Fallon barely listened to the idiot’s claims, instead focusing on her magic.
Usually it bubbled through her like vintage champagne. An intoxicating promise that she could tap into whenever necessary. Now it ran through her veins with a sluggish, growingly painful lethargy.
Damn.
There was no way she was going to be able to focus enough power to send a blast toward the druid.
To hurt him, she would actually need to touch him.
“You’re mad,” she muttered, her mind racing. She had to get him closer.
But how?
“The madness belongs to my forefathers,” he was saying, tiny spots of spittle spraying from his lips. “That’s the only excuse for them to have sold out the human race to a bunch of filthy fey.”
She hid her urge to shudder. What a pathetic, disgusting excuse for a human being.
“Why do you hate demons?”
“They have invaded our world, preying on us like we’re nothing more than mindless cattle,” he snarled.
Fallon continued to concentrate her power into her hands, silently cursing the iron that was searing into her flesh. Not only was the pain distracting, but it was making it almost impossible to gather enough magic to cause real damage.
“Why do you call it your world?” she asked, her voice laced with disdain. Maybe if she could make him angry enough he would be compelled to grab her. Like any petty bully he no doubt resorted to physical violence when he couldn’t mentally intimidate his opponent. “Demons were here long before humans began to walk upright.”
He sniffed, waving aside the truth of her accusation. “And now the time has come to claim it for our own.”
Her lips twisted. “So you’re doing this for humans?”
“Naturally.”
“And you have no interest in becoming some sort of messiah for your people?” she demanded.
A smug smile curved his lips as he tried to pretend a false modesty.
“The humans will need a leader and I’m not opposed to being worshiped.”
Oh . . . bleck.
Her hands warmed, a golden glow beginning to surround them. She pressed them beneath her leg.
“Have you considered what will happen once the demons are dead?”
He leaned forward, slowly enunciating his words. “Every. Day.”
He was close. So close. But still too far.
She flicked a dismissive glance down his pudgy form that was swathed in a rough, brown robe.
“Without demons your magic will die,” she taunted. “Do you think you’ll be worshiped if you’re just another human in a silly costume?”
“I have enough potions in storage to last for several centuries.” Without warning the feral hatred transformed into something even worse. Lust. Ew. She struggled not to cringe at the hot gaze that lowered to the swell of her breasts. “In fact, I have enough that I might be willing to share with a female who was willing to please me.”
She flattened her lips, biting back her words of revulsion. If she couldn’t get him to touch in anger, then she’d settle for a horny grope.
“Really?” She tilted her head, allowing her hair to slide over one shoulder.
He licked his lips. “How long do you think you’ll last once the portals are closed?”
She shrugged, glancing beneath her lashes. It’s what her older sister, Dellicia, used to do and it always seemed to make the males take notice of her.
“A few weeks, perhaps months,” she murmured, dropping her voice until it was a husky whisper.
His gaze remained attached to her breasts. Had he never seen a pair before?
“I could prolong your life . . . at least for a while,” he said, his arrogance great enough that he assumed she would be willing to trade her body for a few measly days of life.
“If I pleased you,” she murmured.
He inched closer, his foul smell making her shudder. “You’re a very beautiful female.”
“Do you think so?” Her hands burned against the side of her leg, the magic ready to destroy the bastard just as soon as he got close enough. “I’m a demon.”
“My father seemed happy enough to bang a fey.” An ugly expression hardened his features. “In my mother’s bed. Maybe I should see what the fuss is about.”
Was that why he hated demons?
His father had a fey lover?
Ridiculous.
“What would you demand of me?” she forced herself to ask.
“Nothing too painful.” His gaze moved to her unmarred neck, perhaps seeking signs of Cyn’s feedings. Fallon felt her gut twist, wishing her neck did carry the mark of Cyn’s fangs. “Although a princess who chooses to take a vampire lover must enjoy it rough and dirty.”
“Sometimes.” A secret smile curved her lips as she recalled her berserker’s tenderness. It still amazed her that a warrior so large and fierce could touch her as if she were some fragile treasure. “Of course, I do like a man who can be . . .” She struggled for a provocative word. Dammit, why wouldn’t he touch her already? “Inventive. You’ll need to show me what you like.”
He sucked in a slow, shaky breath, his rounded cheeks flushed with his rising lust.