The Queen's Flight (Emerging Queens)

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  They are scared and in danger.

  She held her head. “I know where the missing Queens are. I know where all the Queens are.”

  “Get out of the weave,” he snarled, coming off the bed after her.

  “I can’t. I am the weave. We all are.” Viola put her hand to her forehead. She felt them there, waiting for her. “It’s with me always now. Ever since Ireland.”

  “I didn’t pull you out of Cassandra’s castle to lose you in my lair.” Sergei whirled her around to face him.

  “I’m okay,” she said.

  “You’re white as a sheet.”

  “The voices. They’re a shock.”

  He hugged her and rubbed sensation back into her body until she relaxed.

  “So this is your lair?” Viola surveyed the area after she came back to herself. It was a bedroom straight out of Eddie Bauer. “I pictured something edgier and more modern. Where’s your hoard?”

  He cleared his throat and reddened slightly. “The bikes are in a warehouse behind the house.”

  She smiled. “Are we talking the type with motors than go vroom?”

  “Can we get back to what we were doing? I think your hand was about to go around my cock again.” He guided it there.

  “Yeah…I mean no.” Viola couldn’t allow herself to be distracted now. As much as she’d like to tumble all over the flannel sheets with him again, they had work to do. “I can find the newbie Queens that were stolen.”

  “How?”

  “I haven’t quite figured that out yet.” She tapped a finger on her lip. “I concentrate and I feel the connection.”

  “Do you get GPS coordinates?” Sergei cocked his head at her, the disbelief warring with concern on his face.

  “No,” she snapped. “I haven’t had a chance to experiment.”

  “Don’t experiment. Let me see if I can get a shaman here to help you with the weave.”

  “A shaman?”

  “Niall is one. Or…” Sergei coughed and muttered another name.

  “Casimiro?” Viola said. “I don’t think so. He’ll probably tell me I’m too fat for the weave.” She blew up her cheeks and pretended to waddle like a penguin.

  “You’re not fat,” Sergei said, yanking her back to him. “Come sit on my face and you’ll see.”

  “That’s a great pick-up line,” she stroked his cheek. “Does that work for you a lot?”

  “Yes,” Sergei said.

  “Is that so?” Viola put her hands on her hips.

  “But not anymore. I am your consort. I will not serve another Queen.” He laid a hand over his heart. Then ruined the sweet gesture by putting his other hand on her ass and squeezing.

  “Will I have to serve another stud?” Viola fretted, cuddling against him.

  “I can’t stop them from coming to you to petition their cause, but I can rip their heads off and stick them on pikes out front to discourage them.”

  “I think that might upset the sheep.” Viola rubbed her cheek against his chest.

  “You didn’t seem so worried about their nerves when you wanted to jump me in the pasture.”

  Viola assessed the V opening at the top of his hips and imagined tracing her tongue down the arrow of fine hair.

  Help me!

  “Oh, Nidhogg!” she said. “Now I’m hearing individual voices. I just heard her crying for help. Who is Nidhogg, anyway?”

  “He’s an insanely powerful dragon shackled below the earth to the world tree so he doesn’t destroy the universe. She who?” Sergei held her at arms length.

  “A Queen…Margery… She’s light blue. Almost ethereal.”

  “Sky dragon,” Sergei supplied. “I don’t know of any Queen named Margery.”

  Viola’s eyes unfocused. The blue weave was invading her thoughts, making it hard to stay in the present. Margery was afraid and in pain. She was in the dark.

  “Where is she?” Sergei’s voice was far away. He sounded so worried.

  Viola went to the jagged hole and felt herself sucked toward it, but she couldn’t fit.

  “Margery,” she called. It was like yodeling in an echo chamber.

  “Viola!” Sergei shook her shoulders hard enough that Viola’s head bobbled.

  “She’s somewhere all alone. And I’m getting whiplash. Cut it out.” The blue haze returned full force, like an ocean wave sweeping her under.

  “Viola.” His voice was getting dimmer. Was that panic she heard?

  Water drenched Viola for real, and she would have slipped in the tub if Sergei weren’t there.

  “Too cold,” her lips chattered. “I have to help Margery.”

  “You’re bleeding again, and you weren’t responding to me. You’re staying here until you come to your senses.”

  “They’re going to hurt her,” Viola gripped his arms. Blinking back the freezing water from the shower stream, she realized they were both naked.

  “Better her than you,” Sergei’s grim voice chilled her worse than the water.

  “How can you say that?” Viola clamped down on her teeth to keep them from chattering. “If it wasn’t for you that would have been me.”

  “Okay,” he sighed, resignation slumped his shoulders. “I’ll call it in to Reed.” Sergei shut off the water. “But you have to promise me not to attempt to find her until you’re stronger.”

  “I can’t promise that,” she shivered, stepping out into the marble floor.

  “Viola, you could die.” He wrapped her in a thick, towel.

  “You won’t let me.” Viola walked ahead of him, then looked over her shoulder at him. “I need to rest. You need to come with me.”

  Much later, Viola stretched and her stomach growled.

  “I could make a nice steak dinner,” Sergei said. “It would tide us over until the meat delivery comes.”

  “Is there wine?” she asked and then winced. “I don’t mean that in a psycho-Queen way. I just like Merlot.”

  “Really? That’s a sign of a young palate.” Sergei seemed more amused than upset.

  “I’m young. And starving.”

  “You were unconscious for three days.”

  “Three days?” Viola squirmed to sit up. “What happened at Cassandra’s castle?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t care.” Sergei tried to force her back down, but she wiggled away. Adrenaline fired away the weakness, giving her the strength to move again.

  “What about my dad? Did Carolyn get him out? Does he want to see me?”

  “You can talk to Carolyn later.”

  “With what? Everything I owned has had a house dropped on it.” Despair filled her again. All that lovely yarn.

  “We can go shopping.” Sergei smoothed a hand down her back.

  “With what money?” Viola swallowed back a snivel.

  “Are you starting to freak out?” He peered into her eyes, even as she was blinking away the tears.

  “Yes,” Viola said. “I’ve been very good up until now. Let me have my little freak-out time. There was some serious mojo working the weave at Cassandra’s castle. Carolyn thought it was a spell, but I think it was another Queen. An insanely powerful one. Is Nidhogg a Queen?”

  “No.”

  “I can’t connect with the big presence right now.” Viola searched inward for the blue light.

  “Stop it,” he gritted out.

  “I think she’s searching for me.” Viola gripped his shoulder.

  “She’s going to have to wait until you’re stronger.”

  “I am stronger. I need to get back into the land of the living. That steak sounded good. Do I have pants around here?” Viola climbed out of bed. The sooner she was back doing something, the sooner she’d feel better.

  “Pants are overrated.” He lounged back in bed, naked. He stretched his arms over his head and rested his head on them.

  “Sergei, I can’t go around wearing your shirts.” Viola stared, unabashed.

  “Why not? We’re the only ones here. Besides, I prefer you naked.�
��

  “I think I’m going crazy,” Viola said, her shoulders drooping.

  “The feeling will pass. I didn’t buy you any clothes. But you can probably modify one of my shirts into an outfit using your magic.”

  She considered it. “If you get the steaks started, I’ll see what I come up with. Where the hell are we anyway?”

  “Vermont,” he said, getting off the bed. He didn’t bother magicking himself any clothes.

  “Who knows we’re here?”

  “No one. My official lair is in New Jersey. This is private property for acres. No one will find you.”

  Viola couldn’t shake the haunted and hunted feelings that were coming over her.

  “Are you okay?” Sergei asked.

  Viola rubbed her face. “Yeah, the headache is agonizing and I’ve got a song stuck in my head.” Help! I need somebody!

  “I can help with that.” Sergei started to whistle “It’s a Small World After All” and went downstairs, smiling.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Viola went back into the bathroom for more meds as soon as Sergei left the room.

  It’s a world of laughter…shithead.

  When she closed the mirrored cabinet, she had to stifle a scream. A mini version of her heads in dragon form stared back at her.

  “So I am going crazy?” she asked her reflection. Viola poked herself, but she was still human. She poked the glass. It was still a mini version of her dragon form.

  “No one would blame you,” the white horse head said.

  “You realize that the only difference between this farmhouse in Vermont and Smythe’s lair is it’s prettier,” the red goat head said.

  “I am not trapped.” Viola pointed at the middle, violet head, who nodded her dragonly agreement. “I’m being protected. I can walk out the front door right now if I want.”

  “Without pants?” Goat said.

  Viola grabbed two towels and concentrated. In a moment she was wearing terry cloth shorts and a matching shirt.

  “That’s hot.”

  “You shut up,” Viola rattled four more aspirin in her hand. “I am happy. I have a sexy man who doesn’t want me to buy him an education or a Harley Davidson. In fact, I bet he has a whole warehouse full of them.” She swallowed down the chalky tablets, scooping up water from the faucet with her hand.

  “So you have to ask yourself, doll, what does he want from you?” Goat tried to butt the mirror.

  “It’s not like that,” Viola moved back from the goat’s horns even though it didn’t come through the mirror. “It’s a little sudden and soon, but I like him and I think he likes me.”

  “Did he say that?”

  “He bought me a spinning wheel, goats, and animals. He brought me to his lair.”

  Goat narrowed her eyes at her. “Tendresse means fondness. I looked it up.”

  “Where? There are no dictionaries in my head!”

  “What she means to say”—Horse broke in, her mane flowing as she spoke—“is that Sergei is being a little heavy handed with telling you what to do. Perhaps you should assert yourself. You should have a career.”

  “I had a career,” Viola said. “It sucked.” She couldn’t believe she was arguing with a mirror.

  “You had a job,” Horse returned smoothly. “Now, you have a chance to do something important. You can find the lost Queens. Stop them from suffering and bring them into the weave with the rest of our sisters.”

  “Sure, I can do both. I can start dragon babies with Sergei while showing the embassy where to find…wait…did I say dragon babies?” Viola clutched her stomach. “How does that even happen?”

  “Do you see how much you don’t know?” Goat said. “You’re in over your head. Sergei is only going to tell you the bare minimum. The better to control you.”

  “That’s not fair. I’m not listening to you anymore.” Viola stormed out of the bathroom and followed her nose toward the searing smell of meat.

  She felt a little less spacey and hysterical after her third steak. She eschewed the wine for about a gallon of water because her mouth felt stuffed with cotton. Sergei sat across from her at the table. He was shirtless and she distracted herself in between bites, but enjoying the view.

  “So I was wondering. Where does the money for all this come from?” Viola waved her hand around.

  “I’m a day trader,” he deadpanned.

  “You’re shitting me, right?”

  “Yes. I’m older than dirt. I have large amounts of wealth amassed.”

  “Do you have, like, a cave filled with gold doubloons?”

  “Why, you want to do a little D&D role playing?”

  “D&D? Is that like S&M?”

  “It could be.”

  “So I don’t have to work?” Viola tested the question, wondering if her fears that he wanted her only to be barefoot and pregnant were true or if it was just her insecurity, aka Goat and Horse, trying to ruin a good thing.

  “You want to go back to Talon Industries?” Sergei shoveled more steak in his mouth and chewed with relish.

  “No, I was thinking of making homemade soaps from the goat milk and spinning my own yarn. Maybe I’ll get a stand at a craft fair.” That had been a dream of hers for so long it seemed that another person had dreamt it.

  He frowned. “Seems a lot of work for a little reward.”

  “It’s not work, it’s fun.” She tried not to be defensive, so she settled on frowning at him and drinking her water.

  “How much money do you think you can make?”

  “I don’t know a couple of hundred dollars a week— maybe.”

  He snorted. “Chump change. It’s not worth the risk of exposure. If they were dragon-made soaps, you could sell them for a $100 each.”

  “Sergei, no one is going to pay a $100 for a bar of soap. Not unless it’s made out of marijuana.” Viola hated that he made sense. It would have been so much easier if he started throwing his weight around, like all of her other exes. Then she’d know how to deal with him. It shouldn’t be so hard to trust when someone was being decent to you.

  “I wouldn’t recommend growing a stash, even though we have the land for it. Reed might get his tail in a knot.”

  “So I’d be able to do a craft stand?” She waited for him to shoot her down.

  “If you feel you have to. Keep in mind I’ll be sitting next to you, bitching about it constantly.”

  “You can stay home.”

  He raised his hand. “Protector and consort. Doesn’t work that way.”

  “What if I wanted to do something with more impact?”

  “You want me to buy more alpacas?”

  “Can you?” Viola leaned forward eagerly. “It’s not that I don’t love the ones you got me, but if you could buy a light silver-gray one? I could make you a one-of-a-kind, hand-knitted sweater. It would keep you warm in the winter.”

  “I’ve got you for that.”

  She pouted.

  “No problem. I’ll ask the breeder that I got those guys from.”

  “I feel a little like a mooch.” Those Alpacas cost over a month’s salary for her.

  “You are my Queen. It’s my duty to provide for you. Normally, the Queen’s purse is split among the other studs, but since there will be no other studs I’m happy to take up the slack.”

  “So I’m sensing this is like Christmas? Do I make a list?”

  “Why don’t you sit on my lap and tell me what you want?”

  Viola pushed away from the table and slinked over to him.

  “What the hell are you wearing?” He opened his arms for her and she settled in.

  “Towels. The first thing you’re getting me is a laptop and a wireless internet connection so I can get some real clothes.”

  “You can use your magic to wear anything you want,” he said.

  Viola straddled him and lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it aside.

  He shut up.

  “And a smart phone—but not too smart. I don’t
want the phone to be more intelligent than me.”

  “Mmmm,” Sergei said, vanishing his pants so the only thing between them was the terry-cloth shorts.

  Viola scrunched up her face and willed the stupid things away. The hot press of his flesh told her she was successful.

  “Very good,” Sergei said. “Extremely good, in fact.”

  He rubbed his cheek over her breasts, his hand clamped on her ass. Tracing his tongue over her nipples, he captured one with a loud sucking sound.

  “Oh,” she whispered, tilting her head back. “Sergei, do you like me?”

  “Yes,” he muttered around her breasts. “I like every inch of you.”

  “Told you so,” she thought to her goat head with a hint of smugness.

  Don’t you feel a little like a whore?

  Viola sighed. “A little.”

  Sergei put his forehead on hers. “What’s the matter?”

  “I want to fuck you without all the voices in my head.”

  To give him credit, he didn’t blink. “How many voices do you have in there?”

  “Right now, just the bitchy red one that sounds like my mother.”

  “Well, there goes a perfectly good hard-on,” he said, quirking a grin.

  Viola took a deep breath. “I want to help Reed and the embassy find the other Queens.”

  She felt him tense under her. “You are helping them. Under safe circumstances.” His calm tone belied the strong emotion she could feel under his skin.

  “It feels like a cop out. Like I should be doing more.” Viola needed to convince him that she needed to be useful. She couldn’t just lie back and take things. She knew what it was like to be on the other end of that type of relationship, and it was soul crushing.

  “How’s your head?” he asked, running a concerned hand over her forehead.

  Viola rubbed her temples. “The headache is gone.”

  “You were bleeding from your eyeballs. You were unconscious for three days.”

  Viola didn’t remember any of that. It sure didn’t sound good. But how many other Queens suffered worse? “I’ll be careful.”

  “How?” he asked, his hands back on her shoulders. If he shook her again, she was going to bite his nose.

  “I’ll get better with practice.” Viola couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “Are you sure about that?”