Tangled Webs

words out loud. Except that she really didn’t want to say the words out loud.
    «What?» Rainier asked, following her lead.
    «The spiders. The mouse in the glass. I’m pretty sure those spells were made by Tersa.»
    «Are you saying Daemon Sadi’s mother is part of this twisted place? That she’s one of the people trying to kill us?»
    «No! Tersa wouldn’t…» How much did Rainier know about Tersa? He must have met her, but how much did he know? «Someone must have tricked her into creating illusions for this place. She wouldn’t harm children, Rainier. And as sure as the sun doesn’t shine in Hell, she wouldn’t hurt Daemon.»
    «So we’re going to run across things that are weird and creepy but mostly benevolent, while other things are really trying to hurt us?»
    She hesitated.
    «No,» Rainier said softly. «It won’t be that simple. By serving in the Dark Court, I’ve had the privilege of spending time with three of the most brilliant and creative Black Widows in the Realm. So I know, from listening to Jaenelle, Karla, and Gabrielle, that illusion spells and tangled webs can be layered and blended. It doesn’t matter what Tersa intended. A death spell hidden in one of her harmless illusions is still going to kill us.»
    «I know.» Glad that Rainier had retrieved all the weapons, she slipped her stiletto into the sheath in her boot, then picked up the other poker and used it to pry open a cupboard. “Let’s see what else is in here.”

    Spider, spider. Who found the spider?
    Not so brave when someone crippled their power, were they? Not so brave, not so fierce, not so damnably arrogant.
    Maybe he should base a character on the Surreal bitch. After all, even with danger all around them, the Blood would still be hot for some sex.
    Landry Langston could have her for a lover while they were trapped in the haunted house. Hot, fast sex. She’d have to have a climax. Female readers expected that . Landry would get out alive, of course, but not be able to save her from the last trap. Would he regret her loss?
    Or maybe he should show how cruel witches were when they used males. The witch in the story could use Landry, adding another level to his own torment as he tried to find a way out of the house and keep the people trapped inside with him safe. Then, when he had to choose between sacrificing himself in order to save her and getting out of the house alive, he’d be justified in leaving her to the fate she deserved.
    Yes. Leave her behind, as if she were worthless, less than nothing.
    After all, wasn’t that what the Blood had done to him?

    “Six candles,” Rainier said, laying them on the kitchen table. “Too bad I didn’t find any candleholders.”
    “I did.” Surreal set two chipped cups on the table.
    He looked at them, then at her.
    She bit her tongue to keep from calling him an innocent. “I told you—I’ve stayed in places like this at times. You’ve got the matches?”
    He took the matchbox out of his pocket. She held up a candle and waited for him to light the wick. Then she tilted the candle just enough for the wax to drip into one cup. As she started the same process with the other cup, she took another candle, set it in the cooling wax, and lit it.
    When she set the first candle into its “holder,” Rainier lowered the flame in the oil lamp.
    “Hopefully we’ll find more supplies in other rooms, but this will do for now,” Surreal said.
    A sound in the passageway.
    Rainier grabbed one of the pokers and moved toward the sound. She slipped her stiletto out of the boot sheath and waited.
    The children scuffled into the kitchen, looking scared and defiant. She understood both feelings, but right now defiant wasn’t going to make Rainier warm up to them.
    When no one said anything, she walked over to the farthest door and opened it cautiously.
    Nothing fell out or sprang at her. In fact, she had no idea what the little room was used for. She closed that door and tried the next one. Pantry. That was promising—especially when she saw a few canning jars on the shelves. She closed that door too, then tried the last one, on the other side of the kitchen.
    The moment she touched the doorknob, she felt uneasy. “Rainier.”
    He came over and settled into a fighting stance. She opened the door slowly, prepared to resist anything that tried to push it open fast.
    Nothing.
    As she pulled the door all the way open, Rainier took a cautious step forward. Then another.
    “Looks like