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  • Home > Anne Bishop > Black Jewels > Heir to the Shadows (Chapter 176)      Page
  • Heir to the Shadows(Black Jewels,Book 2)(176) by Anne Bishop
  • Before she could ask Jaenelle about the wristband, something heavy hit the ground nearby. A man cursed softly.

    "Mother Night, the guards heard us." Using her left arm for leverage, Surreal got to her feet. "Let's get him out of here and—"

    "I can't leave here, Surreal," Jaenelle said quietly. "I have to do what I came here to do ... while I still can." The Black Jewels flared, and Surreal felt a shivering, liquid darkness flow into the maze.

    Jaenelle tried to smile. "They won't find their way through the maze. Not'this maze, anyway." Then she looked sadly at Daemon's gaunt, bruised body and gently brushed the long, dirty, tangled black hair off his forehead. "Ah, Daemon. I had gotten used to thinking of my body as a weapon that was used against me. I'd forgotten that it's also a gift. If it's not too late, I'll do better. I promise."

    Jaenelle placed her transparent hands on either side of Daemon's head. She closed her eyes. The Black Jewel glowed.

    Listening to the Hayllian guards thrashing around somewhere in the maze, Surreal sank to the ground and settled down to wait.


    The island slowly sank into the sea of blood. He curled up in the center of the pulpy ground while the word sharks circled, waiting for him.


    Hadn't they all been waiting for the end of this torment? Hadn't they all been waiting for the debt to be paid in full? Now she was calling him, calling for his complete surrender.

    "Move your ass, Sadi!"

    He rolled to his hands and knees and stared at the golden-manned, sapphire-eyed woman who stood on a blood-drenched shore that hadn't existed a minute ago. A tiny spiral horn rose from the center of her forehead. Her long gown looked as if it were made from black cobwebs and didn't quite hide her delicate hooves.

    The pleasure of seeing her made him giddy. Her mood made him cautious. He carefully sat back on his heels. " You're annoyed with me."

    "Let me put it this way," Jaenelle replied sweetly. "If you go under and I have to pull you out, I'm going to be pissed."

    Daemon shook his head slowly and tsked. "Such language."

    With precise enunciation, she spoke a phrase in the Old Tongue.

    His jaw dropped. He choked on a laugh.

    "That, Prince Sadi, islanguage."

    You are my instrument.

    Words lie. Blood doesn't.

    Butchering whore.

    He swayed, steadied himself, rose carefully to his feet. "Have you come to call in the debt, Lady?"

    He didn't understand the sorrow in her eyes.

    "Fm here because of a debt," she said, her voice filled with pain. She slowly raised her hands.

    Between the shore and the sinking island, the sea churned, churned, churned. Waves lifted and froze into waist-high walls. Between them, the sea solidified, becoming a bridge made of blood.

    "Come, Daemon."

    His hands lightly brushed the crests of the red, frozen waves. He stepped onto the bridge.

    The word sharks circled, tore off chunks of the island, tried to slice away the bridge beneath his feet.

    You are my instrument.

    Jaenelle called in a bow, nocked an arrow, and took aim. The arrow sang through the air. The word shark thrashed as it withered and sank.

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire