by Autumn Dawn
She did her best to ignore Keilor as he stood across the table, sheltering Urseya.
“You can do better, you know.”
Mildly startled, Keilor dragged his eyes back to his dinner companion, who was frowning at the remaining curry on her plate, absently poking it with her chopsticks. He didn’t pretend not to know what Urseya was talking about. This was the third time he’d lost the thread of her bright chatter and let his eyes rove across the table. “Could I?” No one was listening to them—all were caught up in a boyhood anecdote Fallon was sharing.
Urseya set down her chopsticks carefully, laying them across her plate to signal that she was finished. A servant immediately collected her plate, and she waited until she was done to continue. “The Sylph I have heard tales of are not known for their fidelity. Why take only one lover when one can have the adoration of hundreds...as well as the gifts.”
He answered carefully, being certain to keep his voice low. Jasmine would certainly never hear it. “And you fear that she would betray me?”
She shrugged. “One cannot say. Frankly, though, I’m a little surprised at our cousin allowing the Sylph around Jayems. I am not so certain that I would trust her around my mate.”
Keilor felt a stab of impatience at her thinly veiled jealousy, and was about to reply when Rihlia suddenly called, “Hey, Jasmine, you never did tell me what happened on your date with Chris. How did it go?” When Jasmine just blinked at her in confusion, Rihlia prompted teasingly, “You know, the hot date you had Friday night. I wasn’t there to hear a report, and in the confusion, I forgot to ask. How was it?”
Her friend shrugged. “It was dead on arrival. I should have known better.”
“No way!” Rihlia paused to thank the servant who set dessert before turning her attention back to Jasmine. “He was such a sweet guy. Cute, too. What happened?” She took a bite of coconut mousse, watching Jasmine from the corner of her eye while she waited for an answer.
Jasmine squirmed a little under the family’s scrutiny. She never had liked being on the spot. Deciding that a short answer might turn away curiosity, she said succinctly, “He was thirty-five and he still lived with his mother.”
“So? She was ill,” Rihlia replied, indignant. “I think it’s great that he took care of her in her old age. Lots of people would have packed her off to a nursing home.”
Jasmine drummed her fingers on the tablecloth in irritation. It wasn’t like Wiley to play devil’s advocate. “The man just couldn’t cut the cord, Wi—” She glanced at Keilor’s raised brow and scowled. “Rihlia. He wouldn’t even buy a car without consulting her.”
Portae frowned at her. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with consulting one’s elders before making important decisions, young woman.” She lifted a brow at her son Fallon, who rolled his eyes. “Frankly, I wish more young people would have the wisdom to do so.”
Jasmine continued on as if there had been no interruptions, feeling rather like the subject of an inquisition. “Actually, he told me he was afraid of offending her because she might cut him out of her will and give everything to his sister.” She paused for effect. “Apparently his mother is loaded.”
“Oh.” Portae had no reply for that.
“Yeah, ‘oh’, and he actually told me that he couldn’t consider marrying someone his mother disapproved of,” she huffed indignantly. “I mean, the guy hadn’t even made it to first base yet, and here he is talking about marriage! Not only that, but when dinner arrived, he didn’t like the way they’d cooked his steak. But does he do anything about it? No. Instead he spends the rest of the meal whining about the poor service and the lousy food.” She made a face. “By the time the jerk stiffed the waitress for the tip and walked me to my car, I was more than happy to see the end of him.”
Fallon gave her a lazy smile and let his eyes drift down to her mouth. “I don’t suppose this was the slug kisser, was it?”
Jasmine grimaced. “This guy didn’t rate a kiss.”
Grinning mischievously, Rihlia asked, “How is Michael, anyway?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Why was Wiley baiting her? Jasmine scowled at her untouched dessert, muttering, “At least now I won’t have to worry about avoiding him, either.”
Urseya raised an arch brow at Keilor. You see? Now the truth comes out. He frowned at her. “Was it a very bad ending?” she inquired with cheerful interest.
Rihlia laughed and shook her head. “Only if you count telling the poor guy—on the phone, mind you—never to call her again and then hanging up before he could say anything about it.”
“There was no point in dragging it out,” Jasmine said with stiff dignity. Wiley was painting a rather ugly picture of her romantic life, and she didn’t care for it one bit. Besides, what was she doing, dragging all the skeletons out of her closet in public like this? She didn’t notice that the others at the table were beginning to look at Rihlia, wondering the same thing.
Rihlia did notice, but ignored it with determination. Jasmine would thank her later for dampening the interest of the males present. She didn’t need their kind of attention. Jasmine deserved better, and she was determined to see her get it. “I guess it’s like that poem you dedicated to poor Josh, huh? If they’re gutless when you meet them, they’ll be gutless ‘til they die; the man was a mama’s boy, so I left him there to cry.”
Dead silence greeted her recital. Finally Jasmine said slowly, “You know, B.B., if you’d like to rehash old flames, I’m sure that I could come up with a tale or two to amuse your family. Like that time that I found you getting it hot and heavy with—”
“Uh, that’s ok, Jas,” Rihlia hastily interrupted. Jasmine’s threat was clear. Not only was she threatening to spill all of her secrets—not that they were excessive, just potentially embarrassing—but she would start calling her Blue Balls as well, the name given to her by frustrated boyfriends, and seal the humiliation. “We don’t want to bore them with that.” She glanced at the glowering Jayems and gulped. “Why don’t you try the custard? It’s really very good.”
Jasmine gave her a look but slowly lifted her spoon and tasted the treat while Rihlia asked Jayems to refill her wineglass.
Noting her friend’s distress and eager to lift the tension that had settled over the table, Jasmine snatched the glass before it could make it to Rihlia’s trembling lips and gave her a roguish smile. “Royalty really ought to have a taste tester, don’t you think?” Grinning, she took a large swallow of the golden wine.
Rihlia laughed in grateful relief and looked down, shaking her head. “Are you sure it’s not the job of court jester you’re after?” When there was no answer, she looked up and saw Jasmine frozen with an odd look on her face. “Jasmine?” Jasmine blinked, but she didn’t move. Rihlia half rose from her chair. Something was wrong! “Jasmine? What are you doing?” Fear crept into her voice. “This isn’t funny!”
Colors swam before Jasmine’s frozen eyes. Her muscles went weak and then spasmed without warning, shattering the glass in her hand. Someone screamed and male voices cursed as strong arms wrapped around her, giving her support. She felt the blood and wine flowing over her hand, but could neither unclench her fist from around the glass shards nor see , for the room began to blacken. Past the roaring in her ears she dimly heard Rihlia shouting...something....
And then the screaming began.
Keilor swore and leapt over the table the moment the glass shattered, but in spite of his best efforts and Fallon’s holding Jasmine’s body steady, he could not unclench her hand, short of breaking it. Her body shuddered again and the cords of her neck stood out with the strain as her muscles contracted, driving the shards deeper into her hand and causing fresh blood to flow. Rihlia screamed again and fought against Jayems’ hold, struggling to reach her friend. In the background Keilor heard him telling her, “They are helping her, Rihlia! We have to stay out of their way.”
“She’s hurting!” she shrieked, nearly wild, and he dragged her back even
farther.
“Love, sweet love...” he soothed, stroking her hair helplessly, and his words faded into a murmur as Keilor pressed the nerves in Jasmine’s hand, forcing it to open and working quickly to pick out the largest fragments.
Jasmine moaned, a low, tortured sound, and then collapsed in on herself, rolling into a tight ball.
The first tortured shriek caught him off guard and he saw Fallon pale and press his lips tightly together. Vengeance took up a war drum in his blood and he saw the same need mirrored in Fallon’s hard eyes. Someone would pay for harming this innocent woman, and pay dearly.
“She’ll live,” The medic announced as he entered the nearly empty clinic waiting room. He nodded respectfully to the party of four who’d been waiting more than two hours for his verdict. Keilor, who had just sat down from his last restless circuit of the room, closed his eyes, and some of the tension drained from him.
Rihlia lifted her head from her hands, exposing heartbroken, tear swollen eyes. Her voice hoarse, she asked, “Will she be all right?”
The medic sighed and crossed his arms, rocking back on his heels. “There is unlikely to be brain damage, and I believe that most of her organs will make a full recovery, but her recovery is bound to be slow. The chemical we found in her blood is most deadly to humans. Frankly, I’m surprised she survived it at all.”
Keilor sucked in a breath and Fallon swore softly as Jayems put a supporting arm around his wife. She allowed him to hold her as he kissed her hair and murmured soothing words, slowly shaking her head.
“What was it?” Keilor demanded.
The medic’s lips tightened as he stared at the polished stone floor. “Its scientific name is Libran, but you might know it better as Sweet Surrender.” He smiled without humor. “It would seem someone tried to slip your Sylph an aphrodisiac, and ended up with a nasty surprise instead.”
Keilor turned lethal eyes on Fallon, who was watching him with an equally savage expression. Each assessed and dismissed the other as suspects at the same time. Fallon was far too proud to resort to such an underhanded scheme, and as for Keilor...he held no love for Libran.
“But...it happened after she drank from my glass,” Rihlia ventured uncertainly.
“The dessert,” Jayems said with grim conviction. “She took a bite of the dessert just before she drank form your cup, Rihlia.” He glanced at Keilor. “But who and why? No one was going to get past the guards at her door without my permission first. And if it wasn’t one of us...”
Keilor frowned at Fallon. “Your mother does want you to bond, but...” There was a silence as they considered just how far the manipulative Portae would go to secure a daughter-in-law. Considering the lengths she’d gone to in the past to manage her only son’s life, there was no telling what she was capable of, and Jasmine was the first woman he’d ever shown a serious interest in...And what of the others?
“Had the drug been in your dessert, Keilor, I would have suspected Urseya.” Jayems smiled faintly. “Under the circumstances, though, I can’t see her wishing to inflame Jasmine, lest she be forced to toast the pair of you at your wedding feast.”
His dark cousin gave him a sardonic smile.
“You give up on me too soon, Jayems,” Fallon interjected smoothly. “The lady might have preferred to spend the night in my bed .”
Rihlia stood up, fists clenched. “You leave her alone!”
Surprised by the fury of her command, the three men regarded her with uncertainty.
Fallon tried to soothe her. “We jest, cousin,” he assured her. “No one is going to treat Jasmine with less than honor and courtesy. Surely Jayems has explained to you—”
“Just this morning you told me, Keilor, that the only thing that you men feel for Jasmine is lust.” When he didn’t respond to her challenge, she continued tightly, “Well, I’m taking you at your word, and I’m telling you, commanding you, to leave her alone. She deserves far better than a man who’s only interest in her is—”
“Keilor speaks for himself if he said such things, Rihlia.” Fallon glowered Keilor, who said nothing to defend himself. “I admire your friend, respect her, and I—”
“Admiration is not enough,” she answered him coldly. “She deserves a lot more—”
“Rihlia...” Jayems warned.
“—than that. She needs someone who’ll love her,” she finished angrily.
Fallon was silent for a moment. Private matters of the heart were never broached unless the subject first brought them up. To question a man’s honor and inquire into his motives, all at the same time...His jaw ticked when he said, “If you are looking to know my heart, it’s not yours to know.” The expression on his face when she made to interrupt him was so savage that she stopped before uttering a word. “If your friend wishes to know, I will speak truthfully with her. Until then...” He softened his voice a little. “Be satisfied that she is in good hands.”
Rihlia swallowed hard and stared at one of the many potted plants dotting the room. “What about the other? What will you do when she finds out about the Haunt?” Silence followed her comment.
All three men had been there the night Rihlia had been found. She had been wary from the beginning of the three strangers who had suddenly appeared in her camp, emerging from the shadows as if they owned the night, and she had not gone willingly to the Dark Lands. Worse than that, when she had attempted to use the only weapon she had left on them, the one thing that they now knew she feared above all else, Jayems had shown her the true nature of the Haunt.
Tonight had been the first night since then that she had willingly suffered his touch.
Keilor waved a hand irritably, dismissing her fears. “Jasmine’s made of stern stuff, Rihlia, and loyal. I think she’d settle down quickly after she became used to the idea.” He gave her a level look. “Your friend is the type to face her problems, not to turn and run.”
Rihlia raised her chin. “Have you seen how she looks at the soldiers?” she countered, ignoring the subtle reference to her own situation. “She’s never relaxed around them, never forgets their presence for a moment. If one of them makes an unexpected move, she tenses and watches him as if she expects him to try and eat her at any moment.” Keilor winced, and she nodded, vindicated. “How do you think she’d react to the announcement that you were one?”
Rihlia was curled up in a fat chair she’d moved beside Jasmine’s bed, knitting, when Jasmine finally woke up. She immediately set aside her needles and came to sit on the big bed.
“How are you doing, Jas?” she asked softly, lightly feeling Jasmine’s forehead with the back of her fingers. She smiled. “You look better, and your skin’s not clammy anymore.”
Jasmine frowned, sifting details through her sleepy brain. She lifted her bandaged hand, regarding it with sleep swollen eyes as memories trickled through her awakening brain. “The glass,” she croaked. Her throat was still sore from screaming.
“Yes. It took the medics a long while to get all the pieces out.” Rihlia helped her to take a sip of water, adjusting the straw so that she could drink without sitting up.
Sighing, Jasmine closed her eyes and relaxed back into the pillows. “Did they figure out who tried to poison you?”
There was a pause. “Um...Jas? It wasn’t poison.” One eye opened and looked at her. “It was an aphrodisiac.”
Jasmine’s eyes opened wide and she started to sit up, groaning when her sore muscles and tender stomach protested. Temporarily defeated, she flopped back down, allowing Rihlia to fluff the pillows behind her head. She asked sharply, “Someone gave you an aphrodisiac?”
Rihlia sighed. “Someone gave you an aphrodisiac, Jas, only it backfired.” She bit her lower lip. “It acted on your body like a poison.” Jasmine stared at her for a long moment and then her face began to darken. Before she could explode, Rihlia hastily said, “It wasn’t one of the men. You should have seen their faces—” She took a pause. “Nobody has any proof, but we think it might have been Fallon’s mot
her.” A queer look passed over Jasmine’s face, and Rihlia smirked. “Not for herself, silly! Apparently she wants Fallon to get married pretty badly. She might have used the stuff for that, never dreaming that she might kill her future daughter-in-law.”
There wasn’t much Jasmine could say to that without a great deal of thought, and she felt too drained at the moment to engage in lengthy internal debates. Instead she grumbled, “So I’m going to be all right? There’s no lasting effects to this stuff?”
Rihlia studied the quilt. “The medic said that you’ll be all right, except for...” She cleared her throat uncomfortably and shifted on the bed. “You might have a few hormonal problems at first.”
Jasmine narrowed her eyes. “Like what?” Sudden visions of sprouting facial hair taunted her. If Wiley’s aunt had made her into a bearded lady....
“Your sex drive. It...” Rihlia waffled a hand in the air uncomfortably. “Uh, you may not be able to feel, er, arousal for a little while.”
Jasmine squinted one eye. This was getting worse and worse. Not that she wasn’t grateful to be alive, and she’d never been a sexual dynamo, but not to feel any desire at all? Sheesh! “How long?”
“A few weeks, maybe. Or months.” Rihlia cringed. “Or maybe never.”
“Never!” Jasmine tried to shout, but it came out more of a croak. Never?
“Don’t worry!” her friend hastened to assure her, laying her hand on her arm. “They can give you hormone therapy if it doesn’t come back on it’s own, which your doctor is almost sure it will. You’ll be fine.”
“Great,” Jasmine rasped, furious. “Viagra for women.” She smacked her damaged hand on the bed and yowled with the pain. She’d forgotten it was injured.