My Demon Warlord

by Carolyn Jewel

  He was unbelievably gorgeous. No man should have eyes like that. This was better, safer, not having a connection with him, but she didn’t like being around a demon who didn’t resonate with her at any level, especially Kynan, with his long and troubled history.

  He was staring out the window. “I’ll reach out to Harsh and Addison tomorrow.” He didn’t seem to be experiencing any side effects. Not the way she was. “They might know something more about Cifai and Garzon.”

  She pressed her palms on the table. Still hollow. Still trembling. Fighting harder than she wanted to. “Good idea. Find out what they know.”

  Slowly, he stood, his attention on the window again. The world skewed, and she steadied herself against the dizziness. Blocked off from Kynan like this, she was unable to correctly perceive her environment except in this strange one-off way that involved watching distortions around him.

  She ran her fingers through her hair and immediately hated that she was having so much trouble. She wasn’t weak. She refused to be weak. Her concentration was shot. Palming one of the star rubies didn’t help in the least. The resulting surge in her magic lacked immediacy.

  While she continued to struggle, Kynan walked to the window. The palm of his left hand rested on the side of the window, just above his shoulder. All around him the air shimmered with strands of color. He turned his head enough to see her from the corner of his eye. “You should have died after what I did to you. You were supposed to.”

  “I know.”

  “You should’ve died a hundred times because of what I did.” The wards he’d made in the glass pulsed. “None of the others I did even half that shit with lived. Not one, and Magellan sent me after plenty. You lived. You stopped me.”

  “And?” Irregular black dots floated in front of her eyes, and there was a constant buzz. Neurons firing for no reason. She couldn’t tell where she was in space. Her world existed solely of howling, hollow desolation. She reached for the table again, but this time she misjudged where it was. Rubies spilled onto the floor, pinging against the wood surface and rolling away.

  He left the window to recover the scattered gems, and again she lost sight of him as someone she knew. His name was Kynan Aijan, but he was a facsimile of the Kynan of her memories. They didn’t know each other. Someone had told her who he was, and he was faking it all, and she was just going along with it.

  He held out his hand. If she moved, she’d be dizzy again, or the world would vanish into swirls and streaks. He wasn’t holding out the rubies, she realized. His eyes were fixed on her, and wide open. Concerned.

  Her hearing temporarily cut out.

  And came back with a rush.

  “–until you decide you’re fine to kick me to the curb.”

  She had no idea how to fill in the blanks. She managed a smile. “Nobody kicks you out of bed for eating crackers.”

  He didn’t laugh, and this was just all messed up. She put her hand on his, and there was nothing between them. No spark. No heat.

  “Sit down, and I’ll get us something to drink.”

  “Okay.”

  His fingers closed around her hand, and she let him lead her to the couch. Her vision filled with streaks and swirls, flashes of color. He held out his other hand when they were standing in front of the couch. “Your rubies. You need them more than I do.”

  That was a joke, she realized. A good one since he probably didn’t want them at all. His extended hand wavered in and out of sight. Streams of glowing reddish-pink glistened in the air and flexed over and around his palm and fingers. She reached out.

  He captured her wrist and held it to one side. “I’ll just put them in your pocket for you, okay? Hold still.” He slid his hand into a front pocket of her jeans and unfurled his fingers long enough to let the rubies roll in. It brought them close together. So close she felt the heat of his body and caught the faint scent of sand. Her normal reaction to something like this would be to push him away. She didn’t because he wasn’t being a jerk and besides, she’d probably miss him.

  He cupped her elbow while she sat. “Easy there.”

  Once she was on the couch, her dizziness settled significantly and gave her hope she might actually be okay. She only had to last until Nikodemus got here.

  Kynan headed for the kitchen, and immediately her uneasiness increased.

  Where was he? Where was he? What if he didn’t come back?

  She wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs and concentrated on what she knew. What she knew was that Kynan would not leave her. She would get through this. Withdrawal from addiction always crescendoed before the downhill to recovery. All she had to do was persevere through the worst of it.

  What was she going to do if this wasn’t the trough?

  CHAPTER 21

  She woke to the gentle back-and-forth sweep of a thumb over her shoulder. So calming. The room was dark, but there were lights on elsewhere in the house. Somehow she’d fallen asleep, and someone had his arm around her, keeping her tucked against this side.

  “Hey,” he said. He shifted on the sofa and brought her closer. “Good sleep?”

  “Yes.” Kynan Aijan. She had to look to be sure it was him. They were in the living room still, and it was still dark out. She’d slept, but not for long.

  “Do you feel better?”

  She surveyed herself. Her dizziness was gone. So was the desolation that had so completely taken over her. His dropped his head and pressed his lips to the back of her neck. Soft and tender mouth, then the flick of a warm tongue. Her eyelids weighed a thousand pounds, and she yawned long and sleepily.

  “Go back to sleep if you want.”

  She leaned against him. “Mm,” was about all she could manage in response. She wasn’t feeling as awful as before, and that was a relief.

  “If anything comes up, I’ll wake you.” The man who only looked like Kynan laughed with his voice. “Solemn promise from the guy you hate.”

  “I don’t hate you,” she said.

  “Course not.”

  “I don’t hate myself, either.”

  “No reason to,” he said softly.

  She lifted her head. “I don’t regret anything, but that doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about us. Or about Nikodemus. All I know is we can’t go after Sessani with me like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “A wreck.”

  “You can’t go, Winters.” He stopped smiling. “You’re not sworn.”

  “I will be as soon as Nikodemus gets here.” She hated that he was so careful about her. She also hated that he was falling back into his old habit of being a pain in the ass. “I am not staying behind.”

  “No one’s indispensable. Not even you.”

  Here was reason for real panic. It was one thing for her to be convinced she could get through this. She did believe that. It was another thing to realize there might not be time. “The odds change without me.”

  This time his silence was hard as ice. Implacable. Without knowing what was going on with his magic, she was lost. She didn’t know whether he was faking that reaction or whether it was genuine. “I don’t think so, Winters.”

  Being this close to him was settling her down, relieving her panic. “If Sessani showed up right now, I’d be worthless.”

  “Winters.” He rubbed a hand over his hair, back to its original length. “Is this killing you?” he asked. “Unless you think it is, tough it out.”

  “Not that long ago you were begging me not to.”

  “Not that long ago I thought I had a shot at convincing you.”

  She didn’t answer, which was answer enough right there. “How bad is it for you?” she asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  She looked up. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, and she studied him for evidence that he was feeling this at all. “How bad?”

  “Not as bad as it is for you.”

  He didn’t deserve this any more than she did. “Suppose more mages come here? What then?”


  “I’ll kill them. Durian’s here. He’ll help.”

  She moved closer, then thought maybe she shouldn’t and edged away. “It’s okay if you hate me,” she said. “I understand if you do, and it’s okay.”

  He tightened his arms around her and brought her close. “It’s been a long time since I’ve hated you.”

  He sounded so. . .unemotional. This wasn’t what she was used to with him. For so long she’d held on to an image of him as too young—stupid, stupid, stupid—too sullen, not reliable. Dangerous and borderline sane. Never, ever someone she could talk to about anything that wasn’t business, and now she had to confront the possibility that all this time she’d been wrong. Or that he’d changed and healed, and she’d refused to see. She put a hand on his chest and after a moment rested her forehead against his chest.

  He cupped his hand over the back of her head. “Whatever you need, Winters.”

  “You. Right now, I think I need you.” She let out a breath. He was different. So different she was unmoored. “I must be out of my mind.”

  “No more than I am.” He laughed, but she didn’t. All the frustrating, baffling, impossible attraction between them was back, but quieter this time. None of the frenzy. He slipped a hand between them and unbuttoned whatever buttons of her shirt weren’t already unfastened. “Okay?”

  “Yes.”

  He pushed her shirt off her shoulders, and she slipped her arms free of the sleeves. He reached around to unfasten her bra. He let it fall away from her. “Oh, Maddy,” he whispered. “So beautiful. Always so beautiful.” He scooted down, pushing one of her shoulders flat to the sofa, and took her nipple into his mouth. Her reaction went straight to her vagina. She was ready for him, wet and full of longing.

  Reverent, even, the way he touched her. His mouth slid down her torso, and she let go of all their previous problems. None of that existed in this moment. Reality consisted of what his mouth and hands were doing. He unfastened her jeans, and she wriggled free of them. His lips hovered over her stomach while one hand slid along her sex, gliding through wetness.

  “Let me, Maddy. Let me, let me.” His words were low, a soft murmur that vibrated along her skin. “Let me take us both wherever you need.”

  She couldn’t even remember now whether he’d ever given her head. If he had, then not like this. She hadn’t ever just fallen apart like this, so completely open to what he was doing with his mouth, now his tongue.

  “More. This. More.” The words came from her with every ounce of the desperation she felt. This was as close to vanilla sex as she’d had in years, and it was throwing her out of her mind.

  He drew back, and she bowed toward him, then pushed up on her elbows. His eyes were brilliant gold, flashing through a host of colors. He put his hand on her sex, fingers slowly stroking her. She looked him up and down. Gorgeous. So gorgeous.

  “How safe is it for you to take copa?” he asked.

  “I’ve never used.” Which meant she was nowhere near the point of addiction or burnout.

  He stretched down for his jeans and yanked them close. When he straightened, he was holding the copa he’d shoved into his pocket earlier. “I’ll keep you cut off from me, but I promise you this will make it better for us both.” A corner of his mouth quirked when he divided it in half. “It’s a kink for me. Either way, better if I stay relaxed.”

  He took half the copa and held the rest to her lips. She opened her mouth, and he placed the substance on her tongue. She knew enough to swallow everything at once. He made a low sound of anticipation, and then he took her mouth in a kiss that curled her toes.

  For a while, she thought the copa wasn’t working, not that it mattered given the way Kynan was kissing her. He drew back from that soul-stealing kiss, and when she opened her eyes, she saw colors she couldn’t name. Corners refused to meet at an angle. Her magic whirled through her, and though she continued to have no sense at all of his magic, she could tell from Kynan’s eyes that he was holding power.

  “Good?” she asked. She wondered whether his sworn were whispering to him again, and if they were, whether they were still calling for vengeance.

  “Hell yes.” He kissed his way down her body, nipping once or twice, then back up. “One day,” he said in a low voice, “One day we’ll do this when we’re linked.” She settled herself, legs parted, offering herself, and he growled and pushed inside her. She whirled away in haze of arousal. “You’re safe with me, always safe.”

  She touched him, ran her hands along his shoulders and all the ridges and dips of his muscled torso, and floated with his touch, with his every stroke into her. She objected when he withdrew. But he didn’t leave her.

  One minute he was human, the next he wasn’t. She’d seen this form before since he favored it for fighting. He was everything you’d expect from a creature who’d just stepped from the illuminated pages of a bestiary. Bronze hide, obsidian claws that glittered gold whenever she blinked. His eyes stayed gold and continued to hold hers. He shifted again, and this form she did not know. Wings, a longer neck, more muscle, everything bigger, and those same penetrating golden eyes.

  He stayed in this form she’d not seen before and touched the side of her head. How bizarre to see him like this and feel none of his magic when in fact the room must be trembling with it. “Imagine us together here, too.” He tapped her temple. “So caught up we hardly know the difference between us.”

  His mouth opened enough to show the edges of teeth meant to rend and tear. Her breath hitched. She knew the next form he took, doglike, but not a dog, but he didn’t hold that form for more than a few seconds before he was back to human. Without a word, he grabbed her thighs and brought her to him, and in the same motion slammed into her. He was on top because he could not tolerate in sex in a position where his physical control was in doubt. She’d never been willing to give him the psychic link he needed to get around that issue of his. So many things they hadn’t done.

  A groan of bliss erupted from her, and she met him stroke for stroke, and when he turned her onto her stomach, she stayed low because she knew that worked for him, and right now it was working for her. She gave herself over, and he felt the difference, and maybe she wouldn’t survive pleasure this intense.

  He put his mouth by her ear, then gently bit the tip. “Let’s risk everything.” The words, rough with greed and desire, about killed her. “All of it. You say yes at the start and then we break all the rules. No baggage, none of the old bullshit.” His voice descended into a growl. He stroked a hand down her body, hard. “Give yourself to me when we’re like this. Acknowledge me.”

  She held him close and listened to the emotion carried with the words he used. He meant them. He meant to devour her.

  “Acknowledge me, and you will never be alone.” He swept a finger down the side of her face. He was breaking her open, dropping truth into the silence she’d thought was safe. “I will be your fiercest ally.” He brought her close, so close to him, but he did not stop speaking to her as if he were in her head this very moment. “Acknowledge me, and when we’re like this, I will fuck you exactly the way you need.” He slid a thigh between hers, nudging, whispering. “I’ll make love to you whenever that’s what you need.”

  “And you?” She put her arms around his shoulders and held tight because some part of her was afraid he would slip away from her forever. “What do you need?”

  “You.” He drew back, smiling, but the distance and sense of unreality that was an effect of being cut off from him prevented her from knowing whether his smile was genuine or a facsimile. There was nothing human about him now, despite the perfection of his form. “Your heart, your blood, the marrow of your bones. Give me that, and you and I will be even at last.”

  She shifted her hips, legs parted, and he thrust inside her, and there was silence between them, the quiet of centuries past, and he made love to her this time, perfectly, with passion and tenderness, and he brought tears to her eyes that she refused to shed.


  “You have always been the one,” he said, because he was a demon and demons understood human desire, and how badly she needed those words to be true. He whispered the words to her again, low and tender, and her heart wept, and she could not bear it. “The others knew,” he said. “They knew it was you.”

  “Hush,” she said. “Don’t say that. I can’t live if you say that.” He devastated her, his voice, his words, the touch of him, their bodies moving together. He traced a circle on her shoulder, and she trembled, shook with the force of their passion. He followed, whispering to her heart.

  In the silence afterward, he stroked her, kissed her shoulder, and left his hand on her stomach until she stirred. Typical of the demonkind, she told herself, with their need for touch. He sat up halfway while she got dressed, watching her in silence.

  “After that,” she said, “I need a shower.”

  His eyes flickered from gold to green to shades of red and back. “Sure.”

  “I’m crazy tired.” She pushed her hair behind her shoulders and hoped he didn’t see her trembling arms. “And not.”

  “Sleep some more, if you can.”

  Her stomach clenched when she headed upstairs. She ignored the discomfort, her rising anxiety, but her lack of access to him gnawed at her. Her mind circled endlessly around the sensation of loss and emptiness. She felt sick to her stomach, and her hands were shaky and clammy. She wasn’t used to being unable to sense one of the kin, let alone Kynan. The farther she got from him, the more isolated she felt. The explanation was simple enough. The bonds on her side were starved. The greater the distance between her and Kynan, the worse she felt. The ache in her got sharper and sharper until it was unwelcome pain.

  She could deal with this, however unpleasant it was, the way she’d deal with a chronic medical condition: by enduring until she forgot there was any other way to feel. This sense of loss and emptiness was her new reality, but she would adjust. She had to. This was no different than those long years when she’d been alone, rejected by other magekind for her refusal of their traditions.