The Immortals After Dark 7: Kiss of a Demon King - Page 78/82

Sabine felt like weeping. "What do . . . you want?" She' d been so close.

Just as Sabine heard the front door opening, Nïx said "Rydstrom's back with your sister." . He'd already returned? "Nïx, I .. . need ..."

"And he's about to find you out of bed-"

"Sabine!" Rydstrom's voice shook the walls of the mansion.

Sabine's heart was about to seize again. She collapsed to the floor, dazed.

"Do you want the sword, sorceress? Isn't that what you came here for?"

Speechless, Sabine gave a weak nod in answer.

Nïx pulled a giant syringe out of her pocket, holding it up. As Sabine stared in astonishment, Nïx blinked at it, as if she didn't understand where it had come from.

The Valkyrie scratched her head with her free hand. "Ah!" She smiled, her face lit with realization. "I knew that I'd come here tonight to do one of two things: shove this into your heart or to play Wii. And I forgot my Wii!" She shrugged-

Then plunged the syringe directly into Sabine's chest.

Eyes wild, Sabine sucked in a desperate breath, grasp' ing at the needle jutting from her chest-gaping at Nïx as she busily worked the combination on the armory.

"The adrenaline will keep you conscious for a few more minutes, but not much more."

Just as fits of energy began flowing through Sabine's body, Nïx unlocked the armory and whistled in a breath at the sword.

46

Panic was about to overtake Rydstrom as he tore through the house, yelling for Sabine.

Lanthe was trailing him, crying, "You lost my sister!"

His breath rushed out when he found Nïx in the main hall upstairs with Sabine in her arms. The Valkyrie blinked at him. "What? A sorceress can't go check her mascara?"

He was about to yank Sabine from the Valkyrie, but Nïx said, "Easy, demon. She's hurting. Don't squish her all up."

With a nod, he took Sabine, gently cradling her.

Sabine gazed up at him. "Rydstrom, please don't-"

Nïx interrupted her. "Enough of that. He wants to take you. Count yourself fortunate, Sabine."

"Ah, gods, Abie!" Lanthe rushed to her side.

Sabine weakly reached for her sister, then drew back her poisonous hand. "Lanthe . . . stay beside me ... no matter what Omort says."

Lanthe shook her head. "But he'll make me leave."

"You can be ... persuasive."

For some reason the sister went wide-eyed. Rydstrom didn't have time to consider her reaction because another wave was building in Sabine, and she stiffened in his arms, her eyes sliding shut.

"Lanthe, we've no time to spare," he said. They'd lost hours before they'd found her wandering the streets, looking for Sabine. "We leave for the portal right now."

At the front door, Cadeon was waiting with Holly, his wife, who Rydstrom only saw briefly before. Ryd­strom was reassured to see that she gazed up at Cadeon with concern and obvious love in her eyes.

Cadeon moved to block Rydstrom's way. "Let the sorceress's sister take her. There's no reason for you to risk yourself like this."

"I've told you," Rydstrom said, "that I will not be separated from Sabine."

"I've got my crew meeting here in just minutes. We're following you in."

It struck Rydstrom that he might not ever see Cadeon again after this. "No. That's not the mission for tonight," he told him solemnly. "Cade, you can take up the fight in the future."

"This could be a trick-the sorceress can make us see things. She's trapping you for Omort. Again!"

Lanthe said, "She's dying! Can't you smell the blood?"

Cadeon ignored her. "Rydstrom, give me the com­bination to the armory. I'll use that sword tonight!" At his unbending expression, Cadeon said, "Then you take it. Conceal it-"

Nïx impatiently said, "That won't work. Omort will know if Rydstrom is hiding anything."

Cadeon shook his head. "There has to be another way."

"Put yourself in my shoes," Rydstrom said. "Imagine if this were Holly, about to die from pain."

At that, Cadeon clenched his jaw. With a harsh curse, he stepped aside, slamming his forearm against the doorway in frustration.

Heading to the drive, Rydstrom looked back over his shoulder. "You'll be a great king."

Cadeon faced him with his eyes wet. "I don't want to be bloody king! And I don't want to lose my brother, just when things... just when you don't hate me."

"I never hated you." Rydstrom gruffly added, "I love you, brother. And I'm proud of the man you've become."

With Sabine in his arms and Lanthe trailing him, Ryd­strom stepped through the smooth portal directly into the court of Tornin.

Immediately, he spied Omort upon his throne.

"What is this, Melanthe?" the sorcerer snapped.

The court was nearly empty-and even more revolt­ing than it had been before. Bodies were piled up, flies buzzing in the stench. The walking-dead revenants lined the walls.

Rydstrom forced himself to ignore it all; only one thing mattered to him. Without hesitation, he strode toward the dais. Sabine writhed in his arms, her fingers clenched in pain.

But Omort halted him with a flick of his hand, freez­ing him where he stood. "The demon comes to me?" Omort smiled, his eyes maniacal. Then to Lanthe, he said, "You leave! Now!"

"Brother, look at her!" Lanthe sobbed. "She's dying. You can't let her die! Please!"

"Her heart has already stopped," Rydstrom said. "She'll perish in minutes-"

Omort leaned forward in the throne. "Open your mind to me, demon. Now!"

Rydstrom did, willing the sorcerer to see the truth- that all he wanted was for Sabine to be safe. "I'm told you have an antidote that will heal her. That's all I seek."

"You truly have no plan? There is no trick. You merely want your littlefemale to be well. Because you're in love with her?" He gave a bitter laugh. "I could not have punished you more, since loving her has brought me nothing but misery."

"If you love her, then help her-"

"Wait . . . there's more in your mind. Sabine, open your eyes." After a moment, she blinked them open. "You've been dealt treachery from one sworn never to give it. The demon tricked you. You are not wed. He lied about the vow. Instead of swearing to protect you, he swore to hurt you."

Sabine gazed up at Rydstrom, bloody tears gathering.

"By the look on your face, sister, I think he kept his word."