The Queen's Flight (Emerging Queens)

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  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.”

  “That’s something.” Viola realized she was clinging to Sergei and forced herself to step away. He made her feel so safe it was easy to use him as a security blanket. She went over to the table and poured them two full glasses of wine. She handed him one. “Was Reed happy?”

  “As happy as Reed gets. The embassy is sending a team out here. They’re a few hours behind me. They’re going to negotiate with Cassandra to let the native Queens reside in her lands until Conclave.”

  “Will she do that?” Viola looked into the wine as if it was a magic eight ball.

  “Hell, no. Esmeralda was the only one who agreed. And that’s because she didn’t want her sins to be public knowledge.” Sergei sneered in disgust.

  Viola swirled the wine as if it really was a magic eight ball.

  My sources say no.

  It hadn’t really said that, but it would be a neat use of Queen magic if she could figure out how to divine the future. Not tail whipping, stabbing your enemy type of cool, but more her style, at least.

  “You blackmailed a Queen?” she asked.

  “Not me. That was her son, Reed.”

  “Which one of the Queens is your mother?” Viola sat on the bed, pulling up her legs to give him room if he wanted to join her. He didn’t. It took a valiant effort, but she managed not to pout.

  “She’s dead. She went into the weave shortly after I was born. Her name was Tatiana.” Sergei swirled his wine and took a large gulp.

  “Did you miss her, growing up?” Viola wished he would look up at her or come closer.

  Sergei shook his head. “Very few studs stay with their mothers. We’re given to our fathers to train.”

  “Who’s your father?”

  “Dead.”

  Viola blinked at the lack of emotion in his voice.

  “Did a Queen kill him?”

  “Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?” He put his wine down and went over to the fireplace to stare into it.

  “No…well, maybe a little.”

  “Indirectly. He was defending his Queen’s honor—Cassandra—before you ask. And the other stud was too powerful for him—Justice.”

  Viola noticed the tight set of his shoulders and wished she had the guts to go soothe him. The fear of rejection was too strong, so she stayed where she was and picked up a wool sweater she’d been given and started to unravel it. Rolling the yarn into a ball gave her hands something to do. She hoped it was machine made or that at least the person who knitted it never found out what she was doing to their work. “And you were left here to be raised?”

  Sergei nodded. “Very soon after my father’s death, I was commanded not to kill Justice, and I was told my duties to the Queen would commence that night.”

  “How old were you?”

  “About a hundred.” He poked at the fire, sending embers sparking up the chimney.

  “Is that young for a dragon?”

  “Any age is too young to take on Cassandra when she’s in a temper. Although you did a fine job.” He took a long swallow of wine. “Don’t ever do it again. Next time she’ll do something nasty. She’ll never forgive you for talking back to her in front of witnesses.”

  “And I probably made an enemy out of Justice, too.” Viola wound the yarn, but then set the ruined sweater and ball aside. It wasn’t comforting her tonight.

  “Most definitely. So we will go to dinner, then leave. It’s not good for either of us in Cassandra’s keep.” He rose from the bed, walked over to her window, and scanned the view.

  She stared at him, so thankful he was safe. All it took was him being in the same room, and her troubles seemed manageable.

  Or it could be the wine.

  She finished it in one grateful swallow. Wow. The one good thing about being a Queen was they never served you the shitty vintage.

  “Where to next?” she asked. “No offense to Reed, but I’m going to pass on the dragon embassy safe house.”

  “I’ll think of something. I bought us some breathing room with the Cult of Humanity. Was there any place you wanted to go to?”

  “I could use a manicure,” Viola said, looking at her nails in askance. Her hangnails had hangnails.

  He snickered. “I was thinking more globally. Besides, you’re perfect the way you are.”

  A pleasant warmth coated her insides at his words, but they didn’t completely wipe away her tension. “Confused and homeless? Although, I suppose I could stay here with my father.” Viola was curious to learn more about him. Would he be just like her mother, over-critical and self-absorbed, or was it true, opposites attract?

  “Not a chance. Cassandra is dangerous. What’s your father’s story?”

  “I think there’s something else going on that he’s not telling me. He’s a member of the Order of the Dragon Slayers.”

  “Interesting.” Sergei tapped his fingers on the sill. “I wonder what his angle is.”

  “That makes two of us. Do you think Cassandra will stop us from leaving?”

  “Definitely, but I’m hoping that when Reed and his embassy goons get here, we can slip out in the confusion. I’d like to avoid another confrontation with Cassandra if we can avoid it.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s not going to like that I have a tendresse for you.”

  “Does tendresse mean hard-on?” This was getting ridiculous. Someone had to make the first move. Viola walked over to stand next to him. She couldn’t be the only one remembering their last conversation—before the rocket destroyed the house.

  “Something like that.” He turned to face her. Tracing his fingers down her cheek to tilt her chin up, Sergei pressed a firm quick kiss on her mouth. “I was worried about you.”

  Viola clutched the front of his jacket and lifted up onto her tiptoes. “We have some unfinished business.”

  He leaned in to kiss her and as their bodies grazed, she felt something odd in his inner coat pocket. Sergei wound up kissing the top of her head, when she opened his jacket flap.

  Two metal needles and a cheap skein of yarn. Her throat choked with emotion. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her.

  “You rock!” She launched herself at him.

  Sergei staggered back against the window from the force of her kiss. It was a good thing he was huge because they probably would have both gone sailing out the window. She didn’t care if she was being pushy. He thought to bring her something she loved. So she wouldn’t feel lost and alone.

  She broke the kiss. “Are you sure you don’t want to be my consort?”

  “You’re crazy,” he muttered before claiming her mouth again. She clung to him and gave back as good as she could.

  “I want you,” she gasped, when his mouth went to her neck. “But promise me you aren’t doing this be
cause you aren’t allowed to say no.”

  “Command me. I am yours,” he growled out, biting her throat with tempting nips that curled her nails into his back.

  “I command you not to do anything you don’t want to,” Viola said in a shaky voice.

  “As my Queen desires.” He shrugged out of his jacket.

  “Take off your shirt, too.”

  Sergei pulled his T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.

  “Now you,” he ordered.

  Viola slowly slipped her jacket off her shoulders.

  He untied the strips of fabric behind her neck and her dress sank down to her knees, leaving her in her bra and panties.

  Feeling shy, she covered herself.

  “Don’t hide yourself behind your hands. I want to see all of you.” He moved her over to the bed. Her back hit the soft mattress as he slipped the silky fabric of her dress down her legs. “So beautiful,” he said straddling her.

  His abs could cut diamonds, she thought, tracing them as far as she could reach. He loomed over her, big, tattooed, muscled with a wicked grin that made her wet with anticipation. She slapped the rough fabric covering his thighs. “Take your jeans off.”

  In a heartbeat, he vanished them using his magic and she saw him in all his naked glory. He was taut, cock pressed tight against his stomach. She risked a touch, the lightest of caresses.

  “Your turn.” He brushed fingertips over her stomach. Gooseflesh rippled over her. “Make your underwear disappear.”

  “I can’t concentrate enough to magic them away.” His hardness filled her palm and she stroked him. He arched his back as she rubbed him faster.

  “Yeah.” He moaned. “That feels so good.”

  “Like this?” She loved feeling the pulsing heat in her hand. His thighs cradled her sides. Viola wiggled, trapped and enjoying it. But there was more she wanted. More she needed. “I want you to come.”

  “Wait.” He stopped her, by taking hand off him. He kissed the inside of her wrist. Then, piercing her with a possessive glance, nipped her soft flesh. “We’ll do this the old-fashioned way. You need to be naked.” Letting go, he slid his hands under her back and unhooked her strapless bra, flinging it to the floor. Sergei sighed as her breasts bounced free. “I’ve wanted to get my hands on these ever since I saw your nipples through Jack’s T-shirt.” He rubbed his palms over her chest.