Moonlight and Diamonds & The Vampire's Fall (38 page)

Chapter 18

Z
en got out of the shower first and called out that she was going to make breakfast for him today. Or maybe she'd said she was going to get the things ready for him to make breakfast. Blade wasn't sure she had the talent for cooking. Did she remember how? Had she ever cooked?

He turned off the shower. Probably better not to linger in case she did attempt to master the stove. Grabbing a towel, he patted his hair and stepped onto the tiled floor.

Immense relief had relaxed his very being after telling Zen his history with demons. With one demon in particular. He could never forgive himself for biting Octavia. He blamed his vampire for the bite and he blamed his faery for delivering the deadly poison. But really? He was responsible for himself, all of himself. That included vampire and faery. And if one got out of line, it was his responsibility to kick it back in line.

Thing was, the vampire was so strong. Yet it was his faery that craved the demon blood. He had to keep his winged desires in check. That was easy enough. He wasn't sure he'd ever fall so deeply again that he'd feel compelled to mate with a woman and bite her. And until Zen knew what she was he could have sex with her, befriend her—hell, he could even fall in love. But that didn't have to mean forever.

Fall in love? No. He'd meant it when he'd offered his brother condolences after he'd admitted to being in love with his wife. Love was...tough.

But since when had he resisted a challenge?

Smirking and shaking his head, he finished drying off. In the bedroom he slipped on jeans. Raking his fingers through his hair was sufficient. From the smell that wafted in from the kitchen something was up.

A cloud of smoke hung over the stove. Blade hustled by a fleeing Oogie and commandeered the spatula from Zen.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn't think eggs could burn.”

“It's okay. I can rescue them. Why don't you get the juice and toast on the table?”

“How did you become such a master chef?” she asked as she plopped two pieces of bread into the toaster. She wore one of his longer T-shirts and nothing else. The neckline spilled over one shoulder, attracting his eye. And his kiss. She met his gaze after that kiss and he winked at her.

“Cooking breakfast hardly qualifies me as a master. My mom used to let us help her in the kitchen when we were little. We all picked up a talent. I think by the time we were in our teens Mom had trained us so well we could cook the entire day's meals and she didn't have to lift a finger.”

“Smart mom. You said she is faery?”

“Yes, and so is my brother Kelyn.”

“When you shifted last night behind the theater, besides the obvious wings, your body changed subtly.”

“That was my faery shape. Same me, just...bulkier.”

“That's interesting. I would expect a faery to be slender and, well, fae.”

“They come in all shape and sizes. Just like humans.”

She hugged him around the waist and kissed his biceps. He didn't mind the closeness. She liked closeness. He could live with that. And she smelled so good, despite the lingering burn scent. Freshly showered and like a spring blossom.

“Can you bring your wings out without shifting?” she asked.

“I can, but rarely do.”

“Because it's a sex thing?”

He chuckled. “You really like sex, don't you?”

“I don't understand why anyone wouldn't like it. Anything wrong with wanting to learn all I can about it?” she asked playfully as her fingers slipped beneath his “Do you want to eat or have sex?”

Her bright eyes flashed up at him. “Do you really have to ask?”

He turned off the burner, setting the eggs, which were a lost cause, aside. He swung around, catching Zen at the waist and set her down on the counter beside the sink. She pulled off the T-shirt, rendering her naked, and he kissed her breasts.

“Mmm, that's one of my favorites,” she said. “You can do that as much as you like.” She wrapped her legs about his bare torso.

“Is it always this awesome when people have sex?” she asked, gliding her fingers down his wet hair. “Why aren't people constantly doing this? I mean, who has time to eat or sleep when you can kiss and touch and, oh...I like that.”

He suckled her nipple and teased at the skin with the tip of his fang. It was a brief glide of tooth over flesh, nothing promising, because he couldn't promise the bite. Much as he desired it. Her blood had been black and ichor laced last night. But there was no guarantee some angel blood did not linger.

“I'll show you what I'd prefer over eggs for breakfast,” he whispered in her ear, then glided down to part her legs and kiss her copper thatch.

Zen chirped a surprised sound, then settled into the feeling. She lay back across the counter and allowed him to put her legs over his shoulders. Eventually her head tilted into the sink, so he moved her down onto the floor.

Half an hour later, he picked her up from the floor and carried her into the bedroom so they could finally get dressed.

“Why don't I give you a ride into town,” he suggested. “You can pick up your car and pay off the room bill.”

“Why? Don't I need the room anymore?”

He shrugged. “If you want to, you can stay here for a while. I'll have a talk with Oogie. Let him know you're cool.”

“I'd like that. I can do some more shopping while in town, as well. I really enjoy shopping.”

“I'll drop you off, then we'll meet later at Panera for the breakfast we ignored earlier. Deal?”

“Deal.”

* * *

After he'd dropped Zen off at the inn, Blade drove into the filling station and topped off the gas tank. Then he stopped in at the local hardware store. Stryke had emailed a list of tools for him to pick up. Though they had hired a construction firm to build the compound, Stryke was also working on a porch for the main house. Said Blyss liked to sit out there on a swinging bench in the summer. And he wanted a place for the baby to play without toddling too far into the yard.

Stryke would probably be an overprotective father. Blade thought it would be wiser to let the infant run. Unless Stryke carried some latent faery or vampire in him, his child would be born werewolf. Its instincts would be to run free.

But what did he know about child rearing?

Blade wondered if a half-breed man could ever have a child with a woman of unknown nature. Then he caught himself and shook his head at such erratic thoughts. Children were not for him. He could barely get the love thing right.

Hadn't he fallen in love too quickly with the demoness Octavia? He didn't want to analyze it. He'd spent far too much time lamenting that decision in the days and weeks following her death.

Right now, he felt as though life nudged him to move forward. To set his past aside, and—though it could never be forgotten—forge a new future. The feeling was light, and as soon as he recognized it, he again shook his head.

Not in the cards for this unforgivable bastard.

Especially an unforgivable bastard who was currently on a crusade to assassinate every living demon he laid eyes on—as well as the undead ones. Yeah, there were breeds that were classified as undead.

Strolling past a coffee shop, he paused. The rich scent of dark roast curled into his nostrils and drew him in. He ordered a venti black, no cream, and then headed around the corner, down the alleyway. He had parked three blocks down from the hardware store. The town was small, which meant little to no parking, and it was Blade's habit to choose an out-of-the-way spot. One never knew when a demon—or angel—might leap out from nowhere. Best to contain any encounters and keep them from public eyesight as much as possible.

Striding through a shadow cast by a church steeple—he wasn't baptized, so holy objects and images had no power over him—Blade was suddenly ripped from his strides. His back slammed against a brick wall. Coffee splattered the concrete.

He reacted by swinging a punch toward the blond man's narrow face, but his fist stopped an inch from nose. Impact did not happen, and yet his knuckles crunched as if he'd just punched a steel wall.

The man dropped him and stepped back. Splaying his fingers up near his face revealed the dark markings on his skin. “Runes to ward me against whatever the hell you are,
hic niger est
.”

“Who are you?” Blade asked of the creature who'd said he had a dark heart.

“Ah? You don't care
what
I am?”

“You're demon.” Blade spat at the ground near the man's booted feet. He was as tall as he but slim, and his short blond hair was slicked back tightly against his scalp, the severe coif revealing the nubs of horns above each ear. “You've got two seconds before I kill you.”

“Give it a go. Unlike the other demons you've slain thus far, I have come to this realm protected.”

Blade afforded a more studied look over the runes marked in crossed black lines all over the demon's fingers, hands and neck. Below his ears ran a trail of the marks, as well. The demon's eyes flickered red, then resumed a fathomless black iris.

The demon offered his hand to shake. “Kesabel, Lord of the Casipheans. And you are Blade Saint-Pierre.”

“What do you want?” Blade asked, ignoring the offer to shake.

Again the demon gripped him by the throat and slammed him to the wall. Blade's feet momentarily left the ground. He aimed a fist for the demon's gut but his knuckles crunched against an invisible steel barrier.

“Quit killing us,” the demon hissed. “We are not the bad guys.”

“Yeah? Then, why are you trying to kill Zen?”

“Is that what she told you?”

“She didn't have to tell me anything. I saw the trio you sent after her.”

“They were sent to persuade her toward the portal. For some reason she has been able to resist our efforts. A major fuckup in the plan, let me tell you.”

“What plan? To murder an innocent woman?”

The demon dropped Blade's throat. “We're on her side.” Spreading out his arms, he declared royally, “She is our queen.”

Chapter 19

B
lade considered asking the demon to repeat himself. But there was no need. His hearing was excellent.

Zen was their
queen
? Whose queen? If she was any kind of paranormal breed, she was an angel. Though, there was the case of her blue blood turning black. Which was no longer blue but now black and then clear.

“Yes, I can see your confusion,” the demon Kesabel offered. He stabbed the air. “Allow me to explain how the fallen angel you've hooked up with was supposed to fall all the way to Daemonia, yet, for some reason, did not.”

“You're lying.”

The demon spread his arms out. “I have no reason to.”

“It is the demonic nature to speak mistruths. Always. You are trying to get me on your side so you can get your hands on Zen.”

“I do want to get my hands on her, but I need her alive. The Casiphean queen must be crowned, and that can only occur in Daemonia.”

“Casiphean?” Blade had heard the breed name, but that was all. He'd spent more time lamenting his involvement with the
mimicus
to bother learning about any other in the vast profusion of demonic breeds.

Kesabel nodded. “You don't know much about demons, do you?”

“I know I don't like you.”

“Yes, well, I am familiar with your troubles regarding a denizen of
mimicus
. Tough bit of luck, eh?”

The scars on Blade's back twinged. “You could say that.”

“And now it seems you've a death wish for all our species.”

“You could say that, too.”

“Isn't really fair, is it? To make all suffer for the sins of so few?”

The demon had no right to place himself above others when it concerned sin. “I thought we were talking about Zen. She is a fallen angel. I'm sure of it. She has her halo.”

“Yes, you've guessed correctly about her. Fallen from Above. Yet she was supposed to fall to Daemonia. Why she stopped here on the mortal realm is beyond me. It was destined that she would become our queen. She should have been on board with the plan before falling. All she had to do was—” the demon spread out his arms “—spread her wings and let gravity do the rest.”

“She landed here in Tangle Lake,” Blade said.

Maybe. If she'd walked the world, as he suspected, then she could have landed anywhere. Tangle Lake may have just been a spot on her route to consume knowledge.

He wasn't trying to fill in details for the demon. He was attempting to piece this together for himself. He didn't trust the demon Kesabel as far as he could spit, but he'd listen. Until the urge struck to slice him in two.

“If you're so keen on welcoming her into your folds as queen,” Blade said, “then, why the death threats?”

“Oh, we haven't laid a hand on her. Think about it.”

He wasn't going to—but, really? The demons in the house hadn't gone near Zen. Because he had stopped them before they could leave the house. The demons in the club hadn't touched her, either. They had tried to lure her into the portal, though. Beyond that, it had only been
angels
who had attempted to physically harm Zen.

“You were the one who thought it would be a good idea to slay my minions in the house by the field,” Kesabel said. “And you and that damned werewolf brother of yours thought it would be fun to slay an entire club filled with my kind. You get some kind of sexual thrill from that, buddy? Taking the lives of innocents?”

Demons were never innocent. But Blade wouldn't give the man the challenge of a protest.

“Right. You're not going to speak when you know I'm in the right,” Kesabel said. “You, vampire, like the taste of demon blood. That is known.”

Blade flinched at that statement. So his faery half craved demon blood. But it was known? Of course, Sim had said as much to him, as well. What was it with all the riffraff knowing so much about him and what it was that got him off?

“The only time I'm aware that Zenia has ever been in danger is when those damned angels landed,” Kesabel provided. “They want to take her out before we can lure her to Daemonia. Or so it appears. Those holier-than-thou assholes are possessive. Even though she's no longer of their lofty caliber, they'd rather kill her than see we Casipheans gain our queen.”

“
Lure
her to Daemonia?”

“Yes. You see, it's not as if we can tie her up and take her there. She has to sit on the throne voluntarily. Thus, the portal in the club. It's a straight shot to Daemonia from there. If you'll just allow her to return to the nightclub, that'll take care of matters nicely.”

That was going to happen never. Unless Zen wanted to be queen. The woman did have amnesia.

“What if she doesn't want to be your queen?”

“Oh, she does. That's the very reason she fell.”

“But she doesn't remember that.”

“She—what?”

“So you don't know everything.” Blade crossed his arms and spread his feet for a commanding stance. “Zen has amnesia. She doesn't know who or what she was or where she came from. You might believe she's your queen, but she doesn't know that.”

“Well, that's a bit of tough balls.” The demon's temples flared and the tips of the horn nubs briefly glowed red. “I sense we won't have any luck luring her to the throne until she gets her memory back.”

“Why would you crown an angel your queen anyway?”

“She is no longer angel. The moment she landed on earth her angelic nature vaporized, so to speak. Though I've never heard of an angel losing their memory from landing in the mortal realm. Most arrive without memory of their angelic rank, but they walk the world to gain knowledge so they can insinuate into this realm.”

“She was hit by a bus.”

“Is that so?” Kesabel noticeably shuddered. “So she's in memory limbo.”

“So is Zen demon?” Blade had to ask.

“She'll not become completely demon until she takes the throne.”

Blade hissed. Hell, she was demon. Or would be soon enough.

And he had sworn to slay any demon that crossed his path. This was not good. Worse than not good. It sucked fifty ways to Beneath. But just because the demon talked a feasible story didn't mean he was speaking the truth.

“But until that occurs,” Kesabel continued, “she is a sort of nothing, if you will. Much closer to faery, actually, than angel or demon. That's what happens when an angel doesn't quite make it to demon. They become sidhe. Curse those bastard angels! There is a time frame we are working with. Not sure how long it'll require for her faery to completely settle in. I'm pleased you let me in on the amnesia issue, despite the new challenge this presents.”

Shit. No points for helping the enemy.

“So,” Kesabel said, “I'll be needing you to, A, stop slaying my Casiphean denizen. Our race is dying out. It's why we need the queen in the first place, to repopulate our numbers. And, B, take the girl out for a night of dancing at the club and then ditch her and leave her to bigger and better things.”

Repopulate their numbers? Blade didn't want to consider how that one would go down. No matter what Zen remembered, or wanted to do, he could not allow her to be used in such a manner.

Fingers curling into fists at his sides, Blade said, “How about C? None of the above.”

The demon thrust Blade against the wall with but a flick of his wrist. “Don't make me call in the big guns, vampire.”

Blade smirked. He liked a challenge. “The bigger the better. Now fuck off. And stay away from Zen. If I see one of you sulfurheads near her, I will slay you.”

The demon exhaled heavily and shook his head. “You don't want this war, Saint-Pierre. And yet, it seems you invite trouble around every corner. Perhaps it is your nature. You cannot exist without strife?”

He'd love to live a peaceful life without war. Or demons.

“Bring it,” Blade muttered. He wandered off, leaving the demon lurking in the shadows.

* * *

“Help!”

Zen looked up from the coffee she was stirring. Outside the café window a woman whose arms were loaded with two toddlers was trying to catch the handle of a stroller, in which lay a baby, as it rolled toward the street. A big black car veered near the curb.

Dashing out from the table and through the café doors, Zen yelled at the driver, but knew that he wouldn't hear her through the car's rolled-up windows. She dodged the mother who was crying and—why didn't she set the kids down?

Without thinking Zen lunged toward the stroller. Its front wheels rolled off the curb. The stroller tilted forward. The sun glinted on the car's chrome bumper, but a foot away from the infant carrier.

She felt the warm body under her palm and curled her fingers about an arm or leg, grasping more baby with her other hand, and snatched it just as the bumper hit the stroller and sent it soaring through the air.

The mother screamed.

Zen tilted her body backward, landing on the concrete sidewalk, the infant clutched against her chest. She fell to her back and pulled up her legs from the street.

“She's got the baby!” someone said.

Above her, two faces appeared. Zen handed up the infant and it was delivered to the distraught mother. Heartbeats thundered. Adrenaline raced. And in the moment the sun flickered in her eyes, Zen's memory burst with a familiar reckoning.

You came here with a purpose. You are from Above
.

And she knew what she was.

A hand lifted her by the arm and asked if she was all right. Zen nodded. “Yes, okay.” She walked away, even as someone followed her, asking her to stay because she was a hero.

“Anyone would have done it,” she muttered and quickened her steps away from the growing crowd around the mother and her children.

“I...” She pressed fingers to her temples. “I remember.”