by Faith Hunter
Which was exactly what I had figured. Still, hearing it spoken in Soul’s not-quite-human tones was a shock. Fear crawled up my spine on tiny clawed feet. “So no bargain. Tell you what,” I said, thoughtfully. “I’ll take you to the rift, but not until the Flayer of Mithrans is dead.”
“I cannot command the others. I am not their empress.”
Something about that pinged on my subconscious, but nothing swam to the surface. So I went on the offensive, just a little. “You and the arcenciels owe me. No matter what you say, your kind are foresworn. And so are you personally. You gave your word. You may have done the best you could, but your best . . .” Not sucked. That was too emotionally charged. The right word eluded me for a moment. “Your best was insufficient to repay the boon you owe me personally and the contract agreed upon—that the arcenciels would help Leo in the Sangre Duello.”
The pool was no longer icy. In the moments I’d been negotiating, the small pool had begun to churn and steam. To bubble. To simmer. Soul was either mad or excited. Maybe both. Her emotional state was heating the water.
Soul said, “I, perhaps, can get Opal, Cerulean, and Pearl to assist. The others are unlikely to fight for you.”
Four dragons. If she followed through, that might be enough. And then other possibilities popped into my brain. “The arcenciels you named already owe me personally,” I said, not adding that I’d have to find the rainbow dragons first. “You’re bringing nothing to the table.” I leaned closer to the water. “This is what I want in return for taking you to the rift. I want eight dragons, you and seven others, to stand with me and to fight the Flayer of Mithrans and his vampires and allies. To find and free the witches caught in the wheel of time spell. And I want all the arcenciels to agree to give me the time to kill him. In addition, I want all arcenciels to agree to leave the vampire timelines untouched. To leave the vampires alive and in place from conception through history. To leave the bloodline intact and in place from Adam and Eve, or his and her equivalent, through now. To leave all the paranormal bloodlines in place, untouched, alive.” That was pretty broad and very narrow at the same time. I hoped I had made it tortuous enough.
“I cannot promise eight of my kind.”
I raised my eyebrows, wishing for the ability to lift only one in that snide, slightly insulting manner that Leo’d had. “I’m listening.”
“The four. Perhaps. And if the Flayer of Mithrans dies before actual battle?” she asked.
“If the Flayer dies without them fighting and with his bloodline, timeline, and historical line untouched, then all debts will be paid.”
“I can agree in theory.”
“Not good enough.”
Soul splashed the steaming water. Fins and silver hair caught the cloud-gray light. Steam made little balloons of pale mist, puffing high into the air and hovering over the water. “There is one problem to all you ask. I can no longer access my dragon form.” She laughed sadly at whatever she saw on my face. “I have been punished for changing the timelines when Leo was at Sangre Duello and his head flew from his body. I am stuck in human and mer-form and cannot shift into my dragon. I can bargain back for my true form if I have access to a rift. Which you are hiding from us, the dragons of rainbows and air, who own all rifts.”
“Your kind doesn’t own the rifts,” I said, my brain trying to find the point that was still eluding me. “You didn’t make them. The rifts simply are.”
“I am under attack for not letting my sisters go back in time to destroy all vampires,” she hissed, fury rising, the water simmering harder, steam rising from the pool in heavy clouds. “Only the Mercy Blades, eleven in all the world, have kept their word to the Mithrans, have backed me against my own kind.”
“And if you get access to a rift?” It came to me. “You’ll jump through and be gone, and our bargain will be trashed.”
Soul narrowed her eyes at me like a ticked-off mermaid. “Yes. It means I may be pulled through to another world and leave you alone to finish the fight with the Flayer of Mithrans. Rifts are dangerous,” she repeated.
“And if you fall through, the other arcenciels will go back in time and kill the SODs before they’re even born.”
“Killing the Sons of Darkness before they are born has been a potentiality since you were crowned with le breloque.” Her tone was sour, bitter as wormwood.
Empress, Beast thought at me. Soul is not the empress of the arcenciels. Jane has crown.
It hit me, like being slapped with the fin of a bathing dragon. Beast was right. I had le breloque. I was empress of the vamps and, with the corona, I was also the Dark Queen. The arcenciels wanted the crown. They wanted a lot from me and I held the royal flush—the corona. Before I had time to reconsider, I took a big honking chance and said, “You help me with the Flayer of Mithrans or you get nothing from me. The holder of le breloque, the Dark Queen of the Mithrans, no longer negotiates with the people of the rainbow dragons. The beings worshipped as gods by the People of the Straight Ways have been foresworn too many times.” I lifted my jaw into the air. “I’ve told you what I want. Take it or leave it.”
Soul spread her mouth wide. Her predator teeth flashed at me. She lunged from the heated pool, mouth open wide. I ducked and slipped on the icy ground. Rolled to my backside hard, back to my knees, through the snow. Not fast enough.
Her teeth tore through my shoulder, ripping my clothes and taking off a layer of flesh and muscle. Blood pulsed into the air, scarlet and shocking against the sea of white and grays and blacks of snowfall. Soul reared back, a cobra position, flared and violent.
She took two rounds to her torso, kill shots had she been human. The shots echoed in the trees as she flipped in midair and arced back into the water with a gigantic splash. The water churned white and red and the bloody pink of diluted blood, changing quickly to blue, to black, and back to the murky brownish green of the creek. She vanished beneath the surface. I fell to my knees, ears deaf.
Stunned, I slapped my pawed hand over my wound and said, “What the . . . She bit me!”
“Jane!”
“I’m okay,” I whispered, lying, as pain blasted through me. A chunk of flesh was actually missing, the wound so wide and deep I couldn’t cover it with my good hand to apply pressure. The teeth had torn through arteries, nerves, bitten muscle away. My blood was pumping fast, saturating my clothing, drenching the snow around me. The pain grew, a gnawing electric agony. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move my fingers or hand. Arcenciel bites were poisonous. And psychoactive. And it looked as if regicide was commonplace in arcenciel circles. “I have to shift.”
“Yeah. Fast.” Eli raced through the trees as blood pulsed through my grip. “Why did she bite you?” he asked as he reached me.
“I made the mistake of acknowledging I was her queen. I don’t think I was supposed to know that and I think it pissed her off.”
“That looks painful,” a woman’s voice said.
Eli targeted the woman faster than I could focus. Liz Everhart stood in the trees, dressed in blue snow-ski gear, cross-country skis on her feet, her scarlet hair partially hidden under a hat the same blue color. “Easy there, big boy. I’d hate to bury you. Again.”
Big boy? Again?
Eli scowled at her, but my half-cat nose picked up a scent from Eli’s skin, strong even over the smell of my blood. He set his weapon down and pulled medical gear from his pockets.
Eli wants witch woman, Beast thought at me. Mate for Eli?
Hey. I’m dying here, I thought at her, just as I fell forward and my head bounced on the snow.
Eli caught me, too late, demanding, “Shift. Shift now.”
“At least I’m not wearing boots,” I said. Or tried to. The world telescoped down to pinpoints of light. And Beast tore through me.
* * *
* * *
Beast sat while Eli pulled Jane clothes off.
Flicked ear tabs as Eli and witchy Liz talked. “I’ve never seen a skinwalker shift. That was pretty amazing.”
Eli grunted, eyes alert, searching sky and trees like prey, his white-man gun in his hand. One-handed, he peeled Jane bra off Beast front legs. Was much blood in Jane clothes.
Liz witch slid through snow on flat boards. Looked like play. Wondered if Jane could play on flat boards. Wondered if Liz witch would let Beast chase her on flat boards. Wondered what Liz witch tasted like. Then saw shield around Liz witch. Beast could not get through shield, even with killing teeth.
“What bit her? I saw what looked like a shark, but I’m pretty sure we’re a little far inland for a shark.”
Eli paused. “I assume, since you saw that thing, and you’re still here, that you’re under a hedge.”
“I’m not stupid, Ranger man.”
Ranger man was Jane name for Eli. Was strange to hear witch say it.
Eli grunted again and scratched Beast ears. Beast leaned into Eli fingers.
“Are you still pissed because I dumped snow on you? Because if you’re nice, I might offer to share my shield. I’m sweet that way.”
Eli pushed Beast head away and rolled up Jane clothes. Beast stepped to side and watched Eli and witch. Wanted meat. Remembered deer tracks on other side of pool of water. But pool of water had teeth-fish-Soul in it. Was kit mistake to jump across pool of water to other side and be ambush attacked from below water. Beast sat back down. Chuffed at Eli.
“Hungry?” he asked Beast.
“Starving. There’s a good barbeque joint or three in town. Are you asking me on a date?” Liz smelled of laughter and happiness and mating interest. Beast again curled thick tail around paws for warmth, and watched.
“No. There will be no dating.”
Eli lied. Beast did not like lie. Lie was confusing, to say one thing when another thing was true. Eli wanted to eat meat with Liz. Eating meat was part of Puma concolor mating. Was part of human mating too.
Liz laughed. “Liar. You like me. Admit it.”
Eli smelled of laugh but frowned hard instead.
“Your brother said you have a type. A little dangerous and a lot self-sufficient. I have a type too. I like honest men who like to laugh and who aren’t scared of me. When you decide you’re ready to stop lying, stop scowling, and pull up your big-boy panties instead of cowering in fear of witchy me, give me a call.”
Beast chuffed softly. Liked Liz witch. Witch gripped poles and slid through snow.
“Wait,” Eli said. Liz stopped. Tilted head like cat, curious.
Beast sniffed air. Was mating on air. Human mating was better than food.
“The thing in the water was Soul. I might have just killed the assistant director of PsyLED.”
“That would suck,” Liz said, her tones saying she was laughing and speaking lie. Beast did not understand why Liz witch would laugh and lie.
Eli made sound of amusement that was . . . cat-snide. Like cat laughter when cat pushed dog off rocks into mud. “And beside that whole ‘might spend my life in jail for killing the assistant director of PsyLED’ thing, I just got out of a good relationship with someone I liked. A lot.”
“Got out? You broke up with her? Why?”
“She’d get something in her head and she’d keep pushing. And pushing.” Eli stood and touched Beast head. Beast rubbed head into Eli hand.
“What was she pushing for?”
“For me to go on a cruise with her. I hate boats.”
Beast rubbed head back into Eli hand. Ears itched. Witch said nothing. Just watched Beast and Eli and scratching ears.
“I hate being on the ocean,” Eli said.
“Hmmm. Scared?”
“Seasick.”
Word was hissing like snake.
Liz witch laughed. Laugh was low, like purr, and Eli body reacted again. Beast looked from Eli to witch. “You ever tell her that?” she asked.
“She never asked. But she wanted to live on a boat when she retired from the force. Kept pushing that too. Communication is a two-way street and she didn’t care enough to ask, so I never volunteered.”
“Passive-aggressive. Childish.”
“No argument. I was.”
Liz witch spun stick in snow, making it seem to dance. “So what do you want, if not to live on a boat after retirement?”
“A family. Kids. A home. White-picket-fence kinda thing. A woman who likes guns. A woman who’s independent. “
“Having babies was a little faster than I intended to go, but since we’re there already . . . Guns don’t bother me but I don’t like ’em much. They’re unreliable. They jam. They can be stolen and used against me or against others. Guns need ammo to work. I prefer magic. I’m a stone witch. We don’t do well around salt water so cruises are out. I like mountains, but I’m fine with flat land as long as I can bring rocks with me. I like kids well enough but I don’t intend to raise ’em alone. I want a man who does diapers and dishes. And the house has to be stone-clad, not brick or that vinyl stuff. Don’t need a picket fence because my wards are better than any ol’ fence. Oh. And while I don’t like making love in the dunes, I do like piña coladas and getting caught in the rain.”
Eli didn’t answer but fingers stopped scratching. Felt tension course through Eli body like chasing rabbits.
“Song lyrics from the eighties,” witch said, eyes on Eli.
“Nineteen seventy-nine. Not the eighties.”
“Whatever. Before I was born. Make you a deal. You don’t like something I do, you tell me. I don’t like something you do, I’ll tell you. In between you make me steak and a salad and we’ll talk.”
“Jane’s facing a war. I don’t have time to chase women.”
Witch laughed again. “Chicken.” Her feet made shushing noises on boards as she moved toward inn. Over shoulder, witch said, “Watch out for snowdrifts over your head, big boy.” Witch moved back to house.
Eli said mating word. Beast did not understand. Eli wanted to mate. Talked of mating. Yet did not chase mate. Humans were silly kits. Beast stepped away and pawpawpawed to stream bank. Dropped belly to ground and belly-crawled to look over pool of water, belly in snow. Water was no longer making steam. Was no longer bloody. Soul was sitting on tree over pool. Was wearing thin human clothes. Was not wet. Soul wore strange jewelry on leg. Dragon looked at Beast and covered jewelry with dress. Said nothing.
Eli moved up to Beast and nodded to Soul. “I see you survived the shots.”
Soul looked away. Nodded.
“You want to tell me why you bit Jane? If you had been in your dragon form, you’d have killed her.”
Soul looked frustrated, like a juvenile kit that tried to take large prey and failed. “I’m not always the same person when I shift shape. My brain works different, I think different, I feel different, I perceive enemies differently.” She shook her head, face in a snarl. Looked at Beast. “I beg forgiveness.”
Beast does not forgive. Beast kills enemies. Beast snarled at her, showing killing teeth.
“I’ll be up to the house when Jane shifts back,” she said.
“To talk to the holder of le breloque?” he asked. “The one you just tried to kill to get the crown? I don’t think so. If I knew how to kill you, you’d be dead.”
Soul laughed, sound angry and dull and wrong. “I am well aware of your desire to kill me, Eli Younger, but I am now in control of my former murderous tendencies. That said, I’d kill every human and para for twenty miles if it meant averting a war.”
“War?”
Soul did not answer. Asked instead, “Are you going to talk to the pretty witch?”
Eli did not answer, but body smelled frustrated. Angry.
Beast did not understand “not answer.” Was confused.
Soul sighed. Smelled fishy and bloody and not human. “I
won’t try to take the crown again. But you let that witch get away and you’re dumber than you look.”
Beast wondered if water drops in soul home showed what would happen if Eli did not mate with witch. Wondered if Soul was pushing Eli to one place in future.
Eli blew air through nose. “Stay away from my partner. Come on, Janie. Let’s get you a steak.”
Am Beast. Not Jane. But followed Eli to eat dead cow.
* * *
* * *
I shifted back to Jane in the shower and woke lying on the chilly tile, thinking over Beast’s thoughts and concerns, and worried about Soul’s attack. It was out of character and it didn’t make sense in any way. I wasn’t sure how to address the attack or if I should even try. I had a hard time letting things ride, but this seemed like one of those times when I needed more info and intel before I jumped in trying to fix it all. Soul had some seriously big teeth and I had a feeling that I might not survive being bitten again. My scarlet leather jacket was ruined. Fortunately I still had a box of new military-style armor Eli had ordered.
After I rubbed the CBD oil over my belly and dressed, I went looking for Bruiser. Merlin had changed the music on the sound system; Chris Stapleton was crooning “Tennessee Whiskey” through the speakers. It was soothing music, not martial enough to plan a war.
Bruiser was sitting at the bar, a cut-crystal glass half-filled with amber liquid in one hand. He smelled of tension and frustration and shame. He had just bound a human to himself with his Onorio magic and he hated it. Likely hated himself. I slipped up behind him and slid my arms around him. Rested my head on his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you did that for me. I’m sorry I’ve made our lives so difficult.”
“Leo. Leo set all this in motion. Not you. You’re keeping us alive and free.”
I said nothing. We were alone in the kitchen, dim lights under the cabinets giving a faint light.
