“You are troubled, dear one,” Rhyzkahl said, deep voice a rumble in my ear that was against his chest. “Were all my efforts for naught?”
I lifted my head, smiling despite myself. “Not for naught.” Then I had to keep myself from laughing at what I’d said. “It was all very, um, erotic.” I was getting a crick in my neck from looking at him from this position, so I propped myself up on my elbow beside him.
He reached out to stroke the curve of my breast. “I enjoy giving you what you desire.”
“Whether I voice it or not?”
He smiled, potency shimmering behind his eyes. “I could do so much more for you. I could fulfill those desires that you have yet to admit to yourself, that you fear. You would be safe with me.”
Gooseflesh skimmed over my body. I would be safe in most ways, this was true. But I could also see how this could be the thrall that Ryan had spoken of.
“But you are not yet ready,” he continued, withdrawing his hand. “And allowing you to experience such too soon would be harmful.” His eyes met mine, and the flare of power was unmistakable. “I will allow none to harm you.”
I sat up. “You can’t always protect me.” I reached for my shirt. “Hell, something mundane could happen to me. I could get hit by a car or fall down the stairs or get shot by a suspect.” I slid the silk on and began buttoning it. “And it’s not all about the sex, y’know.” No, sometimes it was just my feelings that got hurt.
“I could give you protection at all times, should you wish it.”
I frowned at him. “What, have you by my side 24/7?”
He shook his head. “That is not what I had in mind, nor is it feasible. I cannot neglect my own realm, else I will lose it.”
That was an interesting tidbit and the first time I’d heard him make any sort of reference to the power struggles in his own world. “Then what?”
“I would assign one of my minions to be your protector.”
I laughed. “That would make police work a bit difficult.”
He merely shrugged. “I would emphasize the need for discretion.”
Discretion? I had no idea how a demon could be discreet and still be effective. Obviously there was something I wasn’t quite grasping. I grabbed my pants and pulled them on as I stood. Besides, a full-time protector could also be seen as a full-time chaperone.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. I looked down at him. He’d made no move to dress and was still lying on his side, regarding me. Damn, but he looked good.
“You have recently been hurt,” he said. “It is why you sought comfort and distraction from me.”
I opened my mouth to deny it, then abruptly realized that he wasn’t speaking of a physical hurt. He’d sensed or read my confrontation with Ryan. I swallowed, suddenly not wanting to meet his eyes. “I … kinda had a … disagreement with a friend.”
His lip curled, and I knew he was fully aware to whom I was referring. “He disapproves of me. How ironic.”
Ironic? “What do you mean?”
“You might wonder how he knows enough to disapprove of my presence in your life.”
I had no response for that, and in fact I probably stared at Rhyzkahl for a couple dozen heartbeats as my thoughts whirled in chaotic patterns. In one simple sentence, Rhyzkahl had managed to pinpoint all of my doubts and suspicions and fears about Ryan. Because I did wonder. Why did Ryan speak like someone with a great deal of familiarity with demonkind and demonic lords? Supposedly he’d only very recently encountered one, yet Kehlirik knew him and seemed to despise him. And did Ryan even know? Maybe I’m better off without him.
I almost did it. I almost asked Rhyzkahl to tell me what he knew about Ryan, but I stopped myself before opening my mouth. Yes, I wanted to know, but I realized that I wasn’t so sure I wanted to hear it from Rhyzkahl.
Besides, there were other things I needed to know far more, and I simply couldn’t waste this opportunity. “Can you answer a question for me?”
Now he sat up and began to pull on clothing. He dressed quickly, still not answering me. Finally, when he’d finished pulling his boots on, he stood and looked at me, lowering his head, eyes on me. “Is this a boon that you ask of me?”
Shit. He hadn’t missed the fact that I had yet to agree to be “his” summoner. I took a deep breath. “At this time, yes.” I had to hide my grimace. I would be indebted to him, but for now that was preferable to being bound more securely to him. I guess the sex was a freebie.
He folded his arms across his chest. I couldn’t tell if he was pissed that I hadn’t accepted his offer yet or pleased that I would now owe him one. “What is your question?”
“Something or someone is consuming essence. When it started, the essences were taken as the victims were dying, but now it seems as if the essences are being ripped out, killing the victims. Have you ever heard of someone being able to do that?”
He was silent and still for a number of heartbeats, eyes dark upon me. “We call those creatures who feed on essence saran,” he finally said. “Essence potency is addictive. One who has the ability to utilize it will quickly grow to depend on it, will crave it more.”
“You mean it’s going to get worse?”
“I cannot say. These creatures are rare,” he continued, “no doubt because they are usually slain as soon as the ability is discovered.”
I frowned. “But what is it? Is it a human doing this?”
“It is indeed possible,” he replied, expression inscrutable.
“How?”
He lifted an eyebrow at me. “How is it that you are able to open a portal between our two worlds?”
That gave me pause. I’d been born with the ability and supposedly inherited it from my grandmother. “So it’s an arcane skill that this person is born with?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he said, sounding almost bored. “There are many humans with the ability to shape and manipulate potency. Some can open portals. Some can draw power from essence. A rare few are little more than parasites. You are all descended from the same source.”
This was something I’d never heard before. I knew that there were other people with the ability to shape arcane power, even if they weren’t able to open a portal, but I’d never heard this idea that every arcane practitioner shared some sort of great-great-grandpappy. So what was that original source? I wanted to ask him more about that, but I could already see that he was getting annoyed with the questions, and I wasn’t sure how much more he would put up with. With regret, I wrenched my thoughts back to my original track.
“How is this person getting stronger?”
“Exposure to sufficient potency. Or perhaps consumption of another essence-eater.” He lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug. “There are any number of ways.”
I shoved my fingers through my hair. “Okay, so how can I stop them?”
His eyes narrowed. “I dislike the thought of you pursuing one with this ability.”
“Well, it’s my job,” I retorted. “And people are dying.”
His mouth tightened. “Ah, yes, your duty to protect and serve.” I could hear the sneer in his voice, his disdain not for what I did but for whom I chose to protect and serve. Then he inclined his head. “Yet I understand that this is a matter of honor for you.”
“Yes. I swore an oath.” Which was true, though I’d never really thought about it on this level. I’d been sworn in as an officer after graduating from the academy, and like everyone else I’d raised my right hand and done the I-state-your-name business and never thought twice about it, except that it was one of those things you had to do to be a cop. But for demonkind, an oath was serious, and honor was paramount.