Bound To The Demon

by C. J. Brookes

  They would take these females, interrogate them, and use them as the bargaining chips they were. They now had the highest female of the Jareth House—and her daughter, the Dardanos heir. They were worth their weight in gold, just in ransom alone. But it was the information they possessed that was so valuable to the wolf now. “Are you suggesting we trade, perhaps?”

  He did not like that idea. The female had intrigued him with her fighting spirit and her smaller feminine body. The golden hair he had easily seen in the moonlight. Demon females were rarely this golden.

  The wolf growled and ran his free hand over his captive’s thigh. “She’s staying with me. I have questions for her. Many, many questions.”

  Something in the wolf’s tone had Rathan studying him more closely. He had known this werewolf since the other male had been barely twenty-one. There were few of any other Kind that Rathan had ever trusted more.

  A blood oath tied them together, but they were more than just that. They were…friends. He didn’t have many of those, not in his position. He cherished everyone—including the four young females who had been killed.

  By Dardaptoans.

  Fury had the scent of sulfur rising around him again. He tamped it down.

  He had work to do now.

  Even some of his own half brothers were not as trustworthy as this Lupoiux werewolf. But there was an intensity about how he was holding that girl now that concerned Rathan. Greatly. It was easy to sense just how out of control the wolf was tonight.

  And that girl—she was very, very young. Information placed her around twenty-five—only a few years past the age of adulthood for a Dardaptoan. “Be gentle with her. It is not she who harmed your sisters and cousins. She is just a means to an end. Remember that in your anger, your grief. She is just a girl.”

  Lupoiux could occasionally be rougher than they intended.

  “I know exactly what she is.” The wolf shifted his burden. The girl whimpered, her eyes trained on the other. Terrified, worried. Mother and daughter. “Dardaptos’s heir.”

  A royal female and the heir of the tribe—there was no logical reason the two females should have been alone and unprotected.

  Except for the phone call he had had the werewolf’s young cousin Jade make. For a moment, guilt hit him. He had not wanted to involve Jade in such duplicity. But he and Rand needed these females now.

  With a touch of the mesmus on his horns, he had compelled Jade to make a simple phone call to lure the females to them.

  Jade, fortunately, would never remember her part in this. Of which he was grateful. Jade had quite the temper when riled.

  “We need to get going,” Rathan said, shifting the female in his arms one more time. Silky hair tickled his cheek. Roses surrounded him to erase the scent of sulfur.

  His fangs lengthened.

  He was Incubi, after all. And starved. Feeding from a female was entrenched in his demon DNA.

  Now, he had a tasty female in his arms again, and he was starved. His body was shouting at him to do what was natural, what was his by right. He was an ancient Incubi, after all.

  Incubi had not always been so honorable. And he was the Incubi king.

  He would feast upon her tonight.

  “Go. We will meet up in twenty-four hours.” Neither of them were fools; these females were great prizes. They would soon be tracked. If they weren’t already.

  He and Rand had devised one simple plan. Divide and conquer. Rand would take one female to the west. Rathan would take the other to the east. Use their fear for each other against them. And then he and Rand would get their questions answered.

  Once that was done, it would be time to negotiate these females’ freedoms. And they were worth ten times their weight—in answers. Neither Rathan nor the wolf had need of gold, but answers…were infinitely precious.

  The lack of answers to what had happened to two of Rand’s sisters and two of his cousins were driving the wolf mad.

  Lupoiux were pack animals, and even though Rand’s sisters were not Lupoiux but human, it was his task and duty to protect his pack. At all costs.

  That he had failed was destroying the wolf now.

  “Watch your back,” the werewolf said. The female in his arms was not fighting him, just lying passively against him. Rathan shifted closer, until he could see her eyes more fully.

  The terror there had guilt flooding him again. No doubt, it was the first time she had been abducted.

  Most captives were kept for political reasons. This was ultimately no different. The king of the Dardaptoans—the dhar, as he was called—had ordered the taking of two of Rand’s young sisters and two of his female cousins.

  But it wasn’t a political abduction—or they would have already been sent a list of demands to be met.

  Rathan couldn’t sense their human souls anywhere in this world.

  He hadn’t been able to since the night they had been taken.

  Rathan was convinced those four sweet, young females who had welcomed him into their homes and lives like a long-lost brother were now dead. Otherwise, he would have been able to flash to their sides.

  At least, Rand’s twin, Mallory.

  His own blood flowed through that female’s veins. He should have been able to find Mallory anywhere in the Gaian world. Unless she was dead. Unless they all were. Victims of the vampiric bastards who had taken them from the safety of the family ranch where the four had lived. Under heavy guard.

  Those guards were recovering still.

  Rathan was forcing himself not to take the attack too personally. It was all for political reasons. Lupoiux and the more feline Dardaptoan vampires had been at war for millennia.

  War was a way of life in the demon world. The majority of his own tasks as king was to keep the wars under control as much as possible. It was a bit less barbaric in Gaia than it was Relaklonos. Now. It hadn’t always been that way.

  “I will be just fine. This is just a moment in time for one such as this king.” His female captive shifted a bit, even unconscious. Rathan patted her bottom absently.

  The wolf snorted. “Keep your paws off her. Do your feeding in her fantasies and leave her flesh alone. Last thing you need is to bring the Dardaptoans to war with your realm. Especially over a damned bloodsucker like her. Use her and toss her back to where she came from. For information, not food.”

  “Hmmm. Do not forget, these females are most likely innocent of any sins.” Rathan’s female shifted in his arms. Her lips brushed his neck, even in her sleep. She thirsted, then.

  He frowned. He had held a few female Dardaptoans before.

  Most had felt quite a bit more substantial than this one. This one felt half starved. Which was ridiculous, considering her wealth and position.

  She should have hungered for nothing.

  He turned his neck and gave a slight command. While under the mesmus, she would be remarkably compliant—one reason the use of the mesmus on unsuspecting females was strictly forbidden by laws he had set into place thousands of years ago.

  He was king; laws did not truly apply to him.

  He gave the command for her to drink. She took to his neck like she was starved, tiny fangs sinking deep into his neck, and she pulled from him.

  He did not want her weak on the hike they had this night. He could carry her for the entire distance if he had to. But he would like her awake so he could begin the interrogation.

  He needed answers. And soon.

  His time in the human world of Gaia was almost at an end.

  His beloved Relaklonos, the kingdom he had ruled for over five thousand years, needed him.

  He could not split himself two ways. Rathan need to finish with this vengeance of Rand’s and return to his world soon.

  He would find the answers he sought tonight.

  “You deal with yours; I’ll handle this female as I see fit. Now go. The guards will be upon us far too soon.”

  3

  Rathan hiked, the female no real burden, even
with the bulky sweater covering her torso and the thin boots on her feet. Someone, most likely a Laquazzeana with far too much power in their hands, somewhere was messing with the weather now. It was getting colder.

  Far too damned cold tonight.

  His plans were going to have to change.

  Dardaptoans were even more susceptible to the cold than humans. This female could die if the temperature slipped much below fifty, which it was already threatening to do. It was just a matter of time.

  The female shivered against him.

  He had to find her shelter. Get her warm. Before she succumbed and all their planning was for naught.

  Hopefully, the werewolf was doing the same with his own burden.

  The female slept, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Occasionally, she would hum a sound in his ear. A soft, sexy little puff of air against his neck that would have his groin tightening.

  As she tried to snuggle closer.

  He had more control than his body seemed to think. He cuddled the female near to provide necessary body heat, as the sun began to rise. He would find a cave. They would wait out the next several hours within it. He would have his questions answered from her.

  Then after they had rested, they would meet up again with the wolf at a private cabin that not many even knew existed.

  It was the headquarters for the Taniss Lupoiux Wolf Pack, run by Rand. It was that wolf pack that would be attacking the city of Dardanos in search of Rand’s missing family.

  Or it would be that pack that sought vengeance for their lost souls.

  Whatever was needed.

  Grief threatened to overcome him again, as he thought of those four females. Rathan would freely admit that he loved them as much, perhaps more, than he did several of his own half sisters.

  He had far too many sisters to know well, but he had grown close to Rand’s. And their cousins.

  His arms tightened on the female in his arms when she whimpered. She was of the enemy Kind, yes, but he did not feel she was his enemy.

  He did not wish her harm. Far from it. He just wanted answers about Joselyn, Emily, Mallory, and Mickey. If the blonde in his arms was cooperative, he would see her safely home in as little as three days. If she didn’t cooperate, well…he was the king.

  He had ways to ensure that she gave him exactly what he wanted.

  Perhaps she would wish to be kept as a pet in his kingdom for five hundred years or so. That would teach her to cooperate with the king. She would be the first Dardaptoan female to face such a fate. Perhaps; he did not recall seeing one, but that did not mean it had not happened.

  Dardaptoans avoided demons for the most part, except for those vile Predatoi demon hunters. Those Dardaptoan bastards all deserved to die for what they did to his people.

  Small lips nuzzled the vein in his neck. She thirsted again, then. It wasn’t something he enjoyed doing, but he had fed bloodsuckers before. Even lovers. Especially his former lovers. If blood-drinking was something they’d needed, he’d provided.

  He was an eleven-thousand-year-old Incubi demon, after all.

  There were more than three hundred Kinds of demons he ruled over; at least a quarter of those Kinds were bloodsuckers. He’d let lovers drink from him before.

  “Drink, little pet. For as long as you thirst.”

  Even in her sleep, she obeyed. Small fangs pierced his neck.

  He kept her close as she drank, as he searched the countryside for an opening just big enough for the two of them. He finally found what he’d been searching for.

  He set the female down gently. Then with a quick incantation, he had a den worthy of any shifter Kind opening before him. It would keep them warm and dry, and with the small stream running through the back of it, would provide them fish and water for their dinner.

  The female would be cared for.

  On his honor, she would. Then once she answered a few questions and he bargained her back to her people, she would be safe at home with her daughter by her side. Perhaps with the mate who was no doubt frantic by now.

  He frowned.

  He had found many mentions of the female’s daughter—but no mention of the mate.

  A Dardaptoan female always had a mate; those who had young would not be living if they were to lose their males. Not Dardaptoans. Their souls wove together too tightly for one mate to survive without the other.

  No. There was most likely a mate for this female out there somewhere. That male would be searching for her and their daughter soon. If he wasn’t already.

  Rathan would search for her if she were his.

  The spirit with which she had attacked him earlier had intrigued him. Brave, strong, fierce when needed—those were more demon-warrior traits than female Dardaptoan. Dardaptoan females were runners, not fighters.

  They would only hiss and fight when seriously cornered. When there was no other hope of escape.

  He had no blanket for her to rest upon, but there was moss in this lair of his. He spread her over it carefully.

  Golden eyes popped open.

  She looked at him fully as memory sank in.

  She should not have been able to throw off the mesmus that quickly. “Female. How do you feel now?”

  “Cloudy. What did you do to me? What are you?” Her words were slurred, and she closed her eyes again. Rathan leaned over her.

  “Have you not guessed? I am Rathan. The demon king. The High King, actually. I am going to ask you some questions soon.”

  “Demon…” She blinked again. There were three faint freckles on her left cheek. Rathan leaned closer to study them. “Damn you…where is my daughter?”

  “She’s safe. Just as you are.”

  “Kidnapped. Again.”

  “I prefer abducted. You aren’t exactly a child.” No, a child she wasn’t. “Tell me your name.” There should be enough mesmus in her system to make her compliant.

  “Kindara…Jareth.”

  At her surname, Rathan’s anger returned full force. He had known many of her line. One had killed his young cousin five hundred years ago. Another Jareth had attacked Rand’s twin sister, Mallory, years ago, leaving her traumatized in ways Rathan would not think about now, lest the fury returned. “How old are you, Kindara of Jareth? Tell me.”

  “Four hundred nineteen.”

  Not a young female, but certainly nowhere near as old as he. Experienced enough for what he had in mind, though. “You are my prisoner, Kindara of Jareth. Now, we must decide what that entails.”

  “Demon…make a deal?” She was fighting the mesmus’s hold on her body. Remarkable. That should not be possible. Except…she was a healer of her Kind and rumored to be a strong one. He supposed anything was possible.

  “A deal?”

  “You are demon. Have to make a deal.” Her eyes closed again. He watched her as she slipped further under his spell.

  Rathan went to work. He bound her hands gently, securing them around a large rock. He set a soft glow dancing around the cavern. It illuminated the female, revealing a truly startling display of Dardaptoan female allure. The hair was gold silk, long and straight. It had to reach almost to her waist. The eyes were the typical tilted of her Kind. The ears were higher than a demon or a human’s, but small and delicate with just a touch of a point. It matched the pointed little chin. Her lips were soft and parted and perfect.

  Her arms were thin, and were he to remove her tunic, he had no doubt her ribs would show through. This female was not in the best of health.

  He didn’t want to admit it, but that concerned him.

  No female Dardaptoan should be this thin and weak. Something more was going on with this one. How that impacted his and Rand’s plan, he did not yet know.

  He studied the female for a long while, noting everything about her.

  4

  The bed she lay on was prickly and smelled strongly of pine. Whatever was covering her caused her skin to itch. There was a chill in the air, air that smelled slightly musty.

 
; There was a warm body beside her. Kindara tried to push him away.

  A masculine laugh was her only reward. A laugh she remembered from the edge of the highway.

  The hands slipped beneath her tunic to ghost across her abdomen.

  She tried to pull her wits about her. This wasn’t the first time she’d been abducted. Her abductors had always tried to get the upper hand quickly. It was just a part of the process. “Who are you?”

  “Rathan.”

  “What are you?” He wasn’t human, and he wasn’t Dardaptoan or Lupoiux werewolf. She would have sensed that, as a healer.

  “Demon.”

  Kindara cringed. Demons were soulless, amoral, conscienceless beasts from another realm that preyed on all Kinds, including Dardaptoan. She’d been fortunate in her four hundred nineteen years of living to only have crossed paths with a handful of demons, and never while alone. But her brother had told her much about them.

  Kindara didn’t doubt this demon would be Cormac’s next kill. If Kindara could stay alive and untouched long enough to make it back to her brother. Cormac was a Predatoi, a demon hunter of notable skill, and he’d killed hundreds through the years.

  Cormac would be coming for her.

  “Why did you do this? Where’s Jierra?” The last thing Kindara remembered was her daughter’s scream. She bucked, tried to kick the demon away from her. He just smiled again and slid closer. To stare down at her.

  “She will not be hurt. She’s just a hostage. As are you. For the time being.”

  Kindara stared back at him. He was huge, sculpted male perfection. Strong, broad shoulders, dark eyes and hair. And if she looked closely, she could see the horns and the pointed teeth that all demons possessed. He could consume her.

  Some demons ate her Kind, after all. Her brother had made certain she knew that long ago.

  “My daughter. She’s my daughter, and she’s only a babe.” Kindara’s words came out in a sob of anger as one knee connected with the demon’s thigh. “Where is she?”

  Rathan smirked at the female. “She is with the Lupoiux now.”