The door opened, and the scent of fresh shrimp seared with peppers and homemade bread hot from the oven filled the room. Quint carried in a tray over her head, like a waiter in a fine restaurant, and laid out my meal on the tinytable in the corner. It had drop-down sides, and when they were lifted, it could easily seat three. There was a pitcher of iced green tea with lots of lemon, a green salad, bacon-wrapped asparagus, a bottle of wine, which we both knew I wouldn’t appreciate, and the fabulous shrimp.
I placed my chair in the corner, kept the throwing knife in my lap, and sat. Quint watched my every move, and though there was no way she could have seen the small blade, I was pretty sure she knew it was in my lap. Out of the fixins, I put a po’boy together. Though the asparagus was an odd contribution, the bacon made it all work.
“So good,” I mumbled through a mouthful.
“Why did you open the door without checking if I was alone?” Quint asked. “You did the same thing at your house when Thema and I were together. Yet you sit with a throwing knife ready to defend against me.”
I chewed and swallowed. Took a sip of the lemon green tea. It was pretty good, for iced stuff. “I could smell food. And you. At the house, I could smell you and Thema. And I carry the knife because you’re a sociopath, and I’m not one hundred percent sure of you yet.” I shrugged.
Quint studied me, her body deceptively lax and loose. “Most people can’t tell that about me. My family doesn’t know. The only other person who knew is dead. How do you?”
“All animals know. It’s in your body language. Small things.” I didn’t offer to tell her what things, especially in light of theother person who knew is deadcomment. I was getting smarter in this world of bloodsuckers, other paras, and humans with issues.
Her expression didn’t change. She turned her back on me and looked at my closet. “Tonight you have a duello, which may not take place, though you will know soon. And after that, there may be executions. Or not. The prisoners at HQ might agree to go to new masters.” She shrugged. “Either way, you must be appropriately attired. Your scarlet armor has been cleaned and is airing out. I can have your black armor or the white armor sent over. But if you don’t like the idea of armor again, the black pants, scarlet crossover shirt, and black jacket would be acceptable. With the extra body mass, you no longer look weak anddefenseless. The business clothes give an aura of strength, as in, you’re so tough and well protected you don’t need armor.”
“Fine. In which case, you can stand in front of me and take any shots,” I joked.
“Of course,” Quint said, as if it went without saying. “I’ll have your black dancing shoes sent over. Your extra weight doesn’t appear to have affected your height or shoe size.” She pulled the items out of my closet and hung them on a rack she suspended from the closet door top. “What are you going to do with your hair?”
“Something basic. Tight braid. Tied in a fighting queue at my nape in case I have to armor up after all. I’ll do it and my makeup myself.” I didn’t want her touching my hair again. I pushed away from the table. “Take the tray. Be back in twenty, armored and armed.”
“Of course,” she said again. Quint stopped. “Your sense of smell is much better than human, even in human form?”
“Yes.”
“Can you smell sickness? Emotions?”
“In Beast form and half-form, yes. Not so well in this form.”
“I see.” She left the room as she came in, tray up high.
When she was gone, I let out the breath I had been holding. Quint was a seriously scary woman. Beast purred deep inside.Good predator woman.
Yeah. She is.
***
“The Sangre Duello will take place as arranged in parley,” Bruiser said softly.
“Why?” I asked, my question serious. “They attacked us. Multiple times. Why should we give them opportunity again?”
“Because if there is no official duel, they will continue to attack us, killing our people. If Koun wins, they will likely use treachery, attack after the duel, and then we can destroy all your enemies, who will be gathered in one place. There will be an end to it. If Koun loses, we can use parley and protect our people. Again, there will be an end to it.” He smiled at my expression. “The Dark Queen’s honor will not be besmirched. I promise. Our people have parleyed the details and announced them to the world.”
“Treachery can work both ways,” I said.
Bruiser smiled slowly. “Yes. It can. We will be ready. We will be on our home grounds.”
Eli, at my side in a rolling chair, said, “We got this, babe.”
I sighed and blew out a breath. I kicked off the dancing shoes Quint had messengered over from my home and put my feet up on the big table in the security room, the massive screens overhead. “I’m listening.”
“A swordsman named Dovic, no last name, or perhaps no first name,” Bruiser said, “is to be Koun’s opponent.”
Alex, sitting at the main comms station, said, “Dovic is legendary in vamp sword fights. He always fights to the death, no first-blood matches, no tourneys. He’s an all-or-nothing kinda guy.” He pointed overhead. “Watch.”
On the center overhead screen, I watched Dovic fight. Though there were multiple duels, watching them didn’t take long. Each ended with Dovic’s opponent beheaded in record time. The longest duel was forty seconds. His use and competency with a multitude of weapons was impressive, the fights I viewed involved: two flat Spanish dueling swords (one short, one long), three different weights of cutlasses, axes, hatchets, a dueling pistol and a sword brandished together, a ball-peen hammer and a switchblade, a dull pencil and a butcher knife, and a silver vamp-killer and fillet knife. No matter what weapon or combo of weapons was chosen by his opponent, he won. Even for a vamp, he was freaky fast.
Dovic was blond, blue-eyed, and scarred, including a deep, puckered scar from his right eye, across his cheek, to his chin, which meant he had fought when he was human too. As I watched the matches, I also watched Koun, sitting on the far side of the large conference table, a delicate cup of tea at his elbow, both hands slowly and lovingly cleaning his swords. They were the kind of dueling swords used in the Mithran version of the Spanish sword fighting method known as La Destreza Verdadera, also known as the Spanish Circle, or the cage of death.
