Thorn Queen (Dark Swan, #2)(93)

No, I needed to kick Volusian out of the house. If I didn't summon him back, those wards would keep me safe. I needed to send him for help, and that choice had to be a wise one.

"Leave this house. Go to Dorian," I said. I drew upon that fleeting strength of mine to enforce the order. "I command you. Go to Dorian and tell him where I'm at. Exactly where I'm at."

I could have sent him to Kiyo. Kiyo knew where this house was. But if the effort of these commands was enough to finally shatter my hold on Volusian, Dorian might be able to bind him back. It would be better than Volusian running loose. That, of course, depended on whether my order was strong enough to even get Volusian to Dorian to deliver the message. My first command had been to get Volusian out of the house and keep me behind the wards. If that was all I could manage, Volusian would no longer be bound to obey. He has to, I thought desperately. He has to get to Dorian....

"Go!" I ordered harshly.

"As you command."

Volusian vanished, eyes narrowed, confident our bond was about to break. As soon as he was gone, I fell onto the bed, nearly ready to pass out. Would it work? Or had I just broken the last fragments of our bond? I was too afraid to reach out and test the link. I didn't have the strength.

The door suddenly unlocked. Nightshade time. With a sickening thought, I realized that if it was the original kind, I would almost certainly lose that control of Volusian. If it was Markelle's decoy, I could hold onto my strength.

Abigail entered, a cup in hand and Markelle in her wake. The gentry girl's eyes were down, her whole posture meek. I bit my lip at their approach, waiting to see what my future held.




It tasted as bitter as always, but as I drank, Markelle lifted her eyes. There was nothing obvious in them, no wink, no expectation. Yet, somehow, I knew. I knew. It was the fake again.

Satisfied that I'd swallowed it all, Abigail gave me a withering glance. "We need you cleaned up. That fool is coming for you again later tonight, and he did a number on that dress last time. He wants you looking good, though, so..." She gave a half-hearted shrug. Naturally, I couldn't tell her that my dress's rumpled and slightly torn state had nothing to do with Leith's sexual aggression, but, rather, an angry spirit bent on killing me.

Markelle's eyes were downcast once more. "Should I get her a new dress?"

"No. You've got to clean up too. Art's going to be here in a little while for you."

The girl flinched, but Abigail didn't seem to notice. But then, why would she? She didn't notice any of these girls, not really. And I knew what those words meant. Markelle's time had come. "I'll send in that freckled one, once she wakes up again."

I realized that she was me and that I should allegedly be going under. I sank back against the covers, blinking like I was trying to stay awake. The two of them left, Markelle giving me one last fleeting glance. There were a lot of things in her wide eyes as she looked at me. Fear. Hope. Anxiety.

I exhaled once they were gone and sat up. Plan time. My muscles were still weak, but they reminded me more of what you'd feel after a hard run. What had Markelle said before? Twelve hours was the normal dose? I was at that point. The nightshade had to be significantly wearing off. Theoretically, my magic should be returning too and-

"Why, hello," I murmured. I'd sent my mind out into the room and had just barely-barely-felt the tingle of air and water. I wasn't going to be blowing anyone apart soon, but the magic was coming back. And when it did, these *s were f*cked.

But I needed to wait this out. I wasn't going to jump the gun like I had with Volusian. Every minute brought the magic and my strength back. I had to use this downtime to assess the situation. Abigail was in the house still. Art and Leith were eventually coming back-together or apart, I didn't know. The one thing I felt confident of was that I did not want to face all of them at the same time. That meant Abigail had to be taken out first, but I was going to need help.

In what must have been a little over an hour, Cariena slipped in with a pink silk dress. It reminded me of something Maiwenn would wear. Apparently, no one had gotten the memo that redheads don't wear pink. I stood up and took the dress from Cariena, promptly tossing it on the bed. She looked aghast that I'd gotten up without falling over. Considering all that had happened recently, I couldn't blame her.

"Your m-majesty, what-"

"Cariena, we're getting out of here."

"We can't!"

"Oh, we can, and we are. Where's Markelle?" I had a feeling I was going to need an accomplice with a bit more boldness. "And Raina?" I rarely saw the third gentry girl around here and had no clue to her attitude, but she needed to be accounted for.

"Raina's in her room. She was-disrespectful. And Markelle is preparing herself."

Preparing herself for a lifetime as a sex slave. I grimaced. "And Abigail?"

"She's upstairs. Watching..." Cariena groped for the unfamiliar word. "...the television."

"Okay, okay." My mind was spinning now. It seemed to be recovering faster than my body. "Here's the deal. I need a weapon. Is there anything you've seen that would work as one?"

"We can't do this. We can't-"

"We can," I ordered, making my voice hard and fierce. This girl had been beaten into weakness, and if those shamans scared her, I would make sure that I-her queen-scared her more. "And you will obey me. You're my subject. You'll get out of this alive-I swear it. You'll see your family."