City of Thorns (The Demon Queen Trials #1)(40)



Clearly, I had to watch my back here. Lydia would rip my heart out the first chance she got.

I hadn’t really thought about the implications until now, but as the only person in the Asmodean Ward, I would be its leader by default. Lydia was no longer the only female on the council, and she didn’t like that one bit. I’d be part of the Quorum now. Close to the king. A rival for the role of queen.

She just had no idea I wouldn’t be here that long.

I glanced back at the Bridge of Harrowing and saw that some of the other demons from the forest were starting to stumble out, looking like zombies—bodies scorched, clothing singed. Some had blistered skin and watering eyes.

This night had been brutal for lots of us, but I supposed only a single death was a victory.

Orion pulled me close to him, almost protectively. “My lady will want to dry off, and I’ll need a change of clothes after that unfortunate incident. We will soon join you at the temple.”

He grabbed me by the hand, leading me to the street on the far side of the esplanade. Within moments, a sleek black car pulled up, and Orion opened the door for me. I slid inside and buckled up while Orion told the mortal cab driver to take us back to his apartment in the Leviathan Hotel.

Now, for the first time tonight, I felt the full weight of my exhaustion. My muscles burned with fatigue, and my throat felt raw. Even without the other clothes, I still smelled faintly of fox pee.

Never in my life had I craved a bath so badly.

When the car started rolling, Orion turned to look at me. “Congratulations,” he said softly. “Duchess Mortana of Lilitu.”





The first thing I’d done upon our return to Orion’s apartment was to run upstairs to the balcony bath. As I’d filled it with scalding water, I’d stripped off my clothes. Now, I was leaning back into the hot, bubbling bath as the steam curled around me. I let my muscles melt and scrubbed my body clean.

While I soaked in the heat, I gazed up at the stars. I could just about make out the North Star, I thought, at the end of the Little Dipper. Mom had taught me to find it, another survival technique. I looked for it at night sometimes, centering myself. It was just that the compass app was a lot easier and worked even when there were clouds.

I let out a long, shaky breath. My mind kept flicking back to the demon I’d hit with fire. Hair blazing, clothes flaming…horrible.

I shuddered, suddenly struck by the feeling that I didn’t want to be alone.

Half of me wanted to call Orion in here while I bathed to keep me company. But like the primal keening of the demons’ war cries in the wilderness, I sensed instinctively that it wouldn’t end well.

I rose abruptly from the bath. Water dripped off my bare skin in the cool night air, and I started to towel off.

Sex with Orion absolutely could not happen. For one thing, he’d threatened to kill Shai, and I’d just seen exactly how efficient he could be with killing. In under a second, she could be dead. On top of that, he was a suspect. I was sure that the police had rules about not sleeping with anyone under a criminal investigation.

His attraction to me was probably fake, anyway.

I mean…it didn’t feel fake. That encounter in the Tower of Baal, with my legs wrapped around him—it really felt like he hadn’t been faking that desire. The heated look in his eyes, the exquisitely sensual stroke of his magic over me, the feel of his hardness between my thighs…

I started to towel-dry my hair, flipping it over my head. Anyway, he was bad news.

Once dry, I slipped into the clothes I’d laid out for myself—tiny, silky underwear in a deep blue, and a matching lace demicup bra. I stepped into the underwear, doing my best not to think about Orion, and then pulled on a soft black dress. It was kind of a cute 1960s look—short as hell, but with long sleeves and a turtleneck, and smoking hot when paired with thigh-high boots, succubus style.

When I came downstairs again, I found Orion sitting on his cream sofa with a glass of whiskey. He’d changed into a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, exposing his creepy snake tattoo. He wore deep forest pants that looked like raw silk and probably cost ten thousand dollars.

“The duchess returns,” he said as I sat beside him. “You know, love, I didn’t think a mortal could do what you did. It seems you’re capable of great surprises.” His voice was a velvety caress. “Your not-so-adoring crowd will be expecting you soon. Mortana doesn’t tire, I’m afraid.”

“How’s your chest?”

“Same as it ever was.” A sly smile. “Fine on the outside, dead on the inside. Fortunately, only metaphorically.”

I crossed my legs, and his gaze flicked to my bare thighs for just a moment before he rose. “Stand up. Let me heal your bruises.”

I pulled down the high neck of my dress. He frowned, then touched me lightly, just beneath my chin. I closed my eyes as the sensual feel of his magic washed over me. Simmering waves snaked around my throat, making my muscles relax.

He pulled his hand away. “There. good as new.”

Sighing, I sat again. “Don’t you want to know everything that happened?”

He took a seat across from me. “I saw the ragged remnants of your enemies. Did I mention that there’s something kind of terrifying about you?”

“You killed fifty demons, didn’t you? That means you ripped out fifty demon hearts in the forest. I think you’re more terrifying.”

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