cious time with her."
Nuit gulped, unable to fathom what that experience might have been.
"No... do not try to comprehend the incomprehensible," the Dark One murmured, his voice soon becoming more dis tant. "Watch her for me and report all to me. Betray me and I will not be so lenient in the future. Fail me and I shall re lease eons of frustration upon your miserable carcass. I know she has a plan with my heir, but I want that monitored so that it does not become her heir alone. She is devious."
"I will be your everything and shall not fail."
"Indeed." Another hot, fear-generating breath filled the darkness and then wall torches lit.
"Repair him."
Quiet surrounded Nuit and for a while he kept his cheek flattened to the dirt. Before long he could see the hem of scythe-bearers' robes. One stood beside him with a weapon held high, and the moment Nuit looked up, the demons smiled and brought the blade down midthigh, cutting half of the damaged stump off above where the Neteru blade had taken his leg.
A roar of anguish left him limp, and just when he thought he could bear no more, hungry Harpies raced to the new wound site and began to eat away at the exposed meat. Screaming in agony, Nuit tried to pull back with his fin gers, but with virtually no bones in his body, he was no more than a sack of quivering, jellied flesh.
"He said it was over!" he screamed, sobbing. "He said I was to be his eyes and ears -
relent!"
They stopped. His wormlike body slumped in fatigue. But soon he saw their purpose as several Harpies began vomiting regenerative black blood into the wound site. He watched in awe as the bloodied nub began to slowly grow with new bone and tissue. Then a scythebearer bent and produced a cured human stomach filled with black blood from under his robe and brought it to his parched lips that he might drink. Nuit greedily sucked at the regenerative substance, chok ing as he took it in as fast as he
could. Spent from the first feeding in more than two weeks, he closed his eyes, feeling soothing warmth begin to invade his fevered body as beetles and pests exited through every orifice and pore. Slowly, damaged organs knitted back together, and missing parts grew out of the small scraps of tissue that remained. Broken bones mended but made him scream with agony as they snapped back into place.
Sweat covered the new skin on his na**d body, and another scythe-bearer came to his side to feed him again. This time it cradled his head as he drank, its red glowing eyes gleaming within its hooded robe. Fallen trained his eyes on the vacancy within the robe and it showed him his old throne. Tears of relief slid down Nuit's face while he fin ished the offering, the sweet elixir of life coating his insides with ecstasy. As the demon that held him stood, Nuit grasped its wrist for support to stand. His new leg was numb, but from all ap pearances, he wasn't marred. The face in the hooded robe went black for a moment when the scythe-bearer closed its eyes and nodded yes. Without needing to be told it slowly lowered itself to the floor on its knees with the others, making a small circle around it and Nuit. The hooded entity then turned around and lifted its robe. Nuit glanced over his shoulder into the vast darkness beyond, but the need after regenerating from near extinction was too great to deny. No less than he could have denied the blood offering presented to him. He dropped to his knees, mounted the messenger, threw his head back, and wailed.
* * *
"I can wait," Machiavelli said in a smooth but annoyed croon, causing Sebastian to leave Lilith's body in fury.
The two warlocks squared off in a black-bolt challenge, but Lilith's hiss created a temporary cease-fire.
"You come into my bedroom, waltz in without an invitation!" Sebastian shouted, poised and ready to send a blast at the well-dressed intruder across his bedchamber.
"You Romanians are too volatile and impetuous," Machiavelli tsked. Lilith's gaze narrowed. "You know how much I enjoy your company, my dear, but your timing was more than rude and threatens my patience."
"Scusi, but this is why I came, bella. You cut me off for Sebastian when his impetuous move could have backfired on your ultimate plan."
"Liar!" Sebastian shouted, drawing on a heavily brocaded burgundy robe.
"Why thank you," Machiavelli crooned. "Compliments like that might gain you the favor of even my company one night."
"Speak quickly," Lilith said, growing exasperated as the two Old World warlocks sparred with words. "Sebastian is a strong warlock. Your charges had better be valid this time, Machi."
'To be sure," Machiavelli said with a gloating scowl as he walked slowly back and forth in front of the large circular bed, speaking as though he were in an Italian court again.
"Sebastian is indeed a strong warlock, his specialty potions and poisons - but that is where his expertise lies and should have remained. He does not know the twists and turns and outrageous complexity of the human psyche like I do."
"Make your point," Lilith said, growing nervous as the thwarted orgasm ebbed. Machiavelli stopped pacing and stared at them with his hands behind his back. "Lilith," he
said, curtly. "Have you any idea what striking complete fear into the male Neteru could alternatively do?"
He waited a beat. "Play with the concept on your palate." Lilith slowly stood.
"Yes. It might kill his libido as he rallies troops, calls Neteru warriors from his King's Council - and it would draw his mate into battle cohesion with him, any potion to build her lust counteracted by her survival imperative."
Machiavelli walked away ticking off charges against his graceful fingers. "The team that was to be in bliss would panic, all lovemaking cease, as they prepped for battle to follow their Neterus to their deaths ... so what would there be to be jealous of?" He spun and looked at Lilith. "Your entire plan could crumble unless you can re-create a false sense of security for these people. They need a period of normalcy for any of this to work. I can help with that, if you immediately remove him from our liaison - I'm sure you understand that I'd gladly share bodily fluids with him, but not warlock strategies." Machiavelli shook his head and laughed with an evil scoff as Lilith screeched and flew at Sebastian, slapping and clawing at him while he covered his head and yelled, "You f**ked up, signore. Move over, she's my conquest for the night."
CHAPTER SIX