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turned as red as her hair. 
    “Enough.” Maketabori’s thundering voice overshadowed the crashing rocks and blasting volcanoes.
    The grumbling ceased, and Zuto flung his hair out of his face. ’Twas Natasa’s damn fault. 
    “If you fail, Natasa,” Maketabori said. “You’ll be banished to a demon hole for centuries.”
    Natasa’s eyes widened. “Yes, my lord.”
    For the first time, hope glistened within Zuto. He suppressed a smile. His lord had given him a way out—mistakes could be made and laid at her feet. But first he would discover Maketabori’s secret. 
    Maketabori sat on his throne and gestured at Zuto. “Natasa will remain with you until I have Captain Knight and his daughter at my mercy. Do not fail me.”
    He waved his hand, and Zuto was back on his island, but this time, he wasn’t the only demon.
    “Ah, it’s beautiful.” Natasa walked along the beach. Her small footprints marred his beautiful white sand. “Where are your slaves?”
    “I don’t possess any slaves.”
    She whirled around. “You have grown soft. Where are Captain Palmer and the little witch?”
    “I am not soft, Natasa. Palmer’s reckless and fails to follow my instructions.”
    She took off a slipper, dipped a toe into a rolling wave, and splashed water into his face.“Maybe you utter poor instructions.” 
    He wiped the stinging salt from his eyes. “I don’t utter poor instructions.”
    “If you didn’t, I would not be here.” She put her hands on her hips. “Now where are those slaves?”
    He refused to allow her to hurt his people. The natives and the crew of the Fiery Damsel were his. Only he could punish his people, and he’d never let a demon whore hurt them. “Palmer and his crew are not slaves,” he said. “They’re docked on the other side of the island.”
    “’Tis why you fail, Zuto. Slaves live in fear and will do anything to avoid pain and please their masters.”
    He clamped his jaw tight to keep from arguing. He would not fail again, and he didn’t need her meddling.
    She drew her fingers up his naked chest. “Now, take me to them.”
    “Fine.” Zuto shuddered at her touch. He clasped her hand and shoved it away. She only laughed.
    He had wanted her once, had desired to bury himself inside her, but she was cold, her heart black. He craved something more than indulging in her womanly secrets. But their affair had ended long, long ago.
    He stomped down the beach, longing to jump into the ocean and get her sickly sweet scent off him. She wound her arm around his, and her nearness and intimate touch sent aversion pulsating to every nerve. His fingers itched to grab her hair, then shove her into the rolling tide and drown her. But instead, he balled his fists and kept his arms clamped to his side.
    Besides, she was one of Maketabori’s favorites. A torturer. A spy. A traitor. He needed to learn to endure her touch or lose the opportunity to discover what Maketabori was hiding. Natasa liked gossip and when she indulged in love making, she lost all inhibition.
     
     

     
     

Chapter Four              
     
    William took a breath and inhaled sweet lavender. Was he lying in a soft field of flowers? His eyes fluttered open, and he was surprised to stare up at a lass. He was lying on her curled up legs. She was slumped up against the wall, her dress stained with blood. Bloody hell, was she hurt?
    He rolled to the side and winced. Stitches pulled in his upper back, and soreness riddled through his body as if every muscle had been stretched, strained, and twisted. A memory of the lass pulling an arrow out of his back tugged at him, and he groaned. ’Twas not her blood staining the front of her dress. ’Twas his.
    He shivered and rubbed his arms to warm his bare flesh.
    Damnation.  
    A blue-green dragon tattoo adorned the middle of his chest. Red eyes glittered, and its mouth curled into a snarl, revealing sharp, jagged teeth. Dark green wings spread across his nipples while the