Immortals After Dark 07 - Kiss of a Demon King

he wanted from her.
    "I will, then," she finally said. "But I have some conditions." When he waved her on in that kingly way of his, she said, "The parity is done. We start this as equals."
    "Agreed. As long as we start this."
    "And I will only commit to six days with you. After that we'll reconvene."
    "Why only six days?"
    "Six is my favorite number," she lied.
    "No, it's not."
    "You're right. But it's still my condition."
    "Anything else?"
    "We never speak of Omort during this time."
    After a hesitation, he nodded, then said, "I have some as well. You'll have to be honest with me."
    "I will be, as much as I can."
    "Sabine . .."
    "Look, that's a really big concession for someone like me to make."
    He exhaled. "You have to give this thing between us a fair try. Can you do that, cwena?" He stroked his thumb over her cheek.
    Sabine frowned just as he grinned. She hadn't flinched.
    36
    New Orleans, Louisiana
    We have to walk?" she murmured, exhausted from the rough crossing.
    The coordinates Rydstrom had given the portal jockey hadn't gotten them directly to his house.
    "It's not far. Just six houses down."
    She could tell he was anxious for her to like his home. She admired what she'd seen of the posh neighborhood, but she was too tired and chilled to be excited for him.
    The portal they'd just come through had felt as if it had been hacked through space. Compared to it, Lanthe's thresholds were seamless masterpieces. No wonder she could only create one every so often.
    "Are you sad about Puck?" he asked.
    "Just tired." In truth, she might like to see the little punk again. He'd been bawling for her.
    Which shouldn't have shocked anyone.
    "Chin up, demon boy person," she'd told him with an awkward pat on his head. Then she'd given him a note that she'd had translated into Demonish. When he'd read it, his eyes had lit up, and he'd nodded gravely.
    "What did the note say?" Rydstrom had asked.
    "It said that if he is bad enough, they will send him to come live with me."
    Rydstrom had given her that look-the cross between perplexity and bewilderment, the one she believed he used only for her. The one that said, "Surely, you're kidding. 1 really want you to be jesting. "
    "Here it is," he said when they came upon an estate with towering wooden gates and stone walls covered with ivy.
    The grounds were immaculate, the mansion stunning with its Corinthian columns and wraparound veranda. The effect as a whole was opulent but tasteful. The sultry air was redolent with the scent of gardenias.
    "How big is this place?"
    "Plus or minus twenty-thousand square feet." At the front entrance, he said simply, "I want you to like it here."
    "I'm sure I'll love it if the inside is anything like the outside." So tired. Sabine shivered.
    He held her hand as he opened the door. At once, the smell of sour beer and cigars wafted over them. She put her free hand over her mouth.

"What in the hell?" he muttered as they journeyed deeper inside.
    In the sitting room, beer-soaked Playgirl magazines lay over clearly expensive antique furnishings. Cartons
    from drink mixers were strewn over a wooden floor. Two empty kegs floated in barrels of melted ice-atop luxury ous oriental rugs.
    She followed Rydstrom's gaze up. Above them hung a resplendent bronze d'ore chandelier with chains of rock crystal gracing filigree arms. From one of those arms dangled a ... thong.
    He was growing more and more furious. "This looks like Cadeon's pool house."
    Sabine didn't care what it looked like. She just wanted a bed-in a place that didn't smell like this.
    Surveying the destruction, he absently said, "Maybe Rok did this?"
    "Who's Rok?"
    "Cadeon's roommate."
    When they heard laughter outside, Rydstrom stormed toward the sound, dragging her along to a terrace that overlooked manicured grounds-as well as an oversize pool that was chock-full with dazzling females. They were all clad in bikinis. Or less. Topless chicken fighting was currently underway.
    "Your friends visiting?" she asked archly.
    "I don't know half of them. Looks like Valkyries and witches."
    Witches? Usually, she'd be on guard around a group of them, but these females were tanked.
    Out of habit Sabine probed for their powers, not finding anything there she'd get out of bed for.
    But Rydstrom's attention had narrowed on one woman-a petite beauty sitting on a chaise longue, smoking a cigar and talking on a cell phone.
    She wore a red string bikini, stilettos, and a tiny T-shirt that said, "Heels Tall. . .