Another flash in the sunlight. As Osvald's hand arced down to drive the knife into Wilhelmina's leg, Falonar sliced through the wristbones as easily as if they were soft butter, then turned the blade of his stick in order to catch the severed hand and the knife it still held and flip it away from Wilhelmina.

The bladed stick flashed down again, severing the hand that grasped Wilhelmina's ankle.

A moment later, Surreal reached Wilhelmina—and Lucivar and most of the First Circle males poured into the courtyard. So did Karla and Gabrielle.

So did Alexandra and her entourage.

It didn't turn out quite like you'd planned, did it?Surreal thought as she watched Alexandra scan the courtyard and turn sickly pale. Vanishing her knife, she placed one hand on Wilhelmina's back, the other hand on Graysfang as soon as he wobbled up to her, and created a Gray shield around the three of them. It probably wasn't necessary, but there was no reason to take chances. She looked at Falonar, who had positioned himself so that, the next time, the bladed stick would come down on the bastard's neck. She put a shield around him, too. She felt his surprise and pleasure when her shield settled around him—and wondered why he was afraid.

Gabrielle rushed over to help the footman while Karla, without actually touching Osvald, used healing Craft to seal the severed blood vessels.

"What's going on here?" Alexandra demanded, the sharp edge in her voice sounding more frightened than angry. "Why are you attacking one of my escorts?"

"Did you send him?" Lucivar asked, an odd note in his voice.

"I sent him to bring a gift to Wilhelmina," Alexandra said.

There was something queer and bitter about Lucivar's laugh. "And the bastard delivered it, didn't he?"

"When I went to deliver the gift, Lady Wilhelmina wasn't feeling well," Osvald whimpered. "I offered to walk with her so that she could get some fresh air. Then thatcreature attacked us."

Lucivar looked at Osvald, then at Falonar. "If that bastard says anything else, cut his tongue out."

Falonar looked shocked, but nodded.

"How dare you?" Alexandra said. "You're so quick to make demands tome about controlling my court, yet you allow this—"

"Shut up,"Lucivar snapped. "Things are bad enough right now. Don't make it worse."

Surreal gave Lucivar a sharp look. What was going on here?

Shivering, Graysfang moved closer to her. *Queen's rage is bad, Surreal. Males fear Queen's rage. Even Kaelas.*

Following the wolf's gaze, Surreal saw the huge white cat standing on the roof next to a tiger. That was Kaelas?Mother Night!

*Who's the tiger?* she asked.

*That is Jaal. He is Dejaal’s sire.*

Surreal swallowed hard. The tiger was dwarfed by Kaelas, but he was still twice as large as the young tiger lying in the courtyard. *Dejaal is dead, isn't he?*

*He has returned to the Darkness,* Graysfang said sadly.

How were they going to explain this to Jaenelle?

As if the thought had conjured the woman, Jaenelle walked into the courtyard, flanked by Daemon and Saetan.

Surreal might have taken some comfort in their presence if the High Lord's face hadn't turned gray at the sight of Dejaal's body.

Alexandra started to speak, but before she could make a sound, her hands flew up to her throat and her eyes became wide and terrified.

Surreal wasn't sure which one of the males had acted, but she would have bet it was Daemon who had created the phantom hand that was now choking Alexandra into silence.

Everyone moved out of the way as Jaenelle walked over and knelt beside Dejaal. The hand that caressed the fur was gentle and loving, but the eyes that finally looked up and focused on Wilhelmina...

What Surreal saw in those sapphire eyes went so far beyond cold rage there were no words for it.

Yes, there were, she realized as Graysfang whimpered softly.This was what the wolf had meant by Queen's rage.

Hell's fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful.

She said the only thing she could think of, the only thing that, she hoped, would release her from those eyes. "She's alive."

Jaenelle looked at Karla, who bowed formally before walking over to examine Wilhelmina.

"You said the right thing," Karla whispered to Surreal as she examined Wilhelmina. Then she swore and added, "Whatever else you do, follow Protocol to the letter." Taking a deep breath, she stood up and faced Jaenelle. "Wilhelmina has some bruises from the struggle—and she's been heavily drugged."

"Can you counteract it?" Jaenelle asked too calmly.

"I need more time to determine the exact nature of the drug that was used," Karla answered quietly. "But I'm sensing nothing that will cause permanent harm. My recommendation is closely supervised isolation and rest. With your permission, I'll take her to her room now and look after her."

"Thank you, Sister."

Responding to Karla's slight gesture, her cousin, Morton, picked up Wilhelmina and followed Karla out of the courtyard.

Surreal remained crouched beside Graysfang, unwilling to make a movement that would draw those sapphire eyes back in her direction.

"What about me?" Osvald whimpered.

Falonar glanced at Lucivar, silently asking if he should carry out his order and cut out the man's tongue. Lucivar shook his head, the barest of movements.

Jaenelle crossed the courtyard, looked down at Osvald, and smiled. "I'm going to take care of you personally."

Lucivar leaped forward. "Lady, with respect, Dejaal was our Brother, and it's the males' right—"

Jaenelle silenced him by simply raising her hand. For a moment, she just stood there, but Surreal felt the flick of power that burst from her as a quickly expanding psychic probe—and realized that no one wearing a Jewel lighter than the Gray would have sensed anything at all.

"There are three men waiting by the bridge that leads to Halaway," Jaenelle said. A terrible glitter filled her eyes as she looked at Osvald. "Three strangers. I don't care what you do with them."

Osvald floated to an upright position. When Jaenelle turned and walked out of the courtyard, he floated after her, protesting his innocence.

"Kalush and Morghann are coming," Gabrielle said, her eyes filling with tears. "We'll stay with Dejaal until..."

Pointing at Alexandra, Lucivar looked at Falonar. "You and Surreal escort these... people ... to their rooms." He paused. "Ifany of them give you any trouble, kill them."

"My pleasure," Surreal said. Falonar just nodded.

Lucivar left the courtyard, followed by the other Warlord Princes in the First Circle. When Daemon turned to follow them, Saetan said, "No. You stay with me."

Quickly rounding up her prisoners, Surreal hurried them—and Falonar and Graysfang—out of the courtyard. She didn't know what the High Lord had in mind, but she'd rather not be around while they discussed it.

Daemon stepped aside as Morghann and Kalush rushed into the courtyard.

"Let's get out of here," Saetan said, his voice rough with suppressed grief—and something that might have been fear.

It was that fear—and his concern for the man—that made Daemon follow his father. But even those things weren't sufficient for him to swallow his own anger.

As they slowly headed away from the courtyard, Daemon said, "I may not have Lucivar's talent with weapons, but I can deal with an enemy quite effectively."

Saetan stopped walking. "Remember who you're talking to, Prince. If anyone can appreciate how effective you are as a predator, it's me."

"Then why did you stop me?"

"Lucivar doesn't need your help to handle whoever is waiting at the bridge for that bastard—especially not with the males who went with him. But Ido need you. Right now, I need every drop of strength and every grain of skill you've got in order to handle Jaenelle. Hell's fire, Daemon. Don't you realize what happened here?"

With enormous effort, Daemon held on to his temper. "Alexandra played the bitch and arranged to have her own granddaughter abducted."

Saetan slowly shook his head. "Alexandra was working with Dorothea and Hekatah in order to abduct her own granddaughter."

Daemon absorbed the impact of the words—and realized what might happen once Jaenelle learnedthat. "Mother Night."

"And may the Darkness be merciful," Saetan added. "We have an enraged Queen who, by now, has gone so deep into the abyss we have no chance of reaching her that way—and no way at all to deflect whatever she might unleash in her present emotional state."

"What can I do?" Daemon asked, knowing with dread certainty where the conversation was leading.

"It's whatwe can do as Steward and Consort, what Protocol gives us theright to do in situations like this."

"Protocol didn't take into account dealing with a Queen who's twice as strong as a Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince!"

Saetan's hand shook a little as he smoothed his hair back. "More like six times our combined strength."

"What?" Daemon said weakly. He braced a hand against the wall.

"There's no real way to measure Jaenelle's strength. But considering the number of Birthright Black Jewels that were transformed into Ebony when she made the Offering to the Darkness, my best guess is that, at her full strength, she's six times more powerful than our full strength combined."

"Mother Night." Daemon concentrated on breathing for a minute. "Just when were you going to mention this to me? Or weren't you?"

Saetan winced. "I wanted you to be... comfortable... with each other before I told you. But now—"

A blast of power shook the Hall, tossing them to the floor.

Daemon felt as if he were desperately holding on to a crumbling bank inches from a raging flood that would not only sweep him away but crush him in the process.

He felt Saetan grab him, dig in, hold on.

That rush of power vanished as quickly as it had struck— and that scared him more than the blast. For Jaenelle to unleash and reabsorb that much power that quickly...