Home > Kiss of a Demon King (Immortals After Dark #7)(52)

Kiss of a Demon King (Immortals After Dark #7)(52)
Author: Kresley Cole

She rounded on them. "Why did you attack us? Have you been sent for me?" Maybe Omort had posted a

bounty?

"Our land. You trespassed," one said, as he began ransacking Rydstrom's bag, stealing goods, taking his sword. He was the largest, which meant he would likely be the leader. "You to slave' market."

Slave market? They didn't know she was one of the Sorceri-she wasn't demonstrating powers, nor was she

dressed like one. She had no jewelry, and the blue tas-sels on her belt didn't necessarily look like gold.

Do I tell them I'm a princess of Omort's realm or the queen of the demon king?

She had better do something fast. The Teegloths weren't just slave traders. They were trophy collectors, with the body parts of their enemies affixed to their crude leather vests. Fingers and scalps adorned them. One had only ears on his vest, and he was staring at hers with intent in his beady eyes.

"I'm sister to Omort of Rothkalina. By law, you must ransom me."

"Ransom-sell as slave. Naught different," he said, his speech pattern primitive.

She'd heard about the slave markets, the ones Omort had allowed to proliferate, for a percentage of the gold. "That was King Rydstrom you just attacked, and I'm his wife. He will find me. And when he feasts on your throats, I will pat him on the head."

Another asked, "Ties up wife?"

"It's a game we play. I couldn't expect something like you to understand it."

He slapped her.

She staggered, her mouth filling with blood. When she spat at him, he struck her twice as hard, until her vision wavered and she reeled on her feet. He hauled her up, tossing her over his shoulder. Dawn was just breaking as the pack set out....

Hours later, Sabine still had seen no sign of Ryd­strom-or of any other beings who might aid her.

Why wasn't she succumbing to that cold fury she knew so well? Where was the nausea, the urgency? When she recognized what was happening, she was dis­gusted with herself.

I expect Rydstrom to save me.

With her bound hands, she reached for the back of her belt, plucking a gold tassel, dropping it for him to follow. She hoped he appreciated that she was shedding gold for him. But the do-gooder probably wouldn't! He'd tossed away her headdress like an apple core!

By dusk, she was convinced that every ounce of blood in her body resided in her head. She'd also accepted the fact that Rydstrom might not be coming for her. His injuries had been severe-before he'd fallen.

Now, fear threatened to overwhelm her. And that fear wasn't only for herself.

In the dying sunlight, sand gave way to rock as they neared another mountain. Ah, gods, they took her inside it, down into a pitch-black mine.

For hours, she could see nothing, could only hear their breathing and grunting words as they continued deep within.

At last, the Teegloth dropped her on her ass in the dark, and she heard them scuttling about around her.

They started a fire, and as soon she could see once more, she almost wished she couldn't. While they tore into their dinner-bones and bloody meat-they eyed her with renewed interest.

She surveyed the area, searching for any means to escape. They were in a central terminus of mine shafts, an area where three corridors ended. This mine looked

just like what she would imagine, with beam ceiling supports and track laid out.

But there were no leftover picks or shovels for her to run her bindings against. And Rydstrom's sword was out of reach, lying among their belongings haphazardly pilled at the edge of the camp.

Once they'd finished eating, the leader wasted no time, dragging her off to the side, then yanking her beneath him. She couldn't fight back-already bound for them.

More powerless than I've been since I was a girl.

A ropy line of saliva hung from the corner of his deformed mouth, inching toward her face as he ripped her tunic to shreds....

29

R

ydstrom came to in a rush, grappling to free himself from the rocks that had fallen over him. Once loose, he lumbered to his feet, every movement grueling.

Staggering with dizziness from his head wound, he scented the night air for her while assessing the damage to his body: severed muscles in one leg, broken ribs and collarbone. One arm fractured. Skull possibly cracked-He caught a hint of her scent to the south. Like a shot he sprinted in that direction, favoring his good leg, ignoring the pain as he began the most impor­tant pursuit of his life. For miles Rydstrom charged ever closer to her.

He hadn't known if the Teegloths had been sent by Omort to return her, hadn't known if she would will­ingly go with them. But the way she'd screamed his name when he'd fallen . ..

And then he'd begun finding gold tassels each time the Teegloths crossed water, or traveled in creek beds.

When Rydstrom realized she wanted to be found by him, his excitement was quickly extinguished by dread. If the Teegloths hadn't been sent to find her as a bounty, then they would feel free to use her.

They were taking her toward a chain of mountains, likely to the mine shafts within. Their habitat.

He wiped blood and sweat from his eyes, somehow increasing his speed. Sheer will forced his muscles to obey, and soon he'd reached an entrance to the mines. He charged inside, descending into the core of the mountain.

Suddenly, her shriek echoed in the dark. His heart dropped even as he bolted in the direction of the sound....

With a furious scream, Sabine head-butted the Tee-gloth. He slapped her, leaving her gasping on her side, her eyes watering.

And that was when she caught a glimpse of Rydstrom stealing out from the shadows. He'd lived!

As he stalked closer, his horns flared with aggres­sion, his muscles seeming to grow before her very eyes. At the edge of the firelight, he silently collected his sword.

When the leader pawed her, rolling her over once more, she hissed, "Teegloth, you're going to pose a ques­tion, and get beheaded before it's answered."

He roared, "What you talk of?"

She only smiled as Rydstrom swung his sword.

"You took the wrong demon's wife," she told the sev­ered head as she clambered away from its corpse.

With the death of their leader, the others howled with a furor. Rydstrom put himself between her and the pack. "Stay back!"

When they attacked, sweeping those hammers at him, he used his sword and claws against them. One tried to take him from behind, but he threw his head back, poisoning it with his horns.

He took hits that would have felled trees, but still he remained standing. Even injured, he was too strong for them to defeat. She watched in awe as the ruthless demon fought, lit by fire and cloaked in shadows from the mine.

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