"I need your help," she said, her voice throaty.
"Of course." What would she think of his battle-scarred face up close? He hadn't cared much in the past, but with her…the idea of seeing her disgust made him hesitate. Until she turned and skipped down an embankment—farther away from him.
He hastened after her. "Do you live near here?"
"Need your help," she said once more, ducking behind a willow by the water's edge.
He joined her beneath the tree. "I have to get back to the city, but then I can come back to help you." And get all your information so I can return for you once my duties are done.
As he gazed down at her face, he began to feel dizzy once more, on edge even. His reaction to her seemed too powerful, her looks too alluring to be real. She had high cheekbones and the most flawless pale skin he'd ever seen. Her pink lips were plump and glistening.
Just when he began to draw back, she said, "Help me now." Grasping his hand in her two small ones, she kissed his palm with those smiling lips, then placed it over one of her full breasts.
Every muscle in his body tightened with want. Unable to stop himself, he kneaded her flesh with a low groan. The promise of pleasure blazed from her mesmerizing eyes, and he found himself lowering his defenses.
"This is what I need," she murmured in a siren's voice, arching to his hand.
"And the gods know that I want to give it to you, right after I've settled—"
"I need it"—she took his other hand and placed it high on her inner thigh—"now."
Rydstrom tried to shake himself. He had responsibilities. But I've been so long without a woman.
He hissed out a breath when she raised her hands to his horns, boldly grasping them to tug him down to her. "Kiss me, demon."
When a female steered a demon male like this…Rydstrom shuddered from the savage thrill, bowing his head as she bade him to with her sexual grip. Their lips met, and lust rocked him.
He felt a connection with her. Maybe even the connection.
With that thought in mind, he began taking her mouth hard. She was experienced, urging him on, meeting every thrust of his tongue, teasing him until his hands landed on her soft ass to rock her against his shaft.
Still, he somehow broke away from her. "I…can't do this now. I have to meet someone. Much rides on this."
"Make love to me," she whispered, now sidling closer to him. "Here. Under this tree, in the moonlight. I'm aching for you."
His horns were straightening, his cock throbbing. He could scarcely withstand the need to be inside her luscious body.
But he had to. The kingdom's needs always come before the king's. "No. I have obligations," he bit out, hating those obligations for the first time. Resenting them.
When he backed away, her brows drew together. "Then you leave me no choice, Rydstrom."
Just when he wondered how she knew his name, the road began disappearing, as though the earth had been draped, disguised. He twisted around.
An illusion all around him. Behind him, he heard a clang like the door of a jail cell slamming shut. As the chimera vanished, realization hit him.
"You're Omort and Groot's sister. Sabine, the Queen of Illusions." She'd opened a portal into a dungeon, then disguised it as just a continuation of the road.
"Very good, Rydstrom."
He'd warned Cade that their enemy would stop at nothing to thwart them in their quest to get that sword. Rydstrom hadn't known the sorcerer's sister was in league with Omort, or that she was this powerful in her own right.
And if the rumors were true…
Then she was even more treacherous than either of her brothers.
The most beautiful female Rydstrom had ever seen was the most evil. Or maybe this wasn't her true likeness at all. She'd probably given him exactly what he needed to see to become spellbound. "Show me your real form."
"This is." She smoothed her palms over her breasts and lower. "I'm so pleased by how much it arouses you."
Even now it did, and he despised her for it. "Why have you done this to me, Sabine?"
"It's not obvious?" With a flick of her pale hand, she directed his gaze to a bed in the center of the cell. It was uncovered and unadorned—but for the chains at the head and foot.
7
"You're a…slob," Holly murmured with a shudder, aghast at Cadeon's living quarters.
"Tell me how you really feel, Holly. No need to hold back."
Shirts hung over lampshades. The floor was dotted with old pizza boxes and crushed beer cans. DVDs were strewn everywhere, some with titles that had her flushing with embarrassment.
The chandelier that hung overhead had seventeen lit bulbs and ten bulbs out. She itched to knock out two more to make both numbers divisible by three. "This is…how can you…you live like this?"
When they'd first pulled up to this estate, she'd been impressed by the luxurious Garden District residence, one not far from her childhood home. They'd driven through wooden gates past the mansion to this pool house—which was also striking, easily twice as large as her spacious loft.
But inside, chaos reigned.
"Didn't know I'd be having company."
"Would you have cleaned if you had?" she asked.
With a shameless grin, he said, "Nah." Taking her by the elbow, he steered her to his bedroom, then into a bathroom that thankfully wasn't the biohazard she'd been expecting. "You've got five minutes. Clear?"
Holly nodded silently, still stunned by the disorder, shaking from the need to fix it.
"This is not the time to be peering at your new ears in the mirror or examining your claws." He turned on the water, adjusting the temperature. "Just get the blood and swamp water off."
He picked up a shampoo bottle, and must have found it empty, because he tossed it. "I'll be back." He jogged out.
When he returned, he had a towel and washcloth over his shoulder and his hands full of miniature shampoo and conditioner bottles. "My flatmate can't pass up anything free. There should be some you'll like."
He opened the glass enclosure and carelessly dropped them into the tub, where they scattered randomly.
Random. Holly hated random.
Tossing the towel and washcloth on the counter, he said, "I'll dig around, see if I can find you something to wear that won't swallow you. Call me if you need anything else."
When he closed the door behind him, she locked it. After tugging the filthy shirt over her head, she folded it and the towel as well. She grabbed the washcloth, then stepped under the steaming cascade.
All around her feet, bottles rolled with no order, no design. They taunted her.
She knew she didn't have time to arrange them into threes, but could barely resist the urge. Just don't look down.
Yet she had to in order to grab shampoo. Taking a breath, she plucked up a bottle.
Then she closed her eyes as she lathered her hair, trying to ignore her pointed ears with their sensitive, sharp tips and her longer, stronger…claws.
After shampooing her hair twice and rinsing conditioner through it, she scrubbed her skin till it burned.
Cadeon hadn't wanted her to gaze at her new features, but she had no inclination to. She just wanted out of this nightmare, wanted to get back to her ordered life, her ordered loft, her on-track career—
Oh, God, Tim!
Her boyfriend of over two years was even now in California presenting their research at a conference, working for their future. They planned for him to get a job at a local software security firm and continue his research, while she would teach.
How could she face him like this? How could she explain? Well, I got struck by this bolt of lightning, and, voilà, I was able to kill a dozen demons. Did the lightning hurt? No, it felt great. Like a hug from someone you'd really missed.