Demon Slave (Shadow Quest Book 2)

by Kiersten Fay

  She raised her chin. “Look, we’re going to find a way out of this eventually. Until then, why don’t we just go back to the way we were before...the incident.”

  “You mean when I made you come with a stroke of my tongue?”

  Warmth flooded her cheeks, then between her legs. “I mean before that.”

  “When you were frightened and running from me?”

  Is that what she was doing now? Running from him again? No. What he did was a betrayal. A dark part of her mind wondered if they could still enjoy each other now and end it later.

  Mimicking her thoughts, Marik edged, “Since we know we will be parting ways, why not just use each other for pleasure? As a mated male, I crave it like you wouldn’t believe. And I can tell you’re in need.”

  Her jaw dropped. A nervous laugh bubbled up. “What? I am not.”

  With a knowing curve to his lips, he continued. “Plus, I could use your help.”

  Nadua raised a suspicious bow.

  “As you’re aware, I sort of have a problem with...blacking out during sex.”

  “Quite aware.”

  “Well, once we break the mate bond, I’ll be able to slake myself on other women again.” He paused, watching her.

  Waving him on, Nadua decided not to analyze why the thought of him with another woman pained her.

  “And I don’t want to make the same mistake I made with you. You could help me. Like sexual training.”

  Another woman writhing in ecstasy with his fangs in her flesh?

  “How could I possibly help?”

  “With you, I felt I could have stayed myself, if...” He trailed off.

  “If what?”

  He looked like he was about to say something, then changed his mind. “I think, if I had another shot—”

  “Another shot? Like I’m some kind of game?”

  “No.”

  “You’re just trying to trick me into sleeping with you again.”

  “Why would I need to trick you? You’re dying to sleep with me again.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, I can smell it on you.”

  “You crude...I can’t believe you!”

  “Believe it, luv. You can deny me, but you can’t lie to yourself.”

  He was right, and it pissed her off. But she couldn’t stop from contemplating all the “training” they could get in, until what he called the “mate bond” was broken.

  * * *

  She’s actually considering this.

  Marik hadn’t meant to be so abrasive at the end and was afraid he’d just ruined his chances. He held his breath as he waited for her next response. She fiddled with a lock of her hair. Their eyes met.

  He wanted to throttle the person when, once again, there was a knock on the damn door.

  That old snooty wench, who had looked at him like he was worth less than dirt, greeted Nadua. “Cyrus would like you to join him for drinks before your meal is ready.”

  “That would be lovely.”

  “Yes, lovely.” Marik sneered.

  They both slanted their heads at him.

  Nadua must have registered the determined look on his face because she reluctantly said, “Of course, Marik will be accompanying me.” Then she shot him a look that said he’d better behave.

  As the old woman led the way, he followed behind Nadua, eyes riveted to her smooth open back, the slim arch of her neck, the soft sway of her hips. He needed to get it together, before he forced her back into the room and threw her on top of that convenient bed.

  It became apparent to him that she didn’t understand the power of her easy sensuality, or she wouldn’t be moving her hips in such an enticing way.

  Marik peered over the edge of the balcony and spotted Cyrus, already seated at the large table. He looked regal in his stance. His straight white hair was pulled back from his pale face. He was thin, like most of his kind, yet his arms were defined, peeking out from his tunic.

  Marik smirked at the memory of Nadua slapping the man, as well as the light red mark that still lingered on his face. Did she burn herself as well?

  Concern spiked. He should have asked her before. “Let me see your hand,” he whispered.

  “No.”

  He gripped her wrist and saw her palm was red before she snatched it away. “You’re hurt.”

  “It’s nothing. And it was worth it.”

  Good.

  Cyrus stood at their approach, looking far too happy to see Nadua again. His gaze dipped to her neckline. “It looks beautiful on you.”

  “Thanks,” she replied. And damn it, she blushed.

  He spared Marik a glance and nodded respectfully. A round of drinks were already in place. Three, as though Cyrus had known Marik would be here.

  “Does this have alcohol in it?” Nadua asked.

  Cyrus nodded.

  Nadua claimed her seat and before Marik could stop her, had already taken a generous gulp of her drink.

  Cyrus noted the outraged look on his face.

  Poisons could be easily slipped into drinks. In demon culture, alcohol was imbibed as a ritual when done in the company of strangers. It was considered a sign of trust to take the first sip as a group.

  He didn’t trust these people.

  Still standing, Cyrus lifted his drink, not taking his eyes from Marik. Quirking a brow, Marik did the same. Then they both drank.

  Interesting. Cyrus knew something of his culture.

  Nadua shifted her eyes between them but didn’t mention what she must have thought was a strange exchange between them. Instead, she took another large gulp.

  Marik frowned and sat in the place to her left. Cyrus claimed the spot across from her.

  * * *

  The sweet liquid warmed her belly. Cyrus had remembered her favorite drink, though it was a little light on the alcohol. Right now she could use a good stiff drink.

  Finishing the glass, she wiggled it in the air. “Can I get another, a little stronger?”

  Of course, Marik had something to say. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  She pierced him with an annoyed glare. “You want to know what I think isn’t a good idea?”

  “I can imagine.”

  A moment later, a servant brought her another drink and she put it to her lips. Perfect.

  Then she focused on Cyrus. His eyes were just as clear as she remembered. Before she could ask the millions of questions floating around in her head, he cleared his throat and spoke.

  “What are you doing out here with demons?”

  “Well, the daughter of a noble family was taken by the rebels. Lidian. Do you know her? I thought I heard her name spoken.”

  “I believe so. We raided a rebel group just last week and rescued two females. Lidian and Jusibell.”

  “I will want to speak with them later.

  “Of course.”

  “Well, anyway, I was hunting the rebels when Marik saved my life.” From the corner of her eye, she could see Marik jutting his shoulders back.

  “How? What happened?”

  “Tamir and Nakul were planning to assassinate me.”

  Cyrus took on a dubious expression. “Are you sure? I know them both. And I fought alongside Tamir.”

  “I didn’t want to believe it at first. I really didn’t. But, the more I thought of it, and the more I got to know Marik, I must consider it to be plausible.”

  “You trust these demons then?”

  “With this? I do.”

  With other things? Not so much.

  Cyrus turned to Marik. “I thank you for saving her.”

  “I didn’t do it for you.”

  Nadua shot him a look of warning.

  “Of course not, but I’m no less grateful. She is very important to me.”

  “Am I?” She tried to keep the hurt from entering her tone. “Then why the lies, Cyrus?”

  Looking a little sheepish, Cyrus started to speak but was interrupted by the appearance of Collet. He seemed gratef
ul for it.

  “The evening’s meal is ready, my lord. Shall I serve it now?”

  “Please do,” Cyrus replied.

  Nadua stood. “May I go alert Rex? I’m sure he’s hungry too.”

  “Collet will retrieve him. Please sit.”

  Collet partially hid her surprise at being volunteered for the task. Without a word, she scurried up to the balcony. A few minutes later, Rex was seated on the other side of Marik. He was stiff, and looked to Marik and Nadua for reassurance. Nadua smiled at him. Marik nodded.

  Steaming plates were placed in front of each of them. The smell was glorious.

  Rex started on the food like a beast, using his hands and ignoring the utensils. Marik was a little more refined, but still gripped his fork with his entire fist. Cyrus eyed them with repressed irritation.

  The dish was delicious and it was a relief from their repetitive meals over the last few days. Nadua had her fill and then set her utensils aside, unable to wait any longer.

  “Tell me,” she said. “No more delaying.”

  After draining the last of his drink, Cyrus let out a heavy sigh. “Do you remember what happened between us before I left?”

  “Before you died,” she corrected, and then flushed, knowing exactly what he meant. A week before his death, they had shared a brief moment of passion. While attending a party arranged by one of the nobles, they had ended up spending the entire night together, dancing and drinking in a lonely side room.

  In their inebriated state, they had forgotten what would happen if they kissed. It had been a brief touch, but their lips had been swollen for two days. She smiled, remembering.

  Then she realized Rex had frozen completely in mid scoop. Marik’s fork was bent at an odd angle and the sudden heat rolling of him brought her back from the fond memory.

  Cyrus noticed this too, and watched both demons warily.

  Nadua broke the tense silence. “A week later, Fineas told me you died fighting the rebels.” She couldn’t stop the quiver in her lip. It still hurt to think of it. She’d locked herself away, mourned for months.

  “I’m sorry it hurt you. It hurt me to leave.”

  “Then why did you?”

  His shoulders slumped. “Well, it wasn’t difficult to figure out what we’d done. Fineas summoned me the day after. He thought we were growing too close, and he was right. We could never...” He trailed off.

  A low rumble came from Marik.

  In an attempt to get his attention, Nadua placed her hand on his thigh. Marik quickly covered her hand with his. The action seemed desperate.

  She looked to Cyrus. “Perhaps we should speak about this in private.”

  “Over my bloody dead body,” Marik barked.

  She ground her teeth. “Marik, please don’t—”

  “Actually,” Cyrus interjected. “I would like to speak with Marik alone.”

  Nadua looked up in surprise. “Cyrus, I don’t think—”

  Marik stood, as if ready for battle. “Let’s go.”

  Nadua was too shocked to say anything. Cyrus led Marik out of the room. She turned her wide eyes to Rex, who had resumed the assault on his meal.

  Chapter 23

  Following behind the blue tinted asshole who was far too familiar with his mate, Marik could barely contain his building rage. He had to continue telling himself that Nadua would hate him if he took the life of this bastard.

  Maybe. Probably. Anyway, it wasn’t worth the risk.

  They didn’t walk far. Cyrus led him through a hall that broke off from the main room, and into a rather nice chamber. Books lined one wall. On the opposite side stood a small fire place. A few paintings hung above it, and one in particular caught his attention.

  The woman’s beautiful red locks, flowing freely, were unmistakable. He recognized the slender curve of her shoulder, peaking out of a soft frill gown. There was excitement in her eyes, as though she’d just been laughing. Her breathtaking smile made Marik jealous of whomever it was gifted.

  “I painted that a little after I left her.” Cyrus spoke from behind Marik. “I couldn’t stand not seeing her any longer.”

  “Are you trying to make me kill you?”

  “I know a little bit about your kind. I know you have more honor than we give you credit for.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “I’m hoping.” He paused. “I fought in the demon war long ago. I was there from the beginning. We tried for diplomacy at first, but as often it does, fear and ignorance claimed the masses. Before we knew it, we were at war.”

  Marik kept his back to Cyrus, listening while taking in the happy image of Nadua. She’d smiled at him before, but never like that.

  “One day, I followed a demon into the Caves of Kayata. My brigade had been battling a group of them for days out in the open. We were caught off guard when the cave-in started and we halted our fight to save ourselves. When the dust settled we found we were both trapped inside, and on separate ledges of a deep impassable cavern.”

  To Marik’s surprise, Cyrus chuckled. “After what must have been two days of screaming curses at each other, we got bored and started an actual conversation. He was rather funny. I wish I could remember his name. Well, anyway, I have to believe your kind are honorable because that day the demon and I made a promise to each other. If one side of the cavern was open, we would free the other and go our separate ways without conflict. His was opened first.”

  Marik waited for him to continue.

  “I fully expected him to betray me. Especially since his men were telling him to leave me to die. But he ordered them to dig me out too. He told them simply that he’d made a vow and then they didn’t hesitate.”

  Finally, Marik turned to face Cyrus. “Would you have done the same?”

  Cyrus looked him straight in the eyes. “Without a doubt.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Is Nadua yours?”

  Marik hesitated. “She is.”

  Cyrus shook his head and lowered his gaze. “I love her.”

  Red flooded Marik’s vision. His teeth began to grind, and his claws itched for action.

  “I’ve never told her.” He paused. “And I never will. She is an impossible dream. I know this.”

  “Again, why are you telling me? Why did you bring me here to see this?” Anger marked his tone as he gestured to the exquisite painting.

  “Because I figured you would need proof of my feelings. And so that you would know I will do anything to keep her safe—to put you at ease around me.” His expression was sincere. “Another thing. I find it hard to believe Tamir or Nakul would plot against her. But if they did, I’ll need to find out why. Please, tell me everything you know.”

  Marik hesitated for a moment. Sensing the truth in his words, Marik decided he could trust Cyrus and revealed what he could.

  Cyrus looked saddened by the time he finished. “I will send a message to the palace immediately. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. I’m assuming you’ll be taking Nadua away from Undewla?”

  “That’s the plan.” Marik’s hatred for Cyrus began to dull, replaced in part by pity. He couldn’t imagine never being able to touch Nadua without causing her pain. The mere idea sickened him.

  Cyrus nodded solemnly. “Take care of her.”

  “I intend to.”

  * * *

  Nadua was growing increasingly irritated. Rex had already finished his dinner and was back in his room. Now she sat alone and sipped her drink, feeling the tingle of the alcohol. She debated retiring for the night.

  Finally, Marik and Cyrus returned, both grave and somber.

  “What happened?”

  They claimed their seats and requested refills from a waiting servant.

  Cyrus spoke. “I’ve sent a message to Wren, warning him about Tamir and Nakul.”

  Nadua sighed in relief. “Did you add that I’m here?”

  “I did.”

  “Good.” She was sure ther
e was more to their chat than that, but she was determined to make Cyrus finish his story. “Can you please continue? Why did you feel you had to fabricate your own demise?”

  Cyrus’s lips thinned, but he obliged. “When you first came to this planet, very few were happy about it. Fineas was a strong ally of your Father, so he didn’t hesitate to grant you his protection. But when the news spread, our people were torn. There was great fear that the Kayadon would come here and destroy us to find you. Many are still afraid.”

  The drinks arrived, and both Cyrus and Marik swallowed half their glasses. Nadua took another sip of hers.

  “People fled Sori, looking to hide in case their fears were realized. Fineas truly loved his people, and hated that they were suffering beyond the walls of Sori. So this place was built.”

  He gestured around the room. “A refuge of sorts. But Fineas needed to send someone of the royal blood line to represent the crown, and keep the peace. When he realized how close you and I had become, he decided it would be better for everyone if I disappeared.” He paused. “Fineas understood that if you knew I was alive, you’d come looking for me. And because there was fear in the people who lived here, that wouldn’t have been a good idea. So he told you I died.”

  Tears were streaming down Nadua’s cheeks. She wanted to protest that she wouldn’t have come looking, but that would have been a lie. Cyrus had been her only real friend until Ava was born. He’d been the one to teach her to fight, and to use a bow. How to be strong in the face of the Cyrellians who looked down their noses at her. Living without him had been nearly unbearable.

  “I’ll be leaving soon,” she blurted.

  “I know. Marik told me.”

  The mention of his name reminded her that he was still sitting next to her, surprisingly quiet, though she was crying for another man. His face was almost void of emotion. Only a slight tick in his jaw indicated his mood.

  “I should retire.” She stood and so did the two men. Nadua said good night to Cyrus and, as expected, Marik followed her up to her room.

  A fire had been started in the stone hearth, making the room a comfortable temperature. Inside, she turned to Marik, years of loneliness crashing down upon her. Nadua found herself kissing him, loving the warmth and softness of his lips. She wanted him to dull her mind with his expert touch. But she realized he wasn’t kissing her back.