Ladvarian shot upward, hovering on air so that he was face-to-face with Jaenelle. *The kindred will still fetch your shoes during the moon-days when you can't use Craft, but the rest of the days you can call in your own shoes,* he said happily.
Jaenelle smiled as her hands cupped the Sceltie's furry face. "Yes, I can."
*And you won't have to wear the wrong shoes because we didn't pick the right ones.*
Well, Surreal thought, that explained why Jaenelle's shoes hadn't always matched the rest of her outfit.
"I never said you chose the wrong shoes," Jaenelle said softly.
*You didn't tell us because you love us.*
Jaenelle rested her forehead against the dog's. "Yes, I love you."
Surreal swallowed the lump that was suddenly lodged in her throat. Shit shit shit. Hadn't she learned anything from seeing the kindred's unshakable loyalty and belief in Jaenelle? She had felt pity and had spoiled Jaenelle's pleasure in successfully performing a bit of Craft.
Ladvarian was simply delighted…and had recognized that Jaenelle wasn't regaining a piece of skill that was lost, she was exploring new ground.
*I have to tell Kaelas!* Ladvarian bounded out of the room.
"By tonight, all the kindred who were part of the Dark Court will know you can call in your shoes," Surreal said dryly.
Jaenelle grinned. "Do you think it will take that long?" Then the grin faded. "I thought you were going to stay in Amdarh."
"I came back to talk to you." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly…and hoped she wouldn't see that cold, feral anger leap into Jaenelle's eyes again. "What's wrong between you and Daemon?"
"Nothing you can mend."
Surreal reached out, her fingertips just brushing the sleeve ofjaenelle's robe. "Talk to me. Mother Night, Jaenelle, the man is eating his heart out because he doesn't know why you're pushing him out of your life."
Jaenelle turned away. "For his sake." Her voice was a pained whisper. "So he isn't trapped into staying with a woman he no longer wants just because everyone else expects him to remain loyal."
"Trapped, my ass," Surreal snapped. "You're who he wants. You're who he needs."
"He wanted and needed what I was," Jaenelle snapped back. "But what I am now?" She shook her head.
"Do you still love him?"
"It doesn't matter what I feel."
"Of course it matters! You love him. He loves you. Why are you throwing him out of your life?"
"Look at me!" Jaenelle shouted, jabbing a finger toward her chest. "I'm healed, Surreal. Completely healed. But he can't bring himself to touch me, can't even bear to hold my hand. Why should he be chained to someone who repulses him when he's s-so damn beautiful it hurts just to look at him and remember what it was like when he w-wanted… "
Shocked, Surreal just stood and stared. Then she shook her head. She didn't doubt Jaenelle believed what she said, but that didn't tally up with what Daemon believed.
"Does he know you're completely healed?" Surreal asked. "And by completely, you do mean completely?"
A gleam of anger flashed in Jaenelle's eyes again. "I don't need his pity any more than I need yours."
"So you haven't told him."
"And have him feel obligated to service his former Queen?" Jaenelle smiled bitterly. "I don't think so."
Surreal raked her fingers through her hair. Hell's fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful. If Daemon found out that this was why Jaenelle was pulling away from him, he'd explode six times over. And that was only if he retained a measure of self-control.
Dropping her hands to her hips, she sighed. "All right, sugar. Strip. Let's see what we've got to work with."
Jaenelle stared at her. "What?"
"You heard me. Strip."
Doubt filled Jaenelle's eyes. "I don't think…"
"Good, since you're not thinking straight anyway. Come on. You don't have anything I don't see in the mirror every day."
More hesitation.
"Fine," Surreal said, turning around. "I won't watch." And it will giveme time to brace myself in case there are any nasty surprises.
Silence. Then, finally, the sound of clothes being removed.
"All right," Jaenelle said.
Surreal turned around. Stared. Frowned. Circled slowly to study Jaenelle from the back before continuing the circle until they were facing each other again.
"All right," she said, "I'll play the game. What's wrong with you?"
Jaenelle's mouth dropped open. "Look at me."
"I am. What's wrong with you?"
"I'm…"
"Skinny. You were always slender, but now you're skinny." Surreal tipped her head to one side. "Despite that, you've got a decent pair of tits and a nice ass."
Jaenelle just gaped at her.
She growled in frustration. Jaenelle had picked a lousy time to become sensitive about her appearance. "You need to eat more to fill out a bit, need to start working out to build up and shape your muscles again. Lucivar can help with that."
"He won't," Jaenelle said, looking away. "I asked him. He said no."
"He's going to help. Trust me." Surreal picked up the robe and handed it to Jaenelle. "As for the rest, we're going to Amdarh tomorrow."
"But…"
"I heard of a new place that opened a few months ago. Pure female indulgence. Manicures, pedicures, massages, the works. We can even stay there, so we don't have to bundle all the appointments together. The place even has shops." She held up a hand before Jaenelle could grumble about shopping. "And you're going to get your hair trimmed so that it has some style."
"I was growing it out," Jaenelle protested, one hand reaching up protectively.
"Which doesn't mean you have to look shaggy," Surreal countered. "And, yes, some new clothes. Something that fits. Not a lot since you'll grow back into your former wardrobe, but enough to cover different activities until then." She paused. "And then, once you look like you again instead of a stray wearing hand-me-downs, you'll go to the town house and see Daemon. And you'll tell him in direct, simple words that you are completely healed."
"Then what?"
If you can't guess how Daemon will react to that… She shrugged. "Then you'll know the truth, one way or the other."
Jaenelle sighed. "So what do we do today?"
Surreal gave her friend a knife-edged smile. "I'm going to have a chat with Lucivar."
Smiling, Surreal waved Lucivar into Daemon's study. She put a Gray lock on the door as she closed it, and by the time he turned to face her, she'd called in her crossbow and had it aimed below his belt.
He studied her for a moment, then growled, ''What's this all about? You asked me to come here, so I'm here."
"Yes, you are," Surreal replied, still smiling. "And now I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen. If you don't listen, I'll shoot you with this little crossbow arrow."
"Quarrel."
She shook her head. "We're not going to quarrel. I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen…or I'll pin your balls to the wall." She didn't have any chance of actually hitting him. She wore Gray; he wore Ebon-gray. The moment he sensed the Gray lock on the door, he'd put an Ebon-gray shield around himself. There was nothing she could do that would get an arrow through that shield, but the threat warned him that she wasn't going to let him dismiss what she had to say.
Lucivar shook his head. "It's called a 'quarrel' or a 'bolt,' not a 'little crossbow arrow.' "