Page 48


“I should—” Rainier began.


“Most wounded, first out,” Lucivar said.


No arguing withthat voice.


Rainier, the fool, argued anyway. “Surreal has been poisoned.”


Oh, shit.If Lucivar was pissed off before, now he wasreally pissed off.


Lucivar stared at Rainier. “Go,” he said too softly.


Surreal dropped the poker, dragged Dayle out of the corner, and brought her over to the hole.


Rainier was cursing softly and viciously as he got into position on the slide. She settled Dayle on his right side. As he put his arm around the girl, Surreal looked at the end of the slide and saw Jaenelle and Daemon waiting.


The poison blurred her vision, and she was glad. She really didn’t want a clear look at Sadi’s face right now.


She gave Rainier and Dayle a push, then watched them slide on air until they passed over the wrought-iron fence and all the tangled spells that had held them captive in this house.


By the time she got the boys on the slide and started them down, the hole Lucivar had made in the wall was half the size. The spells around the house were closing the hole, and there was no doubt in her mind that anyone left in the house when that hole closed completely wouldn’t be coming out. Ever.


“Lucivar…”


His head was turned, as if he was listening to something behind him. But there was nothing but blank wall behind him.


“Take the girl,” he said. “Go.”


“The hole is closing up. The three of us need to gonow. ”


He looked at her and snarled.


She couldn’t reach him. He would never listen. Not to her.


He’ll listen to Jaenelle.


She grabbed Sage and hustled to the hole, ignoring the way her feet couldn’t seem to find the floor. Since Lucivar wasn’t going to leave until she was gone, she needed to get herself and the girl outfast.


The poison made the ride down a little too exciting, and she felt giddy when Daemon helped her off the slide and set her on firm, unspelled ground.


“What—?” Jaenelle said, her voice sharp.


Then Daemon roared,“No!”


She saw Lucivar framed by the rapidly shrinking hole as he turned back toward something in the house.


A moment later, the hole closed and the exit was sealed shut.


TWENTY-FIVE


He had time, Surreal thought as she stared at the solid wall.


He could have gotten out. Why in the name of Hell had Lucivar turned back?


Thunder rolled over the house and shook the ground. She wasn’t sure if that was Daemon’s temper being given voice or Jaenelle’s.


But it was Daemon who bared his teeth in a snarl and wrapped one hand around a wrought-iron spike. She thought he was going to rip away a piece of fence. He was furious enough that he might not even need Craft to do it.


Instead, a section of fence suddenly fell to the ground, nothing more than a pile of metal shavings. That was a quieter—and more frightening—indication of the power and fury that had just blasted out of the man.


Then Daemon was running toward the house’s front door.


Jaenelle leaped to follow him, hit a Black shield, and bounced back. “Daemon!Daemon! ”


He didn’t stop, didn’t even check his stride—but the shield came down, and Jaenelle ran to catch up to him.


“Go,” Rainier said. “Help her stop him. I’ll shield the children.”


She ran. The poison seemed to slow her down a little more with every step, but she ran.


He’d reached the covered entranceway. Once he opened that door…


“Daemon!” Jaenelle shouted.


He spun to face her, his face filled with barely controlled fury.


“I amnot leaving my brother in that house!”


“Of course we’re not leaving him in that house,” Jaenelle snapped. “But—”


BOOM!


Surreal staggered. Stopped. Spun around as the side of the house exploded. "Rainier?"


"I’ve got a shield around us.Shit! I’ll layer the shields."


Debris rained down as a dark shape shot skyward with the speed of an arrow released from the bow. Past the fence and high above the trees beyond the property line.


Then those dark wings spread, pumped, caught the air, and began a wide circle back to the front door, where Daemon and Jaenelle waited.


“Who did Lucivar bring out with him?” Jaenelle asked, shading her eyes with one hand.


He’s an idiot, whoever he is,Surreal thought, hurrying to join Jaenelle and Daemon. The man, who was held by one wrist, was flailing around trying to get free. Lucivar was still high enough to skim over rooftops. If he let go, the fool would end up with broken bones or get impaled on the fence.


A gliding descent. The man’s feet barely cleared the fence. Then Lucivar backwinged, dropped his prey, and landed lightly on the walkway.


“Look what I found,” Lucivar said. His mouth curved in a savage smile as he looked at Daemon. “I think it’s a little writer-mouse who’s been scurrying in the walls.”


Daemon’s golden eyes became glazed and sleepy. He purred, “Jarvis Jenkell.”


“I built this house as research for a novel,” Jenkell said, sounding belligerent. “No one was forced to go inside.”


“You sent us invitations,” Daemon said.


“But no one was required to attend,” Jenkell replied.


Surreal thought about the wording of that invitation and snorted. Then she looked at Lucivar. He looked primed to crush another skull.


“That’s true,” Daemon said mildly. “We had a choice, even if the phrasing of the invitation implied otherwise. However…” He raised one eyebrow as he looked at Lucivar. “How many dead?”


“At least twenty,” Lucivar replied.


“Twenty people were killed to provide the entertainment.” Daemon pursed his lips, looked at Jenkell, and shook his head.


“Somehow, I don’t think they were given a choice.”


Jenkell’s forehead beaded with sweat, but he looked defiant. “Among the Blood, there is no law against murder. And I’m Blood, same as you.”


Surreal stared at Jenkell.Boyo, if you think being Blood makes you the same as Sadi, then you weren’t paying attention to that little detail we call caste.


“There is no law against murder,” Daemon agreed. “But there is a price. So I think—”


“Langston man.” The words came out in a vicious snarl.


Surreal took a step to the side to get a better look at the woman moving toward them in a predatory stalk.


Hell’s fire. Itwas Tersa.


“You tried to hurt the boy,” Tersa said. “And the other children, too. You lied to me. You said it was a surprise for the children.”


It was that, Surreal thought.


“Tersa.” Daemon turned toward Tersa, blocking her direct path to Jenkell.


She had known Tersa for centuries, had seen her when she was semilucid, lost in her visions, or just raving mad. But she’d never seen her when she was filled with a cold, wild fury.


Still focused on Jenkell, Tersa shifted to move around Daemon. “You tried to hurt the children. You tried to hurt my boys!”


She lunged at Jenkell, who squealed—squealed!—and turned to run.


Daemon caught Tersa. Lucivar caught Jenkell.


“Tersa, let me handle this.” Daemon tightened his grip on Tersa’s arms.“Mother.”


Jenkell froze. Surreal wanted to slap him for being an idiot twice over. Hadn’t he bothered to find out who she wasbefore he lured Tersa into helping him?


“Mother, let me handle this.”


They stared at each other, mother and son, and Surreal saw a truth about Daemon she’d never seen before.Mother Night. What he is…Not all of it came from his father.


Then Tersa held up something between them. Surreal couldn’t see what it was, but when Daemon looked down, he smiled. A cold, cruel smile.


He stepped back and turned to face Jenkell. “There is no law against murder. But there is a price. I rule this Territory. The people you killed to fuel this entertainment? They belonged to me. The Warlord Prince who was wounded works for me. The witch who was injured is family. Not to mention the harm you’ve done to my mother by using her in a scheme to kill her own son. Everything has a price, Jenkell. It’s time for you to pay the debt.”


Daemon walked up to the front door, then looked at Jaenelle. “Lady, would you mind holding the door?”


Jaenelle followed him up the steps.She was the one who opened the door and kept her hand on the latch while he walked past her into the house. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, nothing more than a shadowy figure.


Somewhere in the house, a gong sounded. One, two, three, four.


I guess the count starts over when a new game begins,Surreal thought.


She lost count. She wasn’t sure if there were echoes in her head or if the gong was really sounding that quickly.


Daemon walked back to the door, holding a pen in his hand. “Twenty-eight?” he asked Jaenelle.


“Twenty-eight,” she agreed as he slipped the pen into a jacket pocket.


He nodded at Lucivar, who dragged Jenkell up to the door.


“According to your rules, there are thirty exits in this house. Twenty-eight have now been closed. You have seventy-two hours to find either of the remaining two. I guarantee that no matter what you meet in this house, you will live through those seventy-two hours.”


Surreal shivered, hearing the threat beneath the words.


Jenkell, the idiot, looked relieved.


Then Daemon stepped out of the house, grabbed Jenkell by the shirt, and flung him into the front hallway.


Jaenelle released the latch and skipped back.


The door slammed shut.


Jaenelle and Daemon came down the steps to join her and Lucivar, and all four of them looked at Tersa.


“Why?” Jaenelle asked, her voice gentle. “If you wanted to help with the spooky house, why didn’t you say something to Marian or me? We would have been glad to have your help. We would still like your help.”