by Sarah Fine
My captor wrenched me to my feet, pulling out some of my hair in the process. I couldn’t scream, because the creature’s steely grip was on my throat again immediately, cutting off my air supply as the tips of its claws dug into my skin. The Queen leaned toward me until her snout nearly touched my nose. “Are you the one who stole my prize?” she said, her black canine lips shaping around the words. “Did you come to my domain just to steal him?”
I tried not to look at Malachi, but I couldn’t help it. There were Mazikin on either side of him, their knives pressed to his neck, his chest, his stomach, his back. His arms were up, hands empty and helpless. And his eyes were on me. The Queen followed the direction of my gaze and smiled. “I thought I might have lost you forever,” she said to him, almost lovingly. “I’m so glad you came back.”
Awkwardly, her belly leading the way, she waddled over to him while the others circled us on all fours. “You couldn’t stay away, could you? You can’t hide. Not you.”
Malachi watched her approach. “I came to seek my vengeance,” he said suddenly.
She snarled. “And her?” She swished her claw through the air toward me. “Is she here for the same purpose?”
He shook his head. “She’s nothing. A slave who let me inside the castle.”
I closed my eyes. He was trying to protect me. And when I opened them, he was glaring at me, warning me to keep silent. I couldn’t have spoken if I wanted to, though. I couldn’t even swallow. If my captor didn’t loosen its grip soon, I was going to black out. My ears filled with a roaring, rushing sound.
And somehow, I still managed to hear the Queen say, “Get my silver-tips.”
Hatred and rage blasted through me. There was no fucking way I was going to let it happen again. I stomped on my captor’s foot, then grabbed its hand with both of mine and bent sharply, throwing the creature over my shoulder to the floor. I slid its knife from the sheath at its belt but didn’t bother to kill it. Instead, I leaped at the Queen. I was caught midair by at least four Mazikin, who slammed me to the floor so hard that my vision went white.
When it returned, the Queen was leaning over me. “You’re one of them, too,” she said quietly, her voice shaking with eagerness. “And you came for him.”
She made a motion with her claws, and I was pulled up again. This time, blades were pressed to all my soft spots, too, like they’d done with Malachi. “I think,” the Queen announced, “that we should play a little game.”
Her belly shifted, making me shudder. She saw my reaction and ran her hand over the huge mound. “I don’t suppose you are a mother?” she asked.
I blinked.
“I didn’t think so,” she continued. “You can’t possibly understand.”
“Explain it, then.” I was willing to say almost anything to buy us some time. I glanced around, trying to see where they were keeping Ana and Treasa, but I couldn’t move my head more than an inch, because there were knife blades at either side of my throat and the back of my neck.
The Queen peered at me with her glittering black eyes. “Why not? It’s better that you understand. You were sent here by my mother, after all.” When she saw the unease her words caused, she tilted her head. “You know the Judge created us? She made us to be objects of love. She favored us above all, even the angels.”
“You rebelled, though.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, Malachi shook his head slightly, his eyes going wide.
The Queen blocked my view of him. “Rebelled,” she said with a growl. “I suppose history is written by the victors. And yet . . . I think the Guards are in a unique position to understand what it means to be a Mazikin.”
She ran a clawed finger down my cheek to my neck, where my pulse beat wildly. From a few feet away, I heard a sharp intake of breath from Malachi. I wanted to see him, but I was afraid to move. “Don’t you ever want to break free of her?” the Queen murmured. “Don’t you ever wish you could live your life, without the shackles of servitude?”
“Were you a servant?”
She snarled. “I was a pet. There isn’t much difference.”
“You called her your mother.”
She pressed close to me, until her belly hit mine and her breath was rank on my face. “She was a terrible mother.”
I let out a snort, trying to control my frantic heartbeat. “I know the feeling.”
Her eyes widened. “Do you?”
“I was abandoned by my mom.”
“And did she imprison you under a dome, at the mercy of the elements?”
“No, she tossed me into the foster care system, at the mercy of anyone and everyone.”
Her round ears twitched. “You’re pretending that you know what it’s like, but you don’t. All we wanted to do was rule.” She began to turn back to Malachi.
“You wanted to rule?” I said, unwilling to let her get close to him. “That’s why you’re here?”
She pivoted back to me, her wet nose quivering. “We were punished for who we were.”
“You were created by someone just so she could love you. I heard you had the run of the Sanctum, too. And you must have. I mean, look at you, wearing dresses and speaking English and walking on two legs. You even figured out that portal. It doesn’t exactly look like she locked you out in the yard on a short chain.”
The Queen’s ears angled sharply forward, and she growled.
I was getting to her. “You were created to be loved, and you were given freedom. And you basically took a huge shit on all of that because you wanted to be in charge. Then you turned around and started to imprison other living beings. You know, because you’re so much better than the Judge. From where I sit, you’re not exactly a good mother, either.”
“Lela,” snapped Malachi. “Shut up.”
The Queen sighed. “You’re not very interesting.” But it was clear from the agitated twitching of her ears and nose that she was mightily pissed. The crowd parted, and to my horror, a small Mazikin came forward, carrying a cushion—upon which rested five steel-tipped razor-sharp blades. The Mazikin held me tighter as the Queen calmly began to slide them onto the claws of her right hand.
She held her hand up when she was finished, and the group around us began to hoot and snarl. “I’m feeling hungry,” she purred. “Time to play.”
She took a step toward Malachi. I lunged again, but this time, the Mazikin holding me was ready. Steel bit into my flesh, and clawed hands held me tight. The Queen smiled. “You love him, don’t you? This Guard who made my children suffer, who left them in fear, who murdered so many of us. You love him.”
Tears stung my eyes. “I love him. Please don’t hurt him again.”
Her claws glinted as she looked down at them. “You’d take his place?”
Fear writhed inside my belly. But my love for Malachi was stronger. “Yes.”
“No!” roared Malachi. “She will not.”
The Queen’s tongue lolled with amusement. “No?”
“She was tricked into the service of the Judge, and she hasn’t been a Guard for even a hundred days. She hasn’t had time to hurt your children. But I have.”
A tall Mazikin with a scar across its ugly snout stepped forward. It had been hovering quietly at the edge of the group, but now it put its arm around the Queen and hooted softly in her ear. Her black lips curled into a smirk. “My beloved Sil tells me this girl strangled the life out of his last body. He says she bashed Juri’s head in. Tell me again she hasn’t hurt my children.”
“Not like I have,” said Malachi in a loud voice. He looked pale but strong as she approached him. “I’ve done terrible things to them. I’ve slit their throats. I’ve imprisoned them in the dark tower. I’ve—” His words ended in a sharp groan as she sank her claws into the side of his face.
I struggled helplessly against the Mazikin who were keeping me immobile. I wracked my brain to
find words that would get her away from him. But Malachi looked triumphant as blood ran down his face. “I killed your mate decades ago,” he whispered. “Nero. He will never return to you.”
She let out a vicious growl and grasped his face in both her hands. Malachi closed his eyes, drawing deep breaths through his nose. He knew what was about to happen.
And it was what he wanted.
I threw myself backward against my captors, kicking desperately, ignoring the stabbing pains in my back as their blades sank in a few inches. Sil stepped forward and grasped the Queen’s shoulder, talking to her again. Whatever he’d said made her squint at Malachi, who remained perfectly still as she scored his face with her claws.
Then her hands fell away from him.
His eyes popped open, and it was easy to read the anxiety there. Especially when she said, “You are right, Sil. This is better.”
She stepped toward me. Malachi shouted, “I pushed Nero through the doors of the tower myself. I watched the horror take him over! He knew he would never escape!”
She bared her fangs at him. “Then this is exactly what you deserve, Captain. You took my mate . . . and I take yours.”
The sound that came from Malachi was pure pain. He twisted abruptly and gained control of one of his captor’s daggers, which he plunged through its heart. But he was impaled with three other blades before he could draw it out again. He sank to his knees, his eyes round, blood soaking his tunic. His eyes met mine, and my heart broke as I read the apology and horror there.
“Hold him,” said the Queen. “Make him watch as I eat her heart.”
I closed my eyes. I couldn’t stand his pain on top of my own. You’ll survive, a tiny voice inside me said. You can survive anything. I knew it. I believed it. But I also knew this was going to go so far beyond any previous understanding of pain I’d had. I nearly gagged as I felt her rotten breath huff across my face.
“Please,” Malachi said hoarsely. “Please don’t.”
She didn’t answer him. Her claws stroked down my face, almost lovingly. I prepared for what would happen next, for the pressure and tearing as those claws ripped through me, for the agony of steel piercing my heart. A sudden peace came over me.
“Now!” a human voice roared.
The Queen yelped and spun away from me, and I opened my eyes to see the Tanner and his fighters charging up the main corridor, weapons raised and ready for battle.
TWENTY
I FELL TO THE floor as the Mazikin guards who’d been holding me leaped forward to defend the Queen. The Tanner, looking like a demonic Viking with his mace and his beard and his horrible black teeth, took out two Mazikin with a single swing of that heavy spiked club. Treasa was with him, and it struck me—she’d escaped. When the Mazikin had come after us, she must have slipped down those toilet holes and gone for help. But where was Ana? They’d been together, hadn’t they? I scanned the horde of humans trying to fight their way into the throne room, but she was nowhere in sight.
Our Captain was gone.
The sounds of war surrounded us: roars and snarls and yelps and screams, human and animal, male and female. I looked around and saw Malachi, curled in on himself only a few feet away. One of the creatures had left its dagger embedded in his chest. As a guard hustled the Queen onto her mechanized cart and the rest of the Mazikin tried to keep the human invaders at the entrance to the throne room, I scrambled over and covered Malachi with my body. I pressed my face to his shoulder as my knees slipped in a growing pool of his blood. “Hey. I’m here.”
He didn’t seem able to speak, but his red-soaked fingers closed over mine and held them to his arm. As much as I wanted to protect him from the battle raging all around us, I couldn’t, not if I wanted to complete this mission. This was my responsibility now. I had to go after the Queen. I glanced down at the handle of the dagger embedded in his chest. “Malachi . . .”
“Take it,” he wheezed. He gave me a sidelong glance and a weak, pained smile. “You’d be doing me a favor.”
With shaking hands, I touched the quivering hilt. Malachi bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. With a huge pull, I wrenched it from his body, and he couldn’t fully contain his cry of pain. Praying that I hadn’t damaged him even more, I got to my feet. A flash of blue off to my right caught my attention. My mother and Zip were huddled at the entrance to the side hallway where we’d hidden earlier. I hoped they stayed put. Neither one of them was armed.
The Queen’s guards, including Sil, had gotten her situated on her cart. One of them shoved the chauffeur, who’d already been impaled by someone’s hurled dagger, to the bone floor. The engine roared. Staying low, I ran toward the cart, but a Mazikin leaped for my throat right as I was about to jump on. Its claws scrabbled at the sleeves of my tunic. I kneed it in the chest, then drove my blade down through its shoulder, into the center of its body. It dropped at my feet, and I yanked the blade from the carcass as the cart lurched into motion.
There were three guards on the cart with the Queen. I raced after the vehicle as it ran over one of the Tanner’s men, leaving him with a caved-in rib cage, staring glassy-eyed at the ceiling. I hurdled over him and sprinted after the cart, which was heading for a corridor opposite the entrance to the main hallway, where the Tanner, Treasa, and most of the fighters were battling a dozen Mazikin.
It was up to me.
Two Mazikin guards were crouched on the rear of the cart, knives drawn. One of them hurled himself off as I got close, but I dodged to the side as he hit the floor and rolled away. Another guard held on to the Queen’s mattress, bracing himself as I lunged for the cart. I blocked his blade with my bloody dagger and heaved my body onto the back. Claws slashed down but didn’t penetrate my tunic. I sliced at the guard’s blade arm, and he yelped, nearly losing his balance.
I began to crawl toward the Queen, whose focus was riveted on her escape route. The cart lurched suddenly. I peered at the driver—Sil—who was now under attack by a Mazikin in a blue dress. Zip and my mother had jumped onto the cart and were fighting him for control. Zip had her claws around his neck and her teeth clamped over his already-scarred snout as he tried to keep the cart moving. My mother was smacking at his hands and trying to grab the wheel.
My momentary distraction turned out to be a huge mistake. I flipped onto my back when I heard the growl behind me, but I couldn’t block the strike. The Mazikin guard, blood soaking his right arm, stabbed me, piercing my shoulder all the way through with his blade. I screamed, drawing the attention of the Queen. The cart was slowing, but I couldn’t roll off, because I was pinned to her mattress. The Queen snarled and began to crawl toward me, her silver-tips flashing.
I jerked my blade up, catching the guard in the throat as he began to pull his dagger from my body. His eyes rolled back as he tumbled off the cart—taking my weapon with him. I reached up in time to block the Queen’s descending claws, but her jaws clamped down on my forearm and she began to shake her head. Her black eyes caught mine, and I saw the anger there . . . along with a hint of amusement. I yanked my arm down as I jerked up and head-butted her across the bridge of her short, wrinkled snout. She roared and let go of me, but my arms were too injured to allow me to fend her off again. I brought my knee up, but she threw herself on top of my legs and smirked.
Then she plunged her silver-tipped claws into my body.
Everything slowed down as my chest filled with the most unimaginable pressure, like it was about to explode. My vision turned red. My ears filled with shrieks, but I was pretty sure they weren’t coming from me.
The pressure disappeared as a wild creature with curly black hair and flashing amber-brown eyes landed square on the Queen’s back, pulling her away from me. Clumsy with her enormous belly, the Queen flailed and howled as my mother ripped off one of her silver claws and jammed it into the Queen’s neck. “Nadie puede robarle a mi bebé los dientes!” my mother shouted.
I stared, unable to breathe or move, as the Queen’s clawed hands scrabbled at the narrow blade now wedged in her neck. In the driver’s seat, Zip was still wrestling with Sil. She was bleeding badly—it looked like he’d torn her throat open, and her grasp on his neck seemed weak. The Queen’s writhing caught Sil’s attention, and with a roar, he let go of Zip and lunged for my mother.
Zip wrenched the wheel before he landed, and Sil went flying off the cart. He hit a wall and landed in a heap. The engine sputtered as Zip swerved away from the exit and back into the throne room. My mother reached me as we bumped along. With soft hands that smelled like wet dog, she stroked my face. Still unable to speak, I looked up at her. Everything else was a blur. Only her face was real. I saw clarity in her eyes, and tears that fell hot on my cheeks like rain. She stroked my hair. “Te amo, Lela,” she whispered. “Siempre.”
She pulled the blade from my shoulder and pushed me off the cart.
I hit hard, my head cracking against the bone floor. Nerveless, paralyzed, and slowly losing consciousness, I watched as Zip, her head lolling, her throat torn, gunned the engine. My mother gazed at me with a peaceful smile that lasted until the cart collided with the stone wall around the portal. With a crunching explosion, the back rose into the air, tossing Zip, my mother, and the Queen straight into the blue depths.
The first thing I became aware of was a warm hand pressed high on my stomach. I tensed.
“It’s me, Lela,” Malachi whispered, and I relaxed a little, drifting, letting my senses feed me information. His earthy scent was all around me. His arm held my back to his front, and his palm was right over the spot where the Queen had forced her claws into my flesh. I tugged my tunic up, noticing it was new and clean. Malachi moved his hand from my skin to reveal five curved pink scars.
“It was the worst of your wounds.” He laid his hand on my stomach again.
I put my hand over his. “We’re still in the palace?”
