Текст книги "Touch of the Demon"

Автор книги: Diana Rowland

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The lord took hold of the scarf, wound it back around my throat. He held both ends of it while he stood behind me. He didn’t pull, but I knew he wanted me to understand that he could, that he was in control. I swallowed hard, throat moving against the fabric. He gave a light tug, shifting it tighter though nowhere near to the point of choking me. Didn’t matter. Totally had me freaked out. My instincts screamed at me to run, but I knew he would enjoy such a chase, knew that it would end badly for me.

A low whimper escaped me as he exerted slow pressure on the scarf to pull me back against him. He inhaled, mouth close to my ear.

“I know your scent, baztakh,” he murmured, voice resonant with a promise of pain, and terror, and mind-fucking torment.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I sought to tap my anger. He was doing this solely to scare me. And yeah, he was doing a damn good job of it, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t also piss me off. Taking a deep breath, I focused on the peace and calm of the grove.

Still at my back, he released the scarf and put his hands on my shoulders. The way he slid them down my arms almost made me wish it was a sexual move instead of the unknown that it was.

“Perhaps, when Rhyzkahl has finished using you, he will pass you to me.” Dark amusement colored his voice. “I would gladly accept you as partial payment.”

I drew a stupid mental pygah and focused on the peace of the grove, slowing my breathing and regaining my composure despite the extreme level of revulsion. “Payment? For what?”

He laughed and set his hands on both sides of my neck, middle fingers tracing over my larynx. “Such matters are not shared with pets.”

“I am not, and never will be, a pet,” I managed to snarl, holding the feel of the grove close to me.

“Ah, you want to play, little pet?” He chuckled low. “I would very much enjoy that.”

“You bore me,” I said. Play? I had no idea what he was talking about, but I did my damnedest to put as much contempt into my voice as possible. Probably would have been better without the quaver, but I did my best. “I wish no game with you. You’re pathetic.”

He gave a low laugh, moved languidly around to face me. “You do not smell bored. You do not…feel bored.” He ran a finger along my clenched jaw, smiled. Hunger danced in his violet eyes. “Subside or rise fully and show me how pathetic I am.”

What the hell was he talking about? Rise fully? He’s fucking with me, I decided. There was no way I could best a lord.

His eyes stayed on my face, amusement flickering in them as he gauged my reaction to his challenge. He let out a low laugh as he reached and shoved me lightly in the chest, still watching as if studying me.

I took a step back. He was definitely goading me, but to what end? Did he truly expect me to strike out at him? I wasn’t thatstupid.

A reyza landed a few feet behind and to the right of the lord. It crouched and bared teeth at me, but this was no reyza smile. As I looked at the demon, recognition tugged, but I couldn’t understand why. I’d never summoned this one. I knew that much. Kehlirik was the only reyza I’d ever summoned. And this wasn’t one of Mzatal’s.

Ice dropped into my belly as the memory struck—my own memory, my own pain: A reyza bellowing as he leaped at me, claws extended. A burning tug at my belly. The sight of my bowels coiled on the floor in front of me. The growing pool of blood.

Sweat stung my armpits despite the chill in the air. This was Sehkeril, the reyza who’d aided the Symbol Man serial killer during his final attempt to summon and bind Rhyzkahl. Sehkeril had eviscerated me, and I had only minutes to live when Rhyzkahl brought me back to the demon realm and allowed me to die here.

The lord closed the gap between us. “I will go now and speak to Rhyzkahl about arrangements,” he said, cold amusement in his voice. He leaned in close—far too close—face beside mine as he murmured in my ear. “Sehkeril will keep you company while I am away.”

The lord pressed a forefinger into the notch of my throat above my collarbones, just enough to be painful without doing any actual damage. What the hell?He smiled as I coughed, looked upon me for another unpleasant moment, then turned and headed away.

Sehkeril growled and clicked his claws together, quite clearly trying to unsettle me. He didn’t need to; his creepy lord had taken care of maxing out my freakout, and all I wanted to do right then was to get away from this place. Surely the reyza wouldn’t hurt me while I was in Rhyzkahl’s realm? Hoping that was true, I turned away from him and hurried back down the stone steps toward the palace, but I heard claws on stone and a near constant growl as he followed. My heart pounded a crazy rhythm as I descended the steps, and my back prickled. I fully expected a shove from behind or some other harassment.

I heard a rush of wings followed by Kehlirik’s voice, speaking in demon to Sehkeril, and it definitely wasn’t a friendly How ya doin’?Glancing back, I saw that Kehlirik was keeping the other reyza occupied. I breathed a silent thanks, but still quickened my pace as soon as I reached the path. I crested the low hill, and the grove came into view. That’s where I wanted to be—shielded within the embrace of those living walls. I wasn’t safe here, that was for sure.

I’m notsafe, I realized with sick disappointment. I’d come here– escapedto here—assuming I would be safe, that I wouldn’t be hurt or harassed or mistreated.

I shot a quick glance behind me as the two reyza took flight, snarling at each other. I wanted to be in the grove, but more than that, I wanted to be away from here.

Why not leave?I suddenly thought. Why notfind someplace safe and quiet where I could think and ponder and get my head back to where it needed to be. But I don’t know this world, and I really do try not to be extraordinarily stupid.My gaze went back to the grove, and the familiar calm seeped through me. It couldtake me someplace safe, I realized as clearly as if the grove had spoken to me—and then I somehow knew it had done just that. I didn’t know how sentient it was, but I knew, as surely as I’d known that I could use the grove to travel, that it would take me away from Rhyzkahl’s realm to someplace safe, with no alien or undue perils, where I could begin to process everything.

Kehlirik and Sehkeril were high and behind me, flying a snarling, hissing aerial dance. If I was going to do this, now was likely my only chance. No…Iam doing this. I’m leaving.It was the right move. I knew it. Neither reyza seemed to notice me taking the path toward the grove, but I knew it was only a matter of seconds before they did. I made a quick scan for any other demons nearby and didn’t see any. It wasn’t very far. I could do this.

I bolted and took off at a dead run for the grove as fast as my not-very-athletic body could manage. If I had any luck at all the two reyza would remain occupied with whatever the hell dominance game they were playing.

Clearly, I had no luck whatsoever, for a bellow sounded not even a heartbeat later. I sprinted all out, eyes on the grove as I gasped for breath. I figured, worst case scenario—meaning Kehlirik broke off immediately—I had about a count of ten to make it to the trees. Once I was within that tree tunnel I was home free. I knew that. The grove wouldn’t let anyone pull me away. Five, six, seven; hope rose within me. I was actually going to make it. An exultant smile spread across my face despite the deep burning of my lungs and legs from the sudden exertion. Eight, nine…

The mark on my forearm flared white-hot then went utterly cold as a wave of weakness slammed into me. I stumbled, then sprawled to my belly in an awkward slide. I couldn’t even get my hands up to break my fall, and pain lanced through my cheek and forehead as the coarse grass scraped my face. I struggled to focus, to get up, to run those last few feet, but my body had zero strength in it. I couldn’t even lift my head to look toward the grove, though I could feel it right there.

The world dipped and spun. Kehlirik landed beside me and crouched, crooning softly. Was this a heart attack?I wondered, utterly bewildered. So close. I’d been so close. Tears of frustration slid down my cheeks, but I didn’t have the strength to sob or scream.

Sehkeril landed near, but Kehlirik warned him off with a roar and a snarl. Kehlirik made a soft ticking sound as he gathered me gently into his arms, my body as limp as if I was unconscious. He shifted so that my head rested against his chest instead of lolling back. The mark on my arm burned with a cold pain, as if ice had been held against it for far too long.

The mark. A shiver went through me. Was that it? Maybe I’d tripped a ward or something. Or maybe Rhyzkahl had somehow zapped me to keep me from leaving. This last thought left me as cold as my mark, yet I had a sickening certainty it was true.

“ Yaghir tahn, Kara Gillian,” he murmured. “Forgive me.”

“Wh-what happened?” I slurred, barely able to get the words out and not even sure if he could understand me. I felt like complete shit, utterly weak both inside and out.

Kehlirik stood and began to carry me toward the palace. A kehzaflew close, curious, but Kehlirik snarled, sending the other demon streaking away. “You were stopped from going to the grove,” he told me.

The cold within me seemed to increase. “Mark,” I mumbled. Kehlirik merely snorted, which was answer enough for me. Nausea curdled my gut, but I wasn’t sure I had even the strength to barf. I wasn’t crying anymore—much. I couldn’t seem to get a handle on the fear that wanted to take up permanent residence in my chest. What the fuck do I do now?

He carried me to my rooms and set me gently on the bed, crooning low in his throat as he pulled a blanket over me. Again he murmured yaghir tahn, but I was too demoralized and upset to respond. He crouched beside the bed, massive head lowered toward me, and bestial face contorted with concern. “Rest, Kara Gillian,” he said, voice soft and deep.

“I don’t want to be here,” I whispered, tears still leaking.

He ticked softly as he settled his wings. “There is nowhere for you to go in the moment, so best to abide in peace, though your heart calls you elsewhere.”

I didn’t want to see his concern, didn’t want to hear his comfort. He’d brought me back here to this place where I didn’t want to be. Yeah, I’d rest. I didn’t really have a choice at the moment, did I? Right now I felt as if I’d had the flu for months, and even blinking required tremendous effort. The only parts of me that actually hurt were the mark and the scrapes on my face, but the rest of me still felt like total shit.

Kehlirik gave a low hiss then rose and exited. I drew a small amount of comfort from the fact that the reyza seemed to be pissed at Rhyzkahl as well.

A few heartbeats later, I felt Rhyzkahl come in. He moved toward the bed. “Dear one,” he said, concern on his face.

I wanted to turn away from him, but I didn’t have the strength, which pissed me off as much as it scared me. Instead I gave him a Fuck youglare with an added touch of You’re a worthless bastard, then closed my eyes.

The bed shifted as he sat on the edge. A heartbeat later I felt his hand on the scrapes on my cheek. “With Kehlirik distracted, I had no other option but to use the mark to stop you from leaving,” he said as a low warmth eased the sting in my face. “There should have been no pain in the mark when I did so. The damage done by Mzatal twisted the connection.”

I stayed silent, hurt and pissed.

“I know Kadir frightened you, and I understand your desire to flee,” he continued. “I could not allow it as it would take you out of my direct protection.” He set his other hand on my forehead, and gradually the horrible-flu sensation faded along with the worst of the crippling weakness.

Kadir. Now the creepshow had a name. Taking a ragged breath, I opened my eyes and looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have even encountered him if you’d allowed me to visit the grove,” I said, still deeply upset and hurt. “I needed that, and you denied it.”

Regret shadowed across his face. “I cannot risk you,” he said. “There are many lords arriving, and I cannot adequately protect you in the grove.” His eyes met mine. “Even were this not the time of the conclave, Mzatal could arrive at any moment, and he would not leave you sitting peacefully in the grove.”

“I can feel before anyone comes through,” I muttered, turning my head away. “I needed it.”

Rhyzkahl laid a hand over the mark, easing the cold burn and giving me a bit more of my strength back. “And if, in your musings, you again decide you need to depart?” he asked. “What then? I would have no means to recover or rescue you then, and you would be fully at the mercy of others.” He paused. “And some know nothing of mercy.” He touched my cheek. “Dear one, I sought only to protect you from dangers of which you were unaware.”

I had zero doubt he referred to Kadir, and I shivered at the memory. Hisprisoner? I’d take Mzatal’s tender care over Lord Creepshow’s. “Would it be too fucking hard for you to tell me shit like this?” I turned my head back toward him. “If you’re so damn protective, then why did you let that…that freakpaw all over me?”

“He was under guest oath then,” Rhyzkahl replied with utter calm. “He is under full oath to me now, and such will not happen again while you’re here. As long as you are here.”

Scowling, I rolled away from him and curled on my side. “I want to go home.”

“Yes, I know you do,” he said. “And I seek the means. I do not yet have them.”

I was still pretty damn tired, but at least I didn’t feel like death anymore. Yet I also didn’t know if I could believe him. Most confusing was the fact that what he said made sense. Maybe it was simply the fact that I didn’t like—and certainly wasn’t accustomed to—other people making decisions for me without even the courtesy of explanation or discussion.

“I want to be alone,” I said. “Please…I need you to go away.”

“No.” He pulled the covers from me, and then I felt him shift onto the bed. Before I could wonder what the hell he was doing, he lifted me and pulled me into his lap as he sat against the headboard to cradle me close.

I blinked, utterly shocked at the display of tenderness. There’d been times when the demonic lord had shown a measure of what could be construed as affection, but there’d never been anything as overt as this.

And it was exactly what I needed, though I hadn’t realized it. Releasing a shuddering breath, I found myself relaxing against him. “Why are you doing this?” I sighed.

He bent his head close to mine, nuzzling gently. “It was not my desire to…go away.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder, eyes closing. “You always get what you want?” I murmured.

I heard his whispered reply as I drifted off to sleep.

“No.”

Chapter 13

I thought it was early evening when I woke. Except that the sun slanted through the windows that faced east, and my bladder was about to damn well burst. No, not evening, I realized with a fair amount of dismay. This was the morning of the next day. Holy crap. Even with Rhyzkahl easing a considerable amount of the drain that occurred when he used the mark to stop me, I’d still slept close to a full day. I didn’t even want to think about how long I’d be down if he hadn’t come and relieved that crushing fatigue.

I rolled over to get out of bed and froze at the sight of a flower on the other pillow—large, fragrant, and as vividly violet as a syraza’s eyes. I had zero doubt it was from Rhyzkahl, but…wow. He’d cuddled me, and now this. Actual displays of affection. I smiled. It was weird, but also pretty darn cool.

Musing on the entire scenario, I made my way to the bathroom to take care of the most urgent matter, then came back out and nibbled a couple of grapey-blueberry things from the big bowl of fruit on the table to quell the insistent pangs. Other than being hungry, I pretty much felt back to normal, so apparently sleeping for a godawful long time was all I needed. Not that it made any of this easier to figure out.

I stuck the flower in a glass of water and set it on the nightstand. It had an exotic scent that reminded me of the grove. Perhaps that was why he’d left it for me, since I couldn’t actually go there.

Sighing, I plopped onto the couch in the main room to brood. Being barred from the grove was definitely upsetting, but it didn’t take a lot of navel-gazing to figure out that it wasn’t the actual ban that bugged me the most. I mean, sure, that part sucked, but I also understood whyhe’d done the arcane version of tackling me before I walked out into traffic. If I left his realm, then any lord would be free to snatch me up and do whatever they wanted with me.

It was the means that bothered me the most. Great, I had a magic tattoo that could be used to drop me in my tracks. That was fucking wonderful. Plus, the big-strong-man-takes-care-of-helpless-woman vibe wasn’t exactly my cup of tea. Why the hell couldn’t he have simply told me whyhe didn’t want me to go to the grove instead of telling my guardian to not let me near it? Yeah, I could be stubborn, but I usually tried hard to listen to reason. And after my oh-so-pleasant time with Mzatal, I had no desire to go back to being some lord’s prisoner.

Two faas burst into the room without knocking, startling me out of my thoughts. They each bore trays of food though, so I decided to forgive them. More hyper than usual, they burbled about visitors and preparations, then slid the food onto the table and were back out the door before I could even thank them.

I grinned and settled down to eat. There were some things I liked about being in the demon realm, and I could definitely get used to nonstop room service. And not having to clean up or do laundry. Yeah, that pretty well rocked.

A tingle at the back of my neck told me that the grove was activated, which meant someone was arriving. More lords. Curious, I quickly yanked on pants and a sweater, grabbed my mug of chak and stepped onto the balcony. This was how I preferred to deal with any other demonic lords, at least for now: three stories up and far out of reach.

A reyza, a kehza, and a pair of faas emerged from the tree tunnel, followed by a dark-skinned lord, bald, with a goatee and no mustache. Gold glinted from his earlobes, and a chain of red-blood gems the size of my thumbnail hung around his neck. Flowing robes of gold and blue swirled about his feet as he walked up the path toward the palace. The grove resonated with calm spiced with a hint of…adventure?

I continued to watch with naked interest until the lord passed out of sight through the main entry below and to the right of my balcony.

Tucking my bare feet underneath me, I sat on the chaise. I’d barely made myself comfortable when I heard the door. A heartbeat later I felt Rhyzkahl’s presence. Good. One way or another I was going to get some answers and get my doubts sorted out.

Rhyzkahl’s gaze went to me as he stepped out onto the balcony. “You slept deeply.”

The look I gave him was uncertain. “Well, you kinda sucked the life out of me.”

“I did,” he said. “A last resort.” He sat beside me on the couch, not quite touching me. His eyes searched my face, assessing. “You are much recovered, though still disturbed.”

My mouth twisted. “Yesterday was disturbing on a number of levels.” I said. “I didn’t know you could do that with the mark. That’s pretty frightening.”

Rhyzkahl reached out and laid his palm over the mark. “There is a deep connection with the mark, even damaged as it is by Mzatal’s interference.”

I gave him a wary look. “Could you kill me with it?”

“No,” he replied without hesitation. “The mark is not woven for such.”

That was certainly a relief, but I wasn’t quite ready to fully relax. “Are there any other featuresI don’t yet know about that might still bite me in the ass?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“No.” He traced his fingers along the mark, sending a light shiver through me, though it wasn’t completely unpleasant. “I anchored the disrupted strand upon your arrival, but it must be removed and reworked to repair the damage.”

Still uneasy, I pulled away from him, stood, and moved to the railing. The grove’s trees moved in hypnotic undulations in the low wind. My tension slipped away as I gently touched the grove. I couldn’t go out to it, but it was still there for me. The deep calm stole through me like the warmth from a fire, and I exhaled a soft sigh of comfort.

He moved up behind me, put his hands on my shoulders.

“I want to go home,” I told him. I knew I sounded like a broken record, but, well, too bad.

“This I know,” he said, giving my shoulders a light squeeze before gently turning me to face him. “It is of your disposition I came to speak.” He smiled down at me. “A solution has arisen.”

I held back the burst of hope, still cautious. “What sort of solution?”

“It is fortuitous that this is the time of the conclave,” he said, taking my hands in his. “There are debts to be paid and agreements to fulfill. With the cooperation of another lord, I can and will prepare a ritual to send you home. I have made arrangements, and it will take place two days hence.”

“And I’ll go home?” I asked. “That’s it? You’ll send me home?”

He squeezed my hands. “Yes, I will send you home,” he assured me. “You were not brought here by my will. Had it been my desire to do so, I could have taken you at any time.”

“You mean, when I summoned you, if you’d wanted to take me back you could have?”

“Yes,” he said. “You, dear one, summoned a demonic lord.”

“Well, duh,” I said. “You were willing.” But I realized it made sense that he could bring me back at any time. After all, he’d brought me back with him when I’d been bleeding out and dying. I exhaled in relief. “Home. Wow. Thank you. I miss home so much.” I chuckled softly. “And coffee. I reallymiss coffee.” Then my smile slipped, and I narrowed my eyes at him. “What did that creepy lord mean about payment?”

A flash of what might have been annoyance lit his eyes for an instant before it was gone. “You experienced Kadir,” he said. “You felt him. He chooses words to elicit fear and unease. He cares nothing for the truth.”

I peered at him. “So all that stuff about you giving me to him in payment was bullshit?” I asked. “And what would it be payment for, anyway?”

Rhyzkahl shook his head. “The qaztahl have had millennia to forge agreements great and small,” he said. “Favors and payments are always owed, but you are notslated as payment to Kadir.” He scowled as if the mere thought was repulsive. “You have my oath on this.”

“Good.” I allowed myself to relax a bit. “He’s a bad monkey, that one.”

“What is the meaning of ‘bad monkey’?” he asked with a frown.

I rubbed my arms, chilled at the mere thought of Kadir. “Someone who’s not right. Someone who doesn’t think and feel the way most other folks do.” I shook my head. “I’ve seen it before in sociopaths, but he takes it to a whole other level.”

“Yes. He is Kadir,” Rhyzkahl said, and I realized that he’d known Kadir for thousands of years. This was nothing new to him. Kadir was simply…Kadir; a part of the natural order of things as far as he was concerned. The other lords no doubt handled him with the same sort of care one did with any potentially dangerous creature. They knew what to do and what not to do with him.

Rhyzkahl shifted to face me more fully. “Kadir is one of the reasons I had for halting your departure through the grove,” he told me, face serious and intent. “He would have very literally hunted you,” he continued, “and had he found you before I did, he would have taken you to his realm without regard for consequences from me.”

A sliver of cold terror slid through me at the mere thought. I shuddered, mind shying away from even wondering what would happen to me in such a scenario. “You mentioned an oath last night,” I said. “Has he given it to you? Will he harass me again?” I sure as hell didn’t want to be stuck inside in order to avoid another encounter with the creepy-as-fuck Kadir.

“Neither he nor Sehkeril will approach or harass you while you are here,” he assured me. “I have his oath. He is not one you need fear.”

“Okay, then what about the collar?” I asked with a challenging lift of my chin. “If you have his oath then why am I still wearing this fucking thing?”

“Because all those who will be within these walls for the next few days are ruthless and would seek to delve into your being,” he replied without hesitation. “The collar offers protection from that.”

Anger and frustration flared as my patience with all the shit about my protection evaporated. “Collars are for slaves and pets. So, which am I?” I dropped to my knees before him. “Hell, might as well do this right. Okay, master, what’s your fucking command?”

Something dark and dangerous flickered over his face. He reached down with both hands to seize me by the upper arms and haul me to my feet, then held me in place, his face inches from mine.

“You are not to kneel to me,” he said with an intensity that seared through me and set my heart pounding. “Not as a requirement, nor in jest. You are not now, nor have you ever been my slave.” His grip tightened, though not quite to the point of pain. “ Yousaw the need to bind me by oath to not bring you harm in your world, nor to challenge the laws of your land, nor bring destruction. Consider well that you are in myworld now and the wearing of this collar for a short time goes far in protecting not only you but also this realm—and me—from the machinations of unscrupulous qaztahl. I will not remove it prematurely to prove a point.” He released his grip and took a step back from me, but his eyes never left mine.

I swallowed hard. “All right,” I said reluctantly. “But swear to me that as soon as they’re gone, the collar’s gone. Please? I hate this thing.”

Rhyzkahl stroked the back of his fingers over my cheek. “I swear that, as soon as the conclave is over and the lords have departed, I will remove the collar.”

I felt the grove activate again, with yet another, a different, “feel”—confirming my suspicion that each lord had his own signature resonance.

A few heartbeats later Rhyzkahl looked up and lifted his chin toward the grove. “Amkir arrives.”

I turned to see three reyza exit the tree tunnel and leap into the air, followed by a pair of faas who immediately darted toward the palace. After another few seconds, a syraza stepped out and took flight, and finally a lord with a faintly olive complexion and short dark hair emerged. His resonance with the grove wasn’t calm like the previous lord’s or peaceful like Elofir’s. This Amkir had a harsh feel that seemed be confirmed by his unsmiling expression and narrowed eyes. He wore a deep green, long-sleeved robe, belted at the waist. The three-quarter sleeves were decorated with bands of gold, and the whole outfit reminded me vaguely of a Russian fresco I’d studied back in college as part of my mostly useless Art History degree.

“Do you expect Mzatal to come?” I asked Rhyzkahl after Amkir disappeared from view.

Rhyzkahl gave a low snort of derision. “I doubt Mzatal has the tebakh—” Which I somehow knew meant “balls” or something damn close to it. “—to come to my domain now.”

I shivered, remembering Mzatal’s face and what he’d said before he’d retreated down the tree tunnel: I will retrieve you.I rubbed my arms in an attempt to dispel the memory of his scary-intensity.

Rhyzkahl moved to a place beside me on the rail, watching as Amkir’s reyza rose to meet Kehlirik in either greeting or challenge. I couldn’t tell the difference.

“Tell me of your time with Mzatal,” he said. His eyes were still on Amkir’s approach, but I had no doubt his attention was fully on me.

The last thing I wanted to do was go through all of that shit, but at the same time I completely understood Rhyzkahl’s desire to know what happened. It was a post-incident debriefing, I figured. Plus, maybe something I’d seen or experienced could give Rhyzkahl an advantage over Mzatal somewhere down the line.

I gave a fairly emotionless recounting of the summoning and the damn purification ceremony. Told him about Idris and his skill, and my exploration of Szerain’s palace. I watched him for any reaction when I told him about my connection to Elinor, but his expression remained one of polite interest.

“Did you know about that whole Elinor thing?” I asked.

“Yes, you carry something of her,” he replied with complete calm. “It is part of the reason you required extra protection in the form of a syraza guardian.”

I straightened, frowning. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? I mean, she damn near destroyed this world.” I felt the grove activate again, but I resisted the urge to look toward it.

“I did not choose to distress you with unnecessary information,” he stated. “It seemed but a mild whisper of memory to you. More awareness, more knowledge on your part, increased the risk of other qaztahl discovering you and seeking you, as occurred with Mzatal.” His gaze shifted to the grove as another lord exited. “Vahl,” he said with a slight frown.

Vahl’s demonic contingent consisted of a reyza, two faas, one kehza, and a graa—a scuttling, crab-spiderish-looking demon that could fly with lightning speed. It had only been a little over a week ago that I’d been attacked by a graa. I knew there was little chance it was the same one, but I couldn’t help eyeing it somewhat dubiously as it flew to the top of a squat broad pillar near the grove, already occupied by over a dozen reyza, kehza, and zhurn.

The lord was another matter. Tall, dark-skinned, and broad-shouldered, he wore a close-fitting long-sleeved grey shirt and dark jeans that showed off a build that was muscular in all the right places. His hair was closely shorn, and he sported a perfectly trimmed mustache and beard. His aura was welcoming and dangerous at the same time, and I watched him with avid interest as he approached.

Dark eyes lifted to mine as he strode down the path, and a slight smile touched his mouth. A moment later, the demons on the pillar erupted in an uproar of bellows, snorts, trumpets, and squawks that carried clearly in the crisp air and gave the strong impression of laughter. They engaged in groups of two and three with mega-rock-paper-scissors and other apparent games, lending a party-like atmosphere to the assembly. “They sure like their games,” I said.