Kresley Cole - Kiss of a Demon King

The Lore

"... and those sentient creatures that are not human shall be united in one stratum, coexisting with, yet secret from, man's."

Most are immortal and can regenerate from injuries. The stronger breeds can only be killed by mystickal fire or beheading.

Their eyes change to a breed-specific color with intense emotion.

The Demonarchies

"The demons are as varied as the bands of man. . . ."

A collection of demon dynasties.

Most demon breeds can teleport or trace to places they've previously been.

A demon must have intercourse with a potential mate to ascertain if she's truly hisa process known as attempting.

The Rage Demons

"The one who controls Tornin controls the kingdom. ..."

A demonarchy located in the plane of Rothkalina.

Castle Tornin is their capital.

x Glossary

Were the guardians of the Well of Souls, a mystickal font of power located within Tornin.

The Sept of Sorceri

"The Sept forever seek and covet others' powers, challenging and dueling to seize moreor more darkly, stealing another's sorcery. ..."

A breed-line broken from the enchantment caste of the House of Witches.

Born with one innate power, their root power. If they lose it, they become slaves to their own kind called lnferi. They can trade and steal secondary powers.

One of the physically weaker species in the Lore, they used elaborate armors to protect their bodies. Eventually they held metalsand especially goldsacred.

The House of Witches

"... immortal possessors of magickal talents, practitioners of good and evil."

Mystickal mercenaries who sell their spells.

Separated into five castes: warrior, healer, enchantress, conjurer, and seeress.

The Valkyrie

"When a maiden warrior dies with valor in battle, W6den and Freya preserve her courage forever in the form of an immortal Valkyrie daughter."

Take sustenance from the electrical energy of the earth, sharing it in one collective power, and give it back with their emotions in the form of lightning.

Possess preternatural strength and speed.

Glossary xi

The Vampires

"In the first chaos of the Lore, a brotherhood of vampires dominated, by relying on their cold nature, worship of logic, and absence of mercy. They sprang from the harsh steppes of Dacia and migrated to Russia, though some say a secret enclave, the Dad, live in Dacia still."

Consist of two warring factions, the Horde and the Forebearer Army.

Like many demons, vampires can trace.

The Fallen are vampires who have killed by drinking a victim to death. Distinguished by their red eyes.

The Accession

"And a time shall pass that all immortal beings in the Lore, from the Valkyrie, vampire, Lykae, and demon factions to the phantoms, shifters, fey, and sirens . . . must fight and destroy each other."

A kind of mystickal checks-and-balances system for an ever-growing population of immortals.

Occurs every five hundred years. Or right now . . ..

"With me, nothing is as it seems. It's usually much, much worse. And then-What do you mean I only get one epigraph? I get as many as 1 please. Only pre-eviscerated people have ever said things like that tome."

-Sabine of the Sorceri, Queen of Illusions, anointed princess of Rothkalina

"That sorceress might he an evil bitch, hut she's my evil bitch. And I'll have no other."

-Rydstrom Woede, fallen demon king of Rothkalina

Gray Waters Lunatic Asylum, London Fall 1872

Whenever you have a sorcerer betwixt your thighs, your powers tend to disappear," Sabine told her sister as she scanned the faces of the frenzied, caged humans. "It's merely a fact of life."

"Maybe in the past," Lanthe said as she dropped the unconscious guard she'd been toting by his belt. "Things are going to be different with this one." She busily tied the man's hands behind his back-instead of breaking his arms, which had the same result and didn't waste rope. "You still haven't seen her?"

Her-the sorceress they came to release from this place-if she agreed to convey her powers to Lanthe in exchange for her freedom.

Sabine slinked down the darkened corridor. "I can't tell when they huddle like this." She plucked a cell door off its hinges and tossed it away, her heels clicking as she entered the cage. Up close, she could tell the inhabitants all looked very ... mortal.

Naturally, they cowered from her. Sabine knew the exotic picture she presented with her garments and face paint.

As though she'd donned a mask, her eyes were kohled black in a swath from the sides of her nose to her temples.

Her clothes were constructed more of strips of leather and chain metal than of cloth and thread. She wore a metal bustier and mesh gloves that ran the length of her arms, ending in forged fingertip claws. Situated among her hair's riotous braids was her elaborate headdress.

Typical garb of the Sorceri females. In fact, if one's apparel didn't weigh more than the wearer, then one was underdressed.

By the time Sabine was exiting the next cell down, Lanthe had finished with the knots "Any luck?"

Sabine tore free yet another cage door, peered at pale faces, then shook her head.

"Do I have time to check the smaller cells in the basement?" Lanthe asked.

"If we're back at the portal in twenty minutes we should be all right." Their portal back to their home of Rothkalina was a good ten minutes away through dank London streets.

Lanthe blew a jet-black plait from her forehead. "Watch the guard and keep the freed inmates inside this hall quiet."

Sabine's gaze flitted over the unconscious male sprawled on the squalid floor, and her lip curled in disgust. She could read the minds of humans, even when they were blacked out, and the contents of this one's were giving even Sabine pause.

"Very well. But hurry with the transfer," Sabine said. "Else we'll attract our foe."

Lanthe's blue eyes gazed upward out of habit. "They could be here at any second." She hastened to the stairwell once more.

Their lives had become a droning cycle: Steal a new power, flee enemies, have power stolen by a smooth-talking Sorceri male, steal a new power. . . . Sabine allowed it to continue.

Because she'd ruined Lanthe's innate ability.

When her sister was gone, Sabine muttered, "Look after the guard. Very well..."

Lifting the man by his collar and belt, she tossed him in front of the exit doors. Some of the denizens grew wild at the violence, howling, pulling their hair. The ones who'd been eyeing the main exit scuttled back.

Shush the humans, easy enough. She sauntered to the guard and stepped up onto his back, opening her arms wide. "Gather round, mad human persons. Gather! And I, a sorceress of dark and terrible powers, will reward you with a story."

Some quieted out of seeming curiosity, some in shock. "Hush now, mortals, and perhaps if you are good, quiet pets, I'll even show you a tale." The cries and yells she'd ignited were ebbing. "So sit, sit. Yes, come sit before me. Closer. But not you-you smell like urine and porridge. You, there, sit."