Heir to the Shadows (55 page)

Letting out an exasperated growl, Lucivar turned her around until she was facing the front of the house.

"It fits the front door."

Jaenelle's eyes widened. "Mine?" She looked at the front door, then at the key, then back to the front door. "Mine?"

"Well, the family purchased a ten-year lease on the house and land," Saetan replied, smiling. "Duaria said that, short of tearing the house down, you could do whatever you wanted with the place."

Jaenelle gave both of them a choke-hold hug and raced to the door. It flew open before she reached it.

"surprise!"

Smiling at her stunned expression, Saetan pushed her into the house at the same time Khary and Morghann pulled her forward into the crowd.

His throat tightened as he watched Jaenelle being passed from friend to friend for a birthday hug. Astar and Sceron, from Centauran. Zylona and Jonah, from Pandar. Grezande and Elan, from Tigrelan. Little Katrine, from Philarf. Gabrielle and Chaosti, from Dea al Mon. Karla and Morton, from Glacia.

Morghann and Khary, from Scelt. Sabrina

and Aaron, from Dharo. Kalush, from Nharkhava. Ladvarian and Kaelas. Had the Shadow Realm ever seen a gathering such as this?

The years when the coven and the male circle had gathered at the Hall had passed so swiftly, and the youngsters were no longer children to be cared for, but adults to be met on equal ground. All the boys had made the Offering to the Darkness, and all of them wore dark Jewels. If the strong friendship between Khary, Aaron, and Chaosti survived the demands of young adulthood and serving in different courts, they would be a formidable, influential triangle of strength in the coming years. And the girls were almost ready to make the Offering. When they did ... ah, the power!

And then there was Jaenelle. What would become of the lovely, gifted daughter of his soul when she made the Offering?

He tried to shake off his mood before she felt it. But today was a bittersweet day for him, which was why the family had celebrated her birthday—together, privately—a couple of days ago.

A roll of thunder silenced the chatter.

"There now," Karla said with a wicked smile. "Let Uncle Saetan give Jaenelle the grand tour while we finish setting out the food. This might be the only chance we'll get to play in the kitchen."

The girls scampered off to the back of the house.

"I think we'd better help them," Khary said, leading the young men, who hustled off to save the house and edibles.

Lucivar promised to be back, muttering something about unhitching Daffodil before the horse tried to do it himself.

"Duana said that any furniture you don't want to use can be tucked in the attics," Saetan said after he and Jaenelle explored downstairs.

Jaenelle nodded absently as they headed upstairs. "I've seen some grand pieces that would be perfect for this place. There was a—" Open-mouthed, she stood in the bedroom doorway and stared at the canopied bed, dresser, tables, and chests.

"The horde downstairs bought this for you. I gather you

had admired something similar often enough that they figured you would like it."

Jaenelle stepped into the room and ran her hand over the dresser's silky maple wood. "It's wonderful.

All of it's wonderful. But, why?"

Saetan swallowed hard. "You're twenty years old today."

Jaenelle raised her right hand and fluffed her hair. "I know that."

"My legal guardianship ends today."

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"What does that mean?" she asked quietly.

"Exactly that. My
legal
guardianship ends today." He saw her relax as she assimilated the distinction.

"You're a young woman now, witch-child, and should have a place of your own. You've always loved Scelt. We thought it would be helpful to have a home base on this side of the Realm as well as the other."

When she still didn't say anything, his heart started pounding. "The Hall will always be your home. We'll always be your family—as long as you want us."

"As long as I want you." Her eyes changed.

It took everything he had in him not to sink to his knees and beg Witch to forgive him.

Jaenelle turned away from him, hugging herself as if she were cold. "I said some cruel things that day."

Saetan took a deep breath. "I did use him. He was my instrument. And even knowing what I know, if I had the choice to make again, I would do it again. A Warlord Prince is expendable. A good Queen is not. And, in truth, if we had done nothing and you hadn't survived, I don't think Daemon would have either. I know I wouldn't have."

Jaenelle opened her arms.

He stepped into them and held her tight. "I don't think you've ever realized how strong, how necessary the bond is between Warlord Princes and Queens. We need you to stay whole. That's why we serve.

That's why
all
Blood males serve."

"But it's always seemed so unfair that a Queen can lay claim to a man and control every aspect of his life if she chooses to without him having any say in the matter."

Saetan laughed. "Who says a man has no choice? Haven't you ever noticed how many men who are invited to serve in a court decline the privilege? No, perhaps you haven't. You've had too many other things occupying your time, and that sort of thing is done very quietly." He paused and shook his head, smiling. "Let me tell you an open secret, my darling little witch. You
don't
choose us.
We
choose
you."

Jaenelle thought about this and growled, "Lucivar's never going to give that damn Ring back, is he?"

Saetan chuckled softly. "You could try to get it back, but I don't think you'd win." He rubbed his cheek against her hair. "I think he'll serve you for the rest of his life, regardless of whether or not he's actually with you."

"Like you and Uncle Andulvar, with Cassandra."

He closed his eyes. "No, not like me and Andulvar."

She pulled back far enough to study his face. "I see. A bond as strong as family."

"Stronger."

Jaenelle hugged him and sighed. "Maybe we should find Lucivar a wife. That way he would have someone else to pester besides me."

Saetan choked. "How unkind of you to dump Lucivar on some unsuspecting Sister."

"But it would keep him busy."

"Consider for a moment the possible consequence of that busyness."

She did. "A houseful of little Lucivars," she said faintly.

They both groaned.

"All right," Jaenelle grumbled. "I'll think of something else."

"You two get lost up here?"

They jumped. Lucivar smiled at them from the doorway.

"Papa was just explaining that I'm stuck with you forever."

"And it only took you three years to figure that out." Lucivar's arrogant smile widened. "You don't deserve the warning, but while you've been up here busily, but futilely, rearranging my life, Ladvarian's been downstairs busily rearranging yours. The exact quote was 'We can raise and train the puppies here.' "

"Who's we?" Jaenelle squeaked. "What puppies?
Whose
puppies?"

Lucivar stepped aside as Jaenelle flew out of the room, muttering.

Saetan found the doorway blocked by a strong, well-muscled arm.

"You wouldn't have helped her do something that silly, would you?" Lucivar asked.

Saetan leaned against the doorway and shook his head. "If the right woman comes into your life, you won't let her go. I'm the last man who would tell you to compromise. Marry someone you can love and accept as she is, Lucivar. Marry someone who will love and accept you. Don't settle for less."

Lucivar lowered his arm. "Do you think the right man will come into Cat's life?"

"He'll come. If the Darkness is kind, he'll come."

3 / The Twisted Kingdom

He stood at the edge of the resting place for a long time, studying the details, absorbing the message and the warning. Unlike the other resting places she'd provided for him, this one disturbed him.

It was an altar, a slab of black stone laid over two others. At its center was a crystal chalice that once had been shattered. Even from where he stood, his eyes could trace every fracture line, could see where the pieces had been carefully fitted back together. There were sharp-edged chips around the rim where small pieces had been lost, chips that could cut a man badly. Inside the chalice, lightning and black mist performed a slow, swirling dance. Fitted around the chalice's stem was a gold ring with a faceted ruby. A man's ring.

A Consort's ring.

He finally stepped closer.

If he read the message correctly, she had healed but was soul-scarred and not completely whole. By claiming the

Consort's ring, he would have the privilege of savoring what the chalice held, but the sharp edges could wound any man who tried.

However, a careful man . . .

Yes, he decided as he studied the sharp-edged chips, a careful man who knew those edges existed and was willing to risk the wounds would be able to drink from that cup.

Satisfied, he returned to the trail and continued climbing.

4 / Kaeleer

Saetan fell out of bed in his haste to find out why Lucivar was roaring so early in the morning.

A part of his mind insisted that he couldn't go charging out of the room wearing nothing but his skin, so he grabbed the trousers he'd dropped over a chair when the birthday party finally wound down but didn't stop to put them on. He wrenched his arm when he tried to open the door that had swollen from last night's rain. Swearing, he gripped the doorknob and, using Craft, tore the door off its hinges.

By then the hallway was stuffed with bodies in various stages of dress. He tried to push past Karla and got a sharp elbow in the belly.

"What in the name of Hell is going on here?" he yelled. No one bothered to answer him because, at that moment, Lucivar stepped out of Jaenelle's bedroom and roared,"cat!"

Apparently Lucivar didn't have any inhibitions about standing stark naked in front of a group of young men and women. Of course, a man in his prime with that kind of build had no reason to feel inhibited.

And no one in their right mind would tease a man who vibrated with such intense fury.

"Where are Ladvarian and Kaelas?" Lucivar demanded.

"More to the point," Saetan said, pulling on his trousers,

"where's Jaenelle?" He looked pointedly at the Ring of

Honor that circled Lucivar's organ. "You can feel her

through that, can't you?"

Lucivar quivered with the effort to stay in control. "I can

feel her, but I can't
find
her." His fist hammered down on a small table and split it in half. "Damn her, I'm going to whack her ass for this!"

"Who are you to dare say that?" Chaosti snarled, pushing to the front of the group, his Gray Jewel glowing with his gathering power.

Lucivar bared his teeth. "I'm the Warlord Prince who serves her, the warrior sworn to protect her.
But I
can't protect her if I don't know where she is.
Her moon's blood started last night. Do I need to remind you how vulnerable a witch is during those days? Now she's upset—I can feel that much—and her only protection is two half-trained males
because she didn't tell me where she was going."

"That's enough," Saetan said sharply. "Leash the anger.now!" While he waited, he called in his shoes and stuffed his feet into them. Then he froze Chaosti and Lucivar with a look.

When no one moved, he stepped away from the group and pressed his back against the wall for support. He took a few deep breaths to calm his own temper, closed his eyes, and descended to the Black.

While it was true that witches couldn't channel Jeweled strength during their moon time without pain, that wouldn't stop Jaenelle.

Using himself as a center point, he cautiously pushed his Black-Jeweled strength outward in ever-widening circles, looking for some sense of her that would at least give him an idea of where she was. The circles widened farther and farther, beyond the village of Maghre, beyond the isle of Scelt, until

. . .

Kaetien!

He felt fear and horror braiding with anger growing into rage.

Black rage. Spiraling rage. Cold rage.

He started to pull back to escape the psychic storm that was about to explode over Sceval. He strengthened his inner barriers, knowing that it wouldn't help much. Her rage would flood in under his barriers, where he had no protection from it. He just hoped he had enough time to warn the others.

kaetien!

As she unleashed the strength of her Black Jewels, Jaenelle's anguished scream filled his head and paralyzed him. A rush of dark power smashed against him, tossing him around like a tidal wave tosses driftwood, at the same time a psychic shield snapped up around Sceval. Then, nothing.

He floated just beyond that shield, scared but oddly comforted—like being safely indoors while a violent storm raged outside.

He must have gotten caught between the conflicting uses of Black power when Jaenelle put up the shield to contain the storm. Clever little witch. And all that psychic lightning had a terrifying kind of beauty. He wouldn't mind just floating here for a while, but he had the nagging feeling there was something he should do. *High Lord.*

Damn troublesome voice. How was he supposed to think when ... *
Father. *

Father. Father. Hell's fire, Lucivar! Up. He had to go up, out of the Black. Had to get his head clear enough to tell Lucivar. . . . Which way was up? Someone grabbed him and dragged him out of the abyss.

He sputtered and snarled. Did him as much good as a puppy snarling when it was picked up by the scruff.

The next thing he knew, something was pressed against his lips and blood was filling his mouth.

"Swallow it or I'll knock your damn teeth down your throat."

Ah, yes. Lucivar. Both of him.

His eyes finally focused. He pushed Lucivar's wrist away from his mouth. "Enough." He tried to get to his feet, which wasn't easy with Lucivar holding him down on one side and Chaosti holding him down on the other. "Is everyone all right?"