Kiss of a Demon King

It sailed past Omort in the doorway. 'And you dare return without her.'

Sabine sensed quiet and felt her sister's absence, which meant she'd gone from this plane. Through the portal. She was likely safe.

But now I'm screwed. She had six days till her rescue would come. Could she last that long? Damn Omort for

his lies!

She had no idea where to go to hire a vampire to trace her back. She had no clue where to stay. She could weave illusions of money to get a hotel room, but the Vrekeners would just home in on her sorcery.

Why am I so despondent? I've been in much more dicey

situations.

Maybe because she might be dying soon.

No! She refused to believe that. She'd heard the morsus attacked in waves. She could withstand the first

episodes of pain. Hell, she might wean herself and tell Omort to go bugger himself.

Her eyes went wide. Yes, I'll beat this thing! The accounts of people dying from pain were about victims who'd never known agony like Sabine had. I've died dozens of times. This will be old hat.

She felt better about the morsus, almost looking for­ward to the challenge.

So why am I still despondent?

I miss the demon. She'd had a good thing and hadn't realized it soon enough. The odds were slim that she would find another male like him: a gorgeous king who would press her head down to kiss her nape, who was usually considerate and fair-except when he went demonic because she ran from him-and who was also her husband.

She wanted the demon. But he no longer wants me. And it's all my fault.

This hurts. Sabine felt her bottom lip trembling once more. Not again! Crying was something for weak women-the hand-wringers and the hopeless.

And still the tears came streaming down, the unfa­miliar feel of them shocking her.

40

 What have I done? Rydstrom cursed himself bitterly.

I actually let her go.

At the time, he hadn't felt like he'd had a choice He'd been appalled by his behavior. In that park in the storm, he'd come close to shoving himself inside her, and then again later in the bed.

Yet now that he'd calmed enough to think, he believed he might have detected some truth to her words when she'd told him she would return in days. She might in fact want more with him.

If she brought out the worst in him, then he would just have to work harder to become a better man for them. No male would work harder. And more, he was going to ask her what she thought he should do, putting everything out there for her: I'm not interested in a life that doesn't have you in it. You make me crazed. I would give anything for you to grow to care for me.

But he would demand that she meet him halfway.

And he would have to find her.

With that thought, he ran for her again. She might have crossed that portal. Yet he sensed she hadn't, still perceived her nearness....

He found her not even a block away from the house, sitting on a curb.

As he approached, he saw her wiping her face with her forearm.

Sabine was ... crying! 'What are you doing out here, cwena?' Over the last week, Rydstrom had been pleased when she'd worried about him and gratified when she'd felt the sting of jealousy. Was he a terrible man to hope she was crying about him?

She glared at him with her bottom lip quivering, allowing him to see her like this instead of using a mask. 'I d-don't have anywhere else to g-go.' Another swipe of her forearm over her eyes. 'Lanthe's gone, and I c-can't get to her for six days. And I'm in a strange t-town and land, and Vrekeners are everywhere.'

Sabine hadn't even mentioned what they'd just gone through-

'And you br-broke up with me!' she said, her tears falling faster. 'Is that supposed to make me happy?'

'Come inside, Sabine.'

'No! You t-told me not to.' She sniffled. 'You don't want me at your house.'

He swooped her up in his arms. 'Will you shut up?' With his free hand, he brushed her tears. 'I made it ten minutes before I came after you.'

She buried her face against his shoulder. 'I'm glad you did.'

He swallowed, never imagining this night would turn around like this. 'We have a lot of things we have to get sorted out. I'll put you in the shower, and then we'll talk about what we're going to do.'

'Talk o-over wine?'

'The sweetest I can find.'

'You still w-want me?'

He rested his forehead against hers. 'I always will.'

'Demon, I understand why you would think the worst about me tonight. I've given you no reason to grant me the benefit of the doubt. But I know now that you have to be able to trust me.'

'Sabine, that's not reasonable-'

'Wait. J-just hear me out. There's something I can do that will let you know when I'm being untruthful to you. Something the bad guys use to keep each other honest. I want to do this for you, demon.'

He had no idea what she was talking about, but he savored even the idea that she wanted to take a step for him-

'All I need is clay, picture hangers, an oven, and your blood.'

'How can I be sure these covenants are going to work?' Rydstrom asked over his shoulder as he nailed three pic-ture hangers to the wall.

'I made extras so we can test them,' she said absently, gazing at his uncovered back as she tied twine through the hole of the third covenant.

The muscles, the tattoo, his smooth skin . . . Gods, this male is too fine-

He abruptly turned, catching her ogling him. She shrugged as if she was helpless not to ogle. Because she was.

'Are you ready with those?' he asked, his voice a touch rough.

'Oh. Yes.' She had three covenants baked and ready to be hung. She carefully handed them to him.

He was clearly still dubious about this whole process, but he was going along with it as if hoping it would work.

When they'd returned to the house earlier, he'd trusted her to stay and shower while he located clay somewhere on the grounds. They'd met back in the kitchen, with Sabine dressed in another one of his undershirts. He'd showered downstairs and wore a clean pair of jeans-with no shirt.

His kitchen was ultra-modern, and she didn't exactly know her way around even a medieval one, but she'd managed to find a bowl to mix a small sampling of their blood with the clay. 'Your blood will bind you to the spell,' she'd explained as she made a small cut in his arm. 'My Sorceri blood acts as the catalyst, the battery that gives this power.'

Once she'd rolled the clay out flat in three baking dishes, Sabine had used an ice pick for a stylus. In the first tablet, she'd carefully inscribed, 'I will never lust after Rydstrom.' In the second, she'd written, 'I will never kiss Rydstrom.' The third read, 'I will never lie to Rydstrom.'

As he hung the tablets, she hopped up to sit on the granite counter top. 'Covenant time! Sacred even among