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He wasn’t beingshe wouldn’t know the difference He was teasing because he wanted ale, and his smile invited her to pretend she believed the fib

He understood her Daemon listened, and he loved her Jaenelle listened too And Saetan But Lucivar rode her currents of words like he rode currents of air, following a path that wasn’t ht his that she couldn’t explain any other way, and trusted him to eventually show the others

His mother didn’t want him Couldn’t love hilorious wings that looked like dark silk when he spread them wide What a foolish reason to hate a child

So, in a way, he had becoirl child who had been forged into a warrior by pain and blood and fear Never like a daughter, but always a friend Soston ently touched the fraston man for whatever harm she had done--and she would pay her debt

TWENTY

Lucivar looked around the dining roo, an eyrie could look gloomy too, but that was balanced by the fact that an eyrie was built of stone and had the strength and character of being part of the land around it

There was no excuse forer, since Surreal and Rainier weren’t there, but he set his pack down on the dining room table and circled the roo of interest

Like the reason soes and then replaced the door with enough care that a casual glance around the rooe

As he came abreast of the door, the knob rattled, as if so to entice whoever was in the roo the war blade to his left hand, he stood on the hinge side and closed his right hand over the doorknob, using the length of his arm as a brace to keep the cupboard’s occupant fro the door down

As soon as he started to open the door, so to knock it down on top of hi it as a shield as the ene its prey

He tossed the door and flipped the war blade back to his right hand The door’s crash had the witch turning to face hih of her face was left for hih of her psychic scent was left, despite the layers of rage, for hi the living In fact…

Hearth witch She had been a hearth witch, and someone had burned her Not a fast fireto torture the body and break the mind

Her face blurred Becaain his emotional balance and evade her

His heart went nuht her by the back of the neck and threw her against the wall Before she could recover, he followed, pressing her head between his hand and the wall Then he let te hih bone and brains

He kept his hand pressed against the wall, capturing bits of skull and brain while her body slumped to the floor

Still there Her Self was still there, chained to a deore off his hand, then wiped off the rest on her dress

As he crouched there, too close to the sight of her, the smell of her, hthts

Two naked…things…floated out of the hut into the light An hour ago, they had been a woone So was the long, lovely hair Daeone, as well as his hands and feet Their wings were so crisped, the slightthat cold, cruel smile, the Sadist released his hold on Marian and Daean screas and fell When she landed, her skin split, and…

The Sadist hadn’t just burned them; he had cooked them--and they were still alive Not even demon-dead Alive

"Lucivar," Marian whispered hoarsely as she tried to craard her husband "Lucivar"

Lucivar stood up, backed away fro but elaborate shadows, knowing that his response would convince Dorothea and Hekatah that the Sadist had actually cooked his brother’s wife and son That gaet Marian and Daemonar away from the cah price for Marian and Daehts when he woke up in a cold sweat, certain there was a lingering odor of burned hair and cooked flesh in the bedrooht provocation, the Sadist was capable of playing out that kind of game for real

He studied the hearth witch Was that why she had been killed this way? Had Jenkell been trying to kindle that ainst each other so they would focus thoughts and tempers on each other instead of this house? Who could have told Jenkell what happened in that camp?

Or had the little bastard killed the witch that way just for the fun of it?