Queen of Darkness

by Patti Larsen

  Which meant she was now the more dangerous of the two.

  Hard to take Batsheva seriously anymore as she paced and snarled before cackling and twirling like a demented fairy tale princess in front of her mirror. Sad, actually. Depressing. As much as I was happy to see her go down, I wanted her to be aware of her fall. Her defeat now seemed like a mercy killing.

  One good thing came out of it. Everything she babbled confirmed what Demetrius told me. So I knew I could trust him. Nice to know I hadn't lied to Mom and Margaret.

  Whatever Batsheva's original plan for bringing me to her chamber, by the time she wound down, Piotr finally groaning awake at my feet, a heavy knock on the door broke up the festivities. Six bulky Enforcers entered, black cloaks sweeping around them as the lead, a hefty man with jowls to rival a bulldog, spoke in his British accent.

  “The negotiations reconvene,” he said. “Your presence is requested.”

  Way to save the day. Batsheva dimpled at him, though her blue eyes flashed with anger.

  “Of course,” she snarled. Glanced at me. Turned even paler than usual, quite a feat. Spun on Celeste. “We were supposed to kill her.”

  Celeste's scowl almost made me laugh as she grasped her leader's arm. “Time to go, my Queen.”

  “But we brought her here to kill her. Why is she alive?”

  I almost commented, wondering why the Enforcers watching this particular farce unfold didn’t comment, react, nothing. It was up to me. And I was so close, snark hovering on my lips. But I let it go, let them leave without further comment, two Enforcers coming to my side as their leader nodded to me.

  “Miss Hayle,” he said. “I'm Elliot Pearson. Margaret sent me for you. You're well?”

  “A little bored,” I said. “Thanks for the rescue.” I followed him out into the corridor where Pender and two other of Mom's Enforcers waited.

  “She's all yours,” Elliot said. Winked at me. “You've got my vote, missy.”

  Flirt. I winked back. “Nice to hear it.”

  Pender bowed stiffly to his counterpart and waited until the others left, Elliot whistling to himself, before bending over me.

  “Your mother was concerned,” he said, voice strained. “I hope you're well?”

  “Very well.” A laugh bubbled inside me at the absurdity of my last hour or so. “I have to talk to Mom.”

  His face crumpled. “Not possible now,” he said. “Margaret reconvened the talks only a short time ago, though they should break in a bit. Shall I escort you back to you quarters?”

  The very place I wanted to be, trapped in my princess cave. “I guess so.”

  Lost in thought, trying to come up with a way to use Batsheva's madness against her, I didn't even consider the fact something else might be amiss until I found myself outside my door.

  What was left of my door. It had already been damaged when Mom put on her little show of don't screw with Miriam Hayle. But now it lay scattered on the floor in large chunks and sharp splinters, claw marks gouged so deep in some of the pieces they almost reached all the way through.

  Thought left me, terror gripping my throat in a chokehold as I ran through the gap and looked around at the devastation. Shattered furniture laid crushed and crumpled, fabric torn, the carpet ripped in strips. By claws.

  Very sharp claws.

  “Charlotte!” I raced to the bedroom where the overturned four-poster told me a story that only increased my fear for her. I spun to Pender who looked as shocked as I did. “Where is she?”

  “I don't know.” He turned and snapped his fingers and the two Enforcers with him dashed off. “We'll find her.”

  Panic. I reached for her, dove for my vampire. Your kind hate werewolves, I sent. Can you track her through that?

  I don't hate them, she sent. It's the young one's taint that drives them to such bias.

  Whatever. Can you find her or not?

  Patience, Sydlynn, she sent. I'm as worried as you are. Pause, painful, slow, agonizing, wretched. I've found her.

  Our minds flashed together, out of my body and to Charlotte—

  Snarling, snapping, in pain, devoured by rage, an iron chain holding her down, icy cobbles under her feet, the open sky above while stone walls hold her in.

  And the enemy. Cold, their scent of the grave and dust and death, surrounding her. Coming for her with their fangs, ready to drain her blood.

  I jerked back to myself and reached for my vampire, trying to transport.

  They’re blocking her location from me. Even she sounded desperate. I can see her, but I can’t get a fix on where they are holding her.

  I didn’t wait for her to finish, already running, out the door, Pender on my heels.

  And into two bulky vampires who tried to stop me.

  “Where is she?” My entire body vibrated with the need to hurt them both so much they would beg me to stop. Beg.

  One of them shrugged with a little smile, but the other snarled at me.

  “The foul creature attacked our kind,” he said. “She waits in the courtyard for her execution.”

  I reached out with my magic, my vampire grasping both of them by the throat and slamming them into the wall, jerking them off their feet until they writhed from the pressure, howling in outrage until I tightened my grip, squeezing their undead bodies while they cried out in pain.

  “You will take me to her,” I said, the ice cold fury of my vampire pulling me deep into her magic, “and if even a hair on her head has been harmed, I will kill you both.”

  ***

  Chapter Sixteen

  It wasn't far to go to the courtyard I'd seen in my mind. Good for the pair of vampires I held firmly in my grip. Not so good for the crowd gathered around the panting, snapping, howling mess of my bodywere.

  I emerged at a stomping pace through a half-open door into the chilly evening air, my breath escaping in a soft puff of white from my mouth as my heels clattered over the cobbled courtyard. The interior space was all stone just as the vision showed, tall windows high above blacked out, the clear sky sharply pinpointed with uncaring stars.

  The two vampires in my grip went sliding forward and crashed into their fellows as my vampire power propelled them along, the hovering mob hissing and swiping at Charlotte, glimpses of her through their milling bodies showing me she'd transformed into her werewolf shape. They turned almost en masse to glare at me, spirit magic flashing in flames and lightning strikes around them.

  Assholes. Charlotte crouched, clothing torn to shreds around her, tongue hanging from her furred snout as she hunched over scorch marks on her pelt. Still mostly human shaped though larger in size, back legs hinged like a wolf's, she represented the best of both races, tied into one very dangerous package.

  If she'd been free, the vampires wouldn't have stood a chance. But chained and collared, tortured from a distance while her only focus was on finding and saving me, she was at a distinct disadvantage.

  One I was about to correct.

  They let me through, though I felt their animosity, none of them bending to help their fellows rise from where they'd fallen. Nice to know family meant so much to them. I ignored them as though they were of no consequence, though I snarled and let my vampire show her power to one who reached out to pull me back. The vampire retreated, ducking her head while she hissed at me.

  Charlotte whined, low and deep, a painful sound as I came to stand next to her. I wished I could crouch and put my arms around her, comfort her, but no way was I showing weakness in front of this particular bunch. Not when the icy fury of my vampire still had a firm hold, fed by my own human rage.

  The locked cuff around her neck released under my touch, spirit magic tearing apart the mechanism holding it in place. She clawed at it a moment until it fell free, clattering to the chilly stones, the sound echoing back at us from the surrounding walls. I reached for her cuffs when one of the vampires finally managed to stir enough guts to speak out.

  “Stand aside,” he snarled. I spun on the vampire
who spoke as he continued, pretty-boy face ugly to me, no matter how polished undeath made him. “This abomination is sentenced to die.”

  “On whose authority?” I touched her cuffs, heard them fall away, felt her slide up beside me, pressing her furred body against my skirt.

  “Vampire authority,” he snapped back, looking around for support while the others nodded, power pulsing and fluttering.

  “Just so you know,” I said. “You have no idea who you're dealing with. Not really.” Are you ready to fight for her? I reached for my vampire.

  No spoken answer. But yes, yes indeed. She was so ready.

  The pulse of magic she'd sent out in the throne room had scattered the approaching vampires, knocked a few down. I'd been impressed. But that had nothing on the sheets of lightning she now sent out, slamming full-force into the central mass of the hovering vampires, sending them back at such a speed thunder rolled through the quiet of the courtyard, the sound of splintering bone and cries of pain rumbling like an approaching storm.

  “Just so you know,” I said.

  Naturally I was given a glare or two by Margaret as she and Mom, the two Queens flaring with rage behind them, hurried into the courtyard to survey the damage.

  I reached down and helped Charlotte to her feet, wincing inwardly as her face shifted, hands shrinking, her human form taking over again. She stood shivering beside me at last, one arm over her exposed chest, head down, body covered in tiny burns, the remains of her torture session.

  All of a sudden my vampire's attack just didn't seem like it was enough. And from the rush of her power flooding to the surface, she agreed with me.

  I didn't get a chance at a second strike. Not with Margaret sizzling with magic, plump body blocking my way.

  “What the bloody hell is going on out here?” She spun to survey the damage before refocusing on me. “Tell me this was self-defense.”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “These undead,” I wrinkled my nose though I caught the wince from Sebastian as he joined us, Sunny wide-eyed with a grinning Uncle Frank beside her, “dared to attack my bodywere. Mine.” I pulled Charlotte closer. “Under my protection.”

  Margaret heaved an angry sigh as Pannera drifted forward. “What is the meaning of this, Pannera?”

  The vampire Queen caught my gaze and held it. “I surely don't know,” she said.

  “Batsheva.” The name grated from between the portly Council Leader's clenched teeth.

  “This thing attacked my people, from what I understand.” Batsheva sniffed, turned away as though the sight of Charlotte offended her. “Punishment is death. Law. Vampire law.”

  “Like I said,” I shot back. “Charlotte is under my protection.”

  “And mine,” Mom said, stepping forward. “If she attacked your vampires,” Mom didn't even bother to turn and address Batsheva directly, a total snub I would hug her for later, “it was because Syd's life was in danger. She is, after all, her protector. So tell me, Batsheva,” Mom spun slowly at last, her very best cold, powerful, majestic face firmly in place, “was my daughter's life in danger?”

  Batsheva had enough of a hold on her marbles to stay quiet.

  “And yet,” Pannera said, narrowed eyes locked on Charlotte, “the werewolf attacked vampires. What are we to do about the law?”

  “Maybe if you people would stop kidnapping me,” I snarled back, vampire rising, a challenge right there on the edge of my tongue, “she wouldn't have to defend me against you. Or defend herself for that matter.”

  Right back atcha.

  Pannera's scowl deepened, but I didn't give her a chance to talk. Hell no, not while I was on a roll.

  “I'll tell you one thing,” I said, stepping forward into her space while her vampires hissed at me, “the next time one of you tries it, I'm not going to stop at broken bones. The offender will be dead for real. And there won't be any coming back from the kind of death I'll deliver, you better believe it.”

  Pannera didn't exactly back down. There was too much anger in her for that. But I guess I got my message across because she spun and refocused her attention on Batsheva. “I want to know why she was in your company, alone.”

  I snorted, actually enjoying the irritation Pannera showed at my amusement and the sudden defensiveness on Batsheva's face. More interesting, however, was the flare of anger and disgust from Celeste before she put a cap on it.

  “You're just pissed she had access to the power and you didn't,” I whispered to Pannera. Who twitched as if I'd poked her with a pin.

  “Enough of this childishness.” Margaret rubbed her face with both hands. “Vampires. A bunch of petty children with stupid rules and not a lick of sense among you.”

  Pannera backed off, though even as her face settled into calm, she allowed her power to touch the vampire inside me.

  “Your pet may live,” she said, much to the disappointed outcries of the gathered vampires, some of whom had recovered and regenerated enough to join us again. “But you are responsible for her, Sydlynn. And if she breaks our laws, it will be as though you have, too.”

  Oh, hell no.

  “One more attack,” she said with a small smile now mirrored by the hovering vampires, “and I'll kill her while you watch, before draining you dry.”

  ***

  Chapter Seventeen

  The words, “You can try,” bounced around in my head the whole walk back to my quarters. Charlotte remained glued to me, blonde hair falling over her face. I stopped near the doorway to the interior of the castle, the cold air pushing against my back and confronted Sebastian with a glare I was sure surprised him.

  “Jacket,” I snapped.

  He slid it free, broad shoulders straining against his white shirt as he laid the velvet jacket around Charlotte's shoulders before bowing his head to me and backing away.

  A little respect? Yeah, I'd take it, though I wondered what the show cost him.

  I waited until we were behind the brand-new door a pair of human servants installed before turning on Charlotte and screaming at her.

  Well, screaming was a bit of an exaggeration. Talking very loudly and with great emotion while my body shook so much I could barely catch my breath was more like it.

  She took my anger and fear, finally uncurling from her hunch, Sebastian's jacket pulled tight around her. When I wound down, panting and pacing, she nodded slowly. Miserably.

  “May I go clean up now?”

  Seriously. “Just git.” I waved at the bedroom door. “And the next time you decide to go after vampires in their territory, you'd better make sure they finish you off before I get my hands on you.”

  She flashed me a little smile. “Sounds familiar,” she said. Hadn't she warned me of the same thing on the beach, not so long ago?

  I grunted, but couldn't help smiling back. “Are you okay?”

  Charlotte shuddered, a dog shedding water. “I will be,” she said, ever so softly. “Thank you for rescuing me.” Her eyes met mine, open, young. For the first time in a long time, I remembered she was my age, just a teenager doing an adult's job, giving a really good impression of hiding how scared she must have been most of the time. “Thanks to both of you.”

  My vampire sighed softly, a thin thread of white magic sliding out of me and stroking hair from Charlotte's cheek before retreating again. The weregirl turned silently and padded to the bedroom, softly closing the door behind her.

  We were left alone for a long time, long enough Charlotte cleaned up and re-emerged, dressed in one of my riding get-ups, Sebastian's jacket over her arm. She looked much better herself, though a small, dark bruise on her right cheek told me she'd done wonders with hiding what happened behind her usual stoic attitude.

  “We have to talk.” I led her to a sofa, sat next to her. “You're not going to like it.”

  Charlotte just stared at me, blank face back. Um-hum.

  “You can't do that again,” I said. Felt like a broken record. “Charlotte, do you understand?”

  Sh
e nodded. “I can't help it,” she said. “And I'd repeat my actions in a heartbeat.”

  Oh boy. “They'll kill you next time,” I said. “And they won't give me a chance to save you.”

  A moment of anxiety showed through her mask. “I can't,” she said, a bit of puppy whine in her voice. “The кодекс честi won't let me.”

  The what?

  She sighed and sat back, accent more noticeable than usual. “My people, our ways. The кодекс честi. It means debt. Honor debt.” Her head swiveled slowly toward me, eyes sad. “It goes back to the days when we served the Czars. But it is the name we use for the bond we have to those we protect.”

  “Charlotte.” I drew a deep breath so I wouldn't yell at her again. “You don't owe me anything.”

  “I do,” she said. “My pack does. My father was to be your охоронець. Um... bodyguard. But he had no honor.” Tears filled her eyes, tears she dashed away with great anger, the wolf flashing in her eyes for a moment before retreating again. “It was up to me to rebalance the pack's caн.”

  Even I could figure that one out. “Trust me,” I said, “you've done more than enough to bring honor to your pack.” I hesitated, only because she'd already been through so much and I knew what she was going to say to my next suggestion. No, what she was going to do. But I had to try. “I think it's time we severed the bond.”

  Charlotte lurched to her feet, body humming with rage, hands fisted at her sides, the wolf back in her eyes. And this time it looked like she wasn't going to let it go. “No,” she said. “Never.”

  “Look,” I said, “it's not that I want to. You've done a great job.” Wow, Syd. Way to make her feel cared about and all that. “You've been there for me when no one else was.” Better. “But I care about you very much, and I don't want to see anything happen to you.”