Blood Awakening

CHAPTER TWO-1

CHAPTER TWOAFTER THE VAMPIRE WOMAN left, Lucifer perched on the terrace railing and surveyed the city. What an unexpected addition to his evening. A few cars meandered through the streets like ants in a maze, much like her name wandered around his mind. Kissera. Finally, a face to go with the name of the woman local demons gossiped about. Kissera, a vampire who would f**k you or kill you, depending upon her mood. Kissera, who massacred members of the Order years ago because they looked at her companion the wrong way. He liked her style. Demons should show vampires like her more respect.

Her heritage he read from her body. The tattoo on her neck had the unmistakable detail of Shidarians. Like much of the Netherworld, he'd bought into the myth of the Shidarians. Because of their adaptability, they could manifest an unpredictable array of powers. Shapeshifting, telepathy, elemental manipulation, any power a demon had, Shidarians could do better, and other residents of the Netherworld hunted them relentlessly for a chance to mate with one. The Nuru, especially, liked Shidarians. In their legends, pairing with a Shidarian would lead them to a higher plane of knowledge. Children of such couplings were highly valued and privileged. Fearing for their safety, as one, the Shidarians abandoned Hell for Earthside ages ago...poof. Demons gossiped about Shidarian sightings like humans claimed to have seen Elvis and Tupac working at the 7-11.

Lucifer had never seen a Shidarian vampire before, and the novelty piqued his interest. She was Creare, less than five hundred years old, but how did it happen? He was full of questions and his inner demon cackled with glee at the idea of something new. He wouldn't stop, couldn't stop until he knew everything about her. Surprises came around once in a millennia. He'd thought he'd gotten his biggest shock a few hundred years ago with his old girlfriend Maeve. He and the Creare vampire witch were hot and heavy for a century, but a stake through her heart during the vampire war of the early nineteen hundreds cut their love affair short. He missed Maeve's thick Gaelic accent and haphazard spell-casting method. Something in Kissera's attitude reminded him of her and he found himself smiling.

Lucifer peeked in the window. Charouth and Azazel were done sexing. Good. He was hungry, and they had a fresh, roasted pernil cooling on the counter. The new visitation restrictions Charouth demanded after her Fall didn't set well with him at all. As soon as she gained control of herself, she started laying down new rules and regulations, wildly different from the way he and Azazel did things. Some misplaced entitlement gave her the idea she could stop Lucifer from coming around. It didn't happen two thousand years ago when she was an Elite with enough power to have a sliver of a chance to stand up against him. Now? As a Fallen? Her demands meant nothing. He would go where he wanted. Whenever he wanted. Charouth's Fall had taken her sweet temperament, but she'd since developed some kick ass cooking skills that made him forgive her bitchiness.

Lucifer raised his wings and floated down to the main terrace. He pressed his hand to the sliding door and slipped inside. Azazel greeted him with a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked good, the black in his wings was glossy, the red, deep and robust. Maybe frequent s*x romps with his blue and silver winged soulmate was giving him his mojo back. As much as he doubted the strength of their coupling back in the days of the pyramids, Charouth was good for him. Lucifer nodded approval.

“What do you want?” Azazel asked.

“Originally I came over for a cup of sugar. Red has taken to baking lately and I'm her guinea pig. She's not that bad,” he paused dramatically. “For a vampire.”

“You came all the way to New York for that?” Azazel peered at him with suspicion.

He shrugged and made a dismissive noise. “I missed you. You've been held up with your lady love for a while now. I was just wondering if you remembered the job we have to do.”

Azazel tightened the towel and headed into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, set out some eggs, mushrooms and habanero peppers. “You gonna help me chop this or sit on your ass?”

“Why can't we eat the pernil?”

“That's Charouth's. She'll break our wings if we touch it.”

Lucifer pursed his lips. “What doesn't she go ballistic over these days?”

“Give her a break. She's still recovering.”

“Two years later? No way, man. This is her new personality. Charouth, the priss is now Charouth, the b***h. But enough about her.” Lucifer sprang into action, digging into the fridge to find some smoked turkey slices and several cheeses. “I met something new tonight.” He gave a swift chop to the peppers, mushrooms and turkey as Azazel melted butter in the pan. “She's a Shidarian.”

Azazel stopped stirring, gestured at Lucifer with a spatula and shook his head. “No way.”

“I'm certain. She's been turned into a Creare, but the basics are still there.”

“Who is she?”

“Kissera.”

“The Relics chick?”

Lucifer nodded enthusiastically. “That's her.”

“How is that possible? I've seen her dozens of times and never suspected a thing. Are you sure?”

“When will you admit I'm always right?” He waved off Azazel's unspoken objection. “She's requested my assistance.”

“You? What would she need you for?”

“Her companion is missing. As a Creare, she thought it best to keep her Nativum overlords in the dark about the situation.”

“She chose you?”

“Nah, she came here to see Charouth, but you two were busy, so I got the job.”

Azazel returned his attention to the pan. He added chopped onions and garlic. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“I know what you're thinking. This isn't that. Maeve was completely different.” Lucifer popped a thin slice of cheddar in his mouth. “Kissera's got demon in her.”

“Vampires are your weakness, man. Isn't Red a handful enough? You should back off this one.”

“How dangerous can it be to find a missing human? She probably needs a daywalker, someone out of her usual circle, to keep the gossip mill unfed. I put Zarek on the case.” Lucifer frowned. Azazel used to be a bigger risk taker. The whole imprisonment thing had taken a rougher toll on his friend than he thought and now with Charouth to look after, Azazel's adventure-seeking had flat-lined.

“She's a Shidarian. They've been gone so long no one thought they were alive. Who knows what they're capable of anymore. Gods only know what living Earthside has done to them,” Azazel said.

Lucifer extended a wing and poked Azazel between his wings. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

“Ever since Charouth Fell, I don't know what to expect from anyone anymore. Nothing is the same.”

“You're wrong.” Lucifer opened up the fridge and grabbed a few oranges. He made quick work of peeling them and squeezing their juice into a carafe. “Things are the same as they ever were–which you would know if you did your due diligence and paid you-know-who a visit.”

“You know I can't do that now. Charouth can't handle it.”

“Stop making excuses. Charouth is stronger than you think. You'll have to do it, eventually. Better sooner than later.”

“I don't need you to tell me what to do.”

“Yeah, well, stop stalling and get to it. I can't hold the Dark One off forever.”

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