He swallowed his anger, let it burn away the affection that had existed since the moment that girl had been born.
The presence of those pricks confirmed the true nature of this party—and proved the threat against Lady Zoela tonight was very real. And the threat was in this house because a girl who had been loved and protected all her life had chosen to break her word and put other girls in danger.
“What do we do?” Holt asked quietly.
“I don’t take orders from that child,” Beale growled. “I serve the Prince of the Darkness, the High Lord of Hell.”
Holt’s eyes widened because he’d said the words aloud, and the newer footmen-in-training sucked in a breath. But Beale knew this . . . betrayal . . . would strip away the last illusion about the man who ruled Dhemlan and ruled this house—and ruled so much more.
“We lock the Hall,” he said. “Those intruders got in, but they aren’t getting out until the High Lord returns.”
He moved toward the front door, his strides measured. He called in an old seal that bore the SaDiablo crest, fit it into a metal circle embedded in the door’s wood, and turned the seal to the right. As seal and circle moved, the spells Daemon Sadi had woven into the Hall engaged, and Black shields flowed through all the outer walls of SaDiablo Hall—flowed through stone to prevent anyone from using Craft to pass through a wall; flowed over windows, whether they were open or closed, forming bars that were felt but not seen; locked every door that would allow anyone to leave the building; and wove power over the rooftops and inner courtyards, creating something like a steel mesh that would allow nothing to escape by going skyward.
People could still enter, but no one could leave now. Not even him.
“I’ll put a Red shield on the staircase that’s in the informal sitting room,” he said. “And engage the shields in the interior walls of that sitting room and the room beyond it.”
Holt called in another seal and held it up. “I’ll slip around to the other side of the formal sitting room and engage the shields in those walls.”
“It’s possible some of them have already slipped out for whatever they intend to do here,” Beale said. Whatever they intended? As if anyone now believed there were other intentions.
“You should wake the other security Prince Sadi left in your care,” Holt replied.
Before he could give the footmen his orders, the sitting room door opened and Lady Zoela and Lady Titian walked out, followed by their friends. But not all the girls Beale had identified as belonging to Zoela’s unofficial court were present.
Holt was right. It was time to wake the other security and have them capture the wandering guests.
“Ladies,” Beale said quietly. “I think it best if I escort you to your rooms.”
“Could we have something to eat first?” Zoela asked. “Or fix up some plates to take with us?” She glanced at one of her friends. “And use the nearest water closet?”
Two of the younger footmen had been posted at the dining room door and hadn’t reported any trouble, so it should be safe for the Ladies to stay there long enough to eat. And one of the girls did look distressed. He assigned two of the senior footmen who had been in the great hall to escort that girl to the nearest necessary and then stand guard inside the dining room while the younger footmen remained at the door.
He escorted Lady Zoela and the other girls to the dining room. A psychic probe detected no one else in the room and nothing seemed to be amiss when he opened the door and scanned the serving dishes arranged on a long table. After telling the footmen not to allow anyone else in the dining room except the one girl who would be escorted by the senior footmen, Beale hurried to the informal sitting room, engaged the interior defenses that would keep the intruders confined, then headed for the butler’s pantry to summon the Scelties—and release the cats.
When something more feral than cold rage shivered through the sitting room across from the Queen’s suite, Karla looked up from the story she’d been reading aloud. “What’s wrong?”
Witch’s sapphire eyes had that distant look of someone seeing something beyond the immediate room. She tilted her head as if trying to locate a sound.
“Blood sings to blood,” she said softly. “Titian has engaged the gift Daemonar asked me to make so that he would hear her when she couldn’t call for help any other way.”
“But she’s at a house party at the Hall, isn’t she?” Karla rose and dropped the book on the chair. “Sadi should be there.”
“And still Titian is calling her brother for help.”
Which meant Sadi wasn’t at the Hall for some reason—or Daemon’s temper had snapped the leash and he was the danger.
“Daemonar isn’t answering,” Witch said. “I’d feel him if he answered.”
“Maybe he’s beyond her reach.”
“But not mine, and as long as he’s within my reach, he’ll hear her call.”
“Unless he’s riding the Winds.”
Witch nodded.
“Do we wait?” Karla asked.
“No,” Witch said in that midnight, cavernous, sepulchral voice that seemed to rise from somewhere deep in the abyss. “I’ll send the other weapons.”
I promised, Jaenelle Saetien thought as rising panic made her stomach churn. I made a promise before witnesses. And she’d broken it. Why had she broken it? Why had she said that to Beale about him being a servant? He must be so angry with her. And when her father found out!
She shivered as she looked at Delora talking with Krellis as if nothing had happened, as if everything was going to be all right and they would receive nothing more than a slap on the wrist for being naughty.
I’m in so much trouble.
When she was around Delora, her father’s rules didn’t seem to matter. Seemed archaic. Moth and flame. That was what she and Delora were. Moth and flame. Delora was so compelling and exciting and knowledgeable about everything aristo and was so different from her own family, who were so hampered by duty they seemed stodgy in comparison. Not that she didn’t love her father and uncle, but in some ways, they were such rubes who weren’t interested in the excitement that could be found in the city and in things that were new.
Now she wondered if the boys really had come to the Hall uninvited or if Delora and Hespera had arranged for them to be there, and that was why Delora had pushed her to convince her father to let the party continue.
Now she wondered how the boys had known when to arrive, slipping into the Hall so soon after her father had left.
She walked up to Delora and Krellis at the same time Hespera joined them, smiling as if she knew a particularly delicious, and nasty, joke.
“Tacita is such a flirt,” Hespera said. “She can turn anyone’s head and have him standing at attention.”
Jaenelle Saetien stared. Was Hespera saying that Tacita was trying to arouse someone who worked at the Hall? That she had aroused . . . ? “The boys have to leave. Now.” Before there is no way to fix this.
“Don’t be such a sniveling little girl,” Hespera said. “Or does the butler still wipe your little nose—and other things?”
She turned on the other girl. “Shut up, Hespera.”
Delora waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “Stop being such a rube, Jaenelle Saetien. Your father isn’t going to do anything because a few of the boys came to the party.”
Had Delora really said that? Did she really think that? “I agreed that Beale would be in charge and would act on my father’s behalf. I gave my word. And Beale told the boys to leave.”