Queen of the Darkness

are penalties for failure," Hekatah said as she stroked his face.
    Knowing what was required, he whispered, "Yes, Priestess."
    "And you did fail me, didn't you, darling?"
    "Y-Yes, Priestess."
    What was left of her lips curved in a smile. Using Craft, she called in a stoppered crystal bottle and a small silver cup. They floated in the air while she removed the stopper and poured the dark, thick liquid into the cup. She closed the bottle and vanished it, then held the cup up to Jorval's lips.
    "I brought you a fresh offering," he said weakly.
    "I saw him. Such a pretty boy, full of the hot sweet wine." She pressed the cup against his lower lip. "I'll get to him shortly."
    Having no choice, Jorval opened his mouth. The liquid slid over his tongue like a long warm slug. He gagged on it, but managed to swallow.
    "Is it poison?" he asked.
    Hekatah vanished the cup and leaned back, her eyes widening in surprise. "Do you really think I would poison a man who's loyal to me? And you are loyal to me, aren't you, darling?" She shook her head sadly. "No, darling, this is just a little aphrodisiac brew."
    "S-Safframate?" He would have preferred poison.
    "Just enough to make the evening interesting," Hekatah replied.
    He sat there, helpless, while she caressed skin that began to quiver at the slightest touch. Groaning, he wrapped his arms around her, no longer noticing the smell of decay, no longer caring about who or what she was, no longer caring about anything except using the female body that was sitting on his lap.
    When he tried to thrust his tongue into her mouth, she pulled back with a satisfied laugh.
    "Now, darling," she said while she caressed him, "you're going to bring one of those whores up here."
    The lust-fog cleared a little. "Up here?"
    "We still have to take care of your punishment," Hekatah said gently, viciously. "Get one that has golden hair and blue eyes."
    The lust became fierce, almost painful. "Like Jaenelle Angelline."
    "Exactly. Think of this as a little rehearsal for the day when that pale bitch has to submit to me." She kissed his temple, licked the throbbing pulse. "Will it excite you if I sip a little blood while you're locked inside her?"
    Jorval stared at her, wildly aroused and terrified.
    "I'll drink from her, too. By then you won't care if you're mounting a corpse, but I won't do that to you, darling. This is just a rehearsal, after all, for the night when you'll have Jaenelle under you."
    "Yes," Jorval whispered. "Yes."
    "Yes," Hekatah echoed, satisfied. She stood up and slowly walked to the bedroom door. "Don't worry about the whore telling anyone about our little game. I'll fog the bitch's mind so that she'll never be certain about anything except that she was well used."
    Rising, Jorval moved unsteadily to the outer door, painfully aware that Hekatah watched him.
    "The pretty boy will be the appetizer and the dessert," Hekatah said. "Fear gives blood such a delightfully piquant taste, and by the end of the evening, he'll be fully ripened. So don't spend too much time making your choice, darling. An appetizer doesn't take long to consume, and if I become impatient, we may have to adjust your punishment. And you wouldn't want that, would you?"
    He waited until the bedroom door closed behind her before whispering, "No, I wouldn't want that."
----
    5 / Kaeleer
    A warm hand gently squeezed his shoulder.
    "Daemon," Lucivar said quietly. "Come on, old son. We've arrived."
    Daemon reluctantly opened his eyes. He wanted to withdraw from the world, wanted to sink into the abyss and just disappear. Soon, he promised himself. Soon. "I'm all right, Prick," he said wearily. It was a lie, and they both knew it.
    Getting stiffly to his feet, Daemon rolled his shoulders. His muscles hummed with tension while a violent headache gathered behind his eyes. "Where are we?"
    Saying nothing, Lucivar guided him out of the Coach.
    Surreal stood just outside the Coach's door, staring up at the massive, gray stone building. "Hell's fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful. What is this place?"
    Prince Aaron grinned at her. "SaDiablo Hall."
    "Oh, shit."
    The ground spun under Daemon's feet. He flung out an arm. Lucivar grabbed him, steadied him. "I can't," he whispered. "Lucivar, I can't."
    "Yes, you can." Holding his arm, Lucivar led him to the double front doors. "It'll be easier than you think. Besides, Ladvarian's been waiting to meet you."
    Daemon didn't have the energy to wonder, much less care, why