I squeezed him tighter. His breath wheezed out. A smile claimed my cat-faced features, though it probably looked alarming instead of happy.
Ed hugged me back.
I wasn’t a hugger. I was pretty sure I had never hugged Ed. He was slight against my bigger mass. He was cold to the touch, so he hadn’t fed. And he was still mine. I felt the bond I had accidently created. He was my primo for real. Hugging him was like magnets clicking together. I felt more whole than I had in a long time. And I didn’t have time to think about that just now. I stepped slowly back and he mimicked my backward step until we were an arm’s length apart. “I got you bloody. Sorry.”
Behind me, the door to Molly’s room was yanked open. Moll stuck her head out. “The null prison is being attacked right now. It’s holding, but not for long. Can you escort us?”
“Yes,” I said.
Chaos erupted.
***
Three blocks out from the null prison, the place where all this started, the SUVs—and a new, bigger transport-van-style vehicle—were parked. The vamp and human team, led by Eli, spread silently into the dead foliage, visible on the tactical map on the screens, audible over the SUV’sspeakers and earbuds. Twelve of our finest. And I was here, this time, because that was what a warrior shapeshifting queen did, show up to a battle looking like a blood-soaked monster.
In our oversized, parked vehicle sat Molly and Evan Trueblood, with Liz and Cia Everhart and Koun squished into a bench seat behind them. Quint was in the driver’s seat, and I was riding shotgun, twisted in my seat so I could see the other passengers, my screens, and the street just by moving my head. The vehicle was totally tricked out and the screens were amazing.
We were staying out of the way as the crack teams infil’ed to do their jobs.
Quint eased our vehicle closer behind the one in front, giving us more protection from the scene several blocks down the street. We didn’t have to be close. We had overhead drones, vest cams, and screens and speakers on every row of seats in the SUVs, allowing us to watch everything here and also at the house where Soledad and Malita were being rescued. The plan was to bring everyone safely to HQ. But Eli couldn’t run two ops at once, and the one at the estate was being handled by the leader on scene.
“Two attacks at one time,” Koun said, his eyes watching the street around us and keeping in contact with the two guards near our vehicle. “Everything we have seen before was stage-setting and emplacement of resources. Tonight, I wager, the Heir is starting the main thrust of his plan to take over the city and you. And he may think you were weakened by the explosion in Barataria.”
“Yeah. I got that,” I said. “Imma behead the lil’ sucker.”
Koun smiled placidly. “Of course you are, My Queen.”
The Evarharts and Truebloods leaned forward, heads together to get a clearer view of the screens. We all were also watching the action in the middle of the street. Whatever they saw on their screen had Molly sticking her head out the window for a more personal view, her red hair caught in a whipping breeze I had hardly noticed. “Son of a death witch,” Molly whispered. Big Evan grabbed her hand in a warning gesture. That wasn’t something theyever said. Not since Molly’s death magics had appeared. But I could tell she and Evan had cast a working that let them see the energies being used in the street ahead, so there must be evidence of death magics.
The same three gramma witches—Ursula, Fiona, and Endora—were in the same circle, which the Everharts had hoped was closed, but they weren’t alone long. As we watched, inside the circle with them appeared Butterfly Lily and Feather Storm and Sabina—which meant Grandmother in her guise of the outclan priestess.
Koun swiveled his head and looked at me. My closest guards knew what had happened to the priestess, but we hadn’t told everyone. Into my mic, I said, “Yellowrock here. The woman who looks like Sabina is not. That woman stole Sabina’s flesh and wears it like a shape-changer. On my honor, that is not your priestess.”
“Check your thermal imaging,” Eli said. “She reads human. She isn’t Mithran.”
“Copy that,” Kojo said from the null house’s backyard.
“It’s possible that she can change into others,” Eli said. “Trust no shape.”
Someone said something in a language I didn’t know. Others of the guard muttered. A non-vamp had impersonated one of them, and I had a feeling they thought it was a witch, which could ignite the centuries long distrust between the races.
“She isn’t a witch either,” I said. “She’sother.”
The reaction among the vamps was odd, the sound of air as they breathed into their mics for no physical reason.
“What are they doing?” Thema asked, over comms. “It looks like magics.”
“It is,” I said. The witches were waving their arms in circles, twirling ugly green and orange energies tighter and tighter. I’d seen this before. The magics were tinged black at the edges, the black of a cave at midnight, the black of burned and smoking hell. This was death magic on steroids. Death magic tinged with demon power.
The Glob, forgotten in its padded pocket, heated through the padding. Hot. Too hot.
Molly leaned to me, her knuckles resting against mypelted jaw, and steadied my mic with her hand, pulling it to her mouth, saying, “Molly Everhart Trueblood speaking. We cast aseeingworking. It’s death magics and a lot more than that. That’s what death at the hands of a demon looks like. And since you vamps are dead, just the touch of that magic could destroy you.”
“Fangheads, fall back,” Eli said. “Cover the queen.”
The witches threw the augmented death magics at the prison wards. A boom rocked the air. The dead trees and shrubs shook, brown desiccated leaves falling.
“Retreat, retreat, retreat,” Koun said. “Fall back!”
