• Home
  • Directory
  • Popular
  • Authors
  • Series
  • Home > Anne Bishop > Black Jewels > Heir to the Shadows (Chapter 98)      Page
  • Heir to the Shadows(Black Jewels,Book 2)(98) by Anne Bishop
  • Karla pointed toward the ceiling. "I'm late for my art lesson."

    Saetan groaned softly and massaged his temple. Had he remembered to tell Dujae not to come today? "Please ask Jaenelle to come down. These gentlemen would like to see her."

    Karla's ice-blue eyes swept over Magstrom and Friall. "Why?" She jerked her chin toward Lord Magstrom. "The grandfather looks harmless enough, but why would she want to talk to a fribble?"

    Friall sputtered.

    Lord Magstrom raised his cup to hide his smile.

    Saetan was sure half his teeth were going to shatter. "Now."

    "Oh, all right. Kiss kiss," Karla said, and was gone.

    "Lady Karla is a friend of your ward?" Lord Magstrom asked mildly.

    "Yes." Saetan's lips twitched. "She and Jaenelle's other friends are staying with us for the summer—if I survive it."

    Lord Magstrom blinked.

    "She's a little bitch," Friall sputtered, dabbing his lips with his handkerchief. "Hardly a suitable companion for your ward."

    "Karla's a Queen and a natural Black Widow," Saetan said coldly, "as well as a Healer. She's an exuberant—but formidable—young lady. Like my daughter."

    He caught Lord Magstrom's arrested look. Hadn't the Council checked the register at the Keep? As soon as Jaenelle had returned to them, he and Geoffrey had prepared the listing for her. They had agreed not to include the Territory—or Realm—where she had been born, or anything else that could lead someone back to her Chaillot relatives, but theyhad included that the Black was her Birthright Jewel. Didn't the Council know who, and what, they were dealing with? Or had the Tribunal chosen not to tell these men?

    Lord Magstrom accepted another cup of coffee. "Your . . . daughter ... is a Black Widow Queen? And a Healer as well?"

    "Yes," Saetan replied. "Didn't the Council mention it?"

    Lord Magstrom looked troubled. "No, they didn't. Perhaps—"

    A woman let out a screech that made all three men jump. As Lord Magstrom dabbed at the spilled coffee and murmured apologies, a young wolf leaped into the drawing room. Friall let out a screech of his own and leaped behind his chair. Veering away from the screeching human, the wolf bounded behind the couch, came around the other side, and finally pressed himself against Saetan's legs, his

    head and one paw in Saetan's lap and a pleading expression in his eyes.

    Saetan reminded himself that, compared to most days, they were having a quiet afternoon. He rubbed the young wolfs head and sighed. "Now what have you done?"

    "I'll tell you what he's done." A red-faced woman filled the drawing room doorway.

    Friall whimpered.

    The wolf whined.

    Lord Magstrom stared.

    Mother Night, Mother Night, Mother Night. "Ah, Mrs. Beale," Saetan said calmly while he pressed a damp palm into the wolf's fur.

    Mrs. Beale wasn't fat. She was just . . .large. And she didn't need to use Craft to lift a fifty-pound sack of flour with one hand.

    Mrs. Beale pointed a finger at the wolf. "That walking muff just ate the chickens I was preparing for tonight's dinner."

    Saetan looked down at the wolf. "Bad muff," he said mildly.

    The wolf whined, but the tip of his tail dusted the floor.

    Saetan sighed and turned his attention back to the huffing woman. "If there's no time to prepare more of our own, perhaps you could send someone to the butcher's in Halaway?"

    Mrs. Beale huffed even more and said in a voice that rattled the windows, "Those chickens had been marinating in my special plum wine sauce since last night."

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire