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  • Home > Anne Bishop > Black Jewels > Tangled Webs (Chapter 106)      Page
  • Tangled Webs(Black Jewels,Book 6)(106) by Anne Bishop
  • The man who came out of the dark topped him in height, weight, and muscle. But Lucivar saw no real intelligence in the eyes—and didn’t get the sense there had been much, if any, even before the man was caged in this house.

    Doesn’t mean the bastard can’t use the club he’s carrying or the…

    Leg bone in the man’s other hand. Not an old bone. And not completely clean.

    “Food.” The man smiled, tossed the bone aside, and took a step toward Lucivar.

    A glint in the eye. Not intelligence, just anticipated pleasure. This man liked to fight.

    A club against an Eyrien war blade. A simple mind against centuries of training. An unshielded landen against a shielded Warlord Prince.

    The fight would be over as fast as Lucivar wanted it to be.

    He made the choice out of pity rather than practicality, out of Eyrien tradition rather than landen understanding. He would give the man the compliment of pretending that he, Lucivar Yaslana, was facing another warrior.

    The man took another step toward him. And Lucivar rose to the killing edge.

    The stuff oozing out from beneath the door looked like chicken fat and was so acrid it stung her eyes and made her nose run.

    “Hell’s fire,” Surreal said, taking a step back. “What is that?”And does anyone else see it but me?

    “Do you think it’s one of Tersa’s spells?” Rainier asked.

    It did look as if what had oozed onto the kitchen floor was reshaping itself into arms and a bulby head.

    “No,” Surreal said. “It feels malignant. It feels like if it touches you…” Taking another step back, she put a hand over her mouth and nose.

    “Shielded or not, I don’t want to get near it,” Rainier said.

    “Since it seems to be guarding the back door, I guess we try to go out the front.”

    She pressed her arm against her side. The flesh around the wound felt pulpy, pus-filled, not good. Didn’t matter at this point if it was infection or poison or something else the Black Widow had dipped her nails in.

    “Don’t count on me to watch your back,” Surreal said as Rainier guided her and the children to the front hallway. “I can’t trust what I see, and you shouldn’t trust me to stand with you.”

    If you need to, leave me behind.That’s what she was telling him. Not that he would listen. He was a Warlord Prince who was her escort. He would fight to protect her with his last breath and beyond.

    “I’ll try the front door,” Rainier said. He pointed at the children. “You four. Stand on the stairs. If something happens, you’ll have more chance of getting away by going up. You too, Surreal.”

    She didn’t argue with him. Couldn’t. Not when the floor turned swishy again and beetles started oozing out of the walls.

    She shook her head, hoping to clear it. Instead, the room seemed to melt around the edges—until the front door slammed open and her heart jumped.

    No smoke and red-eyed illusions this time, but it was the same Eyrien Warlord who had killed Kester. He stepped into the hallway, looked at Rainier, and said, “Time for you to join the rest of us.”

    Lucivar wiped off the Eyrien war blade on his enemy’s ragged trousers.

    The man hadn’t seen the killing blow, had died so fast there had been no moment of realization, no moment of fear. He’d never understood Lucivar was doing little more than sparring with him. He’d fought with more grace than expected, and it was clear that he was used to fighting in a confined space and used his size and reach to advantage.

    He didn’t have any chance against an Ebon-gray Warlord Prince, but he’d fought with a little boy’s glee.

    And now he was dead.

    Lucivar returned to the stairs and looked up. He was riding the killing edge now, and he wasn’t stepping away from it until he walked out of this house.

    Lucivar raised his right hand and released a blast of Ebon-gray power from his ring. The hallway floor rained down around him, wood and tile reduced to the size of small hailstones.

    He shook his arms and opened his wings to clear most of the debris off his shields. Then he looked at the hole no illusion spell could hide—and he bared his teeth in a savage smile.

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire