I had a feeling of impending doom.
She smiled fully. Her teeth were more or less human—more if you just considered the number, less if you noticed that every last one was fang sharp.
“Nice knife,” I managed through a suddenly tight throat.
“It is a pretty little thing, isn’t it? I thought you would appreciate it, considering that it was acquired through no effort of your own.”
I didn’t mention that I’d made every effort to get to it first. She knew that as well as I did.
Her voice dropped to a resonant purr. “Come closer, elfling.”
I didn’t move. The Volghuls clutching my arms simply lifted me straight up and carried me. It was hard to look tough and be defiant when your feet didn’t touch the floor. They put me down about five feet in front of their queen and right next to Carnades’s altar. I looked down at the elf mage, sighed, and just shook my head. From the flare of rage in those arctic eyes, I think I got my message across. I’d warned him; he didn’t believe me, and now here he was. I’d imagine his abduction had resulted in some halfhearted searching and a lot of silent cheering.
Beyond the stage were shadows and restlessly shifting shapes. Large shapes that were moving in closer to get a better look at us—or a better sniff and probably hoping for a taste. From what I could see, a couple of them were large enough to have been responsible for the population explosion upstairs. I was sure I’d been in worse places, but I couldn’t think of one right now. My brain was too busy running back and forth between mere panic and basic terror.
The black magic Rudra Muralin had used to create and open the Hellgate was still there. A brimstone stench seeped through the Hellgate from what lay beyond, but hanging over it all was terror, pain, despair, death—all the ingredients for inviting hell on earth. People had suffered and died here. And the smarmy goblin not five feet in front of me was responsible for it all.
I slowly looked around at the horde moving restlessly in the darkness around us. “Is this more or less what you had in mind?” I asked Rudra Muralin. I was going for cool, calm, with a touch of cocky. I didn’t quite get there, but my voice didn’t crack once. I was nothing short of stunned.
He flashed a grin full of fang. “I’m anticipating much more. And now that you’re here, the real fun can begin.” Muralin turned to the demon queen and inclined his head respectfully. “Your Majesty, when we have the Saghred and it is time to kill this one, may I use the Scythe of Nen and do it myself?”
The queen kept her eyes on me. “Patience, young one,” she told Muralin. “The elfling has yet to be truly useful to me. You would carelessly waste a valuable resource.”
“The elf will only be useful when she is dead,” Muralin countered adamantly.
“That is your opinion. It is yet another that I do not share.” The demon queen’s lips curled in the faintest of smiles. “I have found that males are best used, not trusted,” she murmured in my direction.
The goblin’s black eyes flashed in anger. “But I have—”
The queen’s smile vanished and she held up a single, taloned finger. Wisely Muralin swallowed his next words. The goblin was insane, not stupid. He was cautious, maybe even afraid of her. Smart of him.
And good to know.
“Curb your tongue, goblin,” the demon queen snapped. “Or you may find yourself without it.” Her ruby eyes settled on me. “Silence is another admirable trait in males. Unfortunately, so few possess it.”
I grinned. It was probably a bad idea, but I just couldn’t help it.
“You find my words amusing, elfling?”
“Just highly perceptive, Your Majesty. Particularly when it comes to him.” I nodded toward Rudra Muralin.
“Ours is a business relationship, nothing more. Trust never entered into it.”
“Trust and business can be a dangerous combination,” I agreed, tossing a meaningful glance in Muralin’s direction. “It can blow up in your face at the most inconvenient times.”
The goblin stood utterly still, his black eyes promising murder, but interestingly, he made no move to deliver. In fact, I felt nothing from him. No presence, no magic, nothing. If I hadn’t been standing there seeing him with my own two eyes, I wouldn’t have known he was there. The open Hellgate distorted all of my senses, and if there was ever a time that I needed all of my senses on high alert, it was now.
The demon queen’s ruby eyes met mine and I couldn’t look away. “You I trust less, but I like more.” She looked past me and smiled slowly. “Do you wish to barter for the elfling’s freedom as well?” she asked someone behind me.
“I do.”
My mouth fell open. I tried to jerk around to look, but my head was all that could move thanks to my twin Volghul anchors.
Tam stepped up on the dais, giving the Volghuls no more consideration or notice than the columns surrounding the stage.
I hadn’t sensed a thing. I still couldn’t, even with our umi’atsu bond, and Tam was standing right next to me. All I could hear was a crackling white noise from the Hellgate, distorting my thoughts, filling my head. Focusing was an effort. Magic was . . .
. . . Oh no.
Magic wasn’t possible. I couldn’t use any magic, and neither could Rudra Muralin.
And neither could Tam.
The distortion from the Hellgate was too strong, and the tangible proof was chained to that altar—and standing right next to me. The manacles holding Carnades weren’t the magic-sapping variety. They were just iron. Just iron was holding down one of the strongest mages there was.
Then there was Tam. His leather armor was slashed across his chest and back, by both claws and steel, and more than a few of those cuts had reached Tam’s skin. He didn’t have a single weapon on him—at least not any that I could see. Tam’s long hair was down and disheveled, the queen was all cold beauty and confidence. There was no sign of Tam’s dark mage hit squad. They were either dead, or they were the ones Tam was bartering for. Oh, this was not good.
Tam wasn’t a prisoner, but he wasn’t a guest, either.
The queen was looking from me to Tam and back again, thoughtfully tapping the tip of the Scythe’s blade against her lips.
Then she made a low, pleased sound from deep in her throat, part purr, half hiss. “You know the elfling.”
“We’ve met,” Tam said dryly.
“Oh, I think it is much more than that. You barter prettily, goblin; but I require more than sweet words. You know this.”
“I have told you that I cannot procure what you want.”
“Cannot procure? Oh, but I think you can. You simply refuse to get it for me. If you require an incentive, I would greatly enjoy providing it for you. You brought many other goblins to fight beside you. I could torment them one at a time before your eyes, if you make it necessary. I assure you that there is no limit to my creativity. Eventually you will do what I want.”
The demon queen was playing with Tam, and I had a sinking feeling she had only begun her games. Eggs were hatching, demons were rampaging, her enemies were magically helpless or chained before her, and she had the Scythe in her hands. She could afford a little time to indulge herself. I resisted the urge to step in front of Piaras. It would just attract her attention that much faster.
The demon queen gazed down at Carnades. “And I thought this one would be my only source of amusement. Release her,” she told my demon guards. “Release all of them; they cannot escape.”
They immediately did as ordered. When they let me go, I felt a cool rush of blood into my lower arms and flexed my fingers to restore the circulation. Not that I could do anything, at least not yet, but it always paid to be prepared. I wondered how far the no-magic zone extended. My legs wanted to find out; my head knew I wouldn’t make it two steps.
“By all means, elfling. Try to escape.” The queen looked out into the shadows. “My subjects are forbidden to be on this side of the columns. It pains them to see you thus, you and your friends, since I have not yet
released them to feed. Their hunger is quite overwhelming them.” The queen’s red eyes sparkled with malevolent glee, and her voice dropped to a sibilant whisper. “By all means, take a walk in the dark.”
“I’ll pass.”
I couldn’t see into Tam’s mind, but apparently the demon queen could see into mine. Then again, maybe she couldn’t. Escape was the obvious thing to do when a pair of demonic thugs let you go. But I wasn’t going to take the chance; if by some miracle I got a plan worth pursuing, I’d do everything I could to keep it to myself.
The queen looked over my other shoulder. Piaras. She’d spotted Piaras.
Dammit.
“You bring me treasure,” she murmured in approval, her eyes bright. The demon queen cast the barest glance at Rudra Muralin. “This one brought me nothing. No gifts, no tribute.” Her full lips narrowed in regal displeasure. “Arrogant.”
“Not even flowers?” I said before I could stop myself.
The queen laughed, silvery and cold, a calculated sound, probably practiced to duplicate the real thing. She showed Muralin her teeth. He had only two fangs; she had a mouthful.
“I gave you the inhabitants of this island,” Muralin reminded her.
“You gave? I take what I want, goblin.” She gestured distaste-fully at Carnades. “You have given me nothing but a poor substitute for what I truly desire. And you were so very foolish to think that I would be satisfied with mere entrance into this world.” The demon queen moved toward him with liquid grace, sensual, mesmerizing. Rudra Muralin didn’t move. He couldn’t—or he didn’t want to. The queen reached out and brushed Muralin’s flawless cheekbone with the tip of the Scythe, leaving a thin trail of blood against his silvery skin. “You know not how helpless you truly are.” Her smile broadened and her eyes gleamed. “I should like to see true fear in your eyes. And I think I shall.”
The goblin swallowed. “You have my respect and loyalty, Your Majesty.” He stood frozen to the spot like a mouse with a large and hungry cat standing over it with twitching tail.
“Loyalty,” she purred. “We shall see.”
She turned to Carnades and ran the tip of one taloned finger lightly down the elf mage’s chest, parting the pristine white linen robe as she did so. “My poor husband is a soul without a body. This beautiful one will make a fine royal vessel, albeit a temporary one.”
Carnades Silvanus with the soul of the king of demons. I was wrong; this was the worst situation I’d ever been in.
Chapter 27
Tam didn’t bat an eye.
“So, Carnades gets to be the demon king,” he commented mildly. “What’s in it for you?” he asked Rudra Muralin.
“The Saghred, once Her Majesty frees the king.” His eyes were the flat black of a shark. “Then I’ll have anything I want, beginning with some long-overdue revenge—starting with you, Tamnais.”
Tam looked at the goblin queen and raised one flawless brow. “He gets his choice of toys? Simply for opening a door for you? Your rewards are more than generous, Your Majesty.”
“Those who serve me are appropriately rewarded.”
Tam didn’t bat an eye, but Rudra Muralin did. The smarmy punk suddenly got a tad less smarmy. “I kept my end of our bargain, Your Majesty. The sacrifices, a Hellgate large and strong enough to admit your legions, and the breeders to make more.”
There was rustling and low, throaty growls and grunts coming from the darkness around us. I kept my eyes straight ahead.
There were some things I absolutely did not want to know about.
“I allow my servants their pleasures,” the queen told Tam. “My husband and king was taken by the Saghred while dining from it. I will not risk losing him again. This goblin has agreed to become the Saghred’s bond servant and wield it for me.”
“And once your elf whore is dead by my hand, I will again be the bond servant,” Muralin gloated.
There was that word again. I felt a growl growing in my chest and stifled it. It’d almost be worth the risk of getting my own throat torn out to get my hands around his. Tam was probably having similar thoughts, but he’d always had more self-control than I did.
Tam looked at Muralin, his lips curling into a grin, and then he actually chuckled. “So once again you’ll be taking orders from someone else. For eternity. And in Hell, no less. Appropriate and delightfully ironic at the same time.” He shook his head in amusement. “Rudra, you’ve merely traded a goblin king for a demon queen. Have you forgotten that a Mal’Salin king was the cause of your first death? Do you truly think the outcome will be different this time? You’re not known for being likable. It’s only a matter of time until you’ve annoyed her enough to chain you to a slab.”
The demon queen scowled down at Carnades. “I might have been more favorably disposed toward the goblin if he had brought the correct elf to me. Though his power is impressive, this was not the one I desired. The elven paladin is the most powerful of his race that I have ever seen.”
I froze. Oh no. Mychael. She wanted Mychael.
The demon queen stretched a languid hand toward Rudra Muralin, stopping just short of touching him. The goblin’s black eyes widened, his expression a twist of fear and desire.
“The young elf will make a fine songbird for your majesty,” Muralin said quickly. “And he will be useful to secure Raine’s cooperation. The dark-haired elf is her cousin. She would do anything to keep either of them from harm.” I could see the tension ease out of the goblin’s body. To save your own ass, put someone else’s in the sling. Bastard.
“Cooperation is more easily gained when the subject is motivated,” the demon queen agreed. “So the elfling would do anything to keep her loved ones safe.” She looked at Tam, her eyes lingering appreciatively. “And her soul twin,” she said softly. “Not lovers. No, not yet.” The queen paused thoughtfully, reaching out with her mind, feeling the air between us, touching, sensing. Knowing. “But the bond that links them is even more intimate than mere flesh.” She went to stand before Tam and gracefully bent her head to his throat, taking in his scent. Tam didn’t flinch, but it took every bit of his control not to. His lips pulled back from his fangs in a silent snarl.
“Delectable,” the queen murmured. “Your black magic clings to you like exotic perfume. And to make you even more exquisite, your scent is blended with the elfling’s power.” One corner of her full lips curled into a secretive smile. “Or should I say the power of the Saghred?”
There was silence, then Rudra Muralin laughed in sheer, mad delight. “An umi’atsu bond? With an elf? This is too much. Did you hear that, Silvanus? The only one to attempt to help you this day is in an umi’atsu bond with a goblin dark mage.”
“And they are not alone,” the demon queen said, her words soft and for our ears only, Tam’s and mine. “One who is equal in power to you, my delectable goblin. Perhaps even greater. One whose power is light to your dark. I thought to use the elfling to go through the mirror to fetch the Saghred for me, but she will be more valuable as a lure.” Her ruby eyes bored into mine, and I felt myself falling into them. “The one I desire must care for you greatly to do what he has done to protect you. His efforts to prevent you from falling will seal his fate.” She raised her voice slightly; she wanted Rudra Muralin to hear. “And I have the two of you here with me now, bonded to each other.” Her smile was slow and horrible. “And to the Saghred.”
Muralin paled. He knew what the demon queen was saying. So did I. It took everything I had to keep from running into the dark with the monsters.
“The Saghred is already bonded to the elfling.” Her words were for Muralin, but she kept her fiery eyes on Tam and me. “You claim that by killing her the Saghred will again accept you as its bond servant.” She slowly turned her head toward the goblin. “I have no proof of that, only your word. And your word has proven less than reliable. The elfling can wield the Saghred now; her goblin bondmate will be able to do so soon—and he is also a master of the dark arts.” She paused thoughtfully.
“What is it that you mortals say? Two for the price of one. My servants for eternity, wielding the Saghred for me. There will be no further need of Hellgates; I will be able to come and go as I please.”
Muralin’s black eyes glowered in barely controlled rage. “You swore that I—”
The queen turned on him, her words slicing like the Scythe she held. “I swore nothing; you presumed everything.” Her long-taloned hand shot out toward Rudra Muralin, lifting the goblin off his feet and sticking him like a bug into the Hellgate membrane. He struggled, but just worked himself in deeper.
And the Hellgate’s glow flickered and diminished briefly when she did it.
“Now you are a part of your own creation,” the queen said with smug satisfaction. “A fitting place for you to think and remember who is ruler here and who is the servant. My husband will require food when he arrives to claim his new body. Do not try my patience any further, or you shall be that first meal.”
Her gleaming eyes fell on Tam. “Consider that a warning, lovely one. Do you still wish to defy me?”
Tam’s will, like his stance, was cold and unmoving. “Mychael Eiliesor cannot be acquired, Your Majesty—regardless of the lure.”
The demon queen placed the tip of one talon against her lips. “You will not assist me even if one hundred lives on this island are spared?” she murmured, her voice like molten honey. “Including your beautiful son. One hundred lives of your choosing. Untouched, unmolested, unharmed. They will be allowed to live and leave this island when no one else will.” Her eyes brightened. “All for a single elf. If this Mychael Eiliesor is as infected with nobility as I have heard, he would agree to my proposal and sacrifice his life without hesitation. I wish to negotiate with you, goblin. Not persuade. My persuasion is always fatal; by the time a mortal is broken and willing to do what I require, they are no longer in a condition to do so. All that effort wasted. Pity.”
The demon queen wanted Mychael, and Tam was her choice for his kidnapper. Tam wouldn’t do it; I knew he wouldn’t. I glanced at him and saw his black eyes glittering in the dim light, his profile expressionless. As with the Volghuls, Tam gave me no notice or regard. With Tam and the trouble he often found himself in, to ignore was to protect. He was ignoring the Volghuls; he was protecting me, or at least he was trying.
The Trouble with Demons Page 29
