Kiss of a Demon King (22 page)

34

Y
ou can save them?” the hand-wringing woman said.

At Sabine’s earnest nod, she finally freed her hands and untied her ankle.

Sabine massaged her wrists with a mean smile.
Idiot!
At once, she stripped off the ridiculous blouse but left the corset, using her power to make it look like a metal breastplate. She imagined a bold headdress and collar, weaving the image over her, then used illusions to paint her face and plait her hair.

“Sabine, you must hurry!”

“Must I?” She stalked up to the woman. “Don’t you ever call me by my given name again! I’m Rydstrom’s queen—
your
queen. We’re married whether he wants to admit it or not.” She started away from the commotion, saying over her shoulder, “All the best with that.”

The demoness hurried after her, with her eyes watering. “B-but you said…”

“Look, is it really my place to save the lives of people stupid enough to run into a canyon and get cornered by a dragon? Yes, I’m egotistical, but who am
I
to challenge natural selection?” It wasn’t her fight—

“Ai-bee!” a small voice echoed in the distance.

Sabine stilled. Puck was among the trapped demons. The little punk, who didn’t have the sense not to be dragon food, had just called her name.

Which meant he’d just made her situation into one of two options: self-loathing if she risked her neck to save him
or
a bad day if the punk died. She exhaled. Maybe even worse than a bad day.

Turning toward the chaos, she muttered to herself, “I can’t believe
I
’m doing this.”

The woman clasped her hands to her chest. “Oh, thank you!”

In answer, Sabine lunged at her and snapped her teeth. “In
no
way am I doing this for
your
thanks.” Then she carried on.
So stupid…so bloody stupid.

Yes, Sabine had the ability to talk to animals.

But what if the big bastard didn’t
want
to chat?

“I…didn’t remember,” Rydstrom told Durinda.
And I still don’t.
But Sabine had voiced her suspicion of exactly this, and he’d vehemently denied it. Which meant he’d unintentionally lied to her.

“Well, this certainly is uncomfortable.” Durinda stared straight ahead. “It was centuries ago, and I understand there were…many.”

Had the demoness been trying to rekindle an affair? He’d assumed she’d just been kind to help him familiarize himself with the place. He’d thought she’d merely enjoyed reminiscing. “It was indeed long ago.”

They rode on in onerous silence, but when they reached the rise over the camp, he found a scene that defied description.

In full Sorceri regalia, Sabine appeared to be muttering to herself as she shoved people out of her way while storming toward a
dragon
. The beast was poised to attack a cornered group—with Puck among them.

Drawing his sword as he spurred his horse, Rydstrom charged down the hill toward her. He’d never reach them in time.

When Sabine neared the beast, she yelled for its attention. Rydstrom’s heart dropped when it rounded on her in a rippling flash of muscle and crackling scales.

“No!”
he bellowed. “Get away!”

The beast hissed, darting its forked tongue. Yet she faced it with her chin up and shoulders back, raising her palms. Heat blurred the air above her hands. When it swept its paws, she leapt over them, then ducked under its swatting tail. “Hey! That was close! Stop this
now
!”

The beast slowed its tail, seeming to glower in confusion.

Rydstrom dismounted his horse in a full run. As he closed in on them, he could hear her talking to the dragon. She’d said she could speak to animals. Could she hold it off?

“That’s better. You don’t want to feed upon me,” she murmured. “Though I
am
the tenderest, I’m also poisonous.” She chuckled as if at an inside joke. “Don’t be cross with us, great one.” She cautiously reached up and petted its gleaming scales. It jerked back, yet then allowed another stroke. “We didn’t know this was your home.” The beast chuffed air.

Sabine glanced at Rydstrom, her eyes glowing bright in her mask of kohl. “Do you think it could eat me in one bite?”

“Move away from it!”

“So you can strike this exceptional fellow down?”

“To protect you, yes!” Rydstrom hated the idea of killing one such as that, but he readily would.

“I’ve got this. Luckily, one person here had the sense to free me—against your orders.”

Could
she control it? He didn’t want her in jeopardy, but she looked as if she was having…
fun
. He motioned for those cornered to begin slipping out.

The beast tensed. “Keep talking,” Rydstrom muttered to her as he helped Puck and another away. Almost everyone had escaped.

Sabine continued, “Confession time, dragon. One night last summer, when my sister Lanthe and I were really bored, we almost sent all the creatures from Grave Realm through a portal to a place called
Times Square
. We’ve since seen why that would be hilarious only to
us
.”

The creature’s eyelids were growing heavy, as if it were mesmerized. When all the people were a safe distance away, Rydstrom lowered his sword.

Instead of escaping when she’d been freed, Sabine had voluntarily waded into a
dragon’s
way to save others. She’d told him she’d never help another if there was no benefit to herself. Yet now she
had
…

“
Cwena,”
he murmured, his chest tight with pride.
Little queen.

The way she was interacting with the beast was the most remarkable thing he’d ever seen—it looked powerless not to be enthralled by her.

We’ve that in common, dragon.

“Would you allow us a night or two longer here?” she asked the dragon.

In answer, it chuffed hot breath at her again, then turned its immense body to stalk off into the night.

People cheered. At once, Puck ran for Sabine in that headlong way the young did.

Yet she didn’t kneel and open her arms to embrace the boy. She snatched him up by his belt and carried him like an accessory, berating him for not fleeing from things that have fangs bigger than his body. And the child looked as if he couldn’t have been happier.

All around her, people rushed forward to express gratitude.

She negligently waved her free hand at them, muttering, “Yeah, yeah. Say it with gold.”

Even Durinda thanked her as she collected Puck.

When Sabine approached Rydstrom, he was at a loss for words.

“If you think about binding my arms again,” she began, “I’ll call my big friend down here once more, and he will go off his newly restricted diet.” She continued on, ignoring him.

Sabine had told him,
“Lonely demon. You need me so much.”

He feared she was right.

35

F
or two days, his female had free run of the camp, wreaking utter havoc.

The once reviled sorceress could do no wrong in the eyes of the demons here—and she was taking full advantage of that fact.

When a group of young females had asked her what one should name her horse, she’d answered, “I like the sound of Fellatio.”

When Rydstrom had confronted Sabine about it, she’d said, “Do you know how priceless it was to hear that demoness sigh,
‘I love my Fellatio’
? Even gold can’t buy moments like that!”

At his unbending look, she’d rolled her eyes. “The
young
female was nineteen. And if she doesn’t know what the word means by now, then she has bigger problems than what to name her pony.” She’d added, “You ridiculed the fact that I remained purposely ignorant of your language because my kind finds it uncouth. But isn’t that exactly what the females of your kingdom do about sex?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, unable to deny her reasoning.

And she’d made many
decrees
. For the vintner to mix a sweeter wine for her. For the smithy to begin work on her crown and new breastplate. For a cook to prepare vegetarian dishes.

Puck followed her everywhere. Luckily, he couldn’t understand her when she said things like, “Is it still behind me? Why won’t it stop following me? It’s looking at me again, isn’t it? I can
feel
its little eyes on me.”

Though she acted as if she didn’t care for Puck’s company, Rydstrom had spied her sit on a bench and pat the space beside her for the boy to sit. He’d also seen her brush Puck’s hair out of his eyes.

Each time, she’d seemed to startle herself, glancing around guiltily—as if her kindness was improper. In her old world, it would have been.

As for Rydstrom, he couldn’t spend enough time with her—literally. She avoided him.

She’d demanded her own tent, refusing to share his. The night of the basilisk’s attack, he’d found her in the bluffs high above the camp to thank her for saving the lives of his people—and to indicate that she was still to sleep with him.

She’d told him, “My subjects have provided me with a new place. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve had a taxing day saving all of these refugees, my subjects and all—since I am their queen, even if you let them think I’m a lowly sex slave.”

“They don’t any longer.”

“I deduced that when they started with the obeisance and gifts and all. They adore me. Coins will be minted with my face on them. It’s in the works.”

Sabine had refused to budge. Rydstrom allowed this because she remained here. If she stayed, he thought they might have a future.

Did Rydstrom go out of his way to see her? Every damned minute that he could. He was searching for her this very afternoon. She wasn’t at the hot springs, nor at the particular bluff where she liked to sit.

But from that height, he spied her playing dice down in the camp, gambling with others. When Rydstrom sank down to watch her, something sharp jabbed him. A basilisk scale? He peered around him and found more strewn about. Had she been sitting up here
with
the dragon?

He ran a hand over his side, over the tattoo. All those years ago, Rydstrom had been marked with the image of this beast, never knowing that a sorceress would captivate both a dragon—and a demon.

Now she was laughing as she played dice, likely saying outlandish things. But her companions always thought she jested. They were awed by her beauty and mysterious air, by the illusions of gold that gleamed on her and the bold paint that masked her face.

They simply thought she was a merry queen—that one did not
ever
want to anger.

As Sabine could make the dice appear to be anything she wanted, she was doubtless bilking others of their gold. He suspected Sabine was stockpiling her winnings in a secret location—

He heard someone approaching…
Durinda
. They hadn’t spoken more than a couple of words since her revelation, and he grew tense.

“They love her now,” she said, sitting beside him. “Amazingly. You know she still calls the children
spawn
and uses the pronoun
it
when referring to any of them.” She made her voice like Sabine’s—condescending and unamused—as she said, “‘
It
smells fusty…If
it
wants to give me your family’s savings, then who are you to naysay?’”

Before Rydstrom could defend Sabine, she said, “
But
she is actually behaving like a queen. An unorthodox one to be sure, but a queen just the same.”

“
You
believe that?”

Durinda nodded. “Sabine had the power to fend off a dragon, and made the choice to protect these people. And she’s told the girls—the ones that she confused terribly about horse monikers—that she would give an educational class on…things of that nature. Yes, she did ask for gold in return, but one could argue that was merely
taxes
for government services. If given authority, she would enact social change.”

He recalled what Sabine had said about the ignorance of the women, the medieval state of Rothkalina, the lack of infrastructure.

“And she’s right about the fighting,” Durinda continued quietly. “It
can
solve problems. We lived in a genteel society where we weren’t as strong as we could have been. And when we were defeated, we were wholly unprepared for centuries of tyranny.” She met his gaze. “Do you think Sabine would rest if she perceived her kingdom to be vulnerable?”

Never. He couldn’t ask for a fiercer queen.

“You know, it’s given me hope,” she said. “If two people as unlikely as you and Sabine can be mates, then maybe the male I’m journeying to wed is the right one. I am optimistic.”

This relieved Rydstrom greatly. He felt himself relaxing around her once more. “Do you think your new husband will allow you to keep Puck?”

“I do hope so. Because if not, your queen has offered to take him.”

His brows shot up. “What?”

“She told me, ‘I’ll be taking that demon boy person.’ When I reminded her that Puck wasn’t her pet, she rolled her eyes at me and said, ‘Hellooo, that’s what I’m trying to
remedy
.’”

He felt his lips quirk.

“Interestingly, Puck found gold under his pillow in exchange for his tooth. I suspect she made herself invisible and slipped in our tent, though she vehemently denied involvement and called me a name I won’t repeat here. Puck is beyond ecstatic.”

Rydstrom had already accepted that he needed Sabine. He hadn’t dared hope his kingdom would embrace her like this.

Maybe she was exactly what Rothkalina needed. Fate
had
gotten it right.

There were only two problems. First, Sabine wasn’t truly his queen. And after she learned that he’d deceived her, she wouldn’t be likely to forgive him. Secondly, Rydstrom planned to slay her brother at the earliest opportunity.

He’d considered talking to her about Omort, the future, and the fact that there would soon be a war—Rydstrom anticipated striking this spring. But for now, he’d decided it would be better just to get her to New Orleans, back to his home before she could bolt.

“I also came here to tell you that the portal keepers have begun arriving for tomorrow,” Durinda said. “They come with information—the Lore is abuzz with tales of your brother claiming the sword from Groot the Metallurgist. Our Cadeon has succeeded.”

“Any word of how he’s done this?”

Durinda shook her head. “Not yet.”

Two weeks ago, Rydstrom wouldn’t have given a damn
how
. But now he feared Cadeon had turned over his own woman for it.

Rydstrom had expected his brother not only to betray his female, but to hand her over to a madman bent on breeding with her—and Cadeon might actually have done it for the sake of the kingdom.

Rydstrom’s gaze was transfixed on Sabine.
If so, he’s a stronger man than I am.

Sabine had an urgent decision to make.

For the past two nights, she’d adored sitting up on the bluff, keeping time with the dragon, gazing out at her sleeping subjects, and watching the silhouette of Rydstrom as he paced in his tent for her to return.

But the portals were opening at noon, mere hours away, and she still hadn’t decided if she was going with him.

As she gazed down at him readying his people, with his shoulders back and looking so
kingly,
Sabine debated her course of action. She was free and could easily escape. But those same worries about traversing Grave Realm and what she could expect from Omort plagued her.

And more, she was only a day away from getting into Rydstrom’s house, into his life. By all accounts, Cadeon was ever closer to the sword. Maybe Sabine should journey with Rydstrom just in time to collect that sword for herself? Lanthe would get her message and come for her in Louisiana, providing her escape well before the morsus was supposed to hit in twelve days. And ultimately, the sisters might have their queendom…

Or maybe she and Lanthe should ally with Rydstrom? Sabine had told him she’d always be on the winning side, and now the tides were turning. Rydstrom
looked
like a warrior king who could defeat Omort. If the rage demons could get the sword, the balance could swing decidedly in their favor.

But if Sabine allied with Rydstrom, there would be more to deal with than mere war and destruction. The demon wanted her…affection.

He wanted a future with her—her
entire
future. This eternity idea had her spooked. She hadn’t even been out on a real date, had never seen the same male twice, and now she was supposed to promise her eternity to a demon she’d known for only weeks?

There were actually times that she’d been tempted to. When she recalled those interludes in the wild when he’d caressed and licked her body, teasing her to a fever pitch again and again, she no longer grew outraged—she grew aroused. She longed for him to touch her, even to bed her again.

And then, over the last two nights when she’d woken alone, sleepily hunting for his big warm chest, she’d thought,
Why not try whatever he was offering?

So what to do? What to plot
?

Just then, Sabine realized that Rydstrom caught sight of her. As if he sensed she was considering running, he’d had his gaze on her all morning. His brows were drawn, a question in his eyes.

In answer, she gave him a lewd hand gesture. He grinned.

Oh, my.
Sabine had never seen him smile. And it was
divine
. She frowned down at her chest.
What was that?
Why, that might have been a tender feeling.

He started toward her, and she couldn’t say she was broken up about that. When he reached her on the bluff, he sat beside her. “It will soon be time to leave, Sabine,” he said. “I never formally asked you before, but will you come with me to my home—our home—in Louisiana?”

“Do you have gold there?” she asked.

“No, but I could get some.”

“Are you rich?”

“In that realm, if you’re an immortal, you’d have to be an idiot
not
to be.”

“Is your house nice and big?”

“
Our
house is a showplace, a mansion built centuries ago in a district known for its gardens. I’ve always taken pride in it—it’s one of the most expensive and coveted in the city.” He seemed eager for her to see it.

“You’re not used to having to ask for things,” she observed. “Is it difficult to ask me to come with you?”

He shook his head. “It might have been. If I didn’t want you to so damned badly.”

Sabine had once heard that Cadeon was the smooth talking brother of the two, but she thought Rydstrom’s gruff admissions were much more intense and meaningful than any smooth talking could be.

“
Why
do you want this so badly? Because I’m fated to be yours?”

“No, because I know we can have something more between us.”

She gazed into his green eyes and saw honesty—and desire. He wanted her, and he wanted her to see how much. She couldn’t seem to look away.

“If you come with me, you won’t regret it.”

And if she
didn’t
see where this could lead with Rydstrom, she might wind up regretting it for the eternity he wanted from her.

“I will, then,” she finally said. “But I have some conditions.” When he waved her on in that kingly way of his, she said, “The parity is done. We start this as equals.”

“Agreed. As long as we start this.”

“And I will only commit to six days with you. After that we’ll reconvene.”

“Why only six days?”

“Six is my favorite number,” she lied.

“No, it’s not.”

“You’re right. But it’s still my condition.”

“Anything else?”

“We never speak of Omort during this time.”

After a hesitation, he nodded, then said, “I have some as well. You’ll have to be honest with me.”

“I will be, as much as I can.”

“Sabine…”

“Look, that’s a really big concession for someone like me to make.”

He exhaled. “You have to give this thing between us a fair try. Can you do that,
cwena
?” He stroked his thumb over her cheek.

Sabine frowned just as he grinned. She hadn’t flinched.