Demon Slave (Shadow Quest Book 2)

by Kiersten Fay

  “Still, I’d have to insist on waiting for my friends. I’m strong alone, but your army still took me down. If we wait for Marada, you’d have four demons and Ethanule to safeguard you, among others.”

  “Ethanule?” Nadua’s heart leaped. She and Ethanule used to flirt when he was tasked as her guard. She thought him very handsome. “Ethan is with you?” There was no stopping the little smile that slid over her lips.

  The demon sat back, a strange look covering his features. “He’s the one who translated the book and found your location.”

  “If Ethan is with your friends, then I feel much better about waiting till we rendezvous with them. He is a considerable warrior among my people.”

  “My kind isn’t enough?”

  Nadua looked up, wondering at the dark tone in his voice. “It’s not that. It’s just, I don’t know your friends. Or you, for that matter.” She recalled her vision of his enraged visage and wondered if she was doing the right thing by going along with him. “I don’t even know my sister,” Nadua continued. “She was very young when we were separated. But Ethan and I...” She could feel heat enter her cheeks. “We used to—”

  “I don’t need to hear it.” Marik interrupted in a tone meant to end the conversation. He stood and brushed his pants clean. “We should get moving before we lose the light.”

  The sudden surliness was odd to her, but maybe it was a demon thing. From the stories, they could change moods with the fall of each snowflake.

  * * *

  It was obvious to Marik what Nadua and Ethan used to do. The chit grew red with embarrassment just remembering. He didn’t know why learning she had been with Ethanule made him suddenly want to murder the man. It was none of his business.

  They did need to get moving, though. Nadua figured it would take quite a few days to walk back to the location where Marik had been captured. But as they began their journey she continued to make the argument for going back to the palace, which would take roughly the same amount of time.

  “Once we get there,” she offered, “I can send soldiers out to find your friends.”

  “Like I said, we can’t trust your soldiers.”

  Clearly Nadua wasn’t used to not getting her way because her bottom lip stuck out every time he refused to give in. Marik found it sickeningly cute. At least she wasn’t trying to assault him with rocks anymore.

  Traveling near the mountains provided a good amount of cover. The area was thick with trees.

  Although Marik felt they were adequately hidden from wandering eyes, he couldn’t be sure. There was nothing on the wind, no sound that alerted him to danger, but something was making him uneasy. He kept glancing behind them to be sure no one was following.

  According to Nadua, the mountains housed countless caves where they could find shelter, though she was admittedly anxious about going into them. When he asked why, she just said that many souls were lost to them.

  As they traveled, neither made the effort to hold a conversation, which was fine by Marik. Staying focused was more important than idle chit chat, though he found the sound of her voice pleasing.

  There was an apprehensive truce between them. He worried that she was only pretending to go along with him to force his guard to drop. And, in order to discover any such pretense, he watched her closely—which turned out to be a bad idea. Seeing the way she moved over the uneven terrain made him constantly visualize the body hidden by all that fur, and had him fighting to ignore his swollen shaft. When she bent to adjust the lacing of her boots, he barely kept himself from palming her backside.

  Forcing his eyes in another direction, Marik realized what was happening to him, and he needed to get a hold of himself. There must be some residual chemicals flowing through him from when he’d been driven to the Edge twice this last week. It wasn’t enough to make him crave violence...but physical release....

  He couldn’t allow it. Not only because it would lead to further awkwardness between them, but blacking out now would leave them both vulnerable to attack.

  Cale would tell him that it was because he forced himself to abstain too long that he could never remember a night with a female.

  “Demons are made for sex,” Cale would say.

  But that wasn’t the reason Marik’s mind retreated during his sexual encounters. It was the disturbing flashbacks of the arena, from his days as a slave. Too many times he’d been forced to the Edge by his masters, only to supply them with an evening’s entertainment by becoming some poor female’s nightmare.

  Luckily, the gods had taken pity, and the worst of those memories were deeply suppressed. But bedding a female always ended the same. Marik would wake up next to some random sleeping woman, make sure he hadn’t hurt her—as he always feared—and then sneak back to the Marada without waking her. His body would recognize that its lust had been slaked, but he could never recall what they’d done together, or if either of them had even enjoyed it.

  “Are you alright?” Nadua asked.

  Marik schooled his expression. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking of the past.”

  “What is in the past that has you looking like that?”

  “Nothing of importance.” He looked to the dimming sky. “It’s getting dark. Keep an eye out for shelter.”

  Nadua actually giggled at him then. “Whatever it is, it has you pretty distracted.” She pointed to her right.

  A large-mouthed cave stared bluntly back at him. At his dumfounded expression, Nadua laughed again, a beautiful sound that soothed something inside him, and he couldn’t help but smile too.

  As they entered, Marik noted how quickly Nadua’s mood changed. A sense of unease floated from her.

  “You fear the caves that much?”

  “The Cyrellians have many stories regarding these caves.”

  Marik snorted. “Those people sure love their legends.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Well, from what I can tell, they’ve painted a horrible picture of demons in the minds of everyone.”

  “That’s because demons are...” Nadua trailed off, as if suddenly remembering that he was one.

  “I’m not so bad, am I?”

  Nadua shrugged, a slight curve to her lips. “I’m holding off on my judgment for now.”

  “I’ll bet the stories have gotten progressively worse over the years, probably to scare children into going to bed. Right?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Then it is possible that the stories about these caves are overblown, as well. Don’t you agree?”

  “You’re just trying to make me feel better about having to sleep here.”

  “Maybe. Is it working?”

  “A little.”

  Suddenly, Nadua jerked her head toward the trees, as if she caught sight of something. A light breeze carried the scent to Marik a second later. On instinct, he pulled Nadua against him and twisted his body to shield her. Pain speared him when two sharp objects embedded themselves into his back. Cold objects.

  Nadua gasped. “Kaiylemi.”

  Was that a person? He didn’t have a chance to ask. Just as another sharp item found his calf, the Edge took over. He managed to pull Nadua farther into the cave and set her behind a large boulder along with their sack of supplies. When she looked at him, her eyes widened in fear. He nearly growled in frustration at that, but the urge to protect her swallowed him.

  Following the scent, Marik raced into the forest. He sniffed and realized there was more than one that he hunted. Three at least.

  Something flew toward him and his shoulder was pushed back as it made contact. Removing the weapon from his flesh, he tossed it angrily at a thick trunk. It shattered on impact. A shaft of ice?

  There was movement behind the trees. Marik shot forward, ready to use his claws on those who threatened Nadua. Whoever it was, they were fast. Dodging through thick trunks, Marik attempted to gain ground. A couple more ice daggers shot at him, but this time he knocked them away.

  Just a
head he heard a roar followed by a yelp, and then silence. Marik came to a drastic stop as he nearly tripped over a lifeless Cyrellian male body. Four deep gashes marred his chest, and his head was twisted unnaturally. Still gripped in the man’s hand was a sharp piece of ice. Scouring the surroundings, Marik tried to scent if someone else was near, but there was nothing.

  In the distance, Nadua screamed. Like a blanket, the Edge wrapped is mind so that only a single thought pushed his legs into action.

  Protect Nadua.

  * * *

  Nadua put her hands in the air as the glossy tip of the sword poked at her. Soon after Marik had disappeared into the woods, two men had appeared. Nomads. She’d heard Marik roaring and feared the Kaiylemi had killed him with the ice arrows.

  While one Cyrellian held her at the end of his blade, another rummaged through the makeshift fur sack.

  “Just grab the whole thing and let’s get out of here! I don’t want that creature coming back.”

  The one pilfering the pack replied, “Dedrick should be able to take care of him.”

  Neither Cyrellian noticed the shadowy figure growing behind them.

  Nadua gulped at the sight of Marik’s slow approach. When the men finally saw him, their attention shifted. Nadua used the distraction and kicked the man with the sword, right in the jaw. He stumbled back into Marik, who was like a monster from a thousand nightmares.

  Unmitigated rage rolled off him in palpable waves. Nadua managed to turn away just as Marik snapped the man’s neck. The sword he’d been holding crashed to the rocky ground. The second man only made a soft gurgling noise. Next came the sound of the bodies being dragged away. Braving a look, she realized she was alone.

  Nadua didn’t know why she couldn’t watch. She’d killed men herself, plenty. Would again, if she needed to. But seeing Marik in that wild state had seemed wrong.

  Her heavy breathing echoed off the thick walls, her body frozen in shock, but when Marik reappeared in the mouth of the cave she reached for the sword. He was still in a state of bloodlust and was, what she could only describe as, stalking her.

  “Marik?”

  His head tilted to the side, as if he didn’t recognize his own name.

  What would he do to her?

  Unfortunately, she knew the answer to that question by the way his desperate gaze was traveling her body.

  Ominously, he inched forward and she rose to her full height, lifting the sword toward him. Determined red eyes scanned the metal before sweeping back to her face. His expression said, “I am getting past that sword.” And he probably would, but Nadua wasn’t the type to become prey to a crazed demon without a fight.

  He took another step. Nadua swung the blade, forcing him back. His eyes narrowed.

  “That’s right, demon. I’m not so easy, am I?” As soon as she said it, she knew she made a dangerous mistake. At the word “demon”, a fearsome sound rumbled up from within him. When he moved again, Nadua tried to strike, but he was much faster than she. He had her down on her back in seconds.

  She expected pain next, but when none came she peeked open an eye. Marik was gazing down at her, his features unreadable. As if trying not to alarm her—as it was, her heart was ready to burst from her chest—one callus hand unhurriedly reached for her face. Afraid it would provoke him, Nadua stifled a flinch. His thumb caressed her cheek while the rest of his fingers threaded through her hair.

  Nadua was stunned by the gentleness, when he looked as though ready to tear the flesh from her throat with his lengthening fangs.

  Even after she agreed to journey with him, she’d been in constant fear of encountering this side of him, with no way to defend herself. The Cyrellians called it the Demon’s Madness, where a demon loses all sanity and is no more than a primitive beast.

  Well, they were right. Marik looked beastly. But she didn’t think he was going to hurt her. Then he shifted his hips, giving her a better idea of what he had in mind. Her throat went dry.

  Earlier, while they were traveling the forest, she had to work to keep her eyes from drifting his way. It was hard not to marvel at his strong, fluid movements. He oozed power. And every time he looked at her too, it had felt as though he were consuming her with his eyes.

  And she had liked it.

  So long has it been, since a man looked at her in that way. It made her stomach flip and her mind drift to all the things she could do with him. Things she often feared she’d never experience again. For the last few centuries, Nadua had tried to force herself to forget what it was like to be with a man. How good it could be.

  Could she trust Marik not to hurt her?

  Just as his eyes dipped to her lips, his hand moved to cup the back of her neck. Nadua’s heart rate spiked uncontrollably, while the rest of her body relaxed for him.

  She knew it was going to happen, was ready for it, but when he pulled her to his lips, nothing could have prepared her for the heavy rush of desire that slammed through her. Her breasts grew sensitive against the material of her shirt. Liquid gathered between her legs. Her head turned to deepen the contact.

  Then his kiss, slow and testing at first, became something more. Bodies pressing deeper, his tongue delved to meet hers. Nadua answered back in kind, lost to the moment. She’d never been shy about things like this; her only apprehension was that Marik wasn’t himself. He was animalistic and unpredictable.

  And oh, how she loved it.

  Her body arched when his tongue trailed the line of her jaw to play with that sensitive area of flesh at her neckline. When he pushed his hips closer to hers, she felt his budding erection. Her body clenched in anticipation.

  But then his hands grew impatient, roaming the thick fur of her outfit, he clutched a handful of the material as though he were ready to rip it from her.

  She gasped, “Marik, no!” If he tore her furs, she’d have no way of repairing them.

  Body shaking with need, he stilled and his molten eyes found hers. Their normal color slowly started to bleed back into the red. After a moment longer, they were once more fully green.

  He eased back. A shadow of regret lingered behind his eyes. Letting go of her completely, he crouched a few feet away. When he looked her over, as though seeing her for the first time, there was no more heat in his gaze. “Did they hurt you? Did...I...” He trailed off, his unspoken words lingering between them.

  “No. I’m fine, really.” She reached out for him but he shot to his feet. To avoid her touch? “Are you okay?” She noticed a small trail of blood at his shoulder. The Kaiylemi must have gotten him.

  Instead of answering her question, he said, “I’m sorry I frightened you. It won’t happen again.” It didn’t sound like he believed his own words. He looked at his hands then, as if suddenly remembering something. “Tell me, what kind of animal can claw a man to death?”

  Besides you?

  “I...don’t think there are any on Undewla. Why?”

  At length he said, “Something had gotten to one of them before me.”

  His concerned expression was alarming. Whatever a demon feared would not bode well for her.

  “I’m going to search for something for us to eat while it’s still light. I don’t sense anyone else near. Will you be alright here?”

  “Of course.” She reclaimed the hilt of the sword.

  He nodded and then hesitated, looking as though he was contemplating making her tag along with him. “You won’t run?”

  Nadua tilted her head. “I have nowhere to run to.”

  “And if you did?”

  Her brows drew together as she considered his question. There was something deeper in it. “I don’t know,” she finally offered. “This is unlike any situation I’ve ever been in.” The last few days played back in her mind. “You may think abducting me was the right thing to do, but can you honestly protect the both of us out here? What if there had been more than one Kaiylemi just now? And what if you lose yourself to that madness again? Could you keep yourself from hurting me
next time?”

  His features grew dark, and she feared her questioning had upset him.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he grated. A sliver of uncertainty crossed his face, but was quickly replaced with determination. “I won’t.”

  “Are you trying to convince me? Or yourself?”

  She waited for an answer, but, fists clenched, he only turned and left without another word. That was probably the most revealing conversation they’d had thus far. He was unsure of his level of control, and so was she.

  Chapter 12

  From a window in the palace, Ava watched with unbridled excitement as the troops marched closer to Sori. She’d spotted them as they appeared from behind the low hills, just outside the city. Her loud screech alerted Wren, who entered her room, weapon drawn, as though to face an army.

  “We must go meet them!” she cried, rushing toward the door.

  “My queen!” Wren caught her arm.

  Ava bounced with impatience. “What?”

  “You should not be seen in this manner.”

  She looked down at herself. “Oops.” She was dressed in her sleeping gown and slippers. After calling for her maid, Terina, Ava ransacked her closet, choosing a deep blue gown that Nadua always said went nicely with her white hair and drove the boys nuts. Ava held it up against her body for Wren’s inspection.

  “That would be lovely,” he said, and then, as always when women things were about to happen, he retreated from sight. But she knew he’d stay close by in the hall.

  With Terina’s help, she dressed and had her hair up in an elegant style in no time. Then she was out the door, startling Wren once again with her speed. Keeping up with her eager pace, he followed close behind.

  “My queen, slow down. Watch your step on the stairs,” he warned.

  Wren was always trying to get her to be more responsible, but she would be queen soon—the ultimate responsibility. And Nadua had told her this was her time to be reckless, and irresponsible. So she would be.