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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.
Despite his proclamation about not coming for me, he didn’t let me die.
I don’t know what powers he’d invoked to bring me back from the edge of death, but he’d given all he had. And I didn’t think my protection charm was the only reason he’d helped me. I’d felt something last night, more intimate than if we’d shared a bed. For one strangely long second, I swore we’d been inside each other’s minds. What I saw there, deep where he couldn’t hide it, wasn’t simple hatred he felt toward me. It was much more complex.
Light filtered in from an arched window with no coverings, accentuating the chiseled angles of his face. If I didn’t know exactly what he was, I might mistake him for an angel. Which, in a way, I supposed he was. I wondered what he’d done that was evil enough to be cast out of heaven. I didn’t ask. I doubted he’d confess his sins.
His focus roved over my features, his expression unreadable. I fought a chill.
“I had these… dreams,” I said slowly. “Or memories. Maybe both. You used powerful magic last night.” I watched him carefully. He didn’t move or break eye contact. For a horrible second, I wondered if he’d gone catatonic. Then he cocked his head, waiting. “Before I went after the Viperidae, you said there was a great cost for an antidote.”
I glanced down at the water. I remembered the way we’d been sitting—his legs and arms and body flush against mine… I’d seen illustrations before. Only a few ancient rituals required bare skin contact—in essence, they were a rebirth of sorts. Like he’d transferred some of his power to me, using water as a conductor between our flesh. None of the rituals were to be taken lightly. I wasn’t sure if his magic was the same as a witch’s, but figured it was close.
I flicked my attention back to his. “What was your price for saving me?”
