Dreams Made Flesh

living when this is done."
    Zhara's light-brown skin turned gray. "What are you talking about?"
    Lucivar swore. "He's a Warlord Prince. Someone tried to hurt his Queen. What do you think is going to happen?"
    "It was an accident."
    "You believe that if you want to. You seem willing to believe a lot of things lately."
    Before Zhara could reply, they all heard the quiet clink of glass against glass. She glanced toward the sitting room…and the two women left with more speed than dignity.
    Lucivar closed the front door, then leaned against it for a moment. He didn't want to walk into that sitting room, but someone had to dance with the Sadist, and it looked like it was going to be him.
    Taking a deep breath, and hoping he wasn't about to make Marian a widow, he walked into the sitting room and closed the door.
    "Brandy?" Daemon asked as he filled a snifter halfway.
    "Sure." Lucivar walked toward his brother, watching for any sign that things would turn lethal. Daemon sounded calm, but that didn't mean a damn thing.
    Daemon poured brandy into another snifter and handed it to Lucivar.
    "I was willing to let it go," Daemon said softly. "I told myself it was just words. Some petty bitch sees a male she wants and goes after him in one way or another. How many times had we watched that game played out in Terreillean courts over the centuries?"
    "Too many," Lucivar said, wishing he could test the brandy for poison… and knowing the insult would probably get him killed. "Hell's fire, when that little Rihlander was planning to trap me a few years ago, I exiled the bitch."
    "Just exile? Did you have a weak moment, Prick?" Daemon's smile was still on the chilling side, but not quite on the killing edge anymore.
    Lucivar shrugged. "At the time, killing her would have caused more problems."
    Daemon nodded and took a large swallow of brandy. "If this game had stayed focused on me, I would have let it go. Jaenelle didn't believe the rumors, and I don't give a damn what anyone else thinks." He looked away. "And I thought, if it got physical, I would be the target."
    "You were in that carriage, too."
    "But I'm not the one who was supposed to get hurt. It happened fast, Lucivar. We'd been using that same cab all afternoon. Anyone following us would have had time to put a spell on it…or at least prepare the spell for a fast strike. The way the cab rolled… It was too fast, too violent. Had to be Craft-enhanced. Which means someone hoped Jaenelle would be hurt."
    "In order to have you." He could see it too clearly. A shield would have protected her from broken glass or wood, but being thrown around in a rolling cab could have resulted in a damaged neck or spine. Jaenelle could have been crippled, perhaps forever, just when she was starting to reclaim her life.
    "In order to have me," Daemon agreed.
    "So what are we going to do?"
    "Whoever caused the accident killed the driver but didn't finish the kill. I have him. After he makes the transition to demon-dead, he may be able to tell me something."
    "You have plenty of experience in finishing the kill and none when it comes to dealing with someone newly demon-dead."
    "So?"
    "Why not take the cab driver to the one person who does know how to deal with the demon-dead?" Lucivar took a swallow of brandy. "If you don't tell Father about what happened today, he's going to kick your ass. You know that."
    The room went cold. "Do you think he can?"
    Hell's fire. No. "Jaenelle is his Queen, too, Bastard. If she's in danger, he needs to be told."
    The temperature in the room eased closer to normal.
    "I don't want to leave Jaenelle," Daemon finally said.
    "Then I'll take the driver to the Keep."
    "All right."
    "And after we find out whatever the driver knows?"
    Daemon watched the brandy as he gently swirled the snifter. "Jaenelle wants to help me find whoever is behind the rumors. I'm not happy about that, but I understand the need. If I try to keep her away from everything that might hurt her, I'll smother her…and I'll lose her. She won't stay if she's thought of as less than what she was."
    "She is less than what she was." Lucivar shrugged, ignoring the skitter of nerves down his spine at the way Daemon looked at him. "But she'll never discover what she can do if we keep standing in the way."
    "Exactly." Daemon sighed. "There's a party in three days. One of those mind-numbing affairs. So Jaenelle and I will play out a little game at the party. Maybe we'll even find out something. Either way, I