Demon Slave (6 page)

“
Tamir!” she called, her
voiced laced with panic.

Tamir, along with all her other guards, were
on the opposite side of the ice. But before any of them could make
their way around it, more gleaming towers exploded skyward, their
path clear.

A glacial cage was forming around her,
trapping her to face approaching rebels alone.

Quill empty, Nadua stowed the bow on her
back and unsheathed her sword, urging Sweetie toward the six
attackers.

Gathering speed, Nadua swung her sword,
slashing the throat of the first she reached. Red spilled down his
torso as he fell. The next one wasn’t far away from the first, and
she jabbed her sword into his jugular.

Sweetie slowed to a stop, corralled by the
remaining four Cyrellians. Before Nadua could pull her blade from
the rebel’s spewing neck, hands were pulling at her from both
sides. Cold metal sliced through her right leg, running all the way
through to the edisdon’s flesh. The beast made a horrific sound and
reared back, knocking off both her and her attackers.

Nadua landed hard, losing her grip on the
hilt of her sword. After a quick sweep around the snow with her
hands, she scrambled to her feet empty handed.

Her four remaining adversaries had recovered
as well. She reached for her dagger, but found the holster was
empty.

One of the rebels smiled then, holding her
own dagger in his hand. “Looking for this, Highness?”

Nadua backed away, contemplating her next
move. With no weapons at her disposal, she would resort to
hand-to-hand combat. With four armed opponents, she knew she hadn’t
a chance, but she would do as much damage as possible while she
could.

Ava’s image flashed in her mind and Nadua
wished she had told her how proud she was of her before she’d left.
She mentally apologized to Fineas for failing him. Her father’s
face came next, flanked by her mother. She was struck with regret
that she would never again see their smiles.

From the large opening above, a stray arrow
landed at her feet, still intact. Before the rebels could react,
she had her bow out, loaded, and aimed at the men. “I’m taking one
of you with me, at least. So which one will it be?”

A massive roar shook the ice walls. From the
corner of her eye, she noticed a blur of motion through the
translucent barrier. A harsh bang reverberated around her. Where
the shadow was, the ice cracked. Unsure what was happening, Nadua
kept her arrow trained on the rebels, who were slipping each other
confused looks.

Another loud crack thundered out. A section
of the barricade splintered in all directions and began to crumble.
An immense body stepped inside.

A quick glance told her it was the demon,
red eyed and horns ablaze.

Stomach churning, she took in the sight of
him. He looked as he had the night before and she remembered now
why she had been so frightened of him.

Great! How do I get out of this one?

What was better: being killed swiftly by
rebels, or ripped apart by an angry demon?

One of the men called out, “What the hell is
that?”

“
That’s a fucking demon!”
another answered. “Kill it!”

They all turned to him, momentarily
forgetting Nadua. She glanced at the rebels and then turned her
gaze to the demon. His sharp fangs were prominent, and his body
seemed to have increased in mass. Bulging muscles strained through
his torn shirt. He looked at her then, and her eyes met with molten
fire. The unimaginable pain promised in their depths had her heart
slamming to her throat.

She released her arrow.

“
Damn it, woman!” the demon
grated.

Her arrow had landed in his neck.

Lurching forward, he plowed through the four
men. The one who had snatched her dagger used it to slash at the
demon’s side just before the demon tore out his throat. In the same
instant, the demon’s hand whipped out and snapped the neck of
another rebel. The last two fled for the exit.

They didn’t get far. The demon lunged after
them and kicked out his leg, planting it directly in the middle of
a rebel’s back. The last Cyrellian made the mistake of looking back
at the sound of his friend’s spine cracking. The demon caught hold
of his head with the palm of his hand, ripping it back, and twisted
until a loud pop rang out.

Nadua hadn’t taken a breath. The whole scene
had left her frozen in awe and fear. Now the demon turned to her
and she forced herself to gather her wits.

Kneeling in the snow, she frantically
searched for her sword.

He was approaching her slowly, probably
figuring she couldn’t put up much of a fight. And with the exit at
his back, there was no way she could make a run for it.

Sword, sword, where is
that damn sword
.
Ah, there you are
.

Her hand gripped cold metal.

Just as she lifted it, a voice called from
behind him in the Cyrellian language. “Halt, demon!”

More of her soldiers poured into the
enclosure. The demon, whose red eyes were beginning to dull, was
still focused on her.

Speaking so he could understand, she said,
“Don’t move, demon, or my men will kill you where you stand.”

He ripped the arrow from his neck. A stream
of blood began to drip. “You shot me!”

“
Of course I shot you! You
may have gone for them first, but I have no doubt that I was
next.”

“
I just saved your life,
woman!”

“
And I’m so sure that was
your intent. How did you get out of the cage?”

The demon looked incredulous for a moment,
then his gaze slid to the small, yet growing, stain of blood at her
feet. “You’re hurt.”

Some of her soldiers noticed too and began
looking her over.

“
It’s nothing,” she assured
them. She had always been a fast healer. Though the wound was deep,
it should be healed in a couple of days. “Tell me how you got
out?”

For a moment, she thought she caught
amusement flash across the demon’s face. “Faulty lock I guess.”

“
Your Highness!” Tamir
approached, hauling one of the rebels along with him. “We’ve
captured one.”

“
Only one? Is he the
Kaiylemi?”

“
I don’t think so. We
killed many, but most ran off like cowards when...” He motioned
with his head at the demon.

Outside the ice, Nadua glanced around at the
carnage. Fallen bodies—some her own men—were strewn everywhere.
White stained with red. They would gather their fallen before
moving on, and bring their bodies back to their families.

What a useless war this was. So much wasted
life, for nothing.

And what a perfect time for the first signs
of the storm to show itself. Small flakes began to settle around
them.

The tent walls snapped as they fought the
strong wind. The storm had started mild but quickly turned fierce,
forcing the group to stop and take shelter.

Marik sat in what was fast becoming his
usual place, tied to the stake in the ground. The captured bandit
sat across from him in a similar position. Surprisingly, he spoke
Demonish. Said he’d learned it during the demon war.

Marik had been trying to gather information
from him for hours, but the bandit, Jedar, seemed disinclined to
converse with him—his prejudice was just as deep as the others. But
then Marik had promised to free him when he was ready to escape,
and the man started talking.

After learning that his people were called
Cyrellians and that they were at war with each other, Marik
convinced Jedar to teach him more of his native language. Still, he
was in no way fluent, but he was able to gather a basic
understanding.

Speaking with Jedar kept Marik’s mind from
drifting to that ungrateful fur ball. At the time, he’d been
shocked that she had used her last arrow on him.

On him!

That infuriating fear back in her eyes.
Later, when he calmed, he realized what he must have looked
like.

Worse, she continued to treat him with the
same disdain, as though he hadn’t just taken out four of her
heavily armed foes. The burns he’d received from their frozen skin
were just beginning to heal. Marik thought she would have shown
some appreciation. Instead, she went to inspect his broken cage and
ordered him placed in another.

Why had those bandits singled her out,
anyway? And where the hell had that ice sprouted from? He posed the
question to Jedar but the bandit just narrowed his gaze and jutted
his chin in the air.

“
Then tell me, why are you
fighting each other?”

“
The false queen,” Jedar
replied. “The one you saved today.” He spat in the snow.

“
That sasquatch is your
queen?”

“
She is no queen of mine.
You see how she binds herself in hides. She is not one of us, yet
she rules absolutely. She must be removed from power, so the true
queen can lead us.”

Marik spoke his next words in Cyrellian,
testing out his knowledge of the language. “Interesting. Where they
take us?”

“
You learn fast, demon.” He
sneered. “So did your brothers, as I recall.”

Marik switched back to Demonish, “I’m sure
they did. So, where are they taking us?”

“
The palace, in the city of
Sori.”

“
Is that where the queen
lives?”

“
The true queen lives
there, as well as the false queen. It’s a city of luxury and
advantages, but not for us, demon. We will only see the dungeons
unless you get us out of here. You’ll have a place with my people
if you vow to fight for our cause. I promise.”

“
Won’t they want me dead
for preventing the ‘false queen’s’ death?”

“
I can explain to them. You
didn’t know what you were doing. You saw only violence and had to
partake, as is your nature.”

Marik kept his eyes from rolling. “As
promised, I’ll get you out of here, but I only want to find a lost
girl and to leave this planet. Have you ever heard of someone who
goes by the name Nadua?”

Jedar tilted his head quizzically. He opened
his mouth to speak but shut it as the tent flap flew open and two
guards entered.

* * *

Tamir stepped into the prisoner’s tent,
followed closely by Nakul. The two captives turned a glaring gaze
at them, and the demon bared his fangs.

Tamir ignored him. If he had not escaped by
now, then it wasn’t going to happen. What a disappointment he’d
turned out to be.

The demon should have been able to free
himself from those ropes. If he had, his primitive mind would have
sought out the closest female body. And since Nadua was the only
female around, it should have been the perfect plan. Even if he
didn’t kill her afterward, Tamir would have done it, and made it
look like the demon’s doing. Now, with the arrival of the rebel, a
new plan was forming.

Beside him, Nakul asked, “Shall we set the
demon loose since he can’t seem to do it himself? I thought you
said they were strong?”

“
Apparently this demon is
not like the others. He’s had his chance and failed. We have a
rebel here who would not hesitate to kill her if he were free to do
so.”

The rebel turned eager, watching them with
hopeful skepticism.

“
When everyone wakes in the
morning, she will be found with his dagger in her chest, and the
rebel will be gone. The obvious will be assumed, and we will return
home with the sad news of the queen’s assassination.”

“
You wish me to kill the
false queen?” asked the rebel.

Tamir scoffed. “Do you think I’d trust
someone so easily captured with such an important task? The only
thing you will be doing is running back to your clan with your
heart still beating.”

At Tamir’s gesture, Nakul moved to cut the
rebel’s bindings. “Now leave, and tell your friends who to thank
when the rightful queen is finally in power.”

The rebel bowed. He made a comment to the
demon in its crude language, before stepping through the exit.
Peeking his head back in, the rebel asked, “What about a weapon?”
Tamir gave him a dangerous look and the rebel backed away. “Right.
Good luck, then.”

Nakul spoke up. “What do we do with the
demon? Should I kill him?” He palmed the hilt of his sword.

“
Not yet. In the morning,
the soldiers will look to me for leadership, and his death will be
my first act. It will raise the spirits of the men after they find
their beloved queen dead.”

“
I can’t believe how many
are loyal to her. It sickens me.”