The Shadow Queen

CHAPTER 18

Cassidy pulled her nightgown over her head, then pressed a hand against her abdomen. A heaviness, settling low. A dull ache that got more pronounced every time she stood up this evening.

Well, Shira warned her that it would hurt more if she delayed her moontime. Looked like she was going to find out how much more.

She called in her supplies and tucked them in a bathroom drawer where they would be handy, then got into bed, feeling chilled despite the mild night. She plumped up pillows and opened the book she was reading. But she didn’t feel like reading.

When she first arrived in Dena Nehele, it felt like an adventure, like a chance to do something good. Since then, she felt like she was constantly slogging through emotional mud that was knee-deep and getting deeper. She could see the value of looking at this like a contract job, but that didn’t seem to be working either, because every time she’d asked Theran what he would like to do about anything, he danced away from giving her a straight answer. He opposed her suggestions but wouldn’t make any of his own because that wasn’t a First Escort’s duty.

And why not? If his reason for opposing her suggestions was superior knowledge of what was happening in the Provinces and villages, why didn’t he share the information?

Sweet Darkness, she missed her father, and he’d left only yesterday.

Cassidy snorted. “Left out a few details in my letter, my eye.” The dresser had already been made, and the wood had been cut for a small bookcase. Since he’d brought a mattress as part of the supplies, her father had had a good idea of how big the bed could be.

It had been an excuse to come visit, but she wasn’t sure whose idea it had been—her father’s, Prince Sadi’s, or the High Lord’s. Didn’t matter. Besides her own time with Poppi, her father’s visit had done so much good for Gray. One of Burle’s sayings was “Work hard, but work smart,” and his practical balance of when to use muscle and when to use Craft—and when to rest—helped Gray feel less wounded.

And the occasional silly smile on Gray’s face, combined with a twinkle in Burle’s eyes, meant her father had been telling tales about her. She might have wondered more about what was said if Gray hadn’t found the courage to enter the house and join them for meals the last day Burle was there.

That had been her father’s finest piece of work.

The only person who hadn’t warmed to Burle was Theran, who had remained freezingly polite. Even Talon, after he’d realized Burle wasn’t uneasy about being around someone who was demon-dead, joined them in the evenings to play cards or just talk.

Only Theran had viewed her less-than-aristo background as further proof that she wasn’t worthy of ruling Dena Nehele.

“Let him take a piss in the wind,” Cassidy muttered, putting the book aside, since even reading seemed too much effort tonight.

As she pulled the covers up and tried to find a comfortable position, she heard Craft-enhanced scratching on her suite’s door.

*Cassie? Cassie!*

To avoid getting out of bed, she used Craft to open the door to the suite and the glass doors that led into her bedroom.

*You are not downstairs with the males,* Vae said as soon as she entered the bedroom.

“Needed some quiet time tonight,” Cassidy replied. And needed some time to think about what she was going to do in the morning when every male around her would react to the scent of moon’s blood—and to the fact that she would be vulnerable, unable to use her own power during the first three days without causing herself debilitating pain.

*You are not well?* Vae asked.

An odd hesitation in the question, and the same phrasing a human would use to ask about such a personal subject. But why would the Sceltie know, or care, about her moontime?

“Want to keep me company?” Cassidy asked.

Vae jumped up on the bed and lay down next to her. Cassidy put her arm around the dog and cuddled closer, the warmth of that furry body soon easing the ache in her lower belly as her muscles relaxed.

Sighing, she shifted her head to a more comfortable spot on the pillows, and fell sleep.

Vae dozed on and off throughout the night, waiting for the change in scent that would tell her for certain if Cassie was moody because her sire had gone home or if it was the blood time that meant Cassie wasn’t safe around males. Even the males who were supposed to protect her.

It wasn’t sensible for human females to come into heat so often, but there were many things about humans that were not sensible. That was why Scelties had been looking after humans for such a long time.

Cassie was a Queen, and her court should protect her. Theran should protect her.

But Yas did not trust Cassie’s court, did not think the males would defend her properly. Ladvarian said Yas knew how to protect a Queen. Ladvarian said Yas was a human the kindred could trust.

Ladvarian had learned his Craft from Jaenelle, who was the special Queen, even for kindred, and Ladvarian had taught other kindred what he had learned. So Vae knew her Craft, and she knew Yas understood things about the males here that she did not. Even Theran.

Well before dawn, Cassie’s scent changed.

Vae wiggled backward until her head was level with Cassie’s female place. Then she sniffed to confirm the scent.

Human females did not like to be sniffed there by anyone but their mates, so it was good that Cassie was still sleeping.

Jumping off the bed, Vae padded out of the bedroom and used Craft to pull aside a curtain on one window in the living area.

Early. No one awake yet. But when the first birds woke up and began to chirp, Cook and her helpers would wake up too and start making food for the day. Then the Blood who took care of the house would wake up.

But not yet. No one but Talon would be awake now, and he did not come to Cassie’s rooms, so he wouldn’t know about the change in her scent. Not yet.

She wore Purple Dusk. Since she couldn’t ride a faster, darker Wind than the Purple Dusk, the Keep was far away.

Cassie needed protection now. Cassie needed Yas.

Cassie would be safe enough until the males smelled the blood.

Vae leaped through the window, using Craft to pass through the curtain and glass. She landed lightly on air, two stories above the ground, and floated there for a minute.

Going up was faster than going down and around, so still floating on air, she trotted up one side of the roof and down the other before leaping away from the house and gliding over the ground and locked gates.

Landing lightly, she trotted over to the landing web and took a moment to make sure of her direction. Then she caught the Purple Dusk Wind and rode to Ebon Askavi.

Wanting nothing more than to spend an hour with the novel currently intriguing him before he retired earlier than usual, Saetan turned away from his suite and retraced his steps to one of the Keep’s private sitting rooms, where Lucivar was doing a slow prowl.

“Is there a reason why you’re showing up here every morning?” Saetan asked.

“I can count,” Lucivar replied.

“And that’s significant because . . . ?” He could think of one reason for the edgy prowling. “Is Marian pregnant?”

“What?” Lucivar jumped as if he’d gotten jabbed in the ass. “Hell’s fire, no! Although she’s working on it,” he added in a mutter.

“She’s working on it?”

Lucivar gave him a dark look. “She hasn’t talked me into putting aside the contraceptive brew. Not yet.”

Thank the Darkness for that. He loved his grandson, Daemonar. He really did. But he suspected everyone in the family would be grateful for a little more time before they had to deal with another miniature Lucivar.

Including Lucivar.

“Did Lord Burle say anything to you about Cassidy?” Lucivar asked.

“A few things. Are you interested in something in particular?”

“Did she have her moontime while he was there?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Why not?”

Saetan pressed his lips together, not sure if he was amused or appalled. He had known Andulvar Yaslana for over fifty thousand years, and even having all those years of experience with the straightforward way Eyriens had of looking at things didn’t always prepare him for Lucivar’s bluntness.

“That’s a delicate subject.” He studied his son. “You would have asked him.”

“Damn right I would have. Even if she’d had her last moontime right before she went to Dena Nehele, she’s late.”

“It does happen.”

“Especially with some help.”

Apparently Lucivar had kept a few things to himself about his last visit to Dena Nehele. Like the fact that Cassidy might feel too uneasy about being vulnerable around the males who were supposed to serve her.

“Her court,” Saetan said quietly. “You don’t trust them.”

“No, I don’t,” Lucivar replied. “But I’m sure I can get things settled enough that she won’t have to worry for the rest of the time she’s there.”

Preferring to have only a vague idea of how Lucivar might settle things “enough,” Saetan said, “If you don’t trust them, who is supposed to send a mes—”

*Yas? Yas!*

Of course, he thought as he turned toward the door just as the Sceltie barreled into the room.

*It’s Cassie’s bleeding time!*

He felt his temper shift, sharpen. Recognized that same shift by the look in Lucivar’s eyes.

No, Cassidy wasn’t their Queen, and she wasn’t family. But she was connected to them because of Jaenelle—and Daemon—so they would respond in a way that was in keeping with their nature.

“I’ll be back in four days,” Lucivar said.

Saetan nodded. “I’ll go to your eyrie and inform Marian. Anything I need to know?”

“No, there’s nothing that needs particular care at the moment.” As Lucivar headed for the door, he added, “Come on, Vae. You’ll ride the Ebon-gray Wind with me.”

Saetan stared at the empty doorway a long time before saying softly, “May the Darkness have mercy on you, Theran, if you do anything in the next few days that pisses off Lucivar.”

You can’t hide in your room for the next three days, Cassie thought as she pulled a long, moss green sweater over her head. There’s work to be done, and how can you prove to Theran and the others that you’re capable of going out among the people if you can’t even move among your own First Circle?

She couldn’t hide in her room. But she wanted to. She knew what to expect from the males back home, but not here. Would they work together, or would the personalities that rubbed against one another turn savage?

No way to tell. Not from her bedroom.

Pressing a hand to her abdomen, she took a deep breath, blew it out, and left her suite.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, she thought a few minutes later. The male servants she had passed on the way to her office had given her a sharp glance, but that was the only change in their behavior.

As she rounded a corner, she thought, I guess I was worried over noth—

Theran drew in a breath, no doubt getting ready to “ask” why it had taken her so long to come down when the Steward and others were waiting for her.

Then his nostrils flared. His eyes glazed. And the look in those eyes was predatory, not protective.

“Cassidy,” Theran growled.

She took a step back. Took another. “I need some air. I’ll join you in the Steward’s office in a few minutes.”

“Cassidy.”

“I need some air!”

She turned and headed for the nearest door that would take her out of the house. She almost made it, almost got the outside door open, when Ranon stormed into the room, moving with an intent that made it plain he had caught the scent and come after her.

The glazed eyes. The power and savagery. Warlord Princes rising to the killing edge and honing their tempers to lethal intensity because of a blood scent.

She knew she should direct that savagery, turn it into a fierce kind of service. She was a Queen, and dealing with a Warlord Prince when he rode the killing edge was part of her training.

“Lady,” Ranon snarled, taking a step toward her.

If she trusted him, trusted any of them, she could stand her ground and find a way to keep things from turning deadly. But she looked into Ranon’s eyes and realized he had taken advantage of those vulnerable days to kill witches he had hated, and right now, he was struggling not to see her as prey, not to see her as he’d seen most other Queens.

One hundred Warlord Princes in Dena Nehele. For the first time, she understood what they must have done to survive, how much blood they must have spilled to keep the failing heart of their people from being destroyed completely.

“I need some air,” Cassidy said, easing herself out the door. “Take care of your duties, Prince. I’ll join you shortly.”

Did he sense the lie?

Fool. You should have gone to the Keep last night when you suspected this would start.

But she hadn’t been frightened last night. Not really frightened. She’d had a false confidence, based on her experience with the Warlord Princes in Jaenelle’s court. She’d never felt threatened by those men, even the most powerful among them. Hell’s fire, Lucivar didn’t waste time discussing anything with a witch during her moontime. He’d simply pick her up and haul her to wherever he wanted her to be, and that was the end of it. If she was lucky—and he was feeling generous in a snarly kind of way—the witch would have a choice of what she was going to eat and whether she had one blanket tucked around her or two.

Despite his power and temper, despite what she’d heard he could do when he rode the killing edge, she had never had a moment when she’d thought Lucivar would hurt her.

Her thoughts fled in every direction. She kept her head down and her eyes focused on the ground as she hurried without considering where she was going. When strong hands grabbed her upper arms, she let out a breathless shriek.

“Cassie?” Gray asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Gray,” she gasped. “Nothing’s wrong. I was just . . .”

His nostrils flared. His eyes glazed. And a friend was replaced by a stranger whose hands tightened on her arms when she tried to step back.

“You’re hurt,” Gray said, his voice roughened by a temper turned unpredictable. “You need the Healer.”

He started to pull her toward the house. She dug her heels into the ground, resisting.

“I don’t need a Healer, Gray. I’m not hurt.”

“You’re bleeding. I can smell it.”

Mother Night. “It’s moon’s blood, Gray. You know about moon’s blood. Don’t you?”

Did he? Boys didn’t notice the smell of moon’s blood until they began to mature sexually. When she’d first met him, Gray’s psychic scent had said “boy” despite his physical maturity.

“I know about it,” Gray finally said.

There was just enough hesitation in his voice for her to wonder if she could believe him.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” Gray said. “You should be inside. Someone should be looking after you.”

Well, he knew that much.

She thought of going back inside, thought of the look in Theran’s eyes—and Ranon’s eyes—and shuddered.

“Too many people in the house.”

“You mean too many males.”

“Yes.”

His hands gentled. His voice gentled. “You need to rest, Cassie.”

“I—” She couldn’t deny it without lying, so she said nothing.

Gray released her, then slid a hand down her arm until he could take her hand. “Come on. You can take a nap in my bed. You’ll be safe there.”

Gray’s little room in the shed. A quiet, private place where she could gather her wits and her courage.

She didn’t argue with him when he coaxed her to lie down on the bed her father had built. She didn’t argue when he removed her shoes.

She didn’t resist when he tucked himself in beside her.

“Get some rest, Cassie,” he said quietly. “You can rest.”

His fingertips gently stroked her forehead, stroked her hair. Such a soothing motion. When he told her to close her eyes, she obeyed.

Cradled by the warmth of him, she fell asleep.

Gray watched her sleep. That sunset hair, with its streaks of honey, was spread over his pillow. He studied that wonderful face with its crop of freckles. An honest face. A face he could trust.

Just like she trusted him. She hadn’t stayed in the house with Theran or Ranon. She’d come to him, trusted him to keep her safe.

And he would keep her safe. He’d put a Purple Dusk shield around the gardening shed, as strong a shield as he could make. It wouldn’t keep the other males out if they were determined to get in, but it would give him the precious moments he’d need to prepare for a fight.

*Gray?*

*Leave me be, Theran.*

*Are you all right? Why have you put a shield around the shed?*

*I’m fine.* More than fine. His blood was singing in his veins, potent and ripe.

*Have you seen Cassidy?*

*Leave me alone.*

When a minute passed without another call from Theran, Gray relaxed again. Turned his attention to the woman.

Cassie. His eyes focused on her neck. He bent his head as he carefully pulled her sweater away from the spot that intrigued him so much. Then he breathed in the scent of her. His lips pressed against her skin, and his tongue got the taste of her.

He raised his head and looked at her, seeing something different. Something wonderful.

Mine.

In response to the thought, a strange feeling flooded him, body, heart, and mind. A feeling fierce and powerful. A feeling that shattered the husk he’d lived inside for so long—and no longer wanted.

“Cassie,” Gray whispered. “Cassie.”

He pressed his lips once more to that sweet spot, feeling a hunger stirring his body, arousing much more than his cock.

Smiling, he looked at her, asleep in his bed, and whispered, “Mine.”

Theran watched Gray and Cassidy walking toward the house, hand in hand.

“That little prick,” Theran growled. “He was hiding her in the shed.”

“At least we know where she was,” Ranon said, rubbing the back of his neck to ease some tension.

“He could have said something,” Theran snapped.

The whole household had been in a state of quiet panic since Cassidy walked out the door.

A vulnerable Queen is a dead Queen.

Even if you couldn’t get the Queen the first time, you could start picking off her protectors, could get a feel for who was loyal—and, therefore, a traitor to his own people—and who wouldn’t get in the way of the fighters trying to hold on to the little in Dena Nehele that hadn’t been corrupted.

He hadn’t been out in the open—not like Ranon or some of the others—but he’d done his share of fighting. And he knew there were plenty of men out there—including some of the Warlord Princes who had presented themselves for consideration—who wouldn’t hesitate to attack a Queen because that’s what they’d spent a lifetime doing.

“Is she all right?” Shira asked, rushing up to them.

Theran glanced over his shoulder and swore silently. With the exception of Talon, who would surely have a few things to say when he joined them at sundown, the whole damn First Circle was there, waiting for Gray and Cassidy to take the last few steps across the terrace and enter the house.

He didn’t give anyone else time to voice an opinion. As soon as Gray crossed the threshold, Theran stepped forward.

“Gray, what in the name of Hell—”

Gray snarled at him, and the glazed green eyes that stared at him held no recognition.

“It’s all right, Gray,” Cassidy said quietly, trying to slip her hand out of Gray’s grasp. “It’s all right.”

Gray tightened his grip and snarled, “Mine.”

Before Theran could respond, a sharp whistle from the back of the room caught their attention. Power and temper formed a wedge that had the rest of the men scrambling to get out of the way as Lucivar crossed the room and stopped when no one stood between him and Gray.

“Mine,” Gray snarled again.

“I don’t hear anyone challenging your claim, boyo,” Lucivar said, “but there are things that need to be done, and we’re going to take them in order. First.” He pointed to Gray’s Jewel, then his own. “Purple Dusk. Ebon-gray. I have no quarrel with you. In fact, I’m here to help. But if you start a pissing contest with me, I will rip you apart. Are we clear on that?”

Gray nodded once, sharply.

“Second, ease up on her hand before you crack a bone.”

Theran saw Gray’s hand jerk open, then close again. But not as tight.

And he noticed how intensely Cassidy watched Lucivar.

“Third,” Lucivar said, “is the Healer present?”

Since Shira was standing beside Ranon, it was obvious she was present, but she stepped forward and said, “I’m here.”

“Do you know how to make moontime brews?” Lucivar asked.

“Of course I—”

A small sound from Cassidy.

Shira pulled back. “Yes, Prince,” she said courteously. “I’m well versed in brews that can ease moontime discomfort.”

Lucivar nodded, his gold eyes fixed on Gray. “The Healer will go with Lady Cassidy up to the Lady’s suite. The Healer will make the brew and Lady Cassidy will have some private time to take care of personal needs. Vae will go with them. If there’s anything that needs our attention, Vae will let us know. We clear so far?”

Gray nodded.

“Let go, Gray,” Cassidy said. “It’s all right. I need to go with Shira now.”

Reluctance. Resistance. Theran watched Gray struggle with conflicting instincts—and knew the only reason things hadn’t turned bloody was Lucivar’s overpowering presence.

The moment Cassidy eased her hand out of Gray’s grasp, Shira hustled her out of the room, followed by Vae.

“Now,” Lucivar said to Gray. “You’re going to go outside and clear your head of the blood scent enough to have your brain working again. Then you come back in, and we’ll all work out an agreement for taking care of Cassidy during her moontime.”

“Mine!”

“She’s a Queen,” Lucivar said firmly. “She has a court. You have to share.”

Gray bared his teeth and snarled at Lucivar.

Lucivar just looked at him until Gray subsided, yielding to the dominant power.

“Even the sweetest-tempered witch turns bitchy during the first three days of her moontime,” Lucivar said. “Why should you be the only one on the receiving end of her temper? Let her court shoulder some of it. That’s part of what it means to be First Circle.”

Gray, don’t be a fool, Theran thought. He’s giving you a chance to back down. Take it!

“How much sharing?” Gray asked, sounding wary.

“That’s what we’re going to decide. Go on,” Lucivar added gently. “Get some air. The first time it matters always hits a man hard.”

Theran didn’t take a full breath until Gray retreated.

“Hell’s fire,” Ranon said. “What got into him?”

“His temper and his balls woke up,” Lucivar replied. “Since they woke up about ten years late, you all need to be very careful with him.”

“Gray wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Theran said.

“A week ago, I’d say you were right,” Lucivar said, giving Theran a long look. “But he’s a Warlord Prince who has staked a claim. Until Cassidy accepts him or rejects him according to Protocol, he won’t see you as a cousin when you’re in the same room with her. He’ll see you as a rival. And Grayhaven, if he believes you’re trespassing, don’t think for a moment he won’t do his damnedest to rip your throat out.”