Page 3 of Bond of Passion

“Admit it is a worm,” she demanded as she skirted out of his reach.

“What? No. It’s a snake. A venomous one.”

“You lie.” Her eyes flashed as she thrust the limp creature at him with the arrogance of a queen. “But I want this animal healed. If you say you can do it, do it. If you harm him, I will have you butchered in the festival square and your parts sold at my clan’s fleshmeat booth.”

Wow. For a moment there, he’d almost forgotten how much he hated Neethuls.

Thanks for the reminder, lady.

And yet, there was more to this female. The authority in her voice and her confidence with her dagger didn’t match the sadness swimming in her eyes and tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Gently, he palmed the creature’s forehead and summoned his gift. Heat bloomed in the center of his chest and spread like fire through the glyphs in his right arm. Power surged from his hand into the animal, where it probed for injuries.

In Tavin’s mind’s eye, he could visualize broken bones and damaged organs as clearly as he could see the laceration in the cat-lizard’s hind leg where the skinning had begun.

The bastards had beaten and tortured the poor animal before starting to skin it alive.

He fucking hatedNeethuls. He couldn’t wait to waste the one he was supposed to assassinate. Maybe he’d take out a few more of the royal family just for fun.

He glanced at the female as his power knitted bone and flesh back together. Her piercing blue eyes were locked on his patient, her hand making long, soothing strokes over its fur. Worry put shadows in the hollows of her cheeks and along the harsh line of her jaw. She really did care about the thing.

“What are you going to do with it when it’s healed?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“I do not know. Meeries are not a sanctioned species.”

“Sanctioned species?”

“To feel for.” Her lips were a pale grayish-pink and glittery, almost as if they were frosted, and they turned up in a tender smile as she gazed down at the critter. “Neethul cannot afford to feel affection or love. It is actually forbidden outside of family and a very short list of sanctioned animals.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Meeries are not one of them.”

“Sounds lonely.” And he was an expert on the subject.

Her head came up sharply. “You have not told me your name. Who are you?”

“Name’s Tavin,” he said, launching into his cover story. “I volunteer at the first-aid tent over in the neutral zone.” Yes, Underworld General Hospital sponsored a booth, but he wasn’t part of it. Hell, he’d never even stepped inside the place. “I’m on a break. Figured I’d see some of the festival.”

“Really?” One delicate blond eyebrow arched. “You do not seem like the type to be strolling in a Tier-Five zone.”

That made two of them, despite the fact that she was a Neethul.

He affected a sheepish smile. He could play at being a doofus as well as anyone. “Yeah, ah, I kind of got lost. The festival is huge. I was following this big guy hauling Tyrantus tentacles, and next thing I knew, here I was.”

“Yes,” she murmured. “Here you are.”

The glowing glyphs in his arm flickered, signaling that he’d healed everything he could. He gave the critter a scratch under the chin and stepped away.

Cocking her head, the female raked Tavin with her gaze, which no longer held even a drop of softness. She was all sharp-eyed, stone-cold Neethul now. “You’re a sex demon, yes?”

His dick twitched like it wanted to answer the question with a demonstration. “Why?”

“I want to know if your kind uses sex as a weapon.”

Well, that was a first. “A weapon? No. But I guess it could be, especially after we go through our final transition—”

“Final transition? How many are there?”

He paused as a big Neethul in hide armor led a hell stallion to a stall nearby. When the guy was out of earshot, he continued.

“Seminus demons go through two transitions,” he explained, even as he wondered why he felt the need to educate this Neethul on the lives of his breed.