Read Online Witch & Curse by Nancy Holder, Debbie Viguié - Free Book Online Page A

fiercely.
How dare she? Before this night is over, I will strangle her in her bed
. Then a strange, new emotion washed over him.
That wouldcause Isabeau great grief. I cannot harm her lady mother . . .
    He took a step backward.
I have been poisoned. I am being manipulated
.
    He said aloud, “This marriage—”
    His father stopped chanting and stared at him. A hush descended over the assemblage.
    He read in his father’s eyes a warning:
I have toiled for years to achieve this match. Do not thwart me, lad. Don’t forget, you have a younger brother. Should you prove to be a disappointment, he can easily take your place
.
    Jean took a breath, and then he barely nodded, to show his father that he understood, and said, “This marriage joins two great houses. I am overcome with joy that my bride and I stand here tonight.”
    A cheer rose up—perhaps not a very enthusiastic one, for the Cahors were anxious about being surrounded by Deveraux, and many of the Deveraux opposed the match.
    Isabeau said nothing, but her expression softened. A tear welled in her eye and ran down her cheek. Jean reached beneath her veil and caught the tear with his forefinger, then raised it to his mouth and slipped his fingertip between his lips. It was an intimate, loving gesture that was not lost on the onlookers, who murmured with approval and surprise. Jean was not known for his tenderness in matters relating to women.
    The ceremony ended at last, and with trumpets and torches Jean led his bride into the great hall of Castle Deveraux for the bridal feast.
    Echoing through the rooms of stone, a faint cry of agony caught Isabeau’s attention. She looked up at her groom.
    â€œSacrifices,” Jean told her. “We’ll go a little later, to preside over the last few.”
    She dipped her head in assent. She still had not spoken, he noticed.
    â€œDid they take your voice, so that you could not refuse this match?” he asked her, an edge in his tone.
    The look she flashed at him was one of pure lust and adoration. “There is nothing I will refuse you, Jean de Deveraux.”
    His loins filled with fire and he smiled at her. She smiled back, and they led the way to the tables.
    And they went to the dungeons later, and what he made her see, what they did together to living, breathing human beings . . . to sacrifices for the sake of their marriage, and their legacy . . .
    Jer’s eyes snapped open. His chest was heaving and he heard his own voice muttering, “No, no, no, no.”
    Eddie and Kialish were both crouched beside him,Eddie with his hand on Jer’s shoulder. He had been shaking him hard.
    Jer was going to be sick. The atrocities he’d witnessed in his vision, the tortures . . . he was revolted. He shoved Eddie aside and ducked out of the lodge as fast as he could, staggered a few feet, and fell to his hands and knees. Bile churned in his stomach and he coughed it up, tears welling in his eyes as the acid seared his throat.
    Then emptied physically but still not emotionally, he rose to his feet and lurched toward his car.
    Eddie and Kialish caught up and walked abreast of him. Eddie said, “What’s up, Jer?”
    â€œI’m going home.”
    â€œWhat did you see?” Kialish wanted to know. “What happened, man?”
    Jer shook his head. “Nothing I want to talk about.”
    His friends traded glances. “We can go to my dad,” Kialish suggested. His father was a shaman. “I think you need him.”
    â€œThanks.” Jer didn’t break his stride, but he flashed Kialish a grim smile of appreciation. “What I need is a new family.”
    He had told Eddie and Kialish a few things about his father and his brother, and over the months he figured they must have connected a few of the dots he’d left out.Not all of them, but enough to at least be sympathetic. Kari knew less about his background, because he didn’t trust her as much.