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  • Home > Anne Bishop > Black Jewels > The Invisible Ring (Chapter 107)      Page
  • The Invisible Ring(Black Jewels,Book 4)(107) by Anne Bishop
  • Daemon leaned against the closed door, his hands still tucked in his trouser pockets. In silence, he watched Lia’s efforts.

    “Who is she?” Daemon asked quietly. ?

    Jared took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Lady Arabella Ardelia. The Gray Lady’s granddaughter.”

    Daemon didn’t move, but Jared sensed a change. Not exactly surprise, but a swift reassessment.

    “Viper rats?” Daemon said, his eyes narrowing as he studied Lia.

    Jared nodded. He had no chance against the Sadist, but he’d make Daemon go through him in order to get to Lia.

    Daemon shrugged out of his tailored black jacket, tossed it on a chair, and began rolling up the sleeves of his white-silk shirt. “Get her on the bed. We’ll finish this discussion later.” He stepped through the bathroom door.

    Daemon returned before Jared had a chance to settle Lia.

    “Wait,” Daemon said. He unfolded two sheets, then refolded them to make a pad. Placing them on the left side of the double bed, he smoothed the sheets.

    What kind of spells was Daemon putting on the sheets? Jared wondered, holding Lia a little tighter to his chest.

    Satisfied, Daemon said, “Put her on those. It’ll be easier than stripping the bed later and disturbing her.”

    Jared did as he was told. He bit back a snarl when Daemon knelt on the bed beside Lia. “Is there a Healer in the village?”

    Daemon’s hands glided over Lia’s head, slid down her swollen neck. “Even if there is, I doubt she’d be much help. You need someone who has some skill in healing Craft and a knowledge of poisons.” His hands glided over her shoulders, over her br**sts.

    Thera had said the same thing, Jared reminded himself as he watched Daemon’s hands move over Lia’s body. There was nothing personal or sexual about the way Daemon explored her, but Jared couldn’t push aside the memory of watching those hands with their long, black-tinted nails roam over other female bodies for a very different purpose.

    Especially when those strong, slender fingers drifted through the triangle of hair between Lia’s legs and curved to cup her.

    Jared snarled at the intimacy.

    “If you don’t know how to behave in a sickroom, get out,” Daemon said mildly, giving Jared one piercing look before he turned his attention back to Lia.

    Stung, Jared clenched his teeth. Of course he knew how to behave in a sickroom. His mother was a Healer. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself.

    The first rule of a sickroom was that no anger, no fear, no violent emotions were permitted because they could be absorbed into a healing, neutralizing or even destroying a Healer’s efforts.

    He opened his eyes when Daemon sat back.

    “If someone hadn’t taught her how to contain an injected poison, she’d be dead by now,” Daemon said.

    “Her mother is a Black Widow.” The bites looked bigger, darker. “Isn’t there anyone . . .” Jared’s voice faded.

    Daemon got off the bed. He called in two leather carrying boxes, opened them, and started looking through the various jars. “I know enough healing Craft.” Amusement and something else Jared couldn’t identify flickered in Daemon’s eyes. “And poisons are an interest of mine. Those bites have to be opened and the venom drawn out. If you don’t have a strong stomach, you’ve got five minutes to acquire one.”

    Jared swallowed hard. Frowning, he gingerly touched his throat.

    Daemon gave him a knowing look before calling in a mortar and pestle. “There’s no physical damage. Well, not much. I didn’t think I’d actually have to crush your throat to convince you to be reasonable. There are many kinds of illusions. Jared.”

    Jared winced when his fingers brushed against one of the cuts made by the phantom nails. “But you would have.”

    Daemon poured a jar of dried herbs into the mortar. “If you’d done something to harm the Gray Lady, yes, I would have.”

    “Why are you so interested in the Gray Lady?”

    Daemon’s golden eyes turned to hard, yellow stones. “Because she stands against Dorothea.”

    “There’s nothing more we can do,” Daemon said wearily, wiping his hands on a soiled towel.

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire