Dragon's Tongue (The Demon Bound) Read Online Free Page B

Alaric Braidwine,” Fenelon said.
    Alaric opened his mouth to refute the claim, but had little time. Two of the lasses detached themselves from Fenelon and dove on Alaric like a pair of greedy hawks after a succulent rabbit. He suddenly found himself sandwiched between the giggling pair who had more hands than he could count and no qualms about finding places to put them—or their lips. Alaric fought against the urge to panic as warmth clouded his good sense. Horns, he was not a total innocent. He’d kissed a scullery maid or two in his past. But his precious psaltery sack nearly left his lap, and he had to push at least one of his attackers away to keep it from falling to the floor. She laughed as though it were sport and immediately came at him again.
    “Fenelon, I thought we were here to eat,” Alaric said breathlessly, casting a pleading glance at his companion.
    Fenelon laughed. “All right, ladies, your master’s finest, please, for we are famished.”
    There were a few mutters of protest that were brought to a close when the landlord shouted for the girls to get about their business as they had other customers to attend. Fenelon kissed at least two of them and stroked the lips of a third before they hurried away.
    “You promised you weren’t going to get me into any trouble,” Alaric said wearily.
    “And I’ll keep that promise,” Fenelon said as two ales were delivered. “Now go on, wet your throat and give us a song. Relax. Have a little fun. Life’s too short, even if you are mageborn. Do you really want to be a dull stump of wood all your life, Alaric?”
    Alaric sighed, snatching up one of the ales.
    He still couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched from afar.

FOUR
     
    The pale one had a fine voice in Vagner’s opinion, and he plucked his psaltery with an enviable skill. In fact, the demon found his delight in the sensation of music vibrating his essence had overwhelmed his sense of duty. He would gladly have traded masters were this one to seek a familiar’s services. Alas, mageborn were not as tolerant of demonkind as their bloodmage counterparts.
    The youth was singing the Ballad of the Minstrel’s Daughter when Vagner began to form a plan. This young mage was holding the very means by which the demon could easily travel past the wards. The psaltery his fingers tripped across would be a perfect place for the demon to stow himself, and so long as the other mage planned to cloak their return as he had their escape, Vagner would not have to worry about risking discovery.
    The demon smiled, and the expression earned him the immediate attention of a few mortals in close proximity. At least one of the wenches took that expression as a cue this handsome being sought a willing companion. Even better , the demon thought as she stopped at his table.
    “What’s your pleasure now, sir?” she asked.
    Vagner winked. “A bit of sport in the stables, I think,” he said and touched her hand, sending a trace of his essence into her flesh.
    While she did not stiffen or flinch from his “touch,” her eyes took on a blank, submissive stare as he wove himself into her puny mortalborn will. Still, she stayed upright as he rose and took her arm, and he even made her cock her head in a coy manner should anyone be watching and wonder what was afoot. Vagner tossed a few phony coins upon the table and led her out of the tavern.
    The street was still lively enough to make him cautious, but it was a simple matter to skirt the tavern yard and find privacy in the stables. There, Vagner looked at the wench with a sense of longing. Not for her body, though, as he was not a breed of demon possessed of anything akin to human lust, but rather as a creature whose appetite for flesh was in a more…culinary range.
    She would not, however, be of any use to him if he ate her here and now. So instead, he whispered his desires, implanting the instructions into her mind. She stood motionless as he dared to extend a