Demon’s King (High Demon #3)(2)
Author: Connie Suttle

Lendill rose and came around his desk while I read the information. One of Lendill’s ASD operatives had spotted an irregularity on Kareed. Kareed was definitely non-Alliance. In fact, it was hip-deep in what some were calling the Campiaan Alliance. Our Alliance, officially named the Reth Alliance thousands of turns ago, was now commonly referred to simply as the Alliance. Everybody knew what you were talking about. Now, Teeg’s machinations might cause that to change. A tiny curl of smoke came from my nostrils at the thought of Teeg—betraying, reptanoid kidnapping bastard that he was.

"I can’t tell you how sexy I find that," Lendill took the comp-vid from my hand and lifted me onto his desk. He wiggled his way between my legs and gave me a kiss. "I want you to go after Zellar, cheah-mul. Bring him back to me, alive or dead, deah-mul. I love you, breah-mul." He’d said it out of order, but the meaning would never change. He’d called me his heart, his soul, his breath. Those words were the Wyyldan declaration of love. I didn’t stop him when he carefully unbuttoned the top button on my blouse. Bending his head and brushing his dark hair against my lips, he kissed my collarbone. Another button opened, another kiss was laid. I hoped he didn’t have cameras inside his office. I didn’t hold him back this time. The desk was the perfect height for him and I wondered if he’d planned it that way. Tory and I had the linking. Aurelius had the vampire’s bite. I don’t know what Lendill had, but the moment our bodies were joined, there came a pleasure that suffused my entire being. Tory and I, with the linking, fed off each other’s desires until it was frenzied. Aurelius gave me a slow fire that built to a mind-bending climax. This—I couldn’t even put words to this. I only wanted Lendill to give me more of it. When he did, he was whispering my name against my lips—Reah, Reah, REAH!

We ended up on Lendill’s sofa—he wasn’t satisfied with just once. I was more than thankful that he had a private bath adjoining his office. The shower inside was small but serviceable. We both made use of it before dressing.

"Reah, we’re not allowed to marry until you’re officially out of the ASD—you know that." Lendill kissed my neck as I buttoned my blouse. "But I’ll ask the question a second time, breah-mul. Will you marry me?"

"If Tory and Aurelius agree." I turned in his arms and leaned my forehead against his chest.

"I’ll work on that." His voice rumbled in his chest. Suddenly, I huddled against him. Loving Lendill had taken Gavril out of my thoughts temporarily. Now they were back. Somehow, he knew. "We’ll find him, Reah. No effort will be spared." Lendill lifted my face for a kiss. "I love you. Don’t ever forget that. The moment your conscription is over, I’ll take you to meet my father. He’s wanted to meet you for a while, now."

"Your father is still alive?" I asked. Yes, that surprised me.

"Very much so. We don’t talk often, but we do talk. Now, go and make arrangements to travel to Kareed tomorrow. Do this for me, Reah. Do it for all of us. As long as Zellar lives, he will be a danger to every world across the universes."

I nodded against his chest and pulled away. "Reah, you are tirlan-dar’miri—beautiful beyond words," Lendill whispered

"What language is that?" I’d never heard that phrase before.

"It is the language of my father’s race. Go now, Reah, before I change my mind and pull you back. I have no desire to let you walk away from me."

I left him. Yes, I would have liked to stay. I would also like my heart to stop thumping painfully in my chest whenever I thought of Chash. My Chash. I wanted to weep as I skipped the rest of the way to the suite I shared with Tory. Most of my clothing was there. I pulled two eight-days’ worth from my closet, wiping tears away as I tossed it into a standard-issue black bag.

All ASD agents had at least two sturdy, black bags for travel. They looked much the same as many other bags normal Alliance citizens used, except they had compartments built in for pistols, knives, throwing stars, even rifles. Any other kind of weapon could also be accommodated, as long as its length wasn’t greater than that of the bag itself. My knife and pistol went into the bag—I seldom carried anything else.

My knife saw more use than the pistol did, too. Aunt Glinda—Glindarok, the High Demon Queen, had sent it to me for my twentieth birthday. I didn’t know where she found it, but it was extremely sharp and never lost its edge. She and I still didn’t talk. I’d done my best to understand—or at least to overlook it. I overheard Tory whisper to Ry once that the knife was probably Grey House work, but I didn’t know whether to believe that or not. The knife was made in black metal of some sort and had no glint or gleam if I chose to use it at night. It had turned out to be more than useful. Now, I only wanted it at Zellar’s throat.

Tory and Aurelius were there to say their good-byes the following morning—I’d spent the night in Tory’s bed. He didn’t want to let me go, either. I gave him the best kiss I could, asked him to keep me updated on Gavril and skipped away.

* * *

"Pretty." The drunk I sat beside at the bar attempted to paw my hair. For the third time. I had my knife-point at his throat in less than a blink. The drunk moved his hands and turned away from me. The bartender gave a slight smile in the dim light and went back to washing glasses. Stuffing the knife into the sheath clipped to the leather waistband of my pants, I went back to my drink.

Alcohol doesn’t have the same effect on me anymore—Tory and his father, Gardevik, had done a lot of teaching during the past four years. I was informed that a High Demon doesn’t come into adulthood until age twenty-two. Garde had grinned when he’d shared that information. Under the laws of Kifirin, the High Demon’s world (named after Kifirin, the god) no female was allowed to legally mate until that age. Tory (and Aurelius) had gotten ahead of things. Teeg—well, I didn’t even want to think about him. With High Demons, once adulthood is officially reached, alcohol, anesthetics, pain medications—all had limited effects. Now it took nearly four times the amount of alcohol that would make any normal humanoid drunk just to get me tipsy.

"Want another?" The bartender tapped the bar in front of my glass. I’d chosen what Ry and Tory called a bloody Mary. The alcohol was named Sardof on Alliance worlds. They called it the same here, too.

"Sure." I drained my glass and pushed the empty toward him. The bar was connected to the hotel where Zellar was supposedly staying—I’d been given his alias and the room number, even. Now I watched the door into the hotel from my barstool, hoping that Zellar would come in soon. I didn’t want to sit there drinking all night, in case the bartender had a limit on the number of drinks he could serve to one person.