Kiss of a Demon King (Immortals After Dark 7)

"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 br**sts.

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."

28

"This wasn't part of the deal!" the sorceress screeched when Rydstrom waded into the pool. "You didn't say anything about water!"

Though he cupped her ass, holding her up, she'd locked her legs tightly around his waist. Gods, she fit into his palms like she'd been made for him to hold her like this.

He was headed to a rock island he'd spied from aloft. Situated in the middle of the pool, it had a shallow bar circling it and was surrounded by deep water. "I won't untie you anywhere else. This way you won't use your illusions to escape me-unless you want to swim back by yourself."

"Swim! I've told you I can't swim! I don't like deep water!"

"Exactly." Earlier, when he'd told her his intention, she'd tried to fight him, tussling against him as he'd stripped her. But to no avail. He had an agenda and wouldn't be moved from it.

This morning, he'd realized that to win some kind of affection from the sorceress, he would have to change his tactics with her.

When he'd gone hunting, he'd recalled that dream of his yet again. And he'd mused that if Bowen had used his head to win his witch, Rydstrom would do no less for Sabine. He would figure out how to make it work between them.

But first he had to understand her to determine the right way to garner her affection. To do that, he needed to earn her trust.

The puzzle of her . . . the challenge of them . . . Ryd­strom was up for it-and he was committed.

Once he'd waded in up to his chest, she cried, "Go back, go back! What if you slip?" She was quaking.

"I won't slip, sweet. Look, we're here." The pool grew shallow again. At the island, he set her to her feet in knee-high water.

Her gaze darted all around her. "You can't understand how horrific I find this."

Probably as horrific as I'd found my court.

"Sit there." He pointed to a long, low rock. When she reluctantly did, he sat behind her, untying only the line that went between her rope cuffs. He set it beside him, keeping it within easy reach.

At once, she stretched her arms above her head, turning them this way and that. "What about these?" she asked, scratching at the rope still on her wrists.