“Laura, I think you’re using your out loud voice when you mean to use your inside voice,” called a guy from within. As we approached, I saw him leaning against the side wall just beyond the open door. He was bald as a newborn baby and wore a black tank top with loose camouflage pants, though they may have just seemed loose because he was rail thin. He smirked, pulled the toothpick out of his mouth, and looked me over.
“Lance, when I want your opinion, I’ll give it to you,” Laura said, and the look she gave him said she didn’t hate Justin even close to as much as she hated Lance.
“Hi, I’m Lance,” he said, ignoring Laura and offering me his hand. It was covered with grease stains and his nails had a layer of dirt beneath them that made me not want to touch him with someone else’s hand.
I didn’t take his hand. “Sorry.” I looked at the floor, suddenly embarrassed. If everyone asked me to shake, sooner or later I’d either have to do it or I’d piss off someone I shouldn’t. Neither seemed exactly awesome. “I um…”
“Let me guess. You hate white people too?” He cocked a stupid grin at Laura. “Don’t worry. I hate everyone. Sometimes us wolves forget others don’t like to touch. You’re a reader, right? Worried about picking up random stuff.” He looked at his hands. “I mean, you definitely do not want to know where my hands have been.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Unless you do?”
“I do not.” I said, sticking my tongue out.
“Yeah, I don’t compare to the boy toy over there. It’s cool. I’m used to sloppy seconds.” He smirked and clapped Laura on the shoulder, wrinkling her jacket. “Or cold thirds. You know, open for anything.”
Laura’s hand moved so fast I almost didn’t catch what was happening because the next moment Lance was face down on the marble, his arm twisted behind him in a wrist lock. “If you touch me again, King of Thorns, I will tear off your balls and stick them in my purse. Are we clear?”
“Will you do it with your teeth? Because that might be worth—” The rest of his words were cut off by a high-pitched yowl as Laura twisted, effortlessly shattering the bones in his arm. Splinters of bone poked through his skin, spilling blood down around the shredded flesh as she continued to twist the appendage completely around in its socket. Her facial expression hadn’t changed at all and that scared me. A lot.
“You need a lesson in manners.” Laura released him and gestured for us to follow. “I apologize on behalf of the council of nine, reader. We will do our best to make the rest of your visit less.” She gestured at Lance’s writhing form. “Whatever this is.” The way she spoke betrayed an authority I’d heard before. It was the authority that came with knowing you were the absolute strongest person in the room. She had referred to Lance as a King… Justin’s father was also supposed to be a king. Did that make her a Queen?
Oh god, I hoped I was wrong and that we weren’t surrounded by werewolf royalty. If we were, I was so fraking dead. I checked my pocket for the contract before I could stop myself. It was still there, but that wasn’t nearly as comforting as it should have been. Worse, Laura had seen me do it.
“It’s okay,” I said, shaking my head and pulling my hand away from my pocket. “But he’s right. I don’t want to see anything I shouldn’t if I touch you. I don’t want to have an unfortunate accident.”
“You are wise beyond your years, reader. I apologize for my words earlier.” A slight smile brushed across Laura’s lips before disappearing within her cold exterior.
With that she moved past the still writhing Lance and led us toward a door at the far end of the hallway. The hallway itself was immense and lined with carved oak that depicted a huge Chinese dragon wrapped around the entire room from floor to ceiling before ending at the far wall so the gilded door was inside its immense jaws. As we moved forward, the eyes carved into the dragon’s scales seemed to follow us, making it seem like we were being watched from all angles. I’d never seen anything like it before, but as I stared at it, I knew one thing to be true. I was totally going to die.
10
We were ushered into an amphitheater-sized room painted from floor to ceiling in high gloss sea-foam green. Huge marble platforms stood on either side of the entrance and proceeded along every six or so feet before ending abruptly in front of a coral throne. It didn’t look particularly comfortable since sharpened bits jutted out in every direction, and as I peered closer at it, I realized it seemed to have been carved from a single piece of blue coral.
Standing in front of the first seven pillars was a man or woman as varied in appearance as the day is long. The last pillar was conspicuously absent, but if my hunch about Lance had been right, I was willing to bet that was where he’d been supposed to stand.
Sitting on the throne was a long-haired man who looked vaguely like Justin, only much, much older. If I’d had to guess from the wrinkles and the whiteness of his hair, I’d have pegged him at about seventy-five, but with werewolves you could never be too sure. Sometimes they looked a lot younger than they were. It was why most of them looked like they were twenty-five even when they were pushing fifty. If this guy looked this old, I was willing to put money on him celebrating his centennial, maybe two of them. Still, most wolves tended not to live that long. And as Blair had told me, werewolves only gained the throne by fighting for it and they only held it for as long as they could beat down all comers. For him to be this old spoke of a power that scared me intrinsically.
Laura led us forward and Justin followed behind me with his head down. It was so quiet, our footsteps seemed loud in the emptiness of the space. Justin almost reached out to me a couple times but thought better of it for whatever reason. I almost wished he’d just take my hand because as the ice-eyed guy on the throne stared holes in me, I wanted to disappear more than I’d ever wanted anything in my whole life. That was saying something since I’d really wanted that Action Comics #1 Blair had restored for that douche Wall Street guy. Man of Steel be damned.
“Where is the King of Thorns?” the man on the throne said, and his voice seemed to come from every direction and nowhere simultaneously. It hit me like a full-throated roar and brushed against my ears like a whisper. The feeling left me off-balance, and I had to try very hard not to bring the BFG up and train it on him on instinct. As it stood, my grip tightened on it hard enough to hurt.
“He is recovering,” Laura replied and the hint of a smirk tinged her voice. “Would you have him retrieve me anyway?”
“Recovering from what?” asked a raven-haired Asian girl with pink ribbons in her hair. She stood directly to my left opposite the empty pillar. She looked about twelve, and was wearing a stereotypical schoolgirl uniform complete with tie and short skirt that showed off her tweety bird legs. Still, I guess some people were into that. Her hair was cool though.
“He had an unfortunate accident,” Laura replied, her gaze raking over the girl, who to her credit, didn’t so much as flinch. Instead she smacked her lips and blew a huge pink bubble before popping it.
“Please retrieve the King of Thorns, Breaker,” the voice from on high spoke, and as he did, Laura whirled on her heel and stepped past us without so much as a word. I heard the door shut a moment later, casting us in silence so profound, I realized I could hear the hushed breaths of everyone in the room. They were watching me, and all those eyes made me want to fidget. I didn’t because I was trying to act tough, but even I wasn’t this tough.
“Justin, would you assist me?” the man on the throne said, rising to his full height. He was tall and didn’t seem like he required assistance, going by the way his muscles rippled beneath his tailored silk shirt and slacks.
Justin sighed and moved past me. The look in his eyes was plain. He did not enjoy this, and honestly, how could I blame him?
“Yes, father,” Justin said and his footsteps were loud on the gold-flecked marble floor as he strode across the room. It was weird because as I glanced at the faces of everyone in the room, not only were they all informally dressed, as thoug
h they’d all been pulled out of better things to do at once, but at the same time, they all seemed bored as nails.
No one was enjoying this. That wouldn’t go well for me since I was guessing me and my reader abilities were the guests of honors. Holy fuck socks. If they found out I had nothing to show, I’d be screwed. I had to think of something and fast. There was no way I was going to be able to pull off a reading with this many people around watching me like a hawk. Even if I could ignore that, empowering the BFG to fight the ghouls had made the memories of its time with Loraline that much harder to find.
A moment later, Justin and his father moved forward, crossing the distance between me and them at a ponderous pace. It was a touch strange because I could see the muscles moving beneath the old man’s flesh, could feel the power radiate off of him like desert wind. I didn’t doubt for an instant that he was deadly. So why was he acting feeble? I’m sure there was a good answer, but I didn’t know enough about werewolf culture to hazard a guess.
They stopped when they were a few feet from me. The king’s gaze raked over me, and for a second, I felt his power in the air. The smell of warm cinnamon and vanilla hit my nose as it flowed over me, and I gritted my teeth to keep from shivering. He was strong all right. Way too strong for me to even think about taking him on. Hopefully I wouldn’t have to, but then again, I had a BFG.
As his gaze stopped on my face, I maintained eye contact in the way my master had taught me, which was to say, I stared right at his hawkish nose. It was a good thing to do because monsters like vampires were especially hard to deal with when they stared into your eyes. This gave me the pretense of not looking away, but also not staring into his eyes.
Besides, I definitely didn’t want to look the King of Wolves in the eyes. I wasn’t sure what I’d see there, but if I flinched, he’d think I was weak. If he did, well, that might make him attack me.
“Tell me, Annie,” he said like he’d known my name forever. “What have you seen of Loraline’s demise?” He raised one hand and pointed at the BFG.
“A lot less than I’d like.” I shook my head. “Whatever was on here got erased when we were attacked by the ghouls.” I sighed, blowing the breath out through my teeth. “Do you have any other objects? From the other murders?”
“So she’s worthless,” said an albino man. He was on the pillar closest to the throne, and the harsh light in the room wasn’t doing him any favors. Hell, he didn’t even look strong, but if he was that close to the throne, I was guessing he was really fraking strong. Awesome.
“I’m not so sure,” The King of Wolves said, turning toward Justin. “What say you, Prince?”
“I think Annie can break this wide open, but we need to help. If we had the other props—”
“That is the problem,” the albino said, cutting Justin off as he broke rank and took a step forward. He probably would have moved closer, but the king’s glare was ice, and he stopped as if frozen in place.
“How so?” the king asked, genuinely interested. “I was not aware you were on par with the late Mr. Holmes. Tell me, who is our culprit?”
“Aside from the ritualistic nature of the murders and the figurines left behind, all the items at the scenes have been ridiculous.” The albino gestured toward the BFG. “Things like that, of fantasy. We all know what’s going on. There’s an animator. We should be finding him and killing him. As we have always done.”
I stiffened. I couldn’t help it. If what he was saying was true, maybe the killer was an animator like me. Only I was pretty sure there weren’t any others, and even if there were, they’d be hiding like me, not waging a full on war on werewolf royalty. Well, I mean, they could be doing that, but some part of me doubted it. My clan had been cowed for a long time. My brother had been the last person I’d seen try to stand up for himself, and he had died. Horribly.
“That is neither here nor there,” the king replied, waving his hand dismissively as the door behind us opened.
Laura stepped through the entrance, dragging Lance along by his ear. His arm already looked fully healed, but I couldn’t say the same for the bruises on his face. With an unceremonious shove, she sent him colliding into the last pillar, whereupon he slumped bonelessly to the floor.
“I have produced the King of Thorns.” Laura gestured toward Lance before dropping into a kneel on the tile. It was somewhat awe-inspiring since she was wearing a tight skirt and I’d never have managed such a pose in one, but I was guessing she had a lot of practice if she really was the Breaker.
To be fair, I only knew of them through rumor since they almost never went out in public. Their whole purpose was to break the enemies of the King or Queen. They were strong and afforded responsibility as such, but they were also expendable. It was sort of like being given ten million dollars to do whatever you wanted while knowing you could die at any time over the next few days.
“Thank you, Breaker,” the king said, nodding toward her. “Alabaster thinks an animator is responsible for the murders. What say you?”
“I would say it is likely, but for the life of me, I cannot figure out the plan.” Laura kept her eyes cast down at the floor as she spoke. “I do not know why sons and daughters of those in this room would be targeted.” She took a deep breath. “Our crowns are not carried via heredity, but via might. Killing our seconds would make more sense.” She shook our head. “That has not been the case.”
As she spoke, a bad feeling crept over me, one I tried to tamp down before it could fully manifest, but as it did, I realized I needed to get the frak out of here right now. My old master had once had a plan that involved a curse that could be carried out via bloodlines.
“Sorry, I um… I can’t help you.” I took a step back as I tried to turn and move toward the door. Before I made it more than a few steps, the king seized my arm, and as he did, I felt the familiar energy pulse of werewolf fill me. I also knew it meant he knew what I was too.
11
I expected a million things to all happen at once. The king should have pulled me close and snapped my neck as I brought the BFG up in a desperate attempt to chainsaw bayonet his ancient ass. That is not what happened.
As I started to move, he settled his ice cold stare on me. I froze in place, my hand still clenched around the BFG. The whisper of magic I’d been about to push into the weapon melted away on my lips as he raised a curious eyebrow at me.
“I think you can help me.” His voice carried a burst of power that leapt across my skin like icy grasshoppers before settling onto my shoulders like a thousand-ton iceberg. My knees started to shake, and I wanted to melt into a puddle. Cold seeped into my bones and as I exhaled the breath I hadn’t realized had been trapped in my lungs, he added a final, loaded word. “Reader.”
“Wait, what?” I said in a confused burst of sound. His grip on my arm loosened and heat filled in the space where he’d been touching me. It was unlike anything that had ever happened to me and that was very, very scary.
And it meant fuck all because I barely noticed it. No, I was stuck on that final word. He knew what I was. He had to know what I was because his power should have told him. So why had he called me a Reader? No, he should have said Animator. Why didn’t he? Why?
My fists tightened on the gun, and his gaze shifted precariously from my eyes to the BFG and back again.
It was then that Justin intervened, somehow interposing himself between his father and me. It was weird because his touch was a veritable furnace against my ice-cold skin. My gooseflesh receded and a strange sense of calm and warmth filled me from the pit of my being. Was that coming from Justin?
As Justin opened his mouth to say something, his brain seemed to catch up to his lips. No doubt he’d been expecting a different outcome and that surprise made his mouth fall open and hang there like he was a gasping fish.
“Justin, please take the reader to my private chambers so she may examine the items from the rest of the scenes in peace.” His gaze shifted from the pair of us to the a
ssembled wolves. “I trust that will be all right. Laura will inform you of our next meeting. If you have any concerns, please, don’t hesitate to keep them to yourselves.”
As his words echoed through the hallway, he vanished in a swirl of darkness that reminded me of a black hole suddenly called into being. As the spots cleared from my eyes, I was left wondering how the frak he’d teleported away since werewolves weren’t supposed to be able to use magic… at least not like that. No, all my dealings with them had pointed to a more earthen magic, like the druids but more, I don’t know… green-peacey.
This was not that by so much it was fraking insane.
Evidently, I was the only one who found it odd because the others assembled in the room just made their way out. The only one who even gave me more than a passing glance was the albino. The hatred in his eyes was so severe it would have made me wilt if Justin wasn’t already leading me away. Yes, I know. I should have just left on my own power. I should have walked the frak out of there, jumped on the first bus, and never looked back for even a second.
The only thing stopping me from doing that was Justin’s hand on my shoulder. It guided me, but it didn’t force me. He could have done so. He could have done any number of things, but he’d also stepped in front of the King of Wolves to protect me. Besides, one thing was perfectly clear. The king had known what I was and lied like the dog he was. I needed to know why.
If he was hiding that, maybe he was hiding more. Maybe… No, I shook the thought away before it could take root. My clan had been wiped out… hadn’t it?
Laura appeared a few feet away from us, and it took me a moment to realize we were standing in front of a door. It merged seamlessly with the wall, and if she hadn’t opened it for us, I’m not sure I’d have noticed it was there.
As Justin led us through the opening and into the brightly lit hallway beyond, Laura leaned in close to me.
Throne to the Wolves: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Spell Slinger Chronicles Book 1) Page 7
