Kiss of a Demon King iad-7 Page 17

  today-but only about one topic. He kept asking her how many times she'd died.

  Finally she said, "Why do you care? Does it soften you to know terrible things were done to me when I was a girl?"

  "I... don't know. Do you want my sympathy?"

  She shrugged. "I don't deserve your sympathy." Though this could have been a maudlin statement, she said it as if it was a fact of life. Because it was.

  "The strand of white in your hair. I've heard of that occurring when someone knows fear so bad, it shocks their system. What happened to you, Sabine? Did Omort hurt you?"

  "He's never hurt me." Physically.

  "You are still loyal to him?"

  She couldn't tell the demon as much as she wanted to, or needed to. She couldn't tell Rydstrom how she hated her half brother, or how much she agreed with Rydstrom-that Omort had to be killed. Anything she said now could be seen by Omort later when they were recaptured. Her brother would force the demon to open his mind. And my betrayal would be there, plain for Omort to see.

  "He's protected Lanthe and me for many years," she hedged. "And besides, should I be loyal to you over him? You keep me bound, risking my life in this danger-ous place. At least he cherishes my life. He'll be coming for me."

  "I look forward to that."

  "Speaking of loyalty-why would Lothaire betray

  Omort for you anyway? Had you two been working together all this time?"

  "The vampire wanted something I could give him, and we bargained for my freedom."

  "He's the one who traced us out here?" At Rydstrom's curt nod, she said, "When would he ever have had a reason to be in Grave Realm before?"

  Rydstrom shrugged. "He said he knew much about the kingdom."

  "Is that so? Then maybe he could've gotten us closer to a portal instead of making us tromp through this gods forsaken place."

  "The portal openers move constantly. Suck it up, sorceress."

  When she stumbled once more, she said, "Demon, come on!"

  "Unless you can tell me another way to render you powerless, the bindings stay."

  "What if I vowed not to use my power?"

  "Your vow?" He gave a cruel laugh. "You'd be gone in seconds."

  "You said there'd be parity, but it's not like I tortured you. I never physically harmed you, yet you're killing me out here."

  "Under your care," he sneered the word, "I had my spine severed and a hole punched in my chest."

  "That wasn't my fault-I saved your life." Her expression lit with realization. "You're most upset about the three who bathed you, aren't you? I'd thought you might like it!"

  "No-you-didn't."

  She nodded easily. "Okay, that was a lie. But I didn't think you'd hate it, per se." When he narrowed his gaze, she said, "Yes, yes, that might be a lie as well."

  "How would you feel if I had three women bathe you?"

  She quirked a brow. "Like I was on a date gone well. And actually, according to your parity rule, you have to arrange for it. And they have to be ravishing, because I sent you choice Inferi-and they were all volunteers, believe me."

  He snapped, "This is exactly why I will not do that to you-if it's not punishment to you, then it won't be like for like." He increased his pace.

  "What exactly does your parity involve again?" she asked, hurrying to keep up. "I'm unclear."

  He stopped and turned so suddenly she almost ran into him. Gazing down at her, he said, "You will have one more night where I am going to make you scream with need-unless you beg me to ease you. After that I won't take you again until you say, 'I beg you to claim me. I need you as my master and surrender my will to yours.' And Sabine, I can wait as long as it takes. You will lose if you match swords with me in a battle of wills."

  "As long as it takes? Exactly how long are you plan­ning to keep me? When will you release me?"

  He gave her a strange expression-part possessive, part aggressive. His eyes turned sharply from green to jet-black. "I won't."

  26

  Over the long day, the landscape gradually trans­formed again. The thickening underbrush tangled at their feet, and wind-whipped trees filled crowded groves. Rivers carved through plateaus, with cliffs over­looking all.

  He and Sabine continued to ascend, crossing one shallow stream after another.

  : She glared at every bramble, glared at the sun blazing overhead, glared at him whenever he helped her drink from the canteen.

  Rydstrom couldn't stop thinking about what he'd learned this morning. Where had he been five hundred years ago when Sabine had been unprotected and tor­tured?

  Maybe if he'd been able to let go of his quest for the crown and had searched for her instead, he could have spared her this. My female, slashed like that as a mere girl

  Had she been afraid? Had she known what was about to befall her?

  She'd said that wasn't the last time she'd been murdered, and, in this, he believed her. So how many deaths had she suffered? Exactly how else had she died? How old was she each time?

  No wonder she held life in so little regard.

  He'd yelled at her this morning, shaking her to get her to tell him. And something had happened. She'd gotten a look about her, and her eyes had darted. Her swagger had vanished.

  As he'd suspected, whenever she was discomfited, she camouflaged her expressions with an illusion of either amusement or patronizing indulgence.

  Now there were no illusions. And she was so used to mystickally hiding her expressions that she didn't remember to school them.

  Angry, sarcastic Sabine had started blushing today, as well. Whenever she'd caught his gaze on her strand of white hair or her neck, a pink flush colored her high cheekbones. She acted as if he now knew a flaw in her character that she'd tried to keep hidden.

  Sabine had become an open book. And what he was reading disturbed him greatly.

  She'd asked him if the knowledge of her past had softened his anger. He almost felt numb to that anger, as if his confusion about her had overwhelmed it. At every turn, she confounded him. Like the most complicated puzzle he'd ever encountered.

  This situation reminded him of when his Lykae friend Bowen had been trying to win the pretty witch Mariketa. The two had gotten off to a rocky start, since

  he'd trapped her in a tomh of Incubi and hadn't rescued her for weeks.

  Rydstrom remembered being perplexed by his friend's confusion and weird aggression. Rydstrom had been so smug, calmly advising Rowen to reason the situation out. He recalled Bowen snapping that he was going to enjoy it when Rydstrom found his own woman. She'll make your horns go ramrod straight every time she. saunters by. Bowen had been eager to see her shake Rydstrom's unflappable demeanor.

  Was I once unflappable? It seemed a lifetime ago. Now

  I comprehend what Bowen had gone through. But the Lykae had ultimately used his head to fig-ure out how to win the witch. Once they'd been wed, Bowen had told him, "I learned a lesson-with a mate, do nothing irrevocable. There are lines not to be crossed with a female, ones you can never come back from. And never for an immortal would suck in this case."

  Do nothing irrevocable. But by leaving Sabine bound, Rhdstrom was earning her hatred. While he took his revenge, was he doing something she could never for-give? It didn't matter what actually was wrong or right or fair-only what she believed was. .. . As he helped her across another stream, she said,

  "Why do you even want this kingdom back so badly?"

  No one had ever asked him that specifically. Weeks ago, the Valkyrie Nïx had asked him, "Which would you prefer to have? Your queen or your crown?" He often thought back to that night. He'd answered his crown, a choice made so easily.

  "It's my birthright," he finally answered. But it hadn't always been. Rydstrom hadn't been raised as the heir of Rothkalina. And as the second son of an immortal king, I he'd had no reason to think he'd ever be the ruler.

  Fate had had other plans, and Rydstrom had changed his out of necessity. "I want to see my people prosper once m
ore."

  "Why?"

  "Because I'm their king. Their well-being is my responsibility."

  "At least you're honest and not spouting nonsense like 'Because I love them as a father loves his chil­dren.'"

  Rydstrom feared that he didn't love his people-not enough. Sometimes he resented them, resented that he was trapped in a never-ending struggle to win a crown that should never have been his.

  His older brother, Nylson, and their father, the great king, had gone to battle the Horde. They'd disregarded the custom to separate the king and heir in times of war, and they'd both died.

  Leaving Rydstrom as a bewildered young ruler.

  After that, he'd burned to get his brother Cadeon his own successor, out of harm's way, fostering him with another family as soon as he was old enough. Which Cadeon took a nine-hundred-year exception to. . . .

  "I also want my home back," Rydstrom added. "'To restore it to its former glory." And to scour it clean.

  Never had he felt at ease like he had at Tornin in ages past. He'd always held on to memories of his fam-| ily there, of Mia and Zoe playing hide-and-seek with

  Cadeon when he was just a pup, of laughter echoing in those great halls.

  But once Cadeon was grown, he had ignored Ryd-strom's summons to return to the castle and hold it against their foes. Cadeon had chosen to remain with his foster family. Tornin had fallen. . ..

  If Rydstrom could win the kingdom back, then maybe some of the strain would fade between him and his siblings.

  "Do you think you deserve this kingdom?" Sabine asked.

  "It's mine by right."

  "Might makes right," she countered. "In any case, were you such a great king that it would be right for you to have it back?"

  "I believe I was." Of course, he'd only been ruler for very few years.

  "You left this kingdom mired in the past. No advances even for the time. No roads, no tolls, no permanent portals connecting Rothkalina with other provinces."

  "I didn't have time! I'd been at war with the Horde from the first day of my rule." When that crown had first sat so heavily on his head. "And you forget-many of my kind can trace. Beings shape their world by neces­sity. There wasn't a need for clunking metal contrap­tions or blowing up mountains to build roads."

  "If you keep the kingdom without arteries, then only those who can teleport can prosper. I'll bet you're feel­ing the-sting of that right now since you can no longer trace."

  "Because of Omort," he grated. In the past, Rydstrom had been able to effortlessly trace from Rothkalina to other planes and civilizations. Now he was in his own kingdom, traversing Grave Realm-by foot.

  Just another reason to slay Omort. With his death, Rydstrom and Cade's ability to trace would be restored.

  Sabine continued, "And what about other non-demon beings who might want to make Rothkalina home? You're hardly attracting them to settle here."

  "Like the Sorceri?"

  "Maybe." She raised her chin. "We're not without talents."

  "Rothkalina has a dearth of wine drinkers and slave keepers."

  She ignored his sarcastic comment. "Not that they'd want come to this medieval plane anyway. We're merry, and the rage demons are stodgy and stuck in old ways."

  "Then what's your excuse for wanting to remain?"

  "Here there are no Vrekeners and no humans. Demon, even an evil sorceress needs a safe home to call her own."

  If you accepted me, I'd give you one. ...

  "It's not like Tornin is a premium castle though," Sabine continued. "Don't you really want to get back in Tornin because of the well's power?"

  He tensed. "Do you know what it does?" Because Rydstrom ... didn't.

  "Maybe I do. But don't worry, I won't tell. I like that everyone's imagination runs wild. Some think it's a mystickal prison, a power base, a wish granter. Oh, and that it resurrects the dead. Do you even know?"

  "I know that my breed of demon was created solely to protect that well. Tornin was constructed to house it. It's my duty to safeguard both."

  "And you always do your duty. Doesn't it ever get boring? I think that's why you're so attracted to me, because I've shaken your reasonable, rational, ordered life. I'd wager that you've felt more excitement with me in the last week than in centuries."

  That hit far too close to home. "And I think I've never known anyone as egotistical as you."

  "Egotistical? Try self-confident. Should I be meek instead? Would you like me better then?"

  "No. I've never wanted a meek woman for my own. I've wanted a queen-"

  "And now you have one."

  They carried on in silence as the terrain grew more punishing, leaving him to mull over her words. Even with their history, the fact remained that he had her.

  The one he'd longed for... .

  She began lagging behind again. Fortunately, the brush opened up just ahead, revealing a scene below them. The sun blazed down on a clear green pool fed by dozens of cascades.

  "Do we have to cross this water, then?" She rubbed her forehead on her shoulder, trying to keep the sweat from her eyes. "I can't swim. Even if you released my hands."

  He opened his canteen and helped her drink, then took a healthy swallow. "All Lore creatures can swim. It's instinctual."

  She gave a bitter laugh. "I can't tell you how wrong that statement is."

  "Have you drowned?"

  "I don't know how to swim. Never learned. An out-doorswoman I am not."

  "Have-you-drowned?" he snapped.

  "More-than-once?" she snapped back, her eyes growing blue with anger.

  Obviously, this was a sensitive subject with the sor-ceress. "I'm weary of this, Sabine. You give me hints of what you're like, about your history. Am I supposed to spend the rest of the day wondering if you've drowned? Or why you don't like people touching your face-"

  "Sorry I don't feel chatty just now! I'm out of breath and need to rest!"

  He shook his head. "We press on-"

  "We have to stop! I'm hurting here. My arms have been asleep for twenty-four hours. And when was the last time you wore metal against bare skin? There is one reason for this top-to look fabulous. Not to trek through the wilderness. Out here it collects sand, which rubs against my breasts. And they are already far too sensitive because you were forever kissing and sucking on them last night!"

  Memories of the night before flashed in his mind, and he stifled a groan. Throughout the day, he'd been recalling with pleasure all the things he'd done to her body-and planning with anticipation what he'd do to her tonight.

  The most excitement in centuries? She was right. "Demon, are you listening to me? This isn't parity. I never kept you in pain or hurt your flesh."

  "You're immortal. You'll be healed by sundown-"

  "Just take a look at them! They'll be pink and tender. Oh! And I'll bet my face is getting more sunburned!"

  It was, which made her freckle across the bridge of her nose, which meant she looked even less like an evil sorceress. Damn her. Her body was so fragile, not like other females of the Lore. A Valkyrie or furie would be laughing at a hike over this terrain.

  "You want me to fix it?" He unfastened her top, then yanked it off her, dropping it to the ground.

  If he'd expected her to gasp and stammer, he'd have been wrong. Instead she sighed, flexing her back and rolling her head on her neck.

  Her breasts were pink and looked tender. The tips budded right before his eyes. His mouth watered to lick and suckle her-

  "Oh, don't you even think about it, demon!"

  "You dare act angered with me?" Angered over his desire for her? The very need she'd stoked to a blaze?

  Sabine stormed over to him, bare breasted, her hair shining like fire in the sun. "Yes, I dare!" She kicked his shin with the metal tip of her boot.

  He gritted his teeth. "Do that again, sorceress, and you will not like the outcome."

  "I'm beginning to wish I'd ordered more boy-on-boy shower-time for you."

  His eyes
went wide, then narrowed. "You're aching for your next spanking, aren't you? Keep this up, and I'll oblige you."

  "You'd love that, wouldn't you? I think the reason you don't want to release me is because you'd have to part with this anger, and then you couldn't treat me like your sex slave each night. It's so good for you, you can't stand the thought of letting it go."

  He cupped her nape. "You might be right."

  "Of course I am!" Her eyes were blue, her lips parting around panting breaths. She was so damned sexy, too much so.

  He dragged her into his chest. Had she gone up on her toes?

  And then they were kissing each other, crazed, frenzied. Like the night he'd claimed her. Taking her trembling mouth was a madness, an addiction. Wring' ing those little moans and breathless cries . . .he could kiss her forever.

  When she subtly arched her back, he groaned, raising his hand to gently pet her tender breasts-

  Her stomach growled. Loudly.

  He broke the kiss, leaning his forehead to hers as they caught their breath. "We'll stop here for the night, sweet." He took off his tunic, draping it over her front like an apron, then tying the sleeves around her back. "Looks like I need to hunt for my woman."

  She rolled her eyes. "I don't need you to hunt, demon, I need you to gather.'"

  27

  "Drop it, Sabine!" Rydstrom bellowed from a lower plateau.

  Earlier, he'd set up camp on a high promontory, set­tled her by a fire, and finally threaded her arms into his tunic-retying her right after, naturally. Then he'd gone all he-man, marching off to snare the unwitting crea­ture he'd just been dressing. Though he'd kept her in sight the entire time, he'd eventually gotten far enough away for her plans.

  "Drop-the-wine!" He started charging for her. "Bloody now!"

  In response, she maneuvered the bottle neck in her mouth's grasp, tightened her lips, and turned it up, gulp­ing the contents.

  "Damn it, Sabine!" he yelled as he ran.

  When he reached the campsite, she dropped the emptied bottle with a gasp and took in the sight of him.

  His bare chest was heaving, and sweat trickled from his neck. Her eyes followed a bead as it slid down his torso over the ridges of muscle. Magnificent demon.