Greydusk made a soft sound. I heard approval in it. Strength surged through me, surety. I knew how to talk to demons. I knew how to push them and twist them, manipulate and force them to my desires. It wasn’t something I had ever learned, but I knew it, like the curve of my own cheek or how to breathe as I slept.
Shit. I really was the Binder. I had the old king’s magick, along with my mother’s. What that meant for the future, I couldn’t guess. I could only steer with one unshakable goal in mind.
Save Shannon.
Or die trying.
“You are owed recompense,” Sybella muttered. “You may ask one boon before our true negotiations begin.”
The knowledge came to me in a barely heard whisper, like there was someone else in my head. She wants your loyalty to the Luren, above all others, and your promise to raise them high when you break the castes wide open. Alarmed, I searched for the knowing presence, but it fell quiet, leaving me with a pervasive sense of dread. Well, creepy whispers aside, I understood what Sybella wanted. And she wasn’t getting it. I just had to buy some time.
“You will grant me one week’s grace, as the time runs in this realm, to see the sights in the city and take Xibalba’s measure. Greydusk will stand as my guard and guide. You will not interfere by means direct or indirect with him or me, which includes those under my protection.” With a gesture, I indicated Chance. “That also extends to my dog, of course, whose health and awareness you will restore at once.”
“Well said,” Greydusk whispered with approval.
By his tone, I gathered I had made the agreement sufficiently watertight. I didn’t need to keep her from scheming. I just needed this week before I made a true enemy of her. Right now, I thought she respected me. She’d expected a weaker opponent, more susceptible to her particular allure.
“It shall be done. Gilder and Lash stand witness.” Sybella whispered then in demontongue, a spell that made my skin try to crawl off my bones.
“What—”
But before I could complete the question, Greydusk reassured me in a low voice. “She’s removing the ensnarement spell on your mammal.”
“Why did she mess with him anyway?”
“She may have thought you intended to use the creature as food and believed she was assisting you in rendering it docile.”
“Oh.” Gross. “I guess the Luren don’t meet too many humans.”
“Not unless they’re summoned in sex rituals and those lucky few tend not to return to Sheol.”
“Our business is tabled…for the nonce.” Sybella’s voice indicated she’d like to give me to her minions and let them do terrible, degrading things to me.
“See you next week.”
Somehow I made it out of the room without revealing how much the encounter had taken out of me. Once the doors shut behind me, I stumbled, reached for the wall, but Chance was there. He was shaky, but together we kept our footing.
His expression was all confusion and raw wonder. “I’ve never seen you like that. You were…magnificent.”
I leveled a shaky gaze on him. “If you say ‘regal,’ I’ll punch you in the junk.”
“You’re sexy when you threaten me. But how did you keep them from putting you on your ass?”
Holding up my wrist, I said, “Tia’s charm.”
“Handy. I should’ve had her make me one.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think she can just whip them out. It’s powerful.”
Greydusk emitted a sigh. “Can we move along, please?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “Your first mission is to locate me some decent street clothes. I assume people don’t dress like this all the time?”
The Imaron looked amused. “Indeed, no. The lesser castes would be put to death for donning royal silks…and many of my brethren don’t wear clothing at all.” It gestured at its own form.
“Right. Well.” This time I led the way. I’d marked the route he took, and the floor tiles made it easy to remember.
Greydusk excused itself to carry out my request. And I decided I could get used to this. When I stepped back into our chambers, Butch greeted me with a noisy yap and a lot of prancing in circles and whining. Then he got a good look at me and cocked his head, ears flapping. He growled.
“I know,” I said. “I’m working on it.”
Muttering about ungrateful dogs, I hunted up Chance’s backpack and set out Butch’s collapsible food and water dishes, then filled them. He set to with a vengeance. I guessed being enscorcelled made animals work up quite an appetite. When I glanced up from tending the Chihuahua, Chance was eyeing me with barely concealed amusement, tiger’s eyes gleaming like topaz.
“What?” Then I realized.
Yeah, it was pretty incongruous for me to be doing chores dressed like this. I tugged at the gown that fit me like a second skin and was relieved when it gave. Otherwise, I didn’t see how I could get it off. Under Chance’s intent gaze, I stretched the fabric and then pulled until it slithered over my head in a sinuous motion that seemed…sentient to my jangled nerves. That left me standing in the demon-corset.
“Could you get my laces?”
He came toward me, dreamy-eyed with lust, with the easy grace that once rendered me boneless with desire. It still did, I realized, as he turned me. His fingers lingered on my skin as he loosened, loosened, until my br**sts fell free in front. Then he cupped my waist between his palms, stroking the indent of skin, slowly gliding down to the flare of my hips.
I listed back toward him and his arms went around me. He canted forward, his pelvis nudging the curve of my back, and grazed my bare shoulder with lips that left a trail of fire tingling in their wake. It was exquisite. Unforgettable. He’d always been a slow, careful lover, but there was a leashed wildness in him too, a side he’d never shown me. Now he did, his hands hard, as he pushed against me from behind. It wouldn’t take much for him to bend me over.
He wanted to. I felt it in every particle of his body, and I wanted it too.
“You’ve been teasing me for weeks,” he growled into my neck. “And seeing you that way…radiating power. Christ, Corine.”
I puffed out a shuddering breath. Maybe it didn’t have to be sex. Relief would clear both our heads. I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t demon magick sparking our libidos, but I’d always desired him, and it would be cruel to leave him hanging again. I’d teased him in Kilmer, and if he’d told me the truth, he hadn’t been with anyone else since I left him. For me, there had been a few men in Mexico…and Kel, of course.
“We’ll have to be quick,” I whispered.
He never had been, and at first I hadn’t minded his measured lovemaking, the way he applied himself to my pleasure like a science. At first I’d screamed and thrashed and assumed he went as wild as I did. Only he didn’t. He never had. He watched and pushed me and he let go when he was damn well good and ready.
Not this time.
“I don’t think I could be anything else.”
I spun in his arms, half na**d, every inch a seductress in these exotic rooms. I felt disconnected from my customary fears, as if the power that turned him on still streamed in my veins. I was Circe and Aphrodite and my will was absolute. He proved just how eager he was when I unbuttoned the flat of his trousers. His shaft leapt into my hands, and I took him in my hands with bold demand, tugging, stroking. Arching, he watched my face, his gaze laser-focused on my mouth. I rose up to kiss him, hotly, endlessly. Chance gasped into my mouth and his heart slammed against mine, racing in time to his thrusts. There was no careful judgment now. His harsh breaths melted into groans, and then he peaked in my hands. Lost to everything but me. He gave himself completely, and I went wild with the surrender.
We fell together onto the bed, and he wrapped his arms around me. Fast and frantic, I came over him and worked to a quick finish against his trembling thigh. He petted my back with clumsy hands, his eyes dazed. His lashes fluttered toward his cheeks. Once, twice. I’d never seen him so utterly undone.
This Chance could destroy me. And he was irresistible.
By the time Greydusk came back, we had tidied up, Butch was done eating and taking his stroll around the patio, and I was decently covered in Chance’s shirt.
The demon paused on the threshold, sniffed, and sighed. “It reeks of copulation in here.”
Fire washed my cheeks. “Hi to you too.”
“I suppose one must be thankful you have one another with whom to sate these urges. It would be disastrous if you succumbed to a Luren. Gilder or Lash, for instance.”
“Disastrous for whom?”
“Everyone. If you take any native as your lover, you make him—or her—your consort here in Sheol, should you ascend.”
“Anyone who tries to touch her comes through me,” Chance bit out. “I need better weapons, demon.”
His eyes were scary-fierce, primal in intensity; I’d seen the last of my hypercontrolled, calculating ex. That genie was out of the bottle for good. I suspected he’d always had these tendencies, carefully leashed, but something in Sheol—demon magick maybe—seemed to draw it out of him. Neither of us might be entirely ourselves, but I didn’t regret what we’d done. Not when I felt so good.
Greydusk studied us for a moment longer and then shook its head. “I was afraid of this.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You’ve chosen him as your consort. That will affect his thinking. He can’t help but respond to the ancient magick.”
“Is there anything I can do to stop it?” I asked.
“No. Once chosen, the consort belongs to the queen until death.”
“But I’m not the queen.”
“Near enough.” Greydusk thrust a package toward me. “Clothing for both of you. I’ll wait in the next room.” It turned with precision for such long limbs and went out.
“Are you all right?”