Still Not Dead Enough , Book 2 of The Dead Among Us by J. L. Doty Page B

room full of Unseelie courtiers twittered at Ag’s humor.
    Anogh nodded his head respectfully. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”
    Ag had that look of cruel anticipation that always precluded unpleasantness. “She was a lovely creature. I should have bedded her myself a few times.” A father, speaking so casually of bedding his own daughter, did not raise eyebrows here as it would in the Seelie Court.
    Anogh knew he was a fool to succumb to temptation as he said, “Certainly you would have enjoyed it far more than she.”
    The beating that ensued was vicious, cruel and brutal.
    ~~~
    Standing at the right hand of Ag’s throne, Simuth watched Sabreatha stride across the floor of Ag’s formal audience chamber. She was a fearful sight, a tall specter of untamed shadows and wild magic with a broadsword strapped to her back and an unstrung long-bow in her left hand. She stopped at the base of the steps beneath the throne, stood straight and tall with her shadowed head canted at a slight angle, as if regarding Ag with disdain, a clearly intentional violation of protocol.
    Simuth bent close to Ag’s ear and whispered, “We don’t need this black fey . Let me kill him myself. I’ll—”
    Ag raised his right hand, silencing Simuth, though his gaze remained on Sabreatha. He and she stared at each other for several seconds, then Ag finally broke the silence. “Thank you for coming, child of dark magics.”
    Sabreatha’s head merely nodded once. When she spoke her voice crawled through Simuth’s heart like the hiss of water spattering on a hot brand. “You summoned, I came. State your business.”
    Ag shrugged, tried to be nonchalant as he said, “The Unseelie Court may have common cause with the black fey .”
    “I doubt it,” Sabreatha hissed. “State your business.”
    “There is the matter of this necromancer—”
    “State your business.”
    “He is a danger to us all, and something must be done about him—”
    “State your business.”
    Ag flinched, agitated that she showed so little deference. “This necromancer is . . . how shall I say—”
    “State your business.”
    Ag snarled, “I’m trying to, but you—”
    “State your business.”
    Ag stood and screamed, “I want him dead. I don’t care how it’s done. I want him dead.”
    The ever-changing shadows dancing about Sabreatha’s face slowly dissipated, and she looked upon the king with her multi-colored eyes. She turned her gaze upon Simuth, and he realized she really didn’t look upon him, but rather through him, an unnerving glance filled with contempt. He shuddered, and was relieved when she looked back at Ag and said, “Perhaps les flèche du coeur .”
    “Yes,” Ag said, stepping forward to the edge of the dais greedily. “Yes, deliver the arrow of the heart and I’ll grant you anything.” He hesitated, thought better of such a bargain. “Well, almost anything. What would you have?”
    The shadows returned to obscure her face and eyes. “Free access to the domains of the Unseelie Court.”
    “Yes,” Ag agreed. “We have a bargain.”
    Sabreatha reached above her head, gripped the hilt of the broadsword protruding there and drew the blade. A steel blade, it reminded him that Sabreatha could touch cold iron, the only fey that could do so.
    She swung the blade down, and it rang out as it tore a chip of stone from the first step of the dais in a shower of sparks. “My signature,” she said, “for a bargain signed and sealed.”
    She sheathed the sword and, without waiting for leave, turned and strode from the hall.
    When Ag and Simuth were once again alone, the king sat down and breathed a long sigh of relief. Simuth couldn’t take his eyes from the chipped first step of the dais, Sabreatha’s signature . He said, “Anogh will be furious when he hears of this.”
    Ag growled, “Don’t be a fool. The Summer Knight must not know of this.”
    ~~~
    As Paul stepped onto the street outside of Katherine’s office, a strange