Текст книги "Touch of the Demon"

Автор книги: Diana Rowland

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 31 страниц)

Chapter 16

In addition to the library, we ended up christening two more rooms—the tree house of the arboretum and a storage room full of furniture—finally ending up back in my rooms where I eventually fell asleep curled up in his arms, exhausted and sated.

I didn’t expect Rhyzkahl to still be there in the morning, and, of course, he wasn’t. At first I thought I’d slept a lot later than I’d intended because of the amount of light in the room. It wasn’t until I got up and actually looked out the window that I realized why it was so bright.

I let out a squeal. “It snowed!” Not only had it snowed, it stillsnowed, flakes drifting down, adding to the thick layer already on the ground and coating rocks and trees and buildings alike. All but the grove, which shimmered green and purple, untouched by the white blanket.

I tore through the available clothing and found a variety of Earth-type cold-weather garb. Boots, hat, gloves, and scarf went over a ridiculous number of layers. I looked like a total dork, but I didn’t care.

I hurried down the stairs and to the broad doors that led to the large back lawn. Kehlirik was crouched inside the doors with a book in his hand, and I smiled in relief at seeing him again. My smile spread to a grin when I saw that he was reading A Game of Thrones.Oh, I was sogetting him hooked on television as soon as I got back home.

“It snowed!” I announced, then dashed outside with an unabashed whoop of delight.

Kehlirik set the book down and followed me out as I tromped through what was easily eight inches of snow. He peered at me curiously as I launched into my first-ever attempt to make a snowman.

“Yes, it has snowed,” he said. “This brings strong reaction in you?”

“We don’t get snow where I live,” I told him as I made a sloppy attempt to roll snow into a large ball for the base of my snowman. “I mean, not more than a scuzzy inch or two.”

The demon snorted, watching me with open curiosity. “There are other demons who will clear the snow for you.”

“I don’t want them to clear it for me,” I said, slightly breathless. “I want to make snowmen and snow angels and all the stuff I’ve heard you can do in snow.” I want to have fun, I added silently as I rolled up a second, smaller ball and placed it atop the first. I want to forget I’m trapped here and forget how much I miss Jill and Ryan and Tessa and Zack.

Kehlirik made a huffing sound and poked a claw at my partial snowman. I gave him a sidelong glance as I rolled up the third ball and stuck it on top of the others. “Y’all have fun and play sometimes, right?” I knew the demons seemed to have any number of games, but I had no idea how spontaneous they were, if at all.

“Yes, we play games.”

I scanned the area for sticks or rocks or anything to decorate the snowman, but whoever had the job of cleaning up the lawn was apparently pretty damn meticulous. Giving up on the snow sculpture for now, I crouched and packed together a snowball.

“Do y’all ever do snowball fights?” I asked, eyeing him with a sly grin.

He spread his wings and dropped into a menacing crouch, low growl throbbing in his throat. I laughed and let fly with the snowball at him, but he ducked it with ease. In the next instant he took flight, letting out a trumpeting bellow.

“Hey, no fair!” I shouted, laughing as I hurriedly made more snowballs and threw them at the airborne reyza.

I yelped as a snowball smacked me in the back of the head. I whirled to see a faas ducking behind a pillar.

Apparently Kehlirik’s bellow had been a “game on!” signal to the rest of the demons. What followed next was the most insanely chaotic and glorious snowball fight in existence. Within less than a minute, the area filled with dozens of demons of damn near every variety. Chinese-dragon-faced kehza took to the air with reyza and zhurn in dogfights to rival anything out of World War I. On the ground, a cluster of luhrek—demons resembling a cross between a dog and a goat, with the hindquarters of a lion—whipped together a fort constructed of snow and arcane scaffolding, and proceeded to lob volleys at the airborne contingent. Graa darted with lightning speed between air and ground, weaving shields of potency that formed a sting-delivering obstacle course for all players, while young savik methodically dismantled and reformed said shields and slung snowballs at the faas who darted from pillar to pillar.

For my part, I quickly abandoned any attempt at strategy or skill and simply chucked snowballs at any available target.

Another snowball smacked into my head. I spun, expecting to see the devious faas, but to my shock it was a human who ducked behind a pillar.

I stared at the dark-haired man. Tall, a bit stocky, face maddeningly familiar. And then it registered. “Holy shit. Michael?” Michael Moran was the younger brother of Lida Moran, a goth-metal singer who’d ruthlessly used Michael’s abilities to create golems—actual creatures of dirt and clay—to get rid of her business rivals. Michael had suffered a head injury when he was young, which had made it far easier for Lida and her boyfriend to cruelly manipulate and use him. After the case had finally been closed—after the deaths of Lida and her boyfriend—Eilahn had suggested I send Michael to the demon realm. I’d agreed. I knew that if Michael stayed on Earth, he’d end up in an institution or even possibly jail for the rest of his life. I figured, if Eilahn said he’d have a chance at a better life, I had to go along with it. I trusted her.

He peered out from behind the pillar, smiling shyly. “Hi, Kara.”

I let out a laugh and tromped through the snow to him. “How are you? You look great!” He did, too. His face looked slimmer and far less slack, and his eyes practically sparkled with life.

“You’re through playing?” he asked, stepping warily out from behind the pillar in case I was still packing. “The faas are great with snowballs,” he added, with another wary look around for any lurking demons. My delight in seeing him grew. It was blindingly obvious that he was more stable and coherent than before.

“Yeah, I’m done,” I said, grinning, though I too scanned for faas. “And yeah, those little suckers know how to sling a snowball. They take their games pretty seriously!”

A broad smile lit his face. “And they always travel in pairs! Makes it hard to sneak up on them.” His face went abruptly serious, and he looked down and away.

“Michael? What’s wrong?”

He wiped at his face with the back of a gloved hand. “I’m really really sorry about all that stuff I did.”

“Ah, jeez, Michael, I know you are.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “I never blamed you. It’s why I had you sent here, so you could have a real chance at a life.”

He took a deep breath and let it out quickly. “It’s really okay?” he asked, worry darkening his expression as he finally met my gaze. “I mean…I’ve been thinking about it and…” He trailed off, swallowing hard.

“It’s okay,” I reassured him firmly, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “You weren’t the bad guy. You were used.” I peered at him. “Are you doing okay here? I mean, you’re being treated all right?”

He broke into a bright smile again. “Yep, it’s the best. They even fixed my head up a bit.”

“I can tell,” I said, deeply pleased for him. “It’s awesome. So, which lord are you with?”

“Seretis and Rayst. I even have my own piano!” He suddenly grimaced and bit his lower lip. “Uh, oh.”

“What is it?”

“Lord Amkir and Seretis,” he told me. “I hope he doesn’t get himself blasted. Pkkeeeww!”he added, making a sound like an exploding potency ball.

What the hell? “Wait, who might get blasted?”

“Seretis,” he said as if it was soobvious. His brow furrowed, and he seemed to be listening to something far away. “Rayst is in with Lord Rhyzkahl in the main hall, so no help there. Lord Vahl is in the far tower library. Lord Kadir is…” He grimaced, shook his head. “Elofir is out by the ruins.” He paused. “I mean, it’s most likely Seretis’s fault. He probably made Lord Amkir mad. He’s always messing with him. I just wish he’d do it when Rayst is around.” For an instant he sounded like a parent expressing the wish that his child would take his muddy shoes off outside.

I took a few seconds to process this. “Okay, so, you know where all the lords are all the time?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, then we both flinched as the sound of some sort of arcane discharge came from within the palace—sounding almost exactly like the pkkeeewwsound Michael had made.

“Oh, shit,” I breathed.

“It’s okay,” Michael quickly reassured me, head cocked. “I think Seretis stopped it okay.” He rolled his eyes. “He won’t stop teasing Amkir though.”

“Teasing him about what?” I asked, deeply interested in any teasing of Lord Asshole.

“Seretis was teasing him about backing down from Lord Rhyzkahl yesterday.”

I tried not to grin too obviously. “I think I’d like Seretis.”

“He laughs a lot,” Michael said. “Says lots of funny stuff.” He winced as the sound of another arcane discharge reached us. “That one stung.”

“Michael,” I said, “can you see where Mzatal is?”

He nodded. “He’s at his palace.” His eyes unfocused. “Harder to tell when they’re far away. His palace…in a dark room. He’s drawing all sorts of sigils, I think.”

“Is he talking to anyone?”

“Don’t think so. Just scowling and drawing.” He shrugged. “Hard to see.”

I will retrieve you, Mzatal had said. A shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with the snow and cold. Was he working on that even now?

I dragged my thoughts away from that unsettling subject. “Do any of the lords know you can…hear them wherever they are?”

A frown puckered his brow. “I can’t really hear unless they’re pretty close, and then only sometimes,” he told me. “Sometimes I can see, and sometimes I just know where they are.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Seretis knows, and he said not to tell any of the other lords.”

“He’s right. Don’t tell any lord.” I grimaced. “And also be careful which demons you tell.” I gave him a worried look. “Michael, this is a reallyuseful gift that could be used for the wrong reasons. I don’t want to see you taken advantage of again.”

Michael’s face grew serious. “Okay, I won’t. I don’t want it to be like before and hurt anyone.” He drew in a breath. “Seretis said they can’t read it from me since my brain’s messed up.” A smile lit his face. “Guess that’s one good thing about having a scrambled head.”

“That’s a damn good thing,” I said fervently as I gave him a hug. “I’m so glad you’re doing well.”

“Thanks, Kara,” he said, returning the hug. He lifted his head. “I better go. Seretis is calling me.” He grinned. “I think he reflected one back at Amkir and stung him good!”

“That’s what I like to hear,” I said with a laugh. “Take care, Michael.”

“Bye, Kara!” He turned and took off at a jog toward the nearest entrance. I watched him go, relieved and pleased that this had worked out so well for him.

A movement in an upstairs window caught my attention as I turned away. I had a feeling it was one of the lords—maybe Jesral? I didn’t think it was Rhyzkahl. I tried to picture Rhyzkahl enjoying a snowball fight, but somehow I couldn’t see that ever happening. But I can see Ryan doing it, I thought with a smile. Ryan would be right in there, slinging snowballs and shouting orders and mock threats.

But would Szerain? My smile faded.

I retreated to a boulder and watched the demons romp in the snow, but it didn’t take long for the heat of exertion to wear off and the chill to creep in. Yet I wasn’t ready to go back inside, to the place where I had to avoid lords and make myself scarce.

The stone path was already clear of snow, which surprised me until I saw two savik moving along the path, igniting sigils that flared to melt the snow away and keep the paths from refreezing. More snow began to fall, but in a light and powdery dusting that seemed to quiet everything to a respectful hush. I started to walk without any clear destination in mind. I wanted to explore and to stay away from the palace for a while. Glancing up, I saw Kehlirik perched on a buttress. I waved to him and he spread his wings in reply. Pyrenth wheeled overhead in complicated aerial maneuvers as if dodging the scattered snowflakes, but I still had an unerring sense that he watched me as well. I shook my head and laughed softly as I continued to wander the paths. I certainly had no fear that I wasn’t well guarded.

Many of the paths ended in little nooks or grottos, each with such a different feel that I suspected they all had unique creators: a small circular pool so clear and deep that it made me dizzy looking down into it; a rock garden of huge hazy crystals which, when touched, resonated with pure tones that went right through me and made me feel cleaner; a garden I visited for no more than a few seconds because the stench from the giant flower-thing at its center was like the worst decomposed corpse I’d ever encountered. Maybe it appealed to demons, but not me.

After exploring a half dozen or so, I came to one that was clearly different from the others. I gained access through a small hedge maze, its center kept clear of snow by softly pulsing wards. A tingle similar to what I felt in Szerain’s shrine raised goose bumps head to toe. There was little doubt it was carefully and meticulously maintained; the bushes didn’t have even a single leaf out of place, and there wasn’t a hint of dirt or debris on the precisely fitted flagstones. In the center stood a waist-high pedestal of black stone with capillaries of gold and silver running through it—an obelisk about a foot across at the base that tapered up to about half that. From the top sprang a flower so lifelike that only the fact that it was the same color as the rest of the stone told me that it wasn’t real.

Rhyzkahl holds the flower out to me. “Your favorite, is it not?” I am overcome with joy. He remembered! I take it from his hand. My fingers brush his, and a thrill leaps through me. His eyes are so intent upon me. Will he kiss me? Yes, oh…yes, he kisses me, and I am undone. So much more than the kisses of before. I do not want it to ever end, and this time it does not! He gently bears me down to the blanket, brushes my hair from my face then pulls the laces of my dress. My heart leaps. Yes, I am ready! Oh, his touch is all that I dreamed and so much more. I am overcome as he shows me what pleasure awaits. There is only the briefest pain and even that he eases…

I lie spent and gasping in his arms as he traces patterns upon my bare flesh. He smiles down at me, and I want to weep again. I am a silly girl—no, not a girl anymore. I am truly a woman now.

I yanked myself out of the memory, for the first time feeling almost like a voyeur. Yet even so, curiosity tugged at me—not about Rhyzkahl popping Elinor’s cherry but about Giovanni. Was he in the picture yet? Already out of it? What the hell was the deal with him anyway?

And why can’t these damn shadow-memories have time and date stamps on them?I thought sourly. That would certainly make figuring all this shit out a lot easier.

Questions crowded against each other in my head as I regarded the stone flower—the same kind as the one he’d given me. There was no doubt at all that this was a shrine to Elinor. Yet he keeps her portrait covered.Maybe this one was all right because it was so far away from the palace? Or maybe because there was no likeness of her here?

I stroked a finger over the stone petals. Szerain carved this. It had his feelabout it, as if at any moment it could stir in the breeze, turn its face to the winter sun. A pang of longing for Ryan struck me, accompanied by a wave of confusion. Here I was Rhyzkahl’s eager bedmate, yet I clearly had strong feelings for Ryan. What the hell was wrong with me?

I needed Jill, needed her keen insight and no-nonsense attitude. I wanted desperately to tell her that, before I was summoned, Ryan told me he loved me. I badly wanted her take on it. I knew she’d frown on my feeling any sort of guilt about casual, consensual sex, but it was hard not to feel a certain amount of angst and doubt given the current situation—in all its many and gloriously fucked-up layers.

The most fucked-up of which was the possibility that Ryan wasn’t… real.

Was I supposed to remain loyal to a personality that might be completely fabricated? My heart clenched at the thought that the Ryan I knew and had come to care for—and yes, even love—could simply be turned off someday. Yet I had to accept that was likely the brutal reality, especially since Turek had told me Szerain’s exile couldn’t be permanent.

I dropped to sit on the dry stone and tried to imagine what Jill would likely say, ticking points off on her fingers: “You’re fucking Rhyzkahl because A, he’s a hot and sexy stud who gives you lots and lots of orgasms, and B, because you’re deliberately putting obstacles between you and Ryan to protect yourself in the event things with him don’t work out.”

Groaning, I dropped my head into my hands. Yep, that pretty much summed it up.

And then there was Rhyzkahl. He might not have loved Elinor, but he’d certainly cared for her. And while I had no illusions that he loved me, it was clear there was some sort of affection in play. I sighed. There was no easy answer to any of this.

Cold and confused, I made my way back to the palace.

Chapter 17

I stood at the broad window in the arboretum, arms clasped loosely around myself as I watched the demons in the yard below. They were already involved in some new game. Not that I had any clue what the rules were. Two faas hunkered on one side of the courtyard, and a zhurn and reyza stood still as statues on the other. At apparently random intervals one from each side would dash to the middle and go through a series of odd sparring type moves. But it wasn’t sparring. That would be ludicrous between a faas and a reyza. After a minute, they’d break apart and go back to their side. Then later, another pair would go out and do the same thing. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. I didn’t get it, but they sure looked like they were having a good time.

I should teach them football, I thought with amusement. Football with the use of the arcane, and with a variety of creatures, some of whom had the ability to fly. Yeah, that might require a few adjustments to the rules.

I let my gaze drift to the grove. I was banned from going to it, but now I knew that didn’t mean it was completely inaccessible. Gently, I pulled a trickle of power, allowed myself to revel in the comfort of it.

I startled as arms encircled me from behind, then relaxed as I recognized the warm power of Rhyzkahl’s presence.

“You seem pensive,” he murmured. I dropped my head back against him, sighed. He brought his right hand up to lay it against the side of my face. “And you are clouded.”

“No, I actually feel fine,” I said. “Totally clear.”

“Perhaps clear to you,” he said. “Not clear to me.”

I scowled. The hand on the side of my face wasn’t affection. It was him trying to read me, and for whatever reason, he wasn’t having much success. I pulled away and turned to face him. “Don’t read my damn mind then,” I said with a falsely sweet smile. “Problem solved.”

Rhyzkahl tilted his head, gave me a disarming yet suggestive smile. “There are times when you most assuredly enjoy it.”

Well, he had me there. There was a lot to be said for having a lover who knew exactly what revved your engines. “Okay…but those are the only times!” Then I sighed. “Rhyzkahl, this place is great, but I’m so ready to go home.”

“It is what I came to tell you,” he said. “With Jesral’s assistance, the foundation has been laid for the ritual.”

“Really?” I smiled broadly. “I’m going home?”

He slid his arms around me. “Tonight, yes. It is a difficult and complex ritual to open a portal without a summoner working the pattern,” he cautioned. “But I am confident that I will be able to guide you as needed.”

I pressed close to him. “I can follow orders when necessary.”

Smiling, he lifted his other hand to stroke my hair back from my face. “We shall soon see.” He kissed me, then straightened. “And now I must go make final preparations,” he said. The smile remained on his face, yet his eyes seemed deeply veiled. “I will send for you at sunset. Bathe and don what the faas lay out for you.”

Excitement and relief twined together within me. “I’ll be ready.”

He touched my cheek then turned and departed without another word.

I watched him go. Was it at all possible that he was going to miss me? Was that why he was being so strangely tender? I shook my head to dismiss the thought. Right now all I wanted to worry about was getting my ass back home.

I returned to my room, bathed, then stood frowning at the simple, pretty pullover dress laid out on the bed. I’d been thinking jeans, a zrila-shirt, and sneakers would be ideal for going home, but for all I knew, clothes might have significance in demon-side rituals. Whatever. All that mattered right now was getting home. After dressing and combing out my hair, I had nothing left to do but wait impatiently and watch the progress of the sun toward the horizon.

Shortly after the sun began to set a faas burst through the door, baring teeth. “Come! Come! Qaztahl waits!”

“Okay, okay!” I said with a smile. The faas hopped out, and I followed it down the corridor. It stopped at the open door to this wing’s smaller library and pointed inside.

“Here here heeeeere.”

“Rhyzkahl’s waiting for me here?” I asked, brow furrowed.

The faas peered at me as though I was a silly but very lovable human. “No! Jesral waiting!”

Doubt tightened my stomach. I took a settling breath and wished I was wearing more than the very simple dress with no bra, then entered the small library.

Indeed, Jesral was there, draped casually in a chair, sitting partially sideways with one leg over the other. There was nothing casual, though, behind his eyes or in his aura. Slim, with short brown hair, sharp features, and a keen gaze, he didn’t radiate scarythe way Mzatal did but felt more like a silent, stalking jungle cat—deadly, but able to hide it when he desired. He wore a grey turtleneck beneath a dark blue velvet suit that did absolutely nothing to decrease the subtle aura of danger. He turned his head to look at me as I entered, while the rest of his posture remained in total comfortable casualness.

“Ah, Kara Gillian,” he said, flashing me a smile. “I am Lord Jesral. I have heard so much about you. What a delight to finally have the chance to meet you properly.”

I inclined my head, wary. “Lord Jesral, I confess I don’t know much, if anything, about you.” I gave him a small and careful smile.

His eyes widened. “Rhyzkahl has not spoken of me?” He shook his head and made a single tsksound. “He has spoken of you at length. Though there was cause in that, and perhaps not so the other way.”

I folded my arms over my chest as I studied him. “And why have I been the subject of so much conversation?”

“Most recently, regarding the ritual,” he said, eyes on me, still smiling. “To which I will escort you, that you may return to Earth.”

“And why do you care whether I return to Earth?”

He laughed. “What matter would it have to me if you stay or go? I aid because Rhyzkahl asks it.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “And do you do everything he asks of you?”

“Clever, clever girl.” His face shifted from the smile to a far more penetrating look. “Would you believe any answer I gave you?”

I affected a casual shrug, though inside my pulse raced. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this light conversational banter carried higher stakes than I could ever imagine. “Lies and truth are all information of some sort, Lord Jesral.”

He dropped his crossed leg to the floor, gaze intense and flat out disturbing in a far different way than any of the others. A strange smile of cold satisfaction crept over his face, as though I’d managed to confirm some suspicion he’d been harboring.

“This is so very true,” he said, standing and flicking non-existent dust from his sleeves. “Though it is helpful to discern a lie from truth in order to glean the most refined information. I can offer one as easily as the other.”

I unfolded my arms. “I’m a cop. I’m used to lies. But how about you humor me and tell me the truth.” I lowered my head and kept the smile on my face. His too-friendly demeanor disturbed the hell out of me. “Why is it that you so eagerly leap to do Rhyzkahl’s bidding? Do you fear him? Love him? Owe him? Or are you merely sucking up in order to keep in his good favor?”

He adjusted his clothing with a few smooth, practiced moves, then gestured toward the door. “We have a mutually beneficial working relationship,” he said, “and he would just as readily leapat my bidding.”

I headed to the door and allowed myself to be escorted. I was more than ready to get the fuck away from the demon realm and all of these lords. “A working relationship?” I gave him an ingenuous smile. “And what sort of work do you and Rhyzkahl do?”

Jesral laughed in a way that wasn’t at all comforting. “If Rhyzkahl has chosen not to even speakof me to his marked summoner, there must be a reason. It is not for me to step between the two of you and spoil it.”

I pressed my lips together and continued on in silence, utterly sick of this place and the bullshit intrigue. Shadow memories flickered as we walked, but I did my best to keep a careful lid on them.

Jesral finally stopped before the double doors to the antechamber. He flicked a hand to open one of them by about a foot. “And so here you are, Kara Gillian. I will see you again soon, I am certain.” He took my hand before I could pull it away, lifted it to his mouth without bending, kissed the back, and released it.

I wanted badly to say something cutting and clever, but I couldn’t come up with a damn thing. No doubt I would in about five minutes. Instead I simply gave him a nod and a tight smile, then ducked through the door.