Touch of the Demon (48 page)

Mzatal turned back to Idris and me. “It is late, and we meet early tomorrow,” he said, edge in his voice and the set of his face indicating that the party was over for him. Jekki pressed close to his thigh, and the lord laid a hand on the faas’s head.

I got it. One of his demons was out, and he was back into serious lord mode. I acknowledged with a nod, hesitated, then moved to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re okay, Boss,” I said smiling up at him. “Thanks for the Christmas.”

He stood unmoving for a heartbeat, then lifted his hands to the sides of my head, leaned in and kissed my forehead. He tucked his hands behind his back again, inclined his head a smidge. “Rest well, Kara Gillian.”

“You too, Mzatal,” I said, then gave Idris a hug before heading out. I looked down at the ring on my right hand and smiled. All in all, it had actually been a pretty decent Christmas.

Thirty.
My hand touched the stone at the end of the pool. I tucked my legs as I glided to a stop, pushed off the end, and began another lap. Fifty laps. That was my goal.

Mzatal’s palace was full of things that were just plain Awesome. The library with three full floors of books and spiral staircases, the greenhouse on the north end of the roof with its collection of weirdest-plants-of-the-demon-realm, the waterfall walkway that spanned the river where it plunged from the cliff in its rainbow cascade to the sea far below.

But hands down, my favorite was the pool that I’d dubbed The Very Awesome Pool of Awesomeness. This wasn’t just some run-of-the-mill indoor pool. Hell, it wasn’t even a really fantastic luxury pool that you might find in a mansion or high-end hotel. No, this thing was glorious. Fed by the river, it was like an indoor grotto, with a large inner pool about twenty-five yards long that was perfect for swimming laps; a far deeper section for safe diving—complete with rocky ledges from which to dive; and numerous pools to the side that were either fed by hot springs or warded to be warm. The main pool, however, stayed cool enough for comfortable swimming. The roof above it was thick resin-glass. Rocks and waterfalls surrounded everything, along with lush tropical plant life. The only thing missing was the sounds of birds and monkeys.

Swimming had become a surprise therapy for me in the past several days. Athletics and I had never gotten along, but strangely enough, I’d actually developed a semi-fondness for swimming laps. I was a more-than-decent
swimmer, yet also ridiculously self-conscious; I detested swimming laps at the gym or any other public pool. Here, I had the pool to myself more often than not, and there was usually no one but demons to see me. I could have swum naked if I’d so desired, but in the interest of not traumatizing Idris, I had the zrila make up a bathing suit for me. Actually, I asked for one simple bathing suit, but by the next day I had close to a dozen varying styles in my wardrobe. Apparently the zrila really enjoyed a crafting challenge.

I’d started swimming laps as a spur of the moment, Gee-let’s-see-if-I-can-actually-still-swim-a-few-laps sort of thing, but I soon discovered that when I swam I could forget. I could lose myself in the rhythm of the strokes and the feel of the water, and for that time I wasn’t Kara the demon summoner, or Kara the traumatized survivor of torture. I was simply
Kara
.

But today, I actually thought about summoning while I swam. None of the three demons bearing my letters had been summoned during this full moon, and I forced myself to control the selfish ache. Faruk had seemed nervous, perhaps even frightened before her summoning, but that could easily have been because she was so seldom summoned. Or was there more to it? It had hurt to be summoned when Idris brought me through, like being dragged through broken glass. And from what I’d seen, it had hurt Katashi as well. Yet I had a feeling it wasn’t anything that Idris was specifically doing or not doing. Even the times I’d summoned Rhyzkahl it had seemed to take him a few seconds to gather himself, to recover.

I finished my laps and propped myself up along the edge of the pool. I cast my gaze up at the rocks to see if any demons were around. There were usually a few here and there, but this time the only one I saw was Gestamar, perched on the diving ledge. As I looked up at him he made a graceful bound down to a rock closer to me, as if sensing I had a question for him.

“Does it hurt for y’all to be summoned?” I asked him.

He snorted. “Always. Sometimes more than others, depending on the skill of the summoner and the degree of conjunction.”

“Then why do it?” I asked, brow creased. “Why put up
with it? I mean surely it’s not simply for coffee and popcorn and books?”

“We like coffee and popcorn and books,” Gestamar replied.

I laughed. “Okay, I suppose
I
could see doing it for coffee.” I tilted my head and peered at him. “Is there some other reason you tolerate it?”

The reyza spread his wings wide. “Kri,” he said, then settled his wings in close and bared his teeth.

I waited, then rolled my eyes. “Well, will you tell me?”

Gestamar bared his teeth wider. “Dahn.”

Laughing, I splashed at him. He leaped into the air, nimbly avoiding most of the water, then cannonballed into the pool, thoroughly swamping me. Before I knew it the pool area was filled with demons, and an enormous water fight commenced that rivaled the Epic Snowball Fight at Rhyzkahl’s palace.

I grinned and escaped the pool, then grabbed my robe and retreated down the corridor. Demons certainly knew how to have fun. That was something I never
ever
would have guessed in a million years.

“They miss having humans around.”

I yelped and turned at the resonant voice. Vahl leaned against the wall of the corridor, arms folded, eyes on me. His skin glistened dark and with vibrant health as though salt scrubs, mud baths, and Mega Vitamins for Skin and Hair were the norm. His casual pose reminded me of a mountain lion, sleek and powerful, beautiful and dangerous.

“Lord Vahl,” I said, and tried not to think about the fact that I was wearing a tank-style bathing suit and nothing else. “You’ve been, ah, watching?”

He gave a nod, smiling a little. “They love to play,” he said with a glance toward the demons. “And they love the different rules needed to play with humans.”

“I’ve noticed that they do love games.” I paused, regarded him. “Michelle says you treat her very well.”

He shrugged. “I value her. We all miss humans, though some will not admit it, and the reasons vary.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “She had a really shit life on Earth. Don’t fuck her up.”

He uncrossed his arms and pushed off the wall. “I’ve no reason to do so.”

“Please keep it that way,” I said, well aware that I had zero authority to back up my little mandate.

Vahl snorted softly. “And what of you and Mzatal?” His eyes dropped to the partial sigils visible on my upper chest, then returned to my face.

“What of us?” I responded, shrugging. “I’m in an agreement with him.”

Vahl tilted his head and smiled. “There are agreements and
agreements
.”

I chuckled low in my throat. “And why do you care?”

“Simple curiosity.” His smile widened.

I snorted. What a line of shit. But Vahl wasn’t being pushy or obnoxious in any way. He was simply testing the waters. “We don’t fuck,” I told him. “Is that what you wanted to know?”

He dipped his head in a small nod. “It will serve.”

“Okaaaay,” I drawled. I glanced back to see how the water war was progressing, surprised to see that it seemed to be finished. Not a demon in sight anywhere. Where the hell had they all disappeared to so quickly?

“They have a tendency to do that,” Vahl said. I looked back at him to see his gaze on the pool area as well. “They are here and then not.”

It took me a second to realize he’d read my mental wondering about the demons. “Shit,” I breathed, annoyed at myself. I quickly drew on the grove to fog my thoughts.

One eyebrow lifted as Vahl noted the fogging. “That makes everything more interesting,” he murmured, stepping closer, exuding natural sexiness. “Though reading can make everything very…
very
satisfying.”

I retreated half a step to find the corridor wall at my back. The man was pretty damn hot, and Michelle definitely had a good thing going on in that regard. I also knew that Mzatal wouldn’t blink twice about me sleeping with Vahl as long it was my own choice to do so. “I like keeping my thoughts to myself,” I muttered.

Vahl smiled and closed the distance between us. He lifted a hand and pushed a wet tendril of hair from my face. “As I said…interesting.” My pulse sped as he traced his fingers lightly along my jaw. His eyes stayed on mine while
I gulped softly and wondered whether he was really about to kiss me, wondered if I wanted it, if it was a good idea, and if he was a good kisser.

He leaned down and lightly brushed my lips with his, then kissed me for real, a curl-my-toes kiss, and I lost myself for several heartbeats before remembering both myself and the devious nature of the lords. Yeah, this would probably be good—
great—
sex, but I’d had that with Rhyzkahl and look where that got me. And not that there was a damn thing wrong with casual sex, but right now, I wanted sex to mean something.

I placed my hand in the center of his chest and lightly pushed, breaking the kiss. “That was most enjoyable, Lord Vahl,” I said, breath coming a teensy bit raggedly. “But I think that will have to do.”

He stepped back without protest, inclined his head in acknowledgment with perhaps just a bit of it’s-your-loss thrown in. “Perhaps another time will be more opportune.”

I gave him a smile and a nod, but inside I was thinking,
Don’t hold your breath.
I turned away, exited the corridor, then headed back through the atrium. Mzatal was on the mezzanine, and when I lifted my eyes to his he gave me a warm smile that touched me down to my toes. He’d been monitoring, I realized, and would have interceded in a heartbeat if Vahl had chosen to press his advance past where I wanted.

Feeling damn good about myself and my situation, I headed back to my room to get out of my wet things..

The next few days were comfortable routine. Up at daybreak, quick breakfast and a cup of precious coffee, then off to the workroom for several hours of review, drills, new stuff, practice, lather, rinse, repeat. Then a break for lunch and personal time and any “homework” that had been assigned, and back to the workroom in mid-afternoon for yet more reviews, drill, etc. Finally, a break for supper, sleep, and other silly-but-necessary stuff.

To my surprise, I found myself slotting in exercise as silly-but-necessary—and completely by my own choice, at that. Swimming, the damn stairs, and now even running.

Look at me being all athletic and shit,
I thought with a snort as I tugged on a sports bra and shorts and laced up my sneakers for a run after supper. Jill wouldn’t have any idea who the hell I was by the time I made it home. Hell, I actually had—
gasp
—muscle tone in my legs!

Safar and Gestamar flew sparring patterns above, watching over me as I headed out. The sun drifted low over the sea surrounded by banks of white clouds that promised a glorious sunset, but I estimated I had at least an hour and a half of daylight left. It had been well over a month since I’d last gone jogging with Jill, so I started out at a sedate shuffle. I was a crap judge of distance, but Gestamar had advised me that the path that looped around the lake was approximately two miles.

I had to do the stop-and-walk a few times, but nowhere near as much as I expected. By the time I made it around the lake and headed back toward the palace, I barely even
felt sore anymore, though I knew that tomorrow would probably be a much different story.

The path curved up toward the main entrance, but when I neared my favorite pile of bricks at the base of the hill, I left the path and jogged across the grass toward the rocky slope and the column atop it. I could finish up with a speed climb up the hill and then feel super virtuous before collapsing in an exhausted heap. Hey, it was all about making me stronger, right?

My sprint-climb up the hill ended up being more of a gasping, flailing slog, but I eventually made it to the top. To my surprise, a shirtless Idris was there, about fifteen yards from me, doing pushups in the grass beside the column. As I watched, he cranked out another dozen or so perfect pushups, then leaped up and began tracing a series of complex sigils, face a mask of concentration as he worked his scarred hand. As soon as it was done, he waved a hand to dispel the series, then dropped to do more pushups.

I slowly lowered myself to sit cross-legged on the grass, not wanting to interrupt. Idris smoothly pressed out twenty pushups, then rose and began tracing the same series again with a grace that was utterly at odds with his somewhat awkward social skills. For that matter, everything about him right now was so far from the uncertain youth that it was nearly impossible to believe they were the same. Not only the surety of movement and the confidence with which he traced the sigils, but—holy shit, dude was built like a gymnast. He’d been shirtless when he summoned me, but I’d been a bit too preoccupied to notice anything but the fact that, yeah, he wasn’t scrawny.

A breeze cooled the sweat on my body as Idris dispelled the sigils and dropped to do yet another twenty pushups. I watched the muscles flow in his shoulders and back. Why the hell had he been wasting his time pining over me? Girls would be falling all over him given the chance.

He rose again, but this time he began to move in what I quickly realized was the beginning of the shikvihr. I remained utterly quiet, watching in fascinated awe as he traced sigils in a fluid dance of movement. He set the first four rings as easily as breathing, slowing only slightly on the fifth, and having only the barest uncertainty as he finished
the sixth. He began the seventh ring, made it halfway through, then paused as if he’d run into a wall of molasses. I held my breath as he oh-so-carefully unwound the last sigil without disturbing the rest of the pattern. He went utterly still, and I could practically feel his complete focus.