Apocalypse: The Lords of Deliverance Compendium by Larissa Ione Page B

into something that left him feeling not only exhausted, but… wrong?
    Lilith pushed him aside, easily, as if he didn’t weigh twice as much as she did. Instead of being wrung dry, she seemed to be energized. Glowing.
    Her smile was sensual but satisfied as she went to her feet, leaving him sprawled almost helplessly on the blanket.
    “Thank you, Yenrieth,” she murmured. “Your angelic gift is going to take me far.”
    Bewildered and still fuzzy, he watched her saunter away and disappear into the woods. And wait… Yenrieth? Angel? She’d known what he was?
    Wobbling, he sat up. His palm came down on the spot where she’d been, and now that he was no longer vibrating with lust, a new vibration traveled up from his hand to his soul, a soul that seemed a little soiled now.
    Demon. He was sensing a demon.
    No.
Oh, sweet Heaven, no.
    Fury and anguish welled up from deep inside him. Lilith had seduced him, tricked him, used him. Sickened, he staggered to the pool, desperate to wash her touch from his skin.
    He would never be able to wash her from the wreckage that was his soul.
    As he scrubbed his body with an urgency that bordered on crazed, all he could think about was Verrine, and how right she’d been to run away. He was filth, and he wondered what the consequences of his actions would be… and who would pay the price.
    Verrine spent several minutes vomiting, her heart aching. She knew Yenrieth wasn’t celibate—no battle angel was. Unlike some angels of other Orders who weren’t allowed to—or couldn’t—have sex, sexual need seemed to be part of the battle angel genetic code.
    But to see him with a… succubus… especially after the kiss he’d shared with her, had torn Verrine wide open.
    Nausea twisted through her again, but she fought the urge to spill what little was left in her stomach. Maybe this was her fault for not telling him how she felt about him. Maybe she should have confessed that she’d wanted to feel a male’s body against hers.
    But not
any
male. She wanted Yenrieth to be the one to show her the wonders of making love.
    And maybe she shouldn’t have run away from him like a frightened rabbit. She’d sent him straight into that female’s arms.
    She wanted to scream.
    When she’d come upon the pair in the final throes of ecstasy, it had been horrifyingly clear that he didn’t know the female he was releasing into was a demon.
Damn him!
    Verrine had warned him that his undeveloped ability to sense evil would get him into trouble if he didn’t work on honing the talent. Instead, he concentrated on learning to fight and turning holy fire into a powerful weapon—all admirable undertakings, but he’d neglected to develop other important skills.
    And because he was a male, his reproductive instincts were blocked by a succubus’s charm, and he’d missed the most crucial fact about the demon: She had been fertile.
    Trembling fiercely, Verrine had followed the demon to a Harrowgate, and just before the succubus stepped inside, Verrine had gotten close enough to feel her life force… and the four angelic life forces inside her.
    The succubus was pregnant.
    Verrine collapsed onto the ground, closing her eyes to the horrible reality. No one could learn about this. Yenrieth’s punishment would be severe, and Verrine loved him too much to let that happen.
    She also loved him too much to tell him about the succubus’s pregnancy. Not now, while he was still a novice. She knew him well enough to know he’d scour Sheoul to find the female, and as a novice, he wouldn’t survive down there for an hour.
    No, this was something she’d keep to herself. He might wonder what, exactly, the demon had stolen from him—succubi stole lives, souls, energy, and seed, often a combination of any of those—but with any luck, he’d believe energy alone had been her goal. After all, he was still alive, and he’d have changed if she’d stolen his soul. The seed… well, Verrine would just have to pray he was