The Queen's Flight (Emerging Queens) (13 page)

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning, after a surprisingly sound sleep, Viola was seated on the stage in Cassandra’s receiving room on a pillow that was form-fitted to her ass. She should have been comfortable, but she wasn’t sure what to do with her legs. She’d had a really nice erotic dream about Sergei, too. She started to blush as the finer points of the dream came back to her. It was probably not a good idea to have those kinds of thoughts when she was under scrutiny. But it beat the nagging anxiety that he was in another cage being tortured to death. Squirming, she wondered how long she’d have to sit here before she could wander around and see if anyone knew how to contact him.

The other ten Queens looked more at ease than she did. One Queen from India seemed so comfortable in a yoga position that Viola attempted it. After a series of embarrassing cracks and almost tipping off-stage, she decided to try a different position. A Queen, almost as old as her mother, was double-jointed and sat with her knees together, her legs forming a W.

Viola was pretty sure if she chanced that, she’d drive her spine up through the top of her head. Stretching her legs out straight only worked for a little while before one fell asleep and she had to nondescriptly bang it on the floor to get the pins and needles out.

All the newbie Queens were perched like birds on a wire to observe how a Queen—Cassandra—ran a territory. So far, it sounded like a pain in the ass. But at least Merrick was allowed in the seated area. She was relieved to see him unharmed and gave him a quick wave before the Queens shook her heads at her.
Another faux pas.
She’d never get this shit straight.

Her father stood at Cassandra’s right hand, fetching food and drink before she could think to ask for it. Viola didn’t see the job fulfillment in that, but to each their own. After about two hours, she was ready to call up the Cult of Humanity and see if they wanted to rumble. Anything to break up the tedium.

Cassandra also liked to hear the sound of her own voice. Quite frankly, this would be a lot more tolerable if Viola knew if Sergei was alive, and if she had a pair of needles and a ball of yarn. But her proposed trip to the country market was vetoed by Cassandra’s entertainment committee. They’d be visiting the village this weekend. Viola wasn’t feeling up to putting on her diva shoes to make a fuss about it, so she rested and ate and came to terms that this was her life now. And to give Cassandra credit, no one had tried to kill her, which was a nice change of pace.

The stares of the studs made her uncomfortable.

She’d never felt like a piece of meat before, and it frightened her that she might be expected to sleep with this many men and have all their children. Panic tightened in her throat, but she felt a soothing calm from the weave and gazed down the line of the ten other Queens. She wasn’t alone. And she wouldn’t be forced.

“Now naturally, sisters, when the Conclave comes, if you have eggs or are pregnant, we will want to situate you in a larger, safe territory. So if any of you feel the need to commence your destiny, I will graciously allow any stud in my stable to get you started on your future.”

So much for that idea.

“Land is very important,” she continued. “Some say that the Queen controls the land, but it’s the opposite. There is magic in the soil and it will taint a Queen not strong enough to handle the memories that the blood has soaked into the ground.”

The heavy wooden doors shuddered.

“Was that a bomb?” a tough looking Queen, covered in piercing and tattoos, asked. Based on her accent, Viola pegged her as a New Yorker.

Viola shook her head. It wasn’t loud enough. She checked out the ceiling. Those stones would hurt if they came down. She didn’t want another building falling on her, so she got to her feet.

“It’s nothing, sisters. Sit,” Cassandra ordered. But the other Queens were standing.

This time an impact cracked the doors.

“Justice!” Cassandra growled, her voice amplified by the dragon bass as her skin flickered.

The other Queens had barely gotten off the stage before Cassandra transformed in a coiling green explosion. Her enormous mouth roared a challenge as the doors crashed open and smashed into Justice, who slid across the ballroom.

Sergei strode in after him and threw two handfuls of…something…at Cassandra. The objects rolled and came to rest at their feet.

Heads.

Human heads. Viola retched, this morning’s eggs and bacon wanting out, but she managed to grit her teeth and stop herself from doing a Technicolor yawn all over Cassandra’s nice receiving chamber.

“What is the meaning of this, Sergei?”

Viola looked up from the heads to see Cassandra’s gaze riveted on him. Jealousy coursed through her.
No way, sister. That one’s mine.

He was unharmed, dressed in his biker jacket and faded blue jeans. Launching herself at him, Viola was glad when his arms tightened around her.

“Those are the men who have been conspiring to capture another Queen so they could redo the curse,” he said to Cassandra, pointing with one hand at the heads, while his other arm kept Viola clamped to him.

The studs in the stands on each side of the room erupted with anger. Shouting was lost as some dragons changed form and roared challenges at each other. Chaos reigned as Cassandra barked orders.

“I’m so happy you’re all right,” Viola said. He was edging her toward the door, away from Cassandra’s stage and the studs fighting over who was more affronted that humans dared to capture a Queen.

“We need to get out of here,” he said, gathering Merrick up with a look. “Before all the posturing these studs are doing to impress the Queens turns deadly.”

“Wait!” Cassandra screeched over the din, and Sergei turned back slowly.

Justice crouched as if he was going to hurtle himself at Sergei.

Viola stepped in front of him. “Stand down, Justice. You are not allowed to harm my Protector.”

Silence again engulfed the court as the assembly gasped.

“You don’t give orders to my Protector,” Cassandra said in a deadly voice.

“I just did,” Viola said.

“How dare you,” Cassandra said. “I have welcomed you into my court and this is how you show fealty?”

She sounded just like her mother. No wonder her father stuck around. Well, she could either bow her head and go back to apologizing for her life, or Viola could take a stand. “I am a Queen,” Viola said. “I do not owe anyone fealty. None of us do.” She pointed to the other Queens, who were huddled together trying to put on a brave front. “We are not pawns on a chessboard. We do not owe anyone anything. We were shifted out of the blue. Yes, we’re a little confused and disoriented, but we’re up for the challenge. Right girls?” Viola fist pumped the air.

Heads nodded. “Right,” most of them said. They were still clustered in the corner, in human form, trying to be as inconspicuous as ten of the most valuable women in the dragon world could be.

“We all have stories,” one said, stepping out from the group. She had a Caribbean accent and her lilting tone reminded Viola of piña coladas. “We are not generic blow-up dolls to be passed around like party favors.”

Another Queen stepped forward. “A few weeks ago, I was an attorney in a law firm. I was going to be made a partner, and now I’m here. We might not be human anymore. But we have rights.”

Yet another Queen spoke something in rapid Japanese that had a few heads nodding in the stud section. She remained in the huddle and spoke deferentially.

Viola heard the words translated in her head, bathed in the blue weave she was beginning to recognize as the yin weave. When Merrick healed himself, the weave was red and masculine. This blue weave was more familiar. It was strong here, at the heart of Cassandra’s court, and she could touch it when she concentrated.

The Japanese Queen had said, “I had nothing. I was in debt. I rented an apartment with three other women. Now, I am strong. I will never go hungry to pay the electricity bill. We owe Cassandra much thanks for sheltering us. We need to show her the proper respect as she is our elder.”

“Who did you say your Protector is?” Cassandra asked Viola, ripping up the stage with her claws as she clenched and unclenched them.

“I am,” Sergei said, his voice ringing out into the awaiting silence of the court.

That started the growling and talking again.

“Impossible,” she hissed. “You said you would never serve in a court again.”

The studs in the peanut gallery watched the exchange like someone should be selling popcorn.

“I guess it took the right Queen,” he said. Viola noticed that he held himself very still. His tone was neutral, if not polite, and his trademark smirk was nowhere in appearance.

“I forbid you to leave this castle,” Cassandra snarled out.

“I have a previous commitment to obey Viola.” Sergei bowed and when his head was down, Viola caught a flash of something she couldn’t identify cross his face, but it was wiped clean when he looked back up.

“Viola, you are not permitted to leave.” Cassandra turned to her.

“What’s in it for me?” she asked with an apologetic shrug to the Japanese Queen. This Queen business had to have an upside, and this was probably it. No one was going to tell her what to do anymore.

“Insolence!” Cassandra shouted.

“I’ve actually got that in spades.” Viola drawled.

Sergei put a warning hand on her shoulder.

“Guards, bring me my wine,” Cassandra intoned and a wave of dread hit Viola as the weave reacted—both yin and yang—to her words. Viola stopped herself from wincing as his hand tightened. Sergei had said when Cassandra said, “bring me my wine,” it meant someone was going to bleed.

Viola cracked her knuckles. That bitch was going to get Viola’s tail upside her head if she thought Sergei was going to be bleeding for her.

Two dragons in their human form leapt from the peanut gallery and approached them. They were thugs in expensive suits. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out they were going to grab them and haul them into a dungeon or something. Viola wanted to shift or run, but Sergei’s hand held her firm. The thugs advanced until a whip-like appendage appeared from behind Sergei and struck first the one on the left, and then one on the right. It was his tail. Both men stiffened and dropped to the floor.

“Bravo, Sergei.” Cassandra smiled and her form shifted back to human. Just like that, the tension drifted from the room. “I had begun to wonder if she had neutered you.”

The other Queens regarded each other in confusion, but breathed a little easier now that no one seemed on the edge of an explosive confrontation. Viola stared at Sergei’s backside.

“How did you do that?” Viola whispered to him. The tail was gone as if it never existed. She risked a hand, tapping at his back. It seemed normal.

“Concentration,” he said out of the side of his mouth. “You shift only one part of your body.”

Viola gave a low whistle. She’d have to practice that. “Are they dead?” she pointed to the prone figures on the floor.

“Are they, Cassandra?” Sergei asked, raising his voice to be heard.

“You will address me as ‘my Queen,’” she said in a tone that would shatter glass.

“Are they?” he challenged.

Cassandra’s perfect bow mouth pursed as she considered. “Let your Queen with the large balls decide their fate.”

The blue weave whispered,
Let them live.

“Let them live,” Viola repeated, shivering a little at the creepy whisper. She agreed with the voice. The guards had only been following orders and no one got hurt—well except the studs. They were curled on the floor, foaming at the mouth and twitching as Sergei’s poison invaded their system.

Cassandra’s head tilted back as she laughed. “Such mercy. Get out of my sight. But do not leave the castle. You are expected at dinner.”

“Come on,” Viola said and hurried out of the ballroom.

As they were leaving, she heard Cassandra say, “Get this mess cleaned up. Justice, I require wine from you. Sergei is half your age and yet you were knocked across the room. Are you getting too old to serve?”

“Oh dear,” Viola said.

“Don’t cry for him.” Sergei guided her out of the doors he busted open and led her through several more elaborately decorated rooms. “The sadistic bastard painted my skin with his barbed tail many times. What the hell are you doing here anyway?”

“Merrick said you told him to take me somewhere safe,” Viola gasped out as the fast walk was leaving her breathless.

“The New York embassy would have fit that bill and been a hell of a lot closer,” Sergei growled.

“Yeah, well, he seemed to think this was more secure.” She waved her hand at the decorations. “Castle on top of a mountain and all.”

“That’s because he’s an idiot,” he spat out. “Where is your room?”

“It’s up these stairs.” Viola pointed up an elaborate staircase.

Sergei grunted. “You were put on the guest floor. I wonder if that’s because she’s out of rooms below the main level.”

“What’s below the main level?” Viola hustled up the stairs after him.

“That’s where the court stays. She probably put all the Queens up here until she decides which studs to give them to.” Sergei stalked up and down the hallway, looking side to side like he was searching for enemies.

“Don’t they get to choose?” Viola pushed open her door.

“As long as they don’t choose her favorites.” Following her into the room, he locked the door behind him. “I got your message that you were here and I came back for you.”

She hugged him tight. He’d come for her. “I was so worried about you. I saw the heads, but are you sure you’re not hurt?” She peeked inside his jacket to see if there was any blood on his shirt, but then she remembered that he flew all the way here and would have
magicked
it away.

“I’m a little sore from the bullets, but they weren’t prepared for Merrick taking down the majority of them. I got the leaders of the expedition. Hunted them down and took their heads. This was one splinter cell of the Cult of Humanity. Their base is in Esmeralda’s lands in Mexico. But don’t worry. The team that was after you is no more.”