“Is there some kind of danger—”
A gigantic serpent shot out of the water like a geyser and plummeted onto the beach, its body crashing directly against Abyssian.
The ground shook; she choked on a scream, but the demon hadn’t budged a single inch.
She didn’t know what shocked her more—Abyssian’s show of colossal strength or that he’d started petting the great creature.
“I haven’t visited here for a while, and they get excited,” he said. “This one in particular.” The creature’s head coiled around, its slitted eyes taking her in. Its forked tongue—as long as she was tall—flicked with curiosity.
More serpents streamed out in the water. “They’re tame?”
“They are with me. Come pet it. You’ll like the sensation against your fingertips.”
She raised her brows at him. And for my next trick . . .
He said, “It’s safe.”
She eased closer. He nodded again, encouraging her, so she reached for the creature. Muscles rippled beneath iridescent red scales the size of dinner plates.
She was about to hyperventilate from exhilaration/fear/holy shit! “I’m petting a sea serpent!” She grinned over her shoulder at the demon.
As if he couldn’t help himself, his lips curved. His moods seemed to be as changeable as the sea’s tide.
Her own irritation melted away. When her strokes slowed, the serpent shimmied for more, making her laugh.
In Demonish, Abyssian murmured, “Wants your touch as much as I.”
Be nicer, and you might get it. “How many are there?”
“A hundred or so in the sea, more in the swamps to the south. This one was a hatchling when my brother and I were pups.” Sea serpents can live that long? “Its dam died, so my sire gave us the egg. We kept it in our room, checking it every five minutes for weeks.”
The idea of Abyssian Infernas as a little boy, waiting for an egg to hatch, softened her toward him. She imagined him with miniature wings, downy horns, and a missing baby fang.
When her smile deepened, he gruffly said, “What are you thinking about?”
“I bet you were a handful growing up. Were you forever getting into trouble?”
“Always the first to trace into danger. Everyone said my life would be short. Little did they know.”
She smoothed her palm along a crease between the serpent’s scales, and it twitched. Ticklish? “What do you call your large pet?”
“We named him Loki.”
She raised her brows at the demon. “After the greatest trickster ever to live?”
“This one was a crafty hatchling, always figuring out ways to get free from his cage. Similar to my fey pet.”
“Watch it, demon,” she warned. “Here be dragons.”
Another curve of his lips. “How did you escape?”
“My ring came loose, so all bets were off.”
“And the vines?”
“I made wearable shields out of your gifts.”
“I see.” Seeming to make a decision about her, he asked, “You like to swim?”
“I love it. But I haven’t been a single time in Gaia.” She tapped the tip of one ear. “I could never hide these in the water.”
“I’ll take you now.”
She surveyed the sea serpents. “Isn’t it a bit crowded out there?”
By degrees, Sian’s ill-temper had faded, his mate’s excitement contagious.
There were so many things he could show her. Not just in hell, but in other realms as well. He wanted to experience these places anew with her.
Already he was viewing Pandemonia differently. The sea had never gotten him to raise a brow. It simply was. The same with the sea life and the jade beach. Yet she’d been breathless, her eyes flashing teal.
Hell was putting on a good show for its new queen. At least his kingdom satisfied her.
Could he? Again he wondered to what strengths she’d been referring. The way he’d pleasured her?
Maybe Sian should strive to live in the present, enjoying her for as long as possible. “If you want to swim, I could send them hunting. Not that they’d ever hurt my mate.”
She bit her bottom lip. That Calliope was even thinking about getting in the water was a testament to his mate’s courage. “I don’t have a swimsuit.”
He wanted to say, This is hell! Not Gaia or Sylvan. But she’d asked for patience; he could . . . attempt it. “You can leave your underwear on, and no one but me will see you. This is my—our—personal beach, and I’d sense any trespassers. In any case, most are terrified of the serpents.”
“I’ll swim. If you go first.”
“Fine.” He patted the serpent, and it lumbered off the beach into the water to join the others. They departed like a school of fish.
Sian reached down to yank off a boot. Pride still stinging from earlier, he couldn’t resist saying, “You should turn away. I don’t want to offend your fey sensibilities.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, muttering, “Moody prick.”
He turned to remove his other boot. As he was standing on one leg, something cold, wet, and slimy ran down his back. The little witch had used her speed to retrieve a clump of seaweed, then shoved it down his pants.
Yanking the mass free, he pinned her gaze. Her haughty smile faded when he grated, “Run.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Heart racing, Lila tore off across the beach, sending up jade in her wake. Over her shoulder, she called, “Don’t pull something, relic.” Laughing, she faced forward.
He appeared in front of her!
She skidded to a stop, then sprinted in the opposite direction. Heading for the more compacted jade-sand, she ran through the waves, elation thrumming inside her. Her senses were on fire; everything felt magnified.
Lots of firsts today. Her first time to pet a sea creature. Her first day as an immortal. Her first relationship/husband.
He called, “You can run, little fey, but you can’t trace.” If those hints of vulnerability had called to her, this teasing from him was like a drug.