Immortal Rider

On her shoulder blade, the set of scales that had been tattooed there when she was only a few hours old began to wobble as the right side, the evil side, and the leftt nand the side, the one that measured the good half of her, warred.

When she was a few feet away, she smiled, gave him a come-on-big-boy look, and sauntered up the steps of her beach house. Of her two homes, this was the public one she used for parties that were frequented by humans—both locals and celebrities who flew in just for her big bashes. But this get-together was a small one, attended by only a couple dozen ter’taceo. She’d intentionally invited the demons, who could easily pass as humans, in order to lure this particular male. He was cautious, overly paranoid, and if she’d invited him directly, he wouldn’t have come.

Instead, she’d chosen her guests with surgical precision—friends of his, demons with particular tastes who virtually guaranteed that he’d be lured by the promise of lurid, grotesque fun as night settled in.

He knew exactly who she was, but no way could he know what she wanted from him. No way could he know that Thanatos’s intel had fingered him as one of Arik’s torturers.

She slipped inside the house and mounted the stairs to the bedroom, smiling when she heard the door close softly behind her. At the top of the stairs, she untied her top and tossed it over her shoulder, leaving a seductive trail for him to follow.

Inside the bedroom, she circled a wicker chair angled so she could look out at the rolling surf and waited for “Rhys” to enter. His demon name, Xenycothylestiranzacish, was… yeah. She used his human name.

He filled the doorway, sexual menace rushing at her like a deadly rogue wave. In the human world, he was a corporate raider of some kind. In the demon world, he was a master of torture, a hobby that leaked into his relationships with women, and Limos wondered how many missing prostitutes could be traced to him.

“What’s your game, Horseman?” His deep, English-accented voice was the cherry on his sexy sundae, and she remembered how, centuries ago, she’d had a major crush on him. But he’d known she was betrothed to the Dark Lord, and he wasn’t stupid enough to go near her. She wasn’t that stupid either, and she never had been that stupid.

Until Arik.

Damned human. How dare he tempt her like that? How dare he kiss her and make her want him?

The kiss had doomed them both.

Now she was in a race against time to rescue him before he sealed the fate she’d been running from for thousands of years—marriage.

There was also that pesky Seal-breaking fate she had to deal with, but right now, she had to concentrate on the most immediate problem, which was finding Arik.

“I have no game,” she purred, running a purple-lacquered nail over the back of the chair. “I’m sure you’ve heard that I succumbed to lust and gave my affections to a human.”

Rhys’s expression gave nothing away. “I heard.”

“Well, that means that until he says my name while in the throes of agony, I can enjoy mtup can enyself.”

God, she hoped Arik could continue to withstand whatever torture the demons holding him were putting him through. A wash of admiration warmed her from the inside, because she didn’t know if she could survive a month of torture, and Arik was a fragile human. She’d always sensed strength in him—it had been one of the things that had drawn her to him, besides his sense of humor—but she would never have guessed at the depth of that strength.

“And by enjoy, you mean…” Rhys trailed off as he prowled toward her, his bare chest, well-oiled and glistening, drawing her gaze.

Most females would lift their skirts right now. Limos had other plans, and Bones, her hell stallion who was currently decorating her right forearm as a tattoo-like glyph, writhed in anticipation.

“I mean that once Arik breaks, I’m going to be stuck bedding the same demon until the end of time. So playtime is now or never.”

“Somehow,” Rhys said casually, “I can’t imagine that the Dark Lord will appreciate you coming to him less than intact.”

She blinked innocently. “Intact? Of course I’m going to go to him a virgin.” An ocean-scented breeze wafted through the room, caressing her skin, and she joined in, stroking her fingers over her nipple. “But I can do everything else. Don’t you think he’d reward you well if I came to him knowing how to use my mouth?”

She nearly gagged at that thought, and not just because the idea of sucking the devil’s dick horrified her. She’d never wanted to do that to any male. Women who claimed to like it had to be lying.

Rhys stepped closer. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Oh, come on,” she cajoled. “It’s just a little touching.” Before he could protest, she gripped him by the shoulders, spun him, and planted him in the chair. Next, she straddled him so she was on his lap, facing him, her palms splayed on his smooth chest. “Touch me.”

For a long, breathless moment, she thought he was going to dump her on her ass. His hands came down on her thighs and squeezed hard enough that a human woman would screech from the pain. But Limos wasn’t human, and she didn’t screech.

“If we do this,” he said in a deadly, cold voice, “you do what I say. My rules. Understood?”

She made her eyes go all wide and frightened. “Y-yes.” She even threw in a token tremble of her bottom lip for good measure. Meryl Streep, you ain’t got nothing on me.

Rhys’s smile was pure malevolence, something she’d been raised to appreciate during the twenty-eight years she’d spent in Sheoul, growing up under the thumb of a twisted, evil demon mother. If Limos were still that person, she’d be panting right now.

“Good.” He took her right hand in his palm and trailed a finger over the black lines that formed the horse tattoo on her forearm. She could feel his touch in the corresponding parts of her body, and she hated it. Bones hated it too, had never like to be touched by anyone other t snyone othan her, and he came to life on her skin, snapping his sharp teeth viciously. Rhys jerked his hand away, but not quickly enough. A tiny bead of blood formed on the tip of his finger. “Bastard.”

“He’s a little temperamental.” That was an understatement. Of all her siblings’ mounts, Bones was the most… unique.

Limos’s first stallion, a normal warhorse like her brothers’, had been killed, and her fiancé had sent Bones as a gift she couldn’t refuse. Now she was stuck with the carnivorous hell stallion, and though he’d grown on her, she didn’t call him out unless absolutely necessary. He was too hard to control, and he hated everyone including, sometimes, Limos. Well, he loved Ares’s wife, Cara, but only because she’d saved his life.

Rhys’s hands slid under her skirt, and both revulsion and anticipation rippled through her. She’d fantasized about Arik’s hands doing the same thing. Her fantasies, as she pleasured herself nightly in her bed, all involved Arik.

They also involved the absence of her chastity belt—which was why her thoughts were pure fantasy.

Only one person could remove the polished pearl chain that circled her h*ps and fell between her legs, connected in the front and the back to the hip loop. In truth, it was beautiful, a priceless piece of jewelry that would make her feel sexy if not for its nasty little secret.

Rhys’s hands drifted higher, and she feigned a moan as she arched so her br**sts touched his chest and she could covertly slip her right hand around the back of the chair to the dagger she’d taped there.

“You are an eager little slut, aren’t you?” he murmured.

“I have a lot to learn before I take my place at my husband’s side.” She nipped his earlobe, wishing it were Arik’s. “Maybe you have friends who could join us?”

“When I’m through with you, perhaps.”

Disgusting hellswine. “Hurry.”

His hand came down hard on her ass. “What did I say? My rules.”

Jesus, he hit hard. Her butt cheek stung like a son of a bitch, and didn’t it figure that somehow, he’d missed touching her chastity pearls. “Sorry.”

“Not yet, but you will be.”

What a douche. She held her breath, fighting a shudder at his touch. She’d rather a snake crawled up her skirt.

He massaged her butt, his fingers biting deep into her flesh. She gripped the hilt of the dagger. The sound of his quickening breaths filled the room as he slid his palms around, his thumbs dipping between her thighs. There was a pause, as though he was trying to decide if he really wanted to go there.

Please, please go there. She rocked her hips, hoping he’d take it as a sign of desperate horniness rather than impatience.

“Whore,” he whispered.

Dickweed, she thought.

He moved to cup her intimately, and finally, her chastity protection kicked in. Each of the pearls turned into a razor-sharp little spur, stabbing into her skin and most sensitive flesh. Excruciating agony ripped through her, but by some miracle, she didn’t make a sound. Didn’t need to. Rhys’s screams would have drowned her out anyway.

Blood gushed—hers, but mostly his, as three of his fingers fell, severed, to the floor. Awesome. His species of demon was one that was damned hard to injure, weakening only if they lost a body part.

In a pained rush, she wrenched him to the floor, where she put the tip of her dagger under his eye. “Okay, a**hole. Tell me what I want to know, or you lose more than your fingers.”

“Bitch.” Rage blackened his voice. “You cocksucking cum-slut!”

Limos shoved the blade into his eye. She had no patience when her privates hurt so bad. The spurs around her h*ps and between her legs had morphed back into pearls, but even as quickly as she regenerated, the injuries hadn’t healed yet.

The demon screamed again, blood and ocular fluids squirting from his ruined socket. She shifted the knife to his other eye.

“My rules,” she said, mocking him. “And my rules start with not calling me a cocksucking cum-slut or anything else disgusting and disrespectful.” She squeezed her thighs, crushing his ribs. She’d done that to Arik once. Poor guy. “Feel me?”