My grin stretches even wider. I love that move.
I keep a steady stride toward Lincoln, scanning the field as I go. The Queen and ladies stand immobile and stunned on the sidelines. The three remaining Lords bob on their heels, waiting for their turn to attack. Lincoln stares at me, his mismatched eyes filled with cool menace.
Good.
“Stop now, foul demon!” It’s the Horus Lord this time. His 250 pounds of solid muscle barrel straight for me.
I size up his approach. This one will be a little more interesting.
Once the Horus Lord is almost upon me, I bend over at the waist. My tail wraps around my attacker’s neck, spinning him 360 degrees. With a heavy thud, he lands back-first onto the field. A low groan fills the air.
I wince. Okay, that might be a concussion. Oops.
I resume my forward march. Lincoln’s only a few yards away now. Lord Kamal takes up the cry. At least he has the sense to grab a wooden sword.
Weapons. That mixes it up.
I stop, set my weight on my right leg and cross my arms over my chest. Kamal races up to me, his sword raised high above his head.
“Die, you demon sc–”
My tail punches him in the gut. At least I think it was the gut. Eh, I wasn’t really paying close attention. Lord Kamal crouches into a fetal position and falls over onto the ground, moaning.
I step up to the Striga Lord. “Are you gonna try anything?”
The young Lord shakes his head vigorously, causing the purple beads in his hair to jingle. “No, your ladyship.”
“Good.”
I turn to Lincoln. His stance is rigid; his face is still as stone. Raising my hand, I unzip the top of my suit. Gasps sound from the Great Ladies. I can’t help but smile just a little bit. I slide the envelope out from under my suit and hand it over. The Prince grips the letter, his face unreadable.
“Message for you from the Ghoul Minister. It’s urgent.” I bow slightly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you real warriors to fight it out.” I walk away, and maybe I shake my hips a wee bit more than necessary.
As I cross the field, I scan the faces of the Great Ladies. All their mouths curl in unflattering looks of shock and disgust. Adair looks especially ugly. Sweet.
The Queen watches me too, but unlike the Great Ladies, a satisfied grin rounds her mouth. My tail waves goodbye to her. She nods slightly in return.
Avery appears at the top of the rocky hill. “I’m here, everyone!” She waves. “Did I miss anything?”
I shoot her a hearty thumbs-up. “Not much. Catch you later.”
Avery curtsies. “Goodbye, Myla. I hope your skin condition improves.”
“Oh, it has.” I feel tons better already.
I hike over the hill, finding Nightshade waiting for me by the nearest tent. She paws the ground with her front hoof in a move that says ‘let’s vamoose.’
“I’m ready to go, too.” I wind my fingers through her mane and haul myself onto her back. Nightshade gallops over the fields and hills. All too soon, we’re trotting down my street. Nightshade stops by my front door; I slide off her barrel.
“Thank you, Night.” She nuzzles into my neck. I brush her mane with my fingers and sigh. Nightshade is the best. “I’m so glad you found me, girl.”
She whinnies softly and takes off at a gallop.
When I walk through my front door, the house is quiet and empty. I roam the rooms until I find a note from Mom on the kitchen table. She’s running errands with Walker and won’t be home until late. I make myself a quick bite to eat and slip into bed, a peaceful smile on my face for the first time in recent memory. You don’t get many chances to kick ass like I did today. The only thing that could’ve made it better would be video.
***
Once I close my eyes, my dreams return me to the Gray Sea. I stand on a familiar stretch of dark sand beside a tall stonewall. Crouching low, I set my hands onto the desert floor. A circle of white fire erupts from the ground. From its center rises the form of my mother made from sand. She sits at a desk.
The earth continues to rise, the granules building into the shape of an office.
The circle of fire flares higher, then disappears. The moving sand transforms into flesh and blood. The scene before me comes to life.
Mom looks up from her desk. “Hello, Tim.” She runs her fingertips along the neckline of her blue suit.
Tim’s gaze follows the movement of her fingers across her chest. “You should call me TIM-29.” His voice comes out a little husky.
I’m no lust expert, but it’s possible that Tim has a thing for my Mom. My stomach lurches. Could this guy be my father?
“I’ve been calling you Tim for six months now, that isn’t going to change.” She smiles. Her face looks animated, alive, and dazzling.
I scratch my neck, my head wagging from side to side. I still can’t believe this is the same person who conducts my Maternal Inquisition each morning.
Tim bows again. “As you wish, Senator.”