Touch of the Demon kg-5

by Diana Rowland

  Michael’s face grew serious. “Okay, I won’t. I don’t want it to be like before and hurt anyone.” He drew in a breath. “Seretis said they can’t read it from me since my brain’s messed up.” A smile lit his face. “Guess that’s one good thing about having a scrambled head.”

  “That’s a damn good thing,” I said fervently as I gave him a hug. “I’m so glad you’re doing well.”

  “Thanks, Kara,” he said, returning the hug. He lifted his head. “I better go. Seretis is calling me.” He grinned. “I think he reflected one back at Amkir and stung him good!”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” I said with a laugh. “Take care, Michael.”

  “Bye, Kara!” He turned and took off at a jog toward the nearest entrance. I watched him go, relieved and pleased that this had worked out so well for him.

  A movement in an upstairs window caught my attention as I turned away. I had a feeling it was one of the lords—maybe Jesral? I didn’t think it was Rhyzkahl. I tried to picture Rhyzkahl enjoying a snowball fight, but somehow I couldn’t see that ever happening. But I can see Ryan doing it, I thought with a smile. Ryan would be right in there, slinging snowballs and shouting orders and mock threats.

  But would Szerain? My smile faded.

  I retreated to a boulder and watched the demons romp in the snow, but it didn’t take long for the heat of exertion to wear off and the chill to creep in. Yet I wasn’t ready to go back inside, to the place where I had to avoid lords and make myself scarce.

  The stone path was already clear of snow, which surprised me until I saw two savik moving along the path, igniting sigils that flared to melt the snow away and keep the paths from refreezing. More snow began to fall, but in a light and powdery dusting that seemed to quiet everything to a respectful hush. I started to walk without any clear destination in mind. I wanted to explore and to stay away from the palace for a while. Glancing up, I saw Kehlirik perched on a buttress. I waved to him and he spread his wings in reply. Pyrenth wheeled overhead in complicated aerial maneuvers as if dodging the scattered snowflakes, but I still had an unerring sense that he watched me as well. I shook my head and laughed softly as I continued to wander the paths. I certainly had no fear that I wasn’t well guarded.

  Many of the paths ended in little nooks or grottos, each with such a different feel that I suspected they all had unique creators: a small circular pool so clear and deep that it made me dizzy looking down into it; a rock garden of huge hazy crystals which, when touched, resonated with pure tones that went right through me and made me feel cleaner; a garden I visited for no more than a few seconds because the stench from the giant flower-thing at its center was like the worst decomposed corpse I’d ever encountered. Maybe it appealed to demons, but not me.

  After exploring a half dozen or so, I came to one that was clearly different from the others. I gained access through a small hedge maze, its center kept clear of snow by softly pulsing wards. A tingle similar to what I felt in Szerain’s shrine raised goose bumps head to toe. There was little doubt it was carefully and meticulously maintained; the bushes didn’t have even a single leaf out of place, and there wasn’t a hint of dirt or debris on the precisely fitted flagstones. In the center stood a waist-high pedestal of black stone with capillaries of gold and silver running through it—an obelisk about a foot across at the base that tapered up to about half that. From the top sprang a flower so lifelike that only the fact that it was the same color as the rest of the stone told me that it wasn’t real.

  Rhyzkahl holds the flower out to me. “Your favorite, is it not?” I am overcome with joy. He remembered! I take it from his hand. My fingers brush his, and a thrill leaps through me. His eyes are so intent upon me. Will he kiss me? Yes, oh…yes, he kisses me, and I am undone. So much more than the kisses of before. I do not want it to ever end, and this time it does not! He gently bears me down to the blanket, brushes my hair from my face then pulls the laces of my dress. My heart leaps. Yes, I am ready! Oh, his touch is all that I dreamed and so much more. I am overcome as he shows me what pleasure awaits. There is only the briefest pain and even that he eases…

  I lie spent and gasping in his arms as he traces patterns upon my bare flesh. He smiles down at me, and I want to weep again. I am a silly girl—no, not a girl anymore. I am truly a woman now.

  I yanked myself out of the memory, for the first time feeling almost like a voyeur. Yet even so, curiosity tugged at me—not about Rhyzkahl popping Elinor’s cherry but about Giovanni. Was he in the picture yet? Already out of it? What the hell was the deal with him anyway?

  And why can’t these damn shadow-memories have time and date stamps on them? I thought sourly. That would certainly make figuring all this shit out a lot easier.

  Questions crowded against each other in my head as I regarded the stone flower—the same kind as the one he’d given me. There was no doubt at all that this was a shrine to Elinor. Yet he keeps her portrait covered. Maybe this one was all right because it was so far away from the palace? Or maybe because there was no likeness of her here?

  I stroked a finger over the stone petals. Szerain carved this. It had his feel about it, as if at any moment it could stir in the breeze, turn its face to the winter sun. A pang of longing for Ryan struck me, accompanied by a wave of confusion. Here I was Rhyzkahl’s eager bedmate, yet I clearly had strong feelings for Ryan. What the hell was wrong with me?

  I needed Jill, needed her keen insight and no-nonsense attitude. I wanted desperately to tell her that, before I was summoned, Ryan told me he loved me. I badly wanted her take on it. I knew she’d frown on my feeling any sort of guilt about casual, consensual sex, but it was hard not to feel a certain amount of angst and doubt given the current situation—in all its many and gloriously fucked-up layers.

  The most fucked-up of which was the possibility that Ryan wasn’t…real.

  Was I supposed to remain loyal to a personality that might be completely fabricated? My heart clenched at the thought that the Ryan I knew and had come to care for—and yes, even love—could simply be turned off someday. Yet I had to accept that was likely the brutal reality, especially since Turek had told me Szerain’s exile couldn’t be permanent.

  I dropped to sit on the dry stone and tried to imagine what Jill would likely say, ticking points off on her fingers: “You’re fucking Rhyzkahl because A, he’s a hot and sexy stud who gives you lots and lots of orgasms, and B, because you’re deliberately putting obstacles between you and Ryan to protect yourself in the event things with him don’t work out.”

  Groaning, I dropped my head into my hands. Yep, that pretty much summed it up.

  And then there was Rhyzkahl. He might not have loved Elinor, but he’d certainly cared for her. And while I had no illusions that he loved me, it was clear there was some sort of affection in play. I sighed. There was no easy answer to any of this.

  Cold and confused, I made my way back to the palace.

  Chapter 17

  I stood at the broad window in the arboretum, arms clasped loosely around myself as I watched the demons in the yard below. They were already involved in some new game. Not that I had any clue what the rules were. Two faas hunkered on one side of the courtyard, and a zhurn and reyza stood still as statues on the other. At apparently random intervals one from each side would dash to the middle and go through a series of odd sparring type moves. But it wasn’t sparring. That would be ludicrous between a faas and a reyza. After a minute, they’d break apart and go back to their side. Then later, another pair would go out and do the same thing. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. I didn’t get it, but they sure looked like they were having a good time.

  I should teach them football, I thought with amusement. Football with the use of the arcane, and with a variety of creatures, some of whom had the ability to fly. Yeah, that might require a few adjustments to the rules.

  I let my gaze drift to the grove. I was banned from going to it, but now I knew that didn’t mean it was completely inaccessible. Gently, I
pulled a trickle of power, allowed myself to revel in the comfort of it.

  I startled as arms encircled me from behind, then relaxed as I recognized the warm power of Rhyzkahl’s presence.

  “You seem pensive,” he murmured. I dropped my head back against him, sighed. He brought his right hand up to lay it against the side of my face. “And you are clouded.”

  “No, I actually feel fine,” I said. “Totally clear.”

  “Perhaps clear to you,” he said. “Not clear to me.”

  I scowled. The hand on the side of my face wasn’t affection. It was him trying to read me, and for whatever reason, he wasn’t having much success. I pulled away and turned to face him. “Don’t read my damn mind then,” I said with a falsely sweet smile. “Problem solved.”

  Rhyzkahl tilted his head, gave me a disarming yet suggestive smile. “There are times when you most assuredly enjoy it.”

  Well, he had me there. There was a lot to be said for having a lover who knew exactly what revved your engines. “Okay…but those are the only times!” Then I sighed. “Rhyzkahl, this place is great, but I’m so ready to go home.”

  “It is what I came to tell you,” he said. “With Jesral’s assistance, the foundation has been laid for the ritual.”

  “Really?” I smiled broadly. “I’m going home?”

  He slid his arms around me. “Tonight, yes. It is a difficult and complex ritual to open a portal without a summoner working the pattern,” he cautioned. “But I am confident that I will be able to guide you as needed.”

  I pressed close to him. “I can follow orders when necessary.”

  Smiling, he lifted his other hand to stroke my hair back from my face. “We shall soon see.” He kissed me, then straightened. “And now I must go make final preparations,” he said. The smile remained on his face, yet his eyes seemed deeply veiled. “I will send for you at sunset. Bathe and don what the faas lay out for you.”

  Excitement and relief twined together within me. “I’ll be ready.”

  He touched my cheek then turned and departed without another word.

  I watched him go. Was it at all possible that he was going to miss me? Was that why he was being so strangely tender? I shook my head to dismiss the thought. Right now all I wanted to worry about was getting my ass back home.

  I returned to my room, bathed, then stood frowning at the simple, pretty pullover dress laid out on the bed. I’d been thinking jeans, a zrila-shirt, and sneakers would be ideal for going home, but for all I knew, clothes might have significance in demon-side rituals. Whatever. All that mattered right now was getting home. After dressing and combing out my hair, I had nothing left to do but wait impatiently and watch the progress of the sun toward the horizon.

  Shortly after the sun began to set a faas burst through the door, baring teeth. “Come! Come! Qaztahl waits!”

  “Okay, okay!” I said with a smile. The faas hopped out, and I followed it down the corridor. It stopped at the open door to this wing’s smaller library and pointed inside.

  “Here here heeeeere.”

  “Rhyzkahl’s waiting for me here?” I asked, brow furrowed.

  The faas peered at me as though I was a silly but very lovable human. “No! Jesral waiting!”

  Doubt tightened my stomach. I took a settling breath and wished I was wearing more than the very simple dress with no bra, then entered the small library.

  Indeed, Jesral was there, draped casually in a chair, sitting partially sideways with one leg over the other. There was nothing casual, though, behind his eyes or in his aura. Slim, with short brown hair, sharp features, and a keen gaze, he didn’t radiate scary the way Mzatal did but felt more like a silent, stalking jungle cat—deadly, but able to hide it when he desired. He wore a grey turtleneck beneath a dark blue velvet suit that did absolutely nothing to decrease the subtle aura of danger. He turned his head to look at me as I entered, while the rest of his posture remained in total comfortable casualness.

  “Ah, Kara Gillian,” he said, flashing me a smile. “I am Lord Jesral. I have heard so much about you. What a delight to finally have the chance to meet you properly.”

  I inclined my head, wary. “Lord Jesral, I confess I don’t know much, if anything, about you.” I gave him a small and careful smile.

  His eyes widened. “Rhyzkahl has not spoken of me?” He shook his head and made a single tsk sound. “He has spoken of you at length. Though there was cause in that, and perhaps not so the other way.”

  I folded my arms over my chest as I studied him. “And why have I been the subject of so much conversation?”

  “Most recently, regarding the ritual,” he said, eyes on me, still smiling. “To which I will escort you, that you may return to Earth.”

  “And why do you care whether I return to Earth?”

  He laughed. “What matter would it have to me if you stay or go? I aid because Rhyzkahl asks it.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “And do you do everything he asks of you?”

  “Clever, clever girl.” His face shifted from the smile to a far more penetrating look. “Would you believe any answer I gave you?”

  I affected a casual shrug, though inside my pulse raced. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this light conversational banter carried higher stakes than I could ever imagine. “Lies and truth are all information of some sort, Lord Jesral.”

  He dropped his crossed leg to the floor, gaze intense and flat out disturbing in a far different way than any of the others. A strange smile of cold satisfaction crept over his face, as though I’d managed to confirm some suspicion he’d been harboring.

  “This is so very true,” he said, standing and flicking non-existent dust from his sleeves. “Though it is helpful to discern a lie from truth in order to glean the most refined information. I can offer one as easily as the other.”

  I unfolded my arms. “I’m a cop. I’m used to lies. But how about you humor me and tell me the truth.” I lowered my head and kept the smile on my face. His too-friendly demeanor disturbed the hell out of me. “Why is it that you so eagerly leap to do Rhyzkahl’s bidding? Do you fear him? Love him? Owe him? Or are you merely sucking up in order to keep in his good favor?”

  He adjusted his clothing with a few smooth, practiced moves, then gestured toward the door. “We have a mutually beneficial working relationship,” he said, “and he would just as readily leap at my bidding.”

  I headed to the door and allowed myself to be escorted. I was more than ready to get the fuck away from the demon realm and all of these lords. “A working relationship?” I gave him an ingenuous smile. “And what sort of work do you and Rhyzkahl do?”

  Jesral laughed in a way that wasn’t at all comforting. “If Rhyzkahl has chosen not to even speak of me to his marked summoner, there must be a reason. It is not for me to step between the two of you and spoil it.”

  I pressed my lips together and continued on in silence, utterly sick of this place and the bullshit intrigue. Shadow memories flickered as we walked, but I did my best to keep a careful lid on them.

  Jesral finally stopped before the double doors to the antechamber. He flicked a hand to open one of them by about a foot. “And so here you are, Kara Gillian. I will see you again soon, I am certain.” He took my hand before I could pull it away, lifted it to his mouth without bending, kissed the back, and released it.

  I wanted badly to say something cutting and clever, but I couldn’t come up with a damn thing. No doubt I would in about five minutes. Instead I simply gave him a nod and a tight smile, then ducked through the door.

  Chapter 18

  The antechamber swallowed me, overly spacious, overly white, and utterly barren, as though decor had gone missing. The opulence and splashes of color in the rest of the palace warmed and augmented the white, but here, it was unbroken winter. I hurried across the expanse of floor, demon-marble chilling my bare feet.

  With a breath of relief, I passed through the open door of the summoning chamber itself, its dark gray wall
s and floor and pleasing warmth a startling contrast to the room behind me. It seemed the lords had identical summoning chambers, which I guessed had to do with function rather than taste. Hundreds of sigils ringed the chamber, too many to even begin to puzzle out their purpose or meaning. All pulsed faintly, yet to be ignited and activated. That’s what we’ll be doing, I realized, tension and a vague worry twined with a near breathless excitement. I didn’t know how this sort of ritual worked, but it still excited me to be intimately involved in such a creation.

  Rhyzkahl stood with his back to me, barefoot and wearing almost the same thing he’d worn on my first accidental summoning of him: cream-colored leather breeches that hugged the muscles of his legs, and a white shirt of some sort of silky material. I controlled my impatience and nerves while he completed a sigil. Finally, he turned to me.

  “Close the door,” he said. “Then ignite the sigil upon it.”

  I shut the heavy door but paused, frowning as I peered at the sigil. It was a deeply complex thing, with whispers of something intimately familiar. Yet I had no idea how to do what he asked.

  “Use your connection with the grove. Ignite it as you would a closure seal for a portal, but draw the grove energy as well,” Rhyzkahl said. “It is a source of deep power, and its use to ignite the master seal will offer the greatest anchoring and shielding for the ritual.”

  I nodded, then drew on the grove and extended to the sigil. An instant later it flared to life, igniting a chain of patterns that ran along the perimeter of the chamber. I exhaled in delight, the weirdness with Jesral forgotten.

  “Excellent,” Rhyzkahl said. “Without a summoner controlling the portal from the exterior, it is vital that the room be deeply shielded and solidly anchored when the portal opens.”

  I didn’t have to ask him what could go wrong if it wasn’t. An unshielded portal could do very bad things. I wanted to get back to Earth in one piece, thank you.

  “Are you ready to begin?” he asked.