Kingdom of the Wicked Page 24
I huddled as far away from the demon as possible, trying to crawl along the wall. It was moving too quickly, and I couldn’t chance getting hit with its tail.
It wouldn’t be long before it worked the grit from its eyes. The Viperidae’s powerful body crashed into the tunnel on the right, and I didn’t waste my only opportunity for escape. I shot past it, heart hammering, praying it didn’t swing back around and clip me. I took my first step into the tunnel I’d used to get here when it happened.
A fang the size of a sword pierced the fleshy part on my lower back. The bite was lightning fast—over and done with before I could scream. I stopped moving, my whole body prickled and went ice cold. I knew enough of herbal folk medicine to know the signs of shock. Major trauma sometimes took a few seconds to catch up to nerve receptors in the brain. Just as I’d thought it, the pain hit me a beat later. Hot, searing, all-consuming.
I dropped to the ground and turned in time to see the Viperidae closing in for the kill. I rolled a second before it tore out my throat. The sudden movement made my wound split wider and throb. Blood splattered around me, and I did my best to not focus on the possibility that the demon had already struck a death blow. It came for me again, and this time, I let it get close enough to see my reflection in its slitted eyes. I shoved the screaming pain aside, heart pounding. I waited . . . waited . . . it lowered its head, ready to sink its fangs—
I struck hard and fast, shoving Vittoria’s amulet into one of its eyes. Warm liquid gushed over my hands, as the Viperidae shrieked one last time. I shoved harder, until I was almost certain I’d pierced its brain.
I didn’t wait to see if it was dead or badly injured—I turned and fled.
For a little while, anyway. The venom had other plans for me.
Twenty-One
Everything spun wildly—like the few times I’d mistakenly had too much wine with Claudia and Vittoria. I staggered back down the tunnel and collapsed under the grate I’d snuck in through. Escape was so close, yet impossibly far. I needed to gather my strength and drag myself up; and vowed to do just that . . .
. . . once my head stopped spinning and the nausea passed.
A soft thud landed near me, followed by a series of exquisitely foul curses. If I wasn’t convinced opening my mouth would bring on the vomit I was barely suppressing, I’d have laughed over the colorful litany. I couldn’t exactly remember his name at the moment, but I recalled he wasn’t normally prone to such outbursts. For some reason, the situation struck me as funny when it was anything but.
My head suddenly ached—the pain sharp and vicious. It felt like a thousand needles were pricking my brain simultaneously. I groaned, which only made it worse.
“Where are you hurt?” His voice was too loud. I batted him away, but he was an annoyingly persistent devil. “Focus! Did it bite you, witch?”
“Stop.”
Fingers probed my skull, my throat, then hesitated at my neckline. Somehow I’d managed to loop the cornicello over my head. He rolled me onto my side, and I nearly passed out from the next wave of agony. He clearly didn’t care about my pain and suffering. Maybe he enjoyed it. I vaguely recalled hating him. Now I knew why.
He paused for less than a heartbeat, then the sound of fabric tearing was followed by a blast of ice down my back. Air battered against my ripped flesh, the pain absolutely blinding in its fury. I think I might have screamed.
“Shit.”
Two solid arms hoisted me up, caging me against a body that had to be made of steel, not muscle and bone. We started moving swiftly, his steps fluid and graceful. Which was a good thing—if he bounced while running, I’d throw up all over him. I didn’t think he’d like that.
Wind whipped at my hair—we were traveling at an impossible speed through city streets. I made the mistake of looking at buildings flashing by once, and instantly regretted it. I nestled against his warm chest and squeezed my eyes shut. Pain was all I knew.
“We’re almost there.”
My teeth chattered uncontrollably. I had no idea where there was, but hoped it had blankets and a fire. A coldness was spreading through me, all-consuming and terrible. I had the worst feeling I’d never know the comfort of warmth again. Which was strange, since I thought the day had been especially hot. Icy numbness slowly spread up my legs. A door clattered open, then slammed shut. It felt like we ran up a set of stairs and then I was laid onto a soft mattress.
Shouts rang out around me. Muffled voices were hard to distinguish. Water splashing into a basin overtook my senses, followed by the unmistakable scent of smoke. I thrashed. Somewhere, deep in my memory, I knew what the smoke meant. Danger.
“Don’t worry.” Another voice. Male. Unfamiliar. “He knows what to do and will be back soon.” Blankets tucked me in so tightly, I could barely breathe. I must have gasped; warm hands were on my forehead. “Shhh. Don’t struggle. It makes the venom spread faster.”
Time narrowed into the smallest fraction of itself. I knew nothing but random seconds, and unrelenting agony. My heartbeat was so loud, it made my head pound. Moments passed. Pain persisted. Then a crackling fire, the scent of smoke, and he was back, prying my eyes open.
“I’ll fix this. But you have to grant me permission. Do you?”
I tried to nod, but could barely move. He crouched beside me, placed his hands on either side of my head, and repeated the question. He must have felt the nearly imperceptible movement this time—before the next wave of pain struck, he was a blur of action.
“Watch the perimeter and do not interrupt us, no matter what,” he barked at someone I couldn’t see. Panic set in again. Perimeter? Was I in Hell? He scooped me up, a door shut behind us, and his voice turned noticeably gentler. “I need to get us both into the water, all right?”
I tried to say yes, but the numbness spread to my throat. I think he saw the answer in my face anyway. It sounded like he whispered, “Live long enough to hate me for this.”
The next thing I felt was warmth—like I was floating on a cloud near the sun. Words in a language I didn’t understand were spoken at my ear. Lips brushed against my skin, one of the last pleasant sensations I experienced before darkness closed in.
“Drink.”
I wanted to, more than anything, but couldn’t. He tilted my head back, parted my lips and poured nectar down my throat. I tried thrashing against the cloying taste of it, so sweet and thick that I almost choked, but I’d long since lost the ability to move on my own.
A tear slipped down my cheek and strong fingers brushed it away. Water splashed. A different kind of warmth encompassed me. Soft, gentle lips met mine. It was a whisper, a promise, an unbreakable vow. It shattered the pain and felt like home. I think I wanted more, but was denied. He quietly chanted, his words foreign.
Brilliant light flashed and then my true hell began.
A soft sound roused me from the worst dream I’d ever had. I cracked an eye and kept my breathing deep and even. I was soaking in a tub. For a second, I had no idea how I’d gotten here.
Then flashes came to me. I couldn’t tell if they were dreams or memories.
A metallic snake inked onto an arm banded around my body—not in possession, but solidarity. Like Wrath had followed me into my nightmare, battled Death, and dragged me out.
At some point, I thought his tongue flicked over my jugular, tracing an invisible S along my skin. I remembered the feeling of every nerve ending, every molecule sizzling, instantly attuned to where I wanted those lips to move next. I swore I still felt heat lingering from the brief contact. I was surprised that I didn’t hate it.
I squeezed my eyes shut as more images resurfaced. A giant serpent. A deadly fight. Fangs. Blood. My grandmother’s neck, slashed. Drinking something thicker than honey and so saccharine, I had to gag it down. Strange words spoken fervently. A kiss followed by a blinding spark.
Then the nightmares began.
Demons screeching, claws scraping, an unfamiliar woman with midnight eyes and fire in her soul, cursing me. A city of fire and ice. An obsidian throne room. A crown forged of flames and smoke. Enormous gates crafted from bone and leathery wings, bursting open. Betrayal.
I shoved the dream from my mind and focused on my surroundings, then promptly wished I hadn’t. I vaguely recalled the sensation of warm, wet-slicked skin against mine. Muscular legs. The feeling of complete safety. I didn’t know if that was real or imagined, either.
I closed my eyes again and silently counted until my pulse slowed. It took a second, but I realized my wound was completely healed.
Wrath had worked an enormously powerful spell. I felt recharged, almost buzzing with excess energy. I’d been an empty vessel before being poured beyond capacity with life. I wanted to jump up and dance, or fight, or make love. Maybe all at once.
To avoid thinking about forbidden kisses while I was naked, I concentrated on the room. I was in a bathing chamber that was ornate yet shabby. The chipped marble tub was beautiful, white with veins of gold. Mosaic tiles covered the walls, depicting winged creatures and fields of flowers.
A slight rustle from the corner to my left caught my attention. Wrath stood with his back to me, as if offering a bit of privacy. Rivulets dripped off the planes of his tanned upper body. His very toned and naked upper body. Goddess above, he needed to put a shirt on. Immediately.
Until he did, I stole a peek at the ink I’d seen in the cave the first night I’d summoned him. Shimmering gold and charcoal tattoos crossed from shoulder to shoulder. They appeared to be lines of Latin, but I was too far away to be sure. I swallowed hard and averted my focus. It looked like he’d gotten out of the tub moments before I’d awakened. Those foggy bits from last night were definitely memories then, not dreams. My face heated. He probably already figured out I was awake and was waiting for me to say something. This was . . . painfully awkward.
Not wanting to delay the inevitable, I cleared my throat. He rotated until we were face-to-face. Tousled damp hair made him appear almost human, but the energy radiating around him shattered the illusion. It was like soaking in a tub while lightning struck perilously close by. He was alert and looked like he had been for quite some time. It was strange, seeing him outside of the summoning circle. Stranger still that he’d saved me. I wasn’t sure what that meant, if anything. I settled against the side of the tub and took a deep breath.