"It's just called Erol's. Now if anything goes south inside, just stay behind me. Promise me."
He was overprotective to a fault. "I can't promise you that, or there's going to be clay all over your kitchen floor."
"Our kitchen floor."
"Demon, if anything goes south in there, I won't need you to take care of me. I'll need you to help me take care of us."
That seemed to throw him. She turned and sauntered onto the pier, leaving him with a bemused expression on his face. The big demon male was having to learn some new tricks with her.
When she began tip-toeing so her stiletto boot heels wouldn't get stuck between the planks, he asked, "Why don't you wear flats and just make them look like boots?"
"Because wearing these makes me feel sexy."
"Would being carried by your man make you feel sexy now?"
"I can manage, King Charming," she said. "So, if it's really packed inside, will you see anyone you know? Perhaps one of the thousands of demonesses you've bed­ded, like Durinda," she said, teasing him.
When he fell silent, she faced him. "I was just joking- I know you weren't with her. Wait, why do you look so guilty?" Why would Rydstrom appear guilty at the mention of the female- Suddenly she felt like she couldn't get enough air. "You didn't... in the camp ... you weren't with her ..."
"Gods, no! But I told you I hadn't slept with her. And, apparently, a millennium ago or so, I did."
Relief sailed through her, but then she said, "You told me you hadn't."
Chapter 19
He ran his hand over the back of his neck. "I'd . . . forgotten."
"Did she have to remind you?" When he reluctantly nodded, she burst out laughing.
"It's not funny," he said gruffly. "It was embarrassing as hell," he added, looking like he'd begun fighting a grin.
Still laughing, she said, "I would have given gold to hear that conversation!"
"I'd thought you'd be angry."
After another chuckle, she said, "Not at funny things. Hey, I have an idea! Maybe we should start a database and enter all the names of females you tagged, so you can keep up with them-"
"You think so, smart ass?" He swooped her up in his arms. "All I care about is the last entry." He charged down the pier, with her laughing the whole way.
At the entrance, he let her slide down his body. As they walked in, Rydstrom had his hand on her hip and his shoulders back, looking arrogant and every inch the king. She loved it.
The interior was dimly lit and crowded. In the cor­ner, an old-fashioned juke box played twangy songs. On the back wall, skulls framed a mirror, their eye sockets laced with Christmas tree lights.
The place had its charm.
They passed the bar where a pair of startlingly good-looking twins sat. She suspected the two males were Lykae, and was proven right when they spoke with a thick Scottish accent.
"Damnation, Rydstrom, where'd you get her?" one said as he shot to his feet off a stool. "And she's dressed up like a sorceress of yore." He whistled low.
The brother added, "Does the lass have a sister?"
Rydstrom acknowledged them with a cool nod, then said, "Sabine, this is Uilleam and Munro, Lykae soldiers."
"I do have a sister," Sabine eagerly said. "You'd love her, and she would certainly adore you-"
But Rydstrom steered her away before she could fin­ish, heading toward the back to the only empty table. Raucous females sat nearby, playing dice. All looked intoxicated on drink or intoxispells.
When Rydstrom muttered, "More witches," Sabine put out a light probe for powers. Again, finding noth­ing she'd get out of bed for. But one of the females with them had pointed ears and glowing skin.
"And Regin the Radiant," he said, shaking his head. "She's often Nix's partner in crime."
Once they reached the table, and he'd pulled out her chair for her, he was clearly reluctant to leave her to go get drinks. "Go, Rydstrom, I'll be fine."
He leaned down to say at her ear, "Just don't tell any­one your full name or your sorceress title, and we ought to be fine."
When Rydstrom hesitantly left her, Sabine glared at all the females sighing over him as he passed, though he seemed oblivious to their notice.
At the bar, he turned back to her, checking on her, those green eyes watchful.
Taking one on the chin for Team Evil? Try scoring one for Team Sabine.
He was so incredibly masculine. A dynamo in bed, on the couch, and in the shallow end of the pool. And he was good to her.
She'd been good to him for the most part, striving to be so for him. But old habits died hard. Whenever Rydstrom had unlocked his armory to view that sword, Sabine had made herself invisible.
And now she had the combination.. ..
This could get dicey. He'd brought Sabine here because she was going to have to get used to being in this soci­ety sooner or later. And the Lorekind were going to have to get used to seeing her.
But he also had another reason for coming here. Erol's was an excellent place to get information. And Rydstrom wanted Lothaire's whereabouts.
When Rydstrom had admitted to Sabine the terms of the deal struck with the vampire, she'd been under­standably worried. Lothaire could ask him for any one thing. At any time. "What if he wants your firstborn? We've got to kill him!"
"Our firstborn. And I'll take care of it"
At the bar, Rydstrom asked a nearby storm demon and then the barkeep for information, but the mere mention of the Enemy of Old had them shaking their heads.
As he waited for drinks, Rydstrom gazed back at Sabine. She was sitting with an innate grace, casually surveying the room with those amber eyes.
So bloody beautiful. And of course he wasn't the only one who thought so. Males were craning their heads to get a glimpse of her. Just as he'd predicted, Rydstrom's horns were flaring. He cast killing looks at some of the bastards, letting them know that the female was his.
But was she? According to Sabine, he had only two more days with her-then they would reconvene. He hadn't pressed her about it, because he'd simply assumed keeping her here was a function of making her want to stay with him. He was doing everything he could think of, and still he felt her slipping away. .. .
Just as he accepted her wine and his brew from the barkeep, Regin yelled across the tavern, "Yo, demon, who's the tartling?"
Rydstrom exhaled, turning to stride back to the table. He saw that some of the witches in the back were from the pool party. They must have recognized Sabine, because they were urgently trying to shut Regin up.