Daughter of the Blood (The Black Jewels #1)

Daughter of the Blood (The Black Jewels #1) Page 77

"Heal the body, Jaenelle!" Daemon shouted, fighting to keep her connected to her body while she tried to throw him off. "Heal it!"

Her fear pounded against his mind.

"You lied to me. You LIED!"

"I would have said anything, done anything to get you back," he roared, his nails digging in to hold her. "Heal it!"

"Letmego letmego letmego."

Bodies fought. Selves fought. As they tangled furiously, he felt Saetan slip the tether around her leg.

One flick of the power within her would tear him apart, would set her free. Instead she begged, pleaded.

"Daemon, please. You're my friend. Please."

It hurt to hear her beg.

"Witch-child." Saetan's voice, cracked and trembling.

Jaenelle stopped fighting. "Saetan?"

"We don't want to lose you, witch-child."

"You won't lose me. I can see you all in the misty place."

Saetan's words came slowly, as if each one pained him. "No, Jaenelle. You won't see us in the misty place. If you don't heal your body, Daemon and I will be destroyed."

Daemon's breath hissed through his teeth. The Sadist wasn't the only one who could spin a deadly trap.

Her wail filled their minds, filled his ears as the child body echoed the sound.

He felt a tidal wave of dark power rush up out of the abyss, felt it fill the young body he held in his arms, felt it mend torn flesh.

Her body relaxed, went limp.

Daemon raised a shaking hand to stroke her golden hair.

"I'm sick," Jaenelle said, her voice muffled against his chest.

"No, sweetheart," he corrected gently. "You're hurt. That's different. But we'll get you to a safe place and—"

The Sanctuary shook as someone unleashed a dark Jewel.

An angry male voice changed to a terrified shriek.

Jaenelle screamed.

Daemon dove into the abyss a second before she did, catching her at the Red as she tried to flee the body.

Sucking the power from the chalice, he held onto her.

Pieces wobbled.

"No, Daemon," Jaenelle shrieked. "You can't. You can't." Suddenly she collapsed against his chest. "I healed the body. It's still hurt, but it will mend. Let me go. Please, let me go. You can have the body. You can use the body."

Daemon pressed her back against his chest. He rested his cheek against her gold mane. "No, sweetheart. No one's going to use your body but you." He closed his eyes and held her tight. "Listen, my Lady Witch. I lied to you, and I'm sorry. So very sorry. But I lied because I love you. I hope you'll understand that one day."

She sagged against him, saying nothing.

"Listen to me," he said softly. "We're going to take your body away from here. We'll keep it safe. Is there some landmark in the misty place that you can always find?"

She nodded wearily.

"There's a tether around your leg. Take it off and tie it around that landmark. That way, when you're ready, it'll show you the way back." It took him a moment to say the rest. "Please, Jaenelle, please repair the chalice. Find the shards and put it back together. Return to the body when the Priest tells you it's safe. Grow up and have a rich life. We need you, Lady. Come back and walk among those who love you, those who have longed for you." He let her go.

She hesitated a moment before leaping away from him. When there was enough distance between them, she turned around.

Daemon swallowed hard. "Try to remember that I love you. And if you can, please forgive me."

He felt her lightly touch his mind, felt her dark power reform the thin skin that held him together. She closed her sapphire eyes. He watched her shape change.

When she opened her eyes, Jaenelle stood before him, not quite a woman but no longer a child. "Daemon," she said, her voice a soft, sighing caress. Then she dove into the abyss, and his heart shattered. He made the ascent for the last time and tumbled into his body.

He heard angry male voices coming from the outer rooms. He heard shrieks of pain. Heard stone exploding. Heard the sizzle of power meeting power.

He didn't move. Didn't try. He laid his head on Jaenelle's chest and wept silently, bitterly.

"Daemon." Saetan brushed against his mind and pulled back. "Daemon, what have you done?"

"I let her go," Daemon cried. "I told her you'd tell her when it was safe to come back. I told her about the tether. I let her go, Priest. Sweet Darkness, I let her go."

"What have you done to yourself?"

"I shattered the chalice. I lied to her. I seduced her into trusting me and I lied to her."

A brief touch, gentle and hesitant. "She'll understand, namesake. In time, she'll understand." Saetan faded, came back. "I can't hold the link anymore. Cassandra will open the Gate and take you—" Saetan was gone.

Daemon wiped his face with his sleeve. A little longer. He had to hold on a little longer. But he felt so empty, so terribly alone.

The sounds of fighting got closer. Closer.

Cassandra burst into the room. "There's no time left."

Daemon slid from the Altar and collapsed.

Ignoring him, Cassandra rushed over to the Altar and brushed her hand over Jaenelle's head. "You didn't bring her back."

Her anger sliced through the thin skin of power holding the chalice together, leaving weak spots.

"The body is healing," Daemon said hoarsely. "If you keep it safe, it will mend. And—"

Cassandra made a sharp, dismissive gesture.

Daemon cringed. The Altar room blurred. Sounds became muffled. He struggled to focus. Struggled to stand up.

By the time he was braced against the Altar, the bloody sheet was lying on the floor, Jaenelle was wrapped in a clean blanket, the black candles were lit, and the wall behind the Altar was turning to mist.

"How much time do you need?" Daemon asked.

Cassandra cradled Jaenelle in her arms and glanced at the mist. "Aren't you coming through the Gate?"

He wanted to go with them. Sweet Darkness, how he needed to go with them. But there was Surreal, who would keep fighting until he gave her a signal or she was destroyed.

And there was Lucivar.

Daemon shook his head. "Go," he whispered as tears filled his eyes. "Go."

"Count to ten," Cassandra said. "Then get rid of the candles. They won't be able to open the Gate without them." Holding Jaenelle tightly, she stepped into the mist and disappeared.

A male voice shouted, "There's a light!"

Surreal rushed into the Altar room. "I threw up a couple of shields to slow them down, but nothing short of blowing this place apart is going to hold them."

. . . four, five, six . . .

The Sanctuary rocked as the combined power of several Jewels blasted through one of the shields.

"Sadi, where . . ."

Another blast of power.

"Damn," Surreal hissed, pulling her knife from its sheath.

The angry voices came closer.

. . . eight, nine, ten.

Daemon tried to vanish the black candles. Not even that much power left. "Vanish the candles, Surreal. Hurry."

Surreal vanished the candles, grabbed Daemon's wrist, and hauled him through the stone wall just as Briarwood's uncles reached the Altar room's wrought-iron gate.

He wasn't prepared for a long pass through stone walls, and Surreal's attempt to shield him wasn't quite enough. By the time they finally got through the outside wall, his clothes were shredded and most of his skin was scraped raw.

"Shit, Sadi," Surreal said, grabbing him when his legs buckled. Using Craft to keep him upright, she studied his face. "Is she safe?"

Safe? He desperately needed to believe she was safe, that she would come back.

He started to cry.

Surreal wrapped her arms around him. "Come on, Daemon. I'll take you to Deje's. They'll never think to look for you in a Chaillot Red Moon house."

Before he could say anything, she caught the Green Web, taking him with her, first heading toward Pruul, then doubling back on other Webs, and finally heading for Chaillot and Deje's Red Moon house.

Daemon clung to Surreal as she flew along the Winds, too weak to argue, too spent to care. His heart, however . . . His heart held on fiercely to Jaenelle's soft, sighing caress of his name.

Everything has a price.