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  • Home > Anne Bishop > Black Jewels > Tangled Webs (Chapter 89)      Page
  • Tangled Webs(Black Jewels,Book 6)(89) by Anne Bishop
  • He looked at Jaenelle.

    She said, “Lucivar is here.”

    EIGHTEEN

    The only thing behind the door was a dining room that wasn’t the same as the one they’d seen last night. Nothing in the back passage, nothing on the stairs. No shadow illusions of dead boys. No Black Widows trying to take another slice out of her.

    No damn beetles in the bathroom.

    Surreal would have felt better if a hairy, giggling spider had been climbing up a wall or a skeleton mouse had been scurrying in the hallway.

    The lack of small surprises could mean they were getting close to something big—and a lot more dangerous.

    Daemon rushed out of the Coach and saw Lucivar walking along the outside of the wrought-iron fence, looking at the house and the land around it.

    Looking relaxed, unconcerned, even friendly.

    And underneath a surface that gave no warning, the man was so furious, he was capable of ripping a person’s arm off before anyone realized his smile was feral and not friendly.

    The fact that that particular flavor of Lucivar’s temper seemed to be aimed right at him wasn’t a good way to start the morning.

    “Hell’s fire,” Jaenelle muttered as she joined Daemon outside. “He’s really feeling pissy this morning.”

    Lucivar stopped at the gate and waited for them.

    The lazy, arrogant smile. The glazed eyes. The explosive temper dancing one step away from the killing edge.

    “Lucivar,” Daemon said.

    “Because you’re my brother and I love you, I’m going to let you tell me why I shouldn’t break your face.”

    “Lucivar,” Jaenelle said.

    He snapped his fingers, pointed at her, and snarled, “Stay out of this, Cat.”

    She blinked and actually took a step back in surprise. Then her eyes changed, the blue becoming a deeper sapphire. And suddenly Daemon could see his breath as the air around them turned cold.

    “And put a warmer coat on,” Lucivar snapped, still glaring at her. “It’s cold out here.”

    "The cold has nothing to do with the weather, Prick," Daemon said on a spear thread.

    "I don’t give a damn. Cold is cold, and she’s not dressed warmly enough to be standing out here."

    “Prince Yaslana,” Jaenelle growled.

    “Don’t get bitchy with me, or I’ll knock you on your ass.”

    "Have you forgotten that I’m standing here?" Daemon asked.

    "No, it just means I’ll have to knock you down first."

    Yes, he knew that flavor of Lucivar’s temper, and he knew the man. Lucivar was primed for a fight—and right now, the opponent didn’t much matter.

    “Lady,” Daemon said, never taking his eyes off Lucivar. “Prince Yaslana and I need a few minutes alone.”

    She studied both of them for a long moment, then walked away, muttering something about snarly males that he couldn’t quite hear. She stopped halfway between them and the Coach—out of earshot but close enough to quickly rejoin the discussion.

    “Who’s in that house?” Lucivar asked.

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire