Heir to the Shadows (23 page)

And he realized, with a shivering sense of wonder, that she and the wolf had sung this song before, that they knew how to blend those two voices to create something alien and beautiful.

The wolf stopped howling. Jaenelle finished the song and smiled.

A large gray shape leaped through the window, passing through the glass. The wolf landed in the dining room, snarling at them.

With a welcoming cry, Jaenelle rushed past Andulvar and Prothvar, dropped to her knees, and threw her arms around the wolf's neck.

In that moment, Saetan caught the psychic scent he was searching for. The wolf was one of the legendary kindred. A Prince, but not, thank the Darkness, a Warlord Prince. He also caught a glimpse of the gold chain and the Purple Dusk Jewel hidden in the wolfs fur.

Still snarling, the wolf pressed against Jaenelle, urging her toward the window while it kept its body between her and the Eyriens.

Pushed off-balance, Jaenelle's arms tightened around the wolf's neck. "Smoke, you're being rude," she said in that quiet, firm Queen voice that no male in his right mind would defy.

Smoke gave her a quick lick and changed his snarl to a deep growl.

"What bad male?" Jaenelle scanned each concerned male face and shook her head. "Well, it wasn't one of them. This is my pack."

The growling stopped. There was intelligence and new interest in the wolfs eyes as he studied each man, then waved the tip of his tail once as a reluctant greeting.

Another brief pause. Jaenelle blushed. "No, none of them are my mate. I'm not old enough for a mate,"

she added hurriedly as Smoke gave them all a look of blatant disapproval. "This is Saetan, the High Lord. He's my sire.

My brother, Prince Mephis, is the High Lord's pup. And this is my uncle, Prince Andulvar, and my cousin, Lord Prothvar. And that's Lord Beale. Everyone, this is Prince Smoke."

As he greeted his kindred Brother, Saetan wondered which had startled the others more: kindred suddenly appearing, Jaenelle's conversing with a wolf, or the family labels she'd given them.

There was an awkward pause after the introductions. Andulvar and Prothvar glanced at him, then sheathed their knives, keeping their movements slow and deliberate. Mephis remained still but ready to respond, and Beale, hovering in the doorway, was silently awaiting instructions. Smoke looked uneasy, and there was a bruised, uncertain look in Jaenelle's eyes.

He had to do something quickly. But what did one say to a wolf? More important, what could he do to make Jaenelle's furry friend feel comfortable enough and welcome enough to want to stay? Well, what did one say to any guest?

"May I offer you some refreshments, Prince Smoke?" Said out loud, the name combined with a Blood title sounded silly to him even if it was an apt description of the wolf's coloring. Then again, maybe human names sounded just as silly to a wolf. Saetan raised an eyebrow at Beale and wondered how his stoic Warlord butler was going to react to a four-footed guest.

It was quickly apparent that any friend of Jaenelle's, whether he walked on two legs or four, would be treated as an honored guest.

Beale stepped forward, made his most formal bow, and addressed his inquiries to Jaenelle. "There is the beef roast from dinner, if Prince Smoke doesn't object to the meat being cooked."

Jaenelle looked amused, but her voice was steady and dignified. "Thank you, Beale. That would be quite acceptable."

"A bowl of cool water as well?"

Jaenelle just nodded.

"We'll be more comfortable in the drawing room," Saetan said. He slowly approached Jaenelle, offering a hand to help her to her feet.

Smoke tensed at his approach but didn't challenge him or back away. The wolf didn't trust humans, didn't want him close enough to touch Jaenelle, but was at a loss of how to stop it without incurring his Lady's disapproval.

He's not so different from the rest of us,Saetan thought as he escorted Jaenelle to the family drawing room.

Without conscious thought, the men waited for Jaenelle to choose a seat before settling into chairs and couches far enough away from her so the wolf wouldn't be upset and close enough not to miss anything.

Saetan sat opposite her chair, aware that Smoke's attention was focused on him and had been since the introductions were made.

He felt grateful for the distraction Beale provided moments later when the butler appeared with a silver serving tray holding coffee for Jaenelle, yarbarah for the rest of them, and bowls of meat and water for Smoke. Beale set the bowls of meat and water in front of Smoke, placed the tray on a table in front of Jaenelle, and, when no one indicated a further requirement, reluctantly left the room.

Smoke sniffed at the meat and water but remained seated by Jaenelle's chair, pressed against her knees.

Saetan added the hefty dose of cream and sugar that Jaenelle liked in her coffee, then poured and warmed yarbarah, passing the glasses to the others before warming one for himself.

"Is Prince Smoke alone?" he asked Jaenelle. Until he could find out how kindred communicated with humans, he had no choice but to direct his questions to her.

Jaenelle watched Smoke studying the bowls and didn't answer.

Saetan stiffened when he realized the wolf was doing exactly what he would have done in unfamiliar and possibly hostile territory—using Craft to probe the meat and drink, looking for something that shouldn't be there. Looking for poison. And he also realized who had taught the wolf to look for poisons—which made him wonder why she'd needed to teach that lesson in the first place.

"Well?" Jaenelle said quietly.

Smoke shifted his feet and made a sound that expressed uncertainty.

Jaenelle gave him an approving pat. "Those are herbs. Humans use them to alter the flavor of meat and vegetables." Then she laughed. "I don't know why we want to change the taste of meat. We just do."

Smoke selected a hunk of beef.

Jaenelle gave Saetan an amused smile, but there was sadness in her eyes and a touch of anxiety.

"Smoke's pack is still in their home territory. He came alone because . . . because he wanted to see me, wanted to know if I'd come and visit his pack like I used to."

He missed you, witch-child. They all miss you.Saetan swirled the yarbarah in his glass. He understood her anxiety. Smoke was here instead of protecting his mate and young. That Jaenelle had taught them about poisons made it obvious that the kindred wolves faced dangers beyond natural ones. It would require some adjustments, but if Smoke was willing . . . "How much territory does a pack need?"

Jaenelle shrugged. "It depends. A fair amount. Why?"

"The family owns a considerable amount of land in Dhemlan, including the north woods. Even with the hunting rights I've granted the families in Halaway, there's plenty of game. Would that be sufficient territory for a pack?"

Jaenelle stared at him. "You want a wolf pack in the north woods?"

"If Smoke and his family would like to live there, why not?" Besides, the benefits certainly wouldn't be one-sided. He'd provide territory and protection for the wolf pack, and they'd provide companionship and protection for Jaenelle.

The silence that followed wasn't really silence but a conversation the rest of them couldn't hear. Jaenelle's expression was carefully neutral. Smoke's, as he studied each man in the room, was unreadable.

Finally Jaenelle looked at Saetan. "Humans don't like wolf-kind."

Saetan steepled his fingers and forced himself to breathe evenly. Jaenelle had rarely mentioned kindred.

He knew

she had visited the dream-weaving spiders in Arachna and once, when he'd first met her, she had mentioned unicorns. But Smoke's presence and the ease with which she and the wolf communicated spoke of a long-established relationship. What other kindred might know the sound of her voice, her dark psychic scent? What others might be willing to risk contact with humans in order to be with her again? Compared to what might be out there in those mist-enclosed Territories, what was a wolf?

The girl and the wolf waited for his answer.

"I rule this Territory," he said quietly. "And, as I said, the Hall and its land are personal property. If the humans don't want our kindred Brothers and Sisters as neighbors, then the humans can leave."

He wasn't sure if he was trying to reach out with his mind or if Smoke was trying to reach toward him, but he caught the edge of those alien, feral thoughts. Not thoughts, really, more like emotions filtered through a different lens but still readable. Surprise, followed by swift understanding and approval.

Smoke, at least, knew exactly why the offer was being made.

Unfortunately, Jaenelle, reaching for her coffee, caught some of it, too. "What bad male?" she asked, frowning.

Smoke suddenly decided the meat was interesting.

From Jaenelle's annoyed expression, Saetan deduced the wolf had turned evasive. Since it wasn't a topic he wanted her to pursue, he decided to satisfy his own curiosity, aware of the effort Andulvar, Prothvar, and Mephis were making to sit quietly and not begin a barrage of questions. The kindred had always been elusive and timid about contact with humans, even before they had closed their borders.

Now there was a wolf, kindred and wild, sitting in his drawing room.

"Prince Smoke is kindred?" Saetan asked, his tone more confirmation than question.

"Of course," Jaenelle said, surprised.

"And you can communicate with him?"

"Of course."

He felt the wave of frustration coming from the others

and clenched his teeth.
Remember who you're talking to.
"How?"

Jaenelle looked puzzled. "Distaff to spear. The same way I communicate with you." She fluffed her hair.

"You can't hear him?"

Saetan and the other men shook their heads.

Jaenelle looked at Smoke. "Can you hear them?"

Smoke looked at the human males and whuffed softly.

Jaenelle became indignant. "What do you mean I didn't train them well? I didn't train them at all!"

Smoke's expression as he turned back to the meat was smug.

Jaenelle muttered something uncomplimentary about male thought processes, then said tartly, "Does the beef at least meet with your approval?" She gave Saetan a brittle smile. "Smoke says the beef is much better than the squawky white birds." Her expression changed from annoyed to dismayed. "Squawky white birds? Chickens? You ate Mrs. Beale's chickens?"

Smoke whined apologetically.

Saetan leaned back in his chair. Oh, it was so satisfying to see her thrown off stride. "I'm sure Mrs.

Beale was delighted to feed a guest—even if she wasn't aware of it," he added dryly, remembering too well his cook's reaction when she learned about the missing hens.

Jaenelle pressed her hands into her lap. "Yes. Well." She nibbled her lower lip. "Communicating with kindred isn't difficult."

"Really?" Saetan replied mildly, amused by the abrupt return to the original topic of conversation.

"You just . . ." Jaenelle paused and finally shrugged. "Shuck the human trappings and take one step to the side."

It wasn't the most enlightening set of instructions he'd ever heard, but having seen beneath her mask of human flesh, the phrase "shuck the human trappings" gave him some uncomfortable things to wonder about. Was it more comfortable, more natural for her to reach for kindred minds? Or did she see kindred and human as equal puzzles?

Alien and Other. Blood and more than Blood. Witch.

"What?" he asked, suddenly realizing they were all watching him.

"Do you want to try it?" Jaenelle asked gently.

Her haunted sapphire eyes, dark with their ancient wisdom, told him she knew exactly what troubled him. She didn't dismiss his concerns, which was sufficient acknowledgment that he had a reason to be concerned. And no reason at all.

Saetan smiled. "Yes, I'd like to try it."

Jaenelle touched the minds of the four men just outside the first inner barrier and showed them how to reach a mind that wasn't human.

It was simple, really. Rather like walking down a narrow, hedged-in lane, sidestepping through a gap in the hedge, and discovering that there was another well-worn path on the other side. Human trappings were nothing more than a narrow view of communication. He-—and Andulvar, Prothvar, and Mephis, and maybe Smoke as well—would always be aware of the hedge and would have to travel through a gap. For Jaenelle, it was just one wide avenue.

*Human.* Smoke sounded pleased.

Filled with wonder, Saetan smiled. *Wolf.*

Smoke's thoughts were fascinating. Happiness because Jaenelle was glad to see him. Relief that the humans accepted him. Anticipation of bringing his pack to a safe place—clouded by darker images of kindred being hunted, and the need to understand these humans in order to protect themselves. Curiosity about how humans marked their territory since he hadn't smelled any scent markers in this stone place.

And a yearning to water a few trees himself.

"I think we should go for a walk," Jaenelle said, standing quickly.

The human males stepped through the gaps in the mental hedge, their thoughts once more their own.

"After your walk, there's no reason Smoke has to return to the woods tonight," Saetan said casually, ignoring the sharp look Jaenelle gave him. "If your room's too warm, he could always bed down on the balcony or in your garden."

*I will keep the bad male away from the Lady.* '

Apparently Smoke was accustomed to sliding through

the mental hedge. Saetan also noticed the wolf sent the thought on a spear thread, male to male, so that Jaenelle couldn't pick it up.

*Thank you,* Saetan replied. "Finished tomorrow's studies?"

Jaenelle wrinkled her nose at him and bid them all good night, Smoke eagerly trotting beside her as they headed for an outside door.

Saetan turned to the others.

Andulvar whistled softly. "Sweet Darkness, SaDiablo. Kindred."

"Kindred," Saetan agreed, smiling.

Andulvar and Mephis returned the smile.

Prothvar drew his hunting knife from its sheath and studied the blade. "I'll go with him to bring the pack home."