Touch of the Demon

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 scary the 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 tsk sound. “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 leap at 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 speak of 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.