Kresley Cole - Kiss of a Demon King

Have to get her help . . .

"Cadeon!" Rydstrom bellowed.

His brother came bounding up the stairs, barreling into the room with his sword drawn. "What the hell?"

"Sabine's sick-where is Nïx?"

"I can go get her."

"Do it, and then meet us at the witch's coven-"

"Nooo!" Sabine screamed, thrashing in his arms. "No .. . coven."

"Easy, baby, we'll stay. Easy . . ." To Cadeon, he snapped, "Bring Nïx here. If you can't find her, then hunt for Mariketa the Awaited. Or even Tera the Fey. She knows poisons."

Without a word, Cadeon bolted from the room. Rydstrom heard the side door slam shut, then Cadeon's truck peeling away.

Rydstrom laid his palm on her cheek, wincing in confusion as pain suddenly shot through him, as if he'd laid his hand on a flame. But then her nightgown and the bedclothes were cold.

"Hold on for me, Sabine. Help's coming."

Pain razored through her body, making her muscles knot. The coppery tang of blood flooded her mouth. Feels like blades are slicing through my veins, and pumping into my heart.

Rydstrom kept demanding to know what was wrong, staring down at the blood in horror, rocking her in his arms.

She panted in anguish, her eyes squeezed shut. She'd been wrong. There was no way she could withstand this. So stupid, so arrogant to think she could live through this.

And now she'd pay for it. Unless Rydstrom can bring himself to do what needs to be done.

Her body twisted as the excruciating waves built, her mind overrun with visions of drinking her poison. Yes, downing glass after glass of it. .. just dripping the sear­ing black granules straight onto her tongue, then swal-lowing them dry.

Ah, gods, she could accidentally poison Rydstrom with her skin, her blood. Must warn him. "Can't . . . touch me."

"Sabine, I have to get you to someone who can help!"

She shook her head violently. "No one here . . . can."

Another wave hit. Unthinkable ... unearthly agony. Her eyes flashed open when the manic pounding of her heart stopped.

Their gazes met. "Cwena?" he rasped, "your . . . heart?"

Over. Her mind went blank. Her lids eased shut. His unholy roar shook the room.

Her fucking heart had stopped . . .she'd almost died. He'd never forget how he'd felt when he'd heard that first dogged beat as her heart struggled on.

He sat with his back against the headboard, squeez­ing her in his arms, rocking her as they both sweated from pain. When she moaned, he murmured, "I'm with you, baby. I'm with you."

Whenever he touched her skin, he felt eviscerating pain, so he continually smoothed his palm over her forehead and face, hoping to draw it from her.

Her bloody coughing had subsided, but he sensed this was in no way over. He was grappling to keep the rage reined in so he could take care of her.

A storm had descended on them, with lightning streaking all around the house, thunder rattling the glass doors. With each lightning bolt, Sabine's face looked even more deathly pale.

When Cadeon squired Nïx into the bedroom half an hour later, the Valkyrie's gaze flickered over Rydstrom's

face, as if gauging his sanity. His horns were straight, and he knew his eyes were black, but he was holding on.

"What is going on here?" she asked. "All Cadeon would say is, 'Have you ever wanted to see a scene from The Exorcist in real life?'"

"She's sick," Rydstrom said. "She told me it was a poison. You know poisons. Tell me what to do."

In the darkened room, figments of Sabine's illusions began flashing in a delirious procession, like words babbled.

Nïx approached the bed, tilting her head. "There's a blue tinge to her lips." She turned Sabine's arm over.

Streaking down the pale skin was a jagged red injury, like a burn. It ran all the way to her palm, where it made an X.

Nïx abruptly dropped her arm, wiping her hand on her pants. "She's been condemned."

"Condemned? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"This is the morsus, the crudest poison-because it causes inconceivable pain upon the withdrawal. Sabine would have had to take a regular dose of this poison to keep it at bay."

"Ah, gods, she'd been trying to get back to Omort days ago. I . . . stopped her."

"Then he's the one who has done this to her. It makes sense that he'd use this to control her for all these years."

"What will happen to her?"

"Have you touched her skin? Did you feel that pain?" When he nodded, she said, "You're experiencing pos­sibly a percent of what Sabine is. There's supposed to be

no greater agony. It feels like being scalded and stabbed, as if your skin is being pincered from your body. Demon, this will get a thousand times worse. The pain will become so great, it will prove a shock to her body, so intense that her heart will stop."

"It already has!" Inhaling deeply, he tried to calm his tone. "What can I do?"

Nïx shook her head sadly. "Absolutely nothing help her. The only person who can save her is the one who poisoned her. Rydstrom, you need to prepare your­self. Sabine will have one heart attack after another

"No! No, someone has to be able to help her," he said, his voice breaking. "Tera, Mariketa-" "Will only confirm what I've said." "What about Sabine's sister-she's saved her

before!"

"Ah, Melanthe, the potential Queen of Persuasion. Healing another is one of the hardest processes to effect. And her power is weak, only manifesting itself in unpredictable fits and spurts."

Rydstrom rested his forehead against Sabine's, des­perate to take this pain from her. "There has to be something I can do for her." He gazed up at the Valkyrie, unashamed to beseech her. "Nïx, please ..."

"There is something you must do. Rydstrom, if you care anything about Sabine," she said, "you will kill her now."

In between fevered waves of agony, she'd heard Ryd­strom speaking to her.

With his voice growing thick, he'd pleaded, "Cwena,

fight this forme." He'd threatened, "What am I supposed to do without you? You can't leave me like this! I'll fol-low you to the gods damned grave, Sabine."

And when another wave had crashed down and she'd thrown back her head and shrieked, he'd roared with his own pain and confusion, clutching her so tightly, until her screams died down....

Sometimes, she heard other voices. The brother was

often here. Two females came and went.

Now she perceived Rydstrom sitting beside her on

the bed, stroking her hair. But another wave was build-

ing.... building . . . And each one was worse than the

last.

"Rydstrom..."

"I'm here, Sabine." He kissed her palm, then rubbed

his face into it. "I'm right here."

"Kill me," she begged as residual pain seared through her body. "Please..."

His dark eyes were frantic. "Never!"

"You say . . . you care about me," she whispered. "But if you did ... you would kill me."

"I don't fucking care about you! I'm in love with you, Sabine. You told me I needed you," he said desperately. "I do. Freely, I admit it." He held her face, seeming to grit his teeth against the pain of the contact. "We'll fight this together."

"You . . . love me?" She'd known, had felt it every minute with him. But to hear him say it. . .

"Ah, gods, cwena. You have my heart. Anything that I possess is yours. Just heal. Just feel no pain."

"Then let me go." Damp tendrils of red hair framed Sabine's pale face. "Please . .. I'm begging you ..."

He couldn't hear these words, couldn't imagine the pain that would drive her to speak them-

She seized again, her back arching, more blood gur­gling from her lips as she screamed again and again. Nïx and Cadeon rushed inside just as her body fell limp.