Dark Queen (Jane Yellowrock #12)

I hadn’t left any silver in him, but Kemnebi was prone to drinking lots of alcohol, maybe more than shifting could handle. If his liver was compromised and if I also cut his liver with a silvered blade . . . Well, crap. I said, “Make him shift.”

“No,” Nantale said. “By your own words you are his alpha. You are the only one here who might be able to affect a change to his cat.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Double crap. I walked into that with both feet. Asad smiled at me, showing large white teeth in his very dark face. Yeah. He thought this was all funny. Not a lot of love between African lions and leopards in the wild. Not a lot in the wereworld either. And so far as I knew, no nonwere had ever forced a were-creature to shift shape. Meaning, I likely couldn’t do it no matter how hard I tried, no matter that I was Kem’s alpha and had magic of my own. Were-shifting was very different from skinwalker shifting. I used the genetic structure of another creature to shift into the chosen shape. Were-creatures were that shape, their forms altered and changed by the were-prion.

I nudged the gasping cat with a foot. Thought about how Leo sounded when he called his people. Mesmerizing, compulsive, compelling, demanding. I wasn’t into convincing people to do what I wanted. I was more the stab-them-first-and-persuade-afterward kinda chick. That hadn’t worked so well here. I glared at the dying werecat.

“Ja—Enforcer,” Wrassler said, interrupting himself and going for professional instead of friendly. Not a good sign. “Kem did attack first; however, it would be . . . unfortunate if the leader of the PAW delegation were to die at your hand.”

“Uh-huh.” And then I had an idea. I was brilliant. “Get LaFleur down here. Tell him to run.” All that boring reading about paranormals and the proper way to react within and between species would come in handy now.

I heard Wrassler repeat my command into the comms system and I prodded Kem again. This time I got blood on my shoe. “Stay alive.” I almost added please, but that wasn’t an alpha word, so I said, “That’s an order.” I didn’t see an improvement, but maybe it helped. Who knew? While I waited, I cleaned my blade on Kem’s clothes and put it away. Then cleaned my shoe. I sensed disapproval from the African cats.

Beast wasn’t happy either, kneading my mind with her claws, a sensation that made me think my brain was bleeding. She had been in the mood for a good fight, and with Kem out so fast, she was being denied it. And now I was gonna try to save the cat she had almost killed. She was pouting. I ignored her.

Moments later I heard the elevator settle to the bottom. The doors opened and I smelled a female security guard and Rick. I didn’t look up and he stayed inside the elevator, the bright lights illuminating the scene. Yeah. There was too much blood. I had messed up.

Bruiser stepped into sub-five, walking from the stairs where I had stood. I could smell his worry as he took in the scene. I didn’t dare look at him. I was afraid I’d see a look in his eyes that would tell me how badly I’d screwed the pooch. Or screwed the cat.

“Rick, do you know this cat?” I asked, pointing.

“Yes.”

“Specify the relationship.”

The room went quiet again. Into the silence Bruiser asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Nope. Not at all. Rock, meet hard place.” To Rick I repeated, “Specify.”

He didn’t ask me questions, which I appreciated. He crossed the distance of the basement to me, his feet cat-silent, his silver and black hair the only thing catching the light and gleaming. “Kemnebi had taken my maker, Safia, his assistant, as mate, though she didn’t care for him. He never forgave me for seducing Safia’s affections, if not her body. I have been in his fangs.” The last line meant he had been at Kem’s mercy for teaching and the words were laced with revulsion. Kem had been a cruel master to Rick.

“Kemnebi is my beta,” I said. “I am his alpha. He attacked me without provocation and outside of proper hierarchy practices and traditions. It’s my right to . . .” Not punish. The word came to me. “To rebuke him.”

“You know the Merged Laws of the Cursed of Artemis,” Nantale said, surprised.

The book of were law was on my bedside table. I had flipped through it, then read the most pertinent parts, like how to deal with were-creature chain of command, if the situation ever presented itself. Most of were law was bloody and full of domination tactics.

Beast had liked most of it. I hadn’t. My Beast moved closer in my mind, listening with the same attention she gave a hunt.

I didn’t respond to the catwoman, but continued speaking to Rick. “His actions against you, while cruel, were within his rights as spurned mate. But his actions against me were improper and constitute attempted murder of his alpha. He attacked without challenge. It’s also my . . .” Oh crap. I went blank. “Ummm. It’s my right to . . .” Not punish him. And then it came to me. “My right to renegotiate his status as a way of saving his life.”

I bent down to the dying cat. He was lying in a pretty big pool of blood and his breathing was getting more shallow. “I remove Kemnebi from his official status, placing him as my zed, the least of all my people. In retaliation for his attack, I seize all his worldly goods and all his subordinate cats. Rick LaFleur, you are now my second in command, my beta, and I give you Kemnebi. You are now his alpha.”

Rick started laughing, a sound more like grief than amusement.

I glanced up at my honeybunch. Bruiser was watching me with unsmiling eyes. He had helped me research this part of were-creatures’ social structure. He knew what I had to do to save Kem’s life. I didn’t like the cat, but still . . . “I wish my former beta to live”—liar, liar—“in shame,” I added more truthfully. “I gift my new beta with all Kemnebi’s worldly goods and status and cats.” I looked at Rick. He was watching me. “In recognition of my gift of your augmented status, you will force Kemnebi to shift to his cat form and save his life, making him your blood beta and beholden to you.” Blood beta was a tricky path to negotiate. It was a lot like winning a vamp’s clan but more. I hoped Rick was up to it. “Do you agree?”

Rick was looking down at the cat who had connived to make his life a hell. “I do. But I don’t like it at all.”

“Can you force him to shift even with silver in his blood?”

Rick frowned. “Yes.”

I leaned over and dipped the fingers of my right hand into Kem’s blood and held out that hand to Rick. He clasped my hand in his and we shook on it. Not everything in were culture required teeth. “Do not disappoint me, beta.”

Rick, still holding my bloody hand, said softly, “I will never again disappoint or pain my alpha.”

“Ummm.” That said a lot more than I wanted it to, but if Kem was to live, we’d have to renegotiate the wording later. I released my grip on Rick’s hand and started to step away.

My new beta held on. His eyes were glowing cat-green and when he spoke there was a purring growl in his throat. “I’ve never done this, only read about it. It would be easier if I was in cat shape, and so I may need help.” He dropped to his knees and shoved his free hand into Kem’s wound. I felt were-power in Rick’s palm grow, a buzzing, hot-cold mist-smoke of electricity. And then I felt Rick do . . . something. He drew on my own power, and I felt the Gray Between bend and stretch, the way it might if I had hooks in my flesh and he tugged on them. “This will do,” he rumbled. He held the bloodied hand to his mouth and licked Kem’s blood. Our connection was so close I could taste the blood, sickly and silvered. Gack, ick.

Good werecat blood, Beast thought. Beast is best hunter.

I didn’t respond.

Beast would kill Kem-cat.

Yeah, I thought back. Not happening.