Page 51 of Demonchild

Luckily, her little story about Dr. Jaeger seemed to have worked. It wasn’t even a lie. Not really. The manwasan Esmorian, and she did think it unwise for Wulfgang to allow a man with a motive for revenge to have so much power inside Drachenval. She’d even dared to tell Wulfgang that on one occasion, when they were lying together in bed and the bitter taste of his semen was still fresh on her tongue.

The king had not heeded her warning, but yesterday the queen had, and right now that was all that really mattered. The queen had even told her to keep an eye on Dr. Jaeger. Ha! Droanna had done no such thing. On the contrary, it was the queen she’d been keeping an eye on. That’s how she had seen the woman sneaking out of the castle earlier. That’s why she was following her now.

Well…tryingto follow her.

Droanna paused to take stock of the situation. Even when she held her breath and strained her ears, she could not hear the queen moving ahead of her anymore, and it was far too dark to attempt a search for the woman’s tracks. Droanna had hoped the queen might light a lantern after she was far enough from Drachenval for the guards to see, but no such luck.

Or maybe the queen was so far ahead, Droanna simply couldn’t see her lantern?

Or maybe she wasn’t even moving at all.

Maybe she was setting up an ambush.

Just let her try, Droanna thought. She would like nothing more than to wrap her fingers around the queen’s throat and squeeze the life out of her. Or better yet, she could use the kitchen knife she had tucked against her girdle. She could plunge the blade into the queen’s belly and kill the cursed child that was growing there.

What right did that bitch have getting pregnant with the king’s baby?

Didn’t she realize that was Droanna’s destiny?

No… No, how could she know that. Nobody knew, not even sweet Wulfgang. Not yet, anyway. But he would find out, once she finally got pregnant with his baby. It didn’t matter that she was just a lowly maidservant. Once she was carrying Wulfgang’s child in her belly, she had no doubt he would elevate her to the level of queen. He was the king, after all. He could do whatever he bloody well wanted.

It was just a matter of getting that black-haired bitch out of the picture.

Malissa.

Where had she gone? She was obviously up to no good, sneaking around these woods at night all by her lonesome. But how was Droanna going to find her? Her pouch of glowing mushrooms was almost empty. If she went much further, she would run the risk of getting lost in the dark forest. Perhaps she should turn around and go back? But if she did that, she might not get another chance to catch the queen doing…whatevershe was doing.

Droanna stood very still as she tried to make up her mind about what to do. She was just starting to turn, when a noise stopped her.

What was that?

What thehellwas that?

It had been a sudden, sharp sound from somewhere in the distance. It might have been a twig snapping, but it sounded more like someone clapping their hands together once. Droanna froze again, desperately trying to listen over the suddenly deafening sound of her own racing heart. For a good long while, she heard nothing else, and she was almost ready to decide that her mind had been playing tricks on her. Then she heard it again.

And this time, after a short pause, another clap followed…

And another…

Andanother…

Droanna began to move toward the clapping, and soon it was accompanied by other, different sounds. A woman’s voice crying out, whether in pain or pleasure, Droanna couldn’t say.

Her heart was slamming inside her now, as hard and fast as it had done that first time the king had shoved her over a table and taken her from behind. The memory of her beloved Wulfgang gave her the courage she needed to keep advancing.

The forest started to open before her. She could see a clearing up ahead, lit by the moon and the glow of five candles. There was some sort of structure in the center of the clearing, and in the midst of the structure, movement.

Droanna moved closer. A strange, charred smell hung in the air.

She could hear a new voice now. A masculine voice, deeper and darker than anything she had ever heard before.

“Great Hell, I cannot take any more of this.”

Then the queen’s voice, ragged and short of breath: “Youcan’t take any more? I’m the one being spanked.”

“Hold your tongue and take this prick like a good little wench.”

A sharp cry.

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