Twilight's Dawn

invitation he’d accepted, the one that seemed to offend Surreal for some inexplicable reason, had scratched at memories of being a pleasure slave. Instead of bringing some comfort, the sex had left him feeling dangerously mean. Because he knew too well what the Sadist wanted to do to that woman, Beale now had strict orders to keep the bitch out of the Hall, and Holt, his secretary, now checked the guest list for her name before accepting any invitations on behalf of his Prince.
    Pushing aside his personal life, Daemon considered his duties. “When you decided to retire from the living Realms, you taught me what I needed to know to take over the family estates and fortune. Are you going to teach me what I need to know about Hell, or is that something I’m expected to learn for myself?”
    Saetan studied him for a long moment. “I’ll teach you. It’s the least I can do for my heir.”

FOUR

    “ W ould you like to hold her?” Marian asked.
    “No,” Surreal said quickly. Maybe. Where was this yearning to hold a baby coming from? “I think my mother would have been flattered that you named your daughter Titian.”
    “And you?”
    “I’m . . .” She sighed. “As the Shaladoran people say, my heart is too full for words.”
    Marian smiled at Surreal. Then she looked at Titian. “This little bundle is asleep, and Daemonar will be in school for a couple more hours. Why don’t we go into the kitchen? I seem to be outeating my men since the birth. It’s a little scary.”
    Surreal laughed softly as they walked from the parlor to the kitchen. Having arrived in time to help clean up the carnage Lucivar and Daemonar called breakfast, she didn’t think anyone could outeat those two, but she’d been told to encourage any desire Marian had for food.
    Setting the baby’s basket at one end of the kitchen table, Marian rummaged in the cold box.
    “Looks like there’s a couple good servings left of this vegetable casserole. And there’s a beef soup, and . . .” Marian looked over her shoulder. “Just tell me what you have a taste for. I can probably find it in one of these dishes.”
    Surreal looked at the overflowing counters and the cold box that didn’t have room left in it for a spoon. “Is it traditional to provide this much food to a new mother’s family? Seems a little excessive.”
    “How many dishes did you bring with you this morning?” Marian asked.
    She set her teeth in a smile. “I suggested waiting a week to send the offerings from the Dea al Mon, the Hall, and my house. I was overruled—and anyone who thinks hearth witches are gentle, fuzzy-hearted women has never dealt with Mrs. Beale.”
    “Mrs. Beale is an excellent cook, but she isn’t a hearth witch,” Marian countered.
    “I don’t care.”
    Chuckling, Marian pulled covered dishes out of the cold box. “We’ll have the vegetable casserole and some of that crusty bread.”
    “Suits me.”
    “And after we eat, you can tell me what’s wrong.”
    “Nothing is wrong. Hey hey hey! You’re not supposed to be using Craft yet!”
    “Keep your voice down,” Marian warned, glancing at Titian’s basket. Then she raised the dish. “It’s just a warming spell. Basic Craft. Nothing that requires power on the level of my Jewels, or any Jewel for that matter. Even Lucivar doesn’t fuss about me using this much Craft, and he fussed about everything through the whole of this pregnancy.”
    “I don’t care if he’d fuss about it—you’re not doing it while he’s gone.” Surreal took the casserole dish, set it above the counter, and put a warming spell on the dish to heat up the food in a few minutes.
    “Is it all right if I make the coffee?” Marian asked too sweetly.
    “I’m not being unreasonable about this.”
    “Yes, you are. But that’s because something is wrong, and you won’t talk about it.”
    “Nothing is wrong,” Surreal growled.
    “I saw your face this morning when Daemon’s name came up.”
    She had learned the hard way that emotions left to fester could turn into a poison, so she moved to the other end of the kitchen, away from the table and the baby.
    “For most of the years he and Jaenelle were married, I shielded Sadi from bitches who wanted to see how seriously he took his marriage vows, especially during the later years of Jaenelle’s life. Some of us have not forgotten what happened when Lektra tried to take Jaenelle’s place—or that Daemon threatened to kill all the Dhemlan witches if