Demon Slave (7 page)

“
Not to worry, Nakul. Once
the true queen and I are wed, I will cleanse the palace of these
traitors. Now take this.” Tamir placed the rebel’s dagger in
Nakul’s outstretched hand.

“
You honor me, My
Liege.”

“
Wait till she sleeps.”
Tamir put a warning in his tone. “If you’re caught—”

“
I will not be.”

* * *

It was obvious to Marik what was happening.
He didn’t need Jedar’s parting words, “Guess I won’t need your help
after all, demon. The false queen dies tonight,” to know they were
going to murder the woman who was their queen.

Marik didn’t understand why the idea sat in
his stomach like a heavy weight. This political animosity was none
of his business. His first priority was to find Nadua, and he was
only tagging along with these people for convenience.

He could leave now, go it on his own, but he
still had no idea where he was, or where to find civilization, or
where he should begin his search. Even if he did come across a
town, the people there would probably only try to kill him.

A thought sparked in his
mind. He could warn this
queen
of the plot against her. Save her life—again.
Perhaps this time she’d be more inclined to help him. At the very
least, he could demand some food for his service. They hadn’t
bothered to feed him. And if they didn’t yet know it, they soon
would: a hungry demon was a dangerous being.

The two Cyrellian betrayers quietly left.
Marik waited a few moments before snapping the rope around his
wrists. Easing toward the flap, he peeked through the small
opening. The campsite was almost fully shaded in darkness, but for
a few lit tents.

The storm had died down to a thick, but
otherwise peaceful, snowfall. A few distant shadows drifted about.
Possibly guards on patrol.

Feeling secure no one was close, Marik
stepped from the tent and weaved his way through camp.

Of the few brightly lit tents, only one
featured a guard posted outside. Marik spied another one patrolling
on the other side of camp, coming his way. All others were likely
on the outskirts, keeping watch for another ambush.

Sticking to the shadows, Marik moved closer.
The fine coat of the newly fallen snow helped hide the sound of his
footsteps. Just as the patrolling guard approached, Marik crouched
behind a tent. To hide the white puffs from his breathing, Marik
sucked in a breath, held it, and waited.

Clearly in no hurry, the man strolled by,
his attention on the dark patch of trees just ahead of him. The man
stilled for a moment, listening, and then turned back the way he
came. Marik exhaled slowly.

Now was his chance. He shot toward his
target. The guard only had time to widen his eyes before Marik
knocked him unconscious. Holding the man’s weight, he dragged him
into the tent, and tossed him to the side.

The urgency to explain
himself stuck in his throat the moment Marik caught sight of
the
queen
.

His throat went dry and the only words he
could manage were, “Oh shit.”

The welcomed heat of the fire warmed her
body, freed from the confining furs. She had traded the skins for a
lighter, more comfortable outfit: a sleeveless tan shirt and loose
fitting trousers tied at the waist.

Nadua found these fabrics were easier to
sleep in. Once under her edisdon fur blanket, she would be
adequately warm through the night. She kept her boots and gloves
on, however, not only for added warmth, but just in case she needed
to quickly dress. The rebel menace was still looming.

The location of camp wasn’t what she had
hoped. The cliffs were still half a day’s ride away and, in her
opinion, they were too close to the mountains—where the Caves of
Kayata held any number of threats. But the storm that was now but a
tickle on the wind had beaten them to a stop. Even the Cyrellians
had been shivering. The men had put up their tents in record
time.

Staring into the burning embers, as she
often did when she had much to think about, Nadua brushed a thick
strand of hair behind one pointed ear.

Why had the demon hesitated to kill her? By
the speed with which he took down those rebels, he’d had plenty of
time to do it.

The fire popped and tiny sparks floated up
before quickly burning out.

She’d inspected the cage lock after the
fight. It had been cracked, almost clean through. She supposed it
could have been faulty. Age combined with constant chill could
cause almost any material to break down.

Or was it the demon’s strength that had
broken the lock? He was obviously much more powerful than she
initially thought.

Nadua had questioned Tamir about this, but
he assured her that the demon was secure. Besides, if he could have
escaped so easily, why would he not have done so sooner?

His actions today had been ruthless,
fortifying all the horrible stories she’d been told by those who
had witnessed the brutality of his kind long ago. Never would she
forget the savagery in his face as he dispatched those rebels
without mercy. But when he turned toward her afterward, she
recalled that his expression had changed. Became softer. As if he
truly had been fighting for her.

Maybe he wasn’t as horrible as the old
stories suggested. But then she remembered his fierce anger from
the night before and shivered.

It was too confusing. Nadua decided the
demon needed further study before she let Renzo have him.

The tent rustled and someone pushed their
way inside. Odd, usually they called for permission before
entering.

Nadua rose to greet whoever it was and
gasped at the sight of the demon dragging...a body? Spikes of fear
shot through her.

When the demon caught sight of her, he
froze, looking almost as shocked as she was.

* * *

Marik couldn’t believe the sight before him.
A description of Nadua hadn’t been provided in the book, but he
knew instantly that it was her. Her oddly shaped ears were
prominent, the most obvious trait. Her eyes...how could he have not
seen it before? They were nearly identical in color to Anya’s.

Marik couldn’t keep his gaze from followed
the line of her body. Glossy red hair fell softly over sleek bare
shoulders, leading his eyes to her breasts, rising and falling with
every breath.

Her body—Marik had to stifle a hungry
groan—was full of luscious curves that made his lower regions take
immediate notice.

A creature from his deepest fantasies stood
before him.

She recovered from the shock faster than he
did and bent down, reaching for something. Whatever she was going
for wouldn’t be good for him—her eyes said as much. He was to her
in a second, yanking her away from the dagger she’d pulled on him
the other night.

Tricky
female
.

As soon as he had his arms around her, she
began to thrash. Marik covered her mouth as she prepared for a
scream that he was sure would have alerted the entire camp. Still,
she hollered through his palm while continuing to struggle. The
sweet scent of her filled his nose and a wave of desire swept
through him, so strong he nearly doubled over. And the way she was
moving her body against his wasn’t helping.

Simultaneously kicking her legs and
screeching like a wild woman, she smashed her elbow into his
stomach, which helped to dampen his baser instincts. It also helped
him to focus on the seriousness of the situation.

Nadua was the queen to be murdered! How the
hell was that possible?

He no longer needed her help. She needed
his. Only she didn’t know it, and the way she was trying to scratch
his eyes out told him she was in no mood to listen to anything he
had to say at the moment. If he didn’t get them both away from
here, the Cyrellians were going to kill him. And then her.

Marik pulled her out of the tent and tore
for woods. The mountain in the distance might provide a place to
hide until he could get her calm enough to explain everything. If
only she wasn’t fighting so ferociously.

A voice shouted from behind. They must have
found the guard knocked out and Nadua’s tent empty.

Marik hurried his steps, slowing every so
often to regain his grip on his captive, who was doing everything
in her power to get away from him.

“
Calm yourself, woman,
you’ll thank me later.”

She made a doubtful noise and squirmed
harder.

More voices rose from behind, but Marik was
already deep into the trees. He got the sense that these Cyrellians
didn’t have the kind of night vision he did. Nadua’s however, might
be a little better, because she was continually trying to drive him
into a tree, with surprising accuracy.

A sharp pain shot through his finger and he
pulled it away from her mouth with a curse.

The wench bit me!

“
I’m here! I’m here!” she
screamed.

Silencing her once more with his hand over
her mouth, Marik paid more attention to where her teeth were
headed. Unfortunately, her outburst was successful in alerting her
guards of their location and the voices began to grow louder.

At the same time, Nadua was doing too a good
a job of slowing him down with the combination of her thrashing
legs, whipping body, and trying to find the soft spot of his nose
with the back of her head. If she had been captured by anyone other
than him, she would have freed herself by now.

Finally, they reached the base of the
mountain and he began dragging Nadua up the rocky incline. She
managed another bite, but he swallowed the pain.

There was a cave about twenty feet up.
Hopefully it would be large enough to hide them.

When the wench bit him yet again, he
contemplated knocking her unconscious.

“
Damn it,
woman!”

The voices from behind seemed to be moving
off into another direction, growing distant. Nadua must have
realized it too because she began to whimper as her struggles grew
weaker, her breath labored.

At the entrance to the cave, Nadua gave one
last desperate burst of energy, flailing and bucking her body.
Marik held tight, waiting for her fatigue to kick in. When it did,
he moved them deeper inside.

After a few minutes, the darkness almost
became too much for him, but his eyes adjusted and he could still
see well enough to push them forward. There was a maze like quality
to the cavern, it broke into many chambers.

Marik used his sense of smell to decipher
the best direction, one where the air flowed free and wouldn’t turn
stale or poisoned. Nadua had gone limp, and she was shaking
uncontrollably.

Finally, they were far enough into the cave
that he didn’t think her voice would carry to the entrance. He
removed his hand from her mouth.

Cyrellian insults flew from her like water
down a slope. Marik understood a few words and had to laugh when
she called him an edisdon dicksucker.

“
Calm yourself. I’m not
going to hurt you.”

“
No, you’re g-going to
k-kill me!” Her shivering was growing worse. “I’m f-freezing. I
n-need f-f-fire!”

“
I can’t make a fire just
yet. They may see the light and find us.”

* * *

Gods, if only!

“
We need to keep hidden or
they’ll kill us both,” came his voice from somewhere in the sea of
black. “I’m not going to let that happen. You’re safe with me.” He
sounded like he was trying to reassure her.

The demon is psychotic!

Nadua tried to tell him so, but the piercing
cold leached away her voice. Wrapping her arms around herself
wasn’t enough to keep the last of her warmth from slipping away.
Her teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. She knew she wouldn’t
last much longer.

The demon cursed under his breath.

She heard a rustling and then something came
around her—the demon’s coat, which she had so graciously allowed
him to keep. It was huge on her, falling past her knees. The thing
might help a little, but it was in no way equal to her usual
garment.

“
Stay here,” he said. “I’ll
be right back.”

As if she had a fucking choice! She couldn’t
see two inches in front of her face. They were deep in the Caves of
Kayata, where no light was allowed.

“
D-Demon?”

Apparently he was already gone. The only
sound left was her own shallow breath and the chatter of her teeth.
Who knows if he would even return for her?

Suddenly, there was another noise.
Footsteps? Was she imagining it?