Page 44 of Queen Takes Checkmate
:They each carry a 9mm handgun and extra ammunition,:Guillaume said.:Looks like a hunting knife on the lead man’s thigh. He walks like a soldier. Special Forces, maybe Green Beret. The other two are GRU.:
:What’s that?:
:Russian Intelligence.:
I didn’t bother asking how he knew. He’d probably tell me he smelled the guns again, though I didn’t know how that was possible. With that thought, I was sure the rat smelled gunpowder and a hint of metal.:Who told them about Skye’s basement secrets? Gwen, that’s something else we have to ferret out, unless they already fled.:
:I agree,:she replied.:There are several houses that may have been disgruntled enough with Keisha to supply information to Ra. Certainly several queens were Marne’s eyes and ears inside the tower.:
My stomach tightened. Had Marne managed to plant a spy in my court? But who? Everybody close to me was sworn to me. They were either Blood, and impossible to corrupt, or human, and so above reproach and dedicated to Isador that I couldn’t imagine them betraying me. Accidentally putting me in danger, like allowing a stranger inside the nest, was one thing. But deliberately supplying information to a queen that wanted to eliminate me?
I pushed those anxieties aside. I couldn’t deal with Marne Ceresa right now. But I could do something about these three men that now stood below me. They noted the protections on the door and looked at each other. The leader nodded and stepped back, hand sliding down into a utility pocket on his cargo pants. One of the other guys drew his weapon and took up position on the other side, while the other jiggled the door.
They looked at each other again suspiciously when the door opened easily. We’d already unlocked it earlier. The door creaked open and they cautiously stepped inside.
The rat slipped out of the vent and crept along a tiny ledge, ducked inside the door, clinging to the door frame and inching along until she grabbed on another small ledge on the inside of the room. She balanced precariously in the corner of the room but didn’t seem to be straining or fighting to hold the position.
“Bingo,” the lead guy said.
“You sure?” One of the others asked.
He snorted derisively. “The witch was just as scared of him as the vizier. Come on, let’s get it done.”
What did they even think they could do? They were human. I didn’t sense any Aima blood or power in them at all. So they couldn’t resurrect him. Maybe they were going to smuggle the mummy out of the building.
The leader pulled out a silver lighter. It looked ornate and antique with lots of fancy engraving. He flicked it open and started spinning the starter, but it didn’t light right away.
It finally dawned on me. They were going to burn the mummy. Not resurrect him. But why?
He finally managed to get a flame and started for Huitzilopochtli’s carefully-wrapped body. The rat tensed, ready to send us flying down on top of the nearest man.
:Now.:
She leaped out at the nearest man and sank her teeth in his ear. He let out a shriek to raise the dead.
Suddenly, it was raining rats. They dropped from the ceiling and poured up out of tiny cracks in the walls and floor like a horror movie. The men yelled and kicked at the vermin, scrambling away from vicious teeth.
Only to find Aima shifters waiting for them outside the door.
:Don’t kill them,:I ordered, hoping Gwen could relay the message quickly enough.:I need answers.:
The leader whirled and tossed the burning lighter toward the mummy.
Old, desiccated flesh and fabric would go up in flames in a heartbeat. I didn’t know why they wanted Huitzilopochtli destroyed, but I couldn’t allow it to happen. Not before I understood why.
My rat leaped toward the table, scurried up the leg, and launched herself upward impossibly high. I didn’t know if a single drop of my blood was enough to power that kind of jump for her, or if that was her natural ability. She knocked the lighter off its trajectory. Flames scorched her fur and she screeched in pain, falling toward the hard ground.
I felt the searing flames. I smelled her scorching hair. But I didn’t pull back from our bond. I’d suffer with her, though I strained to stop her fall, or at least slow the tumble.
She fell into soft palms. Gwen cradled her gently while snuffing out the smoldering patches of fur. “Well done, Your Majesty.”
Soft moonlight wrapped the injured rat in cushions of airy silk as Gwen healed her.
I let my awareness fade from the rat, but I sent her a warm, gentle wave of appreciation.:Thank you, my friend.:
Gwen focused on the intruders and sent me an image of one man dangling by his arm, trapped in the wolf’s jaws. The tiger had a big paw on one man’s chest, and the other man, the leader, slowly backed away from the two prowling lions.
As he shoved his hand into his pocket, he screamed, “Lord of Heaven!”
