Page 8 of The Blood Queen

She walked toward the refugees near the fire, chin up. Not in challenge—but what I expected from hired protection. A woman not to be underestimated. Her strength came from experience and skill. She was strategic when she escalated, then dampening the aggression to her advantage.

Her gaze slid and skated, evaluating until she hit Mace. A long pause before moving on, stopping with me.

I stared while she unzipped her jacket and held the edges open to reveal her shirt. See, nothing hidden.

A slight smile flitted across her lips when I inhaled. Interesting. Her movements were slow and calculated. I am not a threat. She slid the knives from the tied sheaths, holding them with a two-fingered grip.

Not a threat, but I could be, her gesture said before she dropped the knives on the ground. Pushed them away with a booted foot.

She earned my reluctant admiration. A brazen woman, with her palms facing outward. Playing a dangerous game. A mercenary, controlling the situation even when she had no advantage. She murmured something to the woman. Asked her to sit beside the children. The merc was smart enough about confrontations to lessen the pressure. By grouping the mother with the kids, we had fewer targets to watch. The mom would calm the children. Quiet them. Lessening the chance that one kid would frighten enough to run away, triggering an unwanted reaction—like the scattering of mice in front of a starving cat.

Someone could end up dead.

That simple action raised the merc’s value. She wasn’t a babe in the woods, and perhaps had been worth the funds scraped together to hire her.

The wolf pinned to the ground had gone completely limp, whimpering, exposing his gray belly in submission. I frowned at the snort of derision from the wolf who pinned him. Another order from me, and that wolf loosened his jaws, shaking his head to spit the taste from his mouth.

The wolf on the ground remained still, bedraggled, his fur wet from slobber. The man on his knees swayed. A disheartened, pathetic group when we’d been hoping for an enemy.

But were they?

A shudder of annoyance ran through the pack bond, and I sent Levi’s warning as a counterbalance. These strangers would have to prove themselves friend or foe.

Wolves stiffened, ridged hair rising along napes and down spines. Mace altered his stance as the uneasiness spread to the woman in the eyepatch. Her hands jerked, but she kept them upright. One child whimpered, and the pregnant woman glared while pressing her palm to the child’s lips.

Levi breathed in, his fingers flexing on the spear.

Through the pack bond, I asked, You okay?

They’re not what I expected.

Brin wasn’t, either. Can you get past it?

Levi bristled. It’s not bullshit to worry.

You can worry, but don’t let fear obsess you. He’d trusted Brin. Admitted teasing her, even giving her a weapon. The guilt was eating at him, that he’d make a mistake like that again.

They’re kids. His mental voice stuttered. Who the hell uses little kids and a pregnant lady?

Someone like the one who killed Julien and put that spear in your leg. But not everyone is like Brin, deceiving others, and if this thing goes bad, I need to know you’ll be the Pied Piper. Move those kids when I tell you to.

Levi glanced up. I’m good. Kids never did anything. I’d be a sick fuck not to help.

To the old man, I said, “Kick out that fire. The smoke alone will draw in what you don’t want.”

“Or draw you in,” the one-eyed woman said.

I stared at her. “I’m not what you want.”

Her chin moved upward a fraction. “You’re the Alpha, aren’t you? My condolences.”

My voice turned guttural. “For what?”

“We’ve heard rumors about the war. Who you’re fighting. The losses,” she added. “One of your alphas.”

“She wasn’t lost,” Mace snarled, drawing the woman’s attention. I wondered if she noticed the shadows in his eyes the way I did.

“I’m glad.” She nodded emphatically. “Can’t always trust what you hear.” The merc stared back at me. “The name’s Angel.”

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