Crowding into the room just behind the wolves were a large number of vamps, many of whom wore corset-style gowns and tailored jackets with big, shiny buttons. But others were decked out in skinny jeans and hipster shirts. As a group, the vamps ran a serious gamut of style. If Marcy were here, she’d have a field day with the bevy of fashion choices in the room. My best guess was each style choice denoted a rough age of the vamp, because putting an eighteenth-century vamp into a pair of jeggings would take a leap of faith most vampires were likely uninterested in taking. If these vamps were as arrogant as their beloved Queen, each thought their style choice was the right one.
But this wasn’t a happy day at court. The vamps bared their fangs, their faces twisted at the intrusion into their lair.
There was also no Rourke. My heart clenched. Our bond had already manifested into something beyond me, beyond my wolf. The physical distance from him was taking a toll already. I craved him in a way I hadn’t known could exist in this world.
Eudoxia raised one finger and the mass stilled instantly.
I slid off the altar so I could stand in front of my Pack, my back resting against the rough stone as I fought to shake off the last of the Queen’s blast. My wolf had been feeding me power and was still snapping continually at the cloud of residual white mist lingering in my system, which I guessed was the manifestation of the Queen’s magic. When my wolf bit down on the cloud, it evaporated into nothing. As the power disappeared, I began to get my strength back. The same thing had happened with Selene’s freaky red lines. I had no idea how my wolf was doing it, but I was glad she knew how, because being beholden to magic made me vulnerable.
The Queen, flanked by her guards, marched confidently toward my father, stopping right in front him. “Callummmm,” she purred. “What a wonderful surprise to see you here. Welcome to my home.” She gestured grandly at her room of decorated macabre, the walls and ceiling were accompanied by ornate vases on priceless lacquered sideboards, all of the furnishings ominous in their stark harshness. “Are you not impressed by what you see before you? It’s only taken me a few short centuries to get it to my exact liking. Though I’m lately rethinking the color of the velvet drapes. Blood red would go so much better with the furnishings than gold. Don’t you agree?”
My father growled in response. “My daughter is coming with me immediately or I will kill you where you stand, Eudoxia. Make no mistake.”
“But of course she is,” Eudoxia purred again. For the first time, a bit of her Russian accent strayed into her voice. “That was quite understood, was it not? Otherwise, Callum Sèitheach McClain, leader of Wolves, you would have not made it so far into my sanctuary. You must not mistake my leniency at your intrusion for passivity.” Her voice became steely, her eyes flashed dangerously as power cloyed the room, filling it with a sticky repulsive sweetness. “You see, very few individuals pass through these doors uninvited and remain … alive.”
Before my father could answer, she turned on a dime, marching toward me with an air of nonchalance. She reached for my cheek, almost touching me, but pulled short when fifteen wolves ramped up their snarl. It took everything I had not to flinch back.
“Your little wolf daughter”—she angled her head at my father—“and I were just having a chat about a few precious things before she bids us a fond farewell. And you know what? I’ve just discovered that it’s of the gravest interest for her to find out where that bad, bad kitty has gone. Is he here with you by chance?” She mocked standing on her tiptoes and looking over the shoulders of the wolves to the back of the room. “Hmm. I don’t seem to see him,” she said, turning with pouted lips to me. “Poor, poor little wolf girl. What are you to do?”
“The cat is of no use to us,” my father said slowly, reading her mood carefully.
Pressure pushed into my mind, but nothing came through. My father was trying to communicate, but the room must be spelled in some way. The Queen wouldn’t want any communication she couldn’t hear among her disciples, and odds were several of the vamps had mind-reading talents. They weren’t uncommon among supes. I tried to concentrate on opening up, but it didn’t work; all I came up with was dead space.
My father continued out loud, “The cat was taken by the witch soon after my daughter was kidnapped by your drone. Once they left, the remaining wolves scattered like thieves.”
“Kidnapped is such a strong word, don’t you agree?” the Queen replied airily. She positioned herself at the end of the altar, running her hands along it in what could only be considered a loving caress. “I prefer to think of it as merely borrowing her for short while. No harm has come to her, as you can plainly see. I blame my curiosity for coveting new things, of course, and a female wolf is such a unique thing, don’t you agree … Callum?” She met my father’s full gaze for the first time. The direct collision of contact between the two put a cringe-worthy burst of energy in the room. Nobody could stare at my father for long, and clearly the Queen had a crazy powerful stare of her own.
The Queen broke contact first. I smiled inwardly.