Blood of the Demon (Kara Gillian 2)

I paused, pen on the paper, throat suddenly tight. My next question had nothing to do with the two bodies.

4) Is there any way to recover essence?

This one was all about my aunt. If there wasn’t a way to recover an essence that had been pulled away, then there was no point in keeping my aunt’s body alive any longer.

That wasn’t something I wanted to dwell on at the moment. I took a steadying breath and kept writing. I had some questions that I was fairly certain Rhyzkahl knew the answers to. I wasn’t sure if I would have the nerve to ask him, but I went ahead and wrote them anyway.

5) What the fuck is a kiraknikahl?

6) Why did Kehlirik react with such hostility toward Ryan?

I looked down at the list, then folded it carefully.

I was going to summon the demonic lord.

I was usually nervous before summonings. There was a considerable amount of danger involved—especially in higher-level summonings—and so it was prudent to be overly cautious and meticulous.

The last time I’d prepared to summon a demonic lord, I’d been scared out of my mind—pretty damn certain that my chances of surviving the ritual were slim. But this time I had his word, albeit via Kehlirik, that there would be no reprisals upon me for summoning him.

A demon’s word was inviolate.

But I was scared shitless anyway. There were plenty of dangers other than the demon itself. I stood at the edge of the diagram, suddenly wishing that I’d had more to eat at lunch and had taken the opportunity to nap earlier. The moon was a day past full, which wouldn’t be an issue with any summoning below eighth or ninth level, but this was a demonic lord. Yet Kehlirik had stated that the moon would be full enough, so I could only hope that Rhyzkahl’s willingness to be summoned would offset the slight reduction in potency.

I took a deep breath, forcing my thoughts into the proper mind-set, and began to chant, shaping my will. The portal wouldn’t open at first and I sought to focus harder, but it was like trying not to think of a pink elephant. The crack formed and began to widen, but I felt sluggish, as if I were swimming through tar. I took another deep breath, seeking that point of my will that would shape the portal to my desire. Slowly, agonizingly, it widened farther, an arcane wind picking up and swirling throughout the room as I sucked air harshly between my teeth. My muscles trembled with the unexpected difficulty I was having with this portal. I hadn’t even named the demon yet, but I wondered if the difficulty was because of who I intended to summon, what I intended to summon. The words and the chants were minor aspects of the ritual, and I had shaped the portal from the beginning with Rhyzkahl in my mind. I’m psyching myself out. That’s a sure way to get killed.

The wind swirled higher as unexpected pain wrapped through me. I bit back a whimper, then gritted my teeth and forced the name out.

“Rhyzkahl.”

The wind died down and the light-filled portal snapped closed. I wanted to sag and drop to my knees, but I didn’t dare show the weakness. My vision cleared and, to my aching relief, I could see the crouched figure in front of me. I held the bindings, trembling, though I knew that if I’d actually brought Rhyzkahl through, they’d be useless. At this point I was hoping and praying to any gods who would pay attention to me that it was Rhyzkahl. He’d given his word not to harm me, but if another demon had somehow come through, I was dead meat. I’d been tired to begin with, and this ritual had been far more draining than I’d expected. Stupid, I railed at myself. Stupid and complacent. Nice way to end up dead.

I heard a soft hiss from the center of the diagram—a susurration that could have been either pleasure or menace. Then he stood, straightening slowly as if settling each vertebra in place, shaking his hair gracefully to ripple in a white-blond fall down his back. It had been weeks since I’d last seen him—tall and muscled and radiating the familiar aura of power and sexiness and unspeakable danger. He wore a white shirt tucked into black breeches that fit closely to his incredibly well-formed ass and legs, and if anything he was more gorgeous and perfect and angelic than before.

“That … was not a pleasant experience,” he snarled, crystal-blue eyes flashing as his gaze rested on me. A frisson of terror shot through me, jerking me out of my appreciation for his physique. I’d been fairly cavalier about summoning him, failing to keep in mind just how powerful an entity he was. I’d done a lousy job of opening the portal, and it had probably been quite painful for him.

I still gripped the bindings even though I knew they were useless against him. He’d brushed them aside like dust the last time. “Lord Rhyzkahl,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. “The reyza Kehlirik told me that you wished me to summon you and … and that you gave your oath that I would not be harmed if I did so.”

He lowered his head and regarded me silently for several nerve-racking heartbeats. Then he smiled, menace disappearing as if it had never existed. “I will keep my oath. Release the bindings, Kara. You know they are useless anyway.”

I gave a shuddering exhalation, releasing my hold on the arcane bindings. They’d been more of a security blanket than anything. Rhyzkahl stepped out of the diagram to approach me. “You are looking far better than the last time I laid eyes on you, dear one.”

The last time he’d laid eyes on me, my bowels were spread out on the floor before me. “I cannot thank you enough for saving me,” I said, inclining my head.

He waved his hand as if brushing the mere idea away. Then he put a finger under my chin and tipped my head up, forcing me to meet his gaze. He looked down at me, deep and ancient eyes searching. I tried to suppress the shudder but wasn’t completely successful. I felt stripped bare.

He released me, frowning now. “Kehlirik warned me of your fatigue. He was not mistaken.”

“I’m fine,” I said, a muscle in my jaw twitching.

He lifted a silky eyebrow. “I gave you a chance to live and now you will throw that gift away? Most insulting.”

Great, now he was starting in on me too. I scowled. “No insult is intended. I haven’t slept much lately, and I have a lot going on at work.” I took a deep breath and tried to regain a measure of control. “You bade me summon you. I have done so. What is it you want of me?”

“Direct as always. I admire that. So different from the demon realm, with its endless scheming and intrigue.”

“There’s plenty of that here too. I can’t stand it. So what do you want?” My tone was more sour than I’d intended, but he just smiled again and turned away. He stepped to the cold and unlit fireplace. I sure as hell wasn’t going to light a fire in the middle of summer in south Louisiana. He trailed a hand over the back of the armchair, then looked back at me.

“I wish you to be mine,” he said.