All for a Rose by Jennifer Blackstream Page A

Unless…
    Daman coiled his lower body tighter, bringing his chest closer to the ground so he didn’t tower quite so high about the terrified man.  “You tried to steal something very valuable from me after I was kind enough to offer you hospitality. I would be within my rights to keep you here as my prisoner to punish you for your crime.” He took a deep breath, holding on to his temper as best he could. “But I am willing to make you a deal.”
    “A d-deal?” the terrified man stammered.
    “Yes. A deal.” Daman gripped the stones beneath him, trying to keep his voice calm. “Go home. Tell your daughter what has transpired. If she will agree to return here with you—and stay here for as long as I so desire—I will reward you with riches and allow you to go home and begin rebuilding all that you lost.”
    Daman remembered the witch, remembered how badly she’d wanted money, wanted the life she’d lost after her father’s money had been taken. “Understand me, I will make you a rich man. Rich enough to climb even higher in society than you were. Tell your daughter that and tell her that her time here will not be forever and no harm will come to her.”
    Those last words tasted foul on his tongue, but he forced them out. More than the witch’s death, he wanted her to lift the curse. If she would agree to do so, he would spare her life. “Make it clear to her that if she refuses my offer, then you must come back here alone and remain here as my prisoner.”
    The trembling of the old man’s body grew worse, until it was a wonder the flesh didn’t fly from his very bones. “What do you want with my daughter?”
    She doesn’t deserve your protection. Daman tried to keep his voice level. “That is my concern.”
    “I… I understand.” The old man half-collapsed on the ground, his head apparently having grown too heavy to hold up anymore.
    “Good.”
    Excitement swirled in Daman’s veins, anticipation of finally having the leverage to force the witch to break her curse filling him with hope. A deep satisfaction curled inside of him. She’d once begged to stay here, claimed she wanted to be with him more than anything. Well, she would get her wish.
    She would stay here all right—but it would not be in the lap of luxury that she’d wanted so badly. She would lift her curse on him or he would make her suffer. There were things far worse than death—especially for witches who pined for the finer things in life. “Go to the front of the house and wait there. I’ll send a horse and carriage to take you home.”
    Without waiting for a response, Daman shot down the path through the garden, riding a wave of adrenaline, feeling light enough to fly. Birds flew screaming into the air, and dirt scattered in all directions from the savage thrusting of his tail as he hurtled over the field in the direction of the stable.
    He’d had no need for horses in some time, but he’d never been able to part with the last one. The ebony stallion had been the jewel of his stable, completely fearless—an attribute that had never been more clear than when it had been the only animal in his stable not to shriek in terror the day Daman had come to release them after the curse had taken his legs. Even now, with his heart pounding and what he knew must be a wild light in his eyes, the beast blinked at him, not bothering to stop chewing its hay as Daman entered its stall. Its velvety nose quivered as it snorted at Daman—unimpressed.
    The equine was reluctant to leave his lunch, but he amiably allowed Daman to lead it out of the stall and over to a carriage covered in a year’s worth of dust. An undeniable feeling of indignation radiated from the beast as Daman hitched it to the carriage without cleaning it off first, but after a few tosses of its head, it snorted in resignation.
    It took mere minutes for Daman to drag the heavy carriage from the confines of its dusty shelter and get the straps fastened snugly around the