Tangled Webs

with me, Daemon.”
    He brushed his fingers over the sleeve of her gown—and still wasn’t sure if he was touching something real. “That’s all?”
    She took the step that erased the distance left between them. Then she touched her lips to his in a kiss that was as warm as a dream and as soft as a wish.
    “For the spooky house, yes, that’s all.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and added a little more heat to the kiss. “Afterward, we can have a late supper and a quiet evening alone to do whatever kind of dancing you want.”
    Heat flashed through his blood before he got himself under control again. “Promise?”
    She smiled and linked her hand with his as she took a step back. “Promise.”

TWENTY-EIGHT
     
     
    S urreal had plenty to say to the man who walked into the sitting room.
    “You have to talk to your brother.”
    “I talk to my brother all the time,” Daemon said mildly. He crossed the room and stood next to the footstool in front of her chair.
    “I mean it, Sadi. He’s being unreasonable.”
    “ Lucivar is being unreasonable? How can you tell?”
    Smug, arrogant bastard. He was laughing at her.
    “You don’t know what it’s like,” she grumbled. “He comes here every day— every single day —and stares at me like I’m a roast and he’s checking to see if I’m done.” Which, she’d discovered, was exactly what Lucivar was doing. “He showed up earlier today and said that, after Winsol, I have to go to Ebon Rih and work with him to hone my fighting skills—especially defensive tactics.”
    Sadi looked politely interested, but it was hard to tell if his brain was really in the room.
    “He said I can stay at The Tavern down in Riada, and he’ll pay for room and board—as if I can’t afford to pay for my own room—but if I get bitchy about this, he’ll chuck me into a guest room at the eyrie and put shields around the room to make sure I stay there. And he’ll chuck Daemonar in there with me. That’s blackmail.”
    “No, darling,” Daemon said. “Blackmail would be telling you that if you don’t agree to Lucivar’s terms, you will not only have to deal with him but with the rest of the males in the family who are unhappy because you got hurt. And that includes Chaosti.”
    Shit shit shit. Chaosti was the Warlord Prince of the Dea al Mon. Kin on her mother’s side. Chaosti would be just as bad as Lucivar. Maybe worse.
    Not worse. No one could be worse than Lucivar. Not individually. But if they ganged up on her…
    “You’re as useful as a bucket of piss,” she growled.
    Daemon just smiled. “Rainier is equally thrilled. He’ll be joining you. You can whine together in the evenings.”
    She considered several extremely vile things to say to and about him, but he held out a white box tied with gold ribbon and she decided to wait and see if the bribe was worth holding her tongue.
    “Chocolate fudge,” Daemon said.
    Hell’s fire. She’d even be nice to Lucivar today for a box of fudge.
    “If you don’t want it…”
    “You try to leave with that box, you’ll be leaving without all of your skin.”
    Daemon grinned. “That’s the witchling we all love. Now I know you’re feeling better.”
    “Bastard.”
    He laughed and handed her the box. Then he handed her a familiar-sized envelope. “I’m delivering these in person.”
    Her hands trembled as she opened the envelope and read the invitation to the premier showing of Jaenelle and Marian’s spooky house.
    “You don’t have to go,” Daemon said gently. “We’ll understand.”
    “I’ve seen worse, I’ve lived through worse, and I’ve done worse. I’d like to see what Jaenelle and Marian had intended. Maybe that will help erase the perversion of the other one.”
    She hadn’t been sure she’d say anything, but as soon as she returned to Amdarh, she’d made it her business to find out everything she could about Jarvis Jenkell and the trap he had set for the SaDiablo family.
    “I heard the house burned,” she said, trying to sound casual—and hoping she was the only one who could hear the thunder of her heart beating. “Witchfire, wasn’t it?”
    He said nothing. Just looked at her with eyes that were suddenly a little glazed, a little sleepy.
    “Was Jenkell still alive when the fire took the house?” she asked.
    Still nothing. Then, “Why do you think I would know?”
    “You’d know, Sadi. You would know.”
    He studied her for a long moment. Then he took that last step,