"I know the reason why," Gavril drew designs into his coverlet with a finger. He'd read my mind, just as the others could.
"Why?" I was staring at him, now.
"Aurelius asked them not to," Gavril admitted reluctantly. "He was afraid you'd skip away and he might not be able to get you back."
"Holy crap," I repeated Gavril's statement from before.
"Exactly," Gavril muttered.
* * *
"Don't you think he ought to ask her at least?" Lissa had her hands on her hips, glaring at Jayd and Garde.
"If he explains it in detail, she may object," Garde pointed out.
"Karzac and the Larentii have already volunteered to do for her what was done for your nieces, Gardevik Rath," Lissa shook a finger at her High Demon mate. "They don't remember any part of this. Their mates still feel guilty, but then you all should."
"A High Demon should always feel guilt over that," Kifirin said.
"You should feel guilt for making them that way," Lissa turned on Kifirin.
"Yes, but the deed is done and I cannot go back and unmake it," Kifirin huffed.
"Uh-huh. You and those High Demons of yours can kiss my ass."
"Love, you cannot mean that, but I think I can get most of them to volunteer." Kifirin was smiling.
"Aurelius wants time with her first—the full moon comes in three weeks, you know. Norian is hopeful that we can bring them home, soon. Rylend has made some contacts—he knows who is buying now, but hasn't gotten the supplier's name yet. We hope to have that soon," Garde said. Aurelius didn't object to Garde's son being the High Demon who claimed Reah—he just wanted Reah to be comfortable with it. Jayd and Garde wanted to keep the information from her until after the deed was done—they were afraid she'd balk if it were explained to her.
"Have you talked with our son?" Lissa hadn't talked to Tory since he'd admitted to both his parents that his Thifilathi wanted Reah.
"I talked with him yesterday," Garde admitted. "He's worried that he'll scare her so badly she'll not want anything to do with him."
"I didn't want anything to do with you afterward, and I knew what was coming," Lissa snapped.
"But I apologized and you still love me," Garde grinned.
"Don't remind me—it's one of my failings," Lissa said.
"Avilepha, don't say that," Garde breathed smoke on Lissa's neck after he pulled her against him.
* * *
"Are you going to tell Ry and Tory?" Gavril asked as he watched me pour the cream, chocolate sauce and redberry sauce into the cake batter.
"And let them poke holes in my theory? They'll just laugh at me, like the Vice Director did." I wasn't up to dealing with that kind of rejection right then.
"I don't think the Vice-Director laughed—he doesn't laugh very often," Gavril observed.
"Well, restrained ridicule, then," I said, lifting the large cake pan and sliding it into the oven.
"Restrained ridicule—I think I like that phrase. Maybe I can use it in one of my reports," Gavril beamed.
"Want some tea or something else to drink?" I asked my helper. He was done with his lessons for the day. Ry, Tory and I had been invited to the birthday party at Desh's. I'd said to send my apologies, telling them I had a headache. Truthfully, just the thought of going to Desh's number one made my head hurt.
"We'll tell you what they served," Tory had grinned at me and rubbed my neck. Ry and Tory had then gone out to buy something to wear for the occasion while Gavril and I baked the cake.
* * *
"Dad doesn't want to tell her, Mom does," Tory's breath blew out in front of him as he walked beside his brother.
"But that sucks—just letting her wake up with your claiming marks on her neck?" Ry glanced up at his taller sibling.
"Don't remind me. Oh, I want them there, don't get me wrong," Tory hunched his shoulders against the Tulgalan winter. "But I want to talk to her first—explain things a little. Dad doesn't want to give her any opportunity to refuse. Aurelius doesn't mind—he just said he doesn't want her to suffer. They've already made arrangements to do the anesthetic and aftercare. I did find out from Uncle Jayd that they wanted to offer her to one of the others—from Weth or Foth, I think. Kifirin said no. He said someone else was coming. It turned out to be me."
"Well, if anybody would know, it would be Kifirin."
"Yeah."
* * *
"That looks good enough to eat." Ry examined the cake after I'd frosted it. It was going into the keeper—I'd put the berries and drizzle on just before it would be cut. Ry and Tory had brought the ice cream—they'd had to go back to Le-Ath Veronis to get what they called the real thing, but it was stowed inside the freezer, waiting to be served with the cake.
"It better be good enough to eat," I sighed. "And Gavril and Master Morwin want a piece, so try to save some, all right?" I was going to finish the cake when Tory sent the message that they were on their way from Desh's, then hide in my room. I was supposed to have a headache, after all. Ry was going to try to get the name of the seller for the drakus seed—rumor had it that someone would bring the drug with them. Morwin was going to stay in Gavril's room, to make sure Chash was kept safe. I'd suggested that he be sent home but Ry, Tory and Gavril had all protested.
"If we have to bring the squirt out to make us seem harmless, then we'll do it,"
Ry had sighed. Gavril had been bouncing on his toes when his older brothers said he could stay.
* * *
We're on our way, Tory sent the message later. Gavril was in the kitchen with me, watching as I placed fresh berries, mint sprigs and the chocolate and berry drizzle over the cake before sliding it back into the keeper.
"Come on, Chash—they could be here any minute." I hooked my arm with his and pulled him toward the bedrooms.
"Come and stay with me and Master Morwin," Gavril begged. That's how I ended up in his bedroom. Morwin was reading something on a comp-vid in the corner, so Gavril and I sat on Gavril's bed to play a vid-game. We'd been at it for nearly a click when the knock came on the door. Gavril gave me a hopeful look before hopping off the bed to answer it. What I wasn't expecting was to see Inis with Tory at the door.
"Pleading a headache so you wouldn't have to come out with us?" Inis was already drunk. I was surprised he was able to stand, he was so inebriated.
"I did have one earlier," I made the excuse. I wasn't lying—I had felt a twinge of a headache over all this—worrying that Gavril shouldn't have stayed.
"What's going on?" Wyatt was suddenly behind Inis and Tory—he'd been in his bedroom until now.
"We wanted Gavril to come out and have some cake," Tory said. Well, somebody had gotten suspicious, I figured.
"And Reah should come, too," Inis announced. "She can have cake with me." He hiccupped rudely.
"Reah, come on," Tory said. "Since you don't have a headache now." I blinked at him. Yes—I was coming—if only to make sure Gavril didn't see anything he shouldn't, or be exposed to any drugs, especially something as dangerous as drakus seed.
"Come on, Chash, let's go have cake." I slid off the bed and draped an arm on Gavril's shoulder. Inis tried to take my hand when we walked out the door, but Wyatt managed to get in his way. Inis grumbled all the way to the kitchen.
"Here are the cousins," Tory announced when we walked into the kitchen. I stopped dead still when I recognized four people I shouldn't have. Nods was there—there was no mistaking him—and he stared at me, his mouth working silently for a few ticks before he could get the words out. When they did come, he was screaming them.
"Treachery!" He shouted, before raising a ranos pistol and firing.
Chapter 16
Bel, Max and Hish were there and disguised, but I could see right through that. Bel had leapt toward Nods to keep him from firing, but the pistol had already discharged, straight toward Gavril and me. I barely had time to flip Gavril aside as the ranos blast tore through my right shoulder. I think I screamed as I was hit. Chao
s came right behind that shot as Ry and Wyatt engaged in a battle with the former Ranger wizards. Tory had turned somehow, into a shorter version of his Thifilathi. I barely had time to register that fact as I whimpered in pain and tried to shove Gavril toward the back of the kitchen. Inis, Silva, Danthus and ten others were shouting and attempting to rush from the kitchen. Nods, the fool, began shooting recklessly. I saw Jeno go down, a huge hole in his chest. Two more died as Nods kept shooting and shouting.
"Get down," I shouted to Gavril, who was struggling in my grip. Master Morwin was there suddenly and helping me push Gavril beneath the stone-topped kitchen island. Nods was still shooting. Wizard blasts were shooting around us, too, although they didn't touch either Gavril or me—they bounced off the shield I had, ricocheting and knocking large holes in the ceiling and the walls. I shoved Gavril beneath the island again so he'd be protected from falling debris; he'd attempted to escape. The ceiling and one of the walls was now on fire and the fire sprinklers had activated, quickly drenching everything and everyone inside the kitchen. I heard Nods scream, so I poked my head up to see if he'd been hit.
Tory, in his small Thifilathi, had Nods by the throat and was squeezing. "No, Tory," I shouted, "Don't kill him—we need to question him!" I started running toward Tory, although my shoulder felt as if it were on fire. "Tory, no!" I shouted again at him as smoke poured from his nostrils. Tory, in his smaller Thifilathi, was dark-skinned, with a broad face. He had short horns, too, that curved around, like a ram's might. He was terrifying like that. Ry and Wyatt were shouting at the Ranger wizards to give up. Of course they sent more blasts—Bel's talent, I knew. Ry sent one of his own back, blowing an entire wall out of the kitchen.
Cold air from the outside came pouring through the gaping hole and people nearby were screaming, now. I heard constabulary sirens off in the distance while Tory was still trying to kill Nods. I didn't think the average citizens who might now see into our apartment needed to see a High Demon like this.
"Tory!" I shouted again. I couldn't move my right arm—the ranos pistol had hit me high in the right shoulder. That part of my body was now pain-filled and useless. I had to pound Tory on the back with my left hand—he was just about to squeeze the life from Nods. He turned his head after a tick or two, blowing smoke and looking down at me. "Let him go," I shouted over the din of the wizard's battle going on around us. Tory had the same shield I did—the spells and blasts were bouncing off both of us.
Tory blew more smoke as he stared at me for a few moments, then dropped Nods as if he suddenly held no interest. I wasn't expecting what came next. Tory snatched me up instead, and if I'd ever wondered if he could skip while Thifilathi, well, that answer turned out to be yes.
"Tory," I whimpered; he'd crushed my body against his and my right arm and shoulder hurt horribly. "Tory, put me down." I didn't know where we were—somewhere in the middle of a field. Tall grasses surrounded us and mountains in the distance shone brightly on a moonlit night. I had to start beating on Tory's chest, although I didn't think he even felt it—the scales of his Thifilathi were thick and hard. He thundered through the grass, running swiftly until he reached a spot—I have no idea why he chose that particular one. I was dropped there.
"Tory, I need a physician," I begged. I blinked pitifully up at him from my seat on the ground. He'd dumped me on my backside, and I now cradled my right arm against me, trying not to cry, it hurt so badly. He blew more smoke, then leaned down and casually ripped my shirt away.
I must have screamed again—I nearly blacked out with the pain it caused—having the right arm jerked like that when he tore off my shirt. I didn't have enough sense to get up and try to run, though it wouldn't have done any good, I'm sure. He'd told me once that his Thifilathi wanted me. When he reached for me and flipped me onto my belly, I discovered the reality of that statement.
* * *
"Where's Reah?" Gavril shouted at Ry, Wyatt, Vice-Director Schaff and half a dozen ASD operatives. Bodies of the dead that Nods had shot with his ranos pistol littered what was left of the apartment—Ry and Wyatt had gotten the better of Bel and the others, who were now subdued and held inside a spelled cage.
"Where is Reah? Where's Tory?" Lendill Schaff finally had the sense to ask—caging the wizards and getting medical attention for Nods had come first—he had questions to ask of that captive.
"Reah got shot," Gavril shouted. "She needs help—where is she?"
"I think Tory took her—he, uh, changed," Ry admitted, only now realizing just how dangerous a thing that might turn out to be. "Get Mom, and ask her to bring Uncle Garde," Ry sat down and rubbed his forehead. He was in complete exhaustion—he hadn't wanted to deliver any killing blows—Lendill and Norian wanted live bodies to question. The wizards he and Wyatt had fought turned out to be more powerful than he might have guessed.
* * *
There comes a time when pain can be so intense and debilitating that you cannot form words or even whimper. That was my condition—Tory's lengthened canines were in the back of my neck and I was now in the worst imaginable agony. Only my left hand worked and I was clawing at the soft soil beneath me. I know—the strangest things can register on your mind in a sort of detachment—grass had been pulled up by the handfuls as I endured the bite—the long blades slick with dew and sliding through my fingers at first, before I looped my hand in them and pulled. Tory was grunting behind me, his teeth still in my neck, his smoky breath curling past my cheek. Somewhere, amid the pain, I was afraid I might die. And then, as the searing pain continued, came the hope that death would actually come.
* * *
Torevik Rath, in his smaller Thifilathi, carefully pulled his canines from his mate's neck. She was motionless beneath him. Even in his primal state, he realized it shouldn't be that way. He lifted one of her hands; it dropped bonelessly as he released it. He turned her over—her eyes were closed. A gaping hole was in her shoulder; how had that happened? Tory knelt and sniffed the wound—it smelled raw—burned. He hadn't done that—it smelled nothing like him. He breathed on her face—surely that would wake her. It didn't. His demon heart began to pump fearfully faster—what had happened? He had claimed his mate—she bore his marks—but now she was unresponsive. He lifted his head and howled in misery.
The End
About the Author:
Connie Suttle lives in Oklahoma with her patient, long-suffering husband and three cats. The cats are not long-suffering. In fact, they can be quite demanding and never allow their humans to sleep late.
* * * * *
Information on upcoming titles, as well as a glossary containing character names, places and terms can be found on Connie's website: www.subtledemon.com. Follow her blog at subtledemon.blogspot.com or find her on her Facebook page—Connie Suttle Author. She is also on twitter: @subtledemon
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