Dark Queen (Jane Yellowrock #12)

“Little bitch. Always in the way. Damn wolf shoulda killed you.”

Wolf . . . The red wolf from Andromeda’s jewelry shop? Or Ziggy’s and Champ’s pack? I cleared my mind, letting the meditation of the skinwalker shape-shift fill me with the emptiness of battle. My blades whirled faster. Meeting and sliding and grazing apart. My feet settled into perfect balance, long and short transverse steps sliding me inside his reach and out. Callan lunged. Again. Again. Our blades clanged and shushed along the length, gently, as I knocked his aside. Trapping his blade with my vamp-killer. Cut at his neck. Shoulder. The wrist of his sword arm. The Zen of battle.

The room around me faded. Disappeared. There was only the single blade before me and the movements of the creature who wielded it.

Cut. Cut. Cut. Blades a percussive steel melody. Edges sliding, shushing, tapping. My body dancing, dancing. Moving through the forms of La Destreza, feet spread, weight balanced. Focused on one thing. This dance.

“Jane Yellowrock. Desist.”

Cut. Cut. Cut.

“Jane Yellowrock,” the words roared. “Desist!” Leo. Commanding.

I laughed, showing teeth.

He said other words, softly, then, “Dalonige’ i Digadoli. Stop now.”

I cut and cut.

“Dalonige’ i Digadoli. Halewisda. Howatsu. Stop. Please.”

I blinked. Stepped away. From Callan. I was blood splattered. Callan was sliced into ribbons. I felt a blinding pain on my right side. Callan fell to his knees on the marble before me. His blood trickled into the drain. Instantly, I understood what I had done. In meditation, I had reverted back to the punishment I’d dealt to the first man I killed. Sickness rose in my throat, but I forced it down.

I lifted the longsword back, across my body. With all Beast’s strength, I cut.

Callan’s head toppled. Fell. So did Callan’s blood-slick body. His sword hit the black floor. I stood over him, watching as his blood puddled between the marble tiles in geometric patterns, flowing toward the drain.

Alex clicked off his phone, but before he did, I saw Aggie One Feather’s name on the screen. He had called her to get Tsalagi words to make me stop. He had given the words to Leo.

“Bring Edmund to me for healing. Find Dominique, who tossed a sword to the prisoner, and bring her to me,” Leo said. “If she is still in Council Chambers, her true-death is now mine to give.”

Dominique. The traitor brought back from near-true-dead. Dominique and Adrianna—an archenemy I had tried to kill for years—had been lovers. I had recently killed Adrianna and that gave Dominique a big reason to want me dead. And she was here at the same time as the scent of lemons . . . Ahhhh. That was why Leo and Grégoire had brought Dominique back and set her free—to track who she had been working with. Dominique had sworn to Clan Des Citrons. A tiny puzzle piece fell into place. Finally.

“Jane?” Leo was wearing that blank vamp expression. There was a reddish haze around him and I blinked, trying to clear it away. Raised my hand and wiped my eyes. My wrist came away bloody. I realized there was blood in my eyelashes. In my hair. “Eli. Take Jane to heal.”

I felt the world shift and I realized I was in Eli’s arms. He carried me from the room, moving fast through a dizzying maze of hallways, into the locker room across from the gym. He placed me on a bench and a woman knelt at my feet, removing my shoes and cutting off my clothes, wrapping me in white sheets that quickly turned scarlet. I watched for a while until the pain and the stench of my own blood brought me around. I looked at my stomach. There was a deep cut there. Callan had been a mediocre swordsman. I was actually better. But just there at the end, when I stepped away and before I positioned for the final cut, he had lunged. I hadn’t blocked or parried. Callan’s sword had run me through.

Jane used killing claws. Jane is good hunter. Trespasser in hunting territory is dead. But Jane is stupid kit. Should have used ambush and taken head first.

“Can I be both?” I asked aloud. “Good hunter and stupid kit?”

“Don’t know. But you are for sure bleeding to death,” the woman said.

I knew her. She had helped me dress the first time I put on the proper fighting clothes for blood duels. I couldn’t remember her name.

“I’ll take it from here,” Eli said. The woman didn’t move and his voice took on a tone I wasn’t accustomed to hearing from him. Command voice. “Get out.”

The woman rose and left the room.

“Jane. Shift. I’ll bring Beast a plate of steaks.”

“Oatmeal for after. With sugar and milk.”

I could hear the amusement in his voice when he said, “I remember how you like it.”

“Today has sucked,” I said.

I fell forward and let the Gray Between take me.



* * *



? ? ?

Beast kicked out of bloody cloth. Stretched through hips, front legs out, chest and belly. Shook pelt. Stretched again. Looked over parts of body. Looked in mirror. Liked mirror. Was better than water in lake. But lake had beaver dam. Remembered beaver dam. And beavers. Hard to catch but fun to chase in water.

Looked for Eli. Looked for cow meat. No cow. Chuffed. Eli did not appear. Went to door and chuffed again. Was hungry. Made kit-sound, peep and mewling.

Door opened. Eli looked down at Beast, laughing. “Poor hungry kitty cat.”

Beast snarled, showing killing teeth.

“Be nice. I have a roast fresh from butchering.”

Beast backed away from door, sniffing, nostrils opening and closing. Sat and waited. Eli entered and placed big metal bowl on floor, full of blood and meat. Not watery blood. Real cow blood. Beast licked and slurped and tore into meat. Was good.

“Don’t laze over your food too long,” Eli said. “Leo has plans.”

Beast looked up from blood and licked jaw, raspy tongue cleaning lips and muzzle. Like Leo. Have seen Leo fight in drops of water. Leo is like kit. Must be protected. Will give drop of time water to Jane and see what Leo does.

Finished dead cow. Was good dead cow. Belly full, Beast lay down on cool floor and woke Jane. Gave body over to Jane.



* * *



? ? ?

I came to lying on the floor. “Dang cat,” I grumbled. I stood and went to my locker. I hadn’t checked it in a while and I had no idea if it still had clean clothes in it or not. I found a dark gold sweater and black slacks. A pair of dancing shoes. Undies, thankfully. I wasn’t in the mood for commando. I dressed and braided my hair in a sloppy single braid, hearing a knock at the door. “I’m decent.”

When I turned around, Eli stood in the doorway holding a bowl of oatmeal. He came in, placed the bowl on a small shelving unit, and pulled a long bench up to it. I sat and scarfed down the oatmeal. Heaven in a bowl. I used a lot of calories shifting into any form, so no matter how well I ate in one form, I needed to eat again when I shifted back.

“Update,” I said around a mouthful of oats and sugar and milk.

“Dominique tossed Callan a sword. You sliced Callan to pieces and beheaded him. He got in one good stab and nearly killed you. Edmund attacked Dominique bare-handed and took a dozen stakes to the belly and heart. Dominique got away, up through a ceiling tile and a tunnel we didn’t know was there. Leo healed Sabina. Dacy Mooney healed Ed. You shifted.”

I grunted. Ate some more.

“Alex saw an anomaly on the screens during the fight. There was a witch in the Council Chambers.”

My head came up.

“Alex says he’s talked with Molly and she can’t think of a way—other than the lasers—to get tech to recognize magic.”

I grunted and shoveled in another bite. “Where’s the witch now?” It came out like Ere ee wit now? but Eli understood.

“The anomaly fled Council Chambers. We caught sight of it near Leo’s office. We have the MOC and Sabina under Derek’s personal protection.”

I grunted again. Ate some more of the sugary delight.

“We heard from Phillip Hastings.” His voice was toneless and sere.