Steam Union

by Patti Larsen

  Pieces.

  Oh. My. Swearword.

  Was I reading too much into this? But no. Trinol warned me there were others seeking the fragments of Creator. And there was no way she used that terminology by accident. But she was a vampire, unable to travel to other worlds.

  Who was she working with? And why? Max’s comment about her not being a goddess made me shudder.

  “Is that what you’re after, Mao?” I didn’t speak much above a pitying whisper. “Why you summoned me in the first place? Not to defend Sunny, or even to meet me, but to assess what I could be worth to you? What the essence could do for you?” My vampire hissed softly inside me. “And to follow me, to find the pieces yourself. To become Creator after all?”

  She looked away, shivered. “Take what you’ve come for,” she said. “This particular move of the game is over.”

  She disappeared in a shudder of shadow, leaving Piotr to stare after her in fury and horror. When he turned and met my eyes, his fear won.

  “Where is she?” I had no qualms about shaking him until his bones fell out of his miserable skin. Eva lunged between us, just saving him from an eternity of agony, but not for long. I’d take them both on, no problem. “Get out of the way,” I said, right in her face. “You really don’t want to make me angrier than I already am.”

  Piotr backed up, almost ran into the steps leading to his throne. “They were planning to attack me,” he said, faint hysteria in his voice. “Plotting to kill me. With her.” He stabbed an index finger at Sunny.

  “My dear, dear Piotr,” Sunny said in her mildest, sweetest voice, “you matter so little to me I can’t imagine caring what happened to you one way or another.”

  Piotr twitched, turned to look for support from his family of vampires, but none of them would meet his eyes. I wondered as horror dawned on his face if he was just realizing how deeply the control of the Brotherhood ran and could only imagine that was the case. I felt the power controlling him flee, leaving him barren and alone, facing all of us without even the push of the Brotherhood to keep him afloat.

  “It’s not my fault!” He screamed the words at me. Charlotte bounded past me in wolf form, hit him full in the chest, drove him back onto the steps with a thud. She stood over him, lupine body shaking as she howled in his face.

  He tried to fight her, sparks of spirit magic singing her fur but she held him down, her own rainbow light, so much like mine, smothering his energy with hers. She half shifted into werewolf shape and snarled.

  “Where is Yana?”

  Piotr wailed softly. “Bring her!”

  A handful of vampires scrambled from the room, running, I hoped, to fetch the werewolf queen. Charlotte didn’t move while we waited, her jaws drooling strings of steaming saliva onto his pale skin.

  I spun at the sound of footsteps, turned with my stomach clenching tight at the sight of Yana being led toward us.

  Correction. Carried, her head slumped forward, body emaciated even after a short stint in the care of the vampires. Such a dramatic change from just earlier this morning when I’d seen her with Danilo. Charlotte howled and spun, racing for her sister-in-law as the vampires holding her let her go and dove back out of my werefriend’s reach. But it didn’t matter. She wasn’t interested in them, not when Yana began to fall. Charlotte shifted to human, tatters of what remained of her clothing whispering around her as she gently eased her queen to the floor.

  I fell to my knees beside her, reaching out with power to support the fallen werequeen. Her eyes flickered open, caught mine a moment, a whisper escaping her.

  “The baby,” Yana said. “Save the baby.”

  I pushed magic into her, but there was nothing to anchor it to—except the unborn child. Yana was lost, I knew that already. From the faint puncture wounds on her skin, still unhealed, she’d been drained over and over again, on purpose, weakened to the point of death. But her mother’s heart refused to quit, focusing everything she had left on the child still living in her wasted and dying body.

  Syd. Femke’s power latched onto me. We need to go. Now.

  And let him get away with this? I spun to glare up at her.

  No, she sent, tears in her eyes. Because if we don’t get Yana to Danilo immediately, she’ll die before she gets to say goodbye. And he’ll never forgive us for that.

  Damn. It. All. To hell and back again.

  I swept to my feet, continually feeding magic into the fading wolf in Yana’s soul as I spun on Eva, Piotr and the rest of the Wilhelm clan.

  “This isn’t over,” I said. “And when I come back, you’d better be ready to hurt.”

  The veil swallowed us before I could change my mind and personally wipe the smirk from Eva Southway’s face.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Three

  I don’t know what I was thinking, what carried me, not to Femke’s office, but the throne room at the werepalace. Charlotte vanished the moment we emerged, and I could only guess she went for her brother.

  My power eased Yana to the floor, her body shriveling almost before my eyes. Wereguards crowded close, their fury and fear a weight on me I finally had to push back with almost violent force. They retreated, more so when the air split and Danilo came roaring through, Charlotte on his heels.

  Femke stepped back, allowed him past, but closed the gap again to keep the others away. Danilo fell to his knees, arms slipping tenderly around his wife as she looked up into his eyes, body straining. A wet, tearing sound twisted my stomach in a knot, a flood of blood and amniotic fluid rushing out from under her dress. Sympathy pains fed by experience made my entire body clench while Charlotte dove forward, hands scrambling to retrieve the tiny baby, her own power pulsing into the child as her extended claw cut the cord. She bent over her sister-in-law, laid the softly squalling infant on her chest, gore spreading from between Yana’s legs to puddle at my feet.

  “Saved her,” she said with a faint smile of triumph. And died, sighing out Danilo’s name with her last breath.

  I stood there in a pool of blood, tears streaming down my cheeks, as the werewolves raised their heads to match their king and howled their grief.

  ***

  I sat on the bottom step of the broad, sweeping staircase to the upper levels, the carpet soft under me. My sneakers were clean again, the blood magicked away because I simply couldn’t stand to have Yana’s death on me. I wiped at my raw nose, my sore cheeks, too much crying leaving me chapped inside and out. Soft footsteps descended behind me, the owner of them pausing to sit next to me and take my hand.

  “I’m sorry,” Femke said. And that was all she needed to say.

  We sat there a long time, in silence, just holding hands, my power hugging her and hers me. All the anger and frustration, the blame and shame, was gone. I missed her, I realized, more than I wanted to admit.

  “I’m worried about him.” Femke cleared her throat, a soft, apologetic sound.

  Danilo. “So am I.” There was no way now he wasn’t going after the vampires. This was so many kinds of bad I could barely stand it. “We could appeal to the Empress,” I said. “Or just go in there and excise Piotr’s ass. Give him to Danilo. That might take care of the honor thing.”

  Femke shook her head, biting her lower lip. “You know we can’t do that,” she said. “I won’t start a war between nations by delivering a vampire king to the leader of the werewolves. No matter what he’s done. But.” She sighed in irritation, releasing my hand. Damn, were we fighting again? But she ran both through her hair, fingers shaking. So, no. She just needed the outlet. “Arresting his ass? You better believe it.” I gaped at her a moment. She what? “Already done.” Well, what did I know? She met my eyes as I processed that and wondered what the Empress thought of Femke’s move. “You saddled me with this job,” she said, accusation in the words, but not her tone. “And I have to follow the rules, Syd. We can put him on trial for murdering Yana and the other werewolves. But answering one death with another without following protocol is inviti
ng a bigger mess than either of us is prepared to deal with.” Pain in her blue eyes pushed my empathy to the surface.

  “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. I wish there was another way.” And I’d settle for his arrest. For now.

  She shook her head with a soft laugh. “We both know there wasn’t,” she said with great dignity. “And thank you for trusting me.”

  “Just don’t get my husband killed,” I said with a weary smile of my own. “And it’s all good.”

  She opened her mouth, grief on her face, but I knew what she was going to say and waved her off before she could say it.

  “He’s a big boy,” I said. “And, like you, perfect for the job.”

  Heavy footfalls interrupted us, Piers thudding his way down the steps with Charlotte padding along silently beside him. The pair came to a halt at the bottom, swinging around to face us. From the expressions they shared, they had been talking and were in complete concord. I just hoped they’d thought through what they were about to say.

  “This assault can’t be ignored,” Charlotte said, all cold and collected, which meant she was dying inside at failing her brother.

  “As we see it,” Piers said while Sunny drifted past me to observe, quiet and withdrawn, “this is partially my issue to deal with. My mother has clearly aligned with our enemies and, for all I know, was part of the plot against the werenation.”

  A terrible worry gnawed on my innards. “Piers,” I said, voice flat and angry. “Tell me you didn’t know Eva would be there.”

  Wouldn’t you know? He refused to meet my eyes. The only thing that saved him from a solid punch in the chest was my werefriend.

  “And,” Charlotte said, interrupting my need to throttle Piers for keeping damned secrets when he knew better, “it is my issue, and that of my people, to avenge the unlawful death of the queen of our nation.”

  Femke sighed softly, tilted her head toward Sunny. “Any other takers in the blame department?”

  “Indeed,” my beautiful, undead aunt said. “If I hadn’t lost my throne to Piotr, if I’d been stronger and braver about eliminating him instead of allowing him to undermine me out of an old sense of loyalty, Queen Yana would still be alive and this would not be an issue.” She shrugged her graceful shoulders.

  While I was an equal opportunity guilter, the three of them really needed to get a grip.

  “Listen up,” I said. “This is the Brotherhood, and you all know it.” Three blank stares. “Their attempt to get us to fight amongst ourselves.” Totally not getting through to them. “And if you start a war over this, you’ll be handing us all over to them.”

  Crickets.

  Lovely.

  “Does that mean you won’t help us?” Charlotte’s rigid fury spoke volumes. I’d never said no to her before. But, like Femke, I was seeing the bigger picture here.

  Way to be a grown up, Syd.

  “Piotr and Eva will be dealt with,” Femke said. “The king of the Wilhelm Blood Clan is in custody as we speak and will face justice.”

  “Let me guess,” Piers said, bitterness almost tangible. “My mother escaped.”

  “For now,” Femke said with such confidence behind those two words even I felt better. “I promise you she will be found and arrested and will stand trial if she’s had a part in this.” Femke stared the three down a moment, letting her assurances sink in. “But we must do this the right way. Through the Council. Or we lose everything we’ve built.”

  “You know we’ll act with or without your permission,” Piers said, flat and cold.

  Femke nodded. “And if you interfere with due process or try to have my prisoner killed while in custody, I’ll have you arrested.”

  Okay, that was going a little too far. “Deep breaths,” I said. “Let’s do it Femke’s way.” Charlotte’s denial was swift and violent, a shake of her head, flare of power in her eyes. I’ll make sure she lets you execute him when he’s found guilty, I sent directly into her mind.

  Somehow, Femke caught it. She stared at me in shock tinged with horror. Syd.

  You really want to deny her family that? Femke turned at last and nodded heavily to Charlotte who seemed to latch onto that promise like a drowning woman to a life buoy.

  I rose to my feet, sighed, when Charlotte’s wolf flared in agreement. “You two,” I said, pointing at Piers and Sunny. “I’m counting on both of you to keep the mess to a minimum.” I knew if Piers caught his mother first, there would be no trial, no Femke. Though I worried harming Eva might do him irreparable harm. They both nodded, Piers surly, Sunny thoughtful and quiet. I turned my back on them to ascend the stairs. If it weren’t for the wellbeing of my friends, I could care less if accidents happened to Piotr Wilhelm and Eva Southway.

  They’d have to wait. Right now I had the heavy task of talking to the mourning wereking before I could go home. And I really wasn’t looking forward to our conversation.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Four

  I stopped at the top of the stairs, hesitating to break through the crowd of waiting werewolves who hovered, heads down, emitting rage and fear as they waited outside their king’s quarters. Gritting my teeth against opposition, I slipped into the press of bodies and was surprised when they parted for me easily, sliding out of the way with slow nods of acceptance at my presence.

  By the time I traveled down the hall and to Danilo’s door, I was shaken by the eerie silence, the only sound the occasional chops licking from the half turned wereguards standing watch. They parted to allow me to enter, closing the door softly behind me.

  A pair of familiar faces looked up at my entry, heads rising from their whispered conversation. The former Council healer twins, Lula and Phon Kennecott, smiled faintly at me, as identical as fraternal siblings could be. Matching hazel eyes watched me cross the elaborately decorated room, passing Victorian furniture and approaching the vast, marble clad fireplace where they waited.

  Lula ducked her head to me as I joined them, hand squeezing mine. I’d called them immediately after the death of the queen, wishing I’d done so earlier, though knowing even these two with their immense talent couldn’t have saved her any more than I could. She’d simply given up too much to save her daughter.

  “The baby?” My heart constricted with worry, though I’d heard her soft, mewling cries as she lay on her mother’s dead breast. Still, the trauma Yana went through could have adversely affected the child in some developmental way.

  “Healthy and whole,” Phon said in his soft tenor voice. “She’ll be fine. Her mother saved her life.”

  I sagged slightly in relief. Bad enough Danilo lost Yana. But if the baby had been harmed… this way, maybe we’d be able to convince him to keep his revenge to Piotr and not focus it on the entire vampire race.

  “Thanks, you two,” I said. They nodded.

  “We didn’t do much,” Lula said. “But I think Danilo was happy to see us.” She jerked her chin in the direction of the next door, leading from the sitting room and into the bed chamber. “He’s waiting for you.”

  Why did that make my jaw jump? I left the pair and crossed to the bedroom door, knocking softly with my hand while pushing out a bit of magic as warning before slipping it open and easing my way through. I closed it as softly as I could, eyes searching the room. Past the massive, canopied bed in rich purple velvet, the elaborately carved posts carrying the drape, the textured, woven carpet on the floor. My gaze flittered over the dark stained wooden walls covered in landscapes and bits of armor and swords.

  I found the faces I sought tucked in the corner near the balcony doors. Even the massive bodies of the two men I approached seemed dwarfed by the enormous size of the room, the king himself diminished where he sat, hunched and silent, shoulders shaking, in a wingback chair.

  His mother, Olena, sat next to him, cradling one of his big hands between her smaller ones. She looked up first, nodded to me. I always saw Charlotte in her, unlike Danilo. Here was my werefriend’s blonde hair and blue eyes, nothing li
ke her dark haired son and mountain of muscle and bone that was her father, Oleksander. The former king of the werenation rose and came to me, engulfing me in his arms. His silvery beard felt coarse against my cheek as he bent to kiss me softly, before leading me toward his grieving grandson.

  “Sydlynn.” Olena’s accent was stronger than Charlotte’s, thick but elegant. “We will always be grateful for your assistance in freeing Yana from the vampire scourge.” The wolf in her flared in her eyes.

  Exactly what I was hoping wouldn’t be her attitude. But she and Danilo had spent a long time trapped in the bodies of wolves, Olena decades, so I suppose it was understandable she carried a grudge, though the vampires had nothing to do with her entrapment. They were just more animal—and ruthless—than even the rest of the werenation.

  “I wish I could have done more,” I said, choking up as I spoke. I had to clear my throat, look away from Olena before I could go on. “Yana was so courageous. She committed everything she had—she and her wolf together—to saving her daughter.” I turned and met Danilo’s eyes as he slowly raised his head. Winced at the smoldering fury there. “A true werequeen.”

  He nodded to me, free hand tightening on the arm of the chair so much the wood beneath cracked with a sharp rapport. “She will be avenged in blood and fire,” he said.

  About that. I had to be so careful here it wasn’t even funny. One slip, one out of place word, and Danilo would refuse to listen to me. Hell, for all I knew he was already too far gone to take in a word I said. From the matching anger in his mother, I feared I’d lost already. Only Oleksander seemed more grief stricken than furious, hovering behind Danilo’s chair with his deep set eyes locked on me.

  “I fear there are larger concerns here, great king.” Cautiously, Syd. Oh, so cautiously. Appeal to the monarch in him and not the vengeful husband. His nostrils flared in response to my words.