Kiss of a Demon King iad-7

by Kresley Cole

  Sabine shook her head sharply. "You can't let... him do this!"

  "You try stopping a nearly seven-foot-tall demon who's hopelessly in love."

  "Nïx," Holly murmured, "Sabine needs some clean sheets. They're dirty with all the blood . . . blood-" Her hand flew to her mouth, her face paling even more.

  "Are you having morning sickness again?" Nïx asked. When Holly darted from the room, she called, "My gods, Holly, way to steal Sabine's thunder!"

  To Sabine, Nïx said, "I'll be back shortly. Yell if you need anything." She heard Nïx mumble at the door, "Poach her portal. So going on a T-shirt."

  Sabine lay quaking and stunned. Rydstrom planned to sacrifice everything for her.

  An idea arose, a plot. Could it work? She had little time before the next wave hit-did she have the

  strength?

  She would find the strength, because if he was going to save her, she was going to protect him. Or at least give him the means to protect himself.

  Gritting her teeth, she rolled off the bed, collaps­ing onto the plush rug. She could hear Holly retching in the guest bathroom and Nïx running water for her. Sabine had no strength to hide herself with illusion, but as long as she could hear them, she'd be clear.

  She crawled on her belly from the room, sometimes digging her nails in the carpet to pull herself forward, When she reached the hall at last, it looked intermi- | nable, the distance to his study impossible.

  So weak . . . But she pressed on through the pain. One elbow in front of the other, her legs trailing use-

  lessly behind her.

  Ever listening for the Valkyrie, crawling, crawling. Only her love for that demon kept her going.

  She spit up blood, choked back a cough, crept another foot. Just a few more to the study door . .. then finally inside.

  She'd made it to the armory! With effort, she craned her head to gaze up at the combination lock she'd have to reach. From her place on the floor it looked as attain­able as the moon.

  Rydstrom will die if you don't do this!

  With that thought spurring her, she wobbled to her knees, then began dragging herself unsteadily to her feet. Have to reach it. She was about to crumple to the floor. Can't . . . cant do this.

  A shadow loomed behind her. Sabine twisted her head around. She cursed fate to find Nïx standing behind her.

  "Did you need something, sorceress? Hmm?" She had blankets thrown over her shoulder and was fiddling with something in her pocket. A weapon! "Perhaps a Vicodin?"

  Sabine felt like weeping. "What do . . . you want?" She' d been so close.

  Just as Sabine heard the front door opening, Nïx said "Rydstrom's back with your sister." . He'd already returned? "Nïx, I .. . need ..."

  "And he's about to find you out of bed-"

  "Sabine!" Rydstrom's voice shook the walls of the mansion.

  Sabine's heart was about to seize again. She collapsed to the floor, dazed.

  "Do you want the sword, sorceress? Isn't that what you came here for?"

  Speechless, Sabine gave a weak nod in answer.

  Nïx pulled a giant syringe out of her pocket, holding it up. As Sabine stared in astonishment, Nïx blinked at it, as if she didn't understand where it had come from.

  The Valkyrie scratched her head with her free hand. "Ah!" She smiled, her face lit with realization. "I knew that I'd come here tonight to do one of two things: shove this into your heart or to play Wii. And I forgot my Wii!" She shrugged-

  Then plunged the syringe directly into Sabine's chest.

  Eyes wild, Sabine sucked in a desperate breath, grasp' ing at the needle jutting from her chest-gaping at Nïx as she busily worked the combination on the armory.

  "The adrenaline will keep you conscious for a few more minutes, but not much more."

  Just as fits of energy began flowing through Sabine's body, Nïx unlocked the armory and whistled in a breath at the sword.

  46

  Panic was about to overtake Rydstrom as he tore through the house, yelling for Sabine.

  Lanthe was trailing him, crying, "You lost my sister!"

  His breath rushed out when he found Nïx in the main hall upstairs with Sabine in her arms. The Valkyrie blinked at him. "What? A sorceress can't go check her mascara?"

  He was about to yank Sabine from the Valkyrie, but Nïx said, "Easy, demon. She's hurting. Don't squish her all up."

  With a nod, he took Sabine, gently cradling her.

  Sabine gazed up at him. "Rydstrom, please don't-"

  Nïx interrupted her. "Enough of that. He wants to take you. Count yourself fortunate, Sabine."

  "Ah, gods, Abie!" Lanthe rushed to her side.

  Sabine weakly reached for her sister, then drew back her poisonous hand. "Lanthe . . . stay beside me ... no matter what Omort says."

  Lanthe shook her head. "But he'll make me leave."

  "You can be ... persuasive."

  For some reason the sister went wide-eyed. Rydstrom didn't have time to consider her reaction because another wave was building in Sabine, and she stiffened in his arms, her eyes sliding shut.

  "Lanthe, we've no time to spare," he said. They'd lost hours before they'd found her wandering the streets, looking for Sabine. "We leave for the portal right now."

  At the front door, Cadeon was waiting with Holly, his wife, who Rydstrom only saw briefly before. Ryd­strom was reassured to see that she gazed up at Cadeon with concern and obvious love in her eyes.

  Cadeon moved to block Rydstrom's way. "Let the sorceress's sister take her. There's no reason for you to risk yourself like this."

  "I've told you," Rydstrom said, "that I will not be separated from Sabine."

  "I've got my crew meeting here in just minutes. We're following you in."

  It struck Rydstrom that he might not ever see Cadeon again after this. "No. That's not the mission for tonight," he told him solemnly. "Cade, you can take up the fight in the future."

  "This could be a trick-the sorceress can make us see things. She's trapping you for Omort. Again!"

  Lanthe said, "She's dying! Can't you smell the blood?"

  Cadeon ignored her. "Rydstrom, give me the com­bination to the armory. I'll use that sword tonight!" At his unbending expression, Cadeon said, "Then you take it. Conceal it-"

  Nïx impatiently said, "That won't work. Omort will know if Rydstrom is hiding anything."

  Cadeon shook his head. "There has to be another way."

  "Put yourself in my shoes," Rydstrom said. "Imagine if this were Holly, about to die from pain."

  At that, Cadeon clenched his jaw. With a harsh curse, he stepped aside, slamming his forearm against the doorway in frustration.

  Heading to the drive, Rydstrom looked back over his shoulder. "You'll be a great king."

  Cadeon faced him with his eyes wet. "I don't want to be bloody king! And I don't want to lose my brother, just when things... just when you don't hate me."

  "I never hated you." Rydstrom gruffly added, "I love you, brother. And I'm proud of the man you've become."

  With Sabine in his arms and Lanthe trailing him, Ryd­strom stepped through the smooth portal directly into the court of Tornin.

  Immediately, he spied Omort upon his throne.

  "What is this, Melanthe?" the sorcerer snapped.

  The court was nearly empty-and even more revolt­ing than it had been before. Bodies were piled up, flies buzzing in the stench. The walking-dead revenants lined the walls.

  Rydstrom forced himself to ignore it all; only one thing mattered to him. Without hesitation, he strode toward the dais. Sabine writhed in his arms, her fingers clenched in pain.

  But Omort halted him with a flick of his hand, freez­ing him where he stood. "The demon comes to me?" Omort smiled, his eyes maniacal. Then to Lanthe, he said, "You leave! Now!"

  "Brother, look at her!" Lanthe sobbed. "She's dying. You can't let her die! Please!"

  "Her heart has already stopped," Rydstrom said. "She'll perish in minutes-"


  Omort leaned forward in the throne. "Open your mind to me, demon. Now!"

  Rydstrom did, willing the sorcerer to see the truth- that all he wanted was for Sabine to be safe. "I'm told you have an antidote that will heal her. That's all I seek."

  "You truly have no plan? There is no trick. You merely want your littlefemale to be well. Because you're in love with her?" He gave a bitter laugh. "I could not have punished you more, since loving her has brought me nothing but misery."

  "If you love her, then help her-"

  "Wait . . . there's more in your mind. Sabine, open your eyes." After a moment, she blinked them open. "You've been dealt treachery from one sworn never to give it. The demon tricked you. You are not wed. He lied about the vow. Instead of swearing to protect you, he swore to hurt you."

  Sabine gazed up at Rydstrom, bloody tears gathering.

  "By the look on your face, sister, I think he kept his word."

  Rydstrom wasn't denying it.

  Ah, gods, no! She wanted to be his wife. . .. And she wasn't?. He'd lied?

  No, focus, Sabine!

  She would deal with this grief later. Right now she was in deep with a plot, and another wave of pain was

  coming. Once the shot wore off, she wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

  Sabine knew this wave would be her last....

  Omort continued, "Your treachery's fitting, demon, since Sabine was going to murder your babe. Her own child. Weren't you, Sabine? She and I planned to sac­rifice it to the well to unlock its power. That's why she was working so tirelessly to seduce you."

  "I don't believe that," Rydstrom said. "And you'll never convince me of it."

  "Omort, we can do this later," Lanthe cried. "She needs the morsus now!"

  "And I'll give it to her when the demon's dead and you are gone! Now leave before I finish you."

  Lanthe's tears ceased. Her eyes went cold. "No."

  "What did you say to me?" His words were dripping with malice.

  "I said . .. use-no-sorcery."

  At Lanthe's command, Sabine silently begged, Please let this be the time. Everything rests on this . . .

  Sabine's amazement matched Omort's-because when he raised his hands to punish Lanthe, his palms were cold.

  Rydstrom tensed against her.

  "What is this?" Omort bellowed, that vein pulsing in his forehead. His eyes darkening to a metallic yellow, he stalked after her. "I will make you burn, Melanthe!"

  "Come no closer to me."

  Omort stopped abruptly, staring at Lanthe in bewil­derment. "Guards!" he called for the mindless rev-enants. They marched from the perimeter as one, surrounding them with swords raised.

  Lanthe faced them, and with her voice ringing out, she said, "Fight only each other."

  When they began engaging each other, clashing swords all around them, Lanthe ran for the double doors of the court, barricading them with their locking bar, buying time.

  Sabine thought, That's my sister. . . .

  "No!" Omort yelled. "Demons!"

  "Don't call them!" Lanthe hissed, and Omort fell silent.

  But with that command, Sabine sensed Lanthe's power was depleted once more.

  Rydstrom appeared stunned, even more when Sabine whispered, "I have something for you, demon." She shakily tugged open the edge of one of the blankets that Nïx had bundled her in, presenting him with the sword that lay along her body. She'd asked the Valkyrie, "Why are you doing this? For your army? Or for Rydstrom?" N'ix had answered, "Maybe I'm doing it for you."

  "Sabine, I don't.. . you are sick?"

  "I am, but Nïx gave me a shot... so I could have the strength to give this to you. But it's starting to fade. You have to use this to kill Omort-"

  "Then who will give you the antidote?"

  "The Hag will help . . . but only after Omort dies. There's not . . . much time, Rydstrom. Lanthe's powers are weak. . . . Hettiah might come and erase her com­mands."

  "Then if I right Omort, I risk you. There's not enough

  time-"

  "You can do this. You must. Destroy him forever. It's your due...."

  47

  This was all a trick? Sabine had warned him again and again. I always have a plan, she'd said. Nothing is as it seems with me.

  Here was his chance to destroy Omort, and as he took the sword from her, all he could wonder was if she had feigned her feelings for him.

  No. He knew his woman, and with everything in him he felt that she returned his love. "Sabine-"

  "Kill first... talk later. Please."

  He gave a grave nod, then turned to Lanthe. "Come, take Sabine."

  She hurried over, clasping Sabine in her arms.

  "If you've gotten your powers back, then heal her," Rydstrom said.

  "I'm out, demon. I'm tapped. I can't help Sabine, I can't stop the fire demons from eventually busting down that door, and I can't freeze Omort for you to simply behead him. I forbade him to use sorcery, but he can still fight you."

  Rydstrom grasped the sword, rising up to slay a sor-cerer. Omort's yellow eyes seemed to bulge at the sight of the weapon.

  "How did you get that inside here? Sabine?" He briefly appeared devastated, before his crazed look returned. To Rydstrom, he said, "You forced her to do this. She would never willingly betray me."

  From his scabbard, Omort drew a sword with a mystickal blade of concentrated fire. "Even without my sorcery, I will still take your head! I look forward to meeting you once more in battle-and I fight for her."

  I do, too. "In any other circumstance, I'd want to savor killing you," Rydstrom said, advancing on Omort. "But as much as I've envisioned this fight, I just don't have time for it." Never would he have imagined he'd be fighting Omort, not for his crown, but for the life of the woman he loved.

  They began circling each other. Omort struck first, but Rydstrom made an easy parry, his sword sparking off Omort's blade.

  "My brother Groot forged that sword true," Omort said. "Mine usually cuts through metal." He charged once more, striking with a blinding speed.

  Rydstrom blocked again. Omort was surprisingly good-just as he'd been nearly a millennium ago. He was fast, his eyes revealing nothing. He telegraphed no move.

  Again, they circled, assessing each other for weak' nesses. Omort surged forward, flying to get to his back. Rydstrom pivoted around with his sword for a clean block.

  The sorcerer had skills and technique, but so did Rydstrom. And he could beat Omort's speed with his strength.

  When Rydstrom's sword connected with Omort's, he followed through with all the power in his body, making the sorcerer's weapon quake in his own hands, jarring him with the merciless strike.

  Again and again, their swords clashed. Then Ryd­strom feinted, catching Omort off-guard, and delivered a particularly punishing blow against his sword. Omort staggered, his body growing weaker.

  Just when Rydstrom made a charge to end this, Omort snatched off" his cape, throwing it over Ryd­strom's head.

  His vision obscured, Rydstrom leapt back, snatching at the material, just dodging the worst of Omort's next blow. The blade of fire cleaved through Rydstrom's shirt, searing a line across his chest.

  The sorcerer came in for the kill right as he was able to see once more. Rydstrom switched sword hands as he twisted around, then swung a backhanded blow.

  It landed true. Omort's head thudded to the floor. His corpse dropped to its knees before slumping to the ground.

  Need to get to Sabine. But Rydstrom couldn't repeat the mistake he'd made the last time he'd faced this foe. He forced himself to wait for the space of several heart­beats.

  These moments feel longer than the nine hundred years I've waited for this. . . .

  The sorcerer did not regenerate. A wall of hanging tablets came crashing down, splintering across the floor. With the death of their master, the revenants dropped

  ail around them.

  Rydstrom clutched the hilt of the sword in thanks as he charged for Sabine. The we
apon had fulfilled its

  fated task.

  Lanthe murmured, "No longer deathless-"

  Suddenly, the great doors of the court began bowing as fire demons fought to get inside. Rydstrom skidded to a stop, swinging around, readying for battle once more.

  Over his shoulder, he said to Lanthe. "Still noth­ing?"

  "No, but if we can make it out of here alive, we can

  get to the Hag-"

  The doors began to smoke, then burn. Soon the remaining warriors of the Pravus, mainly fire demons, rushed in. The tide slowed when they spied Omort the Deathless, sprawled beheaded by his throne.

  The call arose among the fire demons to take the castle. They surrounded Rydstrom, raising their palms alight with flames. With this many combining fire, they could kill him. Too many . . .

  Rydstrom heard Sabine scream again as the pain

  hit-Suddenly, the fire demons' attention shifted from

  Rydstrom to something behind him. "Need some help?" Cadeon called. When Rydstrom twisted around, he found his

  brother-and Cadeon's entire crew of mercenaries-

  here and looking bloodthirsty.

  It hit Rydstrom then-with Omort's death, Cadeon could trace once more. And he'd led his men here.

  Just as the mercenaries attacked, Sabine screamed again. Rydstrom charged for her, battering any oppo­nents in his way. When he reached her, he shoved the sword in his belt, then cradled her in his arms. She'd gone unconscious.

  Lanthe said, "We have to find the Hag! She's the only one who can cure her."

  Rydstrom whisked Sabine up, storming from the court. Over his shoulder, he yelled, "Cadeon! Taking her for help!"

  "I've got this!" his brother called back as he slashed at opponents with abandon. "I have some experience against these fucks! And I'm out for fire demon blood."

  Lanthe was right behind Rydstrom as they rushed for the exit. "Demon, head for the base-"

  She was abruptly cut off. When Rydstrom swung around, he saw her skidding across the floor.

  A wild-eyed Hettiah had tackled her, blocking her way to the door. "You and your sister will pay!"

  Lanthe snatched up a sword from a fallen revenant. "Take Sabine! Go!"