The Warlock Queen

by Quinn Loftis

  “So, we’re just supposed to do nothing?” Shehan asked.

  “No.” Cain spoke up. “She said we couldn’t attack them. There is much we can do for the next four months. For starters, I can get to work on replenishing our vampire numbers.

  “And, as Alston pointed out, we are only as strong as our weakest warrior. Our members need to be training … every day, all day.”

  Myanin felt the walls closing in on her. The control she’d regained over the magic was attempting to slip through her fingers, but she clenched her hands into fists and locked it down. It wasn’t uncommon for a young—much younger than her—djinn to have momentary loss of control of their power. Granted, that was before she’d taken on the power of an elder, but she was beyond that. And she knew it wasn’t just her power that she was having problems with. The power she’d stolen from Lyra was determined to escape or gut her from the inside out. But even still, she wasn’t about to let that turn her into an adolescent. Myanin took several deep breaths as ideas ran through her mind. There was no way she was getting trapped here, working like a dog, sparring constantly with other supernatural beings. She’d go crazy. Her mind moved quickly as she considered her options. She had to maintain the farce that she was completely in support of the Order, for now. An idea struck just as Ludcarab looked her way.

  “The Great Luna said we can’t attack.” She blurted before the elf king could address her. “But she didn’t say we couldn’t keep an eye on them. It would be foolish of us not to surveil our enemy, even if they’re supposedly mourning their dead.” Again, she didn’t give the king time to speak.

  “I will be the Order’s eyes and ears. I’ll keep watch on our enemy and report back what I learn.” It was a simple statement of her intention, not a request for permission. She wasn’t about to set the precedent that she needed his approval for anything.

  “How magnanimous of you,” Ludcarab said, the suspicion in his voice evident. “How do you know the Great Luna won’t consider that an act of aggression?”

  “She specifically used the word attack,” Myanin replied, careful to keep her disdain in check. Once upon a time, he might have been an elf king, but he was not her king, and being questioned as if she was one of his subjects rubbed her the wrong way. “I’m not going to harm them. I will simply be a hidden observer.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Alston interjected. “I will assign her a fae so she can travel easily.”

  “While you’re out and about,” Cain said as he turned his chair slowly to look at her, “you could make yourself doubly useful by bringing in some human flock for changing.” His lips turned up in a smile revealing his sharp incisors that made Myanin’s stomach turn. She wouldn’t mind seeing those fangs ripped out of his smirking face.

  She could see the challenge as her eyes darted between Cain, Alston, and Ludcarab. They were testing her. If she said no, then she looked disloyal. Damn she hated them. “Sure,” she said simply, because if she said more it would likely end with her destroying the building and everyone in it.

  A moment later, a female fae entered the room. Pale yellow hair, braided on the sides, hung down past her waist. Her dull green eyes met Alston’s. “You called?” The woman’s voice was calm but tight. She doesn’t like Alston, which means I already like her.

  “Tenia”—Alston motioned toward Myanin—“you will take this djinn—”

  “Myanin,” she practically spat the words at the elder fae. “I have a name.”

  Alston sighed. “Of course. Tenia, you will take Myanin where she needs to go in order to keep an eye on our enemies. Both of you will report back at least once a week.”

  Myanin did not like the idea of having any kind of stipulation placed upon her by the Order. It was as if she could physically feel Alston attempting to put restraints around her wrists and tie her hands together, or worse, putting a collar on her as if she were a dog he could lead around. But she had no good reason to argue without appearing suspicious.

  “As you wish,” Tenia said, though it sounded to Myanin as if what the woman was really saying was “screw you.” Yes, now I’m sure I like her. Which was a good thing. Myanin was going to be spending some time with Tenia, and she didn’t want to have to kill the fae if she didn’t have to.

  “We will leave immediately,” Myanin said, turning on her heel and marching to the door.

  “Remember who holds your pledge of loyalty,” Ludcarab said before Myanin’s foot could cross the threshold.

  She paused. It was probably only a couple of seconds, but it felt longer as she considered turning around and simply letting go of all the control she’d been constantly reminding herself to maintain. She pictured fire racing across the floor, reaching the elf king's feet and moving slowly up his body. It would be a slow burn. The flames would move at her command, consuming him one inch at a time. She would allow the fire to be hot enough that his flesh would melt like candle wax before it began to burn him to ash. He wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it, and if anyone moved to attack her or help him, she’d simply give the fire more paths, more substance to feed it. She relished the imagined screams that would be ripped from him as he burned. She smirked at the picture of shock and terror that would fill the eyes of the onlookers, wondering if they were next. Someone cleared their throat, and suddenly Myanin was no longer inside her “burn the bastard to the ground” fantasy. Slowly, as if she needed to make sure she wouldn’t actually act out her momentary lapse in judgment, she turned to glance over her shoulder, meeting the elf king’s eyes. “You remember that I am only here because I want to be. That can change in the blink of an eye. Don’t try to control me, elf king. It won’t end well for you.” Before Ludcarab could respond, a hand grabbed Myanin’s arm. She was just about to violently remove it when she suddenly found herself standing outside the building. The fae let her go and stepped quickly away.

  Myanin gathered her power, feeling it well up inside of her like a dam breaking, rushing into the dry space below. She drew back her fist, about to send the offending fae through the wall of the building and beyond.

  Tenia held up her hands. “I meant no disrespect, Myanin. I just felt it was better if we got out of there before Ludcarab, and Alston for that matter, felt the need to attempt to put you in your place.”

  “Attempt being the key word,” Myanin said as she lowered her arm, sucked in a deep breath, pictured the dam once again sealed up tight, then let the breath out slowly before adding, “Never feel the need to protect me, fae. And don’t expect any favors from me, either. You’ve thrown in your lot with these people. You get what you deserve.”

  The female fae cleared her throat, and Myanin sensed the woman was about to somehow justify herself. Instead, the fae swallowed hard and held out a hand. “Of course,” she said. “But as we’re going to be traveling partners for the foreseeable future, perhaps we should proceed with the mutual respect of warriors.” She held out a hand. “I’m Tenia.”

  I can respect that. Myanin stared at the offered hand for a second before nodding and clasping the woman’s forearm. “I’m Myanin.” Tenia wrapped her own hand around the djinn’s forearm.

  “Where to first?” Tenia asked, getting straight to business. Apparently the fae wasn’t into idle chit chat. Myanin liked her even more.

  “We must make a crucial supply run before our surveillance can begin,” Myanin told her as she shifted from foot to foot. This time it wasn’t the stolen magic in her feeding the internal angst. It was the addiction to her favorite human food. Myanin felt as if she might just claw the eyes out of the next person that walked too close because she just wanted a bite. She wanted that delicious taste melting in her mouth, soothing at least one of her aches. “I need cotton candy, and I need it yesterday.”

  Tenia tilted her head to the side and frowned. “Cotton candy?”

  “Please, don't tell me you are unaware of the confection,” Myanin said, her voice sounding ridiculously annoyed even to her own ears. “There’s no wa
y you’ve spent time in the human realm and not at least heard of it. And if you’ve never partaken of the melt-in-your-mouth sweetness, then I must ask why the hell you stay here?” Myanin didn’t completely understand what it was about the dessert that held her under its thrall. Yes, it was delicious. Yes, she loved the way it seemed to disintegrate effortlessly in her mouth, leaving her tongue watering for more, but there was something else about it that called to her. Maybe it was the simplicity of it. It wasn’t multiple tastes that the brain had to break down and work through. It was one taste, one goodness, pure in its singularity. Maybe it was the fact that its attraction drew young and old alike. When she’d first come across it and saw those waiting in line to get their own bag, the look of the excitement in the eyes of the children matched that of the older humans as well. It was as if it represented all the things she could no longer see in herself, sweetness, goodness, and purity. Maybe if she ate more of it, she would be able to regain those qualities.

  “I’ve been in the human realm quite some time,” the fae said slowly. “I am aware of the sugary substance. That just wasn’t what I was expecting you to say.”

  “I’m full of surprises. Now, please transport me to Venice Beach Boardwalk.”

  “I can do that,” Tenia said. “Or we could just go to a grocery store.”

  “Is that the marketplace where humans purchase their cellular telephones?” Myanin asked with narrowed eyes as she recalled her first experience in a department store.

  “No, it’s a place where humans purchase food,” Tenia explained.

  “And this supply of food will include cotton candy?” Myanin knew she probably sounded a bit crazy. Even she could hear the desperation in her voice. But far too much time had passed since she’d last imbibed. There had been an exceedingly unnecessary amount of BS--a term she’d learned from one of the fae warriors--spouted and time wasted when they had needed to focus on more important issues. She needed cotton candy...now.

  “Yes, the grocery store should have cotton candy,” Tenia said. “If they don’t, then I will take you to Venice Beach.”

  “Very well,” Myanin said and held out her arm. “After I have eaten my fill of the cotton candy, then we shall make our way to the wolves.”

  “You sound like the fae who become addicted to the leena flower,” Tenia said, with humor in her voice.

  “Does this flower taste like cotton candy?” Myanin narrowed her eyes at Tenia. The more appropriate question was probably “Can it fill the growing emptiness inside of me?” But Myanin wasn’t about to turn her mental analysis of her addiction to the food into a public conversation.

  “The leena flower takes the flavor of your favorite food. So, in your case, it probably would taste like cotton candy. But it also gives you a feeling of euphoria. Some fae can ingest it freely and never become addicted. Others are not so lucky. One taste and they cannot live without it.”

  “Hmm,” Myanin huffed. She already had enough she couldn’t live without, like guilt. She didn’t need to add another thing. “The candy of cotton gives me all the euphoria I need.” Lies, her voice purred in her mind, but she ignored it. “Lead on, fae.” She held out a hand, which Tenia took and flashed them to a parking lot. Myanin glanced around and saw a square building. No surprise there. The humans continued to show a complete lack of creativity with respect to the shape of their important public structures.

  “We better stock up,” Tenia said. “I don’t think daily trips to the grocery store for cotton candy will be the most efficient use of our time.” She removed a small piece of fabric from her pocket, no larger than the palm of her hand, and began to unfold it. In a few seconds, the fabric transformed into a backpack that appeared large enough to carry an arsenal of weapons … or a couple armloads of cotton candy.

  “Okay,” Myanin said. “That was impressive.”

  Tenia smiled. “I have my perks. But it’s better than that.”

  “It’s better than a pack that folds up to the size of a three-inch piece of fabric?”

  Tenia nodded. “It has a nifty trick. It holds whatever I tell it to, as much as I tell it to.”

  As soon as the implications of the fae’s words hit her, Myanin’s lips turned up in a slow smile. “We’re going to make this store our bitch. And then we’re going to make Venice Beach our second bitch.”

  Tenia’s brow dipped. “I’ve heard that phrase before, but I don’t know if you’re using it correctly.”

  Myanin shrugged as she headed for the doors of the store. “Don’t care. All you need to know is that we’re about to clean this place out of all the cotton candy it has.” Myanin was grinning like a djinn child who’d just been handed their first weapon. It must have been a scary sight because humans she passed turned quickly away. That was fine with her. She was on a mission, and it ended with sweet pink and blue concoction melting in her mouth. She pitied the person who got in her way.

  Chapter 3

  “If ever there was a time that I had to seriously reach to channel my inner queen, not that I knew I had an inner queen, it was now.” ~Lilly

  * * *

  Lilly stood rigid outside the doors to the great hall, her shoulders pulled back, gaze fixed upon the wood as if she could see through it. The queen had already been standing there motionless for way too long, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to lift her hand to open the door. She could hear the muted conversations of her guests within. Two guards stood on either side of the doors. They were equally motionless, staring ahead. She’d waved off their attempt to open the doors for her.

  For whatever reason, Lilly needed to be the one to open the doors and break the seal of the room, like breaking a dam that held her entire future behind it. She must be the one to choose to step into that room, to face those who would either support her or try to bury her. You can do this. You have to do this. You will do this. Before she had time to second-guess herself, Lilly grasped the handle and pulled. The low murmur of voices stopped, and all eyes turned to her. Her stomach dropped. The air rushed out of her, and she bit her lip to keep the gasp from escaping. The force of their gazes froze her in her tracks. Her eyes darted around the room. Lilly saw everything from curiosity to contempt in the faces of the strangers seated at the U-shaped table.

  A second glance brought her eyes to a figure standing motionless in the back of the room. It was him. Her mate. He stood regal and proud, his yellow, piercing eyes looking straight at her. She drank him in—his broad shoulders, his powerful arms, arms that had held her close less than a month ago. Her mind was flooded with a tidal wave of memories. She knew he must only be a figment of her imagination, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to spring across the room and prove herself wrong.

  He was every bit as stunning as he had been the first time she’d seen him. But he wasn’t really there. After the meeting, when she returned to their chambers, he wouldn’t be joining her. He wouldn’t help her undress and then pull her into bed whispering sweet words into her ear. She wouldn’t feel his lips or smell his masculine scent. As much as seeing this mirage was a welcome breath of air, it was also a form of torture. What she wanted—what she needed—was just out of her reach. Life was a bitch, and then it kicked you in the junk. Those were words she’d heard Jacque say when Trent had broken up with her. She’d never agreed more with her daughter.

  “You can do this.” His voice filled her mind, repeating what she’d already told herself. “I know you can. Now, prove it to them.”

  “But what if I can’t?” she thought, as if he could actually hear her.

  “I know you better than that, beloved. You’re a fighter. You don’t give up, and you don’t lay down and die.”

  “My queen?”

  Lilly turned her head at the sound of Gerick’s voice and saw him gesturing to her. She looked back quickly, hoping against hope. But it was too late. The spot where Cypher had been standing was empty. She let out a long breath.

  “Your seat,” Gerick said.

&nb
sp; She looked to where he pointed. At the head of the U-shaped table sat a single smaller table with a large, ornate chair. My throne. She didn’t know if she wanted to sit in it or push it out the window and throw herself out after it. “Thank you,” she said, relieved her voice hadn’t trembled.

  She walked up to the table but didn’t sit. Taking a deep breath, she slowly looked around the room and met the eyes of each person sitting. There were twenty people total, including Gerick and four more of her warriors. “Thank you for joining me in a meal,” Lilly said. She let her eyes pause on each man and the only other female present. “I want to offer my condolences for the loss of your king, my mate, and to some of you, possibly a friend and family member. Cypher was an honorable man, a respected king, and a fierce warrior.”

  To her surprise, everyone in the room stood. They placed their arms across their chests with their hands curled in a fist resting over their hearts. “May he rest in the eternal peace he’s been granted,” they said in one voice.

  They remained standing, and when Lilly glanced at Gerick he motioned with his eyes to the chair. She lifted her chin and took her seat. The others followed suit. When everyone was seated, Gerick lifted a hand to the warlocks lining the walls on either side of the room. Each manned a rolling cart, and they pushed them to the table, then placed covered dishes in front of each guest.

  After everyone else had been served, the last cart was rolled over to Lilly, and her plate was set in front of her. Again, everyone stared in anticipation. “Please,” she said as she motioned with her hands out in front of her. “Eat.” They seemed confused for a moment, and Lilly wasn’t sure what queenly tradition or social convention she had missed, but she certainly wasn’t going to ask. Thankfully, Gerick uncovered his food and picked up his fork. That seemed to be all the encouragement her guests needed. Movement rippled across the table as they uncovered their food and started eating.