How to Love a Blue Demon (31 page)

She sighed irritably, and the demon closest to her backed away from her husband’s desk
. He’d been hovering where she sat looking over some papers that required the royal seal, and he opened his mouth to speak further, but shut up at her sharp look. He’d been explaining, for the fourth time, what she was looking at and what the King had always done in similar situations.

She knew e
xactly what the King would do. They seemed to have forgotten she could read her mate’s mind, and that he had never withheld anything from her. They also seemed to be forgetting that the minutia of running a kingdom was all familiar to her because at one time or another over the centuries she’d been right by the King’s side while he took care of business.

Whenever anything new happened, he was the first one to come and tell her.
Their lives were so well ordered and peaceful, anomalies were one of their favorite sources of entertainment.

She scrawled the intricate seal that marked the royal pen and gestured for the next paper.

The demon began another long winded series of explanations, which she ignored, quickly scanning the document and waving for the next one. The demon continued talking. The Queen wondered if he talked this much when her husband was sitting behind this desk.

She rubbed her chest. There was a funny ache there that had been growing in strength for the past hour. It was completely unfamiliar, and she wondered if she needed to visit the healer.

Perfect,
she thought. Now was not the time to come down with an ailment. Carlow was growing weaker all the time, and –

             
“The King!”

The demon was so startled by her outburst he stopped talking.

“What of the King, my Queen? Is there some problem?”

“No, no, I just, have, to, ummm. I have to go and tell him somet
hing. Let’s adjourn until tomorrow, yes?”

The demon bowed, and swept the papers away to be locked
in the safe until they could be pushed through the proper administrative channels to the next rung of the demonarchy ladder.

As soon as the servant’
s blue back hit the door, the Queen poofed herself into the throne room. She breathed a deep sigh of relief to see the King sitting quietly in his chair. But her heart rate began to accelerate when she scented blood in the air.

She flew to his side, and immediately noticed his hand clutching his side
; a nearly foot long gash had laid open his flesh and was bleeding fitfully.

“It’s nothing, my dear.”

She scowled. His weak, thready voice said differently.

“How did it happen?” she asked, snapping in
a bowl of water, a flesh sewing kit and a cup of heavily sweetened tea. “Drink this.”

Carlow drank, though his large hand shook a bit around the tea cup.

“A skirmish.”

“And why are you fighting battles on the front lines?”

Carlow smiled. His Queen was trying to be calm, but he heard the worry and anger she tried to hide as clearly as he could see her beautiful face. “I was not on the front lines, my dear. Technically we are not at war, remember? Sad as may be, I was ambushed in secret.”

The breath whistled through his teeth as she cleaned the wound and waved a healing crystal in front of it to numb the area before she began to stitch.

She crooned, making the clicking sounds she’d made when their pups were small and hurt themselves. She was pleased to see they had the same soporific affect on the King.

“You promised me many moons ago that you would only wage war on our enemies in your mind.
You assured me that you would have no problem leaving the battle to our soldiers in the Guard.”

Carlow’s golden eyes met hers, his pain mirrored in the sudden lines between her brows.

“I know, my dear. But things have changed in the centuries since I made you that promise. I did not want to break it, but I had no choice. The consequences are too dear.”

She said nothing as she set the final stitch, clean
ed the wound a final time and fixed a soft, skin-like bandage over it. She dropped to her knees, one of the King’s large hands caressing her dark hair as she kissed the wound. He shivered as tingling energy spread from her lips into his body. It would heal in minutes, such was their connection.

She looked up at him, her large
lavender eyes shiny and deep in the throne room’s muted light. “You cannot continue to fight this battle alone, Carlow.”

Carlow. Not the King or my King. Hmmm. She meant business.

“Of course I can. It’s my duty, and it’s my privilege.”

“And it is my duty as Queen to ensure your health and well being, and I say this needs to stop and stop now.”

“And what would you have me do, my dear? Bring in our sons, expose them to danger? Perhaps our daughters would be suitable for the stealth missions I undertake trying to uncover information to keep our people safe? Tell me, Queen. What would you suggest?”

“Don’t you take that tone with me, your
Highness. You know perfectly well that I –”

“What’s going on here?”

They both turned in surprise. It was Cinque. His scent was familiar and nonthreatening, which had enabled him to sneak up on them.

“I smelled blood as I was walking by. Father, are you injured?”

Carlow sighed. There was no way to hide his condition from his oldest son. He was a healer.

“Yes, my son. But your mother had patched me up. I’ll be right as rain soon.” He smiled encouragingly, but Cinque only scowled as he strode closer.

Gently he brushed his mother aside. He could find no fault with her work – it was she who had started him on the road to becoming one of the most sought after healers on the star – but Carlow could clearly see him examining the wound, speculating on its cause.

“Who did this to you?” The low words were any angry hiss through gritted teeth.

“It was an accident,” Carlow deflected, not answering the question.

“I don’t believe you.”

The King raised one finely arched black brow.

His son’
s head bowed gently in apology, but he continued undeterred. “Please, my King. Father, tell me. You know I am discreet. I am your son!”

The King sighed, shooting t
he Queen a look as she smiled, pleased to be getting her way despite his best intentions.

“Is this why you’ve been spending so much time in here lately?” Cinque asked
her, obviously putting two and two together. “Does this have anything to do with your sudden interest in handling affairs of state?”

The Queen nodded.
“I’ve been easing your father’s burden as best I can. He’s been,” she paused. “Busy of late.”

“Busy,” Cinque repeated. “What does that mean? Exactly what is going on here? Does this have anything to do with Eyoen’s absence?”

The King sighed. He never thought he’d rue the day he’d produced such intelligent children.

“I don’t want to discuss this.”

“For star’s sake why?”

The King’s large fist came down hard enough on the arm of his throne to make both of his family members jump.

“Because it’s not time!” He roared.

“When will it be?” Cinque shot back, unafraid. He’d been the cause of too many of his father’s outbursts to let one frighten him now.

Carlow sighed irritably and stretched. The Queen murmured in distress, fearful he might pull his healing wound apart.

“It heals, my dear,” he assured her.

“The skin is already knitting,” Cinque confirmed, distracted. “Mother did a good job. But you still have not said who would dare do this?”

His confusion was genuine and understandabl
e. To harm the King was treason, punishable by instant death. No one in all the centuries that Carlow had ruled had even made an attempt on his life. But that wound –

“Someone was trying to kill you,” Cinque realized, his eyes widening in understanding. “What is going on?” He demanded.

The King sighed. He was tired. There was no point trying to hide anything. Cinque would tell his brothers what was happening no matter what, and he couldn’t blame him. There was nothing so important as the preservation of demon life, and at the top of that list logically was one’s family, whether or not your sire was the King was irrelevant.

Carlow gestured for his son to sit in his chair. He did sit, but he chose to sit at his father’s feet, a move that both surprised and comforted the King.

“Talk,” Cinque ordered, sounding so much like the King, the Queen’s eyes welled up. “What have you been hiding from me, father?”

******

“You don’t need all that luggage.”

“It’s not clothes.”

“Then what is it?”

“Gifts for you
r family.”

Eyoen hugged her so tight she thumped him on the back.

“Lay off, will you? I’m not trying to show up on another planet in traction,” she pretend groused. She was so nervous she was trembling, and Eyoen loved her even more for her nervousness. “Are you sure it’s not going to hurt?”

“No,
my Cass. It will feel like rushing wind from a car window. Then you’ll open your eyes, perhaps have a spot of vertigo, and we’ll be there. Are you ready to go? You’ve been packing for quite some time. It’s never taken you this long before.” They’d been on several trips together since he shed Lee’s body. She never took more than 20 minutes to pack her suitcase. This time she’d been at it for hours.

“I guess so. Am I dressed ok
ay? I know I have to wear the local garb, but I still want to be sure I make the right impression on your family when I arrive. I think I’m dressed too casually.”

He’d told her to wear her usual,
which was dark blue jeans and some variation of tank top. This one was canary yellow silk with a pocket over her left breast. Out of respect for the local culture, her jeans were a soft, wide legged denim that just skimmed her hips and butt. They were the only non-tight jeans she owned, and she’d bought them special for this trip. She wore huge gold and diamond hoop earrings, and she’d had her hair done and a mani pedi. All activities she usually reserved for award show season. “It’s not like it’s a car trip, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered.

Holding back his smile, Eyoen asked patiently,
“What do you want to wear?”

“Nothing, nothing. This is fine, I guess.”

“If you want to wear nothing, I guarantee my brothers will love you.”

Cass laughed as he’d intended. “That kind of adoration I don’t need.
I’m walking into the unknown as it is. The last thing I need is for your male siblings to get any funny ideas. Ya’ll aren’t Mormons or anything are you?”

“Mormons?” Rierdane asked.

“Mormons?” Eyoen asked.

Cass nodded. “It’s a religion where men are allowed more than one wife.”

Eyoen laughed. “No, my dear. We keep harems, but once one marries, the wife decides whether or not the husband can keep any of his houris. My mother made my father disperse his. I plan to do the same.”

“You wanna keep other women in a harem after we’re married?”

“Tread carefully, sire,” Rierdane warned. “This could be a trick question.”

“No,” Eyoen said simply. “I can’t imagine wanting that kind of intimacy with anyone ot
her than you. My father is the same. He has been faithful to my mother for more than four centuries.”

Cass laid a hand on his cheek. “Well, if you’re sure no one’s go
nna hurt me where we’re going –”

“No one,” he vowed. “
I will protect you with my life, but the danger is very low. And should any occur, I will simply send you back to Earth until I can come to get you.”

“And if you’re sure
time will not pass as quickly, and I won’t miss much here –”

“You will be back in
plenty of time for your trip to Japan.”

Cass sucked in a deep shaky breath. “Does it take a lot of resources to get from here to there?”

Eyoen shrugged. “Not really. There’s no chance we could get stuck or anything, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

She grinned. “Okay. Fuck it.
I’m ready. Beam me up, Scotty.”

“Eyoen,” he scowled.

She rolled her eyes. “I know that, fool. It’s just an expression. Let’s go before I lose my nerve.”

Approximately a half minute later…

“Open your eyes, darling.”

“Are we there?”

“Yes. Take a look.”

“I’m scared to.”
She wobbled a bit, and he reached out to steady her, charmed when she grabbed onto his hands and wouldn’t let go.

Eyoen burst out laughing. “Are you going to spend the whole of your vis
it with your eyes closed then? It could make meeting my family a bit awkward.”

“No! But, this is a big deal for m
e. It’s been like a minute, I thought I’d have more time to, well. I don’t know. Is there anything really odd in front of me right now? I don’t wanna see anything too strange right away, you know? I don’t wanna freak out, and then meet your mother and be a sweaty, babbling, neurotic mess. Just turn me toward something not too outlandish. Ease me into this thing, okay?”