Wicked Abyss (Immortals After Dark #17) - Kresley Cole Page 0,45
horns were striking. They emerged from his temples to flare back along his head. Ridged at the base, the lengths grew smoother toward the tips.
Naturally the king of hell would look to his best advantage by firelight.
He might be beastly, but he had pride in his bearing. He should; he was a king, a primordial—and a member of the most powerful alliance in existence.
A M?ri?r sat right down the table from her. Though she was boldly assessing him, he said nothing, letting her look her fill.
His lips even curled. “That color suits you.”
Compliments and wine? Again, he was putting forth an effort to make her more relaxed. At any moment, she expected him to say, And for my next trick . . . Her gaze flicked upward. “The crown of the hell demonarchy is understated.” Unlike Saetth’s fey crown.
“Because it serves little purpose. The demons of Pandemonia instinctively recognize and revere a monarch’s horns. Mine are identifiable to them above all others.”
She’d never read that. “I’m surprised His Highness invited me tonight. We didn’t seem to get off on the right foot.” She bit her lip and took a sip of wine. He might not have feet, Lila.
“I want you to call me Abyssian.”
Another order. “Very well, Abyssian.” She had a brief thought that he was trying to seduce her—he must want to be free of his demon seal—but she dismissed the idea. She’d made no secret of her hatred of him.
“I am curious about my prisoner.” With a wave of his hand, he made the table shorter, teleporting her chair closer.
“Oh!” She blinked.
He noticed her hand shaking on her cup. “Nervous?”
“I’m suspicious. Before the night’s through, you’ll probably make me run for my life from hellhounds or something.”
“You’re in no danger this evening. I vow to the Lore that you’ll be safely returned to your tower after dinner,” he said, adding, “And there’s no outrunning hellhounds.”
Dick. “Good to know.”
“Where did you live before your current home?” He sampled his drink. For a sinister demonic king, he had nice lips.
She dragged her focus back to his intense green eyes. “I was born in Sylvan.”
“Are you close to your parents?”
“I wanted to be.” Her upbringing had been so different from the ones she’d read about among other species. Maybe that explained why she wanted children so much: to shower them with the love she’d been denied. “But it wasn’t in the cards,” she said, her voice sounding sad, even to herself. Her scheming and cold parents had been consumed with acquiring ever more power. “They died years ago.”
“How many years?” Abyssian asked, as if the number was significant.
“Eleven.”
“You were thirteen when they ceased guiding you? Then what happened?”
“I went to the mortal realm to live.” Wanting away from this subject, she asked him, “What were your parents like?”
Tone abruptly curt, he said, “I’ve already answered this question for you in a past life.”
She drew back her head. “So am I never going to discover more about you? If so, I guarantee you’ll hear nothing more about me.”
Seeming to grind his fangs, he finally said, “My sire was a warrior and explorer, known for his wiliness. My dam was darkness personified.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means she was beyond most beings’ comprehension.” He drank from his goblet, his unreadable gaze taking her in. “She was a creature of shadow, born from the ether.”
How wild. “Is that where you came by your magic?”
“Possibly some, but this realm fuels the king’s magic, tying it to the ruler’s life force. The king in turn controls the land. Pandemonia and I are symbiotic.”
Fascinating. “So you don’t wield magic off-plane?”
“It’s a luxury I enjoy in my own kingdom—one I have no need of in others.”
“Did Kari come to this realm? Is that how you met her?”
He shook his head, seeming to debate how much he’d reveal. At length, he said, “When I was sixteen, that rift between Sylvan and Pandemonia had just been discovered. Back then, the fey were known as elves. They and the demons were such dissimilar species that mistrust simmered on both sides. So the king of Sylvan and my brother, King Goürlav, agreed that I would be fostered in the elven dimension for a season, learning about their culture. Kari was to be my guide.”
“And then what happened?” Would he finally tell her how she’d “betrayed” him? She braced for his answer.
His claws lengthened around his goblet. “You were a devious spy for Sylvan.”
Oh, shit. Her deadline had just gotten real. If he found