Chapter 32 Selma
Selma
The café Kesh had directed her to turned out to be more of a pit stop for truckers, with only a few patrons at the tables, thanks to the late hour.
Selma paused at the entrance to let her gaze sweep the shop in hopes of spotting the man she was here to meet.
At the farthest table facing the door, an obscenely handsome man looked up, his eyes widening in outrage at the state of her.
Selma tugged self-consciously at her ruined coat. Underneath it her clothes were even more ripped from Marathin’s attack, but she hadn’t exactly had time to do anything about it.
The stranger got up from his chair, his movements carefully measured in a way that more than hinted at inhuman strength as he made his way toward her.
She swallowed automatically, fighting an instinct to flee. He was most definitely a demon Lord, given the way invisible power radiated from his huge form.
“Kesh?” Her voice cracked when he stopped in front of her. She had to tip her head back to look at his face.
He nodded as his black eyes narrowed to slits. “Naharan did this to you?”
Oh, great. As much as she appreciated his anger on her behalf, now was not the time to deal with primitive demon instincts, and Kesh looked an awful lot like Kain had when he’d sworn to kill Marathin.
“No, but can we please get out of here? I don’t know if they’re still after me.
” Even though she felt distinctly uneasy about being this close to a demon Lord she didn’t know, Kain had trusted him with her safety.
No matter his overwhelming presence, she much preferred to be in his company than out in public where the Prince could get to her.
Kesh growled low, but nevertheless placed an oversized hand on her shoulder so he could steer her out the door.
“How many were there?” he asked when they made it to the parking lot.
“Seven. Prince Naharan and six females.” Selma turned to look up at the demon accompanying her. “They made a deal—the females helped the Prince secure Kain, and in return he’ll be used for... for breeding. We need to save him.”
Kesh’s eyebrows rose at her words, but instead of commenting, he simply guided her to a black motorcycle.
Selma squirmed away from his grip on her shoulder. “Are you even listening to me? Kain’s in trouble. You need to help him!”
The demon let out a small sigh, his dark eyes gleaming with impatience. “Trust me, he didn’t have you call me for his sake. You said it yourself a moment ago—they might still be hunting for you, so right now we need to get you to safety. We can talk about my brother once you’ve been secured.”
Brother? Selma stared at him as he took off his leather jacket, zipped it around her, and then shoved a helmet over her head. Finally he mounted the bike and twisted to lift her behind him.
So this was the other son of the woman who’d killed herself to escape an eternity as a Breeder.
“Hold on tight. It’s a long drive,” he grunted, and she wrapped her arms around his T-shirt-clad midriff.
He seemed about as approachable as Kain had the morning after their first meeting, but despite her instinctive wariness of a demon his size and less-than-talkative nature, she felt substantially safer on the back of his bike than she had on the car ride here.
If he was Kain’s brother, he would most definitely help get her mate back—and make Naharan pay.
They rode for hours.
When Kesh finally pulled up to a large estate, Selma’s entire body was stiff from the ride, and despite her worry for Kain and the trauma she’d endured from Marathin, she found it hard to stay awake.
Yet she peeked up from behind Kesh’s wide back when he stopped in front of the iron gates flanked by armed men.
They were somewhere in the countryside, in which state she didn’t know, but the security seemed as vigorous as it had been at Kain’s casino.
Apparently all demon Lords were anal about surveillance.
“Alert Kirigan of my arrival,” Kesh said to the guard.
“Yes, sir,” the guard replied as the gate swung open to allow them entry. He glanced curiously in her direction before Kesh kicked the bike back into gear and they roared up the long driveway to the manor house.
“Who’s Kirigan?” she asked once they’d stopped again. “Your second-in-command?”
“My father,” Kesh grunted before unceremoniously lifting her off the back of his bike.
Selma froze, staring up at the imposing house. Despite her fatigue and aching joints, she suddenly felt rather hesitant at the prospect of walking inside.
Kain’s father… What little she had heard of him had been enough to scare her, and meeting him like this, without the protection of her mate? It was more than a little daunting.
“So Kain told you about him?”
She looked up at her companion. The slight flare of his nostrils gave away what he’d picked up on—the smell of her fear.
“A little,” she croaked.
Kesh grimaced and placed a hand on her shoulder, gripping her gently through the much-too-large leather jacket. “He won’t harm you, Breeder. And we need his help. Come—after you provide what details you can, you will be cared for.”
There wasn’t really anything else to do. Kain needed help, and this seemed the only way to get it.
With the constant presence of Kesh’s large hand on her shoulder, as if he thought she needed the support, Selma climbed the stairs to the grand doorway where yet another man stood guard.
“Does your dad expect an attack?” she asked when the armed male sent her a curious look.
“Who knows?” the demon Lord behind her grumbled. “Most Lords keep their private domain well-protected.”
The guard opened the door for them without comment, even though he looked like he was bursting to ask about the Breeder being hauled into the estate.
Selma saw his nostrils twitch in her direction when they passed over the threshold and managed to smother an eyeroll. Smelling like catnip for demons was starting to lose its novelty.
Inside, the house was every bit as manor-like as the exterior. Selma looked around the grand hall they’d stepped into with raised eyebrows. ”Did you and Kain grow up here?”
“Yeah.” Kesh gave the exquisite paintings on the far wall a disgusted look. “Grossly pompous, isn’t it?”
There wasn’t a lot she could say to that. She’d grown up in a lower middle-class household, and the only things they’d had on the walls were her drawings and various art projects as she was growing up. This level of wealth was far beyond anything she could relate to.
Of course, the fact that Kain could pay what he had for her just by “shifting some assets around” should really have warned her of the kind of home he’d grown up in.
Kesh led her down a marble-floored hallway and into what looked like an old-fashioned library or drawing room.
Floor-to-ceiling bookcases in dark wood lined the walls, and a chesterfield sofa with matching armchairs sat by one of the two large windows that probably offered a lovely view of the grounds in the daytime.
By a large fireplace stood a tall, broad-shouldered man with a crystal tumbler full of amber liquid. He was wearing a loose shirt and black pants, and his naked feet suggested he’d gotten out of bed to meet them.
“Father,” Kesh greeted him, “I’m afraid we have a problem.”
“Of course we have a problem,” Kirigan said. His voice was dark and rich, and it reminded her painfully of Kain’s. His hair was black as Kesh’s, but she could see the resemblance to both of them in his angular features and soft lips.
He also looked to be exactly the same age as his two sons, but before Selma had a chance to reflect on that startling realization, the demon’s black eyes landed on her, and all her contemplation halted as she tried to suppress a shudder.
Something was off in his deep gaze—like she was staring into an abyss, not a person’s soul.
Thankfully he shifted his disturbing eyes back to Kesh after perusing her for only a few seconds.
“Why else would you come? I take it the woman is the Breeder your brother claimed a few days ago. Is he dead?”
His calm tone made Selma frown. He was talking about his child’s potential death with no more emotion than if they’d been discussing the weather.
“No, but the prince attacked him and gave him away to the queen so she can breed him. He needs our help.”
Selma hadn’t meant to draw the disturbing demon’s attention back to her, but his apparent lack of care made her push past Kesh’s protective shoulder to glare at the man who’d raised her mate.
“Our help, little Breeder?” Kirigan’s eyebrows crept up a few millimeters. “You care what happens to the beast who raped you?”
Unexpected anger flared in her chest at hearing the gentle giant who’d protected and cared for her spoken about as if he were anything like the monster who had actually raped her.
“He’s no rapist. He was going to set me free. Yes, I care for him—he’s my mate and the father of my child, and I don’t care what fucked up relationship you obviously have with him! I am going to save him—and if you’re not going to help me, I’m wasting my time.”
Something shifted in the dark, dangerous depths of Kirigan’s gaze, and realization of what she’d just said set in like a cold shock. Reflexively she stepped back, plastering her back against Kesh’s strong torso in instinctive search of protection.
“Well, well, aren’t you a little firecracker?” Kirigan mused before taking another sip of alcohol. “And pregnant? I suppose that explains why Kain would send her to you for help.” He raised an eyebrow at Kesh.
The demon behind her let out a low rumble, almost imperceptibly putting his shoulder back between her and his father.
“Apparently. Nevertheless, if he’s still alive as she says, I’m going to go get him. I assumed you would care what happened to your oldest son too, or I would not have brought his mate here.”