Devil's Punch

They escorted me through a dark and exotic garden and down the gilded hallways to the receiving room, where the Knight of the Dohan awaited. He was a slight male with a goatee, long nails, and bloodred eyes. He dressed for effect, all in black. And when he saw me, he fell to his knees. The rest followed suit, including the six who had escorted me from the front gate. I let the silence build. Left them on their knees. Let them remember the taste of terror thickening their tongues. Let them remember what it meant to displease me.



Then, when the fear had reached paralyzing levels, I said coolly, “Rise.”



The Dohan failed to do so with their customary grace, limbs stiff from kneeling on the hard stone floor. A smile curled my lips, and one took a step back. I lifted a brow. The knight cleared his throat and then gestured for the room to be vacated. It was reassuring to learn they had not lost all wisdom, or the lessons I’d taught in ages past.



“My queen,” Azon whispered. “So the stories are true. You are risen.”



I inclined my head. “Long have I been bound to the Solomon line, and at last it comes full circle. I return. Choose your course, Knight of the Dohan caste. You may follow me…and receive my favor. Or I will crush you here and now.”



It was not a choice. I never gave true choices. That would offer my subjects the erroneous idea that they had any control over their futile, wretched lives. And in Sheol, I held all the power.



Behind me, the Imaron and my consort kept silent. Their behavior pleased me. If either one dared put himself forward, I’d have executed him on the spot. They had gotten away with such behavior in private because I needed them for the time being. In public, my response to presumption never varied.



“There is only one answer,” Azon said reverently. “You own us, my queen. Simply tell me what you would have and I shall see it done.”



The human girl scrabbled weakly, but I pressed her to silence. She’d had some ridiculous plan of offering her blood to gain their cooperation. I would never stoop to bribery. My will was sufficient to get what I wanted. It always had been. Like a worm, she squirmed at the back of my mind, too weak to wrest control from me.



“You will tell me everything about your business with the Hazo.”



The Demon Queen



It was a beautifully illuminating discussion. Afterward, I demanded accommodations suitable to my station, and I loved watching them scramble to please me. The Dohan had a style all their own, pretentious but elegant. The reason I had never favored them, however, came clear to me as I passed through a corridor swarming with quasits. The Drinkers were all too fond of the little pests.



“I suspect we have an answer to the question as to who was spying on us,” the Imaron said to my consort.



The idea of anyone daring to invade my privacy made me want to have everyone in the compound whipped. I was appeased when they put me in a grand suite, the nicest the complex had to offer. As ever, Greydusk guarded the doors while I explored the bedchamber.



Shortly after I retired to organize my schemes, my quasit turned into a small mammal. I stared at it, wondering what I was doing with such a creature. I approached with interest, but it snarled and tried to bite my fingers. I drew my hand back to kill it, darklight coiling in my palm, but my consort drew my attention with a soft clearing of his throat.



“Is there some way I can serve you, Highness?” The proper subservience in his tone soothed me.



I skimmed him from head to toe. He was…beautiful. I understood why I kept him close; even the Luren lacked such pure physical perfection. And that made me…curious. He wasn’t fully human. Of that I was sure. I flicked my vision over to the astral and surveyed him. His corona possessed the most intriguing edge.



A blink restored my normal sight, and I stalked toward him. To his credit, he stood his ground, head bowed. He didn’t make eye contact, which would’ve enraged me. He was everything I wanted in a male. I would keep this one…forever.



“Are you mine?” I asked, low, knowing the answer already.



“Completely.” His voice thrummed with conviction.



And oh, I liked it.



“So I may do anything I wish with you?”



“Anything.”



I didn’t need his invitation, of course. He belonged to me, like everything in Sheol, but there was more pleasure in a willing slave. I withdrew my athame and took his hand. He shuddered at my touch because I put a thread of power in it, pulled it through him in a flicker of the darkest pleasure. Soon enough he’d beg for this, unable to perform with anyone else. I knew how to enthrall my lovers. With a faint smile, I pricked the tip of his finger. Not as much pain as he expected, I think, but I drew blood. His gasp aroused me. His blood welled like a crimson jewel and I took his fingertip between my lips, tasting him. Learning his secrets.



The revelation was stunning. Delightful. This one was worthy of me.



I sucked a little longer than I had to, after I possessed the knowledge I sought. And he reacted with all of the alacrity I could wish. His lean, lovely body tensed and I scented the heat of his arousal. He wanted to be taken in every manner I could devise.



When I freed his hand from my lips, he reclaimed it slowly. Reluctantly.



“You don’t know what you are,” I said softly. “Do you?”



Mute, dazed with desire, he shook his head.



“What will you give me if I tell you?”



I knew his response before he spoke it. But it pleased me nonetheless.



“Anything,” he whispered.



“Come, sit with me.”



Other lovers would know to be wary of gentleness. But he was so deliciously brand-new that he came without hesitation. It almost made me decide not to break him. We sat on the large bed with him at my feet. He obviously wanted to touch me, but he wouldn’t dare without an invitation. I could keep him ready and aching for hours. My power washed over him, and he groaned, his eyes going hazy.



“Please,” he whispered.



“Then let me tell you a story. There was a girl from Korea who spent a year studying in Japan. She was special, this girl. She had great healing gifts. There, she met a young man. He seemed to be a simple fisherman. They courted. And eventually, beneath the cherry blossoms, they made a child.”



“Me?” The question meant he wasn’t totally lost to the urges coursing through his veins.



“Yes, my darling. Are you ready to find out who your father is?”



“Please,” he said again.



“In Japan, they know him as the Laughing God. Ebisu. The god of fishermen and…luck.”



He seemed starstruck by the revelation. “What does that mean?”



“You’re a demigod. Not immortal precisely, but divine blood, even that of a small god, is enough to guarantee half a millennium. Longer here, of course, as time runs differently.” I smiled at him. “That makes me happy for obvious reasons.”



“My mom never told me.”



Bored with the topic, I hit him with another trill of power, skimming his whole body in the addictive snare. I didn’t want to talk about his intriguing heritage. Divine blood or not, he existed to please me. His breath came faster, his hands curling into fists. I realized then that he was trying to resist. How…delightful.



“Disrobe,” I ordered.



He trembled when he stood, but I didn’t see the beauty of his naked form. Agony lashed through me. Curse this puny human shell. Darkness filled my head.



I had the mother of all hangovers.



But it seemed way wrong that I’d have gone on a bender while I was supposed to be finding a way to save Shannon. Sitting up, I glanced around, taking stock. The room was lush. Opulent. And I was sure I’d never been here before.



There was also a gaping hole in my memory. I cast back and found myself in the Klothod-driven carriage with Chance and Greydusk. Beyond that, nothing. Bile rose into my throat from my churning stomach. I forced my breath out of its panicked rhythm and sought something familiar in this strange chamber. It was reassuring to find Butch in the corner. And he wasn’t a quasit anymore. Even as a kid, I hadn’t drunk enough to have blackouts or lost time. So this was disturbing as hell.



The door opened, and I looked for a weapon. Nothing nearby, damn it. I relaxed when I spotted Chance. He canted his head, studying me.



“You’re…you.”



“Shit. It happened again?”



“Yeah,” he said softly.



“How long was I out?”



The days I’d bargained from Sybella kept vanishing, thanks to this bitch queen in my head. That might even be part of her plan. Each time she helped me, she also stole time. I hated her. If I could cut her out with a knife, I would. Unfortunately, that would result in a self-lobotomy. She was bonded to me in a way no surgery could remove, the ultimate conjoined twin.



“About eight hours, I think.”



A night’s sleep.



He went on. “The queen took over after we left Club Hell. She managed the meeting with the Dohan. Eventually you passed out. Greydusk has been making excuses as to why nobody can see you, hiding the fact that the queen is not herself.”



Fuck.



“I didn’t even know…” I dug my knuckles into my eyes, fighting the urge to cry.



How could I check her when I couldn’t even see her coming? Hopeless. I was never going to get Shannon out of here. Worse, Chance and I would be stuck. He didn’t love the demon queen, and he’d end up her slave.



He perched on the edge of the bed and reached for me. I resisted at first because I couldn’t doubt I was bad for him. But he persisted, and I was weak. I curled into his arms, rested my head on his chest.



“I can see it,” he said. “Now that I know what to look for. Your eyes change.”



“Change how?”



“They go black, like your pupils expand until there’s no more iris.”



“Freaky?”



“Fuck, yes.”



“I’m sorry about all of this,” I whispered. “I wish you hadn’t come.”



“You didn’t know what would happen when you came through the gate. And I’m not sorry at all. It’s kind of nice that you need me again.”



I choked out a laugh. “Even if it means I’m possessed?”



He offered a wry half smile. “It’s a…challenge. But at least I can tell how I should act, depending on your eyes. The queen likes the submissive stuff.”



My stomach knotted. If he told me I’d tied him up and whipped him and then fucked him with the queen driving, I might be sick. Not because that wouldn’t be okay under other circumstances, but the idea of my body being used without my consent? The churning started up again.



“Did we—”



“No.” He reassured me. “The royal aura she uses to scare the shit out of everyone takes a lot out of you.”



“So we’re inside the Dohan compound and they don’t know I’m not…her.”



That could pose complications. The Drinkers would know immediately that I was just a human, not their scary demon queen. Which meant we needed to sneak out, provided we’d learned what we came for. Otherwise they’d hold me hostage, like Sybella had intended, and I couldn’t count on them fucking with Butch again to give me some leverage. In those circumstances, I’d have to petition for her help, and the more I let her drive, the less chance she’d ever go away. With each possession, I felt as though I lost a little of myself, like I was more hers and less mine.