Tempest of Vengeance Read online

  “It looks good on you,” I said softly, rubbing him back. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

  “I’m glad to be back,” he said, locking his dark eyes on mine. “And glad to see you.”

  He looked into my eyes, and I knew he was going to kiss me, just as I knew I wasn’t going to stop him.

  Chapter Four

  We heard a throat clear. Lash and I looked over to see Devlin standing in the doorway.

  Devlin moved past me to Lash, gripping his upper arm. “I’m glad you’re b—”

  Lash reached out and hugged Devlin close to him, much as he had hugged me. Devlin hugged him back hard, so hard that Lash let out a uncomfortable hiss.

  Devlin let him go after a minute had passed, and stepped back. “I’m glad to have you back,” he said, his voice emotional. “These past few weeks have been hell.”

  “I’m sorry about Danial.” There was real regret in Lash’s voice, and a trace of guilt.

  Devlin nodded, his golden eyes serious. “So am I. But we all warned him, Lash.”

  “So we did,” Lash said in a cold tone. He didn’t look at me, his eyes focused on Devlin.

  “We need to talk. Sar, will you excuse us?” Devlin said, his eyes locked on Lash.

  “Sure. Lash, I made you some cookies. They’re on the counter, help yourself.”

  Devlin rolled his eyes, but Lash shot me a happy look, and then he shut the door behind them.

  Leaving them to work out whatever was going on between them, I went back to my sewing, intending to work for another hour on my quilt. I’d gotten the rows sewed together, and was almost done pinning the whole front onto the batting and back of the quilt. Now for the hard part: sewing each square down to anchor it. It would’ve been quicker if I’d used batting the sewing machine could sew through, but I wanted this to be both a meaningful gift, and also a warm one. It was simply true that a quilt made with regular batting that a machine could sew wouldn’t be very warm, unless I used polar fleece squares. But sewing it by hand one square at a time was going to be a huge undertaking, and I couldn’t face the daunting task of beginning that this afternoon. Tomorrow would be soon enough.

  I finished up the pinning, and began thinking to myself as I tidied up my sewing room. It was early afternoon. Maybe Lash could be convinced to join me for dinner. I should also go find out where Venus was too, and check on her. I was worried, if I lost track of her for longer than a few hours, even knowing Serena, Rip, or Titus was with her twenty-four-seven, and she wasn’t allowed outside at all.

  I checked the ballroom first, and sure enough, Serena was there playing with Venus.

  “She’s winning at ‘Dark Tower’,” Serena said with a smile, and Venus preened happily. She looked so much like her father I had to laugh. Seeing how happy she was, I was glad I’d helped Theoron go through the toys and books that Elle and he no longer needed back in the late summer. At the time, I’d needed a diversion from my last days of pregnancy. And I’d thought to save them for Devon.

  But Devon wouldn’t be using any of them now. Devon was dead.

  I wiped away my instant tears, and told myself to think about the child I still had alive, who needed me. I went over and sat down beside her. “You want some dinner?” I said, giving her a kiss. “Are you hungry?”

  “I’m not stopping now,” she said loftily. “I’m winning!”

  I cut my eyes to Serena, hiding my smile.

  “We ate already,” Serena said gently. “T brought us some takeout when he saw me earlier, and he got extra for her. I tried some first, to make sure it was safe for her to eat.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that, knowing what she was referring to by saying T had come to see her, so I just gave her a smile, and said thanks. By the looks of the game, Serena would be here another two hours at least. I kissed Venus again, and told Serena that I was going to get some dinner, and to come find me if she needed to take a break.

  “I’m okay. Better than okay,” Serena said, and there was a note in her voice I wasn’t familiar with. Is she getting over Nick finally, and falling for T? I didn’t want to ask. I just smiled, and went back the way I’d come, past my sewing room. I stopped when I noticed that a light was still on inside, then gave a sigh of self-recrimination. As usual, I’d shut off the overhead light, and forgotten the smaller light by the door. I shut off the light, and closed the door behind me, and walked to the kitchen. But no one was there.

  I was a little hungry, but I didn’t really want to eat alone. I’d go see if I could find Lash, or even Dev. Dev wouldn’t eat with me, but he’d kept me company a lot these last weeks while I ate. And sometimes he’d gotten some more of those spells from Titus so he could join me for a little nibble of whatever I was eating.

  I walked upstairs, because I heard faint music. Rip was standing before Lash’s door. I looked at him oddly, as it looked like he was guarding it.

  “Hi, Sarelle,” Rip rumbled.

  “Is Lash in there?” I said, and he nodded. Then he moved aside.

  I deduced that Lash must be alone, and not with a woman, because otherwise he wouldn’t have let me in. I went in, and was enveloped in smoke. And it wasn’t cigarette smoke.

  Lash was in bed, on top of the covers, lying with a T shirt on, and his jeans, smoking a joint. His weapons were beside the bed, within reach. I looked over at him, but he took no notice of me. He must have been stoned; there was enough smoke here to make my eyes water. Tom Petty’s “You Don’t Know How It Feels” was playing on a state of the art stereo system. Lash had set it to repeat, and as I came in the song finished, and started again. Lash took another drag, and looked over at me.

  “What do you want?” he asked tersely, blowing out a smoke ring.

  I wanted to know if he smoked and did drugs regularly, because I was so shocked to see him like this, but I didn’t have time to say anything before he read my face.

  “The last time I smoked pot was 1969,” Lash said, his voice ill-tempered, taking another drag. “I just got out of jail, and my best friend, his lover, and my niece are still being hunted by the maniac who put me there, who is also now a powerful vampire. I am having some downtime tonight to relax, and I don’t want to hear any shit about it, Sar.”

  Well, when he put it like that, what could I say? “Drugs are bad”? I went over and sat next to him on the bed. “I wanted to see if you’re hungry, if you wanted to eat dinner with me.”

  Lash looked over at me, and his expression changed to one of mild affection. “In a little,” he said with detachment. “That would be nice. For a while I want to not feel anything, for it to be quiet and peaceful.”

  I didn’t see how it could be quiet with Petty singing loud enough to almost drown out our words, but maybe that was just me.

  Lash’s bathroom door opened, and I saw Devlin come out with some more joints, about ten. He’d been in there rolling them. To say I couldn’t believe it was too weak. He might as well have come out with a tutu on. I gave him an appalled look too, which he took wrongly, of course.

  “Sar, I need to smoke a lot to feel even the least effect,” Devlin said patiently, putting down the tray. “Now if you would smoke a little, and let me drink your blood, I could feel the effects much easier—”

  I rolled my eyes at him, and he grinned. He handed a joint to Lash, and Lash lit it off the end of his. Devlin took a long drag, and lay back beside Lash on the bed, sighing. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I sat there, watching them smoke.

  “Put on ‘It’s Good to Be King’,” Devlin said absently. “Sar does give a damn, and you know it.”

  Lash shot a nasty look at him, but he got up, and changed the CD track. Soon, the other song was playing and repeating. I sat there for a moment, and realized I was getting high just sitting there, from all the smoke.

  “Want some?” Devlin offered. “We don’t do this often, Sar. Like Lash said, every thirty years or so. Or after being held captive somewhere. Neither of us likes being caged.”

&nbs
p; “Fucking-A,” Lash said, taking another hit.

  “I can’t,” I said, looking over at him. “I’ll cough. But thanks.”

  “The age you are, you tried this before, unless you were a narc,” Lash said, looking at me searchingly. “Are you going to lie and say you didn’t inhale?”

  I laughed a little, and got a rush from the smoke I was drawing in. But a lot of that was because of the lack of oxygen in the room, or so I told myself. “I inhaled a little,” I said, giving him a smile. “But it never did anything for me, really. I didn’t see the point. I get a better rush from allergy decongestant, frankly.”

  “So you just didn’t like it,” Lash said, studying me. “Interesting.”

  “Uninteresting,” Devlin said languidly, taking another long drag. “I liked the nineteen-sixties better, when everyone did drugs, and I could enjoy them easily, with so many women offering free love—”

  “Now I know why you’re so temperamental,” I joked. “Too many acid trips.”

  Devlin laughed, and I knew he had to be a little high, that he wasn’t irritated. But who knew how many he’d smoked before I came in?

  “You forget how old we are,” Lash said absently. “I remember when cigarettes were first introduced. They were the cure all for everything, made you concentrate better, made you relax, made you sexy, made you healthy. Everyone had one in their hand for years, in the movies, everyone—”

  “Drugs were thought of the same way, in the early sixties,” Devlin said, nostalgia in his voice. “Men have always used them, for religious ceremonies though time. It’s only recently that everyone says they are bad.”

  “It’s the use of them when people are driving—” I began carefully.

  “Sar, either smoke with us or get out,” Lash said, taking another drag. “You’re detracting from my good time.”

  Prick. But it was true they weren’t hurting anyone except themselves...

  “Come lay by me, Sar,” Devlin said gently. “Lash is right, he needs us not to talk, to relax. And I don’t want you to leave really, and neither does he.”

  I debated leaving, but decided I wanted to stay. I wanted company. “Not a word about this to Theoron or Elle,” I said, crawling over to lay beside Devlin, who put his arm around me. Neither of them answered me, but I didn’t expect them to.

  I lay there for a while, none of us saying anything. Then I fell asleep.

  When I woke up, nothing had changed. Lash and Devlin were still smoking, but the pile of joints had diminished considerably. I looked at my watch, and saw it was only about seven. I’d only been out for thirty minutes or so. But I was feeling some effects now, from breathing in the smoke.

  Devlin finished his joint, and turned to me, pulling me close. “My sweet little queen,” he crooned. “Let me have just a little.”

  I knew I wasn’t getting out of this room with all the blood I’d come in with no matter what, so I tilted my head, baring my neck to him. I was thankful for the drug now. It would dull the pain a little.

  Devlin sank his fangs into me, and began groaning almost immediately, his body moving against mine. He held me passionately against him, his hands running over my body, caressing me as he swallowed me down. He stopped drinking from me in a few seconds, and in a moment, he had healed me. With a low long moan, he rolled over on his back.

  I looked over at him, watching him. Devlin seemed to be utterly happy. He lay there, his lips parted, his eyes closed, sighing over and over, his body moving very slowly, stretching and contracting languorously. I looked over Devlin’s form to Lash, locking eyes with him.

  “You did him in now,” Lash said, smiling widely. “He’s feeling ten times the effects I am, getting it through your blood.”

  The way he said it, I wondered if he wanted some of my blood. But I was still irritated with him over the remark about ruining his good time, and so I didn’t offer.

  “Good,” I said, reaching out to touch Devlin tenderly. “He’s been through hell with you and me, and Danial and everything else these last few weeks. He deserves to have a break from the pain of losing so much.”

  Lash finished his joint, and I was surprised to see it was the next to last one. Either he smoked fast, or I was higher than I thought I was, to have lost time and not realized it. He lit the last one, and took a drag. “I’m surprised you aren’t saying he brought it on himself,” Lash said, not looking at me. “Or that I did. That I deserved to be in jail, for all the people I’d killed.”

  I knew his question wasn’t offhand, as it appeared. He wanted to know if I judged him for what he did.

  “I know you’ve looked through the files, and seen some of what I’ve done. Even though there is nothing in there about what was done, I’m sure you can guess what ‘demolition’ really means—”

  “Yes,” I said as fast as I could, not wanting to hear any details.

  “I have two to do this week,” Lash said in a too-casual voice, still not looking at me. “How does it make you feel, knowing that about me?”

  “How does it make you feel, doing it?” I said back to him in that same too-casual voice, wishing he’d just cut the bullshit.

  “I don’t feel one way or the other about it. It’s just a job, one I have a lot of skill with,” Lash said with a sigh. “This is what I do, Sar, who I am. Who I’ve been. And who I need to be.”

  The silence stretched.Was he looking for my approval? What did he want me to say?

  “Maybe neither of you should’ve done some of what you did in your lives,” I said finally. “But I care about you both, and knowing what you and he do, and have done in the past doesn’t change that. It gives me pain to see Devlin crying over Danial, and to see you like I did, handcuffed, being held against your will behind glass and iron bars.”

  Lash didn’t look at me. “That’s why I didn’t want you to come back,” he said, taking a drag. “But Gina gave me the cookies, and meat dishes you cooked, when she came to see me every day—”

  Was this a dig at me, telling me he’d had her every day? I’d ignore it.

  “—I wanted to thank you for that,” Lash said quietly, his eyes still averted. “It was nice of you. It meant a lot, that you bothered to do it.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Lash looked over at me finally, considered something, and offered me the joint.

  “No thanks,” I said, giving him a smile. “I’m high enough already.”

  Lash leaned over Devlin and studied me. “You aren’t that high,” he said flatly, laying back. “But I need it more than you, so I’m glad not to share it.”

  I thought about telling him to smoke something stronger, to improve his personality, but decided it was not a good idea to push him in his current mood. Devlin was still sighing beside me, and moaning. I decided then and there I’d had enough. I got up very slowly, drawing Lash’s attention again. “I’m going to get something to eat. I’m starting to feel dizzy in here. Do you want me to make extra, so there’s some for you?”

  “Whatever is easiest,” Lash said, looking back up at the ceiling. “Don’t put yourself out for me. You’ve done that enough.”

  I nodded and left. Wouldn’t want to do that, no sir.

  Rip was still outside the door standing guard, and he reached out to steady me a little as I exited. He also shut the door behind me, as I was having trouble gripping the knob. “Sarelle, maybe you should stand here for a bit?” he rumbled, his voice a little concerned.

  “I’m going to go shower, and eat something,” I managed to reply. “Are you going to be here? Devlin’s wasted.”

  Rip nodded. “I have instructions to watch the door until they both are done, and able to walk.”

  Devlin, always thinking of everything. Or was that Danial? I couldn’t remember. “What’s the story with your name?” I said bluntly, looking up at Rip with my squinting, watering eyes.

  Rip looked at me and laughed. “Rip is for ‘Rest In Peace.’ Titus and I were summoned...well, got out of Hell about
seven hundred years ago. I was only out for a few days, and got sent back by a Catholic priest who told me I was going to burn in Hell. Like I hadn’t been burning for the last three hundred years? Demons can’t BE burned, we’re already flame temperature naturally—”

  This is interesting. I tried to concentrate.

  “—so, that seemed to set up some kind of pattern. Titus has been out for the last seven hundred years. He’s never been sent back to Hell once, not ever. But I’ve been sent back almost every decade at least. And I hate it, that my little brother’s always bailing me out. But I’m glad he does, because Hell sucks. And I’m glad that he’s been out this whole time, and not had to go back—”

  “What the hell does this have to do with your nickname?” I said bluntly.

  Rip looked at me and laughed. “Because when a priest says the banishing spell, or when a demon hunter catches you in a pentagram, or any faith based religion is used to send me back to Hell, the rite always ends with ‘Rest in Peace.’ And even when it doesn’t, these righteous assholes always feel compelled to say it to me, as if they are killing me. I’m a demon, I don’t fucking die! And as if anyone ever rests peacefully in Hell who is dead anyway—”

  I didn’t like where this was heading. I didn’t want to think about Hell, as sometimes lately I thought I might end up there. But the thought instantly gave my fogged mine clarity, something I was grateful for. “Thanks for telling me. And for protecting my family.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job,” Rip said, a single tear slipping down his face to evaporate on his skin before it fell. “Danial’s still unconscious.”

  I put my hand on his arm, and was instantly sweating. “It was his fault too, for insisting on going to his meetings. You gave your earthly body trying to save him. What more could you do?”

  “Nothing,” Rip admitted. “I did everything I could. But I still wish it hadn’t ended as it had.”

  “Theoron is okay, he’s all healed, and running his father’s business with Terian and—”