Touch of the Demon (25 page)

I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “I need to know I’m safe here,” I said. “That’s the whole damn reason I came here when I got away from Mzatal.”

He caught my face between his hands. “You have nothing to fear now from these visiting lords,” he said. “I have seen to it.”

“All right,” I sighed, then put my arms around him. “I’m trusting you on this.”

He tipped my head up and kissed me, a slow and tender show of reassurance that quickly deepened. Whatever the hell kind of relationship Rhyzkahl and I had, even if everything else was weird as shit, this part was pretty damn decent.

He slid his hands beneath my shirt to stroke my back, then broke the kiss to nuzzle my neck. “I once told you I wished to fuck you in every room of my palace,” he said, lips moving against my skin. “This one is as yet un-christened.”

I laughed low in my throat, already fired by his words. “So you did.” I gave a mock sigh. “But I don’t know if sex in a library can be all that exciting.”

He pulled my shirt down over one shoulder, lowered his head and bit gently. “Then you do not know much and require tutelage.”

I dropped my head back. “And I suppose you think you can teach me?” I breathed.

His hand slid up to fondle my breast. He bit again, harder this time, then moved to catch my earlobe in his teeth. “Most definitely,” he whispered.

And he did.

In addition to the library, we ended up christening two more rooms—the tree house of the arboretum and a storage room full of furniture—finally ending up back in my rooms where I eventually fell asleep curled up in his arms, exhausted and sated.

I didn’t expect Rhyzkahl to still be there in the morning, and, of course, he wasn’t. At first I thought I’d slept a lot later than I’d intended because of the amount of light in the room. It wasn’t until I got up and actually looked out the window that I realized why it was so bright.

I let out a squeal. “It snowed!” Not only had it snowed, it
still
snowed, flakes drifting down, adding to the thick layer already on the ground and coating rocks and trees and buildings alike. All but the grove, which shimmered green and purple, untouched by the white blanket.

I tore through the available clothing and found a variety of Earth-type cold-weather garb. Boots, hat, gloves, and scarf went over a ridiculous number of layers. I looked like a total dork, but I didn’t care.

I hurried down the stairs and to the broad doors that led to the large back lawn. Kehlirik was crouched inside the doors with a book in his hand, and I smiled in relief at seeing him again. My smile spread to a grin when I saw that he was reading
A Game of Thrones.
Oh, I was
so
getting him hooked on television as soon as I got back home.

“It snowed!” I announced, then dashed outside with an unabashed whoop of delight.

Kehlirik set the book down and followed me out as I tromped through what was easily eight inches of snow. He
peered at me curiously as I launched into my first-ever attempt to make a snowman.

“Yes, it has snowed,” he said. “This brings strong reaction in you?”

“We don’t get snow where I live,” I told him as I made a sloppy attempt to roll snow into a large ball for the base of my snowman. “I mean, not more than a scuzzy inch or two.”

The demon snorted, watching me with open curiosity. “There are other demons who will clear the snow for you.”

“I don’t want them to clear it for me,” I said, slightly breathless. “I want to make snowmen and snow angels and all the stuff I’ve heard you can do in snow.”
I want to have fun
, I added silently as I rolled up a second, smaller ball and placed it atop the first.
I want to forget I’m trapped here and forget how much I miss Jill and Ryan and Tessa and Zack.

Kehlirik made a huffing sound and poked a claw at my partial snowman. I gave him a sidelong glance as I rolled up the third ball and stuck it on top of the others. “Y’all have fun and play sometimes, right?” I knew the demons seemed to have any number of games, but I had no idea how spontaneous they were, if at all.

“Yes, we play games.”

I scanned the area for sticks or rocks or anything to decorate the snowman, but whoever had the job of cleaning up the lawn was apparently pretty damn meticulous. Giving up on the snow sculpture for now, I crouched and packed together a snowball.

“Do y’all ever do snowball fights?” I asked, eyeing him with a sly grin.

He spread his wings and dropped into a menacing crouch, low growl throbbing in his throat. I laughed and let fly with the snowball at him, but he ducked it with ease. In the next instant he took flight, letting out a trumpeting bellow.

“Hey, no fair!” I shouted, laughing as I hurriedly made more snowballs and threw them at the airborne reyza.

I yelped as a snowball smacked me in the back of the head. I whirled to see a faas ducking behind a pillar.

Apparently Kehlirik’s bellow had been a “game on!” signal to the rest of the demons. What followed next was the most insanely chaotic and glorious snowball fight in existence.
Within less than a minute, the area filled with dozens of demons of damn near every variety. Chinese-dragon-faced kehza took to the air with reyza and zhurn in dogfights to rival anything out of World War I. On the ground, a cluster of luhrek—demons resembling a cross between a dog and a goat, with the hindquarters of a lion—whipped together a fort constructed of snow and arcane scaffolding, and proceeded to lob volleys at the airborne contingent. Graa darted with lightning speed between air and ground, weaving shields of potency that formed a sting-delivering obstacle course for all players, while young savik methodically dismantled and reformed said shields and slung snowballs at the faas who darted from pillar to pillar.

For my part, I quickly abandoned any attempt at strategy or skill and simply chucked snowballs at any available target.

Another snowball smacked into my head. I spun, expecting to see the devious faas, but to my shock it was a human who ducked behind a pillar.

I stared at the dark-haired man. Tall, a bit stocky, face maddeningly familiar. And then it registered. “Holy shit. Michael?” Michael Moran was the younger brother of Lida Moran, a goth-metal singer who’d ruthlessly used Michael’s abilities to create golems—actual creatures of dirt and clay—to get rid of her business rivals. Michael had suffered a head injury when he was young, which had made it far easier for Lida and her boyfriend to cruelly manipulate and use him. After the case had finally been closed—after the deaths of Lida and her boyfriend—Eilahn had suggested I send Michael to the demon realm. I’d agreed. I knew that if Michael stayed on Earth, he’d end up in an institution or even possibly jail for the rest of his life. I figured, if Eilahn said he’d have a chance at a better life, I had to go along with it. I trusted her.

He peered out from behind the pillar, smiling shyly. “Hi, Kara.”

I let out a laugh and tromped through the snow to him. “How are you? You look great!” He did, too. His face looked slimmer and far less slack, and his eyes practically sparkled with life.

“You’re through playing?” he asked, stepping warily out from behind the pillar in case I was still packing. “The faas
are great with snowballs,” he added, with another wary look around for any lurking demons. My delight in seeing him grew. It was blindingly obvious that he was more stable and coherent than before.

“Yeah, I’m done,” I said, grinning, though I too scanned for faas. “And yeah, those little suckers know how to sling a snowball. They take their games pretty seriously!”

A broad smile lit his face. “And they always travel in pairs! Makes it hard to sneak up on them.” His face went abruptly serious, and he looked down and away.

“Michael? What’s wrong?”

He wiped at his face with the back of a gloved hand. “I’m really really sorry about all that stuff I did.”

“Ah, jeez, Michael, I know you are.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “I never blamed you. It’s why I had you sent here, so you could have a real chance at a life.”

He took a deep breath and let it out quickly. “It’s really okay?” he asked, worry darkening his expression as he finally met my gaze. “I mean…I’ve been thinking about it and…” He trailed off, swallowing hard.

“It’s okay,” I reassured him firmly, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “You weren’t the bad guy. You were used.” I peered at him. “Are you doing okay here? I mean, you’re being treated all right?”

He broke into a bright smile again. “Yep, it’s the best. They even fixed my head up a bit.”

“I can tell,” I said, deeply pleased for him. “It’s awesome. So, which lord are you with?”

“Seretis and Rayst. I even have my own piano!” He suddenly grimaced and bit his lower lip. “Uh, oh.”

“What is it?”

“Lord Amkir and Seretis,” he told me. “I hope he doesn’t get himself blasted.
Pkkeeeww!”
he added, making a sound like an exploding potency ball.

What the hell? “Wait, who might get blasted?”

“Seretis,” he said as if it was
so
obvious. His brow furrowed, and he seemed to be listening to something far away. “Rayst is in with Lord Rhyzkahl in the main hall, so no help there. Lord Vahl is in the far tower library. Lord Kadir is…” He grimaced, shook his head. “Elofir is out by the ruins.” He paused. “I mean, it’s most likely Seretis’s fault. He probably made Lord Amkir mad. He’s always messing with him.
I just wish he’d do it when Rayst is around.” For an instant he sounded like a parent expressing the wish that his child would take his muddy shoes off outside.

I took a few seconds to process this. “Okay, so, you know where all the lords are all the time?”

“Well,
yeah
,” he said, then we both flinched as the sound of some sort of arcane discharge came from within the palace—sounding almost exactly like the
pkkeeeww
sound Michael had made.

“Oh, shit,” I breathed.

“It’s okay,” Michael quickly reassured me, head cocked. “I think Seretis stopped it okay.” He rolled his eyes. “He won’t stop teasing Amkir though.”

“Teasing him about what?” I asked, deeply interested in any teasing of Lord Asshole.

“Seretis was teasing him about backing down from Lord Rhyzkahl yesterday.”

I tried not to grin too obviously. “I think I’d like Seretis.”

“He laughs a lot,” Michael said. “Says lots of funny stuff.” He winced as the sound of another arcane discharge reached us. “That one stung.”

“Michael,” I said, “can you see where Mzatal is?”

He nodded. “He’s at his palace.” His eyes unfocused. “Harder to tell when they’re far away. His palace…in a dark room. He’s drawing all sorts of sigils, I think.”

“Is he talking to anyone?”

“Don’t think so. Just scowling and drawing.” He shrugged. “Hard to see.”

I will retrieve you
, Mzatal had said. A shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with the snow and cold. Was he working on that even now?

I dragged my thoughts away from that unsettling subject. “Do any of the lords know you can…hear them wherever they are?”

A frown puckered his brow. “I can’t really hear unless they’re pretty close, and then only sometimes,” he told me. “Sometimes I can see, and sometimes I just know where they are.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Seretis knows, and he said not to tell any of the other lords.”

“He’s right. Don’t tell any lord.” I grimaced. “And also be careful which demons you tell.” I gave him a worried look. “Michael, this is a
really
useful gift that could be used for
the wrong reasons. I don’t want to see you taken advantage of again.”

Michael’s face grew serious. “Okay, I won’t. I don’t want it to be like before and hurt anyone.” He drew in a breath. “Seretis said they can’t read it from me since my brain’s messed up.” A smile lit his face. “Guess that’s one good thing about having a scrambled head.”

“That’s a damn good thing,” I said fervently as I gave him a hug. “I’m so glad you’re doing well.”

“Thanks, Kara,” he said, returning the hug. He lifted his head. “I better go. Seretis is calling me.” He grinned. “I think he reflected one back at Amkir and stung him good!”

“That’s what I like to hear,” I said with a laugh. “Take care, Michael.”

“Bye, Kara!” He turned and took off at a jog toward the nearest entrance. I watched him go, relieved and pleased that this had worked out so well for him.

A movement in an upstairs window caught my attention as I turned away. I had a feeling it was one of the lords—maybe Jesral? I didn’t think it was Rhyzkahl. I tried to picture Rhyzkahl enjoying a snowball fight, but somehow I couldn’t see that ever happening.
But I can see Ryan doing it
, I thought with a smile. Ryan would be right in there, slinging snowballs and shouting orders and mock threats.

But would Szerain? My smile faded.

I retreated to a boulder and watched the demons romp in the snow, but it didn’t take long for the heat of exertion to wear off and the chill to creep in. Yet I wasn’t ready to go back inside, to the place where I had to avoid lords and make myself scarce.

The stone path was already clear of snow, which surprised me until I saw two savik moving along the path, igniting sigils that flared to melt the snow away and keep the paths from refreezing. More snow began to fall, but in a light and powdery dusting that seemed to quiet everything to a respectful hush. I started to walk without any clear destination in mind. I wanted to explore and to stay away from the palace for a while. Glancing up, I saw Kehlirik perched on a buttress. I waved to him and he spread his wings in reply. Pyrenth wheeled overhead in complicated aerial maneuvers as if dodging the scattered snowflakes, but I still had an unerring sense that he watched me as well. I shook
my head and laughed softly as I continued to wander the paths. I certainly had no fear that I wasn’t well guarded.

Many of the paths ended in little nooks or grottos, each with such a different feel that I suspected they all had unique creators: a small circular pool so clear and deep that it made me dizzy looking down into it; a rock garden of huge hazy crystals which, when touched, resonated with pure tones that went right through me and made me feel cleaner; a garden I visited for no more than a few seconds because the stench from the giant flower-thing at its center was like the worst decomposed corpse I’d ever encountered. Maybe it appealed to demons, but not me.