Touch of the Demon (19 page)

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Authors: Diana Rowland

BOOK: Touch of the Demon
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He stepped closer so that he was barely a foot in front of me, inhaling deeply as his aura surrounded me, viscous and dark. Slowly he moved around me. My breaths became shallow, and I clenched my hands into fists to keep them from shaking. He stopped behind me, stayed there while I gritted my teeth and fought back a shiver.

The lord took hold of the scarf, wound it back around my throat. He held both ends of it while he stood behind me. He didn’t pull, but I knew he wanted me to understand that he could, that he was in control. I swallowed hard, throat moving against the fabric. He gave a light tug, shifting it tighter though nowhere near to the point of choking me. Didn’t matter. Totally had me freaked out. My instincts screamed at me to run, but I knew he would enjoy such a chase, knew that it would end badly for me.

A low whimper escaped me as he exerted slow pressure on the scarf to pull me back against him. He inhaled, mouth close to my ear.

“I know your scent,
baztakh
,” he murmured, voice resonant with a promise of pain, and terror, and mind-fucking torment.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I sought to tap my anger. He was doing this solely to scare me. And yeah, he was doing a damn good job of it, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t also piss me off. Taking a deep breath, I focused on the peace and calm of the grove.

Still at my back, he released the scarf and put his hands on my shoulders. The way he slid them down my arms almost made me wish it was a sexual move instead of the unknown that it was.

“Perhaps, when Rhyzkahl has finished using you, he will pass you to me.” Dark amusement colored his voice. “I would gladly accept you as partial payment.”

I drew a stupid mental pygah and focused on the peace of the grove, slowing my breathing and regaining my composure
despite the extreme level of revulsion. “Payment? For what?”

He laughed and set his hands on both sides of my neck, middle fingers tracing over my larynx. “Such matters are not shared with pets.”

“I am not, and never will be, a
pet
,” I managed to snarl, holding the feel of the grove close to me.

“Ah, you want to play, little pet?” He chuckled low. “I would very much enjoy that.”

“You bore me,” I said. Play? I had no idea what he was talking about, but I did my damnedest to put as much contempt into my voice as possible. Probably would have been better without the quaver, but I did my best. “I wish no game with you. You’re pathetic.”

He gave a low laugh, moved languidly around to face me. “You do not smell bored. You do not…feel bored.” He ran a finger along my clenched jaw, smiled. Hunger danced in his violet eyes. “Subside or rise fully and show me how pathetic I am.”

What the hell was he talking about? Rise fully?
He’s fucking with me
, I decided. There was no way I could best a lord.

His eyes stayed on my face, amusement flickering in them as he gauged my reaction to his challenge. He let out a low laugh as he reached and shoved me lightly in the chest, still watching as if studying me.

I took a step back. He was definitely goading me, but to what end? Did he truly expect me to strike out at him? I wasn’t
that
stupid.

A reyza landed a few feet behind and to the right of the lord. It crouched and bared teeth at me, but this was no reyza smile. As I looked at the demon, recognition tugged, but I couldn’t understand why. I’d never summoned this one. I knew that much. Kehlirik was the only reyza I’d ever summoned. And this wasn’t one of Mzatal’s.

Ice dropped into my belly as the memory struck—my own memory, my own pain: A reyza bellowing as he leaped at me, claws extended. A burning tug at my belly. The sight of my bowels coiled on the floor in front of me. The growing pool of blood.

Sweat stung my armpits despite the chill in the air. This was Sehkeril, the reyza who’d aided the Symbol Man serial
killer during his final attempt to summon and bind Rhyzkahl. Sehkeril had eviscerated me, and I had only minutes to live when Rhyzkahl brought me back to the demon realm and allowed me to die here.

The lord closed the gap between us. “I will go now and speak to Rhyzkahl about arrangements,” he said, cold amusement in his voice. He leaned in close—far too close—face beside mine as he murmured in my ear. “Sehkeril will keep you company while I am away.”

The lord pressed a forefinger into the notch of my throat above my collarbones, just enough to be painful without doing any actual damage. What the
hell?
He smiled as I coughed, looked upon me for another unpleasant moment, then turned and headed away.

Sehkeril growled and clicked his claws together, quite clearly trying to unsettle me. He didn’t need to; his creepy lord had taken care of maxing out my freakout, and all I wanted to do right then was to get away from this place. Surely the reyza wouldn’t hurt me while I was in Rhyzkahl’s realm? Hoping that was true, I turned away from him and hurried back down the stone steps toward the palace, but I heard claws on stone and a near constant growl as he followed. My heart pounded a crazy rhythm as I descended the steps, and my back prickled. I fully expected a shove from behind or some other harassment.

I heard a rush of wings followed by Kehlirik’s voice, speaking in demon to Sehkeril, and it definitely wasn’t a friendly
How ya doin’?
Glancing back, I saw that Kehlirik was keeping the other reyza occupied. I breathed a silent thanks, but still quickened my pace as soon as I reached the path. I crested the low hill, and the grove came into view. That’s where I wanted to be—shielded within the embrace of those living walls. I wasn’t safe here, that was for sure.

I’m
not
safe, I realized with sick disappointment. I’d come here—
escaped
to here—assuming I would be safe, that I wouldn’t be hurt or harassed or mistreated.

I shot a quick glance behind me as the two reyza took flight, snarling at each other. I wanted to be in the grove, but more than that, I wanted to be away from here.

Why not leave?
I suddenly thought. Why
not
find someplace safe and quiet where I could think and ponder and get
my head back to where it needed to be.
But I don’t know this world, and I really do try not to be extraordinarily stupid.
My gaze went back to the grove, and the familiar calm seeped through me. It
could
take me someplace safe, I realized as clearly as if the grove had spoken to me—and then I somehow knew it had done just that. I didn’t know how sentient it was, but I knew, as surely as I’d known that I could use the grove to travel, that it would take me away from Rhyzkahl’s realm to someplace safe, with no alien or undue perils, where I could begin to process everything.

Kehlirik and Sehkeril were high and behind me, flying a snarling, hissing aerial dance. If I was going to do this, now was likely my only chance.
No…I
am
doing this. I’m leaving.
It was the right move. I knew it. Neither reyza seemed to notice me taking the path toward the grove, but I knew it was only a matter of seconds before they did. I made a quick scan for any other demons nearby and didn’t see any. It wasn’t very far. I could do this.

I bolted and took off at a dead run for the grove as fast as my not-very-athletic body could manage. If I had any luck at all the two reyza would remain occupied with whatever the hell dominance game they were playing.

Clearly, I had no luck whatsoever, for a bellow sounded not even a heartbeat later. I sprinted all out, eyes on the grove as I gasped for breath. I figured, worst case scenario—meaning Kehlirik broke off immediately—I had about a count of ten to make it to the trees. Once I was within that tree tunnel I was home free. I knew that. The grove wouldn’t let anyone pull me away. Five, six, seven; hope rose within me. I was actually going to make it. An exultant smile spread across my face despite the deep burning of my lungs and legs from the sudden exertion. Eight, nine…

The mark on my forearm flared white-hot then went utterly cold as a wave of weakness slammed into me. I stumbled, then sprawled to my belly in an awkward slide. I couldn’t even get my hands up to break my fall, and pain lanced through my cheek and forehead as the coarse grass scraped my face. I struggled to focus, to get up, to run those last few feet, but my body had zero strength in it. I couldn’t even lift my head to look toward the grove, though I could feel it
right there
.

The world dipped and spun. Kehlirik landed beside me
and crouched, crooning softly.
Was this a heart attack?
I wondered, utterly bewildered. So close. I’d been so close. Tears of frustration slid down my cheeks, but I didn’t have the strength to sob or scream.

Sehkeril landed near, but Kehlirik warned him off with a roar and a snarl. Kehlirik made a soft ticking sound as he gathered me gently into his arms, my body as limp as if I was unconscious. He shifted so that my head rested against his chest instead of lolling back. The mark on my arm burned with a cold pain, as if ice had been held against it for far too long.

The mark. A shiver went through me. Was that it? Maybe I’d tripped a ward or something. Or maybe Rhyzkahl had somehow zapped me to keep me from leaving. This last thought left me as cold as my mark, yet I had a sickening certainty it was true.


Yaghir tahn
, Kara Gillian,” he murmured. “Forgive me.”

“Wh-what happened?” I slurred, barely able to get the words out and not even sure if he could understand me. I felt like complete shit, utterly weak both inside and out.

Kehlirik stood and began to carry me toward the palace. A
kehza
flew close, curious, but Kehlirik snarled, sending the other demon streaking away. “You were stopped from going to the grove,” he told me.

The cold within me seemed to increase. “Mark,” I mumbled. Kehlirik merely snorted, which was answer enough for me. Nausea curdled my gut, but I wasn’t sure I had even the strength to barf. I wasn’t crying anymore—much. I couldn’t seem to get a handle on the fear that wanted to take up permanent residence in my chest.
What the fuck do I do now?

He carried me to my rooms and set me gently on the bed, crooning low in his throat as he pulled a blanket over me. Again he murmured
yaghir tahn
, but I was too demoralized and upset to respond. He crouched beside the bed, massive head lowered toward me, and bestial face contorted with concern. “Rest, Kara Gillian,” he said, voice soft and deep.

“I don’t want to be here,” I whispered, tears still leaking.

He ticked softly as he settled his wings. “There is nowhere for you to go in the moment, so best to abide in peace, though your heart calls you elsewhere.”

I didn’t want to see his concern, didn’t want to hear his comfort. He’d brought me back here to this place where I didn’t want to be. Yeah, I’d rest. I didn’t really have a choice at the moment, did I? Right now I felt as if I’d had the flu for months, and even blinking required tremendous effort. The only parts of me that actually hurt were the mark and the scrapes on my face, but the rest of me still felt like total shit.

Kehlirik gave a low hiss then rose and exited. I drew a small amount of comfort from the fact that the reyza seemed to be pissed at Rhyzkahl as well.

A few heartbeats later, I felt Rhyzkahl come in. He moved toward the bed. “Dear one,” he said, concern on his face.

I wanted to turn away from him, but I didn’t have the strength, which pissed me off as much as it scared me. Instead I gave him a
Fuck you
glare with an added touch of
You’re a worthless bastard
, then closed my eyes.

The bed shifted as he sat on the edge. A heartbeat later I felt his hand on the scrapes on my cheek. “With Kehlirik distracted, I had no other option but to use the mark to stop you from leaving,” he said as a low warmth eased the sting in my face. “There should have been no pain in the mark when I did so. The damage done by Mzatal twisted the connection.”

I stayed silent, hurt and pissed.

“I know Kadir frightened you, and I understand your desire to flee,” he continued. “I could not allow it as it would take you out of my direct protection.” He set his other hand on my forehead, and gradually the horrible-flu sensation faded along with the worst of the crippling weakness.

Kadir
. Now the creepshow had a name. Taking a ragged breath, I opened my eyes and looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have even encountered him if you’d allowed me to visit the grove,” I said, still deeply upset and hurt. “I needed that, and you denied it.”

Regret shadowed across his face. “I cannot risk you,” he said. “There are many lords arriving, and I cannot adequately protect you in the grove.” His eyes met mine. “Even were this not the time of the conclave, Mzatal could arrive at any moment, and he would not leave you sitting peacefully in the grove.”

“I can feel before anyone comes through,” I muttered, turning my head away. “I needed it.”

Rhyzkahl laid a hand over the mark, easing the cold burn and giving me a bit more of my strength back. “And if, in your musings, you again decide you need to depart?” he asked. “What then? I would have no means to recover or rescue you then, and you would be fully at the mercy of others.” He paused. “And some know nothing of mercy.” He touched my cheek. “Dear one, I sought only to protect you from dangers of which you were unaware.”

I had zero doubt he referred to Kadir, and I shivered at the memory.
His
prisoner? I’d take Mzatal’s tender care over Lord Creepshow’s. “Would it be too fucking hard for you to tell me shit like this?” I turned my head back toward him. “If you’re so damn protective, then why did you let that…that
freak
paw all over me?”

“He was under guest oath then,” Rhyzkahl replied with utter calm. “He is under full oath to me now, and such will not happen again while you’re here. As long as you are
here
.”

Scowling, I rolled away from him and curled on my side. “I want to go home.”

“Yes, I know you do,” he said. “And I seek the means. I do not yet have them.”

I was still pretty damn tired, but at least I didn’t feel like death anymore. Yet I also didn’t know if I could believe him. Most confusing was the fact that what he said made sense. Maybe it was simply the fact that I didn’t like—and certainly wasn’t accustomed to—other people making decisions for me without even the courtesy of explanation or discussion.

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