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  • Home > Anne Bishop > Black Jewels > Twilight's Dawn (Chapter 148)      Page
  • Twilight's Dawn(Black Jewels,Book 9)(148) by Anne Bishop
  • Lucivar settled into a fighting stance, his wings half spread for balance—an instinctive response. “Am I here to help her drain her Jewels or to help you have a chat with the c**k who danced with her?”

    “I am the c**k who danced with her,” Daemon crooned.

    His lungs locked, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. “You?”

    Daemon smiled.

    Lucivar shuddered. “I’d like to talk to Surreal.”

    “You don’t need my permission.”

    “Today I do.”

    Daemon’s smile became more gentle—and more terrifying. “Yes, today you do.”

    Would I have walked out of this room intact if I hadn’t known that? He didn’t need to ask the question when he already knew the answer.

    The study door opened, Daemon’s invitation for him to leave.

    Turning his back on the Sadist was playing with suicide, but he did it. When he reached the door, Daemon said, “Lucivar? I want this baby.”

    Lucivar looked over his shoulder. “I’ll talk to Surreal. And then you and I will talk.”

    He walked out of the study. Beale stood in the great hall at the doorway leading to the informal receiving room and the staircase that led to the family wing.

    “Anything I need to know?” he asked the butler.

    “Lady Surreal saw her Healer in Amdarh and was given a tonic to help her body adjust to . . .” Beale fumbled, clearly reluctant to speak of something so personal when it pertained to the SaDiablo family—especially when none of them knew if Daemon would take offense at someone talking about Surreal.

    Lucivar nodded so that Beale didn’t have to continue. “I’m going up now to talk to her—with the Prince’s permission.”

    “I don’t believe Lady Surreal’s Jewels have been drained yet,” Beale said.

    Not something I can do for her now, Lucivar thought as he strode through the corridors that led to Surreal’s suite.

    Blood was the living river, and the body was the vessel for the power that made the Blood who and what they were. But everything had a price. When a witch wore darker Jewels, her moontimes were more uncomfortable and the pain of doing more than basic Craft during the first three days was fierce. That was the reason they drained their Jewels before a moontime—to let the body rest. And when they were pregnant, they submitted to someone else draining the reserve power in their Jewels so that their power didn’t try to fill the child in the womb—and destroy it.

    He rapped once on Surreal’s sitting room door and went in before she answered. One look at her had him yanking back his temper because she didn’t need a man yelling at her, but he couldn’t stop himself from going up to the windows where she stood and opening his wings halfway to look more intimidating.

    “Get off your feet,” he snarled.

    “Take a piss in the wind,” she snarled back.

    Relieved that she didn’t sound as sick as she looked, he took a step back to give her some room.

    “Aren’t you going to ask how this happened?” Surreal said.

    “I have two children. I know how it happened. What I don’t know is what you want to do about it.”

    “Do about it? I’m keeping it! How could you think I would . . .” She burst into tears.

    “Ah, Surreal.” He put his arms around her and cuddled her while she cried. “That isn’t what I meant.”

    “I’m not upset,” she said, still crying. “My body is doing strange things, and it’s making me weepy. And being weepy because I can’t help it is not the same as being upset.”

    Lucivar rubbed his cheek against her hair. “It will be all right. In a couple of days, you’ll swing over to bitchy and that will feel more normal to you.”

    She punched him. He laughed.

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire