Tangled Webs

anyone to know I was in that part of a Territory, I would stay in an abandoned place like this for a few days.”
    Sometimes she preferred secrecy to staying at a Red Moon house and providing services as a whore, which had been her other profession—until her recently acquired male relatives calmly told her that any male who got into her bed from now on had better be there for her pleasure or he would live just long enough to regret using his cock. So that ended that career. All right, she’d already walked away from that part of her life even before she came to Kaeleer, but it was still annoying to be told she was retired.
    Becoming aware of the silence, she turned away from the portrait and found seven children staring at her.
    “You kill people?” the youngest girl asked.
    “I was an assassin,” Surreal replied cheerfully. “And a damn good one. I know all kinds of death spells.”
    «That might have been a little more than they needed to know,» Rainier said.
    Since they were looking at her the way a rabbit looks at a wolf, Rainier was probably right. On the other hand, they would probably want to stay away from her and would attach themselves to him during the tour, and that was all right too.
    Then she looked at Rainier. His expression strongly suggested that she soften her statement.
    “But I’m retired now,” Surreal said. “I don’t kill people anymore.” At least, not for money. “I’m Lady Surreal, and this is Prince Rainier.”
    “Those are funny names,” the oldest boy said.
    “Really?” Rainier sounded like he was gritting his teeth hard enough to break a few.
    «You were the one who invited them to join us,» Surreal said, earning a searing look from Rainier before she focused on the children. “So who are you?”
    The oldest boy, the one she’d labeled the dominant cock, was Kester. His friend was Trist. The other boys were Haywood, who was called Henn for reasons she didn’t understand, and Trout, whose face reddened when the other boys sneered at him, but who gave her a polite bow nonetheless.
    The bitch was named Ginger. Her pal, the aspiring bitch, was Dayle. The youngest girl was Sage.
    «Is it common for landens to name their children after foods and spices?» Surreal asked Rainier.
    «I don’t know. Maybe their mothers were hungry when they had to choose a name. Or they could be lying about their names because they think it’s amusing.»
    A door slammed. The house shuddered.
    “I’ll check,” Surreal said, crossing the room, her hand curled in just the right way if she needed to call in her stiletto. But when she reached the sitting room doorway, there was only the caretaker in the hallway, turning away from the closed front door.
    “So discourteous,” he muttered as he walked past her. “So disobedient. Not what I expected.”
    “When does this tour begin?” Surreal asked him.
    He didn’t stop, didn’t turn. “Find the first clue, and you’ll know what to do,” he snapped. He slammed through a door at the end of the hallway.
    She was trying to be tolerant of this place because it was Jaenelle and Marian’s idea, but she was going to talk to them about that little bastard. Performance or not, if he tried that pissing contest with the wrong Blood male, he would end up very very dead.
    And speaking of Blood males…
    She headed for the front door.
    “Anything?” Rainier asked as he stepped into the sitting room doorway.
    “I’m going to check for late arrivals,” Surreal said. “You look for the first clue. It must be in the sitting room, since we were directed there by that little piece of walking carrion.”
    “Surreal.” Rainier tipped his head to indicate the children.
    She turned and gave him a look that had him backing up a step. Then she yanked the front door open—and stared at the brick wall in front of her. She reached out cautiously, sure her hand would pass through the illusion—or trigger something “spooky.” But it was solid brick against her palm.
    “Hell’s fire,” she muttered. “Guess we don’t leave through the same door we entered.” And now that the door was closed, that smell in the hallway was getting stronger—and more familiar.
    Near the stairs. But where…?
    Using a few drops of her Birthright Green power, she created a ball of witchlight—and frowned as a gong sounded somewhere in the house. But the sound was forgotten when the light revealed a door under the stairs. No obvious knob, but there had to be a latch