She had seen a boy as young as thirteen kill without
thought and a man with harsh, rough features throw himself selflessly in the
line of fire for another.
There was an air of strength and command about this one
though that reminded her strongly of Asmodeus.
He bore scars on him too, as did Asmodeus, but his were
older. Far older. She remembered what Asmodeus had said about what the priests
had done to some of the Daemonae. To one in particular. And she shuddered
inwardly.
Ashtoreth.
Seeing the scars on him, she understood and her heart bled
for him.
That Daemonae studied her in turn.
“I am Ashtoreth,” he said. “You have news of Asmodeus?”
So she’d been right.
Ashtoreth. She remembered the shadows in Asmodeus’ eyes when
he’d talked of the past. Ashtoreth been one of those the priests had summoned
with the
Book
and tortured. The marks they had left on him were
unmistakable.