“No?”
“I really thought more of you would be here, but this works out better for me anyway.” She shrugs and stands up straighter, and it is only then that I notice the shadows gathering in one corner of the room. “It is you I came to speak with.”
“What do we have to speak about?”
“Your power. Your turn.” When I hiss, she shakes her head. “You misunderstand. I don’t want him. Too headstrong. He’s been under your care for far too long, and the trouble it would take to break him in for a new mistress is more than I care to deal with.”
“My power? You tried that.”
“Giving the vampires my blessing? Of course I did. They were all too weak. Too old. But it didn’t work with the young vampire, either. And then I worked out the missing link.”
“Missing link?”
“You.”
I frown. She isn’t quite right—at least, as far as we’ve concluded—but she is closer than she was before. She must also be out of young vampires by now.
“Grant’s abilities have nothing to do with me.”
“Of course they do.” Eirian’s lips curve up and she snaps her fingers. The puca that has been lurking in the corner shifts back into her human glamour, and of course she has hold of Rachel by the shoulders because there is nothing else that would make sense right now.
She glares at me, too. She likely knows the other puca killed by Grant and Quinn. Even should I do as Eirian wishes, I will not survive this encounter.
“You’re going to turn her,” Eirian says, and Rachel’s eyes flare wide. They have gagged her and tied her hands at the wrists in front of her body.
“I will not.”
Eirian frowns. Did she expect me to immediately agree? There was never a chance of that. “You will turn her, or your other turn will die.”
“You do not have him.” She cannot. Grant would have found a way to let me know, used the bond to let me know.
“I do not,” Eirian agrees. “But he is about to walk into a trap with two vampires. He might be able to withstand the sun, but he is still young and untrained, no?”
Young, perhaps. Untrained? Not entirely. Of course, I feel the grasp of fear that always accompanies any thought of Grant in danger, but it is easily brushed aside by the practical: Grant is with Asher and Quinn. The three of them can fight two vampireswith fae blessings—especially if Eirian has filled them to the brim the way she did with Harold.
“Do you want to know what happened to the other one?” I ask.
“The other one?”
“The vampire you gave your blessing to.”
Eirian glances at the broken window and huffs. “I do not have to ask, do I? He was weak, just like the rest.”
“And Jakob?”
“Was always going to die.” She walks over to the sofa and sits, crossing one leg over the other. The puca’s eyes follow her every movement, but they snap back to me when I shift my weight, and her grip tightens on Rachel’s upper arms. “He thought ruling with me meant ruling above me. As though a human would ever truly wear the crown.”
“He is a vampire.”
“And vampires were once human. You were, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So there is no difference for us. He is beneath us. Beneath me. He thought he might push me aside once we were on our thrones, as though the court would follow him should he somehow manage that.”
“The queen isn’t dead yet.” I need to buy time. Once it goes dark, I will have more ability to fight, if only because I will not have to worry about burning up should I step in the wrong place. The shadows are growing longer, but I am not certain I will be able to stall for long enough.
“Notyet,” Eirian agrees. “Which is why I have other avenues to explore should this experiment fail. My worry is not the princes. The rest of the court… They are either planning their takeover here or their takeover there.”
