My mouth had gone dry, but I made myself look up at him, forced myself to meet the ancient potency that simmered behind his gaze. “You don’t own me,” I stated as boldly as I could, though the tremor in my voice kind of ruined my show of strength. “I don’t serve you. The deal was that I’d summon you once a month, and you’d answer two questions for me. I’m not going to bow or grovel or…or…”
He released me and spun away, hissing what sounded like an expletive under his breath. “Have I ever demanded thus from you?” His hands tightened into fists, and he looked back at me. He was angry, but it was a different anger than I’d ever seen in him before. I’d seen him filled with the kind of fury that made me mewl in terror, and I’d seen him with a dark anger that could only precede a slaughter. But this anger was…strangely personal.
His jaw tightened. “Have I ever required obeisance from you?”
I shook my head in a jerky move. “No,” I muttered.
He lifted his hand, and I didn’t have to shift into othersight to see the power coiling into his control. Fear spasmed through me, along with the desire to flee, but before the thought could translate into action the potency wound around me, stilling me. In the next heartbeat I was on my knees before him, forced there by his will.
“I could wring such servitude from you if I wished,” he continued, voice resonating in the stone of the basement as my pulse slammed.
“Stop this,” I managed to gasp. Then my gaze was torn from him as my head bowed. “Stop it!” I said, voice shaking more with anger than fear. “I’m not going to fucking beg you to stop, if that’s what you’re waiting for. You’re being a fucking asshole!”
A second later I nearly sprawled face first as he released me. I barely caught myself on my hands in time, then I jerked my head up to see him standing with his head tilted back and his eyes closed, breathing deeply. He opened his eyes and met mine.
“And I will not force this from you,” he stated quietly. “I swear to you I will never do this to you again, unless there is some other pressing and dire need for this manner of display other than my own vanity.”
I didn’t say anything to that. I was so angry I was shaking, and I could tell that I was about to cry. I hated that. I cried when I got angry or frustrated, and that had been happening way too much lately.
He stepped to me and crouched, then pulled me to my feet and enveloped me in his arms before I could think to protest. “Forgive me,” he murmured. “That was a churlish display, and you did not deserve it. I was…an asshole.”
I almost laughed at the admission but managed to hold it back. But I did surreptitiously wipe my sniffly nose on his jacket.
“Apology accepted,” I said. “It didn’t help that I was being a bitch.” My anger was gone now, thankfully. It bugged me that I’d lost control like that. He’s not human. He could have slapped me down a lot harder.
But he hadn’t. That had been a demonic lord version of shouting back at me. In fact he’d shown incredible restraint. I sighed inwardly. Someday I would figure out this fucked up dynamic between us.
I pulled back enough to look up at him. “I, um, find it interesting that you know how to use a computer,” I said, carefully not phrasing it as a question.
To my surprise he kissed me tenderly on the forehead. He’d been doing more of these oddly affectionate moves, which only managed to confuse the living fuck out of me. “Once summoned,” he said, “a demonic lord is able to bring another demon through to this sphere, though it is not simple and requires a great deal of effort. There is a luhrek who is gifted with matters of technology. She performed the work I required.”
He brought another demon through? Okay, that was a big ol’ whopping shocker, and I knew it showed on my face. Yet, again, there was nothing in the terms of our agreement that barred him from doing anything like that.
I could feel a simmer of anger at the edges of my mind, and I took a shaky breath. I had to keep control of it this time. I couldn’t count on him being all nice and understanding if I went mental on him again. I was safe with him only because of the oaths that bound us both. I could fool myself all I wanted about understanding the dynamic between us, but the truth was that I had no idea where I stood with him. Or where I wanted to stand with him. And what if I started seeing someone—like an actual boyfriend? If I ever decided I wanted to stop sleeping with Rhyzkahl, how would he react? Was being my lover part of a plan, or was there any spark at all of true desire to be with me? And if the latter were true…how did I feel about that?
“I want to know why you changed your look but I don’t want to waste a question on that,” I blurted. He lifted an eyebrow, but I bulled onward before he could speak. “I know this is going to seem stupid, but it’s kinda freaking me out because it makes me wonder what you’re up to. And even though I know I can’t really trust you beyond the oaths you’ve given me, I feel more comfortable around you than I feel around most humans, and in some ways I really care about you, and the thought that this whole thing is just you playing me as part of some bigger game is a pretty awful one.” I clamped my lips shut as I felt the flush rise up my neck. Shit. I’d gone mental again with the verbal diarrhea but in a different direction. Did I really just tell him that I didn’t trust him that I cared about him?
“I mean…” I started, but then trailed off. What the fuck was I supposed to say that could serve as any sort of useful damage control? I needed to simply shut the fuck up.
His expression remained inscrutable as he regarded me. “When I watched television with you I realized that it might be useful and worthwhile to more closely conform my appearance to current standards.” He paused. “You are right to be wary of me and to trust cautiously, but I will tell you that some of the decision to change my clothing was based on my observation that you found these styles…appealing. I do hope that on this, at least, you will believe me.”
I managed to give him a smile in response. I wasn’t about to tell him that his changing to please me was the part that was freaking me out.
Rhyzkahl bent his head to kiss me. I returned it, then pulled back and looked up into his face. “I don’t want to fuck today.”
He dipped his head in a slight nod. “Then we will not.”
“I mean, it’s not you at all, and you’re still crazy-hot and sexy, but I just have too many things going through my head today and—”
“Then we will not,” he gently interrupted. “There is never a need to explain or defend such a wish.”
He sure did make it hard to distrust him. The best con men always seem trustworthy, I reminded myself. I leaned my head against his chest and closed my eyes. His hand stroked over me, a warm tingle following its path.
“You like to win, don’t you?” I murmured.
“I do not care for the consequences of losing,” he said.
“Winning has consequences as well.”
“But one tends to have more control over consequences when one is the victor.”
I opened my eyes to look into his. “Do you ever lose?”
“Yes. It is how I know that I prefer to win.” An expression of regret skimmed across his face and was gone. “You have yet to ask your questions, dear one.”
I pulled away from him, moved to the table, and hitched myself up to sit on it. Rhyzkahl’s eyes were intent upon me as if he knew what I was going to ask. For that matter, it was possible that he did know. I desperately wanted to know about the summoning of Szerain. But there was another question that haunted me more.
“I know Ryan Kristoff is a demonic lord,” I said, watching him. To his credit he didn’t twitch, but the hopeful part of me thought it detected just the faintest flicker of interest. I also noted that he neither confirmed nor denied it.