We were drawing farther and farther apart. It was clear to me that Ian would never come back to Brooklyn. He was rising far above all this. I didn’t even know why he was still writing me. Just to be nice, I guess.
I had a pretty basic job today. Roy thought some guys in Coney Island were dealing a drug that was potentially lethal to bird shifters. I would check it out, and then the heavies would run them out of there based on what I found. I was wearing a loose yellow sundress that hid the knives at my thighs, and carried a striped summery tote. I looked ready for a fun day of beaches, hot dogs, and rides. One day, I thought, I’ll actually go here to enjoy myself.
I shot Ian a text in reply.
Got your chocolates. Hey, shoot me a pic of what you’re wearing to your first day of class & I’ll tell you what you did wrong.
Ian’s fashion sense was pretty bad once you took him out of a school uniform.
That was the best way to reply to his long letters and emails. Joke around, acknowledge his existence, nothing more. I wouldn’t give him a reason to think he should come back to all this.
Back to me. I swallowed a traitorous lump in my throat when I thought about the warm feeling I always had with Ian. His dimples. His hands. Even his nerdy t-shirts that he kept when they had holes in them.
I was walking up the stairs at the subway stop when I got the sense I was being followed.
I glanced behind me. Nothing.
My instincts were usually good. I stayed wary. I didn’t look behind me again, but I glanced in glass windows to check my surroundings without being too obvious, and stayed in crowds of people.
Is it that car?
The black car was some sort of classic, and it looked expensive, so it was hard not to notice it, but it stayed with me as I walked.
I veered down a different street.
The car did a u-turn in the intersection and screeched up beside me. Now I ran. The door of the car opened slowly behind me.
“Frankie!”
‘Curiosity killed the cat’ is an apt phrase. I should have kept running. Instead, I turned.
It’s him. Waylon Silver.
Sure, I recognized him. But last time I saw him, he was fourteen. Now he was very grown up. Very.
Six feet or probably a little more, broad shoulders, and a black-on-black suit with a loosened tie that brought me right back to my crush on Ian when he was wearing his school uniform…except this look was much more sophisticated. No school boy charm here.
Another man got out of the car with him. He was just as tall, but leaner, slinkier, prettier. A bird shifter, with hair dyed red and the face of a model.
“That’s her,” the bird shifter said. “She’s cute.”
“Spare me,” Waylon said. He walked up to me slowly and I was frozen in my tracks. It was too late to run.
He was dripping confidence and a cold-burning anger, his lip almost sneering a little, except for his step, which was slow and occasionally hesitating. He was wearing stylish sunglasses.
He never got his eyesight back…
I calmed down just a little, despite the puddle of guilt. Okay, I could actually take him no problem. The bird guy wasn’t much of a threat either. Birds were no match for cats.
There were more dangerous threats from Waylon than physical violence, however.
“I just got into town,” Waylon said. “I bet no one told you I was coming.”
“Why would they? We don’t have any business with each other.”
“I see.”
“I mean…we don’t,” I said. “I do have business elsewhere, so I’m going to go.”
“No, you’re getting in the car and we’re going to talk.”
“Like hell am I getting in your car! That’s the first rule of avoiding a kidnapping!”
“Please. You flatter yourself if you think I want to kidnap a scrawny brat.” He jabbed a thumb. “We’re going to talk and that’s all. Get in the car.”
“I’m on a job!”
“If you want your secret to stay secret, as I assume you do because clearly you are not doing anything to save shifter-kind, Black Queen…get in the car.”
Time stopped for a second as I realized that it was all over. This was it. The moment I’d been dreading for ten years, shoving as far to the back of my mind as possible. Hearing someone address me that way was even more terrifying than I could have guessed.
Black Queen.
My knees actually shook a little. After all the danger I’d faced, those two words were going to do me in.
I got in the car.
Chapter Four
Frankie
“Okay, so lay it on me then,” I said, trying to dismiss it all. “What do you want?”
He got in the front seat with the bird shifter, so I was just stuck looking at the backs of their heads.
“I’ll give you one point for not trying to play dumb,” he said.
“I don’t want your points. I think that—incident—was just a fluke. It’s never happened again.”
“Do you want it to happen again? Not with witnesses. Ansel, take us to Dead Horse Bay.”
“Are you just choosing places to take me based on how ominous they sound?” I asked.
“I just like lonely beaches,” he said. “And I want the truth out of you, so it wouldn’t hurt if you feel a little threatened. But I am the last person who would actually kill you, aren’t I?”
Because he knows I’m the Black Queen…
Over the last ten years I had tried to bury that memory. I had become even more disciplined in my daily work, because I was so afraid of letting that power out of me. I was afraid I could hurt someone on accident, but I was more afraid of simply being discovered. I knew everyone in Istara was waiting for a savior, and I knew I would fail them. I was a nobody. My whole life was based around keeping quiet and slinking around. Following orders. It would be a huge mistake to make me a leader, and it seemed an even more terrible fate to be ordered to murder other people with the blink of an eye. The power I used that day was too devastating. It shouldn’t even exist.
I couldn’t imagine what he would want that I could give him.
The car drove out to the edge of the borough and we parked.
“Only one other car here. We’ll take the most remote path,” Ansel said.
Waylon stepped out of the car. A cold wind whipped at his brown hair, which had the same very loose curl as it did when he was young, but it was a little longer now with one strand that kept falling in his eyes, and he had sideburns and a stronger jaw. He looked very dangerous, and maybe it was just an illusion he worked hard to cultivate, but I would stay on guard. I knew how well he could fight when he was young.
He had a small silver hoop earring in each ear, finely etched with some script, and two silver rings with the same. Those are probably enchanted to enhance his senses, I thought, so if we do get into a fight, if I rip them off him, I can probably take him. I’d get rid of the bird first.
Ansel was slim and a little too pretty to be a good fighter on the surface, but he also looked agile. Definitely some skill but probably not as much as me. He was also wearing a tie and I’d use it to choke him.
Always have a plan of attack. First order of business.
We walked some ways and even had to cross a street. The whole time my nerves were winding tighter and then I would take deep breaths and unwind them again. But I couldn’t seem to stop them from twisting right back up.
Waylon took a deep breath of the sea air. “Ahh. That does take me back. I used to come out here and drink with some friends. But…I’ve been sober since that day. So I do owe you a thank you.” His voice dripped sarcasm.
“You’re welcome.”
“Now, we’re going to talk,” he said.
“Fine. Go ahead and talk. But…let me just say upfront that the last thing you would want, I’m sure, is to elevate me to being the savior of all shifters. On one hand, I would be terrible at it. I’m not a leader. On the other hand, I’m s
ure my ego would get completely out of control. So you would just have an incompetent egomaniac on your hands.”
“I’m sure your ego could be controlled by the right…guidance.”
“How do we even know that the prophecy is even right? Maybe I’m not going to help the shifters. Maybe I’ll just make things worse. And I don’t know how to use those powers at all.”
“You’re giving up without even trying to learn.”
“It doesn’t worry you at all to hand all this power to me? I let it get out of control with you already.”
“There are many things worth worrying about in this world and you’re not the worst of them,” he said. “No. I’m not worried about your power. I’m worried about your denial. It’s selfish of you. Think about how fucked up this world has been for us for centuries. The deck is stacked against us but there might be this one shining chance for us to turn the tables and you’re just going to shrug it off because, I don’t know, it might inconvenience you.”
“Inconvenience me? Is that what you think this will do? It will mean surrendering my entire life. Forever. Becoming a tool of Viktor or whoever gets their hands on me.”
“And it might also mean we could end the practice of ‘breeding’ and ‘pets’ and all the laws that let humans treat us like we’re animals. You’re a declawed orphan who does a shitty job in order to survive. But you don’t care about saving thousands of other kids like you? Because you’re afraid of being a tool? So don’t be a tool. You’re the one who can murder people with a glance.”
We had reached the end of the path, where a beach at low tide was strewn with old trash. Bottles. Bones. Some metal scraps. Seaweed, tires. Waylon walked at a slow and measured pace. He was definitely not at an advantage here. Ansel gave me a small smirk as if to say, Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, but I’m sussing you out too.
I huffed. “How long has it been since you remembered?”
“A month.”
“Only a month? All these years you had no idea?”
“No, not exactly. I didn’t remember what happened, but over years of thinking about it, I started to wonder and put it together like a detective case. I knew you found me there and claimed to have run away. I knew something happened to me that could never be explained by drinking. I was holding a gun that wasn’t mine. For some reason, I hid the gun instead of bringing it home. I didn’t want my dad to guess what happened. I decided I needed to remember on my own, and over the years, little pieces would come together. I had plenty of time to think and dream up reasons for it all. By the time I remembered, I think I already knew. But I needed that confirmation before I found you.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I realize that I must have messed up your life.”
He burst into laughter. “What a small voice. How cute.” I didn’t think he meant it as a compliment.
“I’m trying to apologize!” He made me feel ridiculous for trying to be nice to him.
“You can’t mess up my life. Wealthy and attractive people get whatever they want.”
“I don’t think that’s true at all.” Wealth couldn’t buy you love, and it could only buy health to an extent. “Maybe my powers could give you your sight back. I’m sure you want that.”
“So now you suddenly have a desire to be helpful.”
“I just want to fix what I messed up. I don’t want to owe you anything. I’m never going to be the queen you want, so I just want you off my back. But I am sorry about maiming you.”
He grinned. He looked disconcertingly pleased with himself. I don’t know why, since I was the one offering to try and fix what I messed up, without giving in to what he demanded of me.
“Okay,” he said. “Heal me, and I leave you alone. Otherwise, are we in agreement that you owe me one favor?”
“I don’t just offer people favors without knowing what they are.”
“It will be in your wheelhouse,” he said. “I won’t ask you to be queen. It’s unfortunate, but if you really are this reluctant, I can’t force you.”
I had a good sense of intuition, and I felt I was being played. But I didn’t have as much leverage here as I liked. He knew my secrets. If he spilled them to everyone, who would they believe? Me or him? I was terrified of that incident from years ago being re-evaluated, and word of it traveling up all the way to the leadership of Istara.
“Okay,” I said. “Either I heal you, or I do one reasonable favor for you, and then we never talk again.”
“Sounds good.”
Waylon stopped walking and held out his hands. “Give it a try.”
“Now?”
“When were you thinking? You want to make a dinner date?”
“No. Definitely not.” I looked at his hands and noticed that they seemed twice the size of mine. I didn’t want him to feel my crippled fingers, and I was getting increasingly annoyed by the sense that he was winning this power play.
“Do you need a place to sit?” Ansel asked. “I could drag over a few old tires. Give me ten minutes, maybe I could even find the remnants of a white plastic chair.”
“No,” I said, as sea air, smelling like dead fish, buffeted my face. I didn’t want to sit on anything here at this trashy beach, especially not in a sundress. “No, let me just concentrate. Be quiet.”
What was I thinking when I said I could heal him? I hadn’t used my power since that day. I had never again harmed anyone, but I certainly hadn’t healed them either. What if I tried to heal him and I killed him instead?
“I’m surprised you trust me,” I said. “You know what I can do.”
“If you kill me, pussycat, so be it.”
I looked at his smile. His eyes, shaded from my view. Maybe they wouldn’t tell me anything anyway. How had he grown so confident, dealing with this? This wasn’t a kind world for shifters at the best of times. My magic had surely set him back as far as fighting, getting an education, or just plain dealing with the world or proving himself to rivals.
But here he was, looking so cool and unconcerned with whatever happened.
I looked at his hands, still held out to me, palms open.
He was trembling. Just a little. But I saw it.
Relief washed over me. Now I know what you’re about, Waylon. You almost had me fooled for a moment. But you’re just like me after all, aren’t you? Putting up a front when you’re really scared?
I actually took his hands and with all my might I thought, Heal. Let him see me once, so I never have to see him again.
Chapter Five
Waylon
I already knew what would happen.
Still, for a moment I dared to hope I was wrong. All the information we had about the queens and their powers was practically folklore. I would never have believed they existed if seeing Frankie wipe those guys off the face of the earth wasn’t the last thing I ever saw, seared into my memory so that it was practically the only visual I still remembered—once the memories finally came back. I couldn’t remember what my own parents looked like, not really. But I remembered that slip of a girl, barely old enough to be worth a glance, annihilating her foes. Those hunters didn’t just die. They vanished.
Too much power for a relatively useless girl.
According to every record of the prophecy, the Black Queen’s powers were pure destruction. She was not here to heal or to nurture.
This girl had ruined my fucking life, but I would never ever let her know that. She wasn’t worth that much. Maybe I believed in this prophecy, but it was hard to believe in much else. Surely fate could have made better decisions in handing out powers than to appoint this girl as a savior of our race?
She held my hands for a very long moment. She squeezed my fingers. She even let out the tiniest groan.
“I don’t think magic comes out like a shit,” I said.
“Shut up. I’m…I’m trying.”
She kept trying for another minute or two and then she huffed. “Okay. I don’t know how to heal. Or maybe I’m just afraid to use
my powers at all because I don’t want to disintegrate you instead, although I probably should.”
“You’re not the queen of healing,” I said. “That’s the job of the Red Queen, or so they say. Maybe someday she’ll undo your damage. I bet she could give you your claws back, too.”
Her hands were withdrawing from mine, but now they paused.
“If you wanted to be helpful, you could try and find her, but since you’ve already made it clear you don’t want anything to do with your magic, I won’t mention it again.”
“I don’t need my claws back,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but I think a challenge makes life interesting.”
It was hard not to like that stubbornness that could match my own, but it was equally hard not to shake her. I had a right to be stubborn. She’d taken not only my eyesight but my memories, so I’d felt half-crazy for years. And I didn’t have some duty to fulfill. But she did. Stubbornness couldn’t be a good quality in someone with her level of power.
“All right,” I said. “Then let’s get it over with.”
“What?”
“The favor.”
“I have another job to do,” she said. “The one I was doing when you interrupted me. So yours can wait until tomorrow. I’m on a time schedule.” She moved with a rustle, and I thought she was looking at her phone.
“Fine,” I said. “How long will it take?”
“I—I don’t know. A few hours.”
“Do you need a ride?”
“Well, back to where I started from, yes. I guess you could drop me off along the beach…”
“Okay. We’ll do that and then we’ll wait for you, and then you can do me a favor and we’ll have it all wrapped up before dark and you’ll never see me again.”
“Fine! Sounds just swell.” She was sarcastic now. “I’m glad we wasted time at your weird trash beach.”
In the car, she was quiet but twitchy, a cat who wasn’t used to being caged. She smelled like the street, like movement and dirt and street food. I sat in the back with her now, and every time she moved, I tilted my head toward her. I could tell I was only making her more anxious, and I enjoyed that. I tried to decide just how disappointed I was by meeting her again all these years later.
Black Queen: Stray: Fated Mates Paranormal Shifter Romance (Shifters Among Us Book 1) Page 4