by Faith Hunter
“Dark Queen stuff, FireWind,” I said. “Raisin was working for Adan”—I pointed to the vamp’s body—“who was leading the assault, and she tried to kill a human.” I pointed at Quint. “And me. And that guy attacked the Dark Queen of Mithrans. My security dude”—I pointed my bloody sword at Koun—“took care of him. If you have questions, then I recommend you get the State Department and Congress to give us a final ruling on whether vamps who lived most of their lives in the U.S. are U.S. citizens or not. And check the law regarding humans working for undocumented vamps who try to kill other humans. But remind the political types that if paras and their ancient blood-servants are counted under U.S. law, they have to build jails for all the different strength levels, daylight requirements, full-moon shape changes, and meet the dietary standards for us all.” I grinned and paraphrased the old movie Jaws: “You’re gonna need a bigger police force.”
Aya scowled.
Into the mic, I said, “We need a cleanup crew in here, and put one on standby in the gym. Get the vamp funeral home people to take care of the bodies.”
“Yes, My Queen,” The woman said into my ear. Sarah. Right. Nice raspy voice.
“We need the heads, My Queen,” Koun said. He explained why.
“Well, that’s gonna make a mess,” I said.
* * *
* * *
Only moments before, we had left the humans and vamps in the foyer, and now we stood in front of the gym doors covered in explosive dust and gore. I was sure that I looked gruesome enough on my own, but this time I was preceded by a bloody Koun and a bloody diminutive blonde, dangling two heads by the hair in her left hand. Koun had assured me that the display was in keeping with vamp battle and war and would cause my enemies to quake. Blood was still dripping from the vamp heads, and I had been careful to step over bloody tracks and splatters, because gummy and dried blood would be really hard to get out of the fur between my toe pads.
We could hear the noise of the vamps and humans inside. Koun looked us all over, said “My Queen,” and threw open the doors. He strode inside, Quint to his left.
She held up the two heads. My lady-in-waiting and personal bodyguard had a gift for the theatrical. Then she shouted, “Behold the trophies of the Dark Queen and quiver in fear! Behold her enemies!”
Well. That was a new one.
The gym went instantly and weirdly quiet.
* * *
* * *
The large space was set up for all kinds of training, sports, and fighting. It had basketball hoops, rubberized sword training circles, bleachers, and ways to set up for indoor tennis and shuffleboard. The cameras had been updated. Again. They were everywhere. Right now, the bleachers were full of spectators. Derek’s handpicked crew—my heart clenched, and I had to shove the grief down—the remaining Vodka Boys and Tequila Boys were holding weapons on a row of vamps and humans who were lying facedown on the wood floor. The armed crew were hard-faced and grieving, their expressions telling me that they wanted to shoot the entire bunch for just the possibility of being involved with Derek’s loss but were holding back. Most of the prone prisoners looked as if they hadn’t gone down willingly. I spotted Eli in a shooter’s position with a rifle in the far doorway.
Chuffing, I let out a sigh. I spied Bruiser among one of Derek’s teams.
“My Queen,” my Consort said, and bowed with a flourish that left me distinctly uncomfortable.
The others in the room bowed too, except Derek’s team and my personal security, including Quint and Koun, who kept an eye on everyone else.
I wondered what I was supposed to do in response and then decided since I was queen, I could do whatever I wanted. I gave Bruiser what I hoped was a regal nod. “My Consort,” I said.
“Behold the enemies of the Dark Queen,” Quint said again, which had to be for emphasis since everyone had already seen the drippy heads.
I started to stride closer, but Beast thought at me, I/we do not run. This is stalk. This is ambush hunt. Beast is not prey. Beast is best ambush hunter.
Yeah. Right. I slowed and drew the vamp-killer, letting the soft shush of steel and silver slither through the air. With a measured tread, like what I’d use if I were still the vamp Enforcer, I walked along the line of trussed prisoners. Sniffing. Flehmen response. Loud. As I walked, the room, which had gone quiet when I entered, became deadly silent. No one moved. I walked to the end of the prone people, turned, and walked soundlessly back toward my starting point. Cat-silent. Making a spectacle of myself and my team, a visual power play, a threat to any who were part of the murders of Derek and Storm.
My heart rate, which had been too fast since the explosion, began to settle. I had a purpose, a job to do. I studied every face. Breathed in their scents.
Quint, bless her heart, walked beside me. Heads dripping. With her free hand, she was holding a sword. I had a feeling she wore her nails unpainted, pared straight with clippers, trimmed her hair with kitchen scissors, and would never ever ask me to go for mani-pedis. She could be invisible yet had a flair for the dramatic. I was starting to really like this woman.
Koun stood at the doorway, a bloody giant of a man, two swords drawn, drying blood on one, his long blond hair loose and bloody too. Quint glanced at him, did a minuscule double take and returned her attention to the prisoners. But her scent changed. Quint might be a sociopath, but she had a strong sex drive. She was interested in Koun.
Back at the beginning of the line, I stopped and said, “In this form, I can smell who drank from Rais—Ernestine and who fed her. I know your scents. Therefore I know your guilt.”
The vamp prisoners—already still—froze.
“Yeah,” I said, dropping the queenly verbiage. “I know everything.” I pointed at three vamps. “These three are lower-level followers. Haul them to the scion lair, lock ’em in cages, and leave them there for a while with armed guards. My most trusted Mithrans will bleed and read them, but they will not be fed. When the enemy vamp prisoners get hungry enough, they can decide if they want to swear to a new master, knowing they will be bound by my loyal vamps and integrated into the households at bottom feeder status. The rest of the fangheads? They smell of Adan Bouvier, Shaun MacLaughlinn, Ernestine . . .”
I stopped. The blood scent was familiar.
In Beast’s scent-brain, things, relationships, scent-concepts began to come together. Ugly dog, good nose, she thought at me.
I knew that dogs could often scent who was related to whom in a household, and they used that scent to figure out which humans to protect and who to obey and which human was the strongest. They could trace that familial scent. In the same way, the part of Beast’s brain recognized whose family this blood odor came from. Crap. This was going to be dicey. I waved Quint away. “Alex, are you on comms?”
“Affirmative,” he said into my ears.
“You put a surveillance system in Ernestine’s office,” I said, for the benefit of the gathered. “Will you play a little of the most recent convos over the HQ speaker system?”
Alex said, “Yes, My Queen. They’re lined up and ready to play. The most recent, first.”
Adan’s voice came over the speakers. “Did you find it?”
Raisin answered, “No. But the creature did. It was in his desk. She has it at her home now. Using the blood, you can take it from her, you and your Firestarter.”
My brain locked up for a second, then flashed into overdrive.
They were talking about the arcenciel blood that Ka collected during the battle, and the locket, which Leo had thought might be important. I glanced at Bruiser and he nodded. The locket was safe. And . . . Ah. The locket was why they had attacked me at my home and not on the road. That and all the other goodies hidden there. Killing Storm and taking her blood must have been an added bonus. But . . . Ka had been bitten by the dying arcenciel, and the venom of the rainbow dragons was toxic. Ka might not be as stable as she once was. And someone had rescued her. Who?
Adan said, “We must hav
e it, as well as the remains of the spike. Sabina hid everything before the fire. We must reacquire it all.”
Raisin said, “The creature must be removed. Once she is gone, the amulets and icons are ours. Take her.”
“With the locket and the dragon’s blood collected during the battle,” Adan said, “Ka will become my weapon. With the spike, she and your Onorios will be able to restore Mithran control of the Council of Mithrans. And when Shaun takes the creature’s head, the crown will release and accept Ka as its new master.”
I held up a hand, knowing that Alex was watching on the cameras. The audio cut off.
Ka, Adan Bouvier, and Shaun might be able to hold on to the vamp political world if le breloque accepted her as Queen. If I let any of the twisted, layered, betraying plans succeed, my people would suffer and die. All of the spectators’ eyes were focused on me as I let the hush build. The memory of arcenciel fangs in Ka’s neck flashed through me. I had to wonder how that was gonna impact the layered vamp / Gramma plans to betray vamps and take my place. A worry for later.
One of the vamps on the floor made an attempt to leap up and run. The closest guard kicked her feet from under her, flipped her over and staked her in the belly.
Though I hated to be one of the monsters, I had to play the part and play it well.
So I laughed. My laughter was part growl, part predator, the big-cat kind that tore into live prey and ate the innards while they still kicked. A couple of the prisoners shuddered. I held up a finger again, twirling it to continue.
On the recording, the Firestarter’s voice said, “All our aims have been met except taking the crown and the amulets. We have the outclan priestess. We will not fail.”
My heart wrenched.
There were gasps throughout the gym, even vamps taking a shocked breath.
I hadn’t heard this part of the recording. There was no way they had Sabina. It was impossible. I had last seen her at the attack on the warehouse. My eyes found Bruiser’s, his shocked too. The timelines didn’t work unless they took Sabina the instant after I saw her. That . . . that was very possible. Damn.
A different voice spoke, Ka saying, “The creature has humans digging at Sabina’s chapel. They will find the amulets and the icons, and we will take them.”
Adan said, “The old way of life will return, under our control.”
“Stop,” I said when I could finally speak. The recording went silent.
I closed my eyes, fighting a paralyzing fury. I took three short breaths, rage like a wildfire in my blood. They had Sabina. Grandmother had Sabina.
I inhaled deeply and blew out a hard breath, letting the smell of my rage breathe into the room. My fangs flashing, I snarled. Growled. The vibration was like a generator filling the room. Fearsome. Magnificent. My rage roared at the vamps, Choke on the very idea of me!
I reined back on my anger and pulled on the power of le breloque and also on all the knowledge I had about vamps. This was a delicate negotiation, not a violent one. I didn’t look at Bruiser. “Consort. Onorio. I ask you a difficult thing. Knowing that the guilty Mithran traitors among us will be judged tonight, are you willing to partially drain and question them?”
“You do not ask me to bind them, My Queen? You would leave them free to do you harm?”
Bruiser stared at me, but I didn’t look back. I knew how he felt about binding anyone. He had been bound by Leo and had done things that still gave him nightmares, thinking they were good and perfect and Leo was good and perfect as well. But our enemies had Sabina. They had breached our defenses. Bruiser would use any gift to keep me safe.
That said, vamps bound by Onorios were even less independent than humans bound by vamps. Vamps bound by Onorios were clingy and had to be cared for like pets. But . . . these vamps were traitors and murderers, and I was a new predator in a vamp kingdom. I was making a statement. So was he. And I needed to know where Sabina was.
“Not by you, Consort. These are my enemies. They’re part of a war against this reign. They’re part of the group who attacked”—I paused as grief and fury welled up in me, emotions I had no time for right now—“and killed Derek and Storm. They will never be free to do me or mine harm.” After an uncomfortable silence, I looked at him and willed him to understand that I hated what I was doing.
“Yes, My Queen,” he said, softly.
I met his eyes. They were kind and vaguely amused. Yeah. He got it.
“I am Onorio. I will drain and question the Mithrans who resist you. I will not bind them.”
“Koun, my Executioner,” I said. “When my Consort has taken from the prisoners’ minds what he will, and should I deem death a reasonable judgment, you shall behead the guilty, here in this room, to be witnessed by all.” I forced the last of the heated fury away into a deep part of me where the frozen grief for Derek and Storm were stored, the fire and the ice coexisting inside me.
“Yes, My Queen. It will be my joy.” Koun snapped his fingers and pointed to a blood-servant. “You. Bring my ax.” He returned his eyes to me. “To protect My Queen’s most precious floors, it will take two strokes of the ax. This will be infinitely more painful.”
I didn’t agree or disagree. “Tonight, traitors will be weeded out.” I showed my fangs. “And dealt with. One. By. One.”
Two other Mithrans bolted and were flipped and staked.
Their blood scent filled the room. They smelled of Ka. They had drunk from her. Fed her.
“Consort,” I said.
“I am your servant.” He moved into position and paused, looking them over. “And their humans, My Queen?” he asked.
“Where they end up is up to you, Consort.”
“I am honored at My Queen’s trust.”
I gave that regal nod again, remembering the white werewolf nodding, figuring I looked just as stupid.
With a measured step, Bruiser walked to the closest staked vamp, the woman who had tried to run first. Bruiser knelt beside her and put his hand on her forehead. A guard pulled out the stake with the soft sucking sound of wood on flesh. The vamp screamed. She lifted a hand. Dropped it and went eerily still. Bruiser’s eyebrows drew together over his Roman nose; a puzzled look crossed his face. Then a lot of nothing happened. It felt as if it was taking too long, but no one moved.
My anger was contained in the dark crevasses of my soul. Breathing was easier. I hadn’t noticed how hard it had been to take in air since Derek and Storm died. I hadn’t noticed how high my heart rate had been. Now I was doing something. Vengeful Cat. The I/we of Beast. Inside me, Beast panted softly, her energy gathered close, ready for attack.
After an eternity, Bruiser stood, his face still faintly puzzled, telling me he got something from her mind that left him confused. “She will answer your questions, My Queen.”
“Who is your Blood Master?” I asked her.
The female vamp said, “My master is Shaun MacLaughlinn, the wearer of the Snake of Snakes.”
No surprise. “Why Shaun? Why did you swear to him?”
“He is food for no master,” she said with pride. “He drinks from the Heir of the Sons of Darkness.”
That caught my attention and Bruiser’s too. He frowned hard, his eyes going distant as he did a mental search for such a person.
In my ear, Alex murmured, “On it.”
The vamp said, “The Heir gave unto him the amulet called the Snake of Snakes, and from it he acquires great power. He feeds from the Heir, and when the Heir comes, all the world will be restored.”
The Sons of Darkness, the creators of vamps were dead. True dead. Deader than dead. And this was the first time I’d heard about an heir. Lucky me. I let my voice become a growl. “The name of the heir, this master that Shaun feeds from?”
“Mainet Pellissier.”
I had seen that name recently. Something dark and icy stabbed through me as I recalled where I had seen the name Mainet. Once long ago in the vamp bloodlines, and recently, handwritten in Immanuel’s journal, on the front page.
Immanuel Justinus Henri Mainet Pellissier, in the year of our Lord, Seventeen Ninety.
Immanuel, the u’tlun’ta, and Leo’s son and heir, had been named after him.
She sat up, suddenly, and reached for Bruiser. I’d seen that expression on a vamp’s face before. It was the beginning of Onorio binding.
“This is all that I can do without binding her, My Queen,” Bruiser said.
“Stake her,” I said to the blood-servant who still held the dripping stake. The wood floors were going to be hard to clean with all this dried blood on them. To Bruiser, I added, “Drain that one,” and pointed at the next in line.
It took four vamps before we found another one Bruiser could drain deeply enough to control without binding him. From that one, we learned that this Mainet fanghead was still in Europe. A problem for another day, no matter what he had planned.
I had always wondered who had fed the real Immanuel to a nutso skinwalker u’tlun’ta and then put that imposter in place. Who had pulled all the strings? The black magic would have given Immanuel’s u’tlun’ta memories but not muscle memory, not physical skills, not body movements and emotions. Not handwriting. Who had taught that imposter the minutiae he needed to walk among vamps. Who had provided the teachers?
A freaking dang Pellissier, of course. Why the hell not?
However. Shaun was our problem right now, and he had the fancy snake amulet that gave him some kind of magical power or protection. Snake armbands were common amulet forms, because they could be worn under or over clothes, could be filled with multiple magical workings, and could double as jewelry, which allowed hands-free fighting. I sometimes wore empty snake armband amulets as part of my ceremonial gear.
I asked more questions. Got a lot of jibber jabber gobbledygook.
I looked at Koun. “Stake these vamps. Toss them all into the sub-five basement. Put guards all around them armed with silver blades and shotguns loaded with the special silver-lead fléchette rounds. If one of the vamps so much as twitches, kill the vamp true dead and put the body in the sun. Separate their humans. Secure them in the breakroom The humans will go to new masters for incorporation into any clans willing to accept them. That means throughout the entire U.S.”