She shrugs. “Then we’ll kick his ass until he begs us to stop.”
I grin at her. Hayles. I love them all.
***
I’m clean. It feels amazing and though I probably didn’t have time to shower, I couldn’t bear the feeling of myself any longer. I’ll take time for a more lengthy bathing after this is done, but for now, the five minutes of super-hot water and harsh scrub gloves with heavy-duty soap have made me feel alive again.
I devour a plate of steak and mashed potatoes, slathering on a healthy helping of gravy while my friends talk around me. My wolf chuffs her pleasure as the rare meat grinds between my teeth. I almost groan in pleasure at the first bite, barely taking time to breathe as I dig into the first meal I’ve eaten in days.
Three days, as it turns out. I refuse to think back, not yet. There might be time later to allow myself to curl into a ball and relive the moments of pain and horror with Andre. Maybe with Sage by my side to hold me and stroke my hair, whisper his love for me. But not now, not until he is restored, my people are safe, and my grandfather is free.
Isabelle and Maks sit across from me, the delicate vampire smiling softly, sadly, while Maks tries to steal a bite of my steak. I stab at him with my fork, growling as I hunch over my plate, and he grins at me as if it’s funny.
It kind of is.
“Caine and his pack aren’t sitting comfortably in the palace,” Maks says while I finish my dinner. “The coercion is wearing thin without the sorcerers to reinforce it.”
“Would Rupe have abandoned Caine to his fate?” Femke taps her fingernails against the side of her glass. “The Californians are Belaisle’s creations, are they not?”
I nod, swallow so I can speak. “He confirmed it,” I say. “He wants Sage. And I wouldn’t put it past him to drop Caine like a hot rock if he could have something more valuable in exchange.”
“But you still think Rupe is at the palace?” She doesn’t doubt me, I can tell that, but she has to ask.
I think about it, chewing more slowly before shrugging. “It’s the only thing I can think of,” I say. “We can check when we free Oleksander. And if he’s not there, then we go to California.” I know Femke has already alerted Tallah Hensley and her coven. I overheard her as I entered after my shower. So if Rupe does show up back on the west coast of America, we should have some warning.
“Sounds like a plan.” Femke nods, blonde hair swinging around her pale cheeks. “The werearmy is prepared to move?”
I don’t look at him as my father speaks. He won’t meet my eyes, either, so I give up trying. “We are,” he says, sounding more like himself than he has for years. More like he did when my mother was alive. Hopefully, his shift in attitude will last. I need him to lead the werewolves against Caine so I can sneak in and surprise him.
I set down my fork, finally full, as Isabelle speaks up. “The vampire families are both willing to offer assistance to the werenation.” She dimples at me. “My queen wanted me to assure you she’s one hundred percent in favor of returning the Moreau family to the throne and will act on your orders.”
That’s a huge offer. Centuries of animosity between vampires and werewolves technically ended when Syd freed us. The Black Soul’s sorcery had been the source of our mutual hatred, it turned out, but old habits die as hard as old wolves. There are still those among my people who hold unwarranted hatred for vampires, and vice-versa, I’m certain.
I nod to Isabelle, mentally sending love to Sunny for her generosity. It’s hard to accept, though. The pride of the werenation, hovers inside me yet. But I square my shoulders and embrace this new sense of partnership, knowing the more bodies I have for a frontal assault, the easier it will be for me to come in the back door.
“Please offer my thanks to Her Majesty and my acceptance of her offer as the heir of the werenation.” I’m not, officially. Caine has seen to that. But no one here seems to think it’s anything more than semantics.
I turn to Femke, knowing what she’ll have to tell me in answer, but wanting to ask anyway. Since offers are being made, and all.
“Council Leader Svennson,” I say, holding my trust for her in my heart as her blue eyes, unreadable, lock on mine. “I would ask for the help of the European Witch Council in official capacity as the heir to the throne of the werenation. My people need your help and I would request you intercede on our behalf.”
Femke holds my eyes a long moment. “Thank you for your belief in us,” she says. “Such a request is a huge step for the werewolf race, and an even bigger one for all the magic nations. It harkens a new dawn of cooperation and trust in each other.”
I sit, tense and wary, but hopeful as she pushes her glass away.
“Though it might require a meeting of the Council, I’m making an executive decision.” She stands and the rest of us join her as she circles the table and comes to my side. “The European Witches Council recognize you, Sharlotta Moreau, as the true heir to the throne of the werenation and declare Cicero Caine a usurper.” I bite my lips to keep from shouting my excitement, heart pounding as she goes on. “Because of the state of your nation, I and my people choose to support your efforts to reclaim your throne and liberate your race from said usurper.”
I reach for her hand, grasp it tight, as Femke’s mind touches mine.
You and Syd, she sends with a thrill of her own nervous excitement, are a terrible influence. And I love it.
You could be deposed from your leadership for this, I send.
They’ll never do it, she sends, smiling. I scare the crap out of them. Besides, I’m tired of politics. If this is the end of my career, so be it. I’m sure there’s a certain coven in North America that will take me in if I’m outcast.
I hug her. And a grateful werenation that will do the same.
Femke kisses my cheek and turns to the others. “A coalition of magical races.” She grins. “I’m speechless.”
***
Chapter Twenty Two
I sit on a velvet-cushioned bench behind the throne at Castle Wilhelm, hands folded in my lap though I long to wring them out of my need to act. Sunny sits across from me, handsome Frank Hayle standing behind her, sympathy in his blue eyes as he smiles at me. Isabelle sits next to her queen, tense, but eager as the ruler of the Wilhelm clan turns to her tall, attractive counterpart lounging next to me beneath the stained glass window. Sebastian’s dark curls shine in the light as he nods to Sunny.
“Clan DeWinter is at your service,” he says to the queen before smiling at me with his charismatic flair turned on to maximum. “And at yours, Your Highness.”
Everyone is calling me that, ever since Femke’s little speech. I know it’s a reinforcement of assurance. They need to feel they are doing the right thing, and the constant reminder is their way of shoring up their own courage. Though, in Sebastian’s case, I know he’s doing it to tease me because he can.
I don’t argue with the title. I have to at least try to play the part if this is all going to be even quasi-legal. Femke is right now assembling the Council to tell them of her decision and I can only hope they don’t kick her out of Oxford.
I will not worry about her. Femke is more than capable. And regardless of whether or not I have her assistance, I’m taking back the palace and saving my grandfather.
“Has anyone seen Syd?” I am concerned for her, if only because no one has brought her up and she hasn’t made an appearance.
Frank shrugs, a little frown replacing his smile. “Mir told me Max dragged her off before we found out you were taken. Something about an emergency in the veil.” His sympathetic expression makes me almost angry, but not at him, or at Syd. At the fact he thinks I would be angry or upset at her for not being here. “She has no idea you were taken, or she would have been here for you.” I wave off his assurance, since I already know it’s true. But that also means Sage went looking for someone who wasn’t here on this plane. So where did he end up? “I’m sure she’ll be back as soon as she can.”
“Her tasks
with the drach take priority,” I say, only a tiny petulant part of me wishing it wasn’t the case. “And the hunt for Sage?” I haven’t been able to track him, even with full power at my command. Which leads me to two fears—either he’s dead and lost to me, which I refuse to accept, or he’s shielded.
And only one kind of power would be able to keep him from me.
Blue fire shimmers and Femke steps through. She looks harried, points of red at the tips of her cheekbones standing out against her pale skin, but she nods and smiles at me, if with a crackle of anger in her.
“The Council agrees with my decision,” she says, crisp, sharp and I know she’s paid a price for the win. “We will assist. But, this must happen by the book.”
“Which means?” Sunny greets her with a bow of her head, gesturing for Femke to sit. She does, pulling off leather gloves, her black robe shoved back from her button up and black dress pants.
“We have to give them a chance to surrender,” Femke says. “At least, my Enforcers do.”
“Leaving the rest of us to hit first and ask questions later,” Sunny says.
Femke winces. “Not exactly.” Her deep sigh stirs my empathy and I pat her hand as she goes on. “They’ve agreed to the coalition,” she says. “But only if I’m running it. Which means the forces must be at my command and follow my rules of engagement.”
This is a problem. Sunny appears instantly irritated, though Sebastian laughs, shattering the tension before it has a chance to build too far.
“How typically witchy,” he says, winking at Femke. “The DeWinter Clan is willing.”
Sunny stares at him with open shock. “You can’t be serious.”
He shrugs. “If something were to happen in this first coalition, a few of our people acting without our knowledge or permission, why, that would simply have to be blamed on the infancy of our agreement, would it not?”
Sunny’s anger fades into a gorgeous smile. “I suppose that’s true,” she says before nodding to Femke. My witch friend looks slightly ill, but when she laughs with them, I know she’ll be fine.
“I don’t want to know,” she says. “Okay? Just don’t tell me and it will all work out.”
I scent him before he appears, though this time I look up and greet my father with a nod when he joins us. “News,” he says abruptly, collapsing onto the bench beside Femke.
“Tell us.” She turns to him, offers her hand glowing with power. He rejects her generosity, head hanging, weariness rolling from him, tainting his scent.
“The sorcerer Rupe is indeed at the palace,” he says. “I’ve only just come from there and have seen him with my own eyes.”
Sunny raises her fingers to a pair of young vampires who hover nearby, both dressed in cloaks, looking back and forth between their queen and my father. They nod to her and retreat and I realize they must have volunteered to be his transportation.
“Perfect.” Piers rubs his hands together. He’s on a low bench a few feet from me, long legs stretched out before him. “That leaves me free to act and Mum can’t say a word about it.”
“She’ll expect you to include her,” Femke says. Sighs. “And the Council will, too.”
“The Steam Union aren’t an official part of this coalition,” I say.
She rolls her eyes at me, but she’s smiling. “You’re getting good at this, you know.”
I fake shudder. “Save me.”
“There is more.” Raoul leans around Femke and finally meets my eyes. “They are planning to kill Oleksander at dawn. They know you’re coming for him and I’m certain this knowledge came to me as part of a trap to capture you.”
“Maybe so,” I say, “but are they aware we’re all working together?”
He shakes his head. “I do not know,” he says. “I doubt it.”
“A werewoman and her friends aren’t much of an army,” I say. “Even with such powerful people on my side. But a gathering of magical forces such as has never been seen before?” I find myself grinning in wonder. “Let’s see if their little plan can be turned on them.”
Raoul is quiet as the others murmur their assent. “Oleksander,” he says, “isn’t the only bait for this trap, Sharlotta.”
And in that moment, my fear is realized. “They have Sage.”
He nods, misery rising from him. Why is he so upset? Surely not for me. He’s always been too selfish to care about the hearts of others.
“The wolf he’s become,” Raoul says, “is a revenant.”
I shake my head. “That’s the sorcerer control,” I say, though I have no idea if I’m right, if Sage will return to me after Rupe’s hold over him is broken. “Shutting down his mind. Once he’s free, he’ll be fine.”
Even Femke hesitates, but I cut off all argument by standing, jaw set and determined. “Sage is mine to deal with, no matter his condition. Agreed?”
No one moves.
“I will go in alone,” I say, voice quiet, deadly. “I will rescind my request for aid and ban all of you from the werenation and this conflict. Sage is mine.”
“Like hell you will.” And Syd is there, arms crossed over her chest, pony tail swinging as the cut in the veil she traveled through seals shut behind her. I beam a smile at her, a tremor taking me at the sight of her. There were moments, in Andre’s care, I wondered if I’d ever see her again. Having her here, so close to me, her familiar presence and scent giving me courage, I can’t imagine we’ll fail.
The gathering of leaders all nod at last, even Femke, though she is the final one to do so, blue eyes on Syd.
I exhale heavily and shake out my tense hands. “Excellent,” I say. “Shall we invade my nation?”
***
Chapter Twenty Three
Our war meeting finished, the others leave Syd and I alone for a moment, though by design or accident, I’m uncertain. My limbs tremble as she closes the distance between us, her face crumpling into hurt before she hugs me in fierce need.
Someone informed her of my captivity, that much is obvious. She doesn’t whisper an apology or blame herself, but I know both run through her to the bottom of her soul. The Dumonts are witches, after all. But I can’t allow her to shoulder a burden that’s not hers.
“I’m here,” I say softly in her ear, only for her hearing though the others have retreated far enough, backs to us, I know they can’t discern my words. “And I’m safe.” My arms tighten reflexively around her as she nods against my shoulder. “As for the rest, it will resolve itself someday, when the ones who hurt me have suffered sufficiently.”
Syd leans back, wipes at tears on her cheeks with the shoulder of her t-shirt, blue eyes sad. “Can I watch?”
I laugh, without pain or sorrow behind it, just for the joy of being with her. Our bond might be gone, but I will always feel better when I’m at her side.
“It will be messy,” I say, “and involve screaming.”
She shrugs, hands diving into her pockets. “Earplugs are cheap,” she says. “And I’ll stand back.”
We grin at each other, a pair of crazy women, but I know her offer is real and I love her for it.
“I understand if you have to go again,” I say. “The safety of the veil comes first.”
She shakes her head, brow furrowed. “Not this time,” she says. “Max and his crew can handle the mop up. I would never have gone if I’d known you’d been kidnapped.” There’s her guilt again, shining in her face. Her hands twitch in her pockets. “I should have stayed and made sure you were safe. But Femke assured me she’d keep you from attacking until I got back.” Her blue eyes fill with tears. “I didn’t meant to be gone so long, but time in there,” she jerks her thumb over her shoulder, referring to the veil, “goes by so differently than out here.”
I touch her cheek with my fingertips, brushing back a strand of her hair won free from her ponytail. “You did exactly as you needed,” I say, “and all is well.”
Her lips twist in protest, but she sighs and nods. “What happened?”
“Do you really want to know?” I won’t tell her, regardless. She carries enough with her already and I am strong enough to endure.
Grim, she reaches for me, fingers tight on my wrist. “I really do.”
I manage a smile, tight and angry, but not at her. “It doesn’t matter now,” I say. “Femke has ensured the Dumonts will never set foot in Europe again. And though I hold out little hope for her support, perhaps Erica will deal harshly with them for their involvement in this mess.”
Syd’s eye roll and wry snort mirror my own feelings. “Likely,” she says. “The day Erica actually does something useful is the day the Universe comes to an end.” She winces at her reference, makes a little sign with one hand in rainbow light. “Knock on elements.” Her eyes tighten, a few tiny lines showing, the crease between her brows so much like her mother’s I almost smell lilacs. “You’re more patient than I am. I’d have just killed them and been done with it.”
We both know she’s lying. Syd avoids such ends at all costs, even more now she’d been the deliverer of Ameline Benoit’s death. The girl deserved it, and I am still proud of Syd for doing what she had to, to protect her family and the Universe. But she is mostly bluster and temper, though I’m not complaining.
“Forgive the intrusion.” We both turn at the sound of Piers’s voice, though I felt his approach moments before he spoke. “I’m about to contact my mother and was wondering if the two of you would like in on the conversation?”
Syd links arms with me. “Wouldn’t miss it,” she says.
I hesitate to speak, though we follow Piers to where Sunny and Frank await with the rest of our friends. Only then do I notice Alison, Sebastian’s shadow and Syd’s former best friend turned ghost turned who knew what, hovering on the periphery. She still held herself apart from the rest of us, despite all the years that have passed. I gesture for her to join us and see the surprise in her eyes, the gratitude, before she slips ahead and stands at Sebastian’s side.
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