“Wrassler,” I said, “we need a quick security meeting ASAP. Extra guards on the grounds. Deon, if it’s your shift in the kitchen, I amdyingfor a real New Orleans fried shrimp po’boy and a good local beer.”
“You got it, Queenie,” Deon said, his island accent deliberately stronger. “One of the best po’boys ever made will be delivered to wherever you are in twenty minutes.” He looked around and put a hand on a hip. “And heavy hors d’oeuvres will follow for everyone else. We have been cooking...food... alllll day. Bismark and Coco? To the kitchens, ladies.” He snapped his fingers, both hands, the sounds sharp as blades clicking. “We have a feast to get out.”
I smiled when Deon winked at me and sashayed away. Two men followed him, and I had a feeling that Deon was making new friends. That was good.
“That’s all, folks,” I said. “Ummm. As you were? And all that stuff? And maybe someone should open the bar? I see you got all dressed up for this, sooo... let’s have a party?” That felt right. I raised my voice,“Laissez les bon temps rouler, people. Turn up the music and let’s dance!”
And with that, the energies fell. Thegatherreleased its hold on all of us.
I tucked the Glob into the gobag and turned to Koun. “Toss the body into a cage in the scion room, quick update and debrief in the security room.” I pointed at the mess on the floor below her body bag. “You might want to call housekeeping for a cleanup. She’s leaking. Then let’s join the party.”
Koun had a strange spark in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen before. Softly, he said, “AsMy Queencommands.” It was an unusual emphasis on the words, but not something that seemed to matter to anyone but him.
CHAPTER 7
Leo Had Been Playing the Long Game
The music pumped through HQ’s speakers, starting off with NOLA favorites, the Neville Brothers, homegrown musical heroes. It was good music, even when Eli turned the volume down for the quick security briefing. He gave an update on what we were facing and the security changes expected for the upcoming wedding. I got a chance to hug Wrassler in congratulations of his nuptials, and though I wasn’t a good hugger, he was. Bone-cracking good.
When the meeting was over, I let Eli help me off with my weapons—because a queen never did that sort of thing alone—and I was ready, way more ready than I even knew, to party.
While I was still being deweaponed, Deon entered with a wooden tray covered with newspaper and brown paper napkins. As if it was an offering to a queen, I sat and accepted the po’boy and a beer. I bit in. Flavor flooded my mouth, spicy, greasy, shrimpy, the best spicy mayo, and—oh my gosh—Louisiana had thebest foodever. I was in love. I chewed and swallowed and ate some more. After months of worry and uncertainty, I began to relax. Eliturned up the volume, the music going louder, thrumming through me as I ate the entire po’boy and finished off the beer before wiping my hands on the warm damp towel Deon offered me. I stood, grabbed Deon, and kissed the top of his head. “Dude, that was a tiny bit of heaven.”
“I live to make you food,” he said, his face soft and full of joy. “I’ll make you another. You’re too skinny.” He started to leave, and Joe Bonamassa riffs slammed through the speakers so loud that they vibrated the walls. Deon stopped and looked back at me. “Wanna dance?” His hips shot to the left and he spun, one hand out.
Without looking back at Eli and Bruiser, I said, “Ialwayswanna dance.” I took his hand and thrust my hip forward, dropping it twice, belly dance moves I had practiced often while trying to control my shifting, hoping that physical activity would help my lack of control. It hadn’t. Dance was just for fun, it seemed. I danced after him, letting him lead me out of security and down the hallway, toward the party, and also toward the kitchens, where he left me with a kiss on the back of my hand before wrapping my fingers around a fresh beer.
I drank the beer and wandered into the crowd in the ballroom. Alcohol did nothing to or for me, most of it cleared out of my system by skinwalker energies, but dancing? Dancing did what beer never could. Dancing freed me.
Imoved, my whole body like a snake on steroids. I had missed this, the roar of voices, the smells of food and party. I was dressed for travel, not dancing, and at some point in the next few hours, I removed and lost my denim jacket and my boots. I ate another sandwich. Or three. I drank another beer or three. I danced until the misery was gone, boogying to Roddy Rockwell, gliding to the raw tones of Joe B. and Beth Hart. People were dancing in the hallways, the foyer, the reception rooms, the gym, everywhere I went. I danced with multiple partners in small groups, in big groups, with Ming and then with Bettina, with Wrassler and Jodi; the man had eyes only for the woman he loved, and Jodi was glowing. I even danced with Derek, mostly by yanking him into a Latin beat—and that man couldmove. And I danced alone.
Mostly, Idanced.
I caught sight of Eli and Bruiser from time to time, checking to see that I was safe. Other times, a security guy would wander past, smiling and nodding, keeping an eye on Queenie. It was cute, since in half-form, I was pretty sure I could take them all. Of course, in human form I was too tall, too skinny, and had too few muscles to fight fairly and probably would have to resort to sneak attacks.
Arms over my head, doing chest lifts and hip figure eights, I danced into the scion room to check on the dead body of Monique Giovanni on the floor of the silver cage. Dead. Deader than dead. I danced into Leo’s office, which was empty. Not something I needed or wanted to see or think about. I danced into the reception room and ate some smoked salmon on toast points. When I was sweaty and tired, my legs quivering with fatigue, my muscles loose and exhausted, I danced back into the security room and up to Bruiser, my arms up, my hips popping and swirling, my spine and belly a continuous roll up and down. He was sitting in a swivel chair, his beautiful hands curled on the arms. I took his left hand and pulled him upright and close.
“Dance with me, Consort,” I murmured into his ear.
His arms went around me, pulling my own hands back behind me in a move from a tango.
“As My Queen commands. As my only love demands.” He drew me close, and his free hand splayed across my spine, pulling me against his hips. He was aroused, pressing into my belly.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Together we danced out the door. My eyes closed, feeling the beat of the music, the demand of the rhythm. Bruiser’s lips touched mine. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him tight to me.
Somehow we ended up at the lower entrance. And inside a limo. Hands and arms and bare feet and tongues and naked flesh. And then we were in the freebie house, wrapped in a blanket I didn’t remember seeing and inside my bedroom, the door locked behind us.
We fell on the rug beside the bed, a new rug I didn’t remember, the pile so deep it was a pillow.
Mate,Beast thought. She pulled Bruiser’s Onorio magic out of him and into us, a sex magic that smelled of jasmineand oranges and cloves. It quivered through me, through us, and lit up the world.
And Bruiser was inside me. And the world outside of us disappeared.
***
I woke around five a.m., in the bed, after a too short nap. Oddly, I was still human shaped, which made this the longest time I had been human in quite a while. Six hours? That was excellent. I was alone. Sated. Satisfied. Hungry. The crown was loose, thank goodness. I rubbed the bruises on my skull from sleeping in it. Rain was a soft patter on the windows, and it was still very dark out, the rain and heavy clouds holding off the dawn.
