Deciding to leave her hair down in the interest of speed, Jasmine brushed it quickly and stashed the brush back in the armoire.

Keilor stepped behind her as she closed the mirrored doors. He placed a diadem of linked prismatic silver dragonflies and blue topaz, amethyst and sea colored gems on her brow. Her eyes widened in alarm. It was by far the most beautiful, extravagant gift anyone had ever given her. "Keilor, no! I-"

He placed one finger on her lips and admonished, "I am your husband. I can well afford to lavish gifts on my beloved wife. Would you deny me this pleasure?"

Tears pricked her eyes. "But-"

He flashed her a wicked smile and pulled her against him. "Of course, I had to sell my favorite stag and indenture myself to the jeweler to afford these lovely gems, but-"

She poked him in the ribs, trying to hide her smile under a pout. "It was very sweet. Please don't do it again."

He took her hand in his, and she felt something slide onto her left hand, over her ring finger. "As you wish," he agreed, and then took her hand before she could look and dragged her out the door.

"Keilor!"

The ceremony was blessed by a stocky priest in shiny brown robes. Performed outdoors on a raised marble dais shaded by a tile roof, it was attended by a crowd of hundreds.

Somehow she survived standing in front of a crowd of strangers to exchange vows with Keilor. By the time they were done with the simple ceremony she was glad to leave the dais and descend to the lawn to mingle with the guests.

It was the first time she'd been exposed to a large gathering since her arrival in the Dark Lands, and it was a bit dizzying. Brightly dressed women and black clad men she didn't know wished Keilor well and looked her over with curiosity. Some of the women were overly friendly in a manner that smacked of social climbing, and Jasmine instinctively retreated behind polite reserve with them. Others looked on her coldly, though none seemed to have the gall to cut her with Keilor at her side, and he never left her, not for a moment. Everything went fine.

Until Yesande.

They stood behind an enormous ice sculpture of a battling stag and a volti, enjoying a lull in between well-wishers. Most of the guests had gathered around the heavily laden buffet tables.

"This must have been Jayems' idea. I know Rihlia didn't pick it out," Jasmine said, stroking the stag's icy flank and admiring the frozen flow of muscle. Somebody had talent.

"Actually, it was a contribution from my clan for the wedding," a woman's voice said. A tall blond with eyes of nearly white blue stepped behind the sculpture. "I created it."

An oath sounded to Jasmine's left and she turned to see Keilor bare his teeth in a snarl.

The woman smiled with amusement. "Hello, Keilor. I almost didn't recognize you with your clothes on."

Gold fire leapt into his eyes and for a moment Jasmine feared that her new husband was going to kill the woman on the spot.

The stranger had no such fears. "Lady Yesande," she introduced herself, inclining her head. Soulless eyes perused Jasmine from head to foot. "You need no introduction, Lady Jasmine...and Keilor and I are already well acquainted."

"Past tense," Keilor said in a voice that could have crushed rocks.

Yesande smiled, or her lips did. "And now you are mated to a charmer. Interesting choice. I wonder how you dare it." She glanced at the crowd they were drawing and said with lazy nonchalance, "Given that her mother was a prostitute."

Keilor took a step toward her, but Jasmine grabbed his arm. Deep currents were flowing here, and she sensed Yesande would relish an attack. Something was wrong besides the obvious, and she was afraid Keilor might be too enraged to see it.

Yesande glanced at Jasmine's hand and asked, "Do you have any idea just how much the Haunt despise whores, Lady Jasmine? Almost as much as we used to hate charmers."

The crowd stirred, and Jasmine took a deep breath. "They're not exactly favored by your average human, either, myself included." With her peripheral vision she saw Raziel and Isfael casually position themselves near enough to be helpful in a hurry if need be. Mathin caught her eye from the crowd and held it, a silent warning in his eyes. Tread with caution.

Faking a calm she didn't feel, Jasmine looped her arm around Keilor's waist and said, "Keilor isn't worried about that, though. He told me last night he'd kill me if he ever caught me with someone else, and I believe him."

Keilor looked at her in shock as the crowd murmured. The very idea of a man killing his mate...

Feeling reckless, Jasmine added smugly, "Besides, once you've had the best, why bother with the rest? I'm holding on to this wildcat. And speaking of which..." She sent her scandalized husband a provocative look, "...don't we have a wedding night to celebrate?"

"I'm holding on to this wildcat?" Keilor asked incredulously once they reached her room.

"It worked," she said tartly. She was still miffed at the whole scene with his old girlfriend, and she was more than happy to take it out on him. "What I want to know is how she found out about my mother." She took off the diadem and set it on an end table. "It's not exactly common knowledge here."

"I didn't tell her, if that's what you're thinking." Keilor took off his robe and tossed the expensive garment over a chair. His new wife gave him a dirty look and took it to the closet. When she emerged she was wearing a robe with a glimpse of silver showing at the bottom of the vee. Several pieces of black armor littered the couch.

Jasmine put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Unless you're itching for a fight, buddy, I suggest you take that junk and put it in the closet. You're not turning my room into a pig pen."

He wasn't thrilled with her bossiness, but he did collect his gear and stash it in the closet. He came out wearing loose white trousers that tied at the top and nothing else. It was a terribly distracting tactic to use when she was trying to fight with him.

Striving to remember she was still annoyed, she crossed her arms and sat down on the couch, leaving him plenty of room at the other end.

Keilor took in her mulishness and knew it for what it was. He chose to attack her jealousy with direct action. Ignoring her mood, he stretched out on the couch and placed his head in her lap. "I don't dwell on the men you knew before me, love," he told her gravely. "I expect the same courtesy from you,"

"None of them are likely to rake you over the coals in public." Her eyes narrowed. "Or mention how I looked without my clothes."

Several heartbeats passed in silence. "I did not go to her willingly, Jasmine." His voice roughened as he sat up. "She drugged me." Seeing her horror, he explained, "Libran. Sweet Surrender." A muscle twitched in his jaw. "I believe you've heard of it."

Someone had given him the aphrodisiac that had almost killed her? She placed one hand on his thigh and watched him soberly.

"She took an interest in me when I was still young, but I despised her." His nose wrinkled in remembered distaste. "Besides being unattractive, she had...has, twisted tastes."

Self-disgust hardened his voice. "I was young and inexperienced at the time, and her clan caught me by surprise. When I woke up, I was chained and already drugged. Easy prey."

Jasmine laid her head against his shoulder. When he hurt, she hurt.

He wrapped his arm around her. "I'd likely still be there if Mathin hadn't poured an antidote down my throat and given me a blade."

She rubbed her head against him, her breathing harsh. "Love..." He felt her swallow. "When was this?"

"Thirty years ago," he answered without thinking.

She sat up, startled. "Thirty-how old are you?"

Instead of answering, he kissed her. When she was properly befuddled, he told her, "So now you know you have no reason to be jealous."

"No," she agreed, breathless, but still angry with Yesande. "But the next time I see her, I hope I have a gun in my hand."

He kissed her, and a little of the chill left. "You would fight on my behalf?"

"Well..." She forgot whatever it was she'd meant to say as he eased her back to the couch, a hot promise in his eyes. "Wait!" she protested, and placed a hand on his chest. "I almost forgot-" His lips touched hers, and for a breathless moment she nearly forgot what was so urgent. Before he could completely blank her mind, she forced him to let her up.

His expression stated her reprieve was temporary.

She fumbled with the black cord that held her dragonfly pendant and finally got the knot loose. Straddling his lap, she placed it around his neck like a choker, knotting the cord just below the bead that prevented it from slipping off. The black beaded tail trailed down his spine. She smiled, pleased. "Now we've both given each other something unique of our own."

He fingered the pendant. "What did I give you?" he asked, thinking she would speak of the jewelry or clothes, and feeling rather self-conscious and silly with a symbol he was used to associating with her femininity on his neck.

With a shy but satisfied smile, she answered, "Well, you were a virgin the first time we-"

He sat up so fast he nearly dumped her from his lap. "A virgin!" Highly insulted, he asked incredulously, "How in the name of all that's holy did you come to that conclusion?"

She squirmed. "Well, Rihlia-" she stopped, confused. "You said yourself you'd never done it."

"I'd never mated," he said firmly. "But I can assure you I've had more than my share of lovers. I am definitely not a virgin."

"But-" Before she could say anything else to further insult him, he kissed her, stole her words and her silly thoughts. If anyone had been close to a virgin last night, it had been her, and he was more than willing to demonstrate the gaps in their knowledge.

He broke their kiss just long enough to promise with a wicked smile, "When tonight is over, you'll never have cause to question my experience again, wife." Then he settled more comfortably between her thighs and proceeded to blow her mind.

It was several seconds before the pounding at the door registered.

Keilor sat up, cursing the fact that he'd told Isfael and Raziel to take the night off and enjoy the feast. Both Haunt were likely curled up with a woman by now, and he hadn't bothered posting any other guards. After all, Jasmine had him now.

"It had better be a fire or a flood!" he snarled. "Who comes?"

"Knightin," came the instant reply.

Keilor got up and headed for the door. Knightin would not bother him now unless the matter was urgent. He flung the door wide. "What is-"

The Haunt at the door gutted him.

CHAPTER 22.

She was so cold.

Jasmine opened her eyes as dawn broke over the mountain camp. She started to shake. She remembered everything. Curled up in her bedroll, she endured the burning tears and grief as she mourned for her love.

Rocks crunched by her head and cloth rustled as someone knelt before her. Yesande stared at her dispassionately. "You'll get over it," she said. "Where we're going, I can supply you with many men to please you. You need never settle for one again."

Jasmine snarled at her, and she smiled. "Such a brave little charmer. No wonder Keilor found you amusing. Don't worry, pet." She traced the curve of Jasmine's ear and Jasmine recoiled. "No one is going to harm you. You're far too valuable." She stood up and called to the Haunt with them, "Break camp. We need to be out of here before Jayems' trackers find us."

Jasmine scrambled up and tried not to think about who had dressed her. At least they'd chosen pants and a tunic.

She'd been drugged, and much of last night was a blur. She pulled on her boots, which were close at hand. She wouldn't find a way to escape lying on her back, and danged if she wanted to give the creepy Yesande or anyone else, ideas. After all, what other use could they have for a charmer?

No one touched her, though, during the seventeen hellish days it took to reach Yesande's citadel.

Stags had never been Jasmine's favorite animals, and she liked them even less after riding double all day, every day, with Yesande for over two weeks. The hide wore off the inside of her thighs and her backside, and she could hardly walk for the first three days. After a week she started to saunter like John Wayne, and she was certain she'd never be able to stroll with her legs together again.

She only had one question for Yesande in the entire time. "How old are you?" she'd asked as they rode along a ridge on the third day.

Yesande had looked at her over her shoulder in inquiry. "Sixty-seven."

Jasmine had said nothing else.

"We'll find her," Mathin promised Keilor.

Keilor closed his eyes and fought against the drugs. "If Yesande has hurt her...." he said, his voice dark with fury and pain. He should be the one going. Instead he was taking up space in a hospital bed while his enemies ran off with his wife.

"Don't worry, we'll bag her and Knightin, too," Raziel promised him. "He made a grave mistake when he splattered your guts all over the floor and neglected to take your head. You'll be on your feet and ready to rip his heart out by the time we get back."

"Jasmine, it's Mathin."

Her eyes moved under her half-shut lids, but she didn't move.

It had taken weeks to track Yesande to this remote citadel, and nearly a day to convince his sister to let him have a go at the charmer. Yesande's medics had yet to isolate the pheromone responsible for her charmer abilities, and they'd begun feeding her drugs to increase her libido in the hopes of increasing production.

Unfortunately, the side affects were hostility and aggression, fed by her refusal to have anything to do with the men Yesande sent her to slake her thirst. Since the men were all unmated, none of them could force the issue, either. All Jasmine had to do was to tell them not to touch her, or to go away, and they went.

Yesande was encouraged by that, since she liked to watch the encounters, and enjoyed seeing the power she planned to make her own.

Still, the charmer's stubbornness annoyed her, and she'd finally agreed to let Mathin try his luck.

Blessing the fact that he was Yesande's brother for the first time in his life, since it allowed him to proceed without an audience, he lifted the charmer's eyelid and peered into one dilated pupil. "Jasmine!"

With a snarl Jasmine clawed at his face. Just as fast, she retreated to huddle in the corner of her cot. He clamped a hand over her mouth before she could order him away. Knowing Yesande was probably monitoring their conversation, he put his lips to her ear.

"Wouldn't you like to leave this padded cell and go with me, Dragonfly?" She froze, and he lowered his hand.

Wary eyes watched him through sweat dampened bangs. "Keilor calls me that."

"Yes." He held her gaze. "He calls you that." He hoped her drugged mind would comprehend what he said.

It didn't.

When he rose to his knees on the bed to block what he was doing from possible watching eyes, she shoved at him, her eyes rolling. "No! I want Keilor, only Keilor!"

There was no point trying to reason with her. She was too drugged to understand.

Mentally swearing a filthy oath, he clamped his hand on her jaw and forced her mouth open. He squirted in one of the antidotes the medics had sent with him, just in case. To hide her sputtering and to prevent her from spitting it out, he kissed her ruthlessly, clashing their teeth and bruising both their mouths.

The kiss revolted him, not because he didn't find the woman attractive but because he'd never forced his attentions on anyone. He didn't relish starting with the wife of a friend, even if it was the only way he could think to hide his actions and force her to swallow.

When he was certain enough medicine had gotten down to clear her brain, he let her go. She shrank away with a cry and hid her face in the corner, sobbing.

Pretending to reconsider his strategy, he used his thumb to wiped the blood from his lip were she'd bitten him. He waited for her mind to clear and his body to stop shaking with rebellion.

Her mind cleared first.