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She shuddered. "What do we do?"
"I don't know. I really don't know."
"Let's split up. Maybe we can learn something that will help end this."
Lucivar shook his head. "Daemon may already have all the information he needs."
Shit. She had a good idea whatthat meant. "I'm going to the ladies' lounge and freshen up. I'll meet you at the front door. I think I'd rather wait for the carriage outside."
He headed back to the ballroom to talk to Rainier, and she headed for the lounge. It had struck her as odd that a private home would have a "lounge" until she discovered the owners often "loaned" out the downstairs rooms for a "monetary gift." She didn't know why they couldn't just say they rented out their ballroom, but the lounge made sense, and right now, she was glad to have the privacy.
1
After taking care of personal needs, she sat down on a padded bench and closed her eyes.
"Are you feeling all right?"
Damn. She must be more tired than she thought. She hadn't even heard the woman enter.
She opened her eyes and studied the woman who stood nearby, looking concerned. The face looked vaguely familiar, but she was certain she'd never met the other witch. She was also certain there was something about the woman that wasn't quite… right. Something that put her on edge. Something that made her want to call in a knife.
She smiled and wrinkled her nose. "Just cramps," she lied. "Sometimes they're wicked mean."
"I know the feeling. Let me get you something to drink."
"No, that's all right." She shifted on the bench, prepared to get up and leave.
"It's no trouble. Really."
Suppressed excitement in the voice. A feverish glint in the eyes.
The witch opened the lounge door and whispered something to someone outside. Then she closed the door and leaned against it.
Bitch.Surreal felt fairly certain she'd just met the source of Daemon's problems, but considering Daemon's mood and Lucivar's worryabout Daemon's mood, she'd prefer being absolutely certain before she said anything to either of them. And there was still the question of why anyone would be foolish enough to play with a Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince.
It didn't take long before someone knocked on the door. The witch opened it, and another Dhemlan witch Surreal didn't recognize slipped into the room, carrying a glass.
Same suppressed excitement. Same feverish glint in the eyes.
The first witch took the glass from her companion, then handed it to Surreal. "Drink this. You'll feel better in no time."
Yeah. Cramps aren't a problem when you're dead,Surreal thought. As soon as the other woman let go of the glass, she used Craft to probe the liquid and the glass itself. No poisons. But therewas something in the sparkling wine. She didn't recognize the drug, but she could sense its presence. Probably meant to knock her out for a while. But why knockher out?
Obvious. They wanted her out of the way for some reason. Of course, if she was unconscious, she wouldn't be hard to kill.
Refuse the drink and put these two bitches on alert…maybe make them nervous enough to bolt…or drink it and hope she wasn't doing something stupid? Because if theydid end up killing her, Lucivar would help her make the transition to demon-dead just so he could spend a decade or two yelling at her, and the High Lord… Uncle Saetan would besooo pissed.
She studied the two women and saw a kernel of suspicion in the eyes of the witch who had first approached her. So she took a sip, figuring she could get enough of a sense of what the drug was without it disabling her.
She figured wrong. That one sip made the room lift and drop with stomach-churning speed. Her fingers went numb. The glass dropped to the floor. Her vision faded.
She made one attempt to contact Lucivar on a psychic thread, but even that was already beyond her ability.
"Ah, shit," she muttered before she tumbled off the bench.
Lektra suppressed the urge to give her rival a hard kick in the ribs. Or in the face. After all, she'd promised Tavey he could have the whore for a while, so it wasn't fair to damage the bitch beforehand. And itwas possible that the SaDiablo family would be upset if anything… permanent… happened to Surreal. But they could hardly complain about a whore spreading her legs for one more man. Besides, it wasn't like Tavey would bepaying for the sex.
"Let's get her out of here," Lektra said.
Roxie opened the lounge door, peeked out, then signaled. A moment later, a Sapphire-Jeweled Warlord slipped into the room.
Lektra didn't like the man. Rough manners, rough temper. Roxie had found him somewhere, and the payment that had been promised had been enough to make him put aside any qualms about being an "escort" for an unwilling witch.
"Take her to the country house as arranged, and keep her there until I say otherwise," Lektra said.
"Gets boring in the country," he growled.
"I'm sure you'll find something to do," she replied, glancing pointedly at Surreal.
He smiled…and she sincerely hoped she'd never see him again. Of course, once she and Daemon were married, she'd never have to worry about men likehim.
She watched him pull Surreal up off the floor. A moment later, he left the lounge, wrapped in a sight shield to avoid anyone inquiring about his presence at an aristo party…or about the woman slung over his shoulder.
"We'd better leave," Lektra said. "Have you seen Tavey?"
"Not since earlier this evening, when he left the ballroom," Roxie replied.
Tavey should have come back to report Daemon's reaction to their conversation. She'd seen her beautiful love carry that pale bitch out of the party. She hadn't liked that. He should have asked his brother to takeher home. No matter. He wouldn't have to cater to Jaenelle Angelline much longer.
"If we don't meet up with him on our way out, Tavey will have to make his own way home," Lektra said.
With Roxie discreetly staying in the background, Lektra made her way to the front door, slipping into the ballroom and making a point of being seen talking to Lady Zhara, who had arrived late…and also giving herself and Roxie a reason to avoid walking past Lucivar Yaslana on the chance that he might recognize Roxie by her psychic scent, despite the illusion spell.
As soon as he strode away from the front door, they hurried out and went home.
Swearing under his breath, Lucivar headed for the ladies' lounge. Hell's fire! How long did it take a woman to piss anyway?
He flung the door open and walked in, not caring if he walked in on a woman pulling down her pants or pulling them up. But the lounge area was empty, and the toilet wasn't occupied.
