Page 49 of Queen Takes Knights
There were so many things I wanted to ask her, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted the answers. Or that she’d be allowed to tell me, even if she was willing. Had she really loved Dad enough to leave her nest and give up her power? Had she regretted giving up Greyson? Had she really gone to him off and on for years after leaving court?
Had she ever regretted taking me in, raising me as her own?
Before I could ask and shatter the pleasant memories I had of her as my mother, I turned away and walked into the night. The pyramid wasn’t for me tonight. I didn’t feel drawn there.
Suddenly I was in my backyard in Kansas City. Roses bloomed along the fence and the air felt warm and thick like a hot July night. I looked up at the house, and didn’t feel a sense of home or gladness. Even though light spilled through the colored glass window above the front entry, the one I’d loved so much as a child. I didn’t feel drawn here. I didn’t want to stay. Nothing held me here but memories.
I would find my own place of safety. I would build my own nest.
I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, letting the moonlight shine on my face. Spreading my arms, I cast my will out into the night, feeling, seeking anything of interest. I glided through the night on silent wings like a great bird of prey. Something pinged, drawing me south. I looked down at the city nestled in the cliffs and hills and recognized Eureka Springs. I had felt a deep resonance there, as if some part of my heart recognized it, though I’d never been there before.
I landed and walked on bare feet through the woods. Pine needles and snow muffled my steps. The trees parted and a magnificent river stretched out before me, shining in the moonlight like polished silver and frosted glass. Rocky cliffs rose across the water and on top of the steep drop off, a large house sprawled in the trees. Odd medieval-looking towers, many roofs, a jumble of buildings that didn’t really seem to go together. But to me, that was its charm. I took a mental snapshot of the place so I could describe it to Gina. I wanted to find this place and make it my own.
Something came through the trees behind me. Twigs snapping. Pine boughs dropping clumps of soft snow to the ground. A heavy click. The ruffle of massive wings. Something brushed my cheek, soft like feathers.
“I will find you here, my queen.”
I turned my head, nuzzling my cheek through downy feathers. Black, soft, shiny, even in the moonlight. He smelled like blood and magic. Old magic. But not snakes. I didn’t think he was the one I’d dreamed about before. “Who are you, my Blood?”
“Nevarre.” His voice rang like drawn steel, his feathers bristling around me. “But I cannot be your Blood, my queen.”
His accent sounded British, or maybe Australian. I couldn’t tell. “Why not?”
“Because I’m already dead.”
I lifted my head, intending to search his face for answers, but he tightened his grip on me and talons pierced my skin.
The scent of my blood spiked my hunger. I suddenly wanted this man’s blood.
So I opened my mouth and sank razor teeth into him. Not fangs, but many sharp, pointed teeth. Like Greyson’s.
I jerked awake and sat up, panting. Alrik quickly sat up too, his arm going around me, drawing me close. Intensity vibrated through his muscles and I felt him scanning the room, listening for any threat. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
I started to say nothing, but there was something in my mouth. I tasted blood. I spat out the thing in my mouth.
A black feather lay wet on my thigh. Wet with blood.
I shuddered, wiping my mouth. Yes, I still tasted him.
Alrik picked up the feather and smelled it. “A raven.” He took another deep breath. “Druid.” His concern leaked into me. Not even a vampire would take Druid magic lightly. “Did he say anything to you?”
I pressed against him, wrapping my arms around his waist. Breathing in his comforting scent, soaking in his strength. “He said he would find me in Eureka Springs.”
His chest rumbled beneath my ear, a soothing sound not unlike Daire’s purr. “If you want to find him, then that’s where we’ll go. If you don’t…”
“My nest will be there. I saw it.”
He lay back, drawing me onto his chest so every inch of me pressed against him. His big hands stroked up and down my back, soothing me. “Then he must be Blood. That’s a good thing.”
I lifted my head so I could see his face. “But he said he couldn’t be Blood because he was already dead.”
Alrik’s eyes flared a moment, then narrowed. “Did he give a name?”
“Nevarre.” I could see the connections flaring through his mind, lightning fast. A raven with Druid magic. Seeking me at my future nest. “Could he be the king that Greyson mentioned? What is a king anyway?”
“Queens are rare among our kind, a blessing from the old goddesses, but a king is only born once every thousand years or more, and usually killed at birth or at least exiled. They’re not a blessing, but an aberration.”
Babies, killed or exiled? That seemed extremely drastic. “Why?”
