Jaenelle Quotes

For the first time, they were seeing the dream beneath the flesh.Karla stared at the pointed ears that had come from the Dea al Mon, the hands with sheathed claws that had come from the Tigre, the hooves peeking out from beneath the black gown that could have come from the centaurs or the horses or the unicorns. Most of all, she stared at the tiny spiral horn.The living myth. Dreams made flesh. But, oh, had any of them really thought about who the dreamers had

You're not going to answer, are you?" Jaenelle asked after a minute of teeth-grinding silence."No.""Don't you know the answer?""Whether I know the answer or not is beside the point. It's not something a man discusses with a young girl.""But you know the answer."Daemon growled.

Have you taught her to kill, Priest? Can you teach her such a thing? She's so wise in her innocence, so innocent in her wisdom.

Carefully bracing himself so that he wouldn't hurt her, he leaned over and brushed his lips against hers.He raised his head. Her haunted sapphire eyes stared at him."Daemon?" There was so much uncertainty in her voice."Hello, sweetheart," he said, his voice husky with the effort not to cry. "I've missed you."Her hand moved slowly, with effort, until it rested against his face. Her lips curved into a smile. "Daemon."This time, when she said his name, it sounded like a promise, like a lovely caress.

It was Jaenelle's voice, but...She was medium height, slender, and fair-skinned. Her gold mane--not quite hair and not quite fur--was brushed up and back from her exotic face and didn't hide the delicately pointed ears. In the center of her forehead was a tiny, spiral horn. A narrow strip of gold fur traced her spine, ending in a small gold and white fawn tail that flicked over her bare buttocks. The legs were human and shapely, but changed below the calf. Instead of feet, she had dainty horse's hooves. Her human hands had sheathed claws like a cat's. As she shifted position to slip another shard into place, he saw the small, round breasts, the feminine curve of waist and hips, the dark-gold triangle of hair between her legs.Who...?But he knew. Even before she walked over and looked at him, even before he saw the feral intelligence in those ancient, haunted sapphire eyes, he knew. Terrifying and beautiful. Human and Other. Gentle and violent. Innocent and wise.*I am Witch,* she said, a small, defiant quiver in her voice.*I know.* His voice had a seductive throb in it, a hunger he couldn't control or mask.

*I don't want the body,* she whimpered. *It hurts.**Not always, sweetheart. Not always. Without the body, how will you hear a bird's song? How will you feel a warm summer rain on your skin? How will you taste nutcakes? How will you walk on a beach at sunset and feel the sand and surf under your... hooves?*

Daemon clung to Surreal as she flew along the Winds, too weak to argue, too spent to care. His heart, however... His heart held on fiercely to Jaenelle's soft, sighing caress of his name.Everything has a price.

She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.