Page List


Font:  

Jaenelle sighed. "All right. We'll deal with this."

Surreal watched Jaenelle's arm tremble as she lifted the coffeepot and poured two cups. When she reached for the cream and sugar, Surreal stepped forward.

"Want some help?"

"No."

Wondering about the whiplash of anger under the word, Surreal hesitated.

"Take your coffee and a sandwich," Jaenelle said, grabbing a sandwich off the plate and taking a bite.

"What's going on?" Surreal asked cautiously.

"You want Falonar to walk away from this intact?"Jaenelle countered. "Then take a sandwich. And hold on to that wall of sass and indifference you've erected in front of what you're really feeling."

Before Surreal could ask what coffee and sandwiches had to do with what she was, or wasn't, feeling, she felt the wash of dark power roll through the Hall. Ebon-gray and Black…immediately answered by another Black.

Hell's fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful. All three of them…and all of them pissed off.

Grabbing a sandwich, Surreal took a bite and hoped she wouldn't choke.

"Come over here and sit down," Jaenelle said.

Feeling the three-pronged storm moving through the Hall toward them, Surreal sat on the end of the couch farthest away from the door. She gulped coffee to wash down the sandwich, then refilled both their cups after Jaenelle drained hers.

"Ready?" Jaenelle asked.

Shit shit shit."Can I go back to being an orphan?"

Amusement lit Jaenelle's eyes. "Not a chance."

The sitting room door swung open. Saetan walked in, flanked by Daemon and Lucivar. Lucivar's gold eyes were lit with hot temper. Daemon's and Saetan s eyes had that chilling glaze. But the three of them stopped abruptly when Jaenelle smiled at them as if there was nothing in the world they could possibly be upset about.

"If you want coffee, you'll have to ask Beale to send up another pot," Jaenelle said, "but there are plenty of sandwiches left."

"No, thank you, witch-child," Saetan said, taking another step forward. He studied the woman who had been his Queen…and was still, and always, the daughter of his soul…before those glazed eyes focused on Surreal.

Looking past Saetan, Jaenelle focused her smile on Daemon. "Surreal's going to stay with us a few days."

"She's always welcome," Daemon replied. "This is her home, too."

Lucivar stepped away from the other men, his dark wings flaring, making him look bigger…and more formidable. "You left Ebon Rih in a hurry."

Surreal shrugged. "Just wanted to get away for a while. And frankly, sugar, your mornings start with a lot more noise than I want to deal with."

"Noise?" Jaenelle asked.

Surreal rolled her eyes. "The last time I was at Lucivar's eyrie around breakfast time, Daemonar was screaming because a wolf pup had chewed on his foot. Of course, the reason the pup had chewed on his foot was becausehe had been chewing on the puppy's tail."

"In other words, it was a typical morning."

"Precisely."

They both looked at Lucivar, who swore under his breath. "All right. Fine. Anything you want to tell me about Falonar?"

"No," Surreal replied.

Before Lucivar could argue, Saetan said,"Our apologies for intruding, Ladies. We'll let you get back to your own discussion."

Surreal held her breath as she watched Saetan and Lucivar leave the room…and noticed how Daemon lingered a moment, his eyes on Jaenelle, before he followed his father and brother. When the door closed behind him, she sighed with relief.

"Think they bought it?" she asked.

"No." Jaenelle set her cup on the table. "But it's understood that they have no justification for going after Falonar, so they'll leave him alone."

She set her own cup aside. "I owe you for this."

"Yes, you do." Jaenelle stared at the table. "Do you want to tell me why you really left Falonar and Ebon Rih?"

"Not really."

Jaenelle nodded. "Sometimes there's no specific reason," she said softly. "Sometimes things just don't work out between two people."

Are we still talking about me and Falonar?Surreal wondered. Remembering the way Daemon had lingered for a moment, she had an uneasy feeling Jaenelle was thinking of two other people.

2

She waited until Saetan and Lucivar had left the Hall before tracking Daemon to his study. It felt strange walking into that room and seeing another man behind the desk where Saetan had ruled Dhemlan for so many centuries. Even stranger to feel as if nothing had really changed.

"So," she said, settling into the chair in front of the desk. "Do you ever see any rooms in the Hall besides this one?"

"Occasionally," Daemon replied with a dry smile. "Brandy?"

"Sure." She watched him pour a snifter for her and top off his own before he used Craft to float hers over to her waiting hand. "Thanks."

Daemon leaned back in his chair, the snifter cradled in both hands. His Black-Jeweled ring glittered on his right hand. His left hand looked naked without the Consort's ring. Did he miss the feel of it on his finger? She'd noticed that Saetan still wore the Steward's ring, which the loss of his little finger made more noticeable. But she could understand why Daemon had set the Consort's ring aside. Saetan had withdrawn to live at the Keep, leaving his sons… Daemon, specifically… to handle the property owned by the SaDiablo family as well as the wealth acquired over Saetan's long, long lifetime. Daemon, on the other hand, was still very much in sight. He was no longer the Consort, since Jaenelle, while still a Queen, no longer ruled a court.

Of course, only a fool wanting to commit suicide would in any way imply that the absence of a ring made him any less Jaenelle's Consort.

"What are your plans?" Daemon asked quietly. "Or haven't you thought that far ahead?"

"Know anyone who needs an assassin?"

He choked back a laugh. "In Kaeleer? Hardly."

She saw the question in his eyes. "If I'd wanted him dead, Sadi, Falonar wouldn't be breathing. You know that."

His gold eyes stayed locked on hers as he took a sip of brandy. "Point made. Besides, I'm surprised you put up with him this long."

That startled her. "Why?"

"Too much of that Eyrien arrogance for you to swallow for long."

"You have a brother who has even more of that Eyrien arrogance," she pointed out.

"You want to sleep with him?"


Tags: Anne Bishop The Black Jewels Science Fiction