Daemonar had done a good job of teaching Zoey how to spar. Too bad he was going to have to knock the boy on his ass for getting hurt.
Surreal solved the problem of Jaenelle Saetien struggling to get away by creating a Gray shield around the two of them that allowed the girl to walk beside her or get knocked down by the moving Gray wall and dragged. The girl needed to get knocked down only once to realize there were no other options.
*Beale,* Surreal called. *What happened after I left to check on the sanctuary?*
His report chilled her, especially the part about Jaenelle Saetien giving her word before witnesses and then breaking her word when Beale stepped in to do his duty, insisting that he back down because he was the butler.
Hell’s fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful.
She used Craft to open the door of Jaenelle Saetien’s bedroom, then let the Gray shield pull the girl into the room with her. She closed the door and dropped the Gray shield around the two of them before she pressed her hand against the wall and created a Gray shield that followed the outer walls of the suite, carefully wrapping the shield around the pipes and plumbing in the bathroom to avoid cutting off the water. Then she leaned against the door and studied the girl, who tried to look defiant but was, in truth, very frightened.
“You don’t have to lock me in,” Jaenelle Saetien said. “I’ll stay here.”
“The High Lord gave me a direct order.” Actually, the Sadist had given her that order, which was far worse. “I’m not going to disobey him or challenge him tonight. Not for anyone.”
“I can explain.”
“I hope so, sugar, because based on the little I saw when I walked in, the best you and the rest of the coven of malice can hope for is being broken back to basic Craft. I suspect some of you will be executed along with the prick-asses who survived the fight with Daemonar.”
Jaenelle Saetien’s eyes widened with shock. “My father would never—”
“You’re not dealing with your father anymore,” Surreal said coldly. “You have to answer to the High Lord of Hell for breaking the promise you made before witnesses.”
“High Lord?” The girl’s voice rose to the point of shrillness. “I didn’t—”
“Prince of the Darkness, High Lord of Hell, Warlord Prince of Dhemlan. Daemon Sadi has held all of those titles since before you were born, but until tonight, very few knew he was the High Lord, that he’d assumed that title when his father became a whisper in the Darkness. Now everyone will know because he will ram that title down everyone’s throat when he starts hunting for the rest of his enemies.”
Jaenelle Saetien stood there, saying nothing.
“We should thank you for this little game,” Surreal said. “We didn’t have enough proof against Krellis, Dhuran, and the other males to convince the Dhemlan Queens that those boys had been breaking young witches deliberately at Delora’s behest. Because of their age, the Prince felt we needed sufficient proof before he executed Krellis and the others. And now he has the proof. The enemy came inside the walls of his home and drugged a young Queen with the intention of raping her body and violating her mind to the point where her inner web would break along with her power.”
“You don’t know that,” the girl said, sounding desperate. “Father doesn’t know that.”
“He will. He will take those boys apart piece by piece, layer by layer, until he knows everything they have done, everyone they have hurt. Every girl each of them has raped. He will find every male connected to Delora, whether that male was here tonight or not, and have them taken to Hell to be questioned. Some will be released. Others will feed the demon-dead, as well as the Dark Realm’s flora and fauna.” Surreal didn’t want to look at the girl anymore, but as Sadi’s second-in-command, she had to fulfill her duties. “You will remain in this room until the High Lord is ready to deal with you.”
“How long will that take?”
“That will depend on the injuries that were sustained by the girls you brought into this house as guests—the ones who were on the list you provided. But you need to understand something, Lady SaDiablo. Daemon and Lucivar have a long and complicated relationship, and Daemon needs his brother more than he needs me or you. If Titian was hurt tonight because you betrayed the family and commanded Beale to allow an enemy into this house, Lucivar will come for you—and Daemon will not stop him. He will grieve the loss of you, but he will not stop the Demon Prince from calling in the debt you owe Titian’s father.”
The girl started to cry. “It was nothing. Everyone lets the boys slip into their parties.”
“Maybe that was true. Maybe that’s why it’s been hard to prove whose cock was used in the rapes that were meant to look like an accident that happened at a party because two youngsters let lust rule instead of their heads. But now that we know everyone connected to Delora and her coven did this little trick, it will be easier to hunt down—and eliminate—the cocks who were responsible for the breaking.” Surreal turned to leave.
“Mother . . .”
“You didn’t want me to be your mother. Didn’t want to be associated with a whore. You made that very clear. You don’t get to change your mind now, just because you want me to stand in front of you.” Surreal looked at the girl she had loved so fiercely from the moment she felt that presence in her womb. “I hope you survive this, Jaenelle Saetien. I truly do. But if you find someone like Delora so compelling that you would betray your family, betray your father, in order to please her, then maybe I stood in front of you too often, trying to keep you safe. That’s all your father and I wanted to do, keep you safe and give you time to grow up. But we failed somehow, and you grew up to be the enemy.”
She walked out of the room and put a Gray lock on the door. She’d arrange for food and water to be brought soon. Right now she needed to help Sadi make a list of the dead.
“Enough,” Lucivar said, vanishing his sparring stick.
“No.” Zoey tried to raise her stick—and couldn’t.
He walked up to Zoey, vanished her sparring stick, and hauled her to her feet. “Witchling, you can’t even stand up by yourself. You’ve had enough for now.”
“It still . . .” She looked up but didn’t meet his eyes. “It still burns inside me.”
“Yeah, it will for a while longer. We’ll get you through it.”
She was exhausted, but with the safframate burning inside her and making her want something her mind and heart didn’t want, she’d still fight his help. He made things simple by dropping the Ebon-gray shield—and the warming spell with it. He created a warming spell around himself, gave her a moment to get hit with the bitter cold air, then picked her up and strode toward the still-open front door of the Hall.
Zoey burrowed into the only warmth available, pressing her face against the chain mail he still wore, trying to work her fingers into the chain in order to hold on.
Wondering why no one had shut the door, he automatically used Craft to step up and walk on air when he crossed the threshold—and hit a cold so savage, the outside air couldn’t compete.
He closed the door. The Black shield snapped back into place.