Page 67 of Birthright

“Not tonight, my niece,” Doran answered. “Both he and Bevin need their rest. You as well. Take Abbey to her chambers, then try to rest. I think the next few weeks are going to be…”

“Hell,” Jordan offered when she couldn’t find the right word. He was looking directly at me. Doran nodded at him as she looked back to me.

She ushered Bevin past me. “Go on, Keena, get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow, and you can see Manus.” I still hesitated.

Bevin reached out and touched my arm, still holding Abbey. “He will live, Keena. He will be irritating you again in no time.” I got a real smile from her that time, and the tension in my stomach eased a tiny bit.

Abbey’s tea helped me calm down even more. Bevin had only said Manus would live. She’d not been very specific. But for tonight, having him alive was enough. I’d worry about anything else later. Abbey was on the chopping-block table swirling her spoon in her mug. I sat on my usual stool. “If I could have just held myself together…”

“Then you’d have been killed,” she said.

“None of us were armed.” Jordan’s voice came from behind me, making me spill my tea on my lap. He laughed. “Turnabout is fair play.” I almost laughed too, but my body wasn’t as occupied with Manus anymore and it lurched to attention at his appearance, even looking as disheveled as he did.

I can do this, I told myself, making sure my mental wall was up and taking in a deep breath. “If I hadn’t run out, we would have all probably left together, and that woman wouldn’t be dead.” There. I managed to think over the need rising in the middle of my stomach.

“We’d have all left together and we could all be dead, Keena. Don’t blame yourself.” He took a step closer. Too close. My walls came crashing down as well as my will to overcome. I was breathing way too fast. How could I be thinking about sex when Manus was hurt and Deirdre dead? I was swimming in lust and could do nothing about it. I stood up and backed away from him.

Jordan’s head dropped. He took in a deep breath. “Keena, your wall. I can’t think when I can feel all that from you.” His hands were in fists, his pulse pounding hard against his thick neck. I wanted to run my tongue over it. I tried to block him and managed for just a moment, but couldn’t maintain. He took in another deep breath.

“Think baseball!” Abbey shouted. “Both of you!” I looked at her, stunned for a second, and her diversion allowed me to hold the walls up. How embarrassing. I could feel the blush running up my face.

“Priestess, there are guards at your outer doors. You’ll have to keep them closed.” I drew in a breath. I loved my doors being open. “I know this will be limiting for you to have all the necessary precautions, but it’s a must. Doors closed. No runs.” He raised an eyebrow. “And I want to know about Karackos.”

“I…I have to go.” It was too much to deal with, too much sensory input—worry, fear, anger, and desire. I stumbled sideways and darted past him and out of the kitchen.

He called down the hall after me. “Keena. Priestess!” I heard him curse. “Listen to me!” His arrogance and control rolled down the hall after me like his voice.

True to his word, Jordan had a Magician outside my chambers. I approached slowly, hoping my urges didn’t extend to him. He was tall, thin, and attractive, and was standing in the usual bodyguard stance. Up against the wall, one hand crossed over another. He saw me and nodded his head as I passed and went in. Evidently, my mandar didn’t put him in the have-to-have category, which was currently only occupied with Jordan, King of the Arrogant.

Both French doors were closed, and the thin sheers were pulled to block out the night. The room seemed smaller. Thanks to the lights that had been set up outside, I could see the silhouettes of other guards standing outside each door. It was dark and lonely in the room all of a sudden. I sat on the bed watching the silhouette of a guard move back and forth across one door.

Suddenly an eerie cold came over me. I stood and looked around the dark room. I felt something odd and used my magic to light the candles.

One lone Slaugh stood next to the door in the far corner. He was next to the cabinet that held all my weapons, pushed into the corner. I almost yelled out to the guards before noticing a small puddle of something that looked like blood on the floor at his feet. The blood wasn’t crimson but dark and sticky, like blood that had been exposed to the air for a while. I stood and watched another dark, sticky drop splat into the puddle.

He said something faint. Since the Slaugh only whisper at their best, with him injured, I couldn’t make out the words.

I started to make a move toward him. He shook his head and the hood fell back, revealing a head that was little more than a skull with taut, decrepit flesh straining across the bone structure. Deep-seated eyes glowed red, distant and weak. “I am Dannaiva,” he said, struggling to speak. “I was second to Bran.”

I took one more tentative step. If he’d wanted to jump me, he could have as soon as I entered the room and I’d be dead. No more running around unarmed for this Witch, even inside the manor. Jordan was right about that.

He took another raspy breath. “Nessum has not returned to us. Most of the others are planning…” He had to make a concentrated effort to take in air. “The humans. Chaos.”

“Why?”

“They want to walk free again. Even if you are what the prophecy says, the Slaugh will never walk free, Priestess.” He seemed to be doing a bit better. “Humans will never accept the Grim Reaper roaming among them.” I pulled one of the chairs away from the dining table and pushed it toward him. He didn’t move to take it. “They do not seem to realize if they start the destruction of humanity, they are destroying their own food source.”

“Food?” I felt like I should ask more.

“We feed off the evil in souls, priestess. If my people start wars and famine and disease to tempt souls to the dark, then eventually there will be little left. They feel the overpopulation of humans will leave plenty after some of them destroy themselves and each other. But you know modern humanity. Modern technology fuels mass destruction…

“Feldema’s entrapment and Nessum’s fear of you have left us without leadership. I and others have tried to talk sense to the masses, but…” He faltered, the puddle at his feet growing fast.

“You’re hurt. I’ll get some help.” I started toward the door.

“No!” It was the loudest word I had ever heard from a Slaugh. “I am dead already.” He held up his arms and let the sleeves on the robe fall back to his elbows. His hands had both been cut off above the wrists. “They will kill me no matter what now. The rest of the upper ranks are already dead. Feldema must call Nessum back to her or the others will destroy everything. They are joining ranks with the Gremlins who have sided with us for centuries. A war comes.”

“Feldema can call to Nessum?”