front of him.
He had watched that initial game closely, waiting for some sign from Daemon that it was time to attack. The spelled chains couldn’t have held him by themselves, and, unlike Saetan, the pain from the Ring of Obedience didn’t debilitate him for long-at least, it didn’t drain him the way it seemed to drain the High Lord. No, what had made him hold back and wait was the threat to Marian and Daemonar. There was always a guard inside the far hut that was being used as one of the prisons, and that guard had orders to kill his wife and son if he broke free. So he had waited, especially after Saetan had surrendered to those two bitches, because he had realized that Saetan had known there wouldn’t be an exchange, had walked in expecting to become a prisoner, and had had a reason for doing it.
So when he saw Daemon, he figured the game was about to begin. But now, seeing that bored, sleepy,
”Hello, Bastard,” he said carefully.
Daemon stepped closer. His fingertips drifted up Lucivar’s arm, over the shoulder, traced the collarbone.
”What’s the game?” Lucivar asked quietly. Then he shivered as Daemon’s fingers drifted up his neck, along his jaw.
”It’s simple enough,” Daemon crooned, brushing a finger over Lucivar’s lower lip. ”You’re going to die, and I’m going to rule.” He met Lucivar’s eyes and smiled. ”Do you know what it’s like in the Twisted Kingdom, Prick? Do you have any idea? I spent eight years in that torment because of you.”
”You forgave the debt,” Lucivar snarled softly. ”I gave you the chance to settle it, and you chose to forgive it.”
Daemon’s hand gently settled on Lucivar’s neck. He leaned forward until his lips almost brushed Lucivar’s. ”Did you really think I would forgive you?”
From the far hut, they both heard a child’s outraged howl.
Daemon stepped back. Smiled. Slipped his hands into his trouser pockets. ”You’re going to pay for those years, Prick,” Daemon said softly. ”You’re going to pay dearly.”
Lucivar’s heart pounded in his throat as Daemon glided toward the hut that held Marian and Daemonar. ”Bastard? Bastard, wait.
Daemon walked into the hut. A moment later, the guard hurried out.
”DAEMON!”
A few minutes after that, Lucivar heard his son scream.
Dorothea’s hands closed into fists. ”I’m telling you, it’s a trick of some kind. I
”Do you?” Hekatah snapped.
Yes, she had been able to sense the ruthlessness, the ambition, the cruel sexuality in Daemon Sadi. It frightened her a little. It excited her even more.
”He’s never been interested in using his strength to acquire power. He fought against every attempt I made to bring him around.”
”That’s because you handled him wrong,” Hekatah snarled. ”If you had doted on Sadi the way you had doted on that excuse for a son-”
”You used to think it was amusing that I was playing bedroom games with the High Lord’s boy. You said it would make a man out of him.”
And it had. It had honed Sadi’s cruelty, his taste for perverse pleasure. She had sensed that, too. Just as she had sensed that it wouldn’t be easy to get around his deep hatred for Dorothea. Well, she wouldn’t let that interfere with her
”I tell you, he’s up to something,” Dorothea insisted. ”And you’re just letting him wander around the camp to do who knows what.”
”What am I supposed to do?” Hekatah snapped. ”Without any leverage, we can’t go up against the Black and expect to win.”
”We’ve
Hekatah let out a nasty laugh. ”What leverage? If he really
”You picked the wrong man, the wrong threat,” Dorothea said irritably, waving a hand. ”He may not give a damn about Saetan, but he’s always buckled when Lucivar was threatened. Lucivar’s been the one chain we could count on to hold Sadi. If you threatened-” She paused, sniffed, looked toward the door, and said uneasily, ”What’s that smell?”
”What’s that smell?” Surreal muttered. It was well past midnight. Were the guards roasting some meat for tomorrow’s meals? Possibly, but she couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to eat anything that smelled that vile. ”Do you smell it?” She turned her head to look at Saetan-and didn’t like what she saw. Not one little bit. Since Daemon walked out of the camp the first time, the High Lord had just been staring straight ahead. Just staring. ”Uncle Saetan?”
He turned his head, slowly. His eyes focused on her-too slowly.
Checking to make sure there weren’t any guards around at the moment, she leaned toward him as much as she could. ”Uncle Saetan, this isn’t exactly the time to start taking mental side trips. We’ve got to think of a way to get out of here.”
”I’m sorry you’re here, Surreal,” he said in a worn-out voice. ”Truly, I am sorry.”
He just looked at her. The smile that finally curved his lips was gently bitter. ”Sweetheart… I’ve gotten very old in the past two days.”
She could see that, and it scared her. Without him, she wasn’t sure they
Hearing a door open, she immediately straightened up and looked away from him.
”Hell’s fire,” Dorothea said irritably, ”what’s that smell?” She stepped between the posts that held Saetan and Surreal.
Surreal clenched her teeth. She wore a Gray Jewel; Dorothea wore a Red. It would be easy enough to slip under Dorothea’s inner barriers and weave a death spell-something nasty so that, when it triggered, the screams and confusion might give them a chance to get away.
She began a careful descent so that no one would notice it, but before she reached the depth of her Gray Jewel, another door opened.
The vile smell intensified, making her gag.
Daemon Sadi strolled out of the prison hut, his hands in his trouser pockets. He kept moving until he reached the center of the lighted area. He didn’t look at them. His glittering eyes were focused intently on Lucivar, who stared back at him.
No one dared move.
Finally, Daemon looked toward the prison hut and said pleasantly, ”Marian, darling, come out and show your foolish husband the price for my years in the Twisted Kingdom.”
Two naked…
Surreal began panting in an effort to keep her stomach down. Mother Night, Mother Night, Mother Night.
Marian’s fingers and feet were gone. So was the long, lovely hair. Daemonar’s eyes were gone, as well as his hands and feet. Their wings were so crisped, the slight movement of floating made pieces break off. And their skin.,
Smiling that cold, cruel smile, the Sadist released his hold on Marian and Daemonar. The little boy hit the ground with a