“Not even flowers?” I said before I could stop myself.

The queen laughed, silvery and cold, a calculated sound, probably practiced to duplicate the real thing. She showed Muralin her teeth. He had only two fangs; she had a mouthful.

“I gave you the inhabitants of this island,” Muralin reminded her.

“You gave? I take what I want, goblin.” She gestured distaste-fully at Carnades. “You have given me nothing but a poor substitute for what I truly desire. And you were so very foolish to think that I would be satisfied with mere entrance into this world.” The demon queen moved toward him with liquid grace, sensual, mesmerizing. Rudra Muralin didn’t move. He couldn’t—or he didn’t want to. The queen reached out and brushed Muralin’s flawless cheekbone with the tip of the Scythe, leaving a thin trail of blood against his silvery skin. “You know not how helpless you truly are.” Her smile broadened and her eyes gleamed. “I should like to see true fear in your eyes. And I think I shall.”

The goblin swallowed. “You have my respect and loyalty, Your Majesty.” He stood frozen to the spot like a mouse with a large and hungry cat standing over it with twitching tail.

“Loyalty,” she purred. “We shall see.”

She turned to Carnades and ran the tip of one taloned finger lightly down the elf mage’s chest, parting the pristine white linen robe as she did so. “My poor husband is a soul without a body. This beautiful one will make a fine royal vessel, albeit a temporary one.”

Carnades Silvanus with the soul of the king of demons. I was wrong; this was the worst situation I’d ever been in.

Chapter 27

Tam didn’t bat an eye.

“So, Carnades gets to be the demon king,” he commented mildly. “What’s in it for you?” he asked Rudra Muralin.

“The Saghred, once Her Majesty frees the king.” His eyes were the flat black of a shark. “Then I’ll have anything I want, beginning with some long-overdue revenge—starting with you, Tamnais.”

Tam looked at the goblin queen and raised one flawless brow. “He gets his choice of toys? Simply for opening a door for you? Your rewards are more than generous, Your Majesty.”

“Those who serve me are appropriately rewarded.”

Tam didn’t bat an eye, but Rudra Muralin did. The smarmy punk suddenly got a tad less smarmy. “I kept my end of our bargain, Your Majesty. The sacrifices, a Hellgate large and strong enough to admit your legions, and the breeders to make more.”

There was rustling and low, throaty growls and grunts coming from the darkness around us. I kept my eyes straight ahead.

There were some things I absolutely did not want to know about.

“I allow my servants their pleasures,” the queen told Tam. “My husband and king was taken by the Saghred while dining from it. I will not risk losing him again. This goblin has agreed to become the Saghred’s bond servant and wield it for me.”

“And once your elf whore is dead by my hand, I will again be the bond servant,” Muralin gloated.

There was that word again. I felt a growl growing in my chest and stifled it. It’d almost be worth the risk of getting my own throat torn out to get my hands around his. Tam was probably having similar thoughts, but he’d always had more self-control than I did.

Tam looked at Muralin, his lips curling into a grin, and then he actually chuckled. “So once again you’ll be taking orders from someone else. For eternity. And in Hell, no less. Appropriate and delightfully ironic at the same time.” He shook his head in amusement. “Rudra, you’ve merely traded a goblin king for a demon queen. Have you forgotten that a Mal’Salin king was the cause of your first death? Do you truly think the outcome will be different this time? You’re not known for being likable. It’s only a matter of time until you’ve annoyed her enough to chain you to a slab.”

The demon queen scowled down at Carnades. “I might have been more favorably disposed toward the goblin if he had brought the correct elf to me. Though his power is impressive, this was not the one I desired. The elven paladin is the most powerful of his race that I have ever seen.”

I froze. Oh no. Mychael. She wanted Mychael.

The demon queen stretched a languid hand toward Rudra Muralin, stopping just short of touching him. The goblin’s black eyes widened, his expression a twist of fear and desire.

“The young elf will make a fine songbird for your majesty,” Muralin said quickly. “And he will be useful to secure Raine’s cooperation. The dark-haired elf is her cousin. She would do anything to keep either of them from harm.” I could see the tension ease out of the goblin’s body. To save your own ass, put someone else’s in the sling. Bastard.

“Cooperation is more easily gained when the subject is motivated,” the demon queen agreed. “So the elfling would do anything to keep her loved ones safe.” She looked at Tam, her eyes lingering appreciatively. “And her soul twin,” she said softly. “Not lovers. No, not yet.” The queen paused thoughtfully, reaching out with her mind, feeling the air between us, touching, sensing. Knowing. “But the bond that links them is even more intimate than mere flesh.” She went to stand before Tam and gracefully bent her head to his throat, taking in his scent. Tam didn’t flinch, but it took every bit of his control not to. His lips pulled back from his fangs in a silent snarl.

“Delectable,” the queen murmured. “Your black magic clings to you like exotic perfume. And to make you even more exquisite, your scent is blended with the elfling’s power.” One corner of her full lips curled into a secretive smile. “Or should I say the power of the Saghred?”

There was silence, then Rudra Muralin laughed in sheer, mad delight. “An umi’atsu bond? With an elf? This is too much. Did you hear that, Silvanus? The only one to attempt to help you this day is in an umi’atsu bond with a goblin dark mage.”

“And they are not alone,” the demon queen said, her words soft and for our ears only, Tam’s and mine. “One who is equal in power to you, my delectable goblin. Perhaps even greater. One whose power is light to your dark. I thought to use the elfling to go through the mirror to fetch the Saghred for me, but she will be more valuable as a lure.” Her ruby eyes bored into mine, and I felt myself falling into them. “The one I desire must care for you greatly to do what he has done to protect you. His efforts to prevent you from falling will seal his fate.” She raised her voice slightly; she wanted Rudra Muralin to hear. “And I have the two of you here with me now, bonded to each other.” Her smile was slow and horrible. “And to the Saghred.”

Muralin paled. He knew what the demon queen was saying. So did I. It took everything I had to keep from running into the dark with the monsters.

“The Saghred is already bonded to the elfling.” Her words were for Muralin, but she kept her fiery eyes on Tam and me. “You claim that by killing her the Saghred will again accept you as its bond servant.” She slowly turned her head toward the goblin. “I have no proof of that, only your word. And your word has proven less than reliable. The elfling can wield the Saghred now; her goblin bondmate will be able to do so soon—and he is also a master of the dark arts.” She paused thoughtfully. “What is it that you mortals say? Two for the price of one. My servants for eternity, wielding the Saghred for me. There will be no further need of Hellgates; I will be able to come and go as I please.”

Muralin’s black eyes glowered in barely controlled rage. “You swore that I—”

The queen turned on him, her words slicing like the Scythe she held. “I swore nothing; you presumed everything.” Her long-taloned hand shot out toward Rudra Muralin, lifting the goblin off his feet and sticking him like a bug into the Hellgate membrane. He struggled, but just worked himself in deeper.

And the Hellgate’s glow flickered and diminished briefly when she did it.

“Now you are a part of your own creation,” the queen said with smug satisfaction. “A fitting place for you to think and remember who is ruler here and who is the servant. My husband will require food when he arrives to claim his new body. Do not try my patience any further, or you shall be that first meal.”

Her gleaming eyes fell on Tam. “Consider that a warning, lovely one. Do you still wish to defy me?”

Tam’s will, like his stance, was cold and unmoving. “Mychael Eiliesor cannot be acquired, Your Majesty—regardless of the lure.”

The demon queen placed the tip of one talon against her lips. “You will not assist me even if one hundred lives on this island are spared?” she murmured, her voice like molten honey. “Including your beautiful son. One hundred lives of your choosing. Untouched, unmolested, unharmed. They will be allowed to live and leave this island when no one else will.” Her eyes brightened. “All for a single elf. If this Mychael Eiliesor is as infected with nobility as I have heard, he would agree to my proposal and sacrifice his life without hesitation. I wish to negotiate with you, goblin. Not persuade. My persuasion is always fatal; by the time a mortal is broken and willing to do what I require, they are no longer in a condition to do so. All that effort wasted. Pity.”

The demon queen wanted Mychael, and Tam was her choice for his kidnapper. Tam wouldn’t do it; I knew he wouldn’t. I glanced at him and saw his black eyes glittering in the dim light, his profile expressionless. As with the Volghuls, Tam gave me no notice or regard. With Tam and the trouble he often found himself in, to ignore was to protect. He was ignoring the Volghuls; he was protecting me, or at least he was trying.

All I heard was the Hellgate’s thrumming distortion. Tam’s thoughts were his own, and he was determined to keep them that way.

That was fine; I knew what he was thinking. Tam wasn’t going to betray Mychael, regardless of the offer. However, if the queen forced his hand, he would go along—up to a convenient point of betrayal. Tam was a goblin to his core. Manipulation was his kingdom’s national sport. As for the demon queen, I knew that tall, naked, and nuts had no intention of keeping her word. As a Benares, I’d been told that our word wasn’t worth the air it was spoken into unless we wanted it to be. Demons probably weren’t much different.