Touch of the Demon kg-5

by Diana Rowland

  I chuckled despite myself. Okay, so now I knew for certain that he knew I knew about Ryan and Szerain. “Oathbound,” I drawled.

  “Oathbound,” he echoed, with the faint hint of a nod. His mouth tightened. “Complicated and anachronistic. Bound in rhetoric and intrigue.”

  “Well, I’m pretty good at figuring shit out,” I replied. “One pesky oath won’t stop me.” Assuming I lived long enough to dig into this particular mystery.

  His face remained an expressionless mask, silver-grey eyes steady upon me.

  “Do you have to leave if I talk about it?” I asked. Wouldn’t that be fun if I’d discovered lord repellent? Of course the alternative to leaving could be squash-the-human, but since he already had a loaded gun pointed at my head, I had nothing to lose.

  He raised an eyebrow. I took that as gushing permission. “Szerain and Elinor had a hand in this big bad cataclysm thing a few hundred years ago,” I began. “But nearly destroying the world wasn’t enough to get him exiled. Oh, yeah. You guys needed him to fix what he’d broken. Restitution.”

  Mzatal remained silent, but I thought perhaps a slight spark of interest lit his eyes.

  Sitting back, I steepled my fingers as if deep in thought. “So it wasn’t until—what? A couple of decades ago or so?—that Szerain did another Bad Thing,” I continued. “He got himself into shit so deep there’s an Oath from Hell around it, and eventually he got kicked out of here.” I tilted my head. “And according to Turek, Szerain chose exile instead of handing over information about whatever it was.” I tapped my fingertips together. “My question is…why did he choose exile? What could possibly be worth it?” Narrowing my eyes, I regarded Mzatal. “Plus I wonder if this Bad Thing had anything to do with the Peter Cerise fiasco.” Peter Cerise, whose summoning several decades ago had accidentally called Rhyzkahl instead of Szerain, and resulted in the slaughter of the other five summoners involved. “Is there a connection? And if so, what?”

  With the mention of Cerise, a muscle in Mzatal’s jaw rippled. I made a note of that sore spot on my mental clue board.

  “All must be revealed in time,” he said as he rose from the chair.

  “But for now you get to torture this mark off of me,” I said with a tight smile. “Won’t that be fun.”

  “No, it will not be,” he said, face back to the inscrutable mask.

  I stood, then gave him a wary look as the hair on my arms lifted. Potency swirled to him like water down a drain in gold and purple flickers on the edge of my othersight. He placed his hands on my shoulders and met my eyes. I found myself wishing I could understand this lord—terrifying and all too ready to kill me one minute, and then almost decent in the next. What the hell was his game?

  His gaze bored into me, and I didn’t really want to move. The myth surfaced about snakes hypnotizing their prey, but before I could process that, his hands shifted to my face. Not even a heartbeat later his mouth was on mine, kissing me hard and deep, though not at all roughly. Potency crackled through me like a zing of static electricity between my cells and in the next instant he broke the kiss and stood back, hands clasped behind his back, while I struggled for some sort of response.

  Un-fucking-readable, he nodded once as if satisfied, then turned toward the door. “Come,” he said, though this time it wasn’t accompanied by a lasso of power.

  I didn’t move, could only stare. What. The. Fuck?

  Mzatal glanced back and saw my awesome statue imitation, took my upper arm and nudged me forward. Blinking, I moved, and he dropped his hand. He led the way out of the room and to his grove, and I followed, keeping a wary eye on him the whole time. My thoughts whirled in uneven loops, but foremost among them was, I need to get the hell away from Mzatal.

  Gestamar and Idris waited near the entrance to the tree tunnel. Gestamar bellowed a greeting while Idris simply looked nervous and unsettled. Mzatal took my arm as we entered the shadowed tunnel, no doubt to better sense if I should suddenly try and use the power again. I didn’t bother to tell him that I had no idea how I’d done it the first time. It didn’t matter. As soon as I stepped beneath the sheltering limbs a deep peace descended on me again, and I barely noticed his grip.

  He stopped in the center of the grove and passed me over to Gestamar, who wrapped a clawed hand around my arm while the lord crouched and channeled power into the knob of wood in the center of the grove. I remained perfectly still, feeling as if the grove spoke to me in a language beyond words. My eyes slid to Mzatal as he completed the offering of potency and stood. He lifted a hand to initiate the transfer, and in that instant I knew—knew—the grove.

  The grove shifted around us. We were in the remote location now, wherever that was. Mzatal took my arm again as he greeted the mehnta, but I stayed where I was. Silently, I touched the grove.

  “Kara, come,” Mzatal said. “There is little time.” He began to move but I pulled back against his grip.

  “Wait, please.” My heart pounded while I hoped to hell and back that the collar would shield my thoughts enough to keep him from realizing what I was about to do.

  His grip tightened on my arm, eyes narrowing. “Kara…what—” He stopped as the grove began to activate, then cursed, face going intense as he literally dragged me toward the tree tunnel.

  I dug my heels in. “No!” Now, I silently begged the grove. Take me now! Take me to Rhyzkahl!

  He stopped as the power rose around us and pivoted to face me. “You will regret this,” he said through clenched teeth. “I will come for you.”

  I opened my mouth to say something brilliant like, “Bite me, you lame-ass fuckbrain.”

  But he was gone before I could even form the words.

  Chapter 11

  It took me a couple of seconds to realize that Mzatal hadn’t simply disappeared. “Holy fuckballs,” I breathed, then let out a shaky laugh. I did it. I used the grove. I escaped!

  The distant bellow of a reyza came to me through the tree tunnel. Rhyzkahl’s demons knew I was here, or rather, they knew someone was here. Nighttime, I noted instantly. And damn near frigid. The trees of the grove gave off a soft bluish glow, and sigils that reminded me of stick-in-the-ground solar yard lights marked the path of the tree tunnel. Full of triumph and still pumped with adrenaline, I headed for the tunnel and the freedom of Rhyzkahl’s realm.

  The grove thrummed with a tingle of activation as I reached the arch of trees. I glanced back, and my gut clenched at the sight of Mzatal appearing in the center of the clearing. His face contorted into a snarl of determination as his eyes met mine. My already thudding heart went into hyperdrive. Shit! I’d hoped he wouldn’t be able to follow so quickly. I broke into a run, heading for the night blackness at the far opening of the tree tunnel. Surely Mzatal wouldn’t dare pursue once I was out of the grove and on Rhyzkahl’s turf. Or would he? I had no real idea how the dynamics of the lords worked.

  I cleared the arched trees, and an instant later a lasso of potency snaked around my right ankle. I yelped and went sprawling, clawing at the ground to try to pull away from him as I kicked and struggled against the damn lasso. So close…so close! I could see the lights of a palace ahead, and more reyza bellows filled the air.

  I risked a glance back at Mzatal, heart dropping at the black anger on his face. He advanced quickly, keeping the potency rope taut. I continued to struggle, but I knew it was only a matter of seconds before he had me again. And I’ll never have another chance to escape after this.

  Before Mzatal could reach me, a reyza landed beside me with a whoosh of air. He bellowed at Mzatal, and I breathed in relief when the lord stopped, though I would’ve been even more relieved if the reyza had made some sort of effort to disengage the lasso from my foot. The demon’s gaze dropped to me. A throbbing growl came from his throat.

  I thrust my forearm up at him. “I’m Kara Gillian, sworn summoner of Rhyzkahl,” I gasped. “Help me, please!”

  The demon took less than a second to assess the mark, then his eyes lifted to M
zatal. He bared his teeth and moved to stand over me protectively.

  “Rhyzkahl’s marked one in Rhyzkahl’s domain,” the reyza snarled and pointed at the lasso. “She will not go with you, Mzatal.”

  My pulse slammed as Mzatal continued to hold the lasso taut. The muscles of his jaw twitched, and the menace of his stare made me wonder if he would actually stop even now.

  An eternity later he recalled the lasso with a sharp jerk of his hand. I finally remembered to breathe again

  “I will retrieve you, Kara,” he told me, voice immersing me in threat and promise.

  I scrabbled back, hardly daring to believe I was truly free from him. Mzatal didn’t move except to lift a hand, gaze locked on me. A cramp-like twinge wavered in my chest, then faded before I even had a chance to fully realize it was there.

  Mzatal’s expression grew even darker. He clenched his raised hand so hard his knuckles went white. Taking a step back, he slowly lowered his fist, eyes on mine. “I will retrieve you,” he repeated.

  I scrambled to my feet, mouth tight, then gave in to my inner twelve-year old and flipped him off.

  He held my gaze for another few nervewracking heartbeats. With a final shake of his head, he turned and strode back down the tree tunnel, hands clenched into fists at his sides as potency that wound through my core like a visceral threat poured from him. It seemed odd to see him not walking with his hands clasped behind his back.

  The reyza took hold of my upper arm, breath pluming in the chill air as he bellowed after the departing Mzatal. I waited until I felt the grove activate, taking the lord away, and only then let myself slump in relief. Crap, but that had been close.

  The cold really hit me now that I could think about it. The light shirt and pants I’d put on this morning were great for the climate in Mzatal’s realm, but Rhyzkahl’s palace was either much further north, or in an entirely different hemisphere. Of course it didn’t take much for me to feel like I was freezing to death. I went to long sleeves anytime the temps dipped below sixty-five, and hat and gloves if they went below forty.

  Right now I was seriously ready for hat and gloves. And coat. And boots. And a damn fire.

  “Thank you,” I said to the reyza, willing my teeth not to chatter. “Will you take me to Rhyzkahl now?” I gently tugged at my arm in the hopes of getting him to release me.

  A sigil similar to the message one I’d seen at Mzatal’s shimmered into existence in the air in front of the reyza. He touched it with a clawed finger, snorted, and dispersed it, then turned back to me with a soft hiss. To my shock, instead of releasing me, he pulled my arms behind me and bound them with a simple binding ward.

  “Hey! Wait!” My heart pounded as I pulled futilely against the binding. “What’s going on?” This sure as hell wasn’t the reception I’d expected.

  “I take you to await the will of Rhyzkahl,” the reyza stated, moving me forward and toward the palace with the relentless grip on my upper arm.

  My mind whirled. “I don’t understand. Why am I bound if I’m his sworn summoner?”

  He let out a snort. “Because he has commanded it.”

  I swallowed hard. Had coming here been a colossal mistake? It wouldn’t be the first. I’d sure as hell made some huge ones in my life.

  Forcing down the surge of panic, I did my best to pay attention to details around me. The cloudy night closed in as we left the soft glow of the grove area, and I couldn’t get a good sense of the layout other than that a massive palace rose ahead, marked by light seeping through windows and a pale blue luminescence to the stone itself.

  The reyza moved me through the entrance. I had only the briefest look at a sumptuous and opulent entryway before we passed through and to a door immediately inside. My anxiety rose as the demon continued to escort me down a short hallway and finally through a door into darkness.

  With a quick motion, the reyza set a sigil alight above. It bathed the room in a warm golden glow, revealing a small circular chamber devoid of all furnishings. He released my arm in the center, but before I could move, he traced six sigils and spread them to hover a couple of feet from me in each direction. I didn’t recognize the sigils, but I had no doubt I didn’t want to even try touching them.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, seriously freaked out at this point.

  “Shielding,” the reyza replied with implacable calm. He crouched by the wall and went still, watching me.

  The door burst open. I jerked and had to catch myself from taking a step back. Rhyzkahl stood with his left hand on the door, beautiful face hard, radiating intensity like heat from desert stones. His white-blond hair stirred in an unseen wind, and his crystal-blue eyes seemed to bore deep into my essence. He was barefoot, wearing black pants and an unbuttoned black shirt that revealed a well-muscled torso and rock-hard abs.

  A smear of blood from his palm marred the pale wood of the door. He lifted his other hand in an upward spinning motion, and an instant later a cylinder of bluish potency sprang into existence around me within the circle of sigils. He moved fully into the room, gaze never wavering from me. The door closed soundly without him touching it.

  “Rhyzkahl? What’s going on?” I asked, voice shaking. “I escaped Mzatal and came right here—”

  “Silence!” he ordered through clenched teeth. Slowly, he circled around, eyes traveling methodically over me. I’d reached one hundred percent freakout at this point, but I did my best to stay as still as possible, though I couldn’t keep my knees from shaking.

  Rhyzkahl finally completed the circle, keen and inscrutable eyes on my face. He lifted a hand, and the binding on my wrists dissipated. Before I could twitch, he reached through the shield and removed the collar, blue glow coating his arm like a glove. He flicked the collar aside to skitter to the wall, then seized my left wrist and dragged my arm toward him, exposing the mark. He dropped his gaze to it, grip hard.

  “Mzatal…he tried to get it off,” I told him, breath coming raggedly. “I stopped him—”

  “I said silence!” He bared his teeth in a feral manner and raised his eyes to mine. I shrank under his hard gaze, a shiver of dread going through me. He was so not fucking around. His grip tightened painfully. I clenched my teeth together to stay quiet. He laid his bloody left hand over the mark, and I bit back a whimper as pain seared up my arm, the blood actually sizzling as it touched the tracings. Coming here had been a horrible mistake. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I blinked furiously to hold them back.

  Rhyzkahl locked his gaze on the mark for nearly a full minute, still and silent. He finally looked back up to my face, lip curling. “Tell me what he did.”

  I took a gulping breath. “H-he had me in a diagram—locked me down with potency. He called his essence blade and…started to unwind the mark.”

  “Why did he not finish?”

  I sucked my breath in as his eyes penetrated mine. I could feel him reading it from me, as if someone was literally moving through my head. It took me a couple of seconds to find my voice before answering. “I pushed him away, scattered the diagram,” I managed. “He said I used grove potency.”

  Rhyzkahl continued to read deeply, eyes narrowing. “How did you get here?”

  “I asked the grove to bring me here,” I told him. And boy, was I ever regretting that decision right now.

  He let my wrist drop. The burning eased without the full contact, but the lingering blood still stung, like lemon juice on a sunburn. He began to trace sigils on the cylindrical shield. With the collar off I could see them clearly, but I didn’t have the faintest clue as to their meaning or purpose.

  A tingling began behind my sternum, in the same place I’d felt the cramping at the grove. I lifted my hand to rub the spot, but Rhyzkahl let out a low hiss and reached toward me. His fingers grazed my skin as he closed his hand into a fist. I sucked in my breath as the strange tingle shifted to a deeply uncomfortable pulling sensation, as if he was tugging at the muscles of my chest. A dim arcane glow seeped from between his finger
s, and a thread of potency trailed from his hand to my sternum.

  Without warning, he yanked his hand back. Pain ripped through my chest, and I cried out, dropping to my knees within the cylinder. Shaking, I hugged my arms around myself as the pain dulled to a lingering, pulled-muscle discomfort. The whole process reminded me way too much of the horrible purification ritual. I was supposed to be safe here, I thought in deep misery.

  “He failed to recall you,” Rhyzkahl snarled. “And now he has no chance of it.” I dragged my gaze up to see him grasping a complex sigil, tendrils twitching as if he held a mass of dying snakes.

  He flicked the fingers of his other hand. The potency around me dropped, and the sigils vanished in a brief flare of arcane sparkles. He reached down and grasped my arm to draw me to my feet, then steadied me as I swayed.

  “Mzatal,” he said with venom, “is devious and he is cunning. This—” He held his right hand before me and slowly closed his fist over the twisted, faintly pulsing sigil until there was no more light. “—would have destroyed you within minutes if it had not been extricated.” He opened his now empty hand and shook it, as if ridding himself of the detritus. “It had been activated very recently. He was most determined that you not come to me.”

  I tried to work some moisture into my mouth. “Kill me?” I echoed. It didn’t surprise me at all that Mzatal would try to do so, but that he’d almost succeeded, even after my escape, was pretty damn unnerving.

  Rhyzkahl’s expression softened as he pulled me into an embrace. “Yes, dear one. He likely triggered that implant when he pursued you here. It was in the process of unwinding to implode, and was very nearly complete. He…” Rhyzkahl hesitated a breath. “He would stop at nothing to use you toward his own ends, and to keep you from being with me.” He put a finger under my chin and gently tipped my head up, smiled down at me. “Where you belong.”

  I put my arms around him, but uncertainty lingered. “Why did you have me tied up?”