Текст книги "Sins of the Demon"

Автор книги: Diana Rowland

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 24

I’d been to the demon realm once before. The last time I was here I’d been close to death. I remembered lying on a white marble floor. I remembered it was full of light and wonder. I’d been in the throne room of Rhyzkahl, and it was beautiful. A throne of white and gold. Marble walls and open archways. A turquoise sea and demons in flight.

Even without looking up, I could tell this was different.

I was on my hands and knees on a dark stone floor. Blood dripped from my nose with thick plops, marring the grey of the stone. Razor coils of pain wound around my limbs, slowly fading as I struggled to catch my breath through the burning in my lungs. Holy shit, but that hurt. Did it hurt the demons like that when I summoned them? If so, why would they ever agree to go through that? Because that sucked ass.

I slowly pushed myself back to sit on my heels, blinking to focus. I wasn’t surprised to see that I was inside a summoning circle. Even without shifting into othersight I had no trouble seeing the bindings and protections wound around the perimeter. I didn’t make any attempt to move from the center. I was already hurting enough.

A young man stood a few feet from the edge of the circle, looking almost absurdly pleased with himself. He had a slim, athletic build—easy to see since he was naked from the waist up. Below the waist he wore black jeans and boots with silver buckles—the kind one could find in a goth shop. Pale grey eyes met mine. Curly blond hair stood out in a halo around his head. I pegged him at eighteen or nineteen, at the most.

I frowned at him. “Aren’t you a little young to be a demonic lord?”

His smug smile flickered into a scowl. “You will not speak until I give you leave.”

“Oh, fuck off, blondie,” I said, levering myself carefully to my feet. “I’ve had tougher people than you try to shut me up.”

Anger suffused his face. Good. I wanted him riled up. Kill me quickly so that I could get out of this place. I crossed my arms over my chest and regarded him sourly. I could feel the blood still trickling from my nose, and I wiped it away simply to keep it out of my mouth.

“You’re not a demonic lord,” I stated. He didn’t have the feel about him, the aura of power. So what was he? Just a summoner on this side of the portal?

He puffed up again in anger, but before he could speak a deep laugh sounded from the darkness behind him. “You didn’t really think you’d be able to fool her, did you?”

A man in a dark business suit stepped forward into the light. He didn’t have to say anything. Thiswas the demonic lord. The aura announced him more than anything else could have.

He stopped at the edge of the circle. For several heartbeats we regarded each other. He was not quite as tall as Rhyzkahl, but only by an inch or two. The suit he wore was clearly expensive—Armani perhaps—and so exquisitely tailored that it didn’t feel the least bit odd to see a demonic lord dressed in such a way. His features looked faintly oriental, though his eyes were a piercing silver grey. Jet black hair was bound back by gold cord in an intricate braid that hung to the small of his back.

And power shimmered from him in pulsing waves. A year ago I’d have most likely been curled into a mewling ball on the floor. But I was more used to the demonic lord mojo now. At least that’s what I told myself. It was also possible that he hadn’t turned the full force of his aura onto me.

“I don’t know who you are,” I said, fighting to maintain something akin to dignity, “but you seem to have a great deal of interest in me, since you’ve been trying to summon me for quite some time now.”

“I’ve been interested in you for far longer than that,” he said. He crouched just beyond the circle, idly peering at the designs carved into the floor. “You are likely thinking that, if you can find a way to die in this realm, you will return to your own world.” He lifted those silver-grey eyes to mine. “Such transfers grow progressively difficult. There is less chance you will make it through the void a second time.” He said it conversationally, as if he was telling me I should bring an umbrella in case it rained.

My stomach tightened. There went my one plan for escape. My gaze dropped to an object in his hand. It looked like an intricate and lovely choker-style necklace.

Made out of a familiar pinkish-coppery metal.

I dragged my eyes away from it, casting my attention elsewhere, anywhere but that thing. And for the first time I got a good look at the room we were in. Dark grey marble walls. Enough to make the room almost circular. I looked down, half-expecting to see the shattered remains of a statue here in the circle with me, though I knew there was nothing there.

“What is this place?” I managed to say, fighting back the fear that threatened to drop me to my knees.

He moved into the circle. “Don’t you recognize it?” he said, lifting the necklace.

I didn’t move or resist as he placed the thing around my neck. It wouldn’t have done any good anyway. I answered him with a slight shake of my head.

A vulpine smile curved his mouth. “It’s your old summoning chamber,” he said.

And then he snapped the collar closed.