The Last Queen

by Christine McKay

  Why wouldn’t he touch her like he had last night?

  She gritted her teeth. She wouldn’t ask. She wouldn’t make the first move. Maybe last night had been a fluke. They’d both been caught up in each other’s emotions.

  “You have a beautiful planet,” Altarre offered when the silence became too much to bear.

  “Will you really let me stay here?” Adrianne glanced out the window. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

  Altarre was quiet for a moment. “Ours is destroyed, Dragoness. We have no home but the craft and even it has grown weary of traveling.”

  “I hope you are not pinning all your hopes and dreams on me.”

  Navarre shifted beside her. “We have none without you.”

  “That’s a poor backup plan,” she crabbed. Couldn’t he let her have a reprieve from her new melodramatic responsibilities for even one moment? Their extinction wasn’t her fault. Altarre was more sympathetic. “It is a great pressure we put on you?”

  She wanted to shoot back with a sarcastic comment, but she saw sincerity in his gaze. “Yes,” she whispered. She looked away. She couldn’t stand the sympathy any more than the overload of responsibility.

  Navarre tapped the clenched fist on her knee. She kept her gaze focused straight ahead. Altarre is an empath. He can read your emotions.

  She swung on him, teeth bared. He met her gaze with his expressionless mask. You can’t just pop into my head without asking permission first!

  Forgive me. I only wished to explain. His mental presence withdrew, leaving her yearning for it even more. And despising herself for wanting him so badly.

  “Can you hear what each other say in mind speech?” she asked Altarre.

  “I can tell you are speaking, but beyond that, no, not unless I am invited or forced myself in. That would be a breech of etiquette.”

  “Oh. Good.” Ah, common courtesy existed within the Dragoon’s social structure. Like saying “Bless you” after someone sneezed. She wondered just how many of them abided by the “laws” of courtesy.

  Why won’t you touch me? she asked finally, afraid to meet Navarre’s gaze.

  I should not take liberties with my Queen. You need to be able to objectively choose a mate when the time comes.

  Aha, Altarre and Quince were the dampening factor. You want me, she persisted.

  You have a mate, this Doug, he shot back.

  Did she detect a note of hurt in his mental voice? She discreetly reached for his hand, but he withdrew it.

  “Do you find us so repulsive that the idea of mating disgusts you? Or do you have another aversion to helping us?” Altarre asked.

  Beside her, Navarre went rigid.

  “What? No. You’ve kind of overwhelmed me.” And given her no chance alone to think things through.

  “We have waited so long.” Altarre’s voice was wistful, low and throaty, with an accent that turned her insides to mush. She wanted to curse them all.

  “Centuries,” Navarre added. Were we fools to wait so long?

  I can’t think with you dropping comments into my head. She aimed a venomous look, expecting him to be watching for her reaction, but he kept his face turned away from her.

  “Almost home,” Nikki called out cheerfully, and a trifle anxious. She’d been half listening to the conversation going on in the backseat.

  Adrianne’s frustration reached a fevered pitch. Her head ached from trying to tuck back her thoughts and guess just what Navarre was thinking. “Damn you, I wish you’d figure out what you want,” she exploded at Navarre.

  All the windows in the car cracked.

  Chapter Eleven

  The windshield crackled as if a baseball smashed it, only there was no offending projectile, just a spider web of fractures. “Omigod.” Nikki swerved. Navarre seized Adrianne and shoved her head into her lap. Quince grabbed the steering wheel and straightened the car out.

  The pressure instantly eased in Adrianne’s mind, as if a rubber band had just snapped.

  Nikki continued to drive, albeit more slowly.

  “Need air?” Altarre rolled down the cracked window as if nothing were amiss, but his voice was strained.

  The cool winter air washed over the exposed skin on the back of her neck, the wind’s caress soothing.

  “What was that?” Nikki demanded.

  “An emerging psi’s talents can be unnerving.” Altarre eased Adrianne’s head out of her lap. “Look at me.”

  She complied without protest. He examined her eyes closely, laid the back of his hand against her forehead and held her wrist for a few moments. She could vaguely feel him rummaging around in her head. The tingle at the nape of her neck became a full-blown brass band. Satisfied, he dropped his hands and gaze. The orchestra receded to just an irritating tinkle of bells. She rubbed the back of her neck.

  Navarre cleared his throat. “Forgive me.”

  She was too startled to do anything but nod. “I did that?” Terror warred with awe. This was a side of her she wasn’t sure she could accept. She felt as if she was standing outside herself and calmly viewing her handiwork. How could this skill serve any purpose? She could hire herself out to a demolition crew. She swallowed the nervous titter.

  How many more surprises were waiting inside her? So she could stop objects, obviously the plane, and now she could break glass as well. Well, well. Wouldn’t her parents have been pleased? Which parents? her insidious mind asked. Adrianne shuddered.

  “Quite a power-laden talent.” Navarre’s breath tickled her cheek. She pressed against him, her back to his chest. She heard the rumble of his words in his chest before he spoke again. “Some gifts manifest themselves only under extreme adversity.”

  “I could have killed us.” Dismayed, she met Nikki’s worried glance reflected in the rearview mirror.

  “Navarre would have prevented that,” Altarre replied in a slightly shaken voice. Would you not have?

  “I heard that.” She closed her eyes, rubbing her temples.

  She surprised me. It will not happen again. To Adrianne, Navarre said gently, “Pardon this last intrusion, but I need to try to lock some of this skill away until you can be formally trained.”

  “Sure. Sure.” She turned in his grasp, trembling like a leaf and hating herself for being weak. He tucked her head beneath his chin. She felt a heaviness in her mind, then nothing more. She was acutely aware of Navarre’s arms wrapped around her and his solid chest lending her his support. So were her nipples. They pressed against him, painfully erect.

  “Don’t get too cozy.” Nikki glanced in the rearview mirror, still unnerved. “We’re home.”

  I want you, Navarre whispered in her mind. More than every breath I take. But what I want wars with what is proper within the Dragoon’s laws.

  “I don’t understand your laws,” she muttered, suddenly too tired to play mental games any longer.

  “I know.” He touched her cheek then, just a brush of his knuckles against her skin. She felt Altarre’s gaze on them.

  Adrianne kept her hands clenched, arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t trust the emotions coursing through her. She looked up at Navarre through the drape of her hair. He wore a stern, somewhat distant expression on his face. She understood it now. This was his public mask. What she’d glimpsed last night, washed in moonlight, was a true piece of himself. Did he share that with other members of the Dragoon?

  “It will get better. I promise.” Navarre shifted slightly so she was forced to pull away from him to keep her balance.

  Altarre opened the door and offered his hand to help her out of the vehicle. “I am the Dragoon’s healer. I can aid you as well with the headaches. You’ll probably have one later. Navarre always does. You need only ask for my assistance.”

  “Thank you.” With one thought she cursed them for finding her, with the next she felt indebted. “Does Navarre share this same propensity for randomly destroying things?”

  Altarre smiled. “It wasn’t easy to be rais
ed in his shadow. Psi-born are a notoriously unsteady lot.”

  “But you’re his brother.”

  “Growing up, I practiced a lot of my healing on him.” Altarre drew her out of the car and laid a steadying arm on her until Navarre appeared and took over. “What talents we possess are either a blessing or a curse, depending on who you speak to.”

  She looked at Quince, Nikki’s arm tucked neatly through his, although he wasn’t fighting her. “What do you think?”

  “They are fine dragons to have at one’s back when the enemy knocks,” Quince said.

  “You guys need to loosen up around each other.” Nikki tugged on Quince’s arm. “Haven’t you been together for centuries? Shouldn’t you be a bit more relaxed?”

  “Our Queen is exposed. This is no time to let down one’s guard.” Quince stared at Navarre.

  Navarre tipped his head. “You are correct. It will not happen again.”

  The Beast was a brick-and-mortar building of bygone construction. Ground level served as the bar. The second story was Nikki and Adrianne’s apartment. Adrianne loved it as much as Nikki. From the curved bricks arching over the windows to the ornate gargoyles beneath the eaves, the building spoke of charm and class. Lace curtains peeked out of the upper-story windows while the lower-story ones were sheathed in leather shades.

  Nikki inserted a large key into the door and punched in the code to disable the security alarm.

  “I could really get used to having you around,” Nikki said to Quince. “Sure I can’t hire you on as a bouncer?”

  Quince smiled, a look that unexpectedly softened his dark features, but made no reply.

  Nikki’s heart surrendered. “Welcome to my baby.” She opened the door and flipped on the lights.

  The place was spotless. A caged stage stood in one corner, the silver bars gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. Barstools were sheathed in leather, with legs made of chrome. The bar top was polished chrome as well.

  “I love my employees,” Nikki murmured, seeing everything in the rigid order and standard of cleanliness she demanded. She headed for her office behind the bar. “They’re all getting fat Christmas bonuses.”

  “I am impressed.” Adrianne ran her finger down the bar. “You’ve never left it alone for this long.”

  Nikki poked her head out of the office door. “Well, there’s still things undone. I need to take inventory, order my Christmas party supplies, do payroll.” Her voice faded as she ducked back in the office.

  Navarre approached the cage. “What goes on in here?”

  Nikki entertained everything from semi-nude dancers to bondage performances. The level of detail depended on the private-ness of the party and the whims of its clientele. A large swing, bolted to the ceiling, was tucked away in one corner. The performances were usually not to Adrianne’s liking, but Nikki catered to a select crowd.

  “Umm…” Adrianne began.

  Nikki stuck her head back in the bar. “I’m not sure what your tastes are, boys, but some night you will have to come to one of my shows.” She winked at Adrianne.

  She couldn’t stop the nude image that came foremost to her mind. Adrianne had the satisfaction of seeing Navarre flush. “You engage in public acts of intercourse?” he hissed.

  “Me? No. Others, yes. And there’s a law against sex in public. Probably several of them.” Adrianne folded her arms across her chest.

  Altarre slipped up to the stage, fascinated with a set of chains and fur-lined handcuffs. “Women willingly submit to this?”

  “Men too,” Adrianne said. The room seemed suddenly uncomfortably warm. She didn’t want to know what they were thinking. “I live upstairs.”

  She headed behind the stage, her entourage in tow, and up a flight of stairs. She turned the doorknob. That was odd. The door was already unlocked. Nikki never left her door unlocked, even when they were home. She must have left in such a hurry that she forgot.

  While the six-paneled wood house door was original to the building, the living room was done in a sleek modern taste. Nikki usually entertained her boyfriends here. Few made it to her bedroom or even lasted overnight. The couch was red leather, the carpeting a plush white Nikki religiously cleaned nearly every day. A plasma TV wrapped around one corner. A silver faux fireplace stood opposite the couch.

  Out of habit, she slipped off her shoes, and padded across the carpeted floor stocking-footed to the kitchen. To the left was her bedroom, to the right Nikki’s, and a shared bathroom lay straight ahead, conveniently between the two rooms.

  Home. She didn’t realize how much she had missed it. She wanted nothing more but to crawl under the bedcovers and pray everything was back to normal when she dared to peek back out.

  She glanced over her shoulder. Copying her gesture, the men had just finished slipping off their boots. Wow, one point to the aliens. At least they could be trained. She almost laughed out loud.

  Opening her bedroom door, she froze. Nix the crawl-under-the-covers idea. Someone was already in her bed, actually two somebodies, and judging by the lingerie scattered about the room, one was female. The sound of Navarre’s approaching footsteps had her closing the door immediately.

  Well, that explained the unlocked apartment door.

  She couldn’t quite process what she saw. She hmphed to herself, brow furrowing. That was her Doug. She knew his body by first glance. The mop top of rumpled sandy hair he usually kept slicked back, now poking above the covers, was the giveaway. Oh, Doug. The wash of sadness was overwhelming.

  “What is amiss?” Navarre approached her while Altarre remained in the kitchen, examining the toaster.

  “Nothing.” The numbness gave way to white-hot anger. How dare he! Her emotions warred with dumping a bucket of ice water on the pair to just leaving Doug a note and walking away from it all. This was her house! She felt her cheeks grow hot.

  “Adrianne.” Navarre’s voice was low, gaze penetrating. “I am not a fool. What are you hiding?”

  She heard Nikki’s footsteps in the hall. “How’d you get in?” she called. “I didn’t know we had a spare key. I should have known you’d hide one.” She passed through the kitchen, took the toaster away from Altarre who was now holding it upside down above his head and peering into it, and pecked Quince on the cheek. “I can’t believe how great the guys were. Not even a whip or chain out of place…” she trailed off, spotting Adrianne’s face.

  Grabbing Adrianne’s arm, Nikki pulled her back into the kitchen. “The bastard,” she hissed, guessing what lay behind the door.

  “I guess it’s good news,” Adrianne said after a long moment.

  Navarre followed them, expression dark.

  Quince cracked open the bedroom door, then closed it as softly as Adrianne had. His face was impassive.

  “I don’t know what makes me madder, that he’s using our place as a bachelor pad or that he left the door unlocked.” Adrianne took a wineglass out of the cabinet, opened the refrigerator and calmly poured a glass of wine. She handed the glass to Nikki, then pressed the bottle to her lips, tipped her head back and took a long swallow.

  Nikki stared at her, open-mouthed.

  Yeah, she wasn’t normally a drinker. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  “Adrianne,” Nikki began, then lifted her glass toward Adrianne with a sigh. “You’re right. Not this way, of course, but it’s over with now.”

  Adrianne wordlessly nodded. The alcohol was doing wonders on the constriction she felt in her chest. She took another drink out of the bottle.

  “Bar’s closed on Tuesdays. Nobody should have been poking around last night. Nothing looks out of place.” Nikki set the wineglass on the counter, then took a quick peek in her room. Satisfied, she returned. “Kitchen’s too small for all of us, boys.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Why don’t you wait for us in the living room?”

  Altarre slipped out without protest. Quince did not budge, his arms folded across his chest. Navarre remained close to Adri
anne’s side.

  Adrianne was again surprised that Quince was Nikki’s choice. Normally she fell for the more submissive types. Part of the reason Doug bugged Nikki so much was the way he spoke to her, as if she were but a servant to cater to his whims. Of course, he didn’t treat Adrianne like that or she wouldn’t have had sex with him. That didn’t make a whit of difference now. He was sleeping with someone else. And she didn’t care whether he treated that woman like dirt or not. Actually, part of her did care and did note he didn’t have any qualms about sleeping with someone else in her bed. What did that say about how he really felt toward her? Respect obviously fell out of the picture. To hell with his manners too.

  “Your mate is here,” Navarre guessed or did he read her thoughts? She was too caught up to worry about stray thoughts. “With another?” he asked.

  “He’s not my mate and yes, he’s here with someone else.” She spat the last words out, not realizing how bitter she felt.

  Navarre took one step back. “Do you wish our assistance in removing him?”

  Adrianne was too angry right now to care how it all looked to the Dragoon. “Not at this moment. Nikki.” Her voice was deadly. “Do you mind if I make a mess?”

  “In this case, no.”

  “Bring me two of your pillows.”

  “May I suggest a cane?” Nikki said teasingly, then noticed the tears starting to form in Adrianne’s eyes. “On their way. Have another drink.”

  Adrianne rummaged as quietly as possible through the cupboards, collecting supplies and polishing off the bottle of wine as well.

  “In our world it would not be uncommon for our Queen to burn the rogue and his whore alive,” Quince said.

  Adrianne stiffened. “No one will be dying over this.” She spun around, glaring at Quince and Navarre. “Do you understand?”