Torrent of Tears (Scourge Survivor Series Book 3)(59)
“Princess? Are you well?”
My neural pathways were tangled like boxed strands of Christmas lights. Bits of reality flashed in strobes inside my head. My palms tingled, itching for the weight and feel of steel and hilt. I scanned the room and tried to clear the fog from my mind. Where was I?
Silk draped walls, ancient frieze, Greco-Roman carvings, gaudy, oversized desk . . . fuck. I was in the Queen’s private study. Sitting tall and regal upon her throne, she watched me, her long black hair framing her elegant features.
It was something in her emerald stare that set off the alarm bells in my scattered mind. Disappointment? No. Frustration. She looked at me as if I had once again thwarted some cold, evil plan . . . and I had, hadn’t I?
A chill ran down my spine. I don’t know how I was sure, but I was. She was the entity trying to get a foothold in my head while I slept. My bat-shit mother. She might be jaw-drop gorgeous squeezed into haute couture, but she was as lethal as a viper.
“I asked you a question,” she said. “Are you well?”
“Peachy.” Always, wildly feminine the woman possessed a seductive power that I didn’t want anywhere near me or my boys. I swallowed the bile at the back of my throat and hit head-on. “What have you done to my friends?”
She arched a brow, picking up the slim-line dagger from the leather blotter on her desk. Turning it over in her hand, she sliced a flower off its stem from the vase between us. The corners of her mouth twitching in a twisted smile. “Your little urchin and your chamber guard are safely tucked away for the time being. Do as you’re told and they will remain that way.”
“And Rowan? What have you done with him?”
“Mmm, a great many things. He is a gifted male.”
While she twirled the tip of the letter opener against the pad of her finger, I gauged my chances of launching myself at her and slitting her throat with it. I calculated the distance then eyed the two Strati soldiers standing guard in opposite corners of the room behind her. Damn.
“Pity he aligned himself with you and forfeited our arrangement. Especially considering that was the one thing protecting both him and his sister.”
My heart stilled. “Why are you doing this? Don’t your people mean anything to you? Don’t I? I’m your daughter. You’re supposed to be my mother!”
For the briefest moment, her eyes softened to a pale moss green. Gone was the hard edge. Gone was the hateful bitch. Instead, a sad expression of loss and confusion clouded her eyes. My mouth dropped open but, before I could think of what to say, the illusion shattered.
Gathering myself, I limped to the curio cabinet. I poured a glass of amber liquid and one-timed it. I downed another while I tightened up. When I had control of my voice again, I closed the glass-fronted door. “What is it you want?”
“A great many things,” she said, amusement in her melodic voice. “I want puppets to remember their places. I want the hopes of some grand rebellion to die. And I want you to join your sister Eligibles at the leap year celebration and accept Zale as your husband.”
“Why? What could me marrying that asshole possibly do for you?” But I knew. She wanted control of the Nobles Council and was infiltrating it every way she could. To break my will and force me to be one of her pawns would send a very clear message to others.
If I could believe her, Coal, Rowan and Terran were alive—that was the important part. As much as I wanted to run the silver point of that dagger through the top of her glamorous skull, I couldn’t jeopardize their lives.
I needed to curb my natural impulse to strike and step back before I did something really stupid. I set my tumbler on the desk with a subtle thump. Maybe it was the booze interfering, but I couldn’t see any plausible way to get around her and ensure that everyone remained safe.
“Fine. Tell me about the fucking wedding.”
The Queen’s lips narrowed into a fine ruby-red line. “Correct answer, but I don’t appreciate your tone.”
“Sorry. I have several others. Contemptuous. Angry. Snide. Aggravated. How about we settle on extreme sarcasm and get this conversation over with?”
My egg-donor cast a gaze to the desktop in front of her and with a careful hand took a moment to ensure everything was straight and in its place. “Leave us.”
Her words were barely more than a whisper, but the two Strati statues came to life behind her and scurried away like mindless mice. “I should put you to death for speaking to me in such a way. Have you no sense of self-preservation?”
I shrugged. “I know exactly what you’re capable of.”
A thin smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “No, Princess, you still have no idea.”
I rubbed my damp palms down the thighs of my leather pants and tightened my hold on my temper. “If you’re referring to your little sleep invasion, I already figured that out. You can stop trying to get control of me with tricks.”
She barked out a menacing laugh. “Tricks? Oh, I have much more than tricks, Princess. I am the tingle at the back of your neck when you walk in the dark. I am the sound in the shadows when your heart races and you fight the urge to run. I am every terrifying, throat-clenching horror you dream of when you wake damp with sweat and chilled to the bone.”
The boogieman rant was more than creepy, but I’d be damned if I’d let her know that. She smiled, pointing the tip of the dagger at me. As she turned it over and over, the light caught the metal, flashing along the beveled edge of the blade.