The Nightwind's Woman (8 page)

“Fuck
no
, I don’t!” Randon shouted. “Kenzi
Delaney is mine!”

“So you think, incubus,” the archdemon said
with a shrug. “When I claim her, my seed will burn the filth of yours from her
body.”

Fury erupted from the Nightwind and he
sprang at Kerreyder. Not in his human form but as the beast he had been in the
Abyss—the beast that was never far from the surface. Claws extended, fangs
bared, he threw himself forward only to find his body slammed savagely to the
ceiling above the archdemon’s head. A vicious weight pressed the entire length
of his writhing body as he struggled to break free of the invisible hold. He
opened his mouth to howl but no sound came forth.

“He is an impetuous piece of work isn’t he,
Alexandru?” Kerreyder said, not bothering to look up at his captive.

“He is not as ineffectual as you believe
him to be,” the Supervisor said ominously.

“He is as a dried leaf blowing in a
hurricane,” the archdemon said with a snort. “If I wanted to, I could send him
back to the Abyss before he took another breath but it pleases me to keep him
here awhile longer.”

“You did not answer him about the woman.
How do you know of her?”

Kerreyder looked up—directly into the
glowing red eyes of a demon of whom he had made an eternal enemy. “I have known
of her since time began for me. I knew I would find her one day but thought
that day long in the future. The moment I sensed her come into this facility, I
knew who she was. She is my ordained Blood-mate and there is nothing he can do
about it,” he replied and watched the incubus foam at the mouth with rage.

“This will not end well,” the Supervisor
predicted.

“He’ll learn to live with it,” Kerreyder
told him. “I won’t take her with me when I go back to Treigeilys but I will
visit her when the need comes to me.”

The violent growl emanating from the
ceiling seemed to amuse the archdemon. He flicked his hand and the Nightwind
sailed through the air and hit the far wall with enough force to put a dent in
it where his heavy boots landed. The incubus hung there for a second longer
then crashed face-first to the floor.

“Son of a bitch!” Randon hissed as his nose
struck the hard surface.

“Don’t fuck with me, incubus,” Kerreyder
said. “You’ll lose every time.”

“How long are you going to be here?” the
Supervisor asked, a muscle working in his cheek. He could not move and it was
obvious pride forbade him from asking to be released from the archdemon’s hold.

“After I have consummated—”

“Fuck you!” Randon bellowed as he pushed to
his feet then found he could not take a step forward.

“Accomplished?” Kerreyder said. “Does that
word suit you better, incubus?”

“If you touch her, I will find a way to
destroy you!” the Nightwind vowed.

“You cannot destroy what is indestructible,
little man,” Kerreyder said with a chuckle. “I am immortal, the son of a god.”

“The bastard son of a god and one of the
whorish queens of Treigeilys,” Randon threw at him.

“But son, nevertheless, and aye, my mother
is a whore and quite proud of the millions of lovers she’s taken to her bed,”
Kerreyder replied. “As for your threat? I cannot be killed or hurt in any way
although my heart might well break at having to leave McKenzi here with you.
Alas, I cannot take her with me. She does not belong there.”

“Thank the gods for small favors,” the
Supervisor mumbled.

“I will treat her with the utmost respect,”
the archdemon said. “And it is only because I respect her destiny with the
incubus that I will allow him to keep her at his side.”

“She is afraid of you,” Randon snapped.

“She is afraid of the
wendigo
,”
Kerreyder corrected. “Not me. Not what she will see when I go to her later this
night.” He smiled. “She likes this face and body and has no doubt dreamed of
being taken by the man who bears such a strong resemblance to me.”

“Is this how you truly look or is it an
illusion meant to seduce her?” the Supervisor wanted to know.

“This is my true form, Alexandru. I take no
responsibility for how I look. My parents are handsome people. I have them to
thank for the way my features were put together. It is mere coincidence that
actor looks like me.” He grinned. “Lucky fellow.”

“Make yourself human for five minutes or so
and I’ll fucking rearrange those features for you,” Randon threatened.

Kerreyder shook his head. “He is not quite
rational, Alexandru. I believe the concept of being immortal is hard for him to
grasp. Does he have trouble with other simple concepts like tying shoes?”

“Release him,” the Supervisor said. “You
are only making matters worse.”

A shrug, a wave of his hand and both Randon
and the Supervisor were freed from their motionlessness. But Kerreyder pointed
a rigid finger at the incubus.

“Give me reason to stop you again from
making a fool of yourself and I’ll send you back to the Abyss,” he said.

“You can’t,” Randon sneered.

“I can and I will,” was the steely eyed
reply.

“Don’t test him, Kayle!” the Supervisor
warned. “You can’t risk it.”

“I’m not going to stand here and let him
rape my woman!”

“I’ve never raped a woman in the ten
billion years I’ve been alive. I am not going to start now and especially not
the woman destined to be my heart and soul,” Kerreyder stated. “Any more shit
from you, incubus, and I promise you the slime of the Abyss will be where you
will spend eternity. Lilith or no Lilith.”

“He can do it, Randon,” the Supervisor
said. “Tread wisely.”

“And consider what you say next very carefully,”
Kerreyder added. “I am willing to share her but if you continue to fight me on
it, I’ll have no choice but to take you out of the picture altogether.”

“She is my life-mate,” Randon said.

“Aye and my Blood-mate. One cancels out the
other but I am a reasonable man, incubus. Can
you
be as equally reasonable?”

Anger had etched deep lines into the
Nightwind’s face. He glanced at the Supervisor who shook his head in warning
then lifted his chin. “I am not a man to buckle under to another man—archdemon
or not.”

“Understood,” Kerreyder granted. “But can
you be reasonable in this one regard or do I send you back to the cold,
lightless drudge from whence you were raised?”

Randon clenched his fists, tightened his
lips, and narrowed his eyes. His entire body was rigidly clenched but he
managed to nod.

Just once.

And very quickly.

“All right,” Kerreyder said. “That settles
that.”

“You look like somebody lit your fart and
it singed your ass, Breakwind,” the Reaper said as he came abreast of Randon.

“One more crack out of you and you will be
taking your nourishment from a tube down your toothless mouth,” Randon warned.

“Trouble with your little life-mate?”
Darkyn quipped. He turned and began walking backward, facing the Nightwind. “Did
she get a look at your teeny-weeny wittle weenie and go bye-bye?”

Randon whipped out his hand and grabbed the
Panthera Reaper by the belt buckle, picked him up and slung him down the
hallway. Sorn hissed, gave the ear-splitting yowl of a feline whose territory
has been invaded by another cat, and changed in midair to his black leopard
form—landing on all fours at the end of the hall. His green eyes pulsed red and
he lowered his upper body, hiked his hindquarters in preparation to spring. His
long tail swished once before he launched himself at the Nightwind.

The incubus shifted into an identical black
leopard and the two clashed in the middle of the hall—shrieking, biting and
clawing. They tumbled heads over tails and the sound they made as they fought
drew the attention of unwanted eyes.

One set of those eyes belonged to a visitor
to Tearmann and when his voice broke through their furious battle, it was like
a bucket of cold water being thrown over them.

“
Knock it off
!”

At the thunderous command the big cats
leapt apart though their fangs were still bared and fur bristling. They hissed
at one another, dared make the territorial yowl almost in tandem once more
before the visitor shifted to his own animal persona. His enraged howl startled
them and they backed away with tails low, backs arched, facing him warily as he
shot out a massive paw to swat at them.

“Thank you, Viraiden,” the Supervisor said.

The Prime Reaper Viraiden Cree changed back
to his humanoid form and gave both felines a dangerous glare that didn’t bode
well for their continued good health.

“Change back,” Cree ordered. “Now!”

Randon and Darkyn shifted immediately. It
was one thing to goad one another and quite something else to risk the ire of
the Prime.

And especially not Viraiden Cree who was
far older than both of them combined and ten times more powerful.

“I don’t care which of you started it, it
will stop,” Cree told them. “It’s bad enough having Abaddon here. Isn’t that
trouble enough for one millennium?”

Darkyn’s mouth sagged open. “The archdemon
is here? At Tearmann?”

“Aye, and expecting us to help him find and
capture three creatures who are on his shit list,” Cree grumbled. “As if we
have nothing better to do with our time than cater to him.”

“Abaddon is here,” Darkyn said and swiped a
hand over his sweaty face. He cast a quick look at Randon. “Is that what got
your panties in a wad?”

“He’s claiming my woman as his Blood-mate!”
Randon shouted. “You satisfied now, Sorn?”

“Go find your life-mate, Kayle,” the
Supervisor ordered the Nightwind. “Explain things to her before he does.”

“Man, I’m sorry,” Darkyn said. “That sucks.”

“Don’t pretend you give a shit how this
affects me,” Randon snapped.

“I
don’t
care, but it sucks for her,”
Sorn told him. “She seems nice.”

Randon shot him a nasty look, nodded at
Cree then hunched his shoulders as he left, the other men watching his
departure.

“This is fucked up,” Sorn said. “I hate the
demon’s guts but he doesn’t deserve to have Abaddon take his woman from him.”

“The archdemon isn’t taking her from him,”
the Supervisor said. “He is offering to share her with the Nightwind.”

“Shit, that’s almost as bad!” the Panthera
Reaper commented with a groan.

Cree snorted. “I know how I’d react if it were
my Bronwyn the bastard was after. Sharing is the same as violating in my book.
I don’t blame the incubus for being in a foul mood.” He looked pointedly at
Sorn. “But you? Keep your stupid remarks and your juvenile attitude to yourself
until this is settled. Am I making myself clear, Sorn?”

“Perfectly clear, sir,” Darkyn
acknowledged.

“Don’t give me cause to reprimand you,”
Cree warned. “You won’t like my punishment.”

“I understand, sir,” Darkyn replied.

“Now get the hell out of my sight!”

Sorn bowed respectfully and hurried away.

“I don’t need this shit right now,” Cree
groused.

“Neither of us do, but what choice do we
have? I could complain to
Mo Regina
but you know what She would do,” the
Supervisor replied.

“Laugh in your face and tell you She doesn’t
interfere with Her husband’s bastard brat,” Cree said.

“He’s not entirely evil.”

“Nor entirely good,” Cree amended. “Just
watch him.”

“It would not be that bad if it weren’t for
the woman.”

Cree shrugged. “That’s the way of this
world, milord.”

“Not so on your homeworld, eh?” the
Supervisor asked with a grin.

“Nor the way it was when I first came to
this one,” Cree replied.

“They’ve come a long way, baby,” was the
Ridge Lord’s quip.

“Aye, they have,” Cree agreed with a mock
sigh. “The females move forward and we males have learned to get the fuck out
of their way.”

* * * * *

Randon stood at the door to Kenzi’s suite
with his hands braced to either side of the panel. His head was down but he
wasn’t feeling defeated. He was pissed and striving not to let it show. He couldn’t
afford to for he knew the archdemon would make good on his threat to send him
back to the Abyss. That, he could never endure again. Besides, he knew in his
heart that Kenzi was the woman who was going to set him free of ever having to
return. To lose her would be to lose what minute bit of soul he had left.

Sighing heavily, he inched his right palm
to the scanner but stopped just short of placing his hand on the reader.
Instead he moved it to the intercom.

“Yes?”

“It’s me,” he said tiredly.

There was a pause then she asked him why he
didn’t enter.

“I’m trying to be respectful of your space,”
he answered.

“Oh for the love of Pete,” she grumbled and
the portal slid open.

He raised his head and met her eyes. One
look at his face and she closed her mouth for it was clear she’d been about to
chastise him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, reaching out to
touch his arm.

He tensed. “We need to talk.”

Her brow furrowed. “All right.” She removed
her hand and stepped back to give him room to pass her. When he did, she
pressed the control on the door to close it then turned to face him. “Has
something happened?”

Randon glanced at the sofa. “Let’s sit
down, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, drawing the word out as
though whatever he was going to say might not be something she wanted to hear.

Sitting down at the end of the sofa, he
expected her to sit beside him. Instead she moved to the chair across from him
and perched there like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded.

“The creature is not a
wendigo
,” he
said. “He is much worse than that.”

Kenzi blinked. “I thought
wendigos
were the worst.”

“There are varying degrees of evil, Kenzi,”
he said and ran a hand over his face. “What was in that cell is far more
dangerous than all the creatures in Tearmann put together.”

“
Was
in that cell,” she repeated. “As
he is no longer in the cell?”

He could hear her heartbeat speed up, smell
the fear that suddenly engulfed her.

“You have nothing to fear from him,” he was
quick to tell her. Seeing the unease, the fear shifting through her wary eyes
cut him to the core. “He would never harm you.”

“He almost gave me a heart attack,” she
said.

“That image wasn’t for you. It was for the
Supervisor,” he told her.

“Why?”

“Because he wasn’t ready to show his true
face to us,” he replied. “The face he first showed to you.”

“That’s what he really looks like? Like
Declan Brady?”

“I’m afraid so.” He settled back on the
cushion. “Strange that the actor you find so mesmerizing could be Kerreyder’s
twin.”

“Kerreyder?” she echoed. “That’s his name?”

“Kerreyder Abaddon.”

Her eyes widened. “Abaddon, as in the
Destroyer, the angel of the bottomless pit of the abyss in the book of
Revelation?”

“Archdemon actually,” he corrected. “But
aye, that Abaddon.”

“There are those who believe he is the
antichrist,” she said. “The devil himself.”

“He’s not the devil. The devil’s name is Yn
Drogh Spyrryd. I know because I have seen him, but it would not surprise me if
Kerreyder is the antichrist, though…”

“Though what?”

He smiled with a dark menace that made the
hair on her arms stir.

“The Jehovah’s Witnesses believe Abaddon is
another name for the resurrected and enthroned Jesus Christ.”

“He can’t be both.”

Randon shrugged. “Actually, he can. It is
said he is neither entirely good nor entirely evil and that both sides—the good
and the evil—consider him their ally, their champion. Until the Seventh Seal is
broken no one will know for sure whether he is the antichrist sent to unleash
hell on Terra or the archangel who will rein in Satan and chain him in the pit
for a thousand years.”

“Why is he here now?” she questioned then
turned pale. “Is the world coming to an end?”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “He
is here looking for creatures who have disobeyed Yn Drogh Spyrryd. He is here
to take them back to the Abyss where he is the warden of Prysson, the
bottomless pit.”

“I don’t understand. What has any of that
got to do with me?” she asked. “He said he had been waiting for me. Why me?
What am I to him?”

“That’s what we need to talk about,” he
said.

“And we will.”

The words startled them and they looked
around to see Kerreyder standing by the door.

“How did you—” Kenzi began as Randon shot
to his feet.

“You may go now,” Kerreyder told the
Nightwind.

“No,” Randon said, shaking his head. “I
will stay.”

“You.
Will
. Go. Now,” the archdemon
ordered and with a flick of his wrist Randon disappeared.

Kenzi scrambled out of her chair and put it
between her and Kerreyder. “What did you do to him?” she asked in a trembling
voice.

“When he wakes up, he’ll find himself in
the cell into which he put me. He’ll not like it but better there than the
Abyss, don’t you agree?”

“Don’t hurt him,” she said, hiking up her
chin a notch.

“I have no intention of hurting him. He
poses no threat to me.” He walked to the sofa and took a seat. “Sit, McKenzi. I
have much to say to you.”

“I’ll stand,” she said. She was digging her
fingers into the back of the chair for the room around her wasn’t exactly
steady.

“You will sit,” he said pleasantly and she
found herself in the chair with her hands gripping the arms.

“Stop doing that!” she said.

“Sorry,” he said. “Force of habit.” He
smiled apologetically. “I forget you are not accustomed to magic and that which
it entails.”

“Before today I thought magic and creatures
like you were a myth,” she said and could feel the blood pounding in her ears
as her heart raced.

“There is always some semblance of truth in
all myths,” he said.

“I am deeply sorry I frightened you, McKenzi,”
he told her. “I did not want the Supervisor to see my true form at that time
and the image of the
wendigo
is what he was expecting to see. I was
trying to reassure you with the wink but I realize now the act was misconstrued.
In retrospect, I should have wiped the memory of what you saw from your mind. I
didn’t at the time because it seemed a violation and I did not want to start
our relationship off on a bad note.”

“I wouldn’t have known that you had done
that, though, would I?” she asked.

“No, but I want honesty between us, McKenzi.
Trust and confidence. I never want to do anything to make you distrust or fear
me.”

“You scared the hell out of me,” she said,
tearing her eyes from him for his blatant handsomeness was unnerving. She’d
never actually seen a man in person who was so flawlessly beautiful to the eye.

“Again, I apologize. I am sorry I caused
you even a nanosecond of distress.”

“Please don’t do it again,” she asked. “My
heart can’t take that kind of stress.”

His brow furrowed. He tilted his head slightly
to one side then frowned. “There is a problem with you heart?”

“I have A-fib,” she said, and when his
frown deepened, she knew he had no idea what that was. “My heart has an extra
beat.”

His gaze dropped to her chest and she knew
without a doubt he was listening to her heart beating.

“I did not know such a thing was possible,”
he said then lifted his eyes to hers. “Is this dangerous for you?”

“It puts a strain on my heart and poses a
greater chance of stroke,” she said. “I take medicine—a blood thinner—for it
and I have had my heart shocked back into natural sinus rhythm a couple of
times.”

Disquiet settled on his chiseled features. “Does
that not hurt?”

“They put me asleep to do it and it only
lasts for a second or two. I don’t feel anything, although I’ve had a rash
where the pads were placed. The conductive gel and I don’t get along very well.”

“Can nothing permanent be done?” he
questioned.

“I can have a cardiac ablation and that’s probably
down the road for me,” she said then looked down at her lap. “Or have a
pacemaker installed.”

“Cardiac ablation?” he echoed.

“It’s a procedure where they go up through
an artery in my groin into my heart to destroy the area that is causing the
problem.”