Anne Bishop - Queen of Darkness

”The hut’s lost,” she said, waving her hand in a vague gesture.

He came closer, his eyes full of suspicion and doubt. ”Answer me, bitch. Why are you out here?”

”The hut’s lost,” she repeated, doing her best to imitate the way Tersa’s mind tended to meander. She pointed. ”It should be near that fuzzy post, but it wandered off.”

The sentry looked in that direction. ”That’s a tree, you stupid bitch. Now-” He stopped, raked her body with his eyes, then smiled. Looking around to make sure no one else was nearby, he reached for her.

She took a step back, placed a protective hand over her abdomen, and shook her head. ”Can’t touch another male. He’ll get mad at me if I touch another male.”

The sentry gave her an evil grin. ”Well, he’s not going to know, is he?”

Surreal hesitated. That would certainly get her close enough to ram a knife between his ribs, but it would also take time she didn’t have. The Gray Jewels then, and a fast kill-and may the Darkness help Sadi with whatever was going to happen in the camp afterward.

Down, Surreal!

She felt hind legs brush against her back as she dove.

A moment later, the sentry lay dead, his throat torn out.

A sight shield faded, revealing the blood-splashed wolf.

”Graysfang?” Surreal whispered. She touched the Jewel beneath her shirt. Gray’s fang. The High Lord had been right.

Skirting the dead sentry, she reached for the wolf.

Wait,Graysfang said.

That’s when she saw the small golden bump between his ears. The bump lifted, floated to the nearest perimeter stake, and uncurled its legs.

Surreal stared at the small gold spider as it busily spun a simple tangled web between two of the stakes. When it was done, it picked its way to the center of the web.

The sentry vanished. There was no trace of blood on the ground.

They will not find him now,Graysfang said. They can only see what the web lets them see.He gently closed his teeth around Surreal’s arm and started tugging her.

”What about the spider?”

She will stay to guard the web. Hurry, Surreal.

She shook her arm free of his teeth. It would be easier to keep up with him if she wasn’t hunched over. Switching to a communication thread, she asked, What are you doing here? How did you get through the perimeter stakes?

Humans are foolish. The meat trail is unguarded. Too many legs moving on the trail. The humans got tired of baring their fangs when it was only meat.

Meat trail? Oh, game trail. How did you know about the trail? How did you find me?

The Weaver of Dreams told me to learn the two-legged cat’s scent and follow his tracks. He is a good hunter,Graysfang added with approval. There is much feline in him. Kaelas says so.

Sadi, with the predatory grace even the kindred recognized. Graysfang had followed Sadi. Who’s this Weaver?She got a quick image of a large golden spider-and stumbled.

Damn fool of an idiot wolf. It was bad enough that he had gone to Arachna and brought a small spider back with him. But to deal with the Queen…

She asked me, Surreal,Graysfang said meekly when she snarled at him. It’s a bad thing to refuse the Weaver.

Surreal gritted her teeth and picked up the pace. We’ll talk about it later.

As soon as she saw the game trail, she recognized the place. This was where Daemon had brought them through the camp’s perimeter. I couldn’t have found this place again by myself.

You have a small snout,the wolf said kindly. You cannot smell tracks.

Surreal looked at Graysfang-at Gray’s fang-and smiled.

”Let’s go,” she whispered. ”Do you know the way to the shack?”

I know.

An hour later, she, Marian, Daemonar, and Graysfang were riding the Red Wind to the Keep.

”I think it’s time we had a little talk,” Hekatah said, trying to smile coyly at Daemon.

”Really?”

Oh, the arrogance, the surliness, the meanness in that voice. If his father had been even half the man the son was…

”It takes so long for a Realm to recover from a war, it would be foolish to go through with it if it can be avoided,” she said, reaching up to caress his face as she wove a seduction spell around him.

He stepped back. ”Don’t ever touch me without my permission,” he snarled softly. ”Not even Jaenelle is allowed to touch me without my permission.”

”And she submits?”

He smiled that cold, brutal smile. ”She submits to a great many things-and begs for more.”

Hekatah looked into his glazed eyes and shivered with excitement. The air was filled with the earthy tang of sex. She had him. He just didn’t know it yet. ”A partnership would serve us both well.”

”But you already have a partner, Hekatah-one I will not deal with in any way.”

She waved a hand dismissively. ”She can be taken care of easily enough.” She paused. ”Darling Dorothea hasn’t been sleeping well. I think I’ll give her a little cup of something that will help.”

He stared at her with those glazed eyes, a man aroused to the point of being frightening-and terribly exciting.

”In that case…” Daemon’s hands cupped her face. His lips brushed against hers.

She was disappointed by the gentleness-until he really kissed her. Mean, dominating, unforgiving, demanding, painfully exciting.

But she was demon-dead. Her body couldn’t respond that way, couldn’t…

She drowned in that kiss, staggered by sensations her body hadn’t felt in centuries.

He finally raised his head.

She stared at him. ”How… It isn’t possible.”

”I think we’ve just proved that’s a lie,” Daemon crooned. ”I punish women who lie to me.”

”Do you?” Hekatah whispered, swaying. She couldn’t look away from the cruel pleasure in his eyes. ”I’ll take care of Dorothea.”

He kissed her again. This time she felt the mockery in the gentleness. There was nothing gentle about him. Nothing.

”I’ll take care of Dorothea,” she said again. ”And then we’ll be partners.”

”And I promise you, darling,” Daemon purred, ”you’re going to get everything you deserve.”

Dorothea woke up late in the morning and groaned at the pain in her belly. It felt like a year’s worth of moontime cramps had settled in her gut. She couldn’t get sick now. Couldn’t. Maybe a cup of herbal tea or some broth. Hell’s fire, she was cold. Why was she so damn cold?

Shivering, she dragged herself out of bed-and fell.

After the shock came fear as she remembered the brew Hekatah had made for her last night. To help her sleep. What had she been thinking of not to test something that came from Hekatah’s hand?

She hadn’t been thinking. Hadn’t…

That bitch. That walking piece of carrion must have used a compulsion spell on her to get her to drink it-and then to forget that she’d been ordered to drink it.

Her muscles constricted, twisted.

Not sick. Poisoned.

She needed help. She needed…

Her cabin door opened and closed.

Gasping from the effort, she rolled onto her side and stared at Daemon Sadi.

”Daemon,” she whimpered, trying to hold out a hand toward him. ”Daemon… help…”

He just stood there, studying her. Then he smiled. ”Looks like witchblood was part of last night’s little brew,” he said pleasantly.