Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, world or concepts used here; all characters, world and concepts belong to Anne Bishop.
Author's Note: Feedback, good and bad, is always appreciated. It's the only way to improve. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it.
Serene Seduction
Chapter 1
Daemon was pacing around the living room in the Consort's suite, a scowl on his face and fists clenched hard to resist the temptation of destroying the furniture, when he heard a shy knock on the door. His lips curled into a silent snarl as he gracefully turned around and stared at the closed door. Who dared to disturb him? He opened his inner barriers slightly. The dark psychic scent he felt made the ground disappear from under his feet. Mother Night!
Taking a deep breath to control his rising temper and discipline his face, Daemon settled into the closest chair and reached for the first book he found on the desk next to him. He wasn't about to admit that he was sneaking out to hide in his suite more and more in the last couple of weeks, fighting his anger and frustration, desperately trying to stay away from the killing edge.
"Come in," he said, trying to sound relaxed.
Jaenelle opened the door halfway and peeked in.
"I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" She seemed to notice the tension in the air and frowned when she looked at Daemon. "Are you ok? You disappeared before breakfast…"
Daemon shrugged, as if it didn't matter.
"I wasn't hungry, so I came upstairs and lost track of time reading." Telling that small lie under her gaze made his cheeks burn. He tried to keep a friendly and slightly curious expression. "Come in."
Jaenelle entered the room, carrying a mug of coffee with a tempting smell that made him salivate. She leaned against the door, looking at him. Her expression was too thoughtful.
"Hmmm… You were reading… and you decided it was more comfortable to stay in a wooden chair behind your desk, instead of sitting on the couch or on the armchair by the window, for instance." She pretended to ponder the issue. "You're right, it wouldn't be so comfortable."
Daemon saw the amusement in her eyes and noticed the sarcasm she made no effort to disguise. He narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together.
"Comfort is a relative concept." At least his voice still sounded relaxed, right?
"Reading must be a relative concept too, then. I'm familiar with a few reading styles, but I never saw a book you had to read upside down." Jaenelle replied, lifting an eyebrow.
Daemon tried to come up with a witty comeback, but that gaze and all that interest focused on him were clouding his mind. Giving up, he let out an exasperated sigh and tossed the book onto the desk, casting an annoyed glare in its direction as the sudden movement scattered a small pile of papers.
Jaenelle's silvery, velvet coated laughter filled the room, but Daemon was too irritated to find the humor in the situation. He used to be very good at concealing his emotions, what the hell was wrong with him?
"Do you want to take a seat, or will you continue to tease me while standing?" He asked dryly, turning his eyes to her again.
Resuming a straight face, Jaenelle walked across the room and settled in the furthest end of the sofa. Wrapping her hands around the mug and holding it on her lap, she looked at him cautiously.
"Are you angry because of that fall in practice today?"
"I'm not angry." Daemon grumbled between his teeth.
Uncomfortable, he stood up and went to the glass door that led to his balcony. He looked at the garden outside, more as a way to avoid her gaze than anything else. He wasn't angry. He was frustrated and, he had to admit it, consumed by jealousy. It was becoming unbearable to see her sharing kisses and caresses with the whole First Circle, and then run away every time he tried to get closer to her.
That morning, when Daemon finished his drill with Lucivar after a somewhat clumsy fall, he spotted Jaenelle alone under a maple tree, looking worried at him. Embarrassed by his fall but equally eager to talk to her, Daemon walked towards her. But when Jaenelle looked around and realized they would be alone, she blushed intensely, grabbed her practice stick and rushed off to the women's arena. Daemon clenched both his teeth and his fists and left the yard, ignoring Lucivar's call, before he ripped someone's arm off.
"In that case, why didn't you join us for breakfast?"
Daemon squirmed a bit, not willing to turn around and face her, nor admit the truth. But she wasn't going to let that go.
"I wasn't hungry and I needed a shower." A cold one, he added silently, still turning away from her, looking outside through the glass door.
Jaenelle didn't answer. As the silence lingered between them, she stood up and approached him hesitantly, stopping behind him. Daemon hung his head, already regretting venting to her.
"Well, anyway, I thought I could bring you a mug of coffee and… and check out how you were. That fall looked pretty painful." She said in a low voice.
Daemon sighed and finally turned his back on the glass door, so he could look at her. So he could find a way to apologize. Looking at her closely, he stood very still. She seemed nervous… Stupid! Jaenelle was in the Consort's suite, with him. They were alone. This was his opportunity.
Taking a deep breath, he relaxed both mind and body, smiling the way that used to stun Terreille's witches to the point they would let him do whatever he pleased. Then, he ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it up a bit, as he slightly released the leash on his sexuality.
"Thank you," he said in his deep, seducing voice.
Jaenelle tried to answer, but the words were lost before they reached her mouth. Daemon felt an intense pleasure when he saw the reaction he was looking for. He drew closer. Jaenelle's eyes wandered from his eyes to his mouth.
"I…" She bit her lower lip and looked away, clearly struggling to focus.
Daemon raised a hand to touch her at the same time she reached out to give him the coffee mug, which caused the coffee to be spilled all over Daemon's shirt. He jumped back, cursing fiercely and trying to push the shirt far from his skin. Jaenelle paled and took a step forward, apologizing frantically. Daemon swallowed the next curse and vanished his shirt.
Jaenelle had called in a towel to help him clean himself. "I'm sorry, Daemon," she repeated anxiously. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"It's nothing, don't worry," Daemon replied, although his breath came in with a hiss when the towel touched his chest. Then, looking at her worried, "Are you hurt?"
Jaenelle glanced down at her own shirt, finding only a few small flecks of stain on her sleeve. She shook her head.
"No, I'm fine." She grimaced and grew slightly paler as she laid her eyes on his chest once more. "Mother Night, I burned you! I'm sorry, Daemon. I had placed a simple warming spell in the mug, but maybe it was too strong…"
Daemon bit his tongue, holding back a moan. Of course, one of Jaenelle's simple spells!
She hesitated for a moment "I have an ointment that will take care of that in no time. If you want to, I can treat that now, before it gets any worse." Suddenly determined and bossy, she added, "Take a seat on that chair, I'll be right back." And with that, she left the room in a hurry.
Daemon watched her as she left. The anxious woman was gone, the bossy Healer would return at any moment. But the worry he saw in her eyes took the pain from his mind for a few moments, making him feel almost childishly happy. Maybe I'm not so well, after all, he thought, with a grin.
Carefully taking a seat, so he wouldn't force the sore shoulder and back muscles, which were even tighter after that sudden jump, Daemon tried not to wince due to the burning sensation on his chest. The morning had just started and it already looked like it couldn't get any worse.
Jaenelle finally returned with more towels, two jars of ointment and a clean shirt. Laying them on the desk next to them, she pulled up another chair and sat in front of him. She looked a little flushed, but had the focused look of a Healer while working.
She called in a small basin with cold water, soaked one of the towels in it and cleaned his chest, slowly, soothing the burning sensation at the same time. Daemon let out a relieved sigh, but winced when her fingers took the place of the fresh towel, touching the irritated skin. Jaenelle gave him a quick apologetic glance before standing up again and focusing on what she was doing. Her soft and knowing hands explored his chest, and also each of his sore muscles.
"It wasn't so bad. Good thing you took your shirt off right away," she said, starting to apply the ointment on his chest.
Daemon felt the warm and dark power of Jaenelle's healing web flowing through him. He finally relaxed, as the ointment soothed and relieved his skin. Then she grabbed the other jar, bigger than the first one, and placed herself behind Daemon, to treat his back and shoulder.
Delighting in the feeling of her touch, firm but delicate, Daemon held back a satisfied smile and stayed very still, apart from a relieved sigh as the muscles eased again. He did nothing to break the silence between them, afraid she would run away again.
Was she making the massage last longer than necessary, or was that simply his wish? As if she read his mind, Jaenelle finished the massage and took her seat in front of him once more, biting her lower lip and looking at everything except him.
"Will I survive?" Daemon asked, lightly.
"Yes, you will," she answered, the tiniest glimpse of a smile flickering on her lips. "I can apply the liniment again after the midday meal, if you're still feeling any pain, but you'll be fine and there won't be any scars either. You should lie down for a while, though, to rest your back."
Of course I'll still be in pain! Daemon thought, hiding a grin. Instead, he nodded in agreement. "Does that mean I can keep my plans for tonight?"
Jaenelle cleared her throat, suddenly embarrassed. "Yes, I don't see any problem…"
Considering they would go to an aristo party – the first time he would escort her officially as her Consort – Daemon didn't want to miss it for anything. That evening, he would have a golden opportunity to be with Jaenelle, maybe his only opportunity. And he had no intention of wasting it, not when all his attempts in the Hall, with so many people around them, were constantly ruined.
The day was turning out to be much better than he had thought after all, which increased his expectations about that night. And that thought lightened his mood more than anything else.
"Well…" Jaenelle hesitated, looked around. "I should go now and let you rest…"
She tried to stand up, but before she could, Daemon reached for her hand. "Wait!"
He didn't want to let her go. Not yet. She settled down again, looking intensely at him. He gently pushed a lock of hair out of her face and let his fingers linger on her skin a little longer. Looked deep in those sapphire eyes that captivated him, losing himself in the confusing swirl of feelings he saw there.
He wanted to kiss her! Mother Night, how he wanted to…
"Thank you," he whispered in a hoarse voice, denying the desire that threatened to suffocate him.
Jaenelle looked baffled. Something flickered in her eyes, but before Daemon could understand what it was, she looked away. With a hesitant smile she nodded slightly and stood up to leave the room. Daemon stood up too and reached for the clean shirt she had gotten him, trying not to think about how much he wanted to punch himself right now. The fear of scaring her away stopped him and now he regretted that decision. Tonight… tonight will be different, he told himself.
Jaenelle stopped as she reached the door, her hand on the door handle. Daemon said nothing. He couldn't trust himself right now. She hesitated, turned her head towards him for a moment.
"See you later…" she said, with a quick glance at him before leaving the room.
Daemon carefully dropped himself on the sofa, in a half sitting, half lying position, his shirt still unbuttoned. A hopeful smile curved his lips. He hadn't imagined the desire in her eyes, under the concern and the nerves. Had he?
He knew women pretty well, but Jaenelle was a hard puzzle to solve. If only he could understand why she was running away from him… if he could get her to feel comfortable with him, he would have a chance.
With any other woman, he knew exactly how to deal with that initial hesitation. But Jaenelle was different. He didn't want to make her feel pressured, much less hurt her. He wanted more, much more than just one night with her.
If you want to bed a woman, do it in the bedroom. If you want to seduce her, do it in the dance. His father's advice, centuries ago. An advice he'd follow tonight.
Tonight, he had the perfect reason to be with her, to court her, to dance with her. To seduce her. And the right to get rid of any male who tries to interfere, he thought satisfied. Tonight, Jaenelle would be his! And he wasn't going to let her slip away, unless she asked him to leave.
He lifted himself to his feet, moaning softly as the back muscles screamed in protest, and went to his bedroom. He stopped in front of his full body mirror, examining his chest. The ointment still covered his skin but the burning sensation was gone. He smiled, relieved to see how quickly it had worked.
His eyes looked over the body reflected in the mirror. He had regained his shape during the years he had lived with Surreal, before coming to Kaeleer, but practicing with Lucivar had much more effective results. His body was once again a perfectly sharpened weapon. Looking up to his face, he gazed into the golden eyes in the mirror. That evening couldn't come soon enough. Holding out his left hand, Daemon examined the Consort's ring on his finger. His smile sharpened as the Sadist started planning his evening with his Lady. He had a little surprise in mind for her.