“You do not get to be annoyed,” she told me, her frown deepening. “You have been sexed to your very limits, and if you don’t like the fact that I, as a woman, can recover from such lovemaking faster than you, a mere man, then you can just pretend to be grateful that you have a Beloved as thoughtful and aerobically fit as to be able to withstand this sort of activity without actually dropping dead of pleasure.”
“I am the one who told you that you were going to kill me with your mouth,” I told her sternly. “I said it first, so you can’t now claim that it was so good that it almost did you in, too.”
She bit the end of my nose. “You were so good you almost did me in, Gray. You were like a titanium machine, a fabulously sexy, bitey, really, really talented machine whose touch makes me burn like a Roman candle.”
I allowed her words to placate me, closing my eyes as I drew little contented patterns on her delicious ass. “You helped a little. You may take a tiny portion of the credit.”
She pinched my nipple, giggling when I opened my eyes and yelped in indignation. “Now,” she said, stacking her hands and resting her chin on them, staring into my eyes. “We talk.”
I closed my eyes and snored. “I’m sleeping. Good night.”
“Oh, no, you’re not that tired. You can talk to me for a little bit.”
“Women talk after sex. Men recover.”
You’re immortal. You have nothing from which you need to recover.
I snored into her mind, but she was having none of it. “This is important, Gray. You know we’re going to have to talk about it.”
“Beloveds,” I said, sighing and capturing her legs between mine. “My father always told me to stay away from them.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Would this be the same father who killed your mother?”
I frowned. “She told you that?”
“Yes. Look, I can feel that you’re not happy about having to talk about this, but as I’ve said several times now, I’m a Guardian. I can help you with your problem, but I really do need to have all the facts before I decide what steps to take. Let’s start with why you feel you were responsible for your mother’s death. She says you weren’t.”
Pain clawed at my guts, a familiar pain that I was used to ignoring. “She’s wrong.”
“You killed her?” Noelle looked at me with a gaze that stripped away all of the protective layers I’d built up over the years.
“Not physically, but if I hadn’t left the Abbey, she wouldn’t have died.”
“Start at the beginning,” she demanded, pulling the blankets over us and shifting until she was comfortable atop me, her gaze steady on mine as her fingers gently stroked my collarbone.
I didn’t want to but knew that sooner or later, she’d breach the part of my mind where my secrets were hidden.
“The beginning goes back to before I was born. My father was the child of a Dark One and a mage. Such pairings are not common, but he was born with not only the nature of a Dark One but the drives of a mage. The Magisters’ Guild wanted nothing to do with him, however, because of his dark origins, so he turned to a more sinister source of power.”
“A demon lord,” Noelle said, her eyes bright with interest.
“Not just one but two, actually. Amaymon and Ariton were thick as thieves, and when my father contacted them, they found in him a kindred spirit, albeit one who resided in the mortal world. They were inseparable for a time, according to all accounts, raping and pillaging and murdering at will. In addition, my father developed a taste for turning mortals, something the Moravian Council was and is quite against, except in extreme circumstances.” It hurt to admit the truth, but I knew that she was correct about one thing: if we were to have a future together, she would have to know the worst.
“I’m sorry.” Her kisses along my jaw were as soft as feathers, as gentle as the warmth she wrapped around my aching heart. You’re not responsible for your father’s actions, though. Surely you must realize that.
It’s not quite that simple . . . A tapping noise had been slowly growing while I spoke, until it sounded right outside the door of my room. I cocked my head, listening for a moment. The tapping stopped, and the door opened, the thin, weak light from a pencil flashlight flickering around for a few seconds before Miles appeared in the doorway.
“Ah. Just so. Er . . . I appear to have been in a trance and lost my way. I’ll return to my bed now.”
The door closed softly behind him, and after a few seconds of silence, the tapping again sounded softly along the hallway.
“What on earth is he doing?” Noelle asked with a frown of puzzlement.
“Trying to locate the treasure.”
“There’s a treasure here?” she asked, curiosity gripping her.
“No, but he thinks there is. Nosty filled him full of some story he tells the tourists. Sooner or later, the mortal will find the hidden chamber behind the fireplace in the great hall and will realize that Nosty is unreliable as a source of historical information.”
“Secret room, hmm? Sounds fascinating.”
I smiled to myself as she began to plot a way to get me to tell her how to access the room.
“So your father was buddies with Amaymon and Ariton and raising hell, and you feel guilty about that for some reason. How does your mother’s death fit into this?”
The pain that always accompanied that thought was just as sharp now as it had ever been. I wondered if it would ever dull. “I was powerless to stop my father’s path of destruction. I tried repeatedly, we both did—my mother and I—but I think now that he must have been a little mad. He was certainly heartless. The last time I tried to stop him, he had Amaymon vitiate me.”
She stared at me, clearly aghast, her jaw slack in surprise. “Your dad did this to you?”
“Yes. So I left the area, went to France first, later Italy, always hiding from the demons Amaymon sent after me. It wasn’t until a year had passed that the truth reached me. The night I left, the night I was damned for all time . . .” I stopped, the memories choking me.
Noelle kissed me, her arms tight around me as she filled me with all her light and warmth and love, using it to battle the pain that was bound so tightly around me. My darling, you’re not alone anymore. Let me help you. Let me free you from the vitiation, at least.
I held her, wanting to drink in her essence, wanting her goodness to erase all the stains on my life, but knowing I could taint her with my darkness. “The night I left, my mother died. By her own hand.”
Noelle gasped and pulled back, her eyes filled with tears. “But . . . she said your father killed her.”
“He did, in a way. He had a falling out with Amaymon—their relationship had begun to deteriorate for some unknown reason—and he went on a rampage of destruction. He blamed me for all the trouble that he himself had brought upon his head. Since my presence seemed to make things worse, I left, running from my responsibilities rather than facing them as I should. I told myself that things would improve if I were not around to remind him of his failures, and caught up as I was in my own fight for survival, I left the region. My mother saw what I did not: the only way to end my father’s reign of terror was to kill him. I was gone, so there was no one left to do the job but her. He was taken by surprise. I’d tried to kill him twice before, so he knew to expect an attack from me, but she . . . she loved him, loved him with every morsel of her being. And she used that love to give her strength to stop him when I couldn’t, taking her own life as penance for such a mortal sin.”
Noelle clutched me again, her fury at my father surprising me, almost as much as the love she felt for me. It sank into my pores like water on parched earth, easing much of the pain that had for so long been a part of my life. She loved me! She loved me, and I would do whatever it took to keep her safe.
“None of that, now,” she said, pinching my shoulder. “Perhaps I love you. I’m not entirely sure. It could be just indigestion. But even if I do, it doesn’t mean that I’m sudden
ly fragile, or vulnerable, or anything different from what I was before. In fact, it’s just the opposite. As a Beloved, I won’t age and die. So you can just stop thinking those protect-me-at-all-costs sorts of thoughts and go back to being parched earth, because I’m not going to let you run away any longer.”
I sighed and shifted her off me, getting out of the bed to open the door. Johannes sat outside it, giving me a smug look.
I stared at him, the taste of Noelle’s sweet lips still on my tongue. “You have the worst timing.”
Johannes strolled past me, tail held high, observing Noelle with interest as she clutched the blankets to her chest. He started for her, but I swore and picked him up, marching him over to the bathroom despite his yowls of protest.
“Go ahead.” I snarled at him as I flung open the bathroom door. “You dig your claws into me, and you can spend the next few days locked in there.”
“Gray!” Noelle gasped, sliding out of bed, winding a blanket around herself as she ran over to where the cat was spitting and hissing, trying to bite and claw me. “I know your emotions are running high right now, but you shouldn’t take them out on an innocent cat.”
“Innocent cat?” I spun around, holding Johannes at arm’s length, ignoring the pain when his back claws found my arm. “You didn’t let me finish my story, Beloved. You didn’t let me tell you what happened to my father after my mother killed him.”
Her eyes were confused as she looked from the spitting, snarling ball of fur to me. “What . . . I assume he died.”
“No. My mother killed him. Mostly. Amaymon may have washed his hands of Johannes, but his good friend Ariton was there as well, and he swore to my mother that he would not rest until my father was returned in one form or other.”
Noelle’s mouth formed an O of surprise as she looked at the cat, now making a low, ugly growl, his teeth bared at her. “He’s . . . you mean the cat . . .”
“I have neglected to make the proper introductions, haven’t I? Beloved, meet Johannes Horal, my father.”
Chapter Seven
They came when Noelle was least expecting them.
Never, she said to Gray as Raleigh stopped filming Miles in order to gawk with an open mouth at the two men who had strolled into the great hall as if they owned the place. Never have I known a demon who had good timing.
Demon? Despite their distance, Noelle could feel Gray’s sudden spurt of fury. They are there?
Yes. “Hullo,” Noelle told the two demons.
Teresa, standing near enough to overhear, looked startled at the sight of the interlopers.
“Mortals,” one of the demons said with a dismissive sniff as it looked around the room.
Flee, Gray demanded, even as panic for her welfare flooded his anger. Run, Beloved. Do not, under any circumstance, attempt to deal with them yourself.
Grayson, I am a Guardian, she reassured him.
“The spirits of the Abbey are uneasy, and thus their emanations—what the devil is going on now?” Miles glared at the interruption. “Who are these people? Dammit, Teresa, this is the last straw! I will not have this meaningful, important work documenting the existence of the spirit world put in jeopardy by your insistence on hiring every man on the street you can find!”
You’re also my Beloved, and these demons are after me. It’s my duty and right to protect you from them. Now, get the hell out of there so I can protect you.
She sighed even as she made a quick assessment. Although there were a pair of them, they were fifth-class demons, far from harmless but easily handled, even in a situation where she would have to protect the film team from exposure to beings of an Otherworld nature.
“I asked them here,” she said quickly in response to Miles’s question, moving toward the demons, using her body to shield the fact that she was drawing a protection ward on herself. “They’re some . . . erm . . . people I work with.”
One of the demons, the shorter of the two, squinted at her. “It’s a Beloved,” the demon told its partner. “The Dark One must be here.”
“Did he have a Beloved?” the first demon asked. “He didn’t the last time we saw him, did he?”
Beloved?
“Could be he did and hid her from us,” the second answered.
“I don’t remember her.”
“Noelle, I’m sorry, but we can’t have your friends on set,” Teresa said, giving her an apologetic glance.
The short demon shrugged. “Who cares, so long as we find him?”
Noelle!
“Oh, look!” Noelle interrupted, staring with wide eyes at nothing and pointing down a narrow side hall. “It’s Nosty! Is that a box he’s holding? A bound box? The kind treasure is kept in?”
“Treasure?” Miles slid a suspicious, narrow-eyed look at the others in the room before laughing heartily. “Ha ha ha. Treasure! Such a clichéd notion, one that naturally doesn’t exist, but perhaps the spirit of the monk Nostredame has something importance to share with me. Er . . . the audience. I will go and ascertain just what that might be.”
I demand that you answer me, woman.
I love you, Gray.
Bah! I’m turning around right now and will be there in five minutes. You are not to speak to the demons.
“You’d better go with him,” Noelle suggested to Raleigh. “You might get Nosty on film this time.”
“Oooh, that’s true,” Teresa said, and with a meaningful nod toward the two demons heading toward Noelle, she ran after Raleigh.
Did you dump your father off at the vet?
Not yet, but I’m going to, just as soon as I get you to safety.
Really, Gray . . . Noelle spun around to face the demons just before they reached her, slapping them both with lightning-quick binding wards. I think we need to talk some more about this plan of yours to have your father neutered.
It’s the least I can do, he growled. I can’t kill him, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let him roam around on his own, causing who knows what sort of havoc. At least this way, I’ll have some satisfaction.
“A Guardian.” The taller demon snarled, its face contorting with rage. “The Beloved is a Guardian!”
Punitive gelding is never the answer, she pointed out with what she felt was perfect sense. “You are correct. Would you like to tell me your names so that we can do this quickly, or are you going to make me drag it out, causing you untold torment?”
The demons looked disconcerted for a moment, before the smaller one snarled an imprecation that was not only obscene in its nature but also physically impossible.
She sighed. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised, but if that’s the way you want it . . .”
Three minutes later, Teresa returned to the hall. “Noelle, I really think—oh.” She blinked and worried her lower lip at the sight that greeted her. “What . . . er . . . what is going on?”
“Oh, hullo again. Well, as it turns out, the two men who dropped by were troublemakers, and not my friends as I thought. They came here to disrupt the filming, but you needn’t worry. I have everything under control. One of them has already departed. I was just persuading this fellow to do the same.” Noelle smiled again, wondering if she should dare try a little mind push on Teresa to make her forget she’d ever seen the demon hanging there, cursing and all but frothing at the mouth in its anger. The problem was, she’d never been very good at making people do things, so she preferred to avoid such situations. “But I suppose this is one of those times,” she said softly with a sigh to herself.
“Troublemaker or not, don’t you think it’s a little harsh hanging him by his feet?” Teresa asked, stepping quickly to the side when the demon lashed out toward her.
Noelle moved between the demon and Teresa, glaring at it even as she quickly drew a second restraining ward on it. “Actually, I don’t, but there’s no way I’m going to be able to explain the whole situation to you, so instead, I think you should go check on Miles.”
“Explain what?”
“Nothin
g,” Noelle said, turning back to her friend with a calm smile and a concentrated mental push. “There’s nothing happening here. Go see if Miles needs you.”
“Miles?” Teresa looked confused.
“He may need something, and you know how he gets if you’re not dancing attendance on him.” Noelle gave her another mental push, praying that would do the job.
“I suppose I should.” Hesitantly, Teresa started to cross the hall.
Noelle wasted no time in spinning around to pin back the demon with a stern look, and she quickly spoke the words necessary to banish it back to its master.
The demon’s scream of frustration as it was returned to Abaddon echoed off the vaulted ceiling at the exact moment that Gray, with a spitting and furious Johannes in his arms, dashed into the hall. “Noelle!”
“Hullo,” she said, love swelling inside until it threatened to burst out of her. She was just so incredibly happy, she felt like singing a grand opera or something suitably epic.
“Are you all right?” Gray swore when Johannes sank his teeth deep into his hand before leaping from his arms and hightailing it for the door, which had been left open. Gray ignored the cat as he studied her face, his concern swamping her and making her feeling even happier.
“Of course I am. The you-know-whats are gone.” Noelle nodded toward Teresa, who was standing with a confused look on her face in the hallway that led off the main room.
“A temporary situation, since they’ll simply tell Amaymon where I am.” Gray’s expression was as flinty as . . . well, flint. “We’ll have to leave immediately.”
“Do I smell demon smoke?” Nostredame hove into view, looking around the room before his gaze settled on Gray. “Ah. That would explain the smoke. Is everything all right?”