Free Annihilation by Philip Athans Page B

let out a slow breath through his nose and slid a hand onto Aliisza’s back. He drew her closer to him, so their sides were pressed together. Aliisza could feel his blazing body heat, so much hotter than a dark elf’s. So comfortable and reassuring. So powerful.
    “Jealous?” Kaanyr Vhok whispered.
    Aliisza thrilled that he was playing along. It was a rare reaction from the half-demon, who normally kept his feelings so carefully guarded.
    “Never,” she whispered back, pausing to let her hot, moist lipsbrush along his skin. “I just wish I could have joined you.”
    She hoped for further playfulness but instead got a dismissive chuckle. Kaanyr Vhok withdrew from her, and she plastered a coy pout on her face, narrowing her deep green eyes in a scowl.
    Vhok flashed her a rare grin and put a finger gently to her lips.
    “Don’t cry, my dear,” he said. “When this mad war is over, we’ll have time for dalliances to thrill the likes of even you.”
    “Until then?”
    He took his hand away and stepped to a small table on which was set a tray, a crystal decanter of fine brandy stolen for sport from a shop in Skullport, and a single glass.
    “Until then,” Vhok said, pouring a splash of the rust-colored liquid into the glass, “we’ll have to occasionally break for business.”
    “How goes that business?”
    “Menzoberranzan is under siege,” the cambion answered, making a sweeping gesture to indicate their surroundings, “and will be for a very long time, unless someone manages to inject some intelligence—or dare we hope, imagination—into our gray dwarf allies.”
    “You don’t sound hopeful,” she said.
    “They’re as dull witted as they are ill tempered,” Vhok replied, “but we make do.”
    He turned to look at her, and Aliisza smiled, shrugged, and sat. More accurately, she let her body pour onto a richly upholstered sofa, her lithe body draping seductively across it and her eyes playing over his body. Her leather bodice looked stiff and restraining, but it flowed over her the same way she flowed over the sofa, shifting to her will like her own skin. The sheathed long sword at her hip tucked under one leg.
    Vhok’s own costume was typically opulent, a tunic embroidered in a military style. A long sword of his own hung at his hip, and Aliisza knew he wore any number of magical bits and pieces, even in the privacy of his own temporary quarters.
    The tent they inhabited at the rear of the siege lines was cloaked in enchantments that would prevent anyone from overhearing, peeking in, or spying on them in any conceivable way, but still Aliisza felt exposed.
    “That lake,” she said, her eyes drifting around the silk-draped confines of the tent, “is the dullest place I’ve ever been, and I’ve spent time in duergar cities.”
    Vhok took a small sip of the brandy and closed his eyes, savoring it. Aliisza had long ago gotten over not being offered any.
    “It’s a dreary, gray cave,” she added. “I mean, the air is actually gray. It’s awful.”
    Vhok opened his eyes and shrugged, waiting for more.
    “They captured the captain,” she continued.
    “An uridezu?” the cambion asked.
    Aliisza nodded, lifting an eyebrow at the oddly accurate guess.
    “Sometimes,” Vhok said, “I think you forget what I am.”
    “I remember,” she said hastily.
    Kaanyr Vhok was a cambion, the son of a human father and a demon mother. He shared the most dangerous qualities of both those chaotic animals.
    Aliisza reached out a hand and shifted on the sofa.
    “Come,” she said. “Sit with me, and I’ll tell you everything I saw. Every last detail. For the war effort.”
    Vhok downed the rest of the brandy in one gulp, set the glass down, and took Aliisza’s hand. His olive skin looked dark and rich against her own pale flesh. Not as dark as Pharaun’s of course, but …
    “Sounds to me,” the cambion said as he slid onto the sofa next to his demon lover, “as if these drow are planning a