That was the mess Daemon had left her with this morning—trying to find a way to explain to a frightened girl why her darling papa had been so angry about the boy parts. Jaenelle Saetien had been more worried about getting Uncle Lucivar into trouble than whatever punishment she might face for failing to tell her father about the incident at the pool—and she’d been worried that she had somehow hurt her papa’s heart.
Which was true.
Surreal vanished the stiletto, grabbed two fistfuls of hair, and pulled gently to ease some of the ache around her skull.
Old memories were bound to start surfacing now that they were this close to Jaenelle Saetien’s Birthright Ceremony.
But old memories weren’t the only things surfacing now, and she didn’t know what to think about that.
Jaenelle Saetien’s new friend was a half-grown Arcerian cat named Kaele. A Warlord Prince who wore a Green Birthright Jewel.
May the Darkness have mercy on me, Daemon thought as the cat put himself between man and girl.
Kaele looked at Daemon and snarled.
Daemon looked at Kaele and snarled—and let his Black power thunder softly through the room, leaving no doubt about who was the dominant male.
“No no no,” Jaenelle said, throwing herself on the cat and clamping both arms around his neck. “Do not snarl at Papa! He won’t let us play if you snarl at him.”
*Why are you here?* Daemon asked on a spear thread.
*To be friends with your kitten,* Kaele replied. *And with you. The Weavers said it was time.*
Mother Night.
There were rules for the wilder kindred to follow when they stayed at the Hall. He just couldn’t remember any of them.
Well, there was the most important one.
“Do not swat anyone or eat anyone without asking me first,” he said.
*I could ask the dogs,* Kaele said, clearly preferring to communicate with other kindred.
“No, you’ll ask me.” He trusted the Scelties for the most part, but the ones who lived at the Hall came from the Sceltie school Jaenelle Angelline and Ladvarian had begun and that he now co-owned with Ladvarian’s descendants. So these dogs were loyal to his family and very protective of his wife and daughter. Usually he was grateful for that, but with the presence of an Arcerian cat, he could see Morghann and Khary happily pointing out a human they didn’t like and putting the label of “dinner” on the fool.
“Are you mad at Uncle Lucivar?” Jaenelle asked in a small voice.
Daemon shook his head. “No, we got that sorted out. But I wish you had told me about it when I was more awake to understand what had happened.”
“I know.” She hugged Kaele’s neck hard enough to produce a grunt from the cat.
Daemon went down on one knee. “Come here, witch-child.”
She released the cat and came to him. Of course, the cat, being a Warlord Prince, came too.
He rested his hands on her shoulders, giving Kaele time to accept that he could touch his own daughter.
“Uncle Lucivar is going to hold you to his rules—and so am I. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, Papa.”
“I’ve seen too many bad things, Jaenelle, and I’m afraid of what I would do if someone hurt you.”
“That’s what Mama said.”
“Your mother is a very smart woman.”
Jaenelle smiled. “She said that too.”
He kissed her cheek and hugged her, as much to reassure her as to comfort himself. As he held her, he sent out a delicate psychic probe. It wouldn’t invade her mind or thoughts, but it would give him a sense of her emotions, of whether she was as easy about seeing a naked man as she seemed to be.
And found something he hadn’t expected.
His daughter was keeping secrets from him.
He eased back and looked at her. Nothing haunted those gold eyes, but something was there. Something, he suddenly realized, that had been there on and off for the past few years—and more so in the past year as she got closer to her Birthright Ceremony.
“I guess I should introduce myself to your other friend,” he said as he rose gracefully.
“You’ll like him.” She gave him an unsure but game smile that made him tremble.
He wasn’t sure he would like this friend, but unless he hated the male on sight, he’d let things slide. At least for today. But before he met this second friend, he wanted to have a word with his wife.
Surreal was still sitting on the sofa in his study, so he didn’t have to hunt for her.
“Hell’s fire,” she said, grinning. “If your father could see the look on your face, he’d laugh himself silly.”
He sank down beside her, feeling boneless. “There is an Arcerian cat in the Hall again.”
“I know. I met him. You need to put strengthening spells on Jaenelle’s bed—and think about getting her a bigger bed if he’s intending to be a frequent visitor.”
“Since he’s in the stables, I’m assuming her other friend has fur and boy parts?”
“He does. He also has a spiral horn—and his name is Moondancer. He can trace his bloodlines back to a Warlord Prince named Kaetien.”
Daemon heard the wobble in her voice. He turned his head and studied her, seeing enough in her eyes before she looked away.
He cupped her face in his hands. “Talk to me, Surreal. What do you know?”
“About what?”
Shaky. Of course, this whole day must have stirred up memories for her too.
“Jaenelle Saetien is keeping secrets. Even if she had a reason for not telling me, she might have told you.”
“Let it go, Sadi.”
“I can’t. Not today.”
Surreal pulled away. He released her face but closed one hand around her wrist.
“Surreal,” he said gently. He could see her struggling to decide what to tell him.
“A special friend,” she finally said. “A secret friend. Someone she’s known ‘forever,’ which I take to mean these past few years.”
“How could someone have slipped into the Hall without our being aware of it?”
“No one could. But she doesn’t see this friend here at home. She meets this friend in dreams.”
Daemon forgot how to breathe. “Have you asked . . . ?”
Surreal shook her head. “She was upset about telling me. She didn’t want to break Lucivar’s rules, especially now that she knew how upset it would make you, but she didn’t want to tell me because it wasn’t time for us to know about this friend. So I told her it was all right to keep the secret for a while longer.”
She meets this friend in dreams.
He didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to feel.
“Daemon?” Surreal wrapped her hand around his other wrist. “Aren’t you wondering?”
He felt dizzy, off balance. “About something in particular? I’ve wondered about too much already today.”
“The wild kindred races withdrew from most human contact decades ago. Even most of the wolves don’t talk to us directly; they maintain contact with the two packs who have stayed connected to the family. Now there’s an Arcerian cat descended from Kaelas visiting here. There is a unicorn descended from Kaetien. The Scelties who live with us now are named Morghann and Khary, and we didn’t name them. Are a tiger and dragon going to show up in the next few weeks?”
He rested his forehead against hers. “You think this has something to do with Jaenelle’s special friend?”
“I don’t know, but what I’m wondering is this: What do the kindred know that we don’t?”