Tangled Webs

the Territories, and we control the lives of all the landens in those Territories. But we are the minority, Jaenelle. Despite the sometimes brutal way we deal with each other, we seldom need to unleash that power and temper against landens because we are feared. Because we are a mystery mostly seen from a distance. And now you are turning us into a cheap entertainment. ”
    He choked. Such a long, long life. So many things that he’d done, both good and terrible.
    “By letting some children dictate what we are like, you turn us into a safe, insignificant fear. Cobwebs and creaking doors and funny sounds. We become something to laugh at. So I ask you, Lady. What happens when those boys who find us amusing become men and feel they can ignore the laws established for the landens? What happens when they challenge the Warlords who come on behalf of the Queens who rule over their villages? What happens when they gather in force to attack the Blood and discover how vicious—and how complete—the slaughter can be when we fight?”
    A long silence. Then Jaenelle said, “Why didn’t you mention this when you first heard about it? You haven’t said anything in the past few weeks while Marian and I have been putting this together.”
    “It wasn’t my place to say anything. And, frankly, it hurt too much that it was you, of all people, who was doing this to us.”
    Another long silence. “My apologies, High Lord,” Jaenelle said quietly. “I didn’t see this as you did, didn’t consider the consequences if people believed this was anything other than make-believe. We’ll close the house. Put an end to it.”
    He shook his head. “You can’t. The idea has already taken root, and the news that Lady Angelline ”—he saw her wince—“is creating a spooky house as an autumnal entertainment has spread to Blood and landen villages alike. I’m sure Daemon and Lucivar will help you control the crowds—”
    “Crowds?” She looked alarmed.
    “And Daemon will handle any complaints from the Queens who are dealing with the visitors flooding into the surrounding villages.”
    “Complaints? Visitors?”
    He crossed his arms over his chest. “What did you expect? Just a handful of children from the landen village where the house is located?”
    “Well…yes.”
    His heart ached with love and exasperation. “Then you really have no idea what you’ve done.” Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Very well, witch-child. I’ll give you your funny sound. But I want a favor in exchange.”
    She tipped her head and waited.
    “Somewhere in your spooky house, let there be one thing that will show those children who and what we really are, that will show them what they face when they stand before the Blood.”
    “Done.”
    “Then let’s find a room that’s a little more private.”
    There were only the two of them in the library, but Geoffrey could return at any moment.
    His face burned with embarrassment as he walked to the door, and he knew that, even with his light brown skin, color visibly flamed his cheeks. He would do this, not just because Jaenelle asked it of him, but because someone else’s sensibilities were at stake.
    “I promise, Papa. No one will know it’s you,” Jaenelle said as she stopped at the door.
    “Thank you,” he replied faintly.
    She looked at him. Then she looked at the table stacked with books. Her lips curved in a wicked smile. “If you want us to keep pretending that you’re sorting old books whenever we come by to chat, you shouldn’t slam them on the table. We all know you wouldn’t do that to a book that was truly ancient and fragile.”
    He closed his eyes and promised himself that he would not whimper. “You all know?”
    “Well, I don’t think any of the boyos have figured it out, but all of the coven knows.”
    May the Darkness have mercy on me.
    “Come on, Papa. Let’s go bwaa ha ha. ”

    Daemon tucked the tip of his tongue between his teeth and bit down hard enough to keep himself from saying something stupid.
    If he’d walked in on his father having sex—when Saetan was still physically capable of having sex—it would have been less embarrassing than hearing that voice say “bwaa ha ha.”
    “What do you think?” Jaenelle asked.
    Eyeing the audio crystal sitting on the corner of his desk, Daemon bit his tongue a little harder and counted to ten—twice—before he said, “It sounds like the High Lord.”
    She studied the audio crystal, clearly