She'd been a virgin for Rydstrom. After all these years, she'd remained untouched.
What if I impregnated her? Rydstrom gazed up at the ceiling of the cell he had gotten to know too well. It was absolutely possible for her to have conceived.
Conceived my child. He found himself wanting it to be true-even as he knew the clock would begin tick-ing down on his life. If she was pregnant, they would have no more use for him. More than ever, he had to escape. Take my female, take my child, return for my kingdom. . . .
Rydstrom needed the sorceress here. He'd hurt her, and he wanted the chance to make it up to her. But he was uneasy over more than the pain he'd given her. Though he'd taken Sabine, she wasn't his wife, and he hadn't completely claimed her as his mate.
He needed to mark her to satisfy his demon instincts.
Rydstrom tensed when he heard loud footfalls sound­ing down the dungeon steps. Shortly after, three large males entered the cell, all clearly Inferi slaves. He recalled Sabine's fury-had she left orders for him to be beaten?
The largest one began unchaining Rydstrom. Which meant a chance to escape. He stilled in readiness. Three Inferi could never control a demon-
Again a powder stung his eyes. Gods damn them . . . Yet this time Rydstrom remained awake, seeing.
Only he couldn't move.
There was something in the men's eyes as they gazed at his prone body. Once Rydstrom recognized it, his heart went cold.
Lust.
When they strung him up in the shower and stripped his pants from him, Rydstrom couldn't move a muscle to fight them. As they washed his deadened body, he was impotent to do anything but stare at the ceiling as a scalding hatred blazed inside him.
She'd done this to him. Sabine had ordered this, knowing how much he would despise it.
Once he escaped, he'd humiliate her in front of a thousand demons, he'd give her to them to use. As soon as the thought arose, rage erupted in him, possession burning hot. . . .
He lost himself in that rage, going awash in it, again vowing for the crudest revenge. An exact reprisal tc her, for every wrong she'd dealt him.
I won't rest until I've made her pay.
20
"Didn't get a chance to call off the, uh, bathing?" Lanthe said telepathically, able to sip from her goblet and communicate at the same time.
"Alas, no," Sabine said, modeling an outfit in front of her oversize mirror, readying for another night with the demon. "And it went. . . badly."
"Tell me."
"The Inferi's powder wore off, and Rydstrom attacked with his poisonous horns."
The trio hadn't intended to do more than bathe him, but he'd gone insane, fighting them like a beast.
"He temporarily paralyzed one of my poor Inferi before they contained him," Sabine said, selecting another top from the collection recently forged for her. "I mean, I knew he wouldn't like being touched by three males-that's why I ordered it. But to react like that? The thought of being bathed by strange women merely sounds titillating to me:
"And you're going to him just three nights later?"
"I don't have a choice." Unfortunately, she wasn't preg­nant. The Hag could divine such things within days, so this morning, Sabine had descended into the bowels of the castle to consult the old crone. Rumor had it that she'd once been a beautiful elven maiden who'd met with some kind of curse.
Sabine couldn't see it.
The Hag's basement laboratory was squalid and dis­turbing with all the butchered animals-Sabine had had to bathe twice to get the odor of fried batwings off her body.
The woman had taken her blood and told her the news-a blow to Sabine because she was nearing the end of her fertile cycle.
Out of curiosity-and for no other reason-Sabine had asked the woman if Rydstrom would have been poi­soned by the morsus if he'd bitten her neck. The Hag had glared at her with aged opaque eyes. "Not unless you were in the full blown throes of the poison. So there's no excuse for you to deny the demon male some­thing he needs to do. No excuse other than your own selfishness," she'd said, demonstrating her customary insolence. "You take his seed and give nothing...."
Now Sabine told Lanthe, "Tonight it has to be business as usual." Hettiah wouldn't be out of commission much longer. "I have to conceive so that Hettiah doesn't bear my husband's child."
Lanthe winced. "That sounds really messed up."
"Because it is! Over my dead body will that be happen-ing. And you know I don't say that lightly."
"Have you thought any more about Groot's sword?"
Once Sabine had told her about it, the two of them had been antsy, wanting to plot, to act, to do something.
Outcomes and possibilities. Actions and reactions. Although plots usually came to her easily, Sabine was having to work for this one.
Plus, the memory of Omort's wrath on that Vampire army weighed heavily on them as well.
"I'm staying the course with the demon." Sabine had ultimately decided the prospect of the sword was too up in the air to even consider a plan of action.
"I thought you'd sworn off sex."
"I'm going to give it a second go," Sabine said as she donned a top that had metal cups shaped like actual paws, with claws flared. Knowing the demon would like it, she laced up the leather ties on the sides.
"You're softening toward Rydstrom, aren't you? Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing for him?"
"Lanthe, you know perfectly well that I could look you in the eyes and lie," she said. "But I won't. Honestly, I'm drawn to him."
Sabine's head had been filled with thoughts of him. She craved his warmth against her body, his scent sur­rounding her. She'd lain in bed, staring at the ceiling as sea breezes rushed in, wondering what it would be like with him here in her bed. Could he touch her slowly at
first?
"I keep thinking of him as my husband. It's silly that a few words should affect me like that, but the idea makes me possessive of him."
"You don't seem too broken up about having to bed him
again."
"Upon further reflection, I've realized it wasn't all bad." The time leading up to the pain had been incredible. She wanted more of that excitement, was aching for it. She was a born hedonist, a Sorceri who craved her plea­sures. The demon could give them to her.
Last night, she'd woken to a chimera of Rydstrom slipping into bed with her, that intent look in his eyes and handcuffs dangling from his fist....
"The demon Cadeon is still going strong?" Lanthe asked.
Sabine gave herself an inward shake. "From what I understand, he had four checkpoints to get through, and he and the Vessel have already completed three." She settled a new headdress over her plaits, clasping the back of it to her collar. "But even if he gets the sword, he'll never get close enough to use it."