Kiss of a Demon King (Immortals After Dark 7)

"You won't wear them when you're with me."

She bit her tongue. "If you won't free me, then I need you to go fetch my collar and headdress for me."

"Go fetch?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Not a chance, princess."

"But you have to!"

He stormed over to both, swooping them up. "What is so bloody important about them? They almost made you drown!" He twisted around to lob them into the water.

She shrieked, "No!" But it was too late. They were gone.

Her breath left her, and she rocked on her feet. Gold is life . . . The smooth water surface had erased them from the earth, like they'd never existed. Her bottom lip trembled, but she could do nothing to hide it, not emotionally, not mystickally.

"Come, then," he said, his voice gruff.

As he took her arm, she gazed over her shoulder. "I can't believe you did that." Losing gold to another was one thing, but to throw it away . . . ? Incomprehensible. "There's no excuse. None."

"It's worthless out here."

"Not worthless, you oaf! Those pieces protected my Head and neck!"

"Then you'll have to depend on me to do their job!" When he drew her along, she trudged forward in stony silence....

After that, hours passed without event. She found his green eyes constantly on her. He was becoming more attentive, helping her over rough patches in the ter­rain, holding her arm to steady her. But he still wouldn't release her bindings.

And any time she tried to convince him to let her go, he threatened the gag. She wondered how real that threat was, because he clearly wanted to talk to her

today-but only about one topic. He kept asking her how many times she'd died.

Finally she said, "Why do you care? Does it soften you to know terrible things were done to me when I was a girl?"

"I... don't know. Do you want my sympathy?"

She shrugged. "I don't deserve your sympathy." Though this could have been a maudlin statement, she said it as if it was a fact of life. Because it was.

"The strand of white in your hair. I've heard of that occurring when someone knows fear so bad, it shocks their system. What happened to you, Sabine? Did Omort hurt you?"

"He's never hurt me." Physically.

"You are still loyal to him?"

She couldn't tell the demon as much as she wanted to, or needed to. She couldn't tell Rydstrom how she hated her half brother, or how much she agreed with Rydstrom-that Omort had to be killed. Anything she said now could be seen by Omort later when they were recaptured. Her brother would force the demon to open his mind. And my betrayal would be there, plain for Omort to see.

"He's protected Lanthe and me for many years," she hedged. "And besides, should I be loyal to you over him? You keep me bound, risking my life in this danger-ous place. At least he cherishes my life. He'll be coming for me."

"I look forward to that."

"Speaking of loyalty-why would Lothaire betray

Omort for you anyway? Had you two been working together all this time?"

"The vampire wanted something I could give him, and we bargained for my freedom."

"He's the one who traced us out here?" At Rydstrom's curt nod, she said, "When would he ever have had a reason to be in Grave Realm before?"

Rydstrom shrugged. "He said he knew much about the kingdom."

"Is that so? Then maybe he could've gotten us closer to a portal instead of making us tromp through this gods forsaken place."

"The portal openers move constantly. Suck it up, sorceress."

When she stumbled once more, she said, "Demon, come on!"

"Unless you can tell me another way to render you powerless, the bindings stay."

"What if I vowed not to use my power?"

"Your vow?" He gave a cruel laugh. "You'd be gone in seconds."

"You said there'd be parity, but it's not like I tortured you. I never physically harmed you, yet you're killing me out here."

"Under your care," he sneered the word, "I had my spine severed and a hole punched in my chest."

"That wasn't my fault-I saved your life." Her expression lit with realization. "You're most upset about the three who bathed you, aren't you? I'd thought you might like it!"

"No-you-didn't."

She nodded easily. "Okay, that was a lie. But I didn't think you'd hate it, per se." When he narrowed his gaze, she said, "Yes, yes, that might be a lie as well."

"How would you feel if I had three women bathe you?"

She quirked a brow. "Like I was on a date gone well. And actually, according to your parity rule, you have to arrange for it. And they have to be ravishing, because I sent you choice Inferi-and they were all volunteers, believe me."

He snapped, "This is exactly why I will not do that to you-if it's not punishment to you, then it won't be like for like." He increased his pace.

"What exactly does your parity involve again?" she asked, hurrying to keep up. "I'm unclear."

He stopped and turned so suddenly she almost ran into him. Gazing down at her, he said, "You will have one more night where I am going to make you scream with need-unless you beg me to ease you. After that I won't take you again until you say, 'I beg you to claim me. I need you as my master and surrender my will to yours.' And Sabine, I can wait as long as it takes. You will lose if you match swords with me in a battle of wills."

"As long as it takes? Exactly how long are you plan­ning to keep me? When will you release me?"

He gave her a strange expression-part possessive, part aggressive. His eyes turned sharply from green to jet-black. "I won't."

26

Over the long day, the landscape gradually trans­formed again. The thickening underbrush tangled at their feet, and wind-whipped trees filled crowded groves. Rivers carved through plateaus, with cliffs over­looking all.

He and Sabine continued to ascend, crossing one shallow stream after another.

: She glared at every bramble, glared at the sun blazing overhead, glared at him whenever he helped her drink from the canteen.

Rydstrom couldn't stop thinking about what he'd learned this morning. Where had he been five hundred years ago when Sabine had been unprotected and tor­tured?

Maybe if he'd been able to let go of his quest for the crown and had searched for her instead, he could have spared her this. My female, slashed like that as a mere girl

Had she been afraid? Had she known what was about to befall her?