The Queen's Dance (Emerging Queens)

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  “Last I checked, it was my lake,” Remy said.

  “Not anymore it’s not, son. She’s the only Queen in this territory. Unless Viola is going to claim all the islands, too.”

  “I’m not interested in territory,” Margery said. “I’ve got an apartment in Manhattan.”

  The drake cocked his head. “I’m not sure who’s Queen of New York, but it ain’t going to be you. You’re not powerful enough to keep it when another Queen attacks it.”

  “I don’t think you understand,” she said, tucking the quilt more securely around her. “I’m not interested in dragon politics.”

  “Well, it’s interested in you, sweetheart.”

  “I’ve got my own life and my own career,” Margery went on as if he hadn’t spoken.

  “You need protection. I know Champ here is your protector now, but he’s useless as tits on a bull.”

  Remy shot him. A human would have had a gaping hole in his chest where the DU round punched through and into the tree behind him. The drake flew back, but he couldn’t see daylight through him. “How does useless feel, son?”

  “It doesn’t have to go down like this.” The drake coughed, slowly regaining his footing. He was a tough bastard. Remy could see why he was the leader. “Let the Queen make her own choice.”

  “It’s made,” Margery said. “I’ve accepted Remy’s protection.”

  Fuck.

  He was now her protector until she put together a formal court and he could petition to be relieved of duties. Remy couldn’t stop to glare in her direction. She probably didn’t even know what she’d just done. Still, he was a better choice than these jerk-offs.

  All he wanted to do was fish and be left alone. He didn’t need this Queen shit.

  “Is he your consort?”

  His body twitched in response. It might not be all bad after all. He’d never thought he’d have sex with a woman of his own species. And Margery was gorgeous as a human; he would have been buying her a drink if they’d met under different circumstances.

  “That’s none of your business,” she said.

  Remy grinned at her prim tone.

  “If you haven’t picked a consort yet, there will be plenty offering for the job.”

  “I’m in negotiations,” Margery hedged.

  Remy rolled his eyes. She was a bad liar, but the drake wouldn’t call her on it.

  “I’d like to offer the services of me and my friends.”

  “For what?” she asked.

  The drake looked at her like she was a little dim. Remy considered shooting him again on principle. But the DU rounds were custom-made and more expensive than what the satisfaction would be worth.

  “For anything you want. Provided that you turn a blind eye to some of the cargo that we’re shipping down from Quebec. Of course, you’ll be given a generous cut of the profits, as fits a Queen of your stature. We’re agreeable to setting you up with a mansion and your own yacht.”

  “Great. I’m Elmer J. Fudd, Millionaire, now,” she muttered.

  Remy cracked a smile.

  “What cargo?” she said.

  The drake slid his eyes to the red dragon doll that she’d left behind on the air mattress. Time slid to a standstill as three things happened simultaneously.

  Remy couldn’t contain his rage and emptied the clip into the drake. Drugging humans. Killing them. Not on his watch.

  Several more drakes swarmed the camp.

  Margery screamed and tried to shift. Her form fluttered, and for a moment he thought she’d make it, but after a brief blur, she was still human.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Remy saw her bent over, retching. He exploded into his dragon form. Even though he was a fish out of water, he used his tail and mouth to keep the drakes from coming in too close to Margery.

  Stretching his long neck out, he snapped a drake out of the air in midleap and crushed him in his jaws, shaking him until he died. He threw the carcass at another drake that was thundering in. Remy’s tail slashed out and bowled over two more.

  “Get to the lake,” he roared.

  Margery turned and ran, but into the house.

  “Idiot,” he called before he remembered he was addressing a Queen. At least the drakes would have to get by him to storm the house. Four drakes launched themselves on top of him. He barrel-rolled, crushing them under his bulk. Unfortunately, that exposed his belly, and two more jumped on. He turned again. That was fine. Let them come at him. If Margery had any sense, she’d be using the laptop to call for backup. If he was lucky, the delegation was in Vermont, staying at Viola’s farm in Burlington.

  He continued to twist, trashing the camp. Remy had a thought to roll them all through the woods down to the lake, where he could end this in a hurry. But the drake who was still in human form picked up the Barrett that Remy had dropped and took aim.

  Damn it. This was going to hurt.

  “Stop!” Margery bellowed. The crazy bitch was standing on the roof of his house. “As Queen of New York State, I command you.”

  Remy groaned. She did not just declare herself Queen of New York. She was so screwed.

  The drake held up a hand, and the teeth and claws puncturing him let up. Remy had a choice. He could take advantage and kill the one with the gun and risk death for disobeying a Queen. Or he could lie still and take orders. He was never good with orders.

  “I don’t recognize your authority…bitch.” The drake took the decision out of his hands when he turned the Barrett on Margery.

  Remy lunged at him. Bit him in half. But the drake got a shot off first. The remaining drakes scattered. Killing a Queen was obviously not on their agenda for tonight. It was a terrible death sentence, a slow, agonizing one. Margery was no longer on the roof. She was so tiny and already weakened. The shot and the fall, combined with everything else…damn it.

  In less than twenty-four hours a Queen under his protection had been killed. Remy’s body curled up in a fetal position as he shifted back to human. If he could get to the cabin, he could call the embassy to send reinforcements. Trying to stand was a bust. He couldn’t even get to his knees. He lay there panting from the exertion. He needed to be back in the water to heal his wounds, otherwise he’d die alongside her.

  Not just yet. He had a little more in him.

  Crawling toward the house, he was surprised at the grief he felt at the poor girl’s passing. The caliber of bullet hitting her at that close range, in her weakened state, would have turned her into a fine red mist.

  Nidhogg damn it.

  Remy struggled forward. He wanted to check, even though he already knew what he would find. Blackness tinged at the very edges of his vision, and his entire body spasmed.

  Maybe he was as useless as tits on a bull.

  He tried once more, every muscle in his body shaking with the effort.

  Nope.

  Live or die? They could find him with the rest of the dead bodies tomorrow. Or he could try and make it to the lake. The waters called to him.

  He stopped struggling and rolled an agonizing inch at a time until momentum took over, and his body tumbled down the long hill into the healing waters of his lake. The water cloaked him as he transformed into a dragon. Exhaustion stalked him as he swam to the deepest part of the lake and sank four hundred feet to rest at the bottom, trying to escape the recriminations in his own head.

  Chapter Four

  Falling off a house hurt like a bitch. But not as much as getting shot with a cannon would have. Margery hadn’t expected to be knocked out, though. She must have needed the sleep, because she could feel the sun on her body again. Maybe today she’d be able to fly.

  “Is she dead?” A shadow blocked out the sun, and she instinctively flinched. Oh, no, the drakes won. She was a prisoner again. At least they kept her out in the sun.

  “Obviously not, Reed. Back off, you big galoot. You’re scaring her.”

  Margery opened her eyes at the female voice and smiled at the dragonling hovering over h
er. She had thick thumbs and toes, no claws that Margery could see. Her face had a hooked beak, and her wings buzzed in excitement.

  “I’m Carolyn. We’re from the embassy.”

  Margery turned her head and then cowered before the large, black dragon looming above her.

  “Oh, don’t do that, you’ll give him a big head. And he’s the size of a bus already. That’s Reed, my consort.”

  “Hello,” Margery said. The black dragon landed with a ground-shaking thump. His bulk blotted out the sky. He was truly the most terrifying thing she had ever seen. Sharp horns ringed his neck, and two massive ones rose out of his forehead. His eyes were the size of footballs and glowed red. His claws gripped the ground as he steadied himself.

  “We’re from the embassy. Champ called us.” He swung his head around, his nostrils flaring.

  Champ. “Is he all right? Are the drakes gone?” Margery said, forcing herself to look at the smaller dragon.

  “Nobody here but us chickens,” Carolyn said. “You look like hell. Do you want to come inside with us?”

  “Remy doesn’t want me in the house. He says I should stay outside until I can shift back into a dragon. I’m…damaged.” Margery looked down as she got to her feet, not wanting to see the pity in Carolyn’s eyes. The sun bolstered her, and she straightened up with just a twinge in her back. “I tried to shift last night in the fight and wound up just puking up my supper,” Margery said, feeling like her old self again. Well, her old self without wings, anyway.

  “I hate when that happens,” Carolyn said. “Where’s Remy? You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “He’s not here?” Margery tamped down a flash of panic. “He saved me. He fought the drakes.” She staggered forward.

  “Easy,” Carolyn said. “I’m sure he’s fine. Why don’t we go inside and Reed can find him. I bet you’d like a shower.”

  “That would be heaven.” Margery felt like the entire forest was in her hair, and she ached all over from spending the night on the ground.

  The air around Carolyn shimmered as she shifted to her human form. Carolyn’s brown hair was swept back into a bun at the back of her head. She had tortoiseshell glasses and wore a pink polo shirt and jeans. She looked like a librarian, but that could be because she was carrying a book. “I brought you this.”

  It was James Fenimore Cooper’s Last of the Mohicans.

  “I know this is Lake Champlain and not Lake George, but I figured close enough. It’s a great book.”

  “I’ve never read it, but I saw the movie.”

  “Stay alive,” Carolyn recited and acted out, grabbing Margery by her shoulders. “I will find you.”

  Alive. “Remy’s okay, right?” Margery didn’t know what she would do if something had happened to him. It would be all her fault.

  Reed cleared his throat. He had shifted into a well-dressed Fed, which apparently he was. He was handsome in a hit-man–chic sort of way. He made the word “intense” a verb. “I’ll secure the perimeter and see if I can find Champ. I believe he’s in the lake, where he’s strongest.”

  Relief shook through her. “Can you check? Do you think the drakes hurt him?” Guilt nibbled at her. He had been so brave and a total badass. She was glad he was on her side.

  “In a moment. I need to process the scene out front. Carolyn, please take Margery inside.”

  The Smooshie doll!

  “I need to get something out front,” she said.

  They followed her around the house. Margery stopped dead when she saw the carnage. There were tracks everywhere. Dead drakes littered the ground, whole and in pieces. The log she and Remy had been sitting on was splinters. The air mattress was shredded into tiny pieces. She was glad the sea serpent–like creature that Remy turned into wasn’t among the fallen.

  Her relief was cut short when she saw the Smooshie.

  “Oh, no,” she said. She ran over and sank to her knees on the ground. The red stuffed animal had been torn asunder and was nearly unrecognizable after the pounding it took. She checked, but the pills were gone. Her proof was as dead as the drake carcasses.

  “What’s going on?” Carolyn asked Reed.

  “Take her inside.”

  “This was evidence,” Margery said, holding up the scraps of fabric. “I had proof that Smythe Industries was smuggling drugs in these Smooshie dolls.”

  Reed shrugged. “I’ll see what information we have on them. Smythe is on my shit list, anyway. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s into something like this.”

  “You don’t understand,” Margery said. “I’m not talking about Viagra or Percocet. This drug was made to chemically transform a human’s uterus so it would accept dragon sperm.”

  That stopped Reed in his tracks.

  “It’s killing more women than it’s making into incubators,” Carolyn said.

  “How did you know?” Margery looked up.

  “It’s one of my cases,” Reed said. “You have proof of this?”

  “I did.” She held up the remains of the doll.

  He took it from her and sniffed. “All I can smell are drakes.”

  “They knew about it, too.” Margery glanced around, but it didn’t look like any of the drakes would be talking any time soon.

  “I’ll get a team to track them. Please, don’t worry yourself about that. I apologize that we arrived too late to save you from the unpleasantness.” Reed inclined his head in respect.

  “The pirates who kidnapped me were shipping these”—Margery shook the battered dragon doll—“from Quebec to Vermont. The cargo and the yacht were destroyed when Viola and Remy rescued me. I know it’s just a matter of time before Smythe makes his next shipment.” Margery told him the name of the warehouse and the road it was on.

  Reed bowed his head. “That will aid the investigation greatly.”

  “Can you find Remy?” Margery rubbed her arms as a chill shook through her. “He was so nice.”

  “I’ll fly over the lake as soon as you and Carolyn are secure inside. Do not fear, though. I can be there and back in a matter of seconds. So can Champ—I have no doubt he’s fine, so don’t worry. You were never in any danger after the drakes were neutralized. Did they harm you?”

  Margery took a deep breath and relaxed at Reed’s reassurances. Of course Remy was fine—he was so much stronger than all the other studs combined. “I’m okay. I’m just tired and a little weak. But truly, I need to get to the bottom of this Smooshie problem once Remy comes back.”

  “I’ll send some agents over to question the men who held you prisoner and another team to investigate the warehouse where you were captured.” Reed reached into his pocket and frowned at his phone. “I don’t have a signal.”

  “There’s a satellite connection on Remy’s laptop. I managed to save it during the fight.”

  “First things first.” Carolyn stepped in. “You”—she pointed at Reed—“find Champ and bring him back here so we’re all on the same page. I’ll get Margery settled inside. You forget we’ve got another delegate coming in any minute. He’ll probably have a satellite phone that you can commandeer.”

  “I find it’s easier just to do as she says,” Reed said to Margery. He kissed Carolyn on the cheek then shifted back into his dragon form and took flight.

  Margery let Carolyn take control and watched as she got familiar with Remy’s surroundings then led her inside the house.

  “Normally, I’d recommend a nice hot bath, but we’re in a bit of a hurry, so jump in the shower. I’ll put on a pot of coffee and see if I can drum up breakfast.”

  Her whole being lit up. “Not coffee. Tea, please. Oh, do you think Remy has tea?” She’d kill for a cup of Earl Grey.

  Carolyn shrugged. “His mom is Scottish. They drink tea over there, right? I’ll see what I can find.”

  Margery bit her lip. “Do you know how to make tea?”

  “Duh,” Carolyn said. “Nuke a Lipton tea bag in the microwave.”

  Margery gasped so loud, she had a coughing f
it.

  “Oh, Nidhogg, are you all right? Should I call for Reed?”

  “No.” Margery shook her head. “I just need a minute.” She took a deep breath. “The tea in tea bags is usually not high quality. In most cases, it’s the tea dust that’s left behind from the processing of the leaves.”

  “So it’s crap?”

  Margery thought that might be a little harsh. But if the shoe fit… “Yes. I mean, comparatively speaking. Tea leaves taste so much better. But I shouldn’t be so picky.” Margery opened up a few cupboards and then sighed in relief when she saw that Remy did have all the makings of the perfect cuppa. She pulled out a kettle and filled it with water. It was one of the few things her English grandmother had taught her to enjoy before she died. Those moments of her childhood when she was with her grandmother were the happiest times of her life. She still missed her with an ache that never quite faded away. After her funeral, Margery was sent back to her mom and the revolving door of “uncles.”

  “I can do that,” Carolyn said as Margery put the kettle on the stove and turned on the burner.

  Margery showed her a plain white teapot and a canister of loose tea. “First, we need to pour boiling water in the pot to warm it.”

  “This sounds like it’s going to be complicated.” Carolyn crossed her arms and leaned against the refrigerator while she watched.

  “It’ll be worth it, trust me.” Margery shook the tin and then lifted the lid and offered it for Carolyn to smell.

  “That’s nice. It’s stronger than I’d expected.”

  “It’s an English breakfast tea. We’re going to drink this with milk and sugar once it’s done. But to prepare it, we’re going to put in a teaspoon for each of us.” Margery counted out four teaspoons. “And one more for the pot.” It was a nice, comforting ritual. Some of the stress in her neck and shoulders eased. She could almost believe things were back to normal. Well, as normal as a dragon who couldn’t fly or shift could get, she supposed.

  “Okay, okay,” Carolyn said. “Warm the pot. Scoop in the tea. And put more water in the pot. I think I can handle this. Why don’t you go take a shower?”

  “I’m sorry.” Margery slumped. “I’m so grateful to you. I don’t mean to be fussy.”