Dreams Made Flesh (The Black Jewels #5)(49)
Author: Anne Bishop

One fast jerk that ripped more seams and she landed on his shoulder with awhoof that knocked the air out of her.

"Bring that one," he growled as he marched toward The Tavern, which was the closest place that had chairs and enough space to deal with… whatever this was.

The crowd, he noted sourly, didn’t move out of his way. Seeing where he was headed, they stampeded toward The Tavern to get ringside seats.

Great. Wonderful. At least they had sense enough to leave two tables empty.

He dumped Marian in an empty chair. When she popped right up again, he shoved her back into the chair and held her arms down as he leaned over her and said in his most menacing voice, "Sit down, Marian.Sit. "

His quiet, gentle hearth witch bared her teeth and snarled at him.

He would have kissed her for finally producing a decent snarl except he was fairly sure she’d bite him if he tried, and then she’d feel bad. Not as bad as he would, but once she came to her senses, she’d feel bad about doing it.

He kept Marian locked to the chair while two men brought a wailing Roxie into the tavern and settled her at the other empty table. Whatever had gotten Marian so riled up was still churning through her, so when he finally stepped back, he made sure she’d have to go through him in order to tangle with Roxie again.

"Now," he snarled as he looked at the people crowded into the tavern’s main room, "what in the name of Hell is going on?"

"She attacked me!" Roxie wailed. "Just because I told her she wasn’t going to work for us after I moved into the eyrie."

"Since you’re never going to move into the eyrie while I’m still living there, that’s not a problem," Lucivar snapped. He looked at Marian and shook his head. "Is that what this is about? Didn’t it occur to you she was lying?"

"Of course I knew she was lying," Marian snapped back. "But she _ said…"

"Iam going to live with you!" Roxie shouted as she continued to sob. "You want me. You know you do. When I was in your bed—"

"I told you I’d slit your throat if I ever found you there again," Lucivar said.

A collective gasp. Then the room fell silent.

"You didn’t mean it," Roxie sobbed. "You were bluffing to—"

"I don’t bluff."

Roxie stared at him.

Disgusted, Lucivar turned back to Marian. "Was that the whole of it? What else did she say?"

He saw Marian’s eyes shift from side to side, taking in all the people waiting for her answer. He watched her temper fade and her usual quiet nature surface.

"Nothing," she said.

There was more. He could tell by the way she wouldn’t meet his eyes that there was more. Well, he’d get it out of her after he got her back to the eyrie and checked her over to make sure the minor cuts and bruises he could see were the worst of her injuries.

"What else did she say?" asked a midnight voice from the doorway.

Hell’s fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful. The last thing he needed right now was Jaenelle stepping into this.

Marian looked at the Black Jewel hanging from the chain around Jaenelle’s neck, then looked into those sapphire eyes—and swallowed hard.

"She said she was going to tell people Lucivar tried to force himself on her so that he would have to serve her," Marian said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He’s an Ebon-gray Warlord Prince," Jaenelle said. "How would she control him?"

Marian licked her bloody lower lip. "With a Ring of Obedience."

Lucivar swore quietly, viciously, the memory of the pain that a Ring of Obedience could inflict shuddering through him.

"She’s a lying bitch!" Roxie shouted.

"Is she?" Jaenelle asked, her eyes never leaving Marian’s face. "There’s a simple way to tell. Are you willing to open your mind to me, Marian? Will you let me read your thoughts, your feelings, your heart? Will you open yourself to me, knowing that if what you said here is a lie, I will take you down into the abyss so deep it will shatter you, destroy you? Are you willing?"

Jaenelle, don’t do this,Lucivar thought.

Marian sat up straight. "Yes," she said. "I’ll open my mind to you."

Everyone in the tavern waited, hardly daring to breathe.

"And you, Roxie?" Jaenelle asked, turning toward the other witch. "Will you open your mind to me, knowing a lie will destroy you?"

Wailing, Roxie shook her head.

Lucivar suppressed a shudder when Jaenelle’s eyes pierced him. Her rage was a living thing, and it would take so little right now to set it free—with devastating results.

*I will deal with this, Lady,* he said.

*And you will report to me after you’ve dealt with it,* Jaenelle replied. *If Roxie’s taste for manipulating and controlling males has reached this point, it’s not just your life that’s at risk, Prince Yaslana.*

*I’m aware of that, Lady. I’ll deal with it.*

Jaenelle nodded. Then her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied Marian. *She has no injuries that require more healing skill than you possess, but I can do the healing if you prefer.*

*My thanks, Lady, but I’ll take care of her.* He sent a touch of arrogance through the psychic thread. *Besides, she owes me for trying to kick my balls into my throat.*

*I see. Then you must be pleased that she learned the lessons you insisted on teaching her.*

*She still punches like a girl.* He rubbed his sore jaw. *For the most part.*

He felt a hint of amusement from her, which was exactly what he’d hoped for. Her rage had turned aside, but it wouldn’t take much to bring it back -with lethal results. As much as he loved her, he breathed a sigh of relief when she walked out of The Tavern and caught the Winds to go back to the Keep.

Which left him with his muddy, bruised hearth witch and the sobbing bitch.

"You two," he said, pointing to the two Warlords who had assisted Roxie into the tavern. "Escort Lady Roxie home and inform her father that I’ll see him tomorrow."

"I want her punished!" Roxie wailed as the two men hauled her to her feet. "She attacked me! I want her punished!"

And I want you dead,Lucivar thought.But we can’t always have what we want.

He waited until Roxie was gone before turning to Marian. "As for you…"

She shrank back in the chair, her courage gone.

Shaking his head, he hauled her out of the chair. "Come on, witch-ling. Let’s get you home while you can still move. You’re not going to believe how sore you’ll be by tomorrow."

"Don’t you worry about setting a meal on the table, Marian," Merry called. "I’ll pack a basket and bring up a few dishes in a little while."