Filed to story: Court of the Vampire Queen Novel???
No. That’s not true. From the moment I met Malachi, and then the others, they’ve been dangerous to me. One bite taken too far could end my life. It’s something none of us have really spoken at great lengths about, but we’ve all been aware of it. This is different.
I’ve never been dangerous to them.
When Wolf finally sits back, Malachi levels a look at me. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now, we need to discuss our next step with Cornelius.”
I start to argue that we need to talk about it now, but his rationale makes sense. If we don’t survive the fight with my father, it won’t matter that I’m dangerous to them, because we’ll all be captive or dead. What a cheerful thought.
Rylan huffs out a breath. “Why don’t we start with where we are? Did you figure out the state or the town, at least?”
“Still Montana. Best I can tell, it’s the next town over from the compound.”
“Azazel didn’t take us far.” Wolf shakes his head, a grin pulling at his lips. “That wily bastard.”
Malachi nods. “We won’t fly under the radar for long. We have to move while Cornelius is still scrambling to search for us.”
Every time he says my father’s name, I have to fight back a flinch. He’s no demon to be summoned by speaking his name, but I can’t shake the strangely superstitious feeling that we shouldn’t say it. I swallow past my fear. “Even if I kill him publicly, what’s to stop my siblings from finishing what he started? They’ve all had their powers for years at this point. I won’t win in an endless string of duels.” Our plan had seemed so reasonable—if a long shot—when we put it together on the run after escaping Malachi’s house. My time with Grace poking holes in it has only made me doubt myself. My father is powerful. He stopped Rylan, who is a bloodline vampire who can change his entire form, with a single word.
Seraph or no, my father can compel me to do whatever the hell he wants if he gets a chance to speak.
“It has to be public. Witnesses. You have to take control of the entire compound with one shot by killing him by doing it bloody enough that they won’t challenge you. He’s already primed them to fall in line when faced with a strong leader. We just have to convince them that you’re that strong leader.”
I give Malachi the look that statement deserves. Most of my siblings considered me beneath their notice while I was growing up, and I preferred it that way—fewer people who wanted to kick me when I was down. That might have benefited me growing up, but it hardly primed them to follow me as a leader. “The only chance we have is an attack he doesn’t see coming. He needs to be dead before he’s able to use his magic. If he gets one word out, we lose. How are we supposed to manage that in public?” Otherwise, we’re delivering ourselves right into his hands.
“I don’t know yet.”
I can’t stop my bitter laugh. “Isn’t that rather crucial to the plan?” It’s not fair to take my frustration out on Malachi. He didn’t exactly choose to be held captive by my father for over a hundred years, or to be bonded to a seraph when the attempt to gain freedom came with more strings than any of us expected. He needs my father dead just as much as I do.
“Ear plugs?”
I’m already shaking my head at Rylan’s suggestion. “A few years ago, one of his subordinates tried it. His magic might not work well over electronics or long distances, but normal means of muffling sound doesn’t seem to have an effect.” Logically, they should, but magic likes to play by its own rules.
“It was worth a suggestion.” Rylan gives my shoulders a squeeze. “We’ll figure it out.”
“We keep saying that, but no brilliant ideas have come.” I’m not being fair and I know it, but I can’t stop. I shrug out from under Rylan’s arm. “I’m going to wash the blood off.” I hold up a hand when all three of them tense. “Alone. I need to think.”
It’s only when I step beneath the water nearly hot enough to scald that my brain starts working properly. I close my eyes and let the worries and mental knots unwind. The men are here. That’s already a huge victory, and one that shouldn’t have been possible if my father had his way. He’ll have paraded them before the compound the way he always did in the past with his conquests. Losing them is a blow. Being the one to steal them away is a power play that will help establish me as a leader if I manage to kill him.
What they’re asking for feels impossible, but they don’t have the same history with him that I do. No matter how hard I fight it, my father remains larger than life in my mind. The same isn’t true for my men. I need to stop letting my fear control me and listen.
But the time I finish my shower, I feel halfway human again. I smile a little at the irony. I might feel halfway human, but I’m not human at all. There has to be some way I can use that. If the seraphim were so feared as a whole, there has to be a reason why. Surely it’s not just because when they have sex with vampires, they can bond with them. There must be more.
There has to be.
The men aren’t in the bedroom, which is just as well. We ruined another bed. I stare at the bloodstains and grimace. Someday, when this is all over and we’ve settled somewhere, we’re going to have to invest in plastic sheets on the bed we have sex in and have a strict no-biting rule in the bed we sleep in. I shake my head and pull on a dress from the closet. Like the fridge, it was fully stocked when I arrived. Once dressed, I follow the faint tug of the bond downstairs to the kitchen.
They all look up as I descend the stairs, their expressions varying degrees of wary. Malachi is the one that approaches me. He’s always the one who takes that first step, and I’ll love him forever because of it.
I clear my throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m scared, but that’s no excuse. You’re trying to help.”
Malachi takes my hand and tugs me down the last stair and into his arms. “It’s nothing. A few sharp words are hardly enough to require forgiveness.”
“Still.”
He chuckles. “You’re forgiven, little dhampir.” After one last squeeze, he sets me back. “Shall we feed you?”
Instantly, my mouth waters at the thought of more blood, but he turns to the fridge and that feeling sours. I shake my head. “No. I’m good. I’m not hungry.” In fact, I feel the opposite of hungry. I want to fling myself away from the fridge and what it contains.
Malachi frowns. “When did you last eat?”
I start to say this morning, but that’s not true. No matter how good it felt to drink Wolf’s blood—and Malachi’s last night—it doesn’t change the fact that it’s not eating. I touch my stomach. “I’m not hungry,” I repeat. When all three of their attention sharpens on me, I sigh. “I ate… Um.” I can’t remember. I haven’t eaten since the demon deal, I don’t think. Maybe the morning after? I vaguely remember being sick. “A day or two.”
“Malachi.” Rylan says into the silence after my answer. “This isn’t outside the realm of possibility. We discussed this. We don’t eat. The…baby…is half ours.”
“Mina is not a vampire.” Malachi speaks softly but he might as well have yelled. “She is not going to be harmed by this pregnancy.”
Irritation flares. “For the last goddamned time, I am standing right here.” I march past him. “I feel fine, so we’re going to chalk this up to some combination of pregnancy, magic, and my strange bloodlines. We have bigger things to focus on. If, at the end of this, we’re all left standing, then you can worry and pester me about the pregnancy. First, we need to deal with my father.”