Kiss of a Demon King

shot of blood? 'This is a mere fraction of the army that will gather. In the next two nights, more will come. Many of them know this land from fighting the mighty demon king in ages past.'

Everyone knew the tales of Rydstrom riding out in his fearsome black helmet, beating the Horde back from Tornin. His battles were legendary. 'One would think you'd be able to persuade them to leave.'

'Would one?'

'Sabine!' Omort yelled from inside. He was glassy-eyed, but when he saw her at the doorway, he seemed to rouse. Then he spied Lanthe beside her. 'Be gone, Melanthe!' he ordered. 'Back to your tower.'

'One day . . .' Lanthe said telepathically, slinking off. 'Goodluck.'

As Sabine sauntered inside toward the throne, all eyes were on her. When she separated from Lothaire- lest others suspect them of a secret alliance-the vam­pire murmured, 'Noted, sorceress.'

Once she reached the dais, Omort was fiddling with

his poison ring. Sabine would give anything for the antidote to his morsus. Each poison was individual, and since Omort's was prepared by the Hag in the Basement, she was the only one who could cure Sabine.

But the Hag had entered into a covenant never to surrender the antidote to another. ...

'Cadeon the Kingmaker continues after the sword,' Omort said.

In as soothing a tone as she could manage, Sabine said, 'Yes, brother, but it could take him years to find the Vessel.'

'Cadeon already has her!'

Sabine's lips parted. 'Are you saying the Vessel is on her way to Groot?' With a male like him, that female would bear another ultimate evil. The world couldn't withstand another like Omort. 'Send fire demons to assassinate her,' Sabine said coolly.

'You think I haven't?' Omort yelled, spittle coating his bottom lip.

He disgusted her. Earlier, when Rydstrom had realized she was going to leave him, he'd inhaled deeply, visibly in pain. And then he'd gained control of himself. Who was more powerful, the quiet demon king she kept in chains or the mad sorcerer who could destroy the world but couldn't keep a single castle in order?

Omort snatched up a goblet, dashing it against the wall. 'Those demons continue to fail us.'

'We'll think of something,' Sabine said. 'I'll go after her myself if I need to. And I never fail you.'

'You are failing me right now! You've been in the demon's cell again and again!' He slammed his fist on the throne arm. 'We've been waiting days for some kind of progress-why can't you get him to do this?'

'Was there a time limit to my task?'

Hettiah said, 'We've heard word that you go and do nothing but talk.'

Once! 'Your pet's making sniveling noises again, Omort. Shut-her-up!'

'I think you're not committed to this cause!' Omort snapped. 'Perhaps I should withhold the morsus to spur you on.'

Sabine's eyes narrowed. The chamber appeared to rock. 'You keep threatening me with that, and you will not like the outcome.'

'You dare-'

Four fire demons traced in front of the dais, just to her side. The court fell silent in shock.

The demons were beaten, bloody, and handless. Pinned to the shirt collar of one was a folded note stamped with an N in a black wax seal.

Nïx. The Valkyrie had sent them back with their hands lopped off-rendering them powerless.

Omort stormed down the steps to them and ripped the parchment free, tearing it open. As he read, a vein bulged in his forehead. 'That bitch! She'll know my wrath and will learn to fear it!' he yelled, crumpling the letter and throwing it away. 'I go for her myself!' In an instant, Omort raised his hands and smote the four to ash.

Stepping around the charred remains, Sabine scooped up the note, smoothing the paper to read:

Dear puss,

Is this all you've got? Why don't you strap on your big girl panties and come face me yourself? Unless you fear that the Nixanatar will spank Omort's wittle bottom.

By the way, you've taken one of the most respected leaders in our army. We're going to want him back. Especially since Sabine cant break him.

Bringing it,

Nïx the Ever-Knowing, Soothsayer Without Equal,

General of the New Army of Vertas.

Sabine whistled out a surprised breath. The Valkyrie truly was crazed.

Then she frowned. Can't break him? Again, was there a time limit? Style points?

And what was this Army of Vertas? Sabine had heard rumors that Nïx was placing factions together- the Lykae, the Forbearers, the noble fey, the House of Witches, a mix of Demonarchies, and many more. Had they all struck an alliance?

Perhaps they were using this letter to lure Omort into a trap. Sabine knew the other side had mystickal prisons, entire islands that were inescapable. Could they capture the deathless one?

Sabine stared at the script, her thoughts racing.

'Bring me the rage demon!' Omort commanded. 'I'll send Rydstrom's arms back to the Valkyrie!'

'No!' Sabine cried, her heart in her throat. Omort would butcher him. Rydstrom would regenerate the limbs, but the pain .. . 'You will not-'

The sudden hit took her across the face, blood spray­ing out from her mouth over the marble.

Hettiah had attacked her? That cold, pure fury Sabine knew so well swept through her. Then came the bile, the nausea, that could only be allayed with violence. Self-preservation, survival.

A red haze covered her vision; Sabine spat more blood as Hettiah's friends surrounded her.

15

Rhydstrom was disgusted with himself. One blow job and he'd been ready to capitulate everything. Yes, it was the best one he'd ever received, but still...

He shook his head. It wasn't just what she'd done to him, but how. She'd been everything he'd ever dreamed of. And when the room had gone ablaze, letting him see the intensity of what she was feeling ... ?

What male wouldn't be tempted to do anything to have her?

So close . . . He'd almost broken down. If Rydstrom surrendered his will in this, he could impregnate her. And then, what if he couldn't escape before she killed him?

His child would be raised by her and by Omort, used as a pawn. They wouldn't understand a demon child's needs. As if they'd care. He would never subject a child of his to the hell on earth they promised.

She wanted a vow Rydstrom would not give.

For a rage demon king to marry, he would make a claim and a vow of self: 'I claim the honor of protecting and keeping you. You are mine-my consort to touch, to guard, to cherish. You will rule beside me and create our dynasty. Accept my claim, and it will be so, now and ever after.'

If his female accepted him, then they would be wed forever. But Rydstrom couldn't pledge his life to another under this kind of coercion. He would do it when he was ready.

And when she was worthy.

He heard footsteps, not hers. The attendants had already been here, leaving him free, clothed-

A guard of five vampires materialized in his cell. One was Lothaire, the Enemy of Old. He'd been a Horde general, but Rydstrom had never engaged his troops.

Rydstrom snarled, 'What do you want-'