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  • Home > Anne Bishop > Black Jewels > Tangled Webs (Chapter 37)      Page
  • Tangled Webs(Black Jewels,Book 6)(37) by Anne Bishop
  • “Maybe.” She leaned down, resting one hand on his shoulder while the other hand lightly touched her son’s head, and gave Lucivar a soft kiss. “Should I ask why the two of you are tired enough to be asleep at this hour?”

    “You don’t want to know.”

    She’d take his word for it.

    Lucivar turned his head and looked out the window. “Sun’s down.”

    “It is, yes.”

    He looked down at Daemonar. “Should we wake him up so he’ll sleep later or just put him to bed and accept that tomorrow will start in the wee hours of the morning?”

    “Are you up to dealing with him?”

    “No.” That sounded like a groan. “Besides, I need to fly over to the Keep and see the High Lord.”

    “Then let’s put him to bed. I stopped at The Tavern and picked up some food. We can eat when you get back.”

    Lucivar shifted Daemonar and stood up. “Fair enough.” When they reached the doorway, he stopped.

    “What?” Marian asked.

    Lucivar stared at nothing. “Don’t know. Just…It was an eventful afternoon, and I feel like I’ve forgotten something.”

    Lucivar walked into the small parlor at the Keep and did a quick assessment. Drapes drawn. Fire going, with plenty of wood in the copper basket. A cozy feel for a chilly, rainy night. His father wearing a wool dressing gown over shirt and trousers. Slippers instead of shoes. Hair that was clean but looked as if it had been finger-combed instead of brushed.

    Not unkempt, he decided. Just comfortable.

    “I wasn’t expecting company,” Saetan said dryly.

    Lucivar shrugged, then eyed the book in Saetan’s lap. “Is Marian going to want to read that book?”


    “Is it going to make her cry?”



    The sound made Saetan smile as he closed the book and set it on a table beside a tray that held a decanter of yarbarah, a decanter of brandy, and two ravenglass goblets. “If you want to live with a woman, you have to ride the currents of her moods, boyo.”

    Lucivar picked up a wooden chair that was tucked against the wall, brought it over to where Saetan was sitting, and straddled it, resting his arms on the back. “We now have a code. If she suspects the story is going to make her cry, Marian puts a polished rock on the table next to her chair. When I see the rock, I’m supposed to let her cry and not make a fuss about it.”

    “Can’t stand to stay in the room when that happens, can you?”


    A long pause. Then Saetan said, “What’s on your mind, Lucivar?”

    He told Saetan about Daemonar and the wolf pup—and saw wariness flicker in his father’s eyes.

    “I don’t remember you,” Lucivar said, feeling cautious. “I don’t remember the early years when you were there. Daemon remembers a little more, I think, and when he tells me about something, I can sometimes fill in the rest, like a story I’ve heard a long time ago.” He paused. “I don’t remember you, but I remember that sound. Even though it came from me this afternoon and it wasn’t the same, not really, I could feel the memory of that sound. It’s more than the usual roar that will stop a boy before he does something stupid.”

    No answer. Just a vicious—and visible—effort at self-control.

    “Come on,” Lucivar said. “You’ve told us plenty of stories about when Daemon and I were young.”

    Still no answer. Then, too softly, “And you need to know about this one?”

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire