• Home
  • Directory
  • Popular
  • Authors
  • Series
  • Home > Anne Bishop > Black Jewels > Dreams Made Flesh (Chapter 134)      Page
  • Dreams Made Flesh(Black Jewels,Book 5)(134) by Anne Bishop
  • "It's a good bribe."

    Daemon grinned, then looked out the window when the cab stopped. "Streets are crowded today."

    "What else is on your mind?"

    He sighed. Of course she'd noticed his preoccupation at the last two shops they'd visited. Taking her left hand in his, he dropped the sight shield on his wedding ring for a moment. The brief sight of it warmed him, soothed him.

    "Maybe we should let this go," he said quietly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

    "Someone tried to ruin your reputation and isolate you socially from the rest of the Blood," Jaenelle pointed out.

    "Someone wanted you to turn away from me. You didn't. Nothing else matters." The cab started forward. "I don't give a damn if the Blood in Amdarh accept me or not."

    "If someone wants you enough to hurt you…"

    The driver cried out. The horse screamed and bolted.

    Daemon had enough time to throw a Black shield around both of them before the horse veered sharply. The sound of wood snapping…

    "Air!" Jaenelle shouted.

    … then the cab tipped, crashing on its side before continuing a sickening flip with unnatural speed until it smashed against walls of power.

    The inside of the cab was a dazzle of colors…Green, Rose, Summer-, sky, Purple Dusk, Red, Sapphire.

    As the cab came to rest, Daemon blinked to clear his vision. The colors danced around them a moment longer before they faded…and he realized they were floating in the middle of the cab. He had automatically created a tight, defensive shield that would have protected them from invasive harm, but they would have been thrown around the inside of the cab. Jaenelle's bubble shield had provided a better cushion.

    Shattered glass and thrusting spikes of broken wood littered the cab's roof, which was now beneath them.

    He wasn't aware he'd risen to the killing edge, wasn't aware of the freezing rage flooding him until Jaenelle said quietly, "Leash it, Prince. They just want to help."

    He stared at her, working through what she was telling him, what she was demanding from him. He wanted to rip flesh from bone, wanted to crush the minds surrounding the cab. He wanted to wash Amdarh's streets in a river of blood.

    "Daemon," Jaenelle said.

    "For you," he crooned. "Only for you."

    With effort, he chained the desire to strike out with lethal intent as the cab door opened, revealing worried male faces. The air bubble shrank around them. In the space of a heartbeat, he dropped the Black shield around them and reformed tight shields around each of them. Then he shifted until he could crouch among the shattered glass and shards of wood and help the Warlords reaching into the cab to guide Jaenelle, still floating on air, through the door.

    As Daemon emerged from the cab, he noticed how the males had formed a protective circle around Jaenelle, noted the distress and angei in all of their faces.

    "Where's the driver?" he asked too softly.

    "Over there," a Warlord said, pointing to another cluster of males.

    The males near the driver backed away as he approached. He looked down at the man sprawled in the street, testing with a delicate psychic probe.

    Physically dead but not burned out.

    He put a Black shield around the driver and vanished the body, ignoring the startled exclamations of the other men. The Warlords surrounding Jaenelle watched him with fear in their eyes. Jaenelle just watched him.

    Her presence was the tiny spark of warmth in a world that had gone sweetly, deadly cold. So he held on to that spark while he led his Lady to one of the carriages offered for their use…and he held himself in the eye of a storm that he would either dissipate… or unleash on Amdarh.

    Keeping her inner barriers tightly shut to prevent anyone picking up on her frustration and fury, Lektra, along with several other women, stood on a street corner and watched the Warlords ease Jaenelle Angelline from the broken cab. She walked away, knowing she'd be sickened by the sight of Daemon fawning over that pale bitch.

    It should have worked.It should have. Even if Jaenelle wasn't as much of an invalid as she'd thought, being tossed around in a tumbling cab should have injuredsomething. But the bitch didn't even have ascratch.

    Of course, she hadn't seen Daemon emerge from the cab.

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire