I waited. The security crew waited. Blood dripped.
“My Queen,” Sarah said, sounding pissed off. “She vanished into thin air.”
Crap. “That’s what I figured.” Ka had timewalked from here to the lair and had taken Monique. There were again, two of the needed Onorios for the Rule of Three for whatever Onorio magic thingy they had planned. All they needed was Bruiser or one of the B-twins. “No one’s fault. She used magic. Think of it like aStar Trektransporter.” Because no way was I announcing to the entire security team about timewalking. “Ka isn’t here. Institute internal electronic search, just in case, and check the cameras on the street outside to see if she reappeared there. We need to deal with traitors before I do anything else.”
I wiped the blade of my vamp-killer on an upholstered stool in the corner and sheathed it. When I looked up, Aya’s eyes were tracking from me to Quint to the bodies and heads. His expression changed from security to law enforcement and back, leaving him looking weirdly indecisive.
“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 humansworking 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 movieJaws: “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 swordtraining 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 softshushof 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.
