Demon Slave (19 page)

Sonya made her way to the pub. She shouldn’t
have been surprised when she got there. Should have expected as
much. But the blasting music, and the sight of two busty crew
members, who were allowing her good ale to be poured down the front
of their white blouses, was a shock nonetheless.

The crowd was cheering at the show as she
stomped her way to where Ethanule was mixing a drink for one of the
inebriated patrons waiting at the bar.

When Ethanule spotted Sonya, his smile
dropped a bit. But then his gaze traveled her body and another
expression came over him, nearly freezing her in mid-step. Surely
he didn’t find her attractive. His eyes settled on her bodice
where, she had to admit, her cleavage was looking damn good.

“
What do you think you’re
doing?” Her outrage was buried under the blaring music. Ethanule
stopped pouring when the glass began to overfill and he set it down
as though he’d meant to fill it that full.

“
It looks like I’m serving
this fine gentleman,” he said. The man paid for the drink and
blindly grabbed for the glass, unable to take his gaze away from
the now soaked women who had begun kissing each other. Between the
masculine groans and hollers from the crowd, Sonya was
contemplating how best to murder Ethanule and make it look like an
accident.

“
I am not running a brothel
here!”

“
That’s good, because if
you were, you’d be dangerously low on employees.”

Sonya pointed to the sexual display. “Was
this your idea?”

He lifted his thumb and forefinger together.
“I may have made a tiny suggestion.”

Sonya grabbed him by the collar, bringing
his face closer to hers so that they were both leaning over the
bar. “This is not one of you pirate dens. This pub is my life and I
will not have you defiling it.”

As if unsure where his attention should be,
he alternated between looking at her face and ogling her chest,
pissing her off further.

“
You’re fired! Get
out!”

“
Wait, wait, hold on.” He
reached up and gently removed her hands, which had been itching to
move around his neck. “Look around for a second.”

She did so grudgingly, and saw exactly what
she did before. Sonya shrugged, waiting for further
explanation.

Ethanule pointed past the melee of overly
excited men, surrounding the two females. “Those two are in a
committed relationship. They’re just having some fun with the boys,
and putting a little spice into their relationship.”

“
You’re
kidding.”

“
Not even a little. They
came in during a lovers’ quarrel. I got them to kiss and make up,
and they just didn’t want to stop. Who am I to stand in the way of
true love?”

“
And how did you get them
to kiss and make up?”

“
The same way you get any
two females to kiss. You get them drunk.”

Sonya almost laughed at that, but she
swallowed the urge. Then her gaze slid around the rest of the room.
Besides the drunken horde of testosterone, every table was full
with not only men, but women too. And many of them were reveling at
the show as well.

A little surprised, Sonya plopped down on a
stool, still watching the crowd. The Demon’s Punchbowl hadn’t had a
turn out like this in a while.

The mood on the ship for the last few weeks
has been low at best. With the loss of Marik, and nearly losing
Anya, the tension was as thick as it had ever been. Anya’s return
had given everyone something to cheer for, but now she and
Sebastian were out risking their lives to find Marik.

Aside from all that, there had been little
down time until now. They’d gone from double shifts, to almost no
shifts at all. The ship was in a constant state of waiting, and the
crew was growing antsy.

Normally, Sebastian would
allow
Marada
to
dock at a space city every so often, where the entertainment was a
little more extravagant. But no one had been off the ship in
months, and Sonya supposed this was the crew’s way of letting off a
little steam.

Flipping around to face Ethanule, Sonya
grumbled, “Fine. You’re not fired.”

Ethanule gave a theatrical bow.

“
Just get me a drink,” she
ordered.

“
Of course, my
liege.”

Sonya couldn’t tell if his blatant
disrespect of her authority was supposed to be insulting or
comical. Then she found herself pondering the fact that Ethanule
had been given the opportunity to remove himself from her
employment, and hadn’t taken it.

While his attention was averted, Sonya
openly studied him. Ethanule may claim to have put his pirate life
behind him, but he still dressed like one. Over his loose white
shirt, he wore a tan coat adorned with gold buttons and multiple
buckles. A small, thick gold hoop hung from one of his pointed
ears. A couple of beaded braids peaked out from under his light
blond hair.

Sonya sneered.

She sipped her drink, tasting a heavy hand.
“Ethanule, you had better not put this much alcohol in everyone’s
drinks.”

“
Special for you, my
captain.”

Rolling her eyes, Sonya took a large gulp.
The mixture was a bit off regarding flavor, but it wasn’t much
different than the way she mixed her own drinks. Demons had a
higher tolerance for alcohol than most other races, and they needed
more of it to feel its effects. Did Ethanule know that? Or was he
just trying to get her drunk?

She’d often been surprised at Ethanule’s
knowledge about demon culture. When Anya had mated Sebastian, he’d
acted as though he knew what that meant. Most races outside her
culture had no idea how sacred the mate bond was.

She gulped the last of her glass and
signaled for another. The kissing twits had moved to the makeshift
dance floor and were thoroughly ignoring the ring of testosterone
that had followed them. Maybe they really were lovers. Who
knew?

Sonya mumbled to herself, “I might as well
have a little fun while my bar is being used as a nightclub.”

Dancing had always reminded her of fighting,
only slower and with less blood. After downing her second drink,
she sashayed onto the dance floor, searching the crowd for a
willing partner. She spotted one of the least drunk looking males,
and pulled him onto the floor with her. She searched her memory for
his name. Rick, or Rok maybe.

Rick/Rok wasn’t bad looking, a little taller
than her, not a load of muscle, but not really scrawny, either. He
was a technician, and didn’t often hang out at her pub, which
supported her theory about the crew needing a little excitement.
She wasn’t about to admit that to Ethanule, but her desire to
punish him was waning.

It became clear that Rick/Rok was just this
side of wasted, because as they danced he was blatantly staring at
her body every chance he got. Usually—due to her family ties—men
tended to shy away from her. Especially when it came to anything
sexual. It dawned on her, that with her brothers off the ship, she
might actually get to have a little fun. For once.

His appraisal was flattering, but she was
rather shocked when his arm came around her waist. So much so, she
almost stopped dancing. Then he actually dipped her, and the move
was surprisingly smooth.

She laughed when he brought her back up, and
teased, “You’d better watch out, you might be mistaken as
suave.”

Rick/Rok just gave her a crooked grin and
pulled her against him. Then he began moving one hand down the
curve of her back as they danced.

Just when he was about to reach his
destination, Ethanule appeared behind him. The next thing Sonya
knew, Ethan had decked him so hard that he slumped to the
floor.

“
What the fuck!” She pushed
Ethanule away to examine the unconscious man’s swelling face. There
was no reaction from him when she touched the fresh cut on his
cheek. “Why did you do that?”

“
He was groping
you!”

“
No kidding! If I had
wanted him to stop I would have hit him myself! Heal him!” she
demanded.

“
Sorry, sweetheart, my
power isn’t working at the moment.”

A small crowd had gathered around them.
Sonya pointed to two almost sober looking males. “Take him to
sickbay. Now.” She dragged Ethanule behind the bar and into the
storage room. “What the fuck, Ethan! Why did you hit him?”

The expression on Ethanule’s face was a
mixture of astonishment and bewilderment. “I don’t know why I did
that. I just didn’t think you wanted him touching you.”

“
You deduced that from the
smile on my face?”

Head shaking, Ethanule threw his arms out to
the side. His voice was confounded. “I just didn’t like it.”

A suspicion arose. “Did Sebastian order you
to keep an eye on me? Keep guys away from me?”

He just looked at her.

“
It is none of Sebastian’s
business if I decide to—”

Ethanule pushed her back into the door, and
before she could protest, his lips were on hers.

The abruptness of it had her frozen in
place. The feeling of his body pressed against hers caused a
tingling sensation that traveled through her stomach and took
control of her mind. His kiss was nearly punishing with its
forcefulness, and when his tongue demanded entry, she surrendered,
taking him in her mouth.

She’d kissed guys before, but she’d never
experienced anything like this. This was like a claiming of her
lips. They belonged to Ethanule as long as he wanted them. His hand
found its way to her backside. She gasped when he pulled her lower
half into his and she felt his stiff groin. He rolled his hips,
pressing her harder against the door as his grip tightened from
behind.

Images of the wicked things they could do in
this position assaulted her mind. She flipped him around to take
control, but he wouldn’t have that. With speed and skill that
rivaled her own, he twirled her body and had her front heading for
the wall. She put her hands up to stop herself from slamming into
it. With him at her back, he quickly pulled down her bodice and
covered her breast with his hands.

His aggressiveness was furthering her
arousal. She pressed her ass against his crotch. A satisfying sound
ripped from deep within him.

“
Ah, fuck,” he groaned.
Once again he flipped her, taking her lips again and rubbing a
thumb over her hardened nipple.

A cold button of his coat pressed into her
flesh and she made the mistake of reminding herself who was kissing
her so deeply. She was bombarded by the memory her younger self,
peeking through a crack as those men slashed her father to
death.

It was like fire and ice collided in her
body.

Pushing him away, she straightened her
outfit, and wiped her mouth in disgust. Ethanule grew cold at the
sight.

“
Don’t ever do that again,”
she warned, in a tone filled with the depth of her
loathing.

She was out of there before he could
respond, racing through the halls in a confused fury. Back in her
room, she leaned against the wall, vehemently telling herself that
she didn’t want to go back.

After what must have been hours, they came
upon a sight that made Nadua want to fall to her knees and
rejoice.

The passage opened to a tall cavern, a pool
of clear steaming water at its base. She estimated it was waist
deep, maybe more. Around it was a naturally made path, wide enough
for a single person.

Kneeling on the edge, Nadua reached out for
the water, but paused to give Rex a questioning look. He nodded and
she tentatively put her hand in to test the temperature, and
groaned. It was warm!

Exuberant excitement made her giddy. She
nearly stripped right then and there, but decided tearing off her
clothes in front of two sexually starved demons wasn’t the greatest
idea.

Trying to suppress her excitement, she
asked, “Will we be stopping for the night?”

Rex pointed to a small opening on the
opposite wall. “There is a steep climb to a space large enough for
us to sleep and make a fire. It also leads to an exit.”

“
Show us,” Marik
ordered.

Nadua got the sense that Marik didn’t fully
trust Rex. She wondered if he ever trusted anyone.

She may have had her suspicions about Rex
before, but after seeing how easily that ledge had crumbled, she
knew he had risked his life to save her.

The fissure was narrow, even for her, but
easy to climb. As she slowly ascended, the air transformed into the
familiar crisp chill of Undewla. The change was so drastic she
could almost believe she’d walked through a portal.