The Thirteenth(19)

"Madam, I assure you, you do not have to disrobe to show me your good intent!" Mr. Sinclair said, mortified. He turned away, but Big Mike reached through the huddle of Guardians and turned him back to face Damali.

"Yeah, sir, she does, sorta . . . and you do need to see this." Big Mike gave the man a slight shove as Damali covered her br**sts with folded arms but allowed her wings to unfold from her shoulder blades.

For a moment no one spoke as Mr. Sinclair slowly sank to his knees and then covered his face with his hands.

"Send the man home, would ya, D," Carlos said, walking away.

"Hold it, hold it, give the man a chance to breathe and take it in," Yonnie said with a smile, chewing on a toothpick. "I had the same reaction when I saw my first pair--bet you did, too, boss. Besides, if he's cool and can hang, we could really use that boat right about through here." Jose nodded. "I'm just saying." Juanita shook her head. "Y'all are so not right." Marlene and Marjorie knelt beside Mr. Sinclair, rubbing his back as he began to loudly sob.

"It's all right," Marlene murmured. Marjorie laid her cheek against his back. "Let it out." Damali dropped down on her knees and took up Mr. Sinclair's hands until he looked at her. "Sir . . . we need your help. But it's dangerous. I'm not an angel, just a ... I don't exactly know what--a hybrid, I guess. My Guardian sister Val also has wings, and, uh, a couple of the guys have fangs." Damali motioned toward Val, who gave him a small wave.

Monty shook his head wildly and then squeezed his eyes shut. "Don't send me away from this miracle. I've seen this all my life," he wheezed. He promptly opened his eyes and pointed at a stained-glass window. "Out there, on the boats ... I saw a caramel-skinned angel--one at the bow, and a darker beauty at the stern--that guided me through an unimaginable storm . . . but it was sunny and gorgeous out. . . pure blue skies, when they boarded my craft. And they said not to be afraid. I'd always have that little daydream in my mind while I was piloting, wondering if I was sheerly mad, or if it were just a metaphor for a guardian angel or two helping me to navigate all the storms of my life."

Monty scrambled up to his feet. "You say going with you is dangerous . . . have you watched the news? I could die from a rabid dog attack, from the plague, from random violence, or someone attacking me for a few groceries as food begins to run out here, like it has on the mainland."

"The man has a point," Berkfield said, gaining nods all around.

"Yeah, well," Carlos said, still unconvinced. "D just showed him the good stuff . . . let's see how he does when me and Yon-nie show him a battle bulk and fangs."

Nuit strolled into his private, subterranean lair just off the corridors of the council grand hall, glanced at his wife, and smiled. The sumptuous Hell chamber was yet another prize, just like Lucrezia.

Surrounded by powerful black marble that emanated a constant, renewing dark charge, he touched the veins that pulsed in the walls and smiled. Just for sport he pierced a capillary with a sharp nail simply to watch the blood slowly ooze down the wallpaper before the wound healed itself. He licked his finger and returned his attention to Lucrezia.

"You have done well, Fallon," she murmured seductively. "The others are green with envy . . . hissing and spitting in outrage behind our backs."

He nodded with a sly smile. "Then be sure never to turn your back, cherie. Not even on me, at times."

She laughed softly, walking past the long onyx table flanked by high-backed, crimson, velvet-ensconced thrones, dragging her finger playfully along the gleaming finishes. Gazing around at the iron-held wall torches and the walk-in fireplace constantly being tended by enslaved Harpies, she sighed.

"I like the weaponry on the walls," she remarked, seductively glancing at the implements of torture strategically mounted against segments of granite.

"It is living art," Nuit said, coming deeper into the sanctuary. "Do not get too close or you might find yourself an unwilling captive. This was Dante's private haven. Lilith offered it as a prize . . . since she already has better than this on Level Seven."

"Better than this?" Lucrezia murmured, tilting her head to the side and tracing her jugular with a forefinger.

"Don't get crazy," Nuit warned with a laugh. "To go after Lilith's lair is to literally lose one's head."

"Just dreaming." Lucrezia offered him a pout and then smiled, letting him see just a hint of fang. "I love what he did with the serpents," she added in a husky voice, looking over to the bed that rose out of a black mist above a bottomless abyss.

Moving forward, she allowed her council robe to fall away and pool on the floor as she reached out toward one of the massive marble posts that held draped, crimson sheers. Curious, she waited until one of the huge adders slithered down from its perch to wind around her arm. Then suddenly the serpent yanked her to the post it had descended from, binding her to the marble in a writhing hold. Clearly jealous, the others left their posts and joined in the pulsing tussle for dominance of her body, striking her and one another until order was finally restored.

"Ah . . . they're trained," she murmured, and then held Nuit's gaze trapped within her own.

"Over multiple millennia, cherie." Nuit licked his bottom lip as his fangs crested.

"You're not joining me?" she said, her expression crestfallen when he simply materialized a goblet in his hand and pressed it hard against the wall.

"In due time," Nuit said in Dananu, savoring a sip of blood while he watched the serpents close their eyes in ecstasy as they enjoyed rubbing themselves over Lucrezia's nude body. "But in order to keep this, I must be vigilant. . . Vlad would literally kill for this chamber."

"Can't you just relax for a little while?" Lucrezia gasped in Dananu, lolling her head back against a post as one of the large adders parted her thighs.

"Soon, cherie . . . but I must ask you a bit of business, first."

She lifted her head and hissed. "I am your wife, Fallon, not your competitor."

"Be that as it may--humor me."

They stared at each other for a strained moment and then she smiled.