He poked her. "Stop slouching and straighten your back. The stag won't respect a spineless rider." She obeyed him, but persisted in leaning forward to avoid body contact. He sighed in frustration and pulled her back flush to his chest with a small jerk, holding her shoulders to keep her there. "Unless you're racing, you must sit straight in the saddle. You'll never have a proper seat otherwise, and the ride will be uncomfortable."
He released her, and she silently did as he instructed. If her muscles got any stiffer, though, he'd be able to take her off the stag and use her for a poker. With that in mind, he began to massage her shoulders.
She hunched them, trying to discourage him, but he persisted, and slowly she relaxed. "Better," he told her. "A relaxed body will obey you better and help to keep your mount calm."
As they continued down the deserted sunny road in the opposite direction from the gate site, her continued silence began to annoy him. "Are you sulking because we're nowhere near the gate or because you can't shove me off this stag and trample me?"
Her answer, when it came, was not what he'd been expecting.
Jasmine turned her head to look at him. "Why do you make her stay here?" she asked quietly. "I don't understand." They both looked to where Jayems and Rihlia rode, several lengths ahead.
Keilor had seen Jasmine display many emotions, but this aching quiet stirred an answering sympathy in him. He felt the need to comfort, and he hadn't felt such tender emotion in a long time. "Do you know anything of your family?" he asked gently, aware that the subject was likely painful for her.
She shrugged, but her voice was harsh. "Sure. My mother was an exotic dancer and my father was some guy she'd met at a party. She found out later he had a wife and three kids. He owned a used car dealership. What about it?"
He paused, taken aback by her revelation. "You met them?" he asked tentatively, almost dreading her answer.
"My mother," she paused and then admitted with great reluctance, "When she was drunk, before she died, she used to rant on about how I'd ruined her life." She was silent a moment. "It was a lot more pleasant when she was stoned. Then she just ignored me." What could he say to such a revelation? Would she even accept comfort from him? He cleared his throat. "It wasn't like that for Rihlia. She was the baby of the family, and very spoiled. Jayems and I adored her from the moment we saw her. She was terribly charming, and very bossy."
Jasmine shook her head and said in faint amusement, "I'm sure."
"The day she disappeared, we were all frantic. Jayems would not sleep for two days. In spite of the best efforts of the Haunt elite, we could find no trace of her. I didn't see a smile cross Jayems' face for months afterward."
Jasmine's voice was heavy. "That little girl grew up, Keilor. She's not the same person."
He stopped the stag. Splaying his fingers against her jaw, he gently turned her head to look up at him, leaning to the side so she could see him clearly. He held her gaze, letting her see how he felt. "She deserves the chance to find out for herself exactly what she is, don't you think?" He could sense her weakening, so he pushed harder. "Her family loves her and wants her, Jasmine. Give her the opportunity to learn that. Jayems will never let her go while she still thinks we threw her away." He released her and set the stag in motion, giving her a chance to think; glad he'd been able to explain to her how they felt.
He'd deliberately misled her; Jayems would never let Rihlia go, regardless, but he knew if he said as much he might have closed her mind to everything he'd told her. At least this way they had the chance of winning her as a powerful ally in the battle for Rihlia's heart. If she chose, Jasmine could single-handedly win half the war, and he wasn't going to be squeamish about using her to do so.
He looked again at Jayems and Rihlia. More than one heart hung in the balance.
***
Jasmine couldn't sleep for a long time that night. She kept analyzing every nuance of her conversation with Keilor that afternoon. Everything kept coming back to his eyes, and the way he'd looked when he'd said that Wiley's family wanted her. Earnest. Sincere. But what was best for Wiley? Was she running away because she thought they'd abandoned her?
With an annoyed grunt, she tossed off the covers and got dressed. She really shouldn't have taken that nap earlier in the afternoon, but there was no help for it now.
She opened her door and immediately the two Haunt turned to look at her. She gave them both a rather sick smile. She still wasn't used to having werewolves guarding her door. "Can't sleep," she explained apologetically. She must be crazy to want to wander around in the dark with these two. "Um, is there any reason I can't take a walk out here?" When they glanced at each other but made no move to stop her, she eased out of her room and shut the door.
To the left were Wiley and Jayems' rooms. To the right, the great unknown. She chose the right. In no particular hurry, she meandered at a thoughtful pace down the well-lit stone hall, aimlessly watching the patterns on the parquet flooring. Her guard trailed behind, allowing her privacy. There was something to be said for silence, she decided.
She'd only been walking along for a couple of minutes when she was startled into looking up. Another silent Haunt with the same insignia she'd noticed on Keilor and Jayems blocked her path, and he seemed to have business with her. Uneasy, she looked to her own guards, only to see them salute the newcomer with a fist over their hearts and a slight bow. They gave her a slight nod as well and then returned the way they'd come.
Bewildered, she considered the Haunt in front of her. A replacement?
Deciding to test her theory, she took a step forward as if she intended to go around him and he fell into step with her. Relieved, she continued with her walk, gradually relaxing as he did nothing but accompany her. Her steps slowed and she settled back into an aimless meander.