J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 5-8 - J. R. Ward [673]
He was suspended in the midst of the cave, his naked body hovering above and below the shimmering, pulsating confines of rock.
Spiders. Scorpions. His prison was teeming with venomous guards.
Closing his eyes, he reached out with his symphath side, trying to find others of his kind, determined to get through the place where he was, to minds and emotions he could manipulate to get himself free: He might be in the colony to stay, but that didn’t mean he had to keep hanging around like a chandelier.
Except all he could sense was a web of static.
The cast of hundreds of thousands that surrounded him formed an impenetrable psychic blanket, castrating his symphath side, allowing nothing into or out of the cave.
Anger rather than fear fisted in his chest, and he reached over to one of the chains and pulled on it using his massive pectoral muscles. Pain made him tremble head to foot as his body shifted in midair, but there was no budging his tether or dislodging the bolting mechanism that went through his flesh.
As he swung back to straight vertical, he heard a shifting sound, as if a door had opened behind him.
Someone came in, and he knew who, given how strong the psychic block they were putting up was.
“Uncle,” he said.
“Indeed.”
The king of the symphaths came shuffling around with his cane, the spiders on the floor breaking their quilt of bodies briefly to make way for him before swallowing up his path. Beneath those blood-colored imperial robes his uncle’s body was weak, but the brain on top of that curved spine was incredibly strong.
Proof positive that physical strength wasn’t a symphath’s best weapon.
“How fare thee in thy floating repose?” the king asked, his royal headdress of rubies catching the candlelight.
“Complimented.”
The king’s brows lifted above his glowing red eyes. “How so?”
Rehv glanced around. “Hell of a lock and key you’ve got me under. Which means I’m more powerful than you’re comfortable with or you’re weaker than you wish you were.”
The king smiled with the serenity of someone utterly unthreatened. “Do you know that your sister wished to be king?”
“Half sister. And it doesn’t surprise me.”
“For a time, I gave her what she wanted in my will, but I realized that I was inappropriately swayed and I changed everything. That was what your tithes were for. She was using them to transact business with humans, of all things.” The king’s expression suggested this was akin to inviting rats into one’s kitchen. “That alone indicates she is utterly unworthy to rule. Fear is far more useful to motivate subjects—money being comparatively irrelevant if one is looking to gain power. And killing me? She presumed she could best my succession plan that way, which vastly overestimates her capabilities.”
“What did you do with her?”
More of that serene smile. “What was fitting.”
“How long are you going to keep me here like this?”
“Until she is dead. Her knowledge that I have you and that you are alive is part of her punishment.” The king looked around at the spiders, something close to true affection flaring in his white Kabuki face. “My friends will guard you well, worry not.”
“I’m not.”
“You will be. I promise you.” The king’s eyes returned to Rehv’s, his androgynous features shifting into something demonic. “I didn’t like your father and was quite pleased that you killed him. That being said, you are not getting that chance with me. You live solely as long as your sister does, and then I shall follow your fine example and reduce the number of my kin.”
“Half. Sister.”
“So intent you are on distancing the ties between yourself and the princess. No wonder she adores you as much as she does. For her, that which is unattainable will always hold the most fascination. Which, again, is the only reason you live.”
The king leaned on his cane and began to slowly creep back the way he had come. Just before he got out of Rehv’s sight, he paused. “Have you ever been to your father’s grave?”
“No.”
“It is my favorite place