Page 172 of Heat of the Everflame

She released me and flopped backward into her chair. “Someone clean this mess up.” She lazily flicked her wrist. “And bring usgaudenscium, too.”

I stumbled back a step, my companions jolting free of their mental binds. Centenaries leapt up and surrounded us to clear the fallen items.

Luther placed a hand on my waist to steady me. “Are you alright?”

I nodded dumbly and leaned into him, still stunned from the Queen’s outburst. His grip on me curved tighter.

“I hate this place,” he mumbled. “The sooner we leave here, the better.”

I’d briefly forgotten my irritation with him amid the commotion, but now it was slamming right back in place. “You seemed to enjoy yourself today.”

His wounded look took me by surprise, and my righteous ire deflated. I avoided his eyes as I pulled free and slid back into my chair.

Once the table was clear, a Centenary appeared with a silver tray and set goblets containing a reddish liquid in front of us.

The Queen lifted her glass. “A toast... to our veryspecialguests.”

A cheer went up around the room. I flashed her a strained smile as I raised the drink to my lips.

The smell hit me first. A smell I knew—and despised: smoke and citrus.

Stop!

The word exploded in my head, an urgent thought borne of panic and fury.

Instantly, every hand in the room stilled.

Including the Queen’s.

“This is flameroot,” I snarled, shoving my goblet away and yanking Luther’s from his grasp.

Yrselle beamed, looking oddly proud. “Bravo, dear. You’re even more clever than I thought.”

“You call us allies, then try to drug us and steal our magic?” I snapped.

Zalaric and Alixe quickly pushed theirs away. Taran grimaced, staring into his already empty glass.

“This is an attack, Yrselle,” I warned.

“I would have told you after the first sip.” She motioned for her Centenaries to replace our drinks. “Can you blame me? The last time I saw you under its effects, you and I had such great fun.”

She flashed a savage grin. An image of our first meeting blinked into my mind: me, whimpering under her control in a darkened alley.

When we meet again, remember this moment,she’d told me that day.How I could have made you kneel. How I could have made you beg.

The image vanished, along with the faint drag of her mental claws retreating.

I gritted my teeth. The Umbros power was dangerous, indeed. If you weren’t looking for it, and if the wielder was skilled, you could fall captive without even knowing you’d been caught. I wondered if I could craft a mental shield to keep them out of my head once and for all.

My godhood swelled, knowing instinctively what to do. It bloomed and coated my scalp, pulsing ice and fire against the inside of my temples.

The room went quiet.

I looked around. Centenaries were still laughing, talking, flirting, yet the maddening roar of voices plaguing me all night was inexplicably... gone.

And then it hit me—it was never voices I’d been hearing, here or in the markets.

It wasthoughts.

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