Kiss of a Demon King

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.

Then she frowned-he was holding a skinned animal of indeterminate species. Take away the animal carcass, and this would be one of the sexiest sights she'd ever seen.

"Do you know what I went through to get the cork out?" she asked him, turning to muffle a lady-like burp against her shoulder. "Then you expect me to go unrewarded? Besides, I can't face the upcoming trial of ritualistic animal abuse without wine."

He sank down on the opposite side of the fire, spit­ting the poor creature on a stick.

As he secured the little carcass over the flames, she studiously surveyed the scenery. Rydstrom had made their camp high up on a large jutting cliff. Below them the falls trickled into a pool of the darkest green-the color of his eyes. Other cliffs surrounded the water on three sides, and as the wind rushed in, white blossoms danced on the swirling air.

In minutes the smell of roasting meat was pervasive. After the day's arduous journey, she was starving, and the scent wasn't as bad as she'd thought it would be. In fact, it was . .. appetizing.

"It smells good, doesn't it, sorceress?"

She turned up her nose. "I won't eat it."

"Just look at it."

Before she could stop herself, she did. Her mouth watered at the sight. It was so succulent, it dripped, making the fire hiss. No, I'm more refined than this. I don't eat animals! "You are fully aware that my kind doesn't consume meat."

"You will now."

"Now what? Now that you're the boss?"

His gaze flickered over her belly.

"Ohhh, now that you think I might be carrying your babe. Will you force me to eat it?"

"I didn't cause this situation. Remember that." His tone made her raise her brows. "If your plan worked, and you've gotten yourself pregnant with a demon, you'll need meat to feed it."

"Do you not think that it would make me sick to eat something I never have before? Something I find revolt­ing? Perhaps you should have ascertained if I was high-maintenance before you abducted me."

When her stomach growled again, he rose and snatched up the empty pack. "Do not move, princess. I'll be back with something you might deign to eat."

A short time later, he returned with the pack full, dumping the contents on the blanket. She quirked a brow at a selection of berries. "A male trying to poison me. How . . . novel."

"They aren't poisonous." He scooped up some and popped them into his mouth.

"Not to demons, but they're toxic to me. Because we're not of the same species."

"You make it sound like we come from different plan­ets. We're not that different." • "No?" Her gaze flickered over his horns.

He ran his hand over one, then glowered at her. Strangely, she seemed to be exasperating him-but not angering him.

She gave a nod at a dirt covered root. "I'm not a bunny, Rydstrom. And is that bark?" With a laugh, she said, "Good gods, you brought me bark to gnaw on!"

"How am I supposed to know what you'll eat? You pass up perfectly good food-"

"That animal is not food. The Sorceri are too refined to eat other living things."

"You care about animals more than you do about other people."

"You see, that's the thing-cows never try to steal my sorcery and chickens rarely try to murder me. Why this is so-I do not know, just that it is."

"Is there anything here that you can eat?"

"The other berries aren't poisonous." When she gave a nod to indicate them, he rinsed them off with water from the canteen, then returned to sit beside her.

As he fed them to her, she took her time eating. He should be forced to wait for her, since he wouldn't allow her to feed herself.

But he didn't seem to mind her nibbling one berry from his palm at a time. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it. "My new pet's an herbivore," he said with amusement in his husky voice.

Disconcerted by the hint of a smile on his face, she gazed around her once more. "It's cooler up here. Why did we have to go so high?"

"Because most creatures don't."

"You wouldn't have to worry about that if you freed me-I can talk to animals."

"Uh-huh."

"Demon, I'm being quite honest about that. I can speak to them, and they understand me."

"In any case, you won't need that ability. I'll protect you from any threats."

"Threats." As they'd gone deeper into Grave Realm, she'd caught him inspecting paw prints in the clay. She'd seen him rest his hand on his sword hilt. "We're in danger. Great. You've taken me to the most hazard­ous place in the entire kingdom-home of R.O.U.S.'s and the like-then bound me so that I can't defend myself."

"Rodents of Unusual Size? I don't think they exist."

Her lips parted- He'd quoted The Princess Bride.

"Don't be so shocked," he said gruffly. "At the local coven of witches, that movie plays twenty-four-seven. They drink every time they hear my darling Westley or something. It's hard to miss."

"Are you often at that coven? Visiting with the witches?." She could just imagine how those little magick mercenaries would fawn over the towering demon king. Sabine disliked witches, was wary of them.

"You sound condescending. Aren't the Sorceri related to the witches?"

"Distantly." Though they might have shared ances-tors and a love of revelry, and some of their powers were interchangeable-and stealable-the Sorceri were a unique culture, far distinct from the earth-worshipping witches. "So answer my question."

"I've been by a few times," he said. "As you might have seen when you were hacking into my brain, my good friend Bowen is wed to Mariketa the Awaited."

Sabine had heard of that female, but then most in the Lore had. She was the most powerful of the witches, so talented with mirrors she'd achieved the status of Queen of Reflections.

To steal her powers would be a coup. But going up against a strong witch or a coven of them was danger­ous. A witch could steal a Sorceri's power-if she killed her. "Ah yes, I remember seeing Bowen. He's the one you're jealous of."

"I wasn't jealous of him-I was envious that he'd found his mate."

"But now you have, too."

"At last, I have."

"Yet you won't release her?"

"She'd run at the first opportunity. Possibly taking my child with her. Both are far too valuable for me to risk losing."

Should I tell him I'm not pregnant? It would only anger him yet again. And now he seemed relaxed for the first time since she'd known him. Even that first night before he'd discovered who she was, he'd been on edge.

She decided she'd keep that knowledge secret for now. The Sorceri weren't known as being guarded for nothing.

When he leaned over and kissed the bridge of her nose, she asked, "What was that for?"

"Your freckles are gone. I told you everything would be healed by sunset." His gaze briefly dipped to her breasts.

She was indeed healed, and the sun was setting, clos­ing another day. She gazed out at the horizon at the last glimmers of light. This meant she had one fewer day until the morsus would strike.

Though she had almost two weeks left, the worry had begun to prey on her.

Contrary to what she'd told the demon, she didn't believe that Omort was coming to save her anytime soon. Rydstrom's escape would rock the Pravus, further jeopardizing the strength of the alliance. And then there was Lothaire's betrayal.

Factions would be bailing left and right, leaving fewer behind to come after her. If the fire demons and vampires weren't available to trace or had never been to this place, then only Lanthe could get to her out in Grave Realm.

But, as Sabine had discovered over the last two days-it was a big realm. The odds of Lanthe opening a portal nearby were slim.

And if Rydstrom took Sabine off-plane ... ?

She was almost spooked enough to consider telling him why she was in danger. But she could just imagine explaining the morsus to him.

"By the way, I'm going to have to take a U-turn and run hack to Omort, your most hated enemy, because I've been poisoned. By whom? Oh, Omort himself. Once I find a way to get back to my brother, I'm going to beg him to give me even more of the poison I've been taking. Is there any proof of my poisoning? Outward signs? Um, none. Not until I have an epileptic-like seizure and begin vomiting blood. And no outwardly identifiable marks, not until I am officially dying. Then you'll see a red X somewhere on my body. But by that time, it will be too late."

The demon wouldn't likely believe her, and she couldn't think of a vow he'd accept as true. Perhaps breaking hers so routinely when she'd first captured him hadn't been advisable.

But how was I supposed to have known to act like my word was good?

The only thing she could do would be to create a clay covenant between them. But she didn't see a kiln or an oven forthcoming in Grave Realm.

Exactly how bad was his mistrust? She'd make a foray to see. . . . "Rydstrom, if I were to tell you something that sounded crazy, and asked you to believe me, could you possibly-"

"No."

"You don't even want to think about-"

"No."

"What would it take for you to trust me? A vow?

Some kind of promise?"

"It will come, Sabine. I believe that. But only with time."

Time that I don't have.

Even if she could eventually convince him, she didn't have eventually. Het only hope was to get him to untie her-and to run, to try locating Lanthe in this place. If the sisters got close enough to each other, they could communicate telepathically.

Which was a good thing, since Sabine had zero sense of direction. She frowned. But so did Lanthe.

She mentally waved that detail away. They'd figure something out.

So the first step was beguiling Rydstrom to free her. That shouldn't be a problem. Sabine was an enchant­ress. She could seduce him to do her will.

The scene was set: the stars were feverishly bright and the moon heavy. Small ripples in the water below them caught the moonlight, reflecting in patterns of emerald shimmers.

Yes, I can be seductive. The demon wouldn't know what hit him when she turned on the charm.. . .

Once he'd eaten his catch-with exaggerated relish- and cleaned up the food, she waited a bit, commenting on the night and weather, then said, "My arms ache, Rydstrom." She flexed her fists for effect. "They've been asleep for so long."

When he gave her an appraising glance, she probed to read his mind, but he had those blocks firmly in place-

'I have a deal for you," he said. "If you answer any questions I ask, I'll free your arms for an hour."

She just stopped her lips from curling. Well, that was easier than I'd figured. "You have a deal, demon."