"How much range does it have?" Karla asked. "If it gets activated, would Morton sense it even if he's not in the same city?"

Jaenelle gave her an odd look. "Karla, if something wakes the shield in that ring, not only will you have Morton pounding on your door, you're going to have Sceron, Jonah, Kaelas, Mistral, and Khary showing up on your doorstep—along with our Sisters in that part of the Realm."

"Mother Night!" Karla frowned at the ring. "But ... I know the boyos have used this shield on occasion and it didn't make the rest of them go berserk."

"I wouldn't count on their responding to a signal picked up from a ring worn by a Queen in the same way they respond to a signal from another Brother in the court," Jaenelle said dryly. "Besides, at this point, the males are' all attuned to each other. They can tell when to remain on alert but to wait for another signal and when to drop everything and head for the person in trouble with all possible speed."

"And you don't think they'll wait?"

"Not a chance."

Karla sighed. That was a little more male attention than she'd anticipated, and she was glad of the warning.

"I'll link it to your Gray Jewel now," Jaenelle said, holding out her right hand.

"Won't the boyos pick that up?" Karla asked, placing her right hand in Jaenelle's.

"Yes, and it will take them under two minutes to figure out that someone in the coven is wearing a ring they can connect with now."

Well, there's safety in numbers,Karla thought.With all of us wearing a ring like this —

"And it will take them about another minute to figure out the distinctive feel of this particular ring and recognize it as you."

"Hell's fire."

Jaenelle's smile was sympathetic but amused. "Wait until Lucivar shows up the first time. It's an experience."

"I'm sure it is," Karla mumbled.

A moment later, she felt a flash of cold followed by heat. The ring throbbed against her finger. The sensations faded, but she could sense the deep reservoir of power waiting just out of reach.

"The other thing to be aware of is that, when the shield wakes, the only people who will be able to reach you if you physically need help are the rest of the First Circle," Jaenelle said.

Karla nodded. "In that case, I'd better always wear it. It wouldn't do to have someone else slip it on and have that kind of protection."

"No one else can wear this ring. It was made for you. If anyone else tried to activate the shield, the results would be ... unpleasant."

"I see." She didn't ask Jaenelle to define "unpleasant."

Jaenelle studied Karla for a moment. "Wear it well, Sister."

"Thank you. I will."

"I'd better see that the rest of the coven gets their rings." Jaenelle picked up the bag that held the other ring boxes, then hesitated. "Do you really have to leave tomorrow?" she asked a little plaintively.

"Duty calls," Karla said with a smile. She waited until Jaenelle left the room before adding, "And Uncle Saetan made it quite clear that no excuse for staying would be considered acceptable."

All the Queens were returning to their home Territories. So were the First Circle males. Lucivar was taking his family and the other Eyriens to Ebon Rih. Surreal and Wilhelmina would go with him as well. Andulvar and Prothvar were already on their way to Askavi, and Mephis had left for his town house in Amdarh.

She understood why Saetan was clearing the Hall. They all did. By tomorrow afternoon, all the friends Jaenelle had used as buffers would be gone. Her only human companions would be the High Lord, who, Karla was sure, was going to make himself scarce, and Daemon. The Consort would have a clear field in which to woo his Lady.

"May the Darkness help us," Karla muttered as she strode to the door and threw it open. Then she stood in the doorway and stared.

Lucivar, Aaron, Chaosti, Khardeen, and Morton smiled at her.

"Well, well, well," Lucivar crooned. "Look who we found."

Trying to return the smile, Karla said weakly, "Kiss kiss," and sincerely hoped it wouldn't take Jaenelle long to activate the other rings.

Chapter Ten

1 / Kaeleer

After spending two weeks in Ebon Rih, Surreal returned to the Hall, took one look at Daemon, and went hunting for Jaenelle.

She finally tracked Jaenelle down—actually, Graysfang tracked down Ladvarian, who was with Jaenelle—in a part of the Hall so far away from the family's living quarters that it practically guaranteed no one would think to look there.

Jaenelle stepped out of a room and noticed Surreal striding down the corridor. Her face lit up with pleasure. "Surreal! I didn't expect you back so—"

Surreal grabbed Jaenelle's arm and hauled the younger woman back into the room. "This is girl talk," she growled at Graysfang and Ladvarian. "Go water some bushes." Then she slammed the door on two startled, furry faces.

"Surreal," Jaenelle said, shaking free of the hard grip, "did something happen in—"

"What in the name of Hell are you doing?" Surreal shouted.

Jaenelle looked wary and baffled. "I was reading."

"I'm not talking about what you were doing five minutes ago. I'm talking about Daemon. Why are you doing this to him?"

Jaenelle flinched and said defensively, "I'm not doing anything to him."

"That's exactly the point. Damn it, Jaenelle, he's yourConsort. Whyaren't you using him?"

In the flick of a moment, she saw a defensive young woman change into an angry Queen.

"He's been used enough, don't you think?" Jaenelle said quietly in her midnight voice. "And I amnot going to be the next in a long list of women who have forced him into physical intimacy."

"But—" Surreal took a mental step back. She hadn't expected this to be the reason for Jaenelle's resistance— and she was sure Daemon had no idea this was why he was getting locked out of the bedroom.Ah, sugar, she thought sadly.You made all the wrong moves for all the right reasons. "That was different. He was a pleasure slave then, not a Consort."

"Isthere that much difference, Surreal?"

Remember who you're talking to. Remember what she must have seen in Briarwood—and what sort of conclusions a twelve-year-old girl who knew about that side of sex would come to about the time Daemon had spent as a pleasure slave.

"The boyos who are Consorts don't seem to mind performing their duties. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"They've never been pleasure slaves. They've never been forced. All right, yes, sometimes a Consort is asked to give more than he feels like giving at that moment, but when a man accepts the Consort's ring, he goes into that kind of service willingly and by his own choice."

"Daemon made that choice," Surreal pointed out quietly. "Not because he wants the status of being the Consort and is willing to put up with the duties that go along with it, but because he wants to be your lover." She studied Jaenelle. "You do care about him, don't you?"

"I love him."

Surreal heard such a deep river of feelings in those simple words.

"Besides," Jaenelle said, shifting back into a nervous young woman, "I'm not sure he really does want to do...that. He hasn't even tried to kiss me," she added sadly.

Surreal hooked her hair behind her pointed ears. Damn, damn, damn. How had the ground gotten so boggy so fast? "If I understand the rules a Consort is supposed to play by, isn't the Queen supposed to initiate the first kiss so that the Consort knows his attentions will be welcome?"

"Yes," Jaenelle said reluctantly.

"But you haven't kissed him either?"

Jaenelle snarled in frustration and started pacing. "I'm not twelve anymore."

Surreal braced her hands on her hips. "Sugar, from where I'm standing, that's all to the good."

Jaenelle threw up her hands and shouted, "Don't you understand? I don't know how to do any of this!"

Surreal just stared. "You've never been kissed? Family kisses and friendly kisses don't count," she quickly amended.

A disgusted look filled Jaenelle's face. "Teeth, tongues, and drool."

"Wolves and dogs don't count either."

Jaenelle let out a huff of laughter, and said dryly, "I wasn't referring to the kindred."

Shit. "Haven't you received evenone kiss you liked?"

Jaenelle hesitated. "Well, Daemon kissed me once."

"Well, there you—"

"When I was twelve."

Surreal bristled automatically at the thought of a grown man kissing a child, then took a moment to consider the man. There were kisses and there werekisses. And Daemon would know exactly how to kiss a young girl without crossing the line—especially when that girl had been Jaenelle. "He kissed you when you were twelve," she said carefully.

Jaenelle shrugged and looked uncomfortable. "It was at Winsol, just before... everything happened. He had given me a silver bracelet, and I thought a kiss was a more grownup way of saying thank you."

"Okay," Surreal said, nodding. "So you kissed him, and then he kissed you."

"Yes."

"And he didn't drool on you?"

Jaenelle's lips twitched. "No, he didn't drool."

"So why can't you kiss him now?"

"Because I'm not twelve anymore!" Jaenelle shouted.

"What's that got to do with it?" Surreal shouted back.

"I don't want him to laugh at me!"

"I doubt laughing would be his first response. As a matter of fact, I don't think it would even occur to him." Surreal paused.Hell's fire, this is as bad as talking to an adolescent girl.

She let that thought sink in and settle. If she put age aside and only considered experience,wasn't she talking to an adolescent girl? There had to be some key she could turn, some way to make it seem like Daemon desperately needed help. If he needed help, Jaenelle would...