The Shadows of Night Read Online Free Page B

to fulfill your barbaric taste for blood.”
    She made a low growling sound, then picked up her spoon and began to eat, with a look of disgust on her face.   Hart went back to eating his own food, wondering precisely how he would react if he found himself at a Claw table and offered nothing but meat.   The thought made his stomach clench, and he wondered if she felt that same visceral revulsion.
    “It isn’t so bad, is it?” he asked, a little more sympathetically.
    “It is tasteless, bland and disgusting.   I suppose it will keep me alive, but there is little more to recommend it.”
    She was impossible.   His brother and father were right—she was a barbarian.   And a rude one, at that.   “Tell me something,” Hart said.   “I must confess to a certain curiosity.   How do the men of your Kindred manage to avoid killing their women?”
    “Tact is not a necessary virtue,” his brother’s voice said, “among a people whose women are so very lovely.”
    Hart looked up, seeing Prong clad in his finest raiment.   Ordinarily he wore the same casual tunic and breeches that Hart wore.   But this morning he wore robes, heavily studded with jewels.   A court outfit, totally inappropriate for breaking his fast, and obviously intended to impress the Claw.  
    Which was strange, given that Prong loathed the felines as much as he did.   Obviously he’d been blinded by the woman’s beauty.   Well, Prong was always a fool when it came to women.   And women were always fools when it came to Prong.
    Hart stole a glance in the Claw’s direction and noticed from the slack surprise on her face that she was in fact impressed.   No real surprise there.   Even when he wasn’t clad in sparkling jewels and shimmering satin, his brother’s face was enough to seduce any woman.   In fact, the women of the court often compared him to an angel.
    Which, Hart thought wryly, his little brother might resemble on the outside… but certainly not on the inside.
    Prong took Katara’s hand in his and bowed over it.   “It is a true pleasure to meet so lovely a woman, my lady.”
    Hart felt a brief spurt of something very like jealousy, which turned to pleased amusement when she yanked her hand from Prong’s grasp and speared him with a sharp glance of those green-gold eyes.   “Touch me again,” she snarled, “and I’ll bite off your hand.”
    Surprise flickered in Prong’s eyes, followed very quickly by a hot flash of anger.   His younger brother had ever possessed a fiery temper, which occasionally caused trouble among the Antler Kindred.   He was not diplomatic by nature.   “How dare you speak thus to a lord of the Antler?”
    “She speaks that way to everyone,” Hart volunteered helpfully.   Amused by his brother’s fury, he leaned back in his chair and observed the two of them with interest.   “I don’t believe our rank impresses her greatly.”
    Prong’s face was still red with anger, clashing unpleasantly with his coppery hair.   “You will need to teach her her place.”
    “I am her keeper,” Hart answered, “not her tutor.   I doubt very much she would thank me for endeavoring to teach her anything.”
    “There is nothing you are qualified to teach me.”
    “Except the rules of polite society,” Prong snapped.
    “In my society, men do not touch women without their consent.”
    “Your society is comprised of barbarians.”
    Katara leaped to her feet, rage flashing in her eyes, her hands outstretched.   Hart had the distinct impression she’d momentarily forgotten the collar and had intended to shift in midair, her sharp claws extended toward Prong’s throat.   For his part, Prong looked as if he might shift at any moment and impale her on his antlers.   Amusing though the byplay had been up till now, Hart decided he must intervene.
    “Prong,” he said.   “Recall your manners and stop insulting the lady.”
    Prong made a show of looking around the dining chamber.   “I see no