Demon's Kiss by Devereaux, J. (best sci fi novels of all time .TXT) 📗

minions stood at a podium andchanted from a book as Asmodeus writhed in agony beside her on the floor.

The Book of Demons. The one that had summonedAsmodeus and now tortured him.

With a gesture like limning a door, Templeton steppedthrough the circles with careless disregard for the danger of them.

Slowly, Gabriel got to her feet to put herself between himand Asmodeus—as useless a gesture as that was.

“Hello, Gordon,” she said quietly.

As an agent with the FBI, Gabriel had investigated GordonTempleton for years but he had lots of money to cover his tracks. His businesspractices had always been shady but in all those years she had never been ableto prove anything against him. Until recently. She had been close to having asolid case against him, finally.

His business partners and competitors frequently sufferedastonishing bad luck, horrific accidents, fires, arson—nothing she could proveor trace back to Templeton—while Templeton consistently made a profit. In thelast few months that bad luck had expanded to include anyone who had evercrossed Templeton.

Some of those who had crossed him had disappeared.

Including her too, it seemed. Apparently, she had beengetting too close.

She didn’t waste her time pointing out to him the penaltiesfor what he had done. Despite the stiff punishments for assaulting andkidnapping a federal agent, given the circumstances, she didn’t think it likelythat anyone would ever know what became of her. She would simply disappear likeall the others. Escape seemed unlikely.

That didn’t mean she wouldn’t try.

“Well,” Templeton said with a thin smile. “How does it feel,Special Agent Nicholas, to be served up as a slave, as mere food, to a demon?”

A pause as he nudged the prostrate and powerless Asmodeusangrily with his toe.

“My demon.”

Seeing the anger and the avid look in Templeton’s eyes,hearing it in his voice, it was clear to Gabriel that Templeton had wanted towatch as Asmodeus took her, had imagined Asmodeus raping her with his hugecock, but Asmodeus had preserved their dignity as best he could.

This was the price for it.

A demon who had more consideration than a man? What ashock, Gabriel thought dryly and bitterly. She had always thought that manwas far more vicious than any of his so-called enemies.

For a moment she thought she heard Asmodeus’ deep voice inthe back of her mind, a sound that almost seemed to resonate in her bones.

Thank you.

She glanced at him and saw his eyes glow brilliantly despitehis pain.

Turning back, she looked at Templeton and asked quietly,“What do you want with me?”

With a dismissive laugh, Templeton said, “You? Nothing.You’re nothing to me. Do you understand? You are nothing. Not anymore. Not tome, not to anyone. I have you, Special Agent Nicholas. I own you now. No one,not even the FBI, knows where you are, knows that I have you, which gives memore pleasure than you can know.”

Gordon Templeton glared at her and then his eyes settled onAsmodeus with evident displeasure.

A terrible anger and satisfaction had filled his voice andchilled Gabriel to the bone. He was working himself up to something.

Templeton’s voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “When he’sdone with you though, I’ll have you. And I’ll use you until you grovel just atthe sound of my voice.”

Although her skin crawled at the thought, Gabriel justlooked at him and yawned, to all appearances bored. She had heard many threatslike that over the years.

By her feet, she heard Asmodeus smother a furious growl. Hisimpotent rage, his despair, beat at her.

Curious, she shot a thought at him, Templeton would onlysuffer by comparison, Asmodeus. To her surprise, she sensed his spiritslighten a little.

She hadn’t imagined it—she had heard his voice.

A gift of my kiss, he explained softly, mind to mind,as the memory of his fangs as they pierced her flesh went through his mind in aflash of heat and into hers. Of my venom.

So she had felt the effects of something else. Venom.

Gabriel remembered it coursing through her veins, the fieryheat of it as it flooded her body with delicious pleasure even while his spirithad opened to hers. And hers to his. Although she hadn’t understood that then.

His dark eyes furious, Templeton held out a hand to one ofthe minions who had followed him through the gateway in the rings.

“You though, Asmodeus, must be punished for your defiance.”

That minion slapped what looked very much like acat-o’-nine-tails into Templeton’s hands.

Gabriel stiffened, horrified by the vicious thing.

This was what Templeton had been working himself up to do.

It was a horrific-looking implement. There was a shorthandle to which were attached a number of tightly woven, long, supple leatherthongs, each secured at the tip with a thick bead of iron.

For the first time Gabriel noticed the condition ofAsmodeus’ back, the ridged scars on his red flesh, the darker stripes there.They had done this to him before. He had felt the lash of that thing already.

Asmodeus.

Her throat tightened in horror as she realized what it wasthey were about to do.

At the sight of the whip, Asmodeus gritted his teeth andresigned himself to endure. If he were free, able to defend himself, this manwould never dare touch him, would not be able to touch him…but he was not.

My angel. Do nothing. You cannot stop this.

It was a comfort for him in a way, to sense her concern, toknow she feared for him, hurt for him. Still, another kind of fear shot throughhim.

Fiercely, he sent, As you love me, do not give themanother weapon to use against me, mishea.

If she fought, he would have to fight as well, despite thegeas, he would have to try to defend her, to fight beside her. If they knewshe cared, if they knew he did—more than cared—they would use her as a weaponagainst him.

“You will learn, demon,” Templeton said, furiously, “not todeny me or defy me.”

The whip lashed down with a harsh whistling sound and the ironbeads at the ends tore into the flesh of Asmodeus’ back.

Pain seared through him as the whip sliced like fire acrosshis flesh, each of the iron beads like white-hot embers as they struck hisskin, caught, burned and tore—a coda of additional agony at the end of