Selly didn’t comment. The man hadn’t seemed to hear either of them anyway. Perhaps waking him from whatever dream got him through this bizarre half-existence would be more cruel than anything else. She knew something about those mists and how, while their numbing fog could be maddening—further maddening, anyway—their shrouds also provided a level of comfort and protection.
They proceeded upward through twisting hallways and sporadic staircases, the décor growing grander as they went. The manse was clearly centuries old and bore witness to the generational wealth the Sammaels cultivated. Everything was meticulously maintained—markedly unlike House Phel with its graceful, homey decrepitude—and all in black. From the plush rugs to the brocaded wallpaper to the silken upholstery to the velvet window treatments to the polished wood, everything was in shades of black. Before this, Selly would’ve said black came in only one shade, and she’d have been woefully wrong. She’d also have said she liked black, but this overwhelming show of it felt oppressive and unnatural. She found herself longing for the vast and nuanced palette of nature even more than usual.
Finally they arrived at a salon not far from what appeared to be the great doors at the front of the house. Windows flanking the doors showed the road that wound up the crag, and beautiful blue skies beyond. The sight made tears spring to her eyes and her heart clench with longing. The jerk of the leash brought her back to the here and now, the wizard giving her an unpleasant smile. “This way,” she instructed, yanking Selly away from the view.
Selly followed the wizard into the salon, braced to confront whoever might be inside. Then gasped in utter shock and a surprising stab of unadulterated joy. “Jadren!”
The El-Adrel wizard raised a supercilious auburn brow at her. “Hallo, little familiar. Didn’t escape me so easily, did you?” He lounged elegantly on the black sofa, well-groomed and even clean-shaven, with no sign of the mortal injury that had felled him. He wore new clothes, all in black, that fit him as if tailored for him. They weren’t the fighting leathers he’d worn on the quest, but looked more suited for a formal party. In point of fact, he held a glass of very dark red wine—apparently the Sammaels couldn’t get black wine, or they surely would have—and raised it to his lips, sipping as if he didn’t have a care in the world, as if she weren’t filthy, hungry, and chained. Only his glittering gaze over the rim of the glass belied his pose, giving her a warning she couldn’t quite interpret.
This was like one of those nightmares where she was supposed to act in a play but no one had told her what role she was to perform nor what her lines should be. She settled for saying nothing, only glowering at him in all-purpose simmering betrayal. Jadren’s gaze slid off her again and returned to the other occupant of the room, a handsome older man with blond hair, wizard’s eyes, and a regal air. “Really, Lord Igino Sammael,” Jadren tutted. “You couldn’t have at least hosed her down for me?”
The blond man, Lord Sammael, apparently, flicked his gaze over her. “I doubt it would help much. She’s a scrawny, unattractive little thing. Leave us,” he added, without looking at the wizard. She seemed to know who he meant, because she dropped the leash with a heavy clatter and an unpleasant tug on Selly’s neck, then left, taking the tethered man with her.
“Stay a few days,” Lord Sammael suggested, twirling his own glass of wine. “We can clean the familiar up for you, perhaps teach her a few things. I’ve been told she’s quite rebellious. Another Phel rogue never properly trained. A disgrace to the Convocation and all we stand for,” he mused with considerable distaste, as if the existence of House Phel was a personal insult to him.
Selly was watching Jadren—who appeared to be considering the possibility, the fucker. She glared daggers at him and he cocked his head, giving her a condescending smile. “She is awfully starved and mangy,” he observed thoughtfully, then waved a negligent hand. “But, physical beauty is only icing with familiars. I agree that the real shame here is that this one was let go to seed. Hard to say if she can be recovered at all. Still, if you’d been to House Phel, you wouldn’t be at all surprised. Backwater rubes, the lot of them.” He swirled his wine and drank with an appreciative sound. “This is the first decent glass of wine I’ve had in ages.”
“Then stay.” Lord Sammael gestured to the remains of the feast, only crumbs remaining, laid before Jadren. “You deserve a bit of the finer life after what you’ve been through in the service of House El-Adrel and, by association, House Sammael.”
Selly stiffened, shooting daggers at Jadren with her eyes. Or, at least, trying to. If she were a wizard like Gabriel, she’d hurl silver spikes at him. Was all of this an inevitable betrayal? Jadren had admitted to being an El-Adrel spy, but she’d thought… what? That he wasn’t her enemy? Sammael was surely their enemy, and here Jadren sat in their house with their lord, happily feasting and talking about her like she was nothing. Less than nothing.
“I wish I could stay,” Jadren said on a heavy sigh, setting down his wine and getting to his feet. He gave Selly a decidedly jaundiced look. “But duty calls. Maman wants the Phel familiar and you know how she is about waiting.”
Lord Sammael smiled knowingly, sensually. It was not a nice smile. “Oh, I know. Making her wait for it is one of my favorite techniques to torment her. It’s what keeps her coming back for more.”
Jadren ignored the sexual implication. Or maybe Selly had imagined it. “So, now that you’ve returned my property to me, I must be on my way.”
Sammael frowned slightly. “You’ll explain the misunderstanding to your dear mother. The familiar is unbonded, so my hunters had no way of knowing she was yours.”
“Nor of knowing who I was, attempting to kill me like that.” Jadren tsked, then produced a genial smile that didn’t fool Selly.
Lord Sammael sighed, acting wounded. “I did make it up to you. My hunters are simple creatures and cannot always be trusted to understand the complicated relationships between humans. Next time, be sure to identify yourself to them.”
“Hopefully, there won’t be a next time,” Jadren replied, a hint of a lethal edge beneath the cheerful tone, “or even your special relationship with my maman won’t spare you from her wrath.”
Yuck. Selly hadn’t imagined that sexual implication. Did she even want to know? No. No, she didn’t.
“You know, Jaddy-boy…” Sammael tapped the arm of the chair with a black-manicured nail. “I believe you never did explain why you haven’t bonded the chit already. Surely you’ve had the opportunity. Unless you lack the ability?”
Selly listened keenly for Jadren’s answer. He hadn’t mentioned the bonding requiring particular ability. Was this the reason he’d never had a bonded familiar?
Jadren only laughed, shaking his head. “You actually believe I’d bond a familiar without Maman checking her out first? Especially one in this condition.” He looked Selly over, shaking his head in dismay.
“I always forget how obedient you lot are to her,” Sammael answered with a tight-lipped smile.
Jadren shrugged as if entirely unbothered. “I don’t forget. Speaking of which, I’ll take my familiar now.” He strolled over to Selly and sneered at the collar and leash. “You can keep your chains.”
“Are you certain you don’t want them? You seem to have difficulty hanging onto the creature.”
Curling a lip, Jadren unclipped the leash, then spun her around, undoing the manacles. “House El-Adrel doesn’t approve of such public displays. So gauche.”
“Just private ones,” Sammael quipped with a smirk.
Jadren hooked a finger in the collar and tugged. “The lock? I assume it’s coded to you. Maman would be most displeased to find your branded restraints on El-Adrel property.”
Lord Sammael’s expression darkened and, to Selly’s surprise, he actually seemed dismayed. “Overenthusiasm on the hunters’ part,” he explained, rising and tapping the iron collar with a finger. It released and Selly closed her eyes in relief, holding back from any further display that might reveal how very much she’d hated the thing.
“I have a solution,” Sammael said, looking pleased. “I’ll have one of my carriages convey you to House El-Adrel. It’s the least I can do to ensure you and your prize travel safely to your mother. That will make up for lost time.”
