Two Books in One - Ominous Love and Paradox - The Angels Are Here (28 page)

Chapter 18—Edge of Desire

The
Imperial City of Altair

Year: 1081 AD

Abaddon ran his palm slowly down Pandora’s silky thigh. She turned on her stomach and purred as he trailed his tongue expertly along the ripples of her vertebrae.

“The spinal cord, so fragile,” he murmured. “So easy to snap.”

She twisted back to face him. “Why so morbid, Abaddon, are you feeling bored?” She pouted as she pulled the white satin sheet up over her divine nakedness. “Maybe you should join Cerberus. He appears to be more content spending his time fighting this—”

“Hush,” Abaddon commanded, standing up suddenly, preparing to dress. Then he stood motionless for a moment. “Get dressed, get out!”

Pandora sat up and glared at him. The sheet fell into her lap and exposed her perfect breasts. A string of shimmering black pearls cascaded down her exquisite cleavage, falling just short of her ruby encrusted bellybutton. “Don’t you dare speak to me—”

“Out, now!” he roared, picking her clothing up off the floor in a blur and flinging it at her. “Theria is back here, and no time to dress, take your garments with you, just go.” He pulled her out of the bed. “Go, go, go!” he bellowed.

Pandora snatched her jewelry off the bedside table. “I don’t know why you are so afraid of that little bitch.”

“Get out now, goddamn you, woman!”

It wasn’t Theria, his sister, who Abaddon feared, but the Grigorian Lord. Lord Cerberus—Pandora’s husband—Abaddon’s brother.

Pandora looked at him with disdain, but refrained from uttering another word. With her arms laden with clothing—and completely naked—she swept defiantly from the chamber, slamming the heavy timber door loudly behind her.

Abaddon raked his fingers through his hair, then continued to dress. He was still holding his white shirt in his hand as the redhead pushed open another door and entered his chamber. “What, never heard of knocking, lost your manners during your visit to Earth,” he said, turning to face her. For a moment, he froze, and was lost completely for words. Then a devious smile twisted up the corners of his thin lips.

Theria stood there, her hands clasped firmly on her hips to accentuate her new womanly form. “For what possible reason, Abaddon?” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I knew you would sense my arrival.” She drifted around his chamber, scanning the bed, the floor, the logs in the fireplace crackling on the far wall. Two silver goblets of wine on the bedside table, candles. “It looks like I have interrupted you from an evening of pleasure, Abaddon.” She picked up a woman’s lacy camisole from the foot of the ornate four-poster bed and flung it at him. “Anyone I know?”

He studied her, watched her as she moved, dissecting her limb by delicate limb. His yellow eyes stopped on her firm breasts that were just visible through her black silky blouse. A golden cord, twisted tightly around her middle, emphasized her tiny waistline.

“My, my, haven’t we grown? Not a child anymore, Theria. Does this mean that you haven’t been feeding during your visit to Earth?  How long has it actually been?  I appear to have lost track of time?”

Theria sauntered over to him, her eyes taking in the quivering inked snake tattooed across his chest. “Nine hundred years,” she said. “Give or take.” She ran her fingers up along the vibrating snake as it coiled around his muscular body.
So evil and lifelike
, she mused,
just like you
.

He smiled. Knowing that she thought of him as evil pleased him immensely. “Time certainly does fly on Earth. It has only been….”

“A year, for you” she said, finishing the sentence for him.

He caught her hand in his as her fingers hesitated at his heart. He maneuvered her hand slowly but firmly down his rippling torso. “How old are you now, my little Theria, sixteen?”

“Seventeen,” she replied, snatching her hand away. “And you, of course, Abaddon, haven’t aged a day.”

“The advantages of staying in the Realm and being immortal my dear.” He circled her. “So, seventeen. Hmm, very nice.” He pushed her long red hair away from her face to expose her throat. “Sweet sixteen would have been nicer—sweeter.” He kissed her tenderly below her ear. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you in an evening of pleasure?  Call it a late birthday gift,” he said, glancing toward the unmade bed.

“A simple, ‘hello Theria, nice to see you again,’ would be more than adequate, my brother,” she said, circling his body now, running her hands across his back, down his arm. Knowing how much it would tease him, please him, arouse him. She glanced at his crotch. Yes, she could see, it definitely aroused him. She dug her long nails in his flesh and dragged them deep across his chest. One body mirrored the other, flowing back and forth, like a slow dance.

He let out a moan of pleasure from the stinging pain. Dark black-red blood blistered, then trickled down his chest before his injuries quickly vanished.

She trailed her fingertips through his warm blood then smeared the sticky liquid slowly across her lips. She could feel his pleasure vibrate through her hand and felt her body tingle in response. She touched the front of his trousers and ran a bloodied finger down the ivory buttons. “Hmmm, maybe another time, Abaddon, I have more important errands to take care of first. Tell me, where will I find our brother, Cerberus?”

He slapped her hand away and retreated across the room in a blur. “And there it is, Cerberus, always the mighty Cerberus. I wondered how long it would take before you got around to asking that question. “You have always been so predictable when it comes to your weakness for Cerberus,” he spat the words at her and shoved his arm into his shirtsleeve. His hand ripped through the delicate fabric in his fury. He pulled the shirt off angrily, crumpled it into a tight ball, held it to the torch flame on the wall, and flung the blazing ball of fire ferociously across the room at her.

Theria plucked the burning missile out of the air and extinguished the flames with a single breath then tossed it on the floor. “Really, brother, a bit childish, don’t you think?”

He glared at her. “Is this why you refrain from feeding, so that you can ‘age’ for him while you are on Earth? So that you can be a woman for Cerberus?  Cerberus has a woman, he has Pandora. He doesn’t want you, can’t you see that?”

“You say the word ‘age’ like it is a dirty word, brother. However, being a child for God knows how many generations was humiliating for me. And you will see. Our brother will tire of the human whore soon enough. Truth be told, he has never gotten over that peasant girl from the forest.”

“Oh, please, stop deluding yourself, Theria, it is beneath you. You are only embarrassing yourself by constantly throwing yourself at Cerberus’ feet. To have him, what, laugh at you, yet again. And the girl you speak of wasn’t just a peasant girl. She was a witch.”

Theria Shrugged. Peasant girl or witch, it made no difference to her. “Brother, I haven’t offended you, have I? It isn’t like you to show jealousy, or is it?  I’ve not seen this side of you before. I find it quite amusing.”

She chuckled, then proceeded to drape herself provocatively across his bed. Her floor length black skirt, slit high on her thigh, exposed her long silky legs. She drew her knees slowly apart, giving him a clear view.

“I know what you are trying to do, Theria.”

“I know you do,” she purred, taunting him even further. “Maybe some things do change, maybe leopards - or in this case - snakes, can change their spots. And maybe our brother will desire me now as much as you always have. Does that thought threaten you, Abaddon?  That Cerberus could desire me?” She twisted her hand in the gold cord from her waist and pushed it down between her thighs.

His greedy eyes took in every part of her.

“Yes, well, you certainly haven’t changed, have you, Theria? Still the little tease, lusting for just an ounce of attention from the mighty Lord Cerberus.” Abaddon sprang across the room and mounted her. He pinned her hands above her head as she squirmed beneath him. “When are you going to give up on that childish fantasy and let me, the brother who does have the desire to fulfill your dirty little cravings, please you?”

Theria struggled in his grasp. “Get off me, you lecherous fuc—”

“Theria. Language, please.” He released his grip on her a fraction. “Hmm, not as strong as you used to be, little one. You really should be devouring more mortal souls on Earth while you have the opportunity.

“Refraining is not only aging you, not that I’m complaining about that, you have certainly matured into a delightful creature,” he said, opening her blouse to expose her ivory breasts. “However, it is making you weak, and you know how much I appreciate a woman with a bit of fight in her.”

Theria bought her knee up swiftly, but Abaddon anticipated her move and leapt back effortlessly from her, laughing. “Let Cerberus dismiss you again. I tire from constantly caring about you.”

“Oh, please, Abaddon. Who is being delusional now?  You have only ever cared for yourself.” She pulled her blouse closed across her breasts and rose from the bed. She was not oblivious to the feelings that he had stirred in her. How her nipples had hardened with the brush of his breath. “My needs, food wise and sexual, have been more than adequately taken care of on Earth, I can assure you.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” he said, shaking his head, mocking her. “Your companion, Caleb, is it?  That devious little shit is far too selfish to know how to please a woman with desires as insatiable as yours, sister.”

“Caleb is not my only lover. I have taken many others over the years. Hybrids, humans…” she added smugly, her catlike yellow eyes mirroring his.

“Hybrids, ha, surely you jest. Since when have the half-breeds been able to satisfy your needs, Theria? I recall hearing stories about others having to clean up the messes left behind by you after your numerous hybrid escapades on Earth. You play too rough for the likes of them, my dear. They are inferior. You must try to remember that they do not have our strength, or our extraordinary healing powers. You are fortunate the hybrids didn’t hold those little mishaps of yours against you, and take revenge for their deaths.” He paused. “Not that they would dare, I suppose, after having witnessed your so called ‘accidents’.

“And the humans, okay, I get that. Really, I do.” He grabbed his crotch. “I can completely understand that temptation. So sweet, so fragile, so forbidden.” He shook his head fondly. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You are such a naughty girl, Theria,” he said, waging his finger. “Is it really any wonder why I adore you so?”

She smirked at him slyly and sauntered slowly toward him, taking his outstretched hand.

He pulled her to him and, for just a moment, he held her body firmly against his, breathing in her delectable scent. The human scent that lingered on her skin was still so potent. Then he backed away, tore at her blouse until it slid from her shoulders to the floor at her feet. “Now,” he whispered in her ear as he scooped her up and carried her over to his bed, “Let me give you your long overdue birthday gift.” He dropped her on the bed and began to unbutton his trousers. “Then I want you to tell me all about the girl, how close are you at capturing her.”

End of Book One.

Read excerpt from the first chapter from Book Two in the Paradox Series below.

Paradox—Progeny Of Innocence

Grace is not a little girl anymore!

And as a teenager, Grace’s visions have started to become more frequent, urgent, torturing her life further still. The answers she hopes to find in her visions only leave her asking more questions…  Who is Juliette?

Chapter 1—Deliver Us From Evil

For as a lamb is brought to slaughter, so she stands, this innocent, before the king.

Geoffrey Chaucer

Man of Law's Tale,
1386

The Imperial City Of Altair—The Royal Palace

Year—1081 AD

The beast, nothing more than a frail lamb, lay paralyzed and trembling on the glistening silver platter. It lay there, exposed, with nothing to accompany or protect.

“Really, you expect me to feed on this…this pathetic animal?” Abaddon snorted, standing with his arms folded tight across his puffed up chest. He stared down at the animal that had been placed before him. The tiny beady eye of the beast reflected the flames blazing hungrily in the massive stone fireplace. Black eyes rolled to-and-fro frantically in their orbit, searching Abaddon’s private dining chamber in an eager bid to procure a swift path to freedom. Regardless of the desperate animal’s resolve for escaping this predicament, the scales of justice did not offer mercy to this quandary. This creature was surely a lamb to the slaughter.

The young Mongol girl with her black inked forehead backed slowly away from the table with her hands in tight fists clasped behind her back. Her satiny skin glistened in the muted glow from the blazing torches hanging on the high stonewall behind her. Her head remained bowed in a show of fearful respect. 

“Apologies, Master,” she offered in an effort to pacify Abaddon’s mounting anger.

He flung an ornate dining chair effortlessly across the room and into the crackling fireplace with a quick flick of his wrist. Flames and a blast of glowing embers exploded across the room.

“This is outrageous; this is a meal fit for a peasant, and yet still you dare place it before me!”  Abaddon’s fist smashed down hard on the surface of the mahogany dining table, shattering a lead crystal decanter and a single goblet.  The blood red liquid, freed from its crystal constraints, made a slow passage down the deep grooves in the timber tabletop before congealed droplets pooled on the marble floor below.

The girl flinched. “Shall I remove the animal, Master?” she asked, and then quickly continued. “Perhaps you would prefer the taste of my flesh?” She pushed her long black flowing hair away from her shoulders, exposing her throat and barely covered breasts.

“Hmmm,” Abaddon murmured, considering her proposal. “What is your name?” he asked the girl, almost interested.

The blood vessel on her throat pulsated steadily beneath her flawless skin, summoning him closer. It was certainly an offer worthy of his consideration. And one that he thought about now with great consideration, considering the alternative.

He glanced at the animal. A fresh spasm of fear bent the animal’s head back at a grotesque angle. White froth foamed and dripped from the beast’s twisted mouth. Abaddon scowled. The girl certainly was offering him a worthier choice. The scales tipped…

“Temulun,” she answered softly, but with a hint of something resembling pride.

He studied her as one would a bug on a sliver of glass under a microscope, waiting for dissection.

“This would indeed be an honor for your family, if I were to accept this offer, would it not?” Abaddon said, circling Temulun, tracing his finger slowly down her slender throat, then further, beneath the meager brown fabric that only just managed to conceal her child-like breasts. He felt her heartbeat quicken beneath his fingertips and smiled. “Lead us not into temptation, dear girl, but deliver us from evil....” he murmured the words softly in her ear. “Are you evil, Temulun?” he asked admiring her tiny frame.

“No, Master,” she replied. “Your father honored our family once, many years ago, by taking my sister, Cheren, during the last Great War, when food had also become scarce. My family has been grateful for the opportunities that your father bestowed upon us.”

“Ahh yes, my father, the mighty Lord Grig. Before my beloved father’s unfortunate journey into the afterlife. Perhaps your sister was a curse, dear Temulun?  She was, after all, the last one to see my father alive. Was she not?” Abaddon feigned a remorseful sigh. Bitter memories still toyed with his memories, burdening him with disappointment and resentment.  He was acutely aware that his father had only ever had real affection for his brother, Cerberus, and Theria, his sister. The Gods would certainly not help him if anyone was ever to gain knowledge that it had been by his own hand, that his father had died and not by the hand of a subordinate half-breed bastard son of his father’s.

“I do believe that your brother…,” Temulun began.

Abaddon’s hand snapped up and squeezed Temulun’s mouth shut. “Do not ever speak of that half-breed bastard as being my brother. He is not worthy of that title. Do you understand me?” he said, shoving her away forcibly.

Temulun stumbled and fell backward hard against the massive dining table, but did not fall. The second goblet teetered precariously for a moment, then smashed to the floor at her feet. 

“Apologies, Master. I will not make the mistake again,” she said, wiping a trickle of warm blood from her lips.

He eyed her through narrowed yellow slits, but inwardly he was pleased. Pleased that she too thought that it had been the bastard son that had taken his father’s life. The truth about his murderous deed was indeed still safe.

“See that you don’t, otherwise I will have your head on a stick for the eagle,” Abaddon said, stalking away.

He swiped his hand through the air and watched as splintered pieces of timber from the shattered chair and broken shards of glass flew effortlessly into the massive fireplace, forcing a plume of flames and grey smoke to spew out into the room. “Yes, yes, yes, I remember your sister only too well. My father was most pleased with Cheren’s offering. She was a beauty, your sister, as indeed you are.” He glided toward her and lifted her chin abruptly with his finger, then leaned in and slowly snaked his tongue along the side of her face. Tasting her. He had other plans for this girl named Temulun, he decided. Death would not be her fate on this day. “Go, now,” he said waving her off suddenly with his hand. Dismissing her.

“And the beast, Master? Shall I-”

“Leave it,” he demanded. “Doors,” he commanded.

Two black clad Mongols with massive arms heaved the heavy timber doors open wide. Their long thin beards twisted and braided with ivory coloured beads made from human bones dangled below their chins.

Temulun hesitated for a moment, then scurried quickly from the room, past the leering guards, and praying that they had not overheard Abaddon’s rejection of her. She would not tell her family that she had been undesired by the Master. That he had preferred the flesh of the beast to her own. That humiliation she would keep to herself. Perhaps he would allow her to please him in other ways. His unquenchable desires were far from a secret in the Realm. She would have another opportunity, as her sister had, to complete her task. She was determined to fulfill her destiny and make her people proud.

Abaddon waited until the doors had completely closed behind the girl before he returned his gaze to the trembling beast in front of him. He studied the frenzied unblinking eyes as they watched him, then further down to where a beating heart pounded hard against a soft woolen chest. Snow white and pure as the driven snow on the peaks on mount An-nasr. He ran his hand along the beast, petting it, quieting it, soothing it. Then he swiftly pulled his hand away and crushed his taloned fist deep into the ribcage of the animal. He twisted his hand through broken bone and sinew effortlessly and separated thumping heart from beast. He watched it for a moment with morbid curiosity as it pulsated spasmodically in the palm of his bloodied hand. Then he curled his lips back and lunged into it hungrily, savoring it as one would a perfectly ripe blood plum. The animal’s blood was warm and bittersweet on his tongue; it would suffice, ward off his appetite, for now. However, it would not be long until his uncontrollable thirst for human blood and the gratification obtained from the mortal soul returned. The mortal soul, the forbidden fruit, the personification of immortality for his kind.

He swiped his bloodied hand across his chin. Droplets of blood marked the front of his white ruffled shirt. He tilted his head back and let a guttural howl burst forth from his lips. Far below, in the darkness outside, he heard others respond in like.

It was time, he decided, as he let the limp heart fall away from his yellowy, taloned fingers. The animal’s blood drenched woolly chest was still now. Only the flickering flames from the crackling fireplace was mirrored in the black bead of the eye, relaxed now by death. A pink tongue dripping with crimson, bloodied foam hung flaccidly from its open mouth.

Abaddon heaved himself at the massive timber doors and pushed them open wide, startling the two guards standing rigidly at the doorway, outside. He saw no reason to delay any longer. It had been centuries since he had left the Realm.

Pandora sashayed up the arched hall toward him, she was eager to resume their earlier encounter, before Theria’s unexpected interruption.

“Abaddon I-” she began, eyeing the bloodied fabric sticking to his chest.

“Not now,” he said, cutting her off and walking past her without concern, his actions solely driven by his unyielding desire for human blood, and of course, the incredible high attained from the mortal soul. The blood of the beast had only quickened his craving for more.

“Then I will,” Pandora continued.

“Go find someone else to entertain you,” Abaddon replied, irritated by the conversation. “I am sure there is somebody else floating around here somewhere that will pander to your incessant needs. Your husband perhaps?  That would be a change now, wouldn’t it,” he smiled, amused by his words. Then he began chanting as he strode away. “My dear beloved Father, which art now in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Yes, on earth indeed,” he chuckled. “For ever and ever…” Then Abaddon descended the curving staircase, five stairs at a time, until he reached the bottom, only seconds later.

Pandora turned away and snorted, “Idiot...” She walked swiftly toward the two men standing on either side of the massive doors and stood for a moment to appraise them. To the larger, taller man, she said, “Come, I have something for you to do.”  She ran his twisted beard across the palm of her hand, rolling the beads between her fingers, then she tightened her grip on the man’s long black braid and led him away.