Page 43 of Queen Takes Rook
So much blood.
A clear indication of how, and how much, I fed. How much power I wielded as a result. Without making a single demonstration or statement.
As I’d done during the final Zaniyah procession, I used Rik as my seat and support and leaned back against his chest, cradled by his massive thighs. Daire shifted into his warcat and laid across my thighs, his head in my lap. His purr was a thunderous roar. I wasn’t sure how much she’d see through the mirror—if she truly had to see our reflection in the glass, or if her power extended to the rest of the room. To be safe, I sent everyone out of the immediate vicinity except for Gina, Guillaume, and Mehen, my two oldest Blood who knew Triune politics inside and out.
Guillaume wore black jeans and a simple white long-sleeved shirt. Anyone who knew him would know that he wore a dozen blades beneath his clothes.
:Fifteen today, my queen.:
Someday, I was going to have to strip him slowly and count every single blade.
:It will be my great pleasure, my queen.:
My dragon lay on the floor around the bed, so big that he provided a perfect back rest for Rik. For now, Leviathan kept his head low. Hopefully he’d be mostly hidden and out of sight—until I wanted her to see him.
Tlacel knelt on the bed before me, holding the mirror so I could see my face reflected on its surface, within easy reach. “Ready, my queen?”
I looked over at Gina, poised with pen and paper. “I’m ready. I’ll write down every word that she says.”
I took a deep, centering breath and cleared my mind. “Let’s do this.” I punctured the tip of my index finger on my fang, waited for the blood to well up, and pressed my fingertip to my reflection.
My image blurred and stretched like I was looking at myself on a funhouse mirror. Then it went gray and fuzzy, smoky like Tepeyollotl had said. I didn’t hear anything like a chime, or even a warning when the great queen herself attended me.
One minute, the surface was fogged over like I’d taken a really hot shower, and the next, I was looking at a very striking woman’s face. Platinum blonde hair was artfully piled on her head in a glorious up-do. Her face was classically beautiful with high cheekbones, a small, pert nose, gorgeous blue eyes, and perfect skin that gleamed like she dusted herself with crushed pearls and diamond dust. She might be over a thousand years old, but she looked like an incredibly rich, beautiful woman, thirty or forty years old.
:Age before beauty,:Guillaume whispered in my head.:Allow her to speak first.:
“Shara, I’m so pleased to meet you at last.”
Her tone said she was truly delighted to meet me—light and eager and warm. But her eyes remained untouched, cold, assessing, and all-seeing. Her pupils weren’t slitted, but she reminded me of my cobra.
:She didn’t use your House name. So match her casualness. Don’t give her respect if she doesn’t give you any.:
“Marne, I presume? Thank you for your beautiful gift.”
She inclined her head slightly, enough to be barely polite. “Are you settling into your new home?”
I didn’t need Guillaume to tell me that was a deliberate message that she knew where I lived and that I had established a new nest. I kept my voice light, as if her snooping didn’t bother me. “Oh, yes. We’re doing some wonderful renovations. I can’t wait until the whole manor house has been completed.”
“I hear you have Timothy Winston to attend to your household affairs.” Her voice was a smug, purring know-it-all, and I hated it. “Gaining his services was quite the coup.”
:Sorry, I don’t know much about him prior to him coming to your service,:Guillaume said.:You’ll have to ask Gina.:
Since I didn’t know Winston’s backstory, I let myself appear ignorant, because I was. “Really? I didn’t realize his services were in such demand, though I completely agree that he’s a fabulous addition to my staff. We’re keeping him quite busy, I’m afraid.”
Marne smiled. “We? How many Blood have you managed to call?”
She said “managed” with a polite lilt that made my hackles rise, implying whatever number I said would be sneered at. I refused to be baited. “Nine.”
Her eyes flared, but it didn’t seem genuine. If she knew exactly when to deliver the package to the house, then she would have seen how many Blood were with me at the airport. Her surprise had to be that I came right out and told her without trying to cover it up. “So many? Already? My, you’ve been a busy girl.”
“Not as many as you, Your Majesty.” For the first time I acknowledged her power and her position of authority. “You have, what, a hundred Blood? That’s what I was told, at least.”
“Oh? By whom?”
“Guillaume de Payne.” I said his name as if I had no idea who he’d been before he came to me. As if I didn’t know she’d ordered that no queen feed him, so he’d be forced to come to her.
She laughed softly. “That old hell horse is still alive? Miracles do happen.”
