Maybe Rydstrom had decreed it so-he had been in
the position to, after all.
So the demon wore a permanent armband over his bicep, and he'd been tattooed and pierced. It seemed that Rydstrom Woede was the type of male whose outward appearance indicated nothing about what might be hidden under his clothes.
As she carefully zipped his pants back up, Sabine grinned. What a surprise.
6
Rydstrom woke . . . consciousness slow to come. In that dim twilight, he vaguely comprehended that he was lying on a bed.
"You're waking, after a mere half hour," Sabine said to him. "You're a strong one, demon."
Rage coursed through him with his dawning comprehension. She drugged me. He couldn't lift his limbs or pry open his eyelids. Though he scented her nearness, her voice seemed to come from miles away.
I'm not wearing a shirt? What the hell-
"It might be a few moments before we can resume physically, so I thought we'd talk about your meeting with Groot's emissary."
What did she know? He cast his mind back, but memories proved elusive.
"What do I know?" she asked, reading his mind, incensing him.
"I know why you were rushing off to New Orleans
this evening, and why you were so intent that I had to wreck your pretty car just to get your attention."
He was supposed to meet his brother tonight. Cadeon would be wondering where he was. When Ryd-strom felt her join him on the bed, he slitted open his stinging eyes, but couldn't make out more than a vague
shape.
In his ear, she whispered, "I know that Groot has forged a sword that you believe will destroy Omort."
He jerked from her, then bellowed at the sound and feel of chains. "You've . . . chained me?" The bitch had bound him to the bed with those manacles around his ankles and wrists.