Shuddering, I sucked breath through my teeth and worked to push away the overwhelming memory that threatened to unbalance me. These are not my memories, I fiercely reminded myself. I can control this.
Mzatal’s advice came back to me, so I drew a deep breath and mentally traced the stupid pygah. Slowly, the disturbing memory retreated back to its lair. It felt different from the other Elinor memories—more isolated, more nightmarish. I lifted my head to see Kehlirik watching me carefully.
I gave him the steadiest smile I could manage. “I’m okay. It was just a strong memory.”
He let out a snort and nodded as if satisfied that I unmired myself, then flew up to a shoulder of rock overlooking the ruins.
The two faas abruptly chittered and went still as stone, including their tails. I’d never, ever, seen a faas still. Ever. A heartbeat later they both darted off and through the rocks. I blinked in surprise, about to turn and head back down the hill when I felt it: a lord’s aura. And not Rhyzkahl’s, I realized with dismay. This aura was cold. No, not just cold. Cold. As. Fuck.
Shit. I so did not want to deal with any lord right now, especially one that even the faas would hide from. What the hell was that all about? But I couldn’t see any other way down the hill, and I wasn’t small and agile like the faas who’d apparently ducked and hid behind some of the rocks. I finally settled for clambering on a boulder that was partially tucked behind a section of the ruins. Maybe this lord was simply coming up here to do one of those wish-things, and would then leave without bothering to look around. Maybe if I stayed super still he wouldn’t notice me.
And maybe I’ll sprout wings and fly away, I thought with a scowl. I scuttled back into the shadow and as out of sight as I could get.
I breathed as shallowly as possible, listening to the fall of his footsteps on the stone and peering through a gap in the columns. Blond and androgynous, he sauntered into the center of the ruins, then lifted his head, nostrils flaring as though scenting.
He turned to look directly at me. Fuck.
Primal instinct screamed at me to run, but it was all I could do right now to breathe, much less move.
His eyes narrowed. “Come,” he said, voice cold and imperiously commanding.
Gulping back the unreasoning terror, I silently cursed. If I refused there was no telling what he’d do. I climbed down and approached, though I took my damn sweet time doing so. My eyes met his, but I quickly yanked my gaze away. Beautiful. A shocking amethyst color that reminded me of the syraza. But I didn’t like what was behind those eyes, didn’t want to see any more of it. The Symbol Man might have been a ruthless serial killer, but he was a puppy compared to this dude.
I stopped about ten feet away. A smile played on the lord’s lips.
“Come,” he repeated, indicating a spot directly in front of him.
My skin crawled as I moved forward. His aura flowed over me in an oily wave, sending a shudder of nameless horror through me. It was like being near the creepiest person I’d ever known times a thousand. His lips parted slightly, which only served to increase the ick-factor. A shiver raced over my skin, and I struggled to summon anger instead of the mewling terror that wanted to come out.
He stepped closer so that he was barely a foot in front of me, inhaling deeply as his aura surrounded me, viscous and dark. Slowly he moved around me. My breaths became shallow, and I clenched my hands into fists to keep them from shaking. He stopped behind me, stayed there while I gritted my teeth and fought back a shiver.
The lord took hold of the scarf, wound it back around my throat. He held both ends of it while he stood behind me. He didn’t pull, but I knew he wanted me to understand that he could, that he was in control. I swallowed hard, throat moving against the fabric. He gave a light tug, shifting it tighter though nowhere near to the point of choking me. Didn’t matter. Totally had me freaked out. My instincts screamed at me to run, but I knew he would enjoy such a chase, knew that it would end badly for me.
A low whimper escaped me as he exerted slow pressure on the scarf to pull me back against him. He inhaled, mouth close to my ear.
“I know your scent, baztakh,” he murmured, voice resonant with a promise of pain, and terror, and mind-fucking torment.
I squeezed my eyes shut as I sought to tap my anger. He was doing this solely to scare me. And yeah, he was doing a damn good job of it, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t also piss me off. Taking a deep breath, I focused on the peace and calm of the grove.
Still at my back, he released the scarf and put his hands on my shoulders. The way he slid them down my arms almost made me wish it was a sexual move instead of the unknown that it was.
“Perhaps, when Rhyzkahl has finished using you, he will pass you to me.” Dark amusement colored his voice. “I would gladly accept you as partial payment.”
I drew a stupid mental pygah and focused on the peace of the grove, slowing my breathing and regaining my composure despite the extreme level of revulsion. “Payment? For what?”
He laughed and set his hands on both sides of my neck, middle fingers tracing over my larynx. “Such matters are not shared with pets.”
“I am not, and never will be, a pet,” I managed to snarl, holding the feel of the grove close to me.
“Ah, you want to play, little pet?” He chuckled low. “I would very much enjoy that.”
“You bore me,” I said. Play? I had no idea what he was talking about, but I did my damnedest to put as much contempt into my voice as possible. Probably would have been better without the quaver, but I did my best. “I wish no game with you. You’re pathetic.”
He gave a low laugh, moved languidly around to face me. “You do not smell bored. You do not…feel bored.” He ran a finger along my clenched jaw, smiled. Hunger danced in his violet eyes. “Subside or rise fully and show me how pathetic I am.”
What the hell was he talking about? Rise fully? He’s fucking with me, I decided. There was no way I could best a lord.
His eyes stayed on my face, amusement flickering in them as he gauged my reaction to his challenge. He let out a low laugh as he reached and shoved me lightly in the chest, still watching as if studying me.
I took a step back. He was definitely goading me, but to what end? Did he truly expect me to strike out at him? I wasn’t that stupid.
A reyza landed a few feet behind and to the right of the lord. It crouched and bared teeth at me, but this was no reyza smile. As I looked at the demon, recognition tugged, but I couldn’t understand why. I’d never summoned this one. I knew that much. Kehlirik was the only reyza I’d ever summoned. And this wasn’t one of Mzatal’s.
Ice dropped into my belly as the memory struck—my own memory, my own pain: A reyza bellowing as he leaped at me, claws extended. A burning tug at my belly. The sight of my bowels coiled on the floor in front of me. The growing pool of blood.
Sweat stung my armpits despite the chill in the air. This was Sehkeril, the reyza who’d aided the Symbol Man serial killer during his final attempt to summon and bind Rhyzkahl. Sehkeril had eviscerated me, and I had only minutes to live when Rhyzkahl brought me back to the demon realm and allowed me to die here.
The lord closed the gap between us. “I will go now and speak to Rhyzkahl about arrangements,” he said, cold amusement in his voice. He leaned in close—far too close—face beside mine as he murmured in my ear. “Sehkeril will keep you company while I am away.”