Immortals After Dark 07 - Kiss of a Demon King

to get free again. "I don't understand what the big deal is." When he gaped at her, she gave him a look of disgust.
    "Demon, do you think that was the only time I was murdered?"
    No amount of railing would get her to tell him the story of her deaths. The demon didn't deserve to know. He wouldn't understand it, not as he should, because he'd been conditioned to think differently than she'd been.
    She glared up at him, and whatever he saw in her expression made him release her.
    He ran a hand over his mouth. His appearance was almost back to normal, but he seemed a hair-trigger from turning. "We need to get going," he muttered.
    Get going . . . Farther away from Tornin, from her morsus, from her sister. Starting on another intermi-nable day.
    Her arms were asleep, pinpricks dancing from her shoulders to her wrists as she clenched and released her fists. Her breasts were aching, her unfulfilled desire from the night before hitting her body as hard and as alien as an illness.
    And she'd slept for at least five hours. That hadn't happened since she was a girl! Which meant for all those hours, she'd been vulnerable, her safety completely in Rydstrom's hands.
    She resented that.
    "I heard something this morning-a woman chanting," he-said as he doused the remains of the fire. "But when I went to investigate, no one was there."
    "I didn't hear anything." Evidently, she'd been dreaming, but she couldn't remember of what. At least he hadn't seen her dream.
    "We have to make good time today." As she watched in horror, he took his sword and lopped off the heels of her boots.
    "Don't you think it's time you filled me in on the details of our situation?"
    "I'm taking you with me to my home in Louisiana." He pulled her up to her feet. When she stood naked to his avid gaze, his jaw clenched, but he didn't touch her.
    His manner brisk, he tugged her skirt up her legs. "We have to meet up with refugees who are going off-plane."
    "Omort can tell who comes and goes."
    J
    "Not this time."
    "You're taking me to one of those illegal portals, aren't you? How long will we be walking?"
    "A few more days."

    "He'll find us before you can reach it," she said, making a muscle tic in his scarred cheek.
    Once he'd redressed her in her metal bustier and | altered boots, she said, "What about my hose and j panties?"
    "You won't wear them when you're with me."
    She bit her tongue. "If you won't free me, then I need you to go fetch my collar and headdress for me."
    "Go fetch?"
    "I didn't mean it like that."
    "Not a chance, princess."
    "But you have to!"
    He stormed over to both, swooping them up. "What is so bloody important about them? They almost made you drown!" He twisted around to lob them into the water.
    She shrieked, "No!" But it was too late. They were gone.
    Her breath left her, and she rocked on her feet. Gold is life . . . The smooth water surface had erased them from the earth, like they'd never existed. Her bottom lip trembled, but she could do nothing to hide it, not emotionally, not mystickally.
    "Come, then," he said, his voice gruff.
    As he took her arm, she gazed over her shoulder. "I can't believe you did that." Losing gold to another was one thing, but to throw it away . . . ? Incomprehensible. "There's no excuse. None."
    "It's worthless out here."
    "Not worthless, you oaf! Those pieces protected my Head and neck!"
    "Then you'll have to depend on me to do their job!" When he drew her along, she trudged forward in stony silence....
    After that, hours passed without event. She found his green eyes constantly on her. He was becoming more attentive, helping her over rough patches in the terrain, holding her arm to steady her. But he still wouldn't release her bindings.
    And any time she tried to convince him to let her go, he threatened the gag. She wondered how real that threat was, because he clearly wanted to talk to her today-but only about one topic. He kept asking her how many times she'd died.
    Finally she said, "Why do you care? Does it soften you to know terrible things were done to me when I was a girl?"
    "I... don't know. Do you want my sympathy?"
    She shrugged. "I don't deserve your sympathy." Though this could have been a maudlin statement, she said it as if it was a fact of life. Because it was.
    "The strand of white in your hair. I've heard of that occurring when someone knows fear so bad, it shocks their system. What happened to you, Sabine? Did Omort hurt you?"
    "He's never hurt me." Physically.
    "You are still loyal