Eleven
Lektra dropped her cup, oblivious of the tea seeping into the white tablecloth as she twisted around to stare at the two women seated at the next table in the dining house.
"I…I beg your pardon," Lektra stammered. "I didn't mean to overhear your conversation, but… Daemon Sadi is getting married?"
The woman Lektra recognized as the Priestess in Zhara's First Circle nodded. "Lady Angelhne and Prince Sadi came to Lady Zhara's court this morning and announced they were going to marry in a month."
"But I… I thought Lady Angelline was an invalid." Lektra gripped the back of her chair so the other women wouldn't see her hands shaking.
Looking puzzled, the Priestess shook her head. "I don't know where you heard that, but she's not an invalid, although she looks like she's still recovering from her injuries." She paused. "There were some disturbing rumors about Prince Sadi's fidelity, but he was very solicitous with his Lady, doing and saying everything one would expect of an ardent lover."
"Perhaps doing and saying it too well?" the Priestess's companion asked.
The Priestess gave her friend a sharp look. "He was concerned for her well-being…as he should be."
Lektra forced herself to smile and turn away just as a waiter hurried to her table to vanish the soiled tablecloth, replace it with a clean one, and bring her another cup of tea. As much as she wanted to hear about her unfaithful lover's performance while he'd been visiting Zhara's court, it wouldn't do to make anyone wonder about her interest.
She picked at the meal she'd ordered, no longer taking pleasure in the food, too aware of the women at the other table. Finally, feeling too ill to continue pretending, she paid for her meal and hurried out of the dining house, wanting nothing more than the sanctuary of her own home.
"What's wrong with that bitch?" Lektra snarled as she paced her sitting room. "Doesn't she have any pride? She must have heard that he's been unfaithful to her. She should have severed whatever ties still hold him to her."
Roxie, curled in one corner of the sofa, selected another chocolate from the large box on the table. "Have you seen her?" She made a disgusted sound. "Even if he was unfaithful and having sex with six other women every day, she wouldn't let Daemon go if he's still willing to service her. What other man would want her?"
"But he's going to marry her!" Lektra's hands clenched. "He's supposed to want me. He's supposed to love me." How dare he disappoint her when she was counting on having the strongest, most beautiful man in the Realm as her lover? How could he even think of staying with Jaenelle when she loved him so desperately?
Roxie frowned. "Maybe we can give him a reason to walk away from her."
Or maybe it's time to take a more direct approach to the problem. "I'm going out," Lektra said, hurrying toward the door. Her Summer-sky Jewels were strong enough for what she had in mind. And with luck, there would be some tragic news for people to discuss over dinner tonight.
Wrapping one arm around Jaenelle, Daemon tucked her closer to his right side as the horse-drawn cab headed out of the shopping district.
Jaenelle said, "We could…"
"No."
"But…"
"Enough."
She studied him with narrowed eyes. "You've got that bossy I'm-a-Warlord-Prince-so-I'm-right tone in your voice."
"No, I've got that I'm-a-Warlord-Prince-who-is-your-adoring-loving-husband tone in my voice."
"Sounds like bossy from where I'm sitting."
"Must be the acoustics in the cab." He smiled as he kissed her frown-wrinkled forehead. "Sweetheart, you're exhausted. We've paid a courtesy call to Zhara and been seen in several shops today. That's enough. You need to rest." He paused. "Hell's fire, I need to rest."
She considered that for a moment. "What did you have in mind?"
Several things, but he'd take them in order. "Tucking into the sitting room for the rest of the afternoon. If you're a good little witch and nibble on some food to make up for what you didn't eat at midday, I'll read to you."
"That's bribery," Jaenelle grumbled.
"And your point is?"
"It's a good bribe."
Daemon grinned, then looked out the window when the cab stopped. "Streets are crowded today."
"What else is on your mind?"
He sighed. Of course she'd noticed his preoccupation at the last two shops they'd visited. Taking her left hand in his, he dropped the sight shield on his wedding ring for a moment. The brief sight of it warmed him, soothed him.
"Maybe we should let this go," he said quietly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.
"Someone tried to ruin your reputation and isolate you socially from the rest of the Blood," Jaenelle pointed out.
"Someone wanted you to turn away from me. You didn't. Nothing else matters." The cab started forward. "I don't give a damn if the Blood in Amdarh accept me or not."
"If someone wants you enough to hurt you…"
The driver cried out. The horse screamed and bolted.
Daemon had enough time to throw a Black shield around both of them before the horse veered sharply. The sound of wood snapping…
"Air!" Jaenelle shouted.
… then the cab tipped, crashing on its side before continuing a sickening flip with unnatural speed until it smashed against walls of power.
The inside of the cab was a dazzle of colors…Green, Rose, Summer-sky, Purple Dusk, Red, Sapphire.
As the cab came to rest, Daemon blinked to clear his vision. The colors danced around them a moment longer before they faded…and he realized they were floating in the middle of the cab. He had automatically created a tight, defensive shield that would have protected them from invasive harm, but they would have been thrown around the inside of the cab. Jaenelle's bubble shield had provided a better cushion.
Shattered glass and thrusting spikes of broken wood littered the cab's roof, which was now beneath them.
He wasn't aware he'd risen to the killing edge, wasn't aware of the freezing rage flooding him until Jaenelle said quietly, "Leash it, Prince. They just want to help."
He stared at her, working through what she was telling him, what she was demanding from him. He wanted to rip flesh from bone, wanted to crush the minds surrounding the cab. He wanted to wash Amdarh's streets in a river of blood.
"Daemon," Jaenelle said.
"For you," he crooned. "Only for you."
With effort, he chained the desire to strike out with lethal intent as the cab door opened, revealing worried male faces. The air bubble shrank around them. In the space of a heartbeat, he dropped the Black shield around them and reformed tight shields around each of them. Then he shifted until he could crouch among the shattered glass and shards of wood and help the Warlords reaching into the cab to guide Jaenelle, still floating on air, through the door.
As Daemon emerged from the cab, he noticed how the males had formed a protective circle around Jaenelle, noted the distress and angei in all of their faces.
"Where's the driver?" he asked too softly.
"Over there," a Warlord said, pointing to another cluster of males.
The males near the driver backed away as he approached. He looked down at the man sprawled in the street, testing with a delicate psychic probe.
Physically dead but not burned out.
He put a Black shield around the driver and vanished the body, ignoring the startled exclamations of the other men. The Warlords surrounding Jaenelle watched him with fear in their eyes. Jaenelle just watched him.
Her presence was the tiny spark of warmth in a world that had gone sweetly, deadly cold. So he held on to that spark while he led his Lady to one of the carriages offered for their use…and he held himself in the eye of a storm that he would either dissipate… or unleash on Amdarh.