Queen of Darkness Read online

  Again, delusion. She sighed. You seem to be working under a flawed premise I've meant to speak with you about for quite some time.

  Sorry? Where was the flaw exactly? It's not like they can really hurt me or anything. I'm immortal.

  Immortal, yes, she sent. But not invincible.

  Gulp. Explain?

  Immortality means you will live forever, and never grow old, she sent. As long as nothing happens to you.

  That sounded rather final for something I was given the impression would go on and on forever. Why was this the first time I was hearing this information?

  You can die, Sydlynn, she wrapped up her happy message. I'm just not sure how much it will take to kill you.

  Didn't really want to find out. It would have been nice to know this a while ago, I sent.

  She shrugged inside my mind. I assumed you knew.

  Way to make me feel like a total moron.

  Holy. Fear rose, bubbled, burst, choked me, drove me to my feet to pace. Charlotte startled, coming to me, but I waved her off, fighting the rush of panic this new bit of news rustled up.

  This changed my perspective. On everything. My memory went to the beach, to surfing, the wave.

  I could have drowned.

  The basement of the Brotherhood house, the scent of gasoline, the pressure of sorcery holding me down.

  I would have burned to death.

  Holy.

  Crap.

  I spun as Charlotte snarled, eyes going to the window, the brightening of the sky. But she wasn't focused on the newborn morning. Instead, she darted toward the bedroom door and flew inside, emerging a moment later with a small, shivering, silver-haired cherub in tow.

  Demetrius smiled at me, blue eyes full of innocence as she dumped him on the floor at my feet.

  “Sydlynn,” he said. “I'm so happy to see you again.”

  ***

  Chapter Twelve

  Charlotte looked ready for murder. Chances were she just needed someone to take out her nervous energy on. I was shocked she hadn’t killed him already, to be totally honest about it. As she glared down at him he continued to smile at me, sweet face as creepy as ever, especially knowing what madness lurked behind his gentle eyes.

  “Forgive me,” he said, shuffling forward on his hands and knees to bend over and press his forehead to the top of my foot. “I told you the truth when we last met, I swear it.” He looked up, a wide smile showing his perfect, even, white teeth, the scar marring his right cheek barely visible now he was human again and not in the demon form he’d been forced into. “You have an ally in Batsheva’s clan.”

  “You let them drug me again.” I stepped away from him, not wanting him to touch me. Charlotte took my disgust as permission to reach for him and jerk him to his feet, almost suspended from her hand as she hoisted him away from me.

  “I had no choice.” His words squeaked out past her grip on his throat. Probably not the best handle. I waved at her and, with a look of absolute disappointment, she let him go. He coughed a few times, still smiling. “But I knew you were stronger this time, gave them a weaker dose so some of your magic would remain.”

  Grumble, mumble. “What is it?” I shuddered inside at the emptiness he reminded me of.

  “Powdered crystal,” he said with a broad wink. “My own recipe. Gets into every cell, blocks off what it can’t siphon.” He hugged himself, rocking back and forth in clear delight. “Works very well, yes?”

  Still crazy. Cracked to the core. “You’re not seriously asking me to admire your handiwork?”

  Demetrius dropped his arms, the hurt on his face making him look vulnerable.

  “It only reached your surface magicks,” he said. “They thought it would take care of you completely. But I was careful.”

  Well, at least I had the vampire. She grunted agreement. So maybe I should cut him a little slack.

  “I’d say thanks,” I said, “but I’m still in this mess. No offense.”

  He reached for me before Charlotte could get another chokehold on him, but he just stroked my bare arm before backing off, smile returning.

  “It’s good, it’s very good.” He did a little hopping dance. “It’s all you need to do the deed.”

  “What deed?” Crackpot had a plan?

  “Why kill the old witch, of course, of course.” He laughed out loud, insanity showing behind the veneer of kindness in his vivid, child-like eyes. “You must kill Batsheva.”

  Hmm. Good plan. And already on the menu.

  “You can’t.” Charlotte’s voice growled with the undercurrent of her wolf.

  “She must.” Dominic hissed back, baring his teeth as if he were the feral one.

  She ignored him, faced me. “If you kill Batsheva, one of two things will happen.” She held up one hand, ticking off a raised finger. “Doing so with any of your magicks, even your vampire power, in an unprovoked attack means a death sentence.”

  Not on the roster now I knew dying was a possibility again. “And two?”

  “Even if you convince her to strike first, you’ll have to use your vampire magic to make the battle valid. Which means draining her of power.” She paused. “And blood.”

  Ickle to the power of infinity.

  “I guess I can do that,” I said. “If it’s my only option.” Syrupy blood, hot from the kill—

  Gag.

  “You don’t understand,” Charlotte said. “Doing so means you will be the new Queen.”

  Oh. Not so good an option.

  “So, you’re telling me, it’s basically a no-win here.” I turned away from both of them as Charlotte’s shoulders slumped. There had to be other choices.

  Had to be.

  “How did Batsheva defeat Yvette?” I turned as Charlotte spoke to find her shaking Demetrius by a strangle hold. Only his arm, this time. Even she knew holding him by the throat meant no answers to her questions, no matter how angry she felt. Especially because of how angry she felt.

  Demetrius tried to free himself, whining like a puppy until she released him. He scrambled back from her, rubbing his arm.

  “She has her ways,” I said even as Charlotte chewed her bottom lip.

  “I can’t believe it,” she said. “No one crossed Yvette Wilhelm. Even Odette was afraid of her.” The vampire Queen would have to have been very powerful to shake someone as arrogant as Odette Dumont.

  “And you know this how?” My wereguard shrugged, eyes flickering from wolf and back again.

  “Let’s just say my pack had run-ins with both vampire clans,” Charlotte said. “I was born and raised in Ukraine, but we had many dealings with covens and blood clans all over Europe thanks to Odette and her meddling with politics on the continent.”

  Why wasn’t I surprised a crafty old witch like the deceased Dumont sister didn’t cut her ties to the homeland when she brought her coven to the U.S.?

  “How did Batsheva beat Yvette if Charlotte is right?” I returned my focus to Demetrius in time to catch him sticking his tongue out at my bodywere before he answered.

  “She won the same way she does everything,” he said. “Cheater.”

  “How?” I put myself between them, knowing Charlotte would just demand when it seemed Demetrius required my trust.

  He bobbed his head, smile back. “She saved me,” he said. “Because she needed me.” From the trial. He would most likely have been put to death for his involvement in the High Council takeover and subsequent law-shattering behavior Batsheva implemented to destroy my mother and my family. “Took me here with her, when she begged the Queen to turn her. Offered her your essence.” A way in. Just like Batsheva to worm herself into a place of power. As horrible as she was, she had a knack for getting what she wanted.

  “The young one came too,” he went on. “And horse-face.”

  Celeste I knew about. But the young one? “Ameline?” Of course. She had to have been part of it. How else would she have had access to Piotr and Yvette’s vampires?

  He hissed, bu
t not at me. “Her,” he said. “Both of them, offering the Queen a different plan for you. But neither was going to give you up, oh no.” He cackled, wrung his hands. “Ameline lost, Batsheva won, Queen Yvette turned her personally.” Demetrius stressed the word like it was very important. “The moment she did, Batsheva went to work. Celeste first. Then undermining, undercutting, talking and bribing on and on.”

  Again, typical Batsheva. “And Ameline?” If I could somehow manage to get my hands on her too, a big number of my dangling issues could be wiped out forever.

  Leaving room for all the others. Shrug.

  “Gone,” he moaned, dashing my hopes. “Thick as two could be, yes, until Yvette chose and then the girl was no longer welcome.”

  Damn. Oh well.

  “Then Batsheva, she was ready, had enough support,” Demetrius said. “But not real support, bought, connived, stolen.”

  “Stolen?” I found myself frowning at the word. “What do you mean?”

  “She had help.” He pressed one finger to the side of his nose and winked, a demented fallen angel with a secret to share. “Big help, but the Queen, she didn’t know it. No one knew it. Only me. Me. Because I brought the help to her so long ago.”

  He leaned close, looked at Charlotte like she wasn’t worthy of knowing what he was about to tell me before his glistening blue eyes met mine again.

  “I was the one who introduced her to the Brotherhood,” he said.

  ***

  Chapter Thirteen

  In the moment it took me to understand just how deep Batsheva's evil ran, Demetrius plowed ahead as if he hadn't just dropped a magical nuke in my lap.

  “I helped her make a crystal of her very own.” He shook his head, tsking. “Foolish. She used it in secret to drain Yvette's magic while they fought.” Charlotte rumbled her unhappiness. Not that the vampire Queen was betrayed, I didn't think, but more so out of her inherent sense of fair play. “Batsheva defeated her, easy peasy lemon squeezy, then drained her dry. Slurp.”

  Bile was the worst taste ever. I just wished I had control over its rise.

  “Her crystal?” If I could get my hands on it... but no. Each one was keyed to the user. So no help there. But if I could somehow have mine brought to me, a whole bunch of new possibilities were available. That was, if it could break through the block from the powder. Though I had reason to believe that might be the case. After all, it allowed me access to my magic when I'd been magically smothered by the Brotherhood's sorcerous shields.

  Demetrius giggled on the edge of hysteria, pointing at me. “No good to her as a blood sucker anymore,” he said. “You breathed it in.”

  I could have done without that much information. Knowing something Batsheva used was inside me, devouring and blocking my power, made me want to turn my skin inside out and have a very, very hot shower.

  “And the familial clan?” Charlotte prodded him. “They just accepted Batsheva?”

  “Coerced,” he nodded, sadness pulling at his scar, a weepy cherub fallen too far for redemption. “So unhappy. But what could they do?”

  Charlotte's hands shook as she clenched them into fists at her sides. “Disgusting.”

  “You just described Batsheva,” I said. “And Celeste.”

  “That one.” Demetrius was suddenly a snapping animal full of venom and hate. “That one will die slowly and painfully and I will laugh, ho ho.”

  Creepy. But I just so happened to agree with the sentiment and, considering the ending my demon had planned for the woman, I didn't really have the right to judge.

  “Demetrius, why the Brotherhood?” Not good at all. “What do they get out of this?”

  “Power,” he said. “Control. Of course.”

  Of course. Ding ding, Syd. If they owned Batsheva, it meant they now owned one of the two most powerful blood clans in the world. And knowing the new vampire Queen Batsheva’s ambitions, she'd soon be the only leader with control over the majority of the vampire nation.

  Had to hand it to her. No matter how many times she tried and failed, she wasn't a quitter.

  I had so many questions, but it turned out they had to wait. The sun had fully risen at last and as someone knocked on the sitting room door, Demetrius dashed for the bedroom and out of sight.

  “Let him go,” I said to Charlotte as she turned to go after him. “He'll be back.”

  I didn't argue with her when she gestured for me to stay put when she went to answer the knock. A tall, broad shouldered man with a coarse mop of dark hair and empty brown eyes towered over my bodywere, ignoring her after a quick sneer of disgust before fixing his ugliness on me.

  “You will remain,” he grunted in a heavy accent sounding Austrian or German. Not like my German class helped much, but at least I recognized the harshness. With that he spun and slammed the door behind him.

  Rude. But then again, I felt a little sleepy, like the sun shining in on me, the touch of a beam's heat driving my eyes to close—

  Stop that. I jerked awake, annoyed to find I'd almost fallen asleep standing up.

  Sorry, my vampire sent. I've never had this much control before. And I usually nap on and off during the day while the others keep you occupied.

  No time to process that information, not at the sound of shouting outside my door and the dull thud of something or someone striking the heavy wood hard enough to crack it down the middle. The portal swung open, the big guard falling backward as Mom casually shoved him aside with a wall of magic and entered my prison like she owned the whole castle.

  I resisted running to hug her, only because she wasn't alone. Margaret Applegate tromped in behind her, casting an annoyed look at the guard who slowly pulled himself to his feet.

  “Manners,” she snapped. “Find some. Now get out.”

  He did as he was told, the door closing though a jagged crack ran the width of it, vibrating along the break as it thudded closed.

  I grinned at Mom. “That had to hurt.”

  “I certainly hope so.” She embraced me, no concern for appearances, so I hugged her back and tried not to let my tears get the better of me. I'd always accused her of being a supernatural faucet, but I was at least as bad.

  I was so happy to see her.

  Margaret didn't share our emotion. She swung one fist against her leg over and over, black robe gaping open, tweed suit and pantyhose showing through. The hole in her right stocking must have caused her no end of irritation, the run reaching the top of her very sensible shoes.

  Still, she was a witch and, so far, seemed to be on our side. So why was she looking at me like I was something unpleasant she had to take out to the trash?

  “Well, my girlio, you've put me in a pickle of a spot.”

  She called me what? “Coven leader.” Oops. I really, really didn't mean to be so cold in correcting her. But years spent watching Mom manage our family and those who came against us kicked in out of habit.

  Mom went rigid next to me. “Manners,” she said in her most imperious tone. “Find some.”

  I'd never thought of my mother as having a temper. She always played things so cool. Yes, if she was pushed, she was a banshee from the deepest bowls of Scaryland, but normally she preached politics and diplomacy.

  Which meant Margaret was already pissing her off and this was a last straw situation.

  Good to know the older woman didn't have my back after all.

  Margaret's eyes narrowed, but she nodded abruptly. “Coven leader,” she said in a voice of blades. “Maybe you can tell me what I'm supposed to do about this mess you've dropped on my doorstep?”

  Um, hello. “Excuse me,” I snapped. “Where exactly in any of this did you decide I was at fault?”

  Margaret's thumping fist came to a sudden stop. “I don't know how you Americans do things,” she shot back, “but in my territory we abide by treaties and laws and don't butt into the business of other races.” She snorted. “And we like it that way.”

  Oh, no she did not. “Right. So you'd rather
ignore what's going on under your nose in favor of tra-la-laing along. Like them invading our territory to kidnap me. How nice.”

  Mom's face was white, pinched as though she was thinking what I said out loud, but forced to hold it in for fear of exploding or destroying diplomatic channels. That was just fine. I'd long decided she was happy having me perform as her action hero, doing her dirty work when she was unable to take steps. I'd add mouthpiece to my list of duties.

  My pleasure.

  “At least my territory is secure,” she snapped back, magic cracking around her. “And not a continuing disaster crashing into an apocalypse.”

  Mom twitched, but I was faster. “I see.” I crossed my arms over my chest and smiled at Mom, though my humor was nowhere to be found, thanks. “So I guess that means you don't want to know what your particular brand of governing has allowed to happen. In your territory.”

  Mom's eyes narrowed as Margaret spluttered.

  “Whatever are you talking about?” I heard the girl at the end before Margaret caught herself. “Coven leader.”

  I filled them both in on what Demetrius told me while Mom nodded slowly and Margaret grew redder and redder in the face.

  “Can you trust him, Syd?” Mom's question was calm, reasonable. But her eyes were troubled.

  “Yes,” I said, without a doubt. “Absolutely. He wants Batsheva dead, M—Council Leader. And he wants me to kill her.”

  “All this Brotherhood nonsense.” Margaret dusted off the front of her robe as if doing so would erase what I just told her. “Nonsense.”

  Mom fixed her with that same cold stare. “Like it or not, we will be going to war,” she said. “The Brotherhood will give us no choice. But we can either allow it to happen to us, or take matters into our own hands before it's too late.”

  “And Demetrius hates the Brotherhood more than Batsheva,” I said. “So yes, Mom,” I was okay with the word, screw Margaret Applegate, “I trust him.”

  The portly leader looked like she was ready to argue again, but when she finally exhaled a heavy breath, there was worry on her face. “I'll look into it,” she said.