by Ann Aguirre
“I don’t want you hurt because of me,” I answered at last. “You know how you said it kills you to see me taking crazy risks? I feel the same way about you.”
“You do?” Some of the tight, injured pride faded from his face.
“Yeah. God, Chance, you were the first guy I ever loved. You’ll probably be the last.”
“I want to be,” he whispered.
A dark feeling came over me then. Like I could wrap him up in my arms, but it wouldn’t be forever. No matter how much I wanted it, or how much I believed in his feelings. He was one man I couldn’t keep.
Somehow, I pushed past the foreboding and blamed it on the demon queen fucking with me. I found the strength to tease. “You want it all with me, huh? House. Kids. The whole nine?”
Honestly, I expected him to panic. Instead, he stepped closer and in instinctive response I pressed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me. Demons surged around us, muttering about uncontrollable Luren urges, but half of their ire contained an edge of envy. At least that many wished they were in Chance’s arms instead of me, even here, where beauty came in forms so powerful that it doubled as a weapon.
He brushed my lips gently with his and said, “Yes.” Another kiss. “Yes.” Yet one more, this the deepest and longest of all. “And again, yes.”
“Did you just propose?”
He smiled. “Technically, I think you did.”
“But I was kidding.”
“Then I’ll have to do it right…at a better time.”
If we made it out of Sheol, I looked forward to that day.
He went on. “Is that what you want too? A future with me?”
The old Chance had never been so direct with his questions or so plain in his intentions. I believed that he’d changed—or maybe it was more accurate to say he’d come back to the way he’d been with Lily, instead of the broken, guarded man he had been with me. On a street in Sheol wasn’t where I’d have chosen to have this conversation, but a throwaway remark got us here. I wouldn’t blow him off when he’d put himself out there.
“Yes. I love you, Chance.” It was time to say the words because he’d done what he set out to do—win my heart again. I was his, as much as I ever had been. Hell, the guy had stuck by me through this, through some super-crazy shit. It couldn’t have been awesome to learn I had a demon queen rattling around in my head, but he wasn’t running. He could’ve. Not home, maybe, but he could’ve said, Okay, this is just too weird. This is where I get off the crazy train. But no, he took some time to process and then came back for more.
With more than a little regret, I broke away, as I wanted to make out with Chance for about an hour, but I didn’t trust those urges. They might not belong entirely to me. The queen cackled quietly. Can you trust your feelings at all, Binder? Maybe I’m making you love him too.
“That’s bullshit,” I said aloud.
Chance glanced at me, but he knew what was going on. His mouth tightened, but he didn’t complain. How much of his patient understanding belongs to him, the queen wondered, and how much to my consort? This time I ignored her. Sighing, I hurried to catch up with Greydusk. Chance followed, his steps quick and light.
“All clear?” I asked quietly.
The Imaron nodded. “So far, so good. We have a clean run to the Dohan complex.”
As I recalled, each caste had territory in the city. “Where are we now?” Presumably his house sat within the boundaries of the Imaron sector, but Club Hell had been open to all castes, so it made sense that it would lie in neutral ground, so this must be…“The Barrens?”
“Very good,” he approved.
Chance asked, “How far?”
“About an hour’s walk from here. There won’t be much foot traffic once we leave the Barrens.”
“Will we be crossing through other caste territories on the way?” Man, I wished like hell I had a map. Or a guidebook. Or both.
“So we shall.”
“Is it dangerous?” Chance had his hands in his pockets, no doubt readying his gloves.
“Best to be on your guard.”
And so he slipped them on, flexing his fingers to ensure the perfect fit. I watched him, aching with regret, and I didn’t know why. The demon queen laughed softly, mockingly, but she didn’t speak. For the first time, I wished she would. Her insights might help us. Or destroy me.
Probably both.
“There will be checkpoints at each border,” Greydusk explained as we walked. “If we were in a sanctioned cab, we’d slip right past because for good or ill, people with the money to pay avoid scrutiny. It’s assumed that if you can afford the fare, you have business in that zone.”
I thought of how homeless people got hassled in upscale neighborhoods. “Demons have that in common with us.”
“I imagine that’s an uncomfortable realization,” Greydusk observed.
“To say the least.”
“Would it be smarter to take a cab?” Chance asked.
“It would be faster.”
I noticed the demon didn’t say safer. There was a risk that instead of taking us to our destination, the cabbie would deliver us to someone who had put a price on our heads, if he saw through our makeshift disguises. So really it came down to speed versus caution and by the way they looked at me, I needed to make the decision.
“Call a cab,” I said. “The faster we reach the Dohan, the quicker we get Shannon.”
“I have a better idea,” Greydusk said. “If we care more about speed than running unnoticed—”
“We can take the Klothod carriage,” I finished.
The demon was already setting down the cube in the street, whispering the control words, and then whipped the vial out. In another couple of seconds, we clambered in. My skin didn’t crawl this time. And that bothered me. A lot.
Greydusk said, “This conveyance is conspicuous. But we won’t be stopped. And I suspect you want to reach the Dohan more than you wish to be discreet.”
“You got that right,” I muttered.
“Then we’re off.”
The ride was…memorable. At this time of night, there was little traffic, and the pedestrians stopped to stare. Anyone who questioned them would get a detailed answer, I thought, but no matter now. I was committed. I had a blurred impression of the checkpoints, where demons watched us pass but did not attempt to interfere with our progress. As Greydusk had said, anyone who could afford such a contraption was obviously powerful and not to be crossed.
At the Dohan compound, he spoke the command word again and the vehicle stopped. I hopped down, impatient, as the demon put away his unnerving toys. Pain surged in my head, a break, and then…
Shaking my hair out of my face, I decided it was not suitable that I should wear it loose. It decreased my dignity to have it flapping in the wind. Yet the Dohan would give me the information I needed. Or I would leave this place a smoking ruin.
I turned my gaze on my consort. Despite his lack of proper training, he stepped forward and offered his arm. I did not thank him, but I made a mental note not to whip him today.
Greydusk strode toward the front gate. He showed no trepidation, which made him a worthy minion. In the new regime, I would permit him a place at my feet. I might even raise him up as the Knight of the Imaron caste. Such things had been done, of course, but never without the support of the queen.
The demon touched a glowing panel. A voice responded, “Who seeks an audience with the Dohan?”
“Her Highness, Corine Solomon, the Once and Future Queen, now and forevermore, the Binder.”
That was a proper introduction. I offered an approving nod, and the Imaron swelled with pride. In so many ways, my kin were like helpless children, desperately in need of a firm hand. Fortunately for them, I had returned at long last. Soon enough, I would set my realm to rights.
To their credit, the Dohan did not keep us waiting. While I might not wear a crown—yet—they knew better than to alienate me. Despite their appetites, the Dri
nkers were cowards when it came to confrontation. Even trapped in this human vessel, I could still wreak a most satisfying havoc. They wouldn’t risk my anger.
The gate swung open, and within awaited an honor guard. They fell in around me, but they were not a threat. We all knew it. I permitted them to encircle me because I could have killed them all. I half wanted to make an example of the nearest Dohan foot soldier, but sometimes it was better to leave the danger as potential to be realized.
They escorted me through a dark and exotic garden and down the gilded hallways to the receiving room, where the Knight of the Dohan awaited. He was a slight male with a goatee, long nails, and bloodred eyes. He dressed for effect, all in black. And when he saw me, he fell to his knees. The rest followed suit, including the six who had escorted me from the front gate. I let the silence build. Left them on their knees. Let them remember the taste of terror thickening their tongues. Let them remember what it meant to displease me.
Then, when the fear had reached paralyzing levels, I said coolly, “Rise.”
The Dohan failed to do so with their customary grace, limbs stiff from kneeling on the hard stone floor. A smile curled my lips, and one took a step back. I lifted a brow. The knight cleared his throat and then gestured for the room to be vacated. It was reassuring to learn they had not lost all wisdom, or the lessons I’d taught in ages past.
“My queen,” Azon whispered. “So the stories are true. You are risen.”
I inclined my head. “Long have I been bound to the Solomon line, and at last it comes full circle. I return. Choose your course, Knight of the Dohan caste. You may follow me…and receive my favor. Or I will crush you here and now.”
It was not a choice. I never gave true choices. That would offer my subjects the erroneous idea that they had any control over their futile, wretched lives. And in Sheol, I held all the power.
Behind me, the Imaron and my consort kept silent. Their behavior pleased me. If either one dared put himself forward, I’d have executed him on the spot. They had gotten away with such behavior in private because I needed them for the time being. In public, my response to presumption never varied.
“There is only one answer,” Azon said reverently. “You own us, my queen. Simply tell me what you would have and I shall see it done.”
The human girl scrabbled weakly, but I pressed her to silence. She’d had some ridiculous plan of offering her blood to gain their cooperation. I would never stoop to bribery. My will was sufficient to get what I wanted. It always had been. Like a worm, she squirmed at the back of my mind, too weak to wrest control from me.
“You will tell me everything about your business with the Hazo.”
The Demon Queen
It was a beautifully illuminating discussion. Afterward, I demanded accommodations suitable to my station, and I loved watching them scramble to please me. The Dohan had a style all their own, pretentious but elegant. The reason I had never favored them, however, came clear to me as I passed through a corridor swarming with quasits. The Drinkers were all too fond of the little pests.
“I suspect we have an answer to the question as to who was spying on us,” the Imaron said to my consort.
The idea of anyone daring to invade my privacy made me want to have everyone in the compound whipped. I was appeased when they put me in a grand suite, the nicest the complex had to offer. As ever, Greydusk guarded the doors while I explored the bedchamber.
Shortly after I retired to organize my schemes, my quasit turned into a small mammal. I stared at it, wondering what I was doing with such a creature. I approached with interest, but it snarled and tried to bite my fingers. I drew my hand back to kill it, darklight coiling in my palm, but my consort drew my attention with a soft clearing of his throat.
“Is there some way I can serve you, Highness?” The proper subservience in his tone soothed me.
I skimmed him from head to toe. He was…beautiful. I understood why I kept him close; even the Luren lacked such pure physical perfection. And that made me…curious. He wasn’t fully human. Of that I was sure. I flicked my vision over to the astral and surveyed him. His corona possessed the most intriguing edge.
A blink restored my normal sight, and I stalked toward him. To his credit, he stood his ground, head bowed. He didn’t make eye contact, which would’ve enraged me. He was everything I wanted in a male. I would keep this one…forever.
“Are you mine?” I asked, low, knowing the answer already.
“Completely.” His voice thrummed with conviction.
And oh, I liked it.
“So I may do anything I wish with you?”
“Anything.”
I didn’t need his invitation, of course. He belonged to me, like everything in Sheol, but there was more pleasure in a willing slave. I withdrew my athame and took his hand. He shuddered at my touch because I put a thread of power in it, pulled it through him in a flicker of the darkest pleasure. Soon enough he’d beg for this, unable to perform with anyone else. I knew how to enthrall my lovers. With a faint smile, I pricked the tip of his finger. Not as much pain as he expected, I think, but I drew blood. His gasp aroused me. His blood welled like a crimson jewel and I took his fingertip between my lips, tasting him. Learning his secrets.
The revelation was stunning. Delightful. This one was worthy of me.
I sucked a little longer than I had to, after I possessed the knowledge I sought. And he reacted with all of the alacrity I could wish. His lean, lovely body tensed and I scented the heat of his arousal. He wanted to be taken in every manner I could devise.
When I freed his hand from my lips, he reclaimed it slowly. Reluctantly.
“You don’t know what you are,” I said softly. “Do you?”
Mute, dazed with desire, he shook his head.
“What will you give me if I tell you?”
I knew his response before he spoke it. But it pleased me nonetheless.
“Anything,” he whispered.
“Come, sit with me.”
Other lovers would know to be wary of gentleness. But he was so deliciously brand-new that he came without hesitation. It almost made me decide not to break him. We sat on the large bed with him at my feet. He obviously wanted to touch me, but he wouldn’t dare without an invitation. I could keep him ready and aching for hours. My power washed over him, and he groaned, his eyes going hazy.
“Please,” he whispered.
“Then let me tell you a story. There was a girl from Korea who spent a year studying in Japan. She was special, this girl. She had great healing gifts. There, she met a young man. He seemed to be a simple fisherman. They courted. And eventually, beneath the cherry blossoms, they made a child.”
“Me?” The question meant he wasn’t totally lost to the urges coursing through his veins.
“Yes, my darling. Are you ready to find out who your father is?”
“Please,” he said again.
“In Japan, they know him as the Laughing God. Ebisu. The god of fishermen and…luck.”
He seemed starstruck by the revelation. “What does that mean?”
“You’re a demigod. Not immortal precisely, but divine blood, even that of a small god, is enough to guarantee half a millennium. Longer here, of course, as time runs differently.” I smiled at him. “That makes me happy for obvious reasons.”
“My mom never told me.”
Bored with the topic, I hit him with another trill of power, skimming his whole body in the addictive snare. I didn’t want to talk about his intriguing heritage. Divine blood or not, he existed to please me. His breath came faster, his hands curling into fists. I realized then that he was trying to resist. How…delightful.
“Disrobe,” I ordered.
He trembled when he stood, but I didn’t see the beauty of his naked form. Agony lashed through me. Curse this puny human shell. Darkness filled my head.
I had the mother of all hangovers.
But it seemed way wrong that I’d have gone on a bender while I
was supposed to be finding a way to save Shannon. Sitting up, I glanced around, taking stock. The room was lush. Opulent. And I was sure I’d never been here before.
There was also a gaping hole in my memory. I cast back and found myself in the Klothod-driven carriage with Chance and Greydusk. Beyond that, nothing. Bile rose into my throat from my churning stomach. I forced my breath out of its panicked rhythm and sought something familiar in this strange chamber. It was reassuring to find Butch in the corner. And he wasn’t a quasit anymore. Even as a kid, I hadn’t drunk enough to have blackouts or lost time. So this was disturbing as hell.
The door opened, and I looked for a weapon. Nothing nearby, damn it. I relaxed when I spotted Chance. He canted his head, studying me.
“You’re…you.”
“Shit. It happened again?”
“Yeah,” he said softly.
“How long was I out?”
The days I’d bargained from Sybella kept vanishing, thanks to this bitch queen in my head. That might even be part of her plan. Each time she helped me, she also stole time. I hated her. If I could cut her out with a knife, I would. Unfortunately, that would result in a self-lobotomy. She was bonded to me in a way no surgery could remove, the ultimate conjoined twin.
“About eight hours, I think.”
A night’s sleep.
He went on. “The queen took over after we left Club Hell. She managed the meeting with the Dohan. Eventually you passed out. Greydusk has been making excuses as to why nobody can see you, hiding the fact that the queen is not herself.”
Fuck.
“I didn’t even know…” I dug my knuckles into my eyes, fighting the urge to cry.
How could I check her when I couldn’t even see her coming? Hopeless. I was never going to get Shannon out of here. Worse, Chance and I would be stuck. He didn’t love the demon queen, and he’d end up her slave.
He perched on the edge of the bed and reached for me. I resisted at first because I couldn’t doubt I was bad for him. But he persisted, and I was weak. I curled into his arms, rested my head on his chest.
