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  • Home > Anne Bishop > Black Jewels > Heir to the Shadows (Chapter 154)      Page
  • Heir to the Shadows(Black Jewels,Book 2)(154) by Anne Bishop
  • A stupid thing to say to a man holding a weapon large enough and sharp enough to cut through bone.

    They had drugged her. Something strong enough to scramble her wits while still leaving her capable of signing the marriage contract. That still didn't explain that room.

    "Afterward," Lucivar crooned. "What did you give her to prepare her for the marriage bed?" When the Warlord just stared at him, he shifted the war blade, cut a little deeper this time. "Where are the bottles?"

    Panting, the Warlord waved a hand toward a nearby door.

    Mephis went into the room, then returned with two small bottles.

    Lucivar vanished the war blade, took one bottle, and nicked the top off. Probed the drops in the bottom. If he'd been given a drink with this in it, he wouldn't have touched it. Under normal circumstances, Jaenelle wouldn't have either.

    He vanished that bottle, took the other one that was still half filled with a dark powder, and swore viciously. He knew—how well he knew!—what a large dose ofsafframate would do to someone of his build and weight. He could imagine the agony it would produce in Jaenelle.

    He held up the bottle. "You gave her this? Then you're responsible for what's in that room."

    The Warlord shook his head violently. "It's harmless. Harmless! Added to a glass of wine, it's just a variety of the Night of Fire brew. Always use a Night of Fire brew on the wedding night."

    Lucivar bared his teeth in a smile. "Since it's harmless, you won't mind drinking the other dose. Mephis, get him a glass of wine."

    Sweat popped out on the Warlord's forehead.

    Mephis disappeared for a minute, then returned with the wine.

    After pouring almost all of the dark powder into the wine, Lucivar handed the bottle to Mephis and took the wineglass. His other hand closed around the Warlord's throat. "Now, you can drink this, or I can tear your throat out. Your choice."

    "W-want a hearing before the Dark Council," the Warlord whimpered.

    "That's certainly within your rights," Mephis agreed quietly. He looked at Lucivar. "Are you going to tear his throat out or shall I?"

    Lucivar laughed maliciously. "Wouldn't do him much good to go to the Council then, would it?" His fingers dug into the Warlord's throat.


    "I knew you'd be reasonable," Lucivar crooned. He loosened his hold enough to let the Warlord swallow the wine.

    "Now." He threw the Warlord into the room where Mephis had found the bottles. "In order to give the Dark Council an accurate accounting, I think you should enjoy the same experience you intended for Lady Angelline." After sealing the room with an Ebon-gray shield and adding a timing spell, he turned to a man hovering nearby. "The shield will vanish in twenty-four hours."

    This time he didn't have to shove his way through the crowd. They pressed against the walls to let him pass.

    Mephis caught up with him before he got out of the manor house. Probing the area, he walked into the nearest empty room-—someone's study. He found it grimly appropriate, even if it wasn't Saetan's.

    Mephis locked the door. "That was quite a show you put on."

    "The show's just started." Lucivar prowled the room. "I didn't see you trying to stop me."

    "We can't afford to be publicly divided. Besides, there wasn't any point in trying to stop you. You outrank me, and I doubt you'd let brotherly feelings get in your way."

    "You got that right."

    Mephis swore. "Do you realize the trouble we're going to have with the Dark Council over this? We're not above the Law, Lucivar."

    Lucivar stopped in front of Mephis. "You play by your rules, and I'll play be mine."

    "She signed a marriage contract."

    "Not willingly."

    "You don't know that. And twenty witnesses say otherwise."

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire