Bound To The Demon Read online

  He touched one horn and then flashed himself behind her.

  Before she could react, he had his arms around hers, pinning them to her sides. She fought like her life depended upon escaping him. No longer was she the least bit cooperative. Rathan just held her, whispering reassurances that her daughter was safe. Even with a Taniss.

  Whispering the oath to make certain that was so. “She’ll be safe, pet. Always. This, I vow to you.”

  Finally, when he sensed she was calming from exhaustion, he slipped the hand still coated with mesmus over her lips, then whispered the command to send her to sleep once again.

  “No!” She sent him a look of betrayal that went straight through his heart.

  He held her close until she went limp in his arms.

  She’d known exactly who Mickey’s sister was. Without him saying Mallory’s name. This female might have even been a part of the whole damned thing. This small Dardaptoan female was not escaping him. Not for a long, long while.

  But first, it was chilled in his little den; he must warm her up.

  With a breath, he had a smokeless fire burning nearby, both for warmth and light. He wanted to see this female now. See if he could determine the answers to some of his questions, some of her mysteries.

  Her hair was tangled, from their fighting and the feeding. He pushed it out of her eyes, tucked a strand behind her ear. He kissed that ear quickly; he just couldn’t help himself.

  She lay on her side, and he rolled her onto her back to study her. She was slim and delicate; she needed some extra flesh, especially around the ribs.

  He frowned. No Dardaptoan female should be so thin; it spoke of something he did not yet understand. Concern for the female flooded him. Unless she was one of the ones responsible for the abduction and deaths of those he loved.

  Then he would see her punished as harshly as he could.

  One of her hands was clenched in a fist, and he took her wrist gently. He uncurled her fingers, feeling the sharp contrast between her hand and his. She was a very soft creature. He trailed a finger over her palm, then up and down each of her fingers.

  It was then he found the first scar.

  At first, he did not believe what he was seeing.

  Demons scarred often. The wound marks were a matter of pride. Dardaptoans did not.

  A faint line about the width of his thumbnail encircled her entire wrist. He studied it for a moment, then grabbed her other hand. An identical mark was just visible.

  Rathan’s curse bounced off the stone walls around him.

  Someone had bound her hands—and suspended her body from something. For an immense about of time. Tied tightly enough to scar the skin of a Dardaptoan.

  Dardaptoans very rarely scarred, only if it was a grievous wound. As a healer, she should never have scarred at all.

  Unless the wounds had been near fatal.

  Rathan lit another torch, then instructed it to hover a foot above his head. He removed her tunic efficiently. Gone was the lust and hunger; in its place was a determination—to find the answers. He studied every inch of her front closely but found no more marks.

  He rolled her on her back. Horror filled him at what he found there.

  Someone had sliced her delicate skin in more than two dozen places. Most of the lines were a minimum of three inches in length. The worst started just below her shoulders and ran down her spine, ending above her tailbone.

  Why? What kind of bastard could do this to a female like this?

  This was torture. Pure, deliberate harm to a vulnerable female. That was the only explanation for how the wounds had scarred. He traced each line slowly, wanting to soothe the long ago hurts. If he found the monsters responsible for such abuse, he’d rip them into a thousand pieces without breaking a sweat.

  Incubi demons never stood for such abuse of females; where had her male kin been when she was being harmed? Someone should have protected her. Her mate, her brothers, her father or uncles. Someone out there should have protected her.

  They should have done better than this.

  It took him a moment to battle back the rage. He’d sworn to return her to her Kind, but after finding this, he wasn’t so certain he ever would.

  Someone had abused this female, and combined with the obvious blood starvation, he suspected it was still going on.

  She hadn’t mentioned a male searching for her. Had she had one, she would not have so readily brought forth her little bargain. Unless she had one and did not expect he would be looking for her yet. Perhaps he was neglectful as well as abusive.

  That did not explain her daughter.

  He touched one globe of the most feminine backside he’d ever seen, smoothing his fingers over the flesh. A blemish caught his eye, located on the bottom of her cheek. He leaned closer, then recoiled.

  Tattooed across her skin in green ink, more on the top of her leg than her backside, was Taniss Industries: Specimen # 211.

  Rathan’s curse echoed off the walls of the cave so harshly the female whimpered beneath his hands. He just scooped her up and cradled close, as he made her a vow.

  Whoever had hurt her like this would pay. No matter what he had to do to make that happen.

  8

  Rand Taniss carried the still struggling girl away from the car that had held her and her mother without making a sound. She yelled out again. Called for help.

  Called for her mother. Like a damned child.

  He smirked at that.

  The mother wasn’t about to escape from Rathan. Any more than this Dardaptoan woman was going to escape from him. Far from it.

  He smacked her soundly on her ass, resisting the urge to cup the flesh there. She was built…perfectly. Just perfect. Lust curled through him at that very thought. He growled, and tried to battle it away.

  “Be quiet. I am not the only one in these woods tonight. And the other wolves are far less civilized than I am. I’m not going to hurt you, if you cooperate.”

  He shifted her until he could carry her more easily. He was six foot five inches tall. This woman was three inches shy of six feet or so. Typical height for a woman of her Kind. She felt delicate in his arms.

  He could carry her all night, if he had to. And he would to accomplish his goal.

  “Please just let me go.”

  “I’m not letting you go until I get the answers I’m looking for.” He pulled her tighter against him as he started down a rocky ledge. She trembled.

  Rand buried his face in her hair and just breathed her in. It sank in quickly just why she smelled so good, so perfect, despite being one of those filthy Dardaptoans.

  This female was the mate he’d been destined to possess.

  Now, he had to decide what to do about it. “Just hold on. I’m not ever letting you go.”

  She gasped and trembled against him even more.

  He carried her to the cave he had already scouted out. The demon had taken the other female in the opposite direction, in the hopes that separating them would keep them from both being tracked—and would incentivize the women to answer their questions.

  His was crying in his arms, soft little gasps of fear and confusion. It stabbed him in his head. Struck his pride, more than anything.

  His mate was terrified right now.

  Jierra. His mate was named Jierra, and she was Dardaptoan. Damn it to their goddess and back. The last thing he wanted was a Dardaptoan female.

  Rand considered just biting her, removing all traces of Dardaptoan from his female completely. Just turn her into Lupoiux and take her away from Dardanos forever. Just take her and keep going, wandering the world with all the money he possessed giving him all that he wanted.

  Except for his sisters and cousins. Grief had him harshly ordering her to shut up.

  The Dardaptoans owed him for what they had done. His arms tightened on her. He carried her into the den he’d created, and dropped her to the floor more harshly than he’d intended.

  She sprawled on the bedrolls he’d spr
ead out earlier. Rand cranked the lamps and had them glowing before he took his first good look at this vampire he was destined to mate.

  Her hair was gold with red running throughout. Spun fire. Her eyes were amber, like most of her Kind. She was built like the rest of the females of her Kind, tall and thin. The white hoodie she wore wasn’t warm enough for the dropping temperature, not for a Dardaptoan female. Thin jeans hugged her legs. Most likely, she had had a coat in that car that had been left behind.

  He had dragged a Dardaptoan female through temperatures cold enough to kill her and hadn’t even cared. Rand winced at his unintentional cruelty.

  To his mate.

  She pulled her knees to her chest and just stared at him. “What are you going to do to me?”

  Amber eyes watched every move he made.

  His body tightened with anticipation of just what he would do to her. What he wanted to do to her. What the animal part of himself was demanding he do right now.

  He had thirty-two hours to mate with this female. He would only do so if the female was willing. How to get her to be willing was harder to figure out than he would have expected.

  He’d always imagined finding his mate—another Lupoiux—and both feeling the fever. Falling into bed together.

  Never had he imagined her.

  “I will not hurt you.”

  “Why did you take me from my mother? Is she ok?”

  “She will be. The demon—”

  “Demon? A demon has my mother? What Kind? He won’t feed from her, will he?”

  Rand had no doubt that was exactly what Rathan was doing. The demon was the Incubi king, after all. “The Incubi won’t do anything she doesn’t want him to do.”

  “He’ll seduce her!” She stood and tried to dart around him.

  Rand cursed and grabbed for her. He yanked her against his chest. She couldn’t be that stupid. If she got out there now, she’d freeze to death. Biting her might be his only option. “You’re not getting away from me, Jierra.”

  “You know my name?”

  “I know everything about you.” He didn’t. But he wanted to. He wanted his mate naked and in his bedroll. He stared down at her for a long moment.

  Her lower lip trembled. “Please let me go. I need to find her. Make sure she’s ok.”

  “You’re not going anywhere. Hold still, female.” Rand leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Lightly; just to taste, to comfort. Dardaptoan females liked to be cuddled and reassured. Especially by the males.

  He would give her what he could.

  When he pulled away, her eyes were wide and wet and one small feminine hand rose to her lips, a look of shocked wonder on her perfect face.

  “Rajni. It’s you. You’re him.”

  Anger rushed through him. He wasn’t her damned Rajni. Not by a long shot. He would never be anything Dardaptoan. He despised the bloodsuckers and had for nine years. But she was his mate, and he would have her tonight. “I’m not your damned Rajni, Jierra, but I’m going to have you—tonight.”

  He lifted her into his arms and lowered her down to the bedroll a few feet away. He would have his mate, tonight. Her hands rose, but she didn’t push him away. If she had, he would have stopped.

  Until she understood that if they didn’t mate tonight, they would never have a family of their own. He wanted his pups. She would want them, too.

  That was one thing the female Lupoiux and Dardaptoan females had in common. They always wanted babies.

  She pulled him closer. No doubt because she believed he was her Rajni. His lip pulled back in a snarl.

  He’d show her the differences between Dardaptoan and Lupoiux tonight.

  “Kiss me back, female. Kiss me back.”

  His mouth met hers. It took a moment, but her arms slipped around his neck, and she kissed him right back. Hesitantly, but then with more enthusiasm.

  Yes, he was going to have his mate tonight.

  Tomorrow would have to take care of itself.

  9

  Kindara woke, disoriented and naked. Her eyes popped open and immediately caught on the demon sitting three feet away from her, stirring a small pot over some sort of fire. At the smell coming from the pot, her stomach rumbled. Though she needed blood to survive, she only needed it once or twice a month. The rest of the time, Dardaptoans ate meals similar to humans, minus red meats and poultry. Fish and vegetables were preferred. Her mouth watered.

  And not just at the smell of the food. The demon was…perfection…of the male form.

  He still wasn’t dressed. He turned to her with a smile, yet the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. Memories of the moments before she’d slept crashed in on her.

  Jierra, in the hands of a Taniss. A vile, cruel monster.

  Kindara sat, dislodging the natural linen-type blanket that now covered her. It surprised her—her hands weren’t bound. She would have expected to be bound. Most hostages were. It wasn’t her first time being taken for political reasons. Three times before, she’d been taken to prove a point or send a message. Twice had happened before her mate. The third time, he and his brother Nalik had rescued her, laughing the entire time. “My daughter...”

  The demon frowned as he continued to stir. “Is fine. I flashed to Rand to check on her while you slept. She’s well; he was feeding her fish also. And she was wrapped in a sleeping bag and wearing his sweater. He is keeping her warm and fed, in a little cave much like this one. Although mine is far better than that upstart wolf’s.”

  “Flashed? You can do that?” Of course, he could. Hadn’t he moved to block her from leaving the cave earlier? Just what she didn’t know about the demon Kinds was very clear. She was going to have to tread very, very carefully. “Can you take me to her?”

  “No. It’s too far away to take you safely. Too late and it is too cold for you.”

  “Has he...” Kindara shivered as she remembered the things the eldest Taniss had done to her, to Iavius. “Has he hurt her yet?”

  The demon shot her a look of annoyance. If he’d flashed to her daughter, why did he have on no clothing save a pair of underwear in dark black silk? She shivered, and not from any chill. She wanted to just sit and stare at his body, catalog how he was different from Dardaptoans.

  Doubtless, this was some Incubi spell. It had to be—why else would her fingers be itching to touch?

  “Definitely not. Rand won’t hurt a female. Ever. What do you know of the Taniss family that frightened you so badly earlier? Tell me, female, so that I understand.”

  10

  Rathan was pushing her. He had no right to the answers he demanded. She would give them to him. He was the demon king—he had been denied little in his life.

  He wasn’t about to start with her.

  She sank back to the moss bedding, then pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped the blanket tighter around that delectable body. “That they are evil. More so than you. At least, the males are.”

  Rathan stopped stirring for a moment. “None of the ones I’ve met are anywhere close to evil. Most are kind, gentle males who would never knowingly hurt someone—especially females.”

  “They are.” She pulled the blanket over her, huddled under it. She looked small and defenseless. “They are evil killers who will stop at nothing to get what they want.”

  “Who’d they kill?” The fish stew was ready; he carried it and his canteen of water to her side. He’d feed her first, then finish what was left. She needed food. And not just blood. Her body was not as healthy as it should be. He was making it his job to see that she returned to full health as quickly as possible. “Do you have proof?”

  “Proof I have to look at every day.”

  “Who hurt you? I saw the scars. And I will have answers about those, too.” Rathan pulled the blanket over her exposed shoulder; she was shivering. He held the spoon to her lips. He liked coddling this female. “Eat, pet.”

  “I’m not hungry.” She pushed the spoon away, but he knew she was lying. He easily
felt the hunger in her mind. “Nor am I a babe in need of feeding.”

  “Starving yourself won’t get you to your daughter any sooner. Now eat.” She needed to eat. If she didn’t, he’d compel her to. He would take very good care of this female of his.

  Rathan had made that vow to himself the moment he’d seen the scars. No one would ever hurt her again. She was not returning to the male kin who had done such a poor job of caring for her.

  It had been far too easy for him to lure her away and take her.

  Never again would this female face that threat. She needed someone strong to take care of her. Strong—and diligent.

  He fit that description.

  Perhaps he would just take her back to Relaklonos with him when he returned to rule soon. He could keep her as his consort for several centuries, if she wished.

  Pamper her, as she no doubt deserved to be pampered. Someone needed to.

  Would she like that? Her own personal servants to wait on her every whim. The finest foods and garments and jewels. A castle with all the best his world had to offer. The largest castle in the entire demon realm. Legions of demons who would serve her.

  Yes, he could keep her as a consort for many centuries. “Eat. Then we’ll talk.”

  He fed her until she pushed the spoon away. “No more.”

  He ate the remainder. “Tell me how you got those scars. All of those scars. Even these.”

  He ran a hand down her back. He would never forget the marks upon her flesh.

  Gold eyes stared at him. The memories and pain reflected there would stay with him a long, long time. He battled back the rage the idea of such pain to her caused.

  “Tell me, pet.” He put a subtle command in his words; a command he so rarely used. He was the king; his subjects knew better than to lie to him.

  He would have total honesty between them.

  She looked away from him. He had to strain to hear her words. “Thirty years ago, Leonard Taniss took me—and my Rajni—to his laboratory, where he tortured and killed my mate and nearly did the same to me. Had my brother not arrived when he had, I’d be dead. Were I not a healer, I would have been dead long before that. The end.”