Dark Queen (Jane Yellowrock #12)

The door behind us opened. The smell of lemons swept in, but no one was there. The anomaly. The witch was here.

Before I could shout a warning, a werelion in half-form looked Leo’s way, Asad in half-form. He roared. It was a chuffing, reverberating thunder that stole all other sound from the air. The hairs on my arms and back of my neck stood up in some primal horror that said I was about to die horribly. To Eli I said, “Lemons.”

“I smell them. Searching.”

“Ditto,” Alex said, fingers dancing over his tablet.

The stench of lemons increased and the burn of magic boiled into the wide room. The werelion chuffed, twisted his head on his thick neck, and shook himself. Magic, familiar, somehow. Asad turned. Picked up a vamp. And threw her across the room. She screamed in surprise, hit, bounced, rolled, and lay still. Blood pooled beneath her head. Leo tensed.

The werelion roared again, clawed paw-hands in the air. Asad whipped his whole body to the doorway, his nasal folds opening and closing with each breath. He hadn’t seen me when he looked this way, his eyes on Leo then. This time he saw me. Our gazes met and stuck together like glue.

He threw back his head and roared, this time in unquestioned challenge, fangs white and massive. Beast ripped into the front of my brain. Predator! By instinct, my muscles bunched and my hand found a vamp-killer strapped to my thigh. I pulled it free of its hidden sheath. I was still in half-form. Fighting form. Beast snarled, showing killing teeth.

Kem was closer to our group than the other weres. Pulled a blade that was strapped to his human thigh, screaming a leopard cry. Kem was supposed to be tamed. What had happened to him? Magic . . . Growing heavy, hard to breathe. A staged sparring match had suddenly become real. Kemnebi screamed a challenge.

Leo’s swords swept up. He shouted, “You dare!”

I smelled the bloodlust on Kem-cat. “Predator!” Beast screamed again, this time from my/our throat. Beast gathered control of my body, taking over. She stepped to the side of Leo, protecting her alpha from Kem’s attack. I scrabbled for control as she screamed a cat challenge.

Kemnebi screamed, mouth open wide, snout back in snarl, fangs white. Shifting fast, into a partial half-form. Raced to Jane/Beast. Raised steel claw.

Beast shoved down on Jane.

Ducked under Kemnebi blade. Fell to floor. Stabbed up, into Kem belly. Tore up and side to side. Kem’s belly opened. Blood sprayed. Beast rolled beyond wounded cat. Up to back paws. Standing like Jane. But Kem, wounded, turned on Leo, reaching with leopard claws. Fully cat. Larry jumped in front of Master of the City. Protecting him.

Jane/Beast stabbed Kem in back. Kem dropped to floor. Trying to shift back from leopard form to human, to heal. But blade that struck him had been silvered and had sliced into spine. Kem was trapped in cat form. Was dying.

Larry was on floor. Bleeding. Most of throat gone. Leo was bending over Larry, cutting own fingers to heal human. Thought at Jane, Do not understand.

Thoughts raced through Jane’s mind. Betrayal. Magic, Jane thought. No grindylow anywhere. And Larry tried to save Leo. He might have were-taint.

Beast screamed challenge. Hate pack hunters! Kill pack hunters!

Jane pushed Beast back from control. Fought for alpha position. Beast screamed, Will not be beta to Jane alpha!

Stop! Jane thought. Stop fighting me. I don’t know what’s happening, but this isn’t over. I’m a better fighter with a sword.

Beast let Jane take over. Pushed power into half-Beast/half-Jane form. Screamed challenge. Asad and Nantale, in half-lion fighting form, attacked, each of them spinning two swords. Eli stepped in front of me, raised a gun, and shot Nantale. She dropped and writhed on the floor. I smelled silver and were blood.

Asad roared, grief and fury in his tone. And the smell of lemons flared brighter. Asad, golden eyes gleaming, attacked. Eli fired. Edmund and I moved around him and engaged the werelion. Asad, king of the Fulani, an alpha male and experienced fighter, took us both on. Edmund ripped him to shreds in seconds. I sliced Asad’s throat. Asad slowed. Blinked. Looked down at his swords as if puzzled. The leader of the Party of African Weres tripped, stumbled, slid to the floor. And died.

Leo stood as Gee and Larry—Lawrence Hefner, not Larry; he hated Larry—were carried off the floor. Gee’s arms and legs were wrapped around the man, Gee’s Anzu magic a sapphire and indigo haze, already healing. Leo slanted his eyes to me. They were vamped out, scarlet sclera and wide, black pupils. Silkily, his accent more French than usual, he asked, “Why did the werecats attack us? We welcomed them into our chambers. We had signed accords.” He was using the royal we, which was always scary. It meant he was royally ticked off.

“I smell lemons. Smelled lemons. The scent is fading. As to why they attacked, ask Nantale about Clan Des Citrons,” I said. Now that the battle was over, my adrenaline began to break down and the pain in my head spiked again. Nausea rose like a hurricane tide and I swallowed it down desperately. I would not hurl in front of these people.

Alex cursed softly to himself. “I can’t figure out how to find the witch. Nothing’s working.” Leo strode to the half-shifted African lion and knelt over her. He lifted her head in his hand and stared into her eyes. “Why have you attacked my people?”

Nantale swallowed and swiveled her eyes to find her husband dead on the floor. Tears leaked from her eyes. “Asad and Kemnebi and Raymond Micheika, our supreme cat, signed a pact with the emperor Titus Flavius Vespasianus for the were-creatures of Africa and Asia. We were given into the claws of a vampire as her tools. I had no choice and no say, but my husband was foolish. And now I am dying.” She swallowed again, and this time there was blood on her lips, bubbling with her breath. Her lungs were compromised. “Micheika will take my kits and kill or enslave them. Swear to me that you will protect my kits and I will tell you where the papers of parley are. And you will know your enemies.”

Leo said, “I will arrange to take your kits to safety, with others of their kind.”

“The papers are in Asad’s bag in a hidden compartment. At the Royal Sonesta.”

That was a NOLA five-star hotel. Nantale reached up and grabbed Leo’s hand. He returned the grip; Nantale’s skin went pasty, and then quickly ashen. She spasmed, coughed. Just that fast, Nantale died. Leo stroked her face once and gently placed her head on the floor. It was over, whatever it had really been.

I looked around the room. Vamps were standing in small groups, and I memorized who was with whom, who had weapons drawn, who looked happy and who looked disappointed at the outcome. I opened my mouth and scent-searched for lemons, but the smell was gone. Good thing. My head hurt too bad to fight a witch right now.

Leo stood, spitting mad, and rounded on one group of vamps. He addressed Tex. “You will go to the Royal Sonesta and find the papers of parley. You will bring the offspring of our enemies here, to safety. You will treat the kits with kindness and respect, as valued guests.”

Tex slanted his eyes at me and I gave him a small nod. To Leo, he said, “I will, my master.” Which gave Leo control over some of the most important African werelions on the planet. Kits he could shape and raise as he wished. Nice move, I thought, if he brought up his foster kits to believe in personal freedom and responsibility. If. I guessed that being fostered by a vamp was better than being killed in the claws of an adult big-cat.

“Once Nantale’s kits are safe,” Leo went on, “I will contact the Party of African Weres. PAW may want the bodies for burial.” He lifted his chin slightly to Kemnebi, a very French gesture, full of disgust, but he spoke to me. “You will deal with your traitor.”