“And you have no idea what that disruption was?” I persisted. “Was it something she did? Or was it Szerain?” I knew I poked at a tender spot, yet my lingering anger about the incident in the main foyer urged me on. “Did you train her? Was she prepared to do this gate? Mzatal said she wasn’t much of a summoner, so why was she doing something like this in the first place?”
Rhyzkahl let out a shuddering breath. “Mzatal released her from training.” He lifted the cover back over the portrait, then turned to face me. “Szerain and I trained her. She was well enough prepared for her part in the ritual.” He paused, anger flashing briefly over his face. “Szerain failed in his support.”
My eyes narrowed. “What was her part in the ritual?”
“Simply to open the gateway,” he said. “Nothing more. Szerain had all other aspects.” His right hand clenched into a fist and a muscle leaped in his jaw. “He proceeded without my leave.”
I snorted. “Seems a lot of lords do things without your leave.” My cheek still ached with the evidence of that.
“Amkir,” he murmured, as if only now remembering that I’d been struck. He came closer and laid a hand on my cheek. “They do not do so without reprisal.”
“Oh, please,” I said, scowling. “What, you’ll give him a slap on the wrist? He was a complete dick to me, for no reason! He’d have seriously hurt me if you hadn’t grabbed his damn arm in time. Then what? ‘Oh, Amkir, you naughty boy. You broke my toy!’”
But Rhyzkahl shook his head. “It is not a ‘slap on the wrist,’ as you phrase it. He suffers my retribution even now.”
“And what would that be?” I asked, dubious.
“It involves power flows and is not a matter for humans…even you, dear one. He suffers.” Anger stirred behind his eyes, and I found myself believing that Rhyzkahl truly had smacked Lord Asshole down.
Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair. “Why did he do that to me?” I asked, still utterly baffled. “I mean…it was like he hated me from first sight. Did I do something?”
Rhyzkahl dropped his hand from my cheek then crouched and ran it over my thigh, easing the sting from the lashes. “Amkir needs no reason,” he said, straightening again. “He can most assuredly be harsh with humans.”
“Then why did you leave me alone with him?” I asked, annoyed again. “He was hostile from the start, even while you were still there.”
“He has been long from humans and overstepped bounds he would never have touched in the past. I misjudged his response.” Regret colored his voice. “He will not err thus again, nor will I.”
I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “I need to know I’m safe here,” I said. “That’s the whole damn reason I came here when I got away from Mzatal.”
He caught my face between his hands. “You have nothing to fear now from these visiting lords,” he said. “I have seen to it.”
“All right,” I sighed, then put my arms around him. “I’m trusting you on this.”
He tipped my head up and kissed me, a slow and tender show of reassurance that quickly deepened. Whatever the hell kind of relationship Rhyzkahl and I had, even if everything else was weird as shit, this part was pretty damn decent.
He slid his hands beneath my shirt to stroke my back, then broke the kiss to nuzzle my neck. “I once told you I wished to fuck you in every room of my palace,” he said, lips moving against my skin. “This one is as yet un-christened.”
I laughed low in my throat, already fired by his words. “So you did.” I gave a mock sigh. “But I don’t know if sex in a library can be all that exciting.”
He pulled my shirt down over one shoulder, lowered his head and bit gently. “Then you do not know much and require tutelage.”
I dropped my head back. “And I suppose you think you can teach me?” I breathed.
His hand slid up to fondle my breast. He bit again, harder this time, then moved to catch my earlobe in his teeth. “Most definitely,” he whispered.
And he did.
Chapter 16
In addition to the library, we ended up christening two more rooms—the tree house of the arboretum and a storage room full of furniture—finally ending up back in my rooms where I eventually fell asleep curled up in his arms, exhausted and sated.
I didn’t expect Rhyzkahl to still be there in the morning, and, of course, he wasn’t. At first I thought I’d slept a lot later than I’d intended because of the amount of light in the room. It wasn’t until I got up and actually looked out the window that I realized why it was so bright.
I let out a squeal. “It snowed!” Not only had it snowed, it still snowed, flakes drifting down, adding to the thick layer already on the ground and coating rocks and trees and buildings alike. All but the grove, which shimmered green and purple, untouched by the white blanket.
I tore through the available clothing and found a variety of Earth-type cold-weather garb. Boots, hat, gloves, and scarf went over a ridiculous number of layers. I looked like a total dork, but I didn’t care.
I hurried down the stairs and to the broad doors that led to the large back lawn. Kehlirik was crouched inside the doors with a book in his hand, and I smiled in relief at seeing him again. My smile spread to a grin when I saw that he was reading A Game of Thrones. Oh, I was so getting him hooked on television as soon as I got back home.
“It snowed!” I announced, then dashed outside with an unabashed whoop of delight.
Kehlirik set the book down and followed me out as I tromped through what was easily eight inches of snow. He peered at me curiously as I launched into my first-ever attempt to make a snowman.
“Yes, it has snowed,” he said. “This brings strong reaction in you?”
“We don’t get snow where I live,” I told him as I made a sloppy attempt to roll snow into a large ball for the base of my snowman. “I mean, not more than a scuzzy inch or two.”
The demon snorted, watching me with open curiosity. “There are other demons who will clear the snow for you.”
“I don’t want them to clear it for me,” I said, slightly breathless. “I want to make snowmen and snow angels and all the stuff I’ve heard you can do in snow.” I want to have fun, I added silently as I rolled up a second, smaller ball and placed it atop the first. I want to forget I’m trapped here and forget how much I miss Jill and Ryan and Tessa and Zack.
Kehlirik made a huffing sound and poked a claw at my partial snowman. I gave him a sidelong glance as I rolled up the third ball and stuck it on top of the others. “Y’all have fun and play sometimes, right?” I knew the demons seemed to have any number of games, but I had no idea how spontaneous they were, if at all.
“Yes, we play games.”
I scanned the area for sticks or rocks or anything to decorate the snowman, but whoever had the job of cleaning up the lawn was apparently pretty damn meticulous. Giving up on the snow sculpture for now, I crouched and packed together a snowball.
“Do y’all ever do snowball fights?” I asked, eyeing him with a sly grin.
He spread his wings and dropped into a menacing crouch, low growl throbbing in his throat. I laughed and let fly with the snowball at him, but he ducked it with ease. In the next instant he took flight, letting out a trumpeting bellow.
“Hey, no fair!” I shouted, laughing as I hurriedly made more snowballs and threw them at the airborne reyza.
I yelped as a snowball smacked me in the back of the head. I whirled to see a faas ducking behind a pillar.
Apparently Kehlirik’s bellow had been a “game on!” signal to the rest of the demons. What followed next was the most insanely chaotic and glorious snowball fight in existence. Within less than a minute, the area filled with dozens of demons of damn near every variety. Chinese-dragon-faced kehza took to the air with reyza and zhurn in dogfights to rival anything out of World War I. On the ground, a cluster of luhrek—demons resembling a cross between a dog and a goat, with the hindquarters of a lion—whipped together a fort constructed of snow and arcane scaffolding, and proceeded to lob volleys at the airborne contingent. Graa darted with lightning speed between air and ground, weaving shields of potency that formed a sting-delivering obstacle course for all players, while young savik methodically dismantled and reformed said shields and slung snowballs at the faas who darted from pillar to pillar.