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Demon's King (High Demon #3) - Page 9/42

"You've thought of everything," I muttered sarcastically.

"That's how I stay alive," Teeg countered. "Take off your clothes, Reah. Let's get started."

Undressing in subfreezing temperatures was certainly topping my list of things I never wanted to do again. I think my skin was blue in the time it took to remove my top and pants and I was moving as quickly as I could. "Hurry, baby," Teeg urged. He didn't need to, I was already hurrying as fast as possible. I had to step outside the cave to turn, otherwise I would have destroyed it when the change came. At least the cold no longer hurt me when I changed, rising to eighteen hands tall in the bright morning sunlight upon a snow covered mountain.

"Kneel down!" Teeg was shouting as I attempted to shade my eyes against the glare. I realized eventually that he was shouting at me—the wind was telling me things as I listened to it. I had to huddle in melting snow while Teeg tied the blindfold around my eyes. It was just as he'd said—I could see through the loose weave of the cloth and it did make the brightness bearable. Lifting Teeg afterward, we strode down the mountain as snow sizzled and melted around each step I took.

"Hurry, baby." I was shivering again while trying to dress damp skin in tight leather. It wasn't going very well. We stood on what looked to be a back porch area behind the compound—a concrete deck with a short concrete wall around it and a low, overhanging ceiling. I'd had to stop outside it and turn, forcing Teeg to haul me over a snow bank and onto the concrete floor. Teeg had to help dress me; my fingers were freezing after five ticks.

Our target didn't expect an attack from this side of the house, and certainly not in the form it came. Who knew if they even suspected High Demons were real? Jes had thought they were myth. He'd asked me many questions while he'd worked at getting my strength and agility back. Some I'd answered, some I hadn't.

Teeg had an electronic card in his pocket. All he had to do was swipe it around the locked door leading onto the concrete patio and there was a beep before the door opened for us. I knew to be quiet as we walked inside—Teeg held a ranos pistol in his hand as we cautiously made our way through a storage room. He walked ahead of me—barely—as we made our way through the entire compound, room by room, building by building. The compound consisted of a five-sided collection of buildings with a central roof covering all of it. The roof was constructed of reinforced steel and built to withstand the snow that might fall upon it. A slow-melter worked to keep the snow at a manageable level and also provided water for the compound—we found the control box for it and the rest of the compound inside one room in the second building. The entire place was empty. Teeg holstered his pistol.

"Now what?" I asked.

"We make ourselves at home until they come back." Teeg was grinning. I just shook my head at him—it sounded like colossal foolishness to me.

"And what do you intend to do if we can't handle what shows up?" I had my hands placed strategically on my hips.

"I have this," he pulled the transmitter that made my skipping and mindspeech useless from an inside jacket pocket.

"How many pockets does that thing have?" I reached a hand toward him.

"Nope, you don't get to explore right now," he grinned, pulling the transmitter beyond my reach. "Let's see what they have to eat in the kitchen."

The kitchen and six bedrooms were all inside the same building—the fourth one we'd explored. All were connected through a tunnel that ran underneath. At least the inside of the compound was warm enough. Teeg said the snow outside helped insulate everything. Sunlight collector poles painted white covered the top of the compound, too. We hadn't seen those until we'd gotten very close. Everything was solar-powered. I found food in a freezer and prepared a meal. I was tiring, though, and cleaning up the kitchen afterward took the last of my strength.

"Lie down, baby." Teeg led me to a comfortable sofa in the media room. Our rogue warlocks hadn't denied themselves any comforts.

"This was Zellar's hideout, wasn't it?" I asked as I curled up on the sofa.

"We think so, yes," Teeg nodded. "Sleep for a while, Reah. I'll wake you if our residents show up." Teeg leaned in to kiss my forehead as he knelt next to the sofa. He was rubbing my belly gently as I fell asleep.

"Erland." Wylend looked up from the message he'd received to watch his best and strongest ally's face as he handed the news to him.

"My King?" Erland decided to go formal.

"Erland, I want you to look at this message I received. I can't trace it to the source—it has been blocked. Tell me what you think." Erland accepted the comp-vid from the King of Karathia.

King Wylend, greetings, the message began. I am contacting you to arrange a meeting. As you know, I am forming an alliance, which many are calling the Campiaan Alliance. It is my hope that you will consider joining. I think many things can be arranged to our mutual benefit. I am attempting to make this alliance a mirror of the Reth Alliance, but as you likely know, it will be a long road. So far, I am making slow but steady progress. Things are gradually coming in line with the placement of laws and such. I will contact you again soon to learn your feelings on this. I know you have been doing research already. The message was signed Teeg San Gerxon.

"So he knows we've been snooping," Erland handed the comp-vid back to Wylend.

"I would know," Wylend agreed. "Is there anything new on Reah or Gavril?"

"Nothing since we got word that two bodies were hauled away from that hotel—one in pieces, the other still intact. The word I got from the ASD source was that the second was still breathing when they hauled it out—it was held inside a stasis gurney."

"Then Reah may still live." Wylend set the comp-vid aside.

"Gardevik seems to think his son would know if she'd died—his Thifilathi would be grieving if she had. So far, Tory's Thifilathi is fine."

"Then I might wish for such a barometer," Wylend sighed. "Did I make a mistake waiting? Erland, tell me I was not the greatest fool you've ever seen."

"My King, you are not a fool. Reah herself saw the sense in this, I think. How many potential captors might have gone looking for her before this, if they learned you were mated? This was wisest, Wylend. She has nothing to give them now. Not where you're concerned."

"What are they doing to her—if they have her?" Wylend's eyes watered.

"My King, we will find her and she will be whole." Erland went to hold Wylend's head against his chest.

"Mom, what did Kifirin say to you? About Gavril?" Tory couldn't stand it any longer—he had to know. He'd been hit twice—first with Gavril's disappearance and then with Reah's. His Thifilathi knew Reah still lived, but in his humanoid form, Tory fretted and worried.

Lissa lifted her head from signing her name on the comp-vid with a stylus. She looked haggard—Tory saw the dark smudges beneath her eyes.

"He says we'll see Gavril again one day, but he will not be the same." His mother's words stunned Tory; he sat down heavily on one of the chairs Lissa kept at the front of her desk.

"How? How will he not be the same? Are they hurting him? What are they doing to him?"

"Baby, I don't know," Lissa let her head drop onto her desk. "Kifirin won't tell me and my superiors tell me I can't interfere." She raised her eyes to look at Tory's face. "We have to wait. That's what Graegar says."

"You talked to Graegar?" Tory breathed a sigh. Graegar was one of the five Larentii Wise Ones. They held their doings secret most of the time. Their abilities, too, were a closely guarded secret by all the Larentii race. All Tory had was whispered conjecture and speculation.

"I talked to Graegar and Garegar." Garegar was Graegar's son and also a Wise One. Seldom did two appear at once in the same place and they were always accompanied by their protectors. "Garegar agreed with his father." It was Lissa's turn to sigh deeply. "We wait. This has hurt Gavin more than I can say."

"Mom, he never expected to have a child. Now, somebody has taken the one he did get. With you."

"Yes. Connegar and Reemagar are watching both of us. If they didn't place the healing sleep, we wouldn't sleep at all, I don't think."

"See, if you dovetail the joints, they fit together better and you don't need nails." Gavril watched as Dormas finished cutting the pieces of a cabinet drawer. The one who'd taken him had set him down in Dormas' large shop. Dormas was now the one who held him captive. Gavril had been warned; that Reah could die if he didn't do as he was told. Therefore, he stayed with Dormas and learned carpentry.

Dormas had every tool imaginable, modern and powered, but he was teaching Gavril how to do everything by hand first. That's how Dormas had learned. He only worked at night—he owned a very large construction firm on Mharbool. Mharbool had a thriving vampire population—they worked at night, allowing the humanoids to work the days. Dormas was five thousand turns a vampire and had learned all his skills by working with his hands. He still enjoyed his work, though he currently built high rises rather than simple huts.

At first, Gavril had found it difficult to stay awake at night—he'd been used to doing everything during the day and sleeping at night. Now he was getting better at staying awake until dawn. It was still close, though, and Gavril was blinking sleepily as Dormas snapped the two dovetailed pieces together.

"Time for bed," Dormas smiled at Gavril, tousling his hair. "Come, we'll get you a light snack before we sleep." Gavril followed Dormas out of the workshop.

Chapter 4

Our unknowing hosts didn't arrive the first day. Or the second. Teeg had succumbed to sleep the first night after making sure the transmitter was safely tucked inside his jacket and delivering a threat against Gavril. I wasn't about to do anything that might jeopardize Chash. Teeg knew it. He couldn't have devised a more foolproof plan. I let him sleep until he woke, puttering around the place and eventually preparing a simple meal plus dessert—our targets didn't have much in the way of cooking skills and relied on prepackaged food.



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