by J. K Harper
There were few new things in the world—few things Rhett hadn’t seen or fought or kissed. But the Raven Queen’s palace was one of them, and for that he was grateful.
The grounds were bustling with activity. The Queen had a legion of raven shifters and raven-blooded mortals at her beck and call. She was more than an Alpha to her people, Rhett could see. She was their mother and their queen and their goddess all at once, and her people feared and adored her.
The Queen cocked a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at Rhett as he approached. “No costume, Mister Bear?” She clucked her tongue at him and then grinned widely, with a hint of madness in her eyes. “That is all the better! Tonight only two people will be revealed to the world and you are one and I am one.” She tossed back her head and laughed loudly but Rhett just stared at her, waiting for her act to finish.
He’d met her before, in passing. She liked to visit Bearfield with an entourage of servants, all bowing and scraping before her. The Queen was eerily beautiful, with a model-skinny body and curly black hair that spilled everywhere, but she was exactly not Rhett’s type. Maybe it was the high drama personality or maybe it was just that Rhett liked thicker women, but the Queen did not do it for him.
Tonight she was wearing nothing but hundreds of flat black jewels affixed to her naked body and a long sheer black scarf that somehow managed to always cover up her sex. She had black lips and eyes that swam in shadows and walked barefoot on the muddy ground.
Rhett knelt before her, carefully lowering his gaze in the way Danny had taught him. “My Queen,” he said, “I, Rhett Calloway, pledge myself to your service for the period of Halloween night and will do all that you ask, provided it is also that which I wish to do.”
Did he say it right? Danny had drilled him on it, making him say the words over and over. The Queen was an old-school sorceress, even if she was pretty young actually. Contracts with her carried magical weight, and she loved to use the agreements to her advantage. More than one person had found themselves bound to her after hastily agreeing to some ill-conceived deal.
“Rise, Rhett Bearheart, Rhett Scarskin, Rhett who-kicked-Bigfoot’s-ass. Rise and be my champion and knight for the evening against those who threaten my awesome party,” the Queen said in a tone that was both regal and gently mocking. “You will find my assistant, Jennifer, inside in the kitchen and she will give you your instructions and see that money crosses your palms.”
“Thank you, my Queen,” Rhett said, averting his gaze.
“Do you know why you’re here?” she asked.
“Because Danny loves parties?”
The Queen laughed loudly, her voice cracking and becoming a cawing sound that exploded into the world, sending all of the ravens in the trees into a chaotic storm of bird calls.
“You are here,” she said, “because tonight someone is going to try to steal from me.”
Chapter 3
The van drove faster than Simone was comfortable with, taking the curving mountain roads too quickly and barreling through the forest to the Raven Queen’s palace at white-knuckled speeds. They very nearly sideswiped an old maple and definitely ran over a dozen lanterns that had been lining the road. She could have forced the driver to slow—she knew spells to compel caution that even the affected would not notice—but she had to be careful. The Queen was one of the most powerful sorceresses on the west coast. Even with all her precautions, Simone could only keep hidden for so long. The key was to lay low. To not use any sorcery unless she absolutely had to in order to avoid being sniffed out.
She’d left all her enchanted objects at home—well, nearly all. In her day-to-day life Simone draped herself in magic, like most witches. She had a ring that made people ignore her, which she always wore. She had a necklace that prevented people from remembering her. She had an ancient Babylonian coin that brought her luck and an earring crafted for a Cahokian ruler that made food taste amazing. She rubbed the pitch of a sacred ash tree on her feet every morning, so in case there was danger she could leap out of the way. Her clothes were lined with secret glyphs and in her back pocket she carried the name of a demon, whom she could call for help but only once. She’d done him a favor, years ago, when she was in college.
But she carried none of that now. She didn’t even have the sacred ash rubbed into the soles of her feet. She was going magic free, so she could stay hidden, and it made her feel utterly exposed. Without her ring and necklace, people spoke to her. They looked at her. As she exited the van, handsome men in dashing suits turned and gave her appraising stares like she was dinner delivered by a waiter.
With all of her planning, she hadn’t counted on feeling so revealed. Suddenly her slinky dress felt too sexy. Her cleavage was too ample. Her hair was probably a mess.
“This is so exciting,” squealed Sarah, who pushed past Simone and then stopped, gawping at the immense palace before them.
“Holy crap,” she said a little too loudly. “How is this even possible?”
Danny stood next to her, his mouth also hanging wide open. “How have I never heard of this place?”
“Because the Raven Queen has soaked the ground in blood magic,” Simone said casually. “But not, like, her own blood. It’s mostly animal blood. Or the blood of her enemies.” They gave her that look again, like she was speaking ancient Babylonian to them. “It powers wards that cover the castle grounds and parts of the forest, too. It’s why the trees are so huge and gnarly out here. They feast on not only magic, but shifter blood.”
Danny and Sarah exchanged a look that Simone hadn’t seen in a long time. It was the this girl is nuts look and it sucker punched her with shame.
“Okay, cool. It’s been nice meeting you,” Simone said. “I’ll see you in the party.” She was about to push her way through the crowd—but she was stopped short when lightning cracked down from the sky and split a tree in half with a boom that shook her bones.
Somewhere, not far away, in the Raven Queen’s dungeons, her heart jumped a little.
From the lightning-split tree the Queen herself emerged, wreathed in fire and black smoke with lightning crackling across her fingers. The infra-scent of magic made Simone’s nose wriggle with an uncontrollable itch. The Queen was throwing around serious power without any regard.
“Happy Halloween, my friends and lovers,” the Queen beamed. “I’m so pleased you all could make it. Not everyone has arrived yet, but I do so love to be punctual and so we shall start the festivities.” The Queen stepped out of the burning tree and sauntered back and forth before the massive doors to her palace. Behind her hung handmade strings of bones and crystals, interspersed with paper Halloween decorations that Simone was ninety-nine percent sure were purchased from Target.
The Queen was covered in a sheath of jewels, glittering in the firelight in a dazzling display. Had some servant of hers glued them all to her skin? The woman was ridiculous. She had all the power in the world and she chose to do such odd things with it. Not that Simone did much with her magic either, but it was the principal of the thing. The Queen’s only nod to modesty was a thin sheer black wrap that circled around her breasts and hung before her crotch. It waved lazily in the wind as if at any second it might fall away and reveal the Queen’s secrets, but Simone knew it never would. It was an old spell, a cheap trick designed to drive men crazy—and by the way the men in the crowd stared and groaned quietly, it was working.
“You might be asking yourselves why we are having this party tonight, as Halloween has for ages been a day when our kind would rest. It was a day to let the mortals take the night and call it theirs. And for years I have been happy with this arrangement. But then last year, at a mortal party, I had such a wickedly good time. There were surprises and love and such clever mayhem. How could I not try and top it?” The Queen waved her arms, and from the shadows some half-naked men emerged carrying velvet trays bearing elaborate masks of the Venetian style.
“Halloween is for lovers. Halloween is for mystery. This is why I have crea
ted a very special treat for you tonight. Please step forward and choose a mask. Any mask will do. Some of you chose to wear costumes, many more did not, but it does not matter, for tonight we shall all be something different!” The Queen laughed riotously as the guests stepped forward and chose their masks.
Simone hung back, maneuvering with the crowd so that she was always far away from the men with the trays. But they were persistent and handed her a mask anyway. It was a simple white domino, with a smattering of pearls and feathers on the front. She took the mask with a smile but didn’t immediately put it on.
Others in the crowd were hastier.
One man with a mask that was painted in tiger stripes put his on and yelped in surprise. “What’s going on?” he yelled.
“Please, everyone, put your masks on! Once they are on I shall explain tonight’s game.”
One by one, everyone in the crowd donned their Halloween masks. Simone looked hers over carefully. She only had seconds before her not wearing it would be suspicious, only seconds to figure out what the Queen’s trick was.
On the inside of the mask she could see the faintest silvered runes, sparkling in the moonlight. There wasn’t just one spell on the masks, but dozens all looped and linked and twisted together. She didn’t understand a tenth of it, but the craftsmanship was breathtaking.
Next to her, Sarah and Danny put their masks on and both gasped in surprise.
She could use a counter-charm to break the spell in the masks, but the Queen would sense it. She could create her own duplicate mask, given enough time, but one by one everyone present put their masks on. It was now or never.
Simone scratched at the mask with one fingernail, breaking one of the runes. If she lucky, it would turn off all the magic in the mask. If she wasn’t lucky, putting it on would scramble her brain. It was too bad she left her lucky coin back at home.
She put the mask on, and for a moment the world around her winked out of existence—and then it was back, but changed. The dark, scraggly forest was now a majestic lush countryside. The Queen’s treehouse of a palace was now a proper castle, straight out of Disney. But more importantly, Simone couldn’t recognize anyone except the Queen herself.
“As you can see now,” the Queen cackled, “the masks will add mystery back to your lives. All of your friends are now strangers. Your lovers are unknown to you. Until the sun rises, life is a mystery and love could be waiting for you in the arms of anyone around you.” The Queen grinned widely and then put a mask on herself, instantly vanishing amongst the crowd.
What had she done?
The doors of the palace leapt open and the partygoers streamed inside. A heavy bass line thumped and muscled men wearing very tight pants and nothing else carried trays of bubbling, glowing drinks.
Behind her, a man she didn’t recognize was pleading with two of the servants to remove his mask. They had fresh trays of them, waiting to hand them out to any late arrivals.
“Please,” the man said, “you can’t do this. I’m here with my wife, Sarah. I can’t find her now. I don’t remember what she looks like. Please, help me.” But the servants ignored him as if he was invisible to them, which he may have been.
“Danny,” Simone said, but the man didn’t acknowledge her. She shouted his name louder, but he didn’t hear. The concealment spell was total. He didn’t know his name. He didn’t know what his wife looked like. What should have been a fun party had turned very frightening for him, indeed. It made Simone feel a shocking stab of pity.
Was being close to her heart making her feel more intensely?
“Hey, Danny!” She grabbed his shoulder and gave it a little shake. The man was ridiculously muscular. Touching him was like touching very warm, very handsome stone. Something in Simone’s belly curled around on itself.
“Sarah?” he asked, searching her eyes for an answer. “Is that you?”
In a flash, Simone realized she could say yes. She could say she was Sarah. She could kiss this handsome man, or more, and no one would ever know. She had complete anonymity. It was a judgment-free night.
But she’d never do that. Married men were absolutely off the menu.
Hell, why was she thinking about men at all? She should be focusing on the prize—her heart.
“I’m not Sarah,” she said, “but maybe I can help you find her?”
Chapter 4
She hadn’t warned him, not really. The Queen told Rhett she had a surprise planned that would make the party more fun, but he’d been expecting her servants to hand out free drugs or a spell that got everyone naked or something. Not this.
This was madness.
Once the masks went on, the doors opened, and the music started blaring, the tone of the party changed. The guests went apeshit. Completely bananas. Everyone was dancing and screaming and kissing each other. If the Queen wanted to top last year’s Halloween fiasco, she was well on the way.
Rhett wore a mask, but it was a normal, vanilla one. No magic. He’d sniffed it long and hard, trying to tease out if the Queen had left some nasty surprise for him, but all his senses told him it was legit. He put it on and felt slightly ridiculous. It was a black domino mask, like some old-time superhero might wear. Who was that guy? The Green Hornet’s sidekick? Bruce Lee played him in the show—he looked like that guy, but about eight times bigger.
He was the only person in the palace who could see and who could remember. None of the Queen’s gothy little raven servants were allowed inside, except to wheel in carts of drinks and food with their eyes averted and then scurry out. If bear shifters tended to be large and muscled and given to expanses of appetite, the ravens went the other way. With the exception of the Queen, they were small people. Not just short, but skinny, with greasy black or white-blonde hair invariably hanging in their faces. Alone, you got the impression that they really didn’t want to talk to you and would much rather be smoking clove cigarettes and reading Baudelaire and listening to Bauhaus. In groups though, they could be vicious.
There were more shifters at the party than Rhett was comfortable with. Danny was there, somewhere, hopefully clinging to Sarah and riding out the madness. There were a few of the werewolves who worked in town, hanging out in a pack, still. The masks may have fooled their human brains into not recognizing their friends or lovers, but their wolves knew each other. Sebastian, the son of the Grand Alpha of Bearfield, was there somewhere, but the rest of the Morrisseys were sitting it out. Matt and Michael had kids to take care of and literally no one wanted Marcus at a party. There were others there that Rhett didn’t know—a caribou shifter who lived out on the ridge and a lion shifter who was just in town for the party and others that Rhett got a sense of but couldn’t pin down.
At least those asshole dragons from Winter’s Breath stayed away.
Someone at the party was a thief, though.
The Queen had showed him, in her offhand way, that her warning system had been triggered. She had a painting on the wall of the Raven Kings of old, which she claimed changed to reveal threats and treasures. “The fifth king, Godfrey of Tannenbrook, do you see? His head is turned to the right! Someone will steal something precious from me tonight,” she’d said.
There were two dozen kings and one queen in the painting, all posed oddly and stiffly. He’d have to take her word for it—he was being paid to, at least.
“Any idea what’s going to be stolen? Knowing would make this job a lot easier.”
The Queen laughed in response. “It could be anything, you gruff old bear.”
“Maybe they’re going to steal your virginity?” Rhett growled. He hated vague jobs. Protect this guy—he could do that. Break that dude’s arms—okay, no problem. Steal a magic bone from some crusty old shaman—you got it. They were all clear goals. He liked clear goals and concrete solutions.
“My virginity? One cannot steal that which has already been given away freely.” The Queen’s eyes glittered as she spoke.
“Your anal virginity then?”
&nb
sp; The Queen cocked an eyebrow at him. “Is that a thing? You bears have such odd ideas of the world.”
Rhett rubbed a hand across his face. “But look, it could be anything, right? You have a palace full of treasures. Any one of them could be stolen. Or, hell, it could be an intangible. You know how prophecies work—they’re never obvious. Maybe you get button-holed at the party by some boring chick who wants to talk to you about her Pinterest philosophy and she steals your precious Halloween time?”
The Queen sniffed and regarded him down the length of her long, perfect nose. “No one that I’ve invited would do such a thing. But if that is all that is stolen, Rhett Bonesnapper, I shall consider the night a victory and your fee well-earned. For know this—I have treasures here in my palace that I hold more dear than moonlight and more than my crown, and if one of them gets stolen this night I shall be very cross with you.”
As she spoke, power coalesced around her like a purple fog. It made Rhett’s skin crawl and his bear cower. There were stories about the Queen, about the things she could do. Pretty Brandon swore he knew a guy—a werewolf—who so offended the Queen that she reached into his heart and yanked his wolf out and kept it in a cage. He could never shift again. Brandon said the dude sat at the zoo and just watched the wolves sleeping and wept.
When you work for the Queen, you better not mess up.
Rhett walked a circuit around the main throng of the party. He counted one hundred and thirteen people. But he knew only a hundred had been invited. Some party crashers were expected, of course, which was why the Queen had masks enough for everyone, but he didn’t like the numbers.