Kiss of a Demon King Read Online Free PDF Page B

that opened up to the road. To conceal it, Sabine had woven one of the largest, most intricate illusions of her life, making the dungeon look just like a part of the scenery along the road.
    It seemed an eternity passed before Rydstrom finally lurched from the smoking wreck. She released a breath she hadn't known she held.
    And there he was.
    He certainly was big-approaching seven feet tall with broad shoulders. His hair was as black as night. His horns curved out from just past his temples to run along the sides of his head, their shell-like color stark against his thick hair. Indeed, one was damaged, the end broken off.
    Though he reeled a couple of steps, he didn't look too injured. No visible blood.
    Sabine arched a brow just as Lanthe silently said, "Your demons just. . . fearsome-boking."
    She was about to correct Lanthe and say, "Not my demon." But the male before them would indeed be hers. For a time. "He is a fearsome male, isn't he?"
    From his appearance, Sabine would have guessed him to be an assassin or cutthroat criminal of some sort. How odd, since he was supposed to be a bastion of reason, a wise leader who liked to solve conflicts and discover solutions to complex puzzles.
    Rumor in the Lore held that a lie had never left Rydstrom’s tongue. Which must be a lie in itself.
    "Are you going to try to seduce him first or just spring the trap?"
    "Seduce him first. He might go demonic over his capture." She smoothed her hands down her pale blue dress
    "You look good," Lanthe said. "Sweet. Nothing says 'darnel' like pastel."
    "That's just unnecessary, Lanthe." Since Sabine hadn't wanted him to know she was a sorceress, she'd worn an elegant but conservatively boring gown. She'd thought it wouldn't hurt to appear virtuous, which she assumed a good demon king would prefer.
    He had better like her shudder some new look. Except for her ring, not a single ounce of gold adorned her body.
    No makeup, either. She'd left her hair unplaited, curling almost to her waist-without a headdress. And it felt wrong.
    "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Lanthe asked. "No second thoughts about taking one on the chin for Team Evil?"
    Eyes locked on her prey, Sabine murmured, "Not in the least."
    A goal, a plot, a possibility ... all lay before her.
    Once he staggered back to survey the damage to his car, crunching over glass and debris, the demon whistled in a breath at the sight, but his attention quickly turned away from the wreck.
    "Is someone here?" he called. With each second that he shook off the accident, his shoulders went farther back, his chin lifting, his demeanor unmistakably kingly. "Are you hurt?"
    Sabine didn't answer, instead letting his voice roll over her. It was pleasingly deep-toned, with the British-tinged accent common to noble rage demons.
    When he loped in her direction, he snagged a cell phone from his pocket and peered at the screen. She heard him mutter, "Bugger me." No reception out here.
    He wore a dark jacket over a thin black sweater that molded over his broad chest. His clothes were simple in cut but expensive-looking. Tailored, of course. No off-the-rack garments would fit his towering build and wide shoulders.
    The battle scar on his face carved across his forehead, then jagged down his cheek. He had to have received that injury before the age when he'd been "frozen" in his immortal body-she guessed when he was thirty-four or thirty-five years old-or else it would have healed seamlessly.
    The scar gave him a dangerous air that clashed with his royal bearing and rich-looking clothing, as did his horns, his fangs, his black claws ...
    "I'd do him," Lanthe said.
    "Since you'd do anyone, your comment is meaningless in the definitive sense."
    "You're just jealous."
    Yes, yes she was.
    When he glanced back up, he met eyes with Sabine. His were the most startling green she'd ever seen.
    "Go now," she told Lanthe. "Be ready to shut the portal directly behind us. Once I capture him, report my success