Touch of the Demon
“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.
“I want to be alone,” I said. “Please…I need you to go away.”
“No.” He pulled the covers from me, and then I felt him shift onto the bed. Before I could wonder what the hell he was doing, he lifted me and pulled me into his lap as he sat against the headboard to cradle me close.
I blinked, utterly shocked at the display of tenderness. There’d been times when the demonic lord had shown a measure of what could be construed as affection, but there’d never been anything as overt as this.
And it was exactly what I needed, though I hadn’t realized it. Releasing a shuddering breath, I found myself relaxing against him. “Why are you doing this?” I sighed.
He bent his head close to mine, nuzzling gently. “It was not my desire to…go away.”
I leaned my head against his shoulder, eyes closing. “You always get what you want?” I murmured.
I heard his whispered reply as I drifted off to sleep.
“No.”
Chapter 13
I thought it was early evening when I woke. Except that the sun slanted through the windows that faced east, and my bladder was about to damn well burst. No, not evening, I realized with a fair amount of dismay. This was the morning of the next day. Holy crap. Even with Rhyzkahl easing a considerable amount of the drain that occurred when he used the mark to stop me, I’d still slept close to a full day. I didn’t even want to think about how long I’d be down if he hadn’t come and relieved that crushing fatigue.
I rolled over to get out of bed and froze at the sight of a flower on the other pillow—large, fragrant, and as vividly violet as a syraza’s eyes. I had zero doubt it was from Rhyzkahl, but…wow. He’d cuddled me, and now this. Actual displays of affection. I smiled. It was weird, but also pretty darn cool.
Musing on the entire scenario, I made my way to the bathroom to take care of the most urgent matter, then came back out and nibbled a couple of grapey-blueberry things from the big bowl of fruit on the table to quell the insistent pangs. Other than being hungry, I pretty much felt back to normal, so apparently sleeping for a godawful long time was all I needed. Not that it made any of this easier to figure out.
I stuck the flower in a glass of water and set it on the nightstand. It had an exotic scent that reminded me of the grove. Perhaps that was why he’d left it for me, since I couldn’t actually go there.
Sighing, I plopped onto the couch in the main room to brood. Being barred from the grove was definitely upsetting, but it didn’t take a lot of navel-gazing to figure out that it wasn’t the actual ban that bugged me the most. I mean, sure, that part sucked, but I also understood why he’d done the arcane version of tackling me before I walked out into traffic. If I left his realm, then any lord would be free to snatch me up and do whatever they wanted with me.
It was the means that bothered me the most. Great, I had a magic tattoo that could be used to drop me in my tracks. That was fucking wonderful. Plus, the big-strong-man-takes-care-of-helpless-woman vibe wasn’t exactly my cup of tea. Why the hell couldn’t he have simply told me why he didn’t want me to go to the grove instead of telling my guardian to not let me near it? Yeah, I could be stubborn, but I usually tried hard to listen to reason. And after my oh-so-pleasant time with Mzatal, I had no desire to go back to being some lord’s prisoner.
Two faas burst into the room without knocking, startling me out of my thoughts. They each bore trays of food though, so I decided to forgive them. More hyper than usual, they burbled about visitors and preparations, then slid the food onto the table and were bac
k out the door before I could even thank them.
I grinned and settled down to eat. There were some things I liked about being in the demon realm, and I could definitely get used to nonstop room service. And not having to clean up or do laundry. Yeah, that pretty well rocked.
A tingle at the back of my neck told me that the grove was activated, which meant someone was arriving. More lords. Curious, I quickly yanked on pants and a sweater, grabbed my mug of chak and stepped onto the balcony. This was how I preferred to deal with any other demonic lords, at least for now: three stories up and far out of reach.
A reyza, a kehza, and a pair of faas emerged from the tree tunnel, followed by a dark-skinned lord, bald, with a goatee and no mustache. Gold glinted from his earlobes, and a chain of red-blood gems the size of my thumbnail hung around his neck. Flowing robes of gold and blue swirled about his feet as he walked up the path toward the palace. The grove resonated with calm spiced with a hint of…adventure?
I continued to watch with naked interest until the lord passed out of sight through the main entry below and to the right of my balcony.
Tucking my bare feet underneath me, I sat on the chaise. I’d barely made myself comfortable when I heard the door. A heartbeat later I felt Rhyzkahl’s presence. Good. One way or another I was going to get some answers and get my doubts sorted out.
Rhyzkahl’s gaze went to me as he stepped out onto the balcony. “You slept deeply.”
The look I gave him was uncertain. “Well, you kinda sucked the life out of me.”
“I did,” he said. “A last resort.” He sat beside me on the couch, not quite touching me. His eyes searched my face, assessing. “You are much recovered, though still disturbed.”
My mouth twisted. “Yesterday was disturbing on a number of levels.” I said. “I didn’t know you could do that with the mark. That’s pretty frightening.”
Rhyzkahl reached out and laid his palm over the mark. “There is a deep connection with the mark, even damaged as it is by Mzatal’s interference.”