The Shades of Time by Diane Nelson

he
would keep his options open, and like her, he was betting that the
key they both sought was a someone , not a something.
    While he
managed to redefine the parameters of his mission into terms that
had logical consistency, he had yet to factor how to use the
woman's powers. All he 'felt' was some congruence between the Demon
de' Medici and this puzzle that was Veluria, and it tweaked a deep
well of lust and longing in his groin.
    He must seek
out another vessel soon or risk losing himself to her allure. That
fortuitous encounter with the whore had been like a small
unsatisfying appetizer for a starving man. The main course lay just
within reach, so close he could taste it, smell it, feel it. A
tortured moan escaped his lips as he pictured her writhing under
him until he lost himself in her pale flesh. His ears rang with the
pounding of blood coursing through his system, gasping at the dank
mist in choking pleas for surcease from the beast gnawing at his
innards.
    He could deal
with the competing demands of the Church in this dimension, and the
far more dangerous Council in his own time, but he paled at the
insistent demands on his body, a body too eager to respond to
whatever 'she' insinuated into his psyche.
    Andreas came on
a gurgled moan, humming her name, and pleading to his God, "What is
she, my Lord? I need to know if I am to serve you well."
Weak-limbed he crept out of the shadows and drew the stiletto from
within the folds of the tunic. With irritation he drew the blade
along the inside of his forearm, watching the rich red flow trickle
past his wrist. As her hold on him grew stronger he feared what
might be necessary to shock his system into severing the bond.
    He knew that
the real fear was that he would succumb to that bond and be
corrupted, lost forever, the impossible made manifest … and
strangely desirable.
    "You are lost,"
he muttered, aware that this mantra rose unbidden to his lips with
increasing frequency.
    The slamming of
a door to Andreas' left startled him into leaping back into the
safety of the shadows. He risked peering around the corner of the
building to confirm that the Demon, the Dark One, had exited the
building in haste and was proceeding quickly in the direction of
the city docks. His long strides soon carried him out of his line
of sight.
    Furious at the
distractions wreaking havoc with his senses, he worked through the
limited possibilities: either the woman was on the move and the
Hunter grew bold enough to pursue her openly, or they had all been
wrong about her location and Antonio had been forced to cast his
net in a wider circle.
    Andreas glanced
at the slowly healing slice on his arm, mildly curious that it was
taking longer than normal for the pink flesh to knit. His groin
ached and his cock already felt the irritation of the rough wool,
slick with his seed. He hated this place. If he didn't leave soon,
he would never feel clean again. In any case, he was running out of
options.
    "Find her for
me, you bastard," he growled.
    Without
thinking, Andreas pushed off on his damaged ankle and hissed at the
shooting pain. Bracing a hand against the cold stone to keep
himself steady, he waited impatiently for the ache to subside. He
knew better than to blame fate, yet it did seem that his luck had
taken a decided turn for the worse. If he lost Antonio, and by
implication, Veluria, his chances of infiltrating the halls of
power would be slim to none. The Monsignor simply did not have the
political clout to ease his passage to the power mongers of the
time.
    Grumbling
irritably, he followed the retreating figure as best he could.
     
    ****
     
    "Hold your arms
out, child. I do not wish to bind you overly tight. The talisman
must remain accessible."
    " Gracie ,
Marie. It was good of you to take the risk. But hurry. I feel him
approaching."
    "There, the
Reverend Mother would approve." The tall woman spun Veluria in a
small circle, the rich satins in a waterfall of palest blue,
ballooning over the