Page 13 of The Blood Queen

Angel.

We had more to discuss.

I wanted to know what really drove them from the Cariboo—a reason worse than the risk of dying.

CHAPTER 5

Grayson

Only three guards waited against the wall, silently watching. Mace remained at the table.

“She’s terrified.” I said to Donnelly.

“She has reason to be.”

“What happened?”

He leaned back, his shoulders squared. A wariness darkened his eyes. He was shrewd. Honest. An elder, still in his role as protector of an apparently destroyed clan. A man who pretended to be feeble, tripping on branches.

Another skillful chameleon? Blending in, appearing ineffective? Not a threat, but I could be.

I sent out a thread of alpha power, probed at the walls of his mind. They wavered, still strong, but breakable. Even though they’d fled from the Cariboo, these men had not been expelled, with their pack bonds broken. That meant two things—their alpha was ineffective, relying on elders. Or he was dead, and the elders had taken his place.

“You have no living alpha,” I said. “He—or she—died, and not from an alpha challenge.” An alpha challenge meant two wolves, fighting in front of the pack and to the death. Then the watching pack members, swearing loyalty as the alpha’s power moved to the victor.

Donnelly pressed his lips together. “Happened a year ago. The queen killed the alpha, somewhere in her dungeons. Took his place and called a meeting. We were told it was to swear our loyalty. Men from all the settlements had to go. Not just the elders. Davie—my son—he was one of those called. Went with me, stood at my side through it all.”

“She has a fortress beneath a glacier?” asked Mace.

“A damn castle built of hewn stone. Herded us all inside a throne room. Her guards were at every door—no one could escape. She sat on this golden throne like royalty. The ancient kind we haven’t seen in centuries.”

“Evil magic.” Cashel stared at the mug of coffee he hadn’t touched. “Curdling beneath the skin.”

“You were there?”

“We all were, that time.”

“And?” Mace prompted.

“She had a fucking vampire pinned to the stone wall.” Pike drank water, not coffee, and slammed the cup on the table. “Still alive. Twitching each time the crows picked at his eyes. He wasn’t the only one.”

“Alphas,” Donnelly said. “Minor ones. Some I knew. Some I didn’t recognize. Not from Cariboo. But she’d used some witch spell to keep them from moving.”

“Anyone recognize the spell?” Mace glanced around at the silent group. No one answered.

“Did she use shackles? Knives?” he persisted. “Shitty magic wands?”

“From where we stood,” Donnelly said, “it looked like iron shackles holding their wrists. Then daggers, slammed through their chests, like bugs, keeping them still. Said she’d do it to anyone who didn’t swear loyalty to her.”

“But she meant something else?” It wasn’t a question. Not if we were dealing with Amal. Months ago, Julien told me the vampires had a missing sire, one who had gone into the Cariboo and hadn’t come out. Had he refused to swear loyalty, and now hung on Amal’s wall?

“She said it was a warning. Righting a wrong. A lesson to the ancient kings because they’d stolen the wolves from the queens. Made no sense since those kings were all dead. But maybe it was just a show, a way to demonstrate her power. Scare everyone.”

Donnelly paused to gather himself before he said, “She took a bone knife and sawed through the alpha wolf tattoos, one strip at a time.”

“Dropped each strip in a brazier. Let it burn,” Cashel said. “I can’t forget the stench.”

“Called it fucking blood magic,” Pike added, his voice guttural.

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