Bound by the Vampire Queen (16 page)

“I don’t need to ask why we are so honored.” Rhoswen’s attention sliced back to Lyssa. “What did he tell you about freeing Catriona? Did he explain how she came to be trapped there?”

Just like that. No greeting, no preamble. So Lyssa responded in kind. “He said the girl had been trapped there by a cruel, capricious witch. One jealous of the warmth of the dryad’s heart, her capacity to love.”

His lady didn’t wait for a fight to start. If she deemed it inevitable and politically advantageous, she’d draw first blood. Still, the lie startled Jacob.

While Lyssa remained locked in her straight posture, Jacob risked a quick look at Keldwyn. Though shock flashed over the Fae Lord’s face, it was followed by something as brief, but unmistakable. Deep, vengeful pleasure.

The queen held Lyssa’s gaze an extra beat, a response as unsettling as Keldwyn’s reaction. “As you may know, Fae do not lie, but we are not beholden to give truth to mortals, or half-blood Fae.

We are masters at straddling the line between.

Some of us more than others.” The queen’s chilling gaze swept over Keldwyn. The diamond trails in her hair sparkled, the wave of white hair framing her breathtaking face. “I have heard that since your ill ness passed and you lost your vampire abilities, your Fae blood is rising in you so strongly, it may be eclipsing the taint of the vampire. Let us see, shall we?”

How she’d known the debilitating result of Lyssa turning him, Jacob didn’t know, for they hadn’t told Keldwyn, either. Perhaps the Fae spies were better than the vampire ones. It was a point to ponder later, because before Lyssa could respond to the queen, Rhoswen had risen from her throne.

She extended her arm. It was a graceful movement, the sinuous shift of her body a distraction to any male with a pulse, but Jacob interpreted it for the attack it was. He was already in motion, but unfortunately Cayden anticipated him as well. Two more of his guard materialized out of the wall of water at his back, lunging forward to restrain him.

Their speed was greater than his own, his attempts to twist free and land blows met with brutal force.

They slammed him to his chest in the aisle, where he discovered there was indeed unyielding marble beneath the thin magic of that moving water. His nose and jaw bounced off it, blood exploding in his mouth as his fang pierced his lip. He struggled against them, snarling, but the stone shifted to mud beneath him, oozing over his forearms and calves and just as abruptly becoming solid, unbreakable stone again, holding him fast.

He jerked his head up to find the white, crackling energy that had leaped from Rhoswen’s hand was a magical net. It had spun through the air and landed over Lyssa. At first glance, it seemed inert. Lyssa was still standing fast on the sphere, seemingly unaffected. Then her mind exploded in his with a sharp crack of sound, and she cried out. He felt a tearing in his chest, his limbs, as if he was being ripped apart. Though he’d never experienced it in such a direct way, he knew what was happening.

“Goddamn it,” he spat. Cayden barely glanced at him. Like everyone else, his attention was fixed on what was unfolding before them. Lyssa dropped to the sphere’s surface, convulsing. When done willingly, her Fae transition was a smooth, elegant process. Forced, it was this agonized contortion, as if his lady was becoming a monster. Long, backward-jointed legs emerged from beneath the skirt. Her arms, which bore a sharp curved hook at the elbow joint, the joining point for her wings, tore out of her dress. Her torso was attenuated like a sleek greyhound, the curve of rib cage, each individual bone, visible under the tattered remains of her dress.

She looked like a sensuous, dangerous gargoyle, poised over the stone archway of an ancient Goddess’s temple. Silver gray skin, long pointed ears, a barbed tail, lethal talons for fingers. Long fangs curved out over her chin, accenting the slim neck. Her leanly muscled form, the body of an ascetic hunter, had small breasts. With her clothing torn mostly off, her bare sex was readily apparent, the petals of the labia that same smooth silver gray.

His lady was not immodest, but this was different.

This was forced exposure, and it increased his rage, seeing how the Fae stared at the graphic display with fascinated revulsion.

“Just as I’d heard. It’s nothing like we’ve ever seen before.” Rhoswen spoke thoughtfully. Lyssa had struggled to her feet, her large dark eyes snapping with wild temper. Her wings snagged in the net, creating sparks. With a negligent flick of her hand, the queen expanded it into a wider holding area, so Lyssa could straighten them fully, fold them along her back. “You are ugly and revolting enough to be one of the lowest ranks of Unseelie, those who delight in frightening human children.”

Titters passed among the assembled, some unkind chuckles. When the stone shifted and freed Jacob, Cayden pul ed him up by the collar, giving him a warning look and holding him firmly with his men flanking him. He would be allowed to stand but not to interfere. Jacob didn’t know if that was worse than being irrevocably bound, but apparently the queen didn’t want him to miss a single detail. She wanted to humiliate Lyssa in front of her vampire servant as well. Jacob bared his fangs at the males but held his ground, his eyes sparking blue fire.

Rhoswen continued speaking. “Of course, because of your special… circumstances, some of the inexplicable bits of power you’ve displayed, it might suit us to keep you close while we determine what you will become. We may assign you to a consort of my choosing.”

“I can promise you that will not happen.” Her voice might rasp in this form, her vocal cords affected by the change, but the cool resolve he knew so well was in full force. In his peripheral vision, Jacob saw members of the court aping the way Lyssa spoke, using fingers to mock the fangs over her lips, or hunching over to imitate her back legs.

Those backward facing knees made her a powerful predator, allowing her to launch from hiding in the trees and pounce on wild prey.

His lady acknowledged none of it. When he extended a tendril into her mind, he found a solid ice center to her thoughts, capable of competing with Rhoswen’s frost. He didn’t pry into it, not right now.

That wasn’t what she needed from him.

Rhoswen raised a brow at Lyssa’s quiet declaration. “That net will keep you as I wish. You cannot change back into your humanoid form until I permit you to do so. I could touch your eye lids with one tiny drop of enchanted honey, and the first person I put before you would become your obsession, your heart’s desire for all eternity. Arrdol, for instance.”

She nodded toward a Fae at the front line of her retainers. He stepped forward, a tall, broad male dressed in black and silver. He possessed a fox like countenance and glittering dark eyes. “He has a taste for the unusual. I could assign your vampire lover as a slave to Arrdol’s household, and though he might be weeping and heartbroken right before you, you’d never again have a thought of him. Unless you needed your breakfast, or your chamber pot emptied. You would spread yourself for Arrdol whenever he deigned look your way, even if he openly despised you. And he would, because though he is intrigued by your uniqueness, he would spurn the heart of an aberration like you. Every member of my court would.”

A dry, harsh chuckle echoed through the chamber.

Lyssa spread out her taloned hands. She raked them across the net, sending out sparks. “If you are trying to frighten me, impress me with your cruelty, you might remember I’ve lived in the vampire world for more than a thousand years. In their version of your scenario, they wouldn’t use enchanted honey.

They’d want me to feel the weight of my captivity, my helplessness, and the tearing agony of watching my true love suffer. Perhaps it speaks well of you, that you’re not as practiced in the sadistic arts. I believe you summoned me for a reason, and that reason isn’t simply to humiliate me in front of your subjects.

A queen of your stature has far more pressing duties than that. Or at least she should, if she is a queen of worth.”

Rhoswen stared at her. The dense, high pressure that swept the chamber suggested to Jacob they might be on the cusp of annihilation, about to be frozen behind the watery walls as Rhoswen’s personal trophies. He saw it in the tightening of the muscles between Cayden’s wide shoulders. Then Rhoswen’s expression became that thoughtful façade again. She directed her words to the assembled group.

“It’s distracting, like hearing a pet talk. I keep expecting her to wag her tail and beg for a treat.” Though the assembled Fae laughed, there was a forced sound to it. Lyssa squatted on her haunches.

Spreading her wings, she shook them out with a flutter of motion, and curved her tail up around her ankles. Jacob thought it was like watching two queens on a chessboard, though Rhoswen had a lot more pawns at her disposal.

That ominous pressure shuddered through the room again, touched with ice as Rhoswen’s expression changed, her lip curling. “You may have Fae blood, but you are a mutation, a mistake. You cannot pretend Fae kinship. The fact you come here with a vampire beast as a lover merely confirms it.”

“Though I do not choose his people as my own, I honor my father,” Lyssa responded. Though he expected it was carefully calculated, Jacob had no doubt that what he heard in her voice was true anger.

“He was a high-court Fae, and he chose a vampire lover. Perhaps he did not find what he sought among the females here.”

“A petty insult doesn’t disguise the fact he chose poorly.” Rhoswen looked toward Jacob. He noted her sharp nails were moving in a pensive ripple along her thigh, teasing at the fabric of her skirt. “The pregnant vampire female fled, leaving him to meet his fate alone. Like this one would, if I did as I said and made him Arrdol’s slave. Right, vampire? If I gave her mind and soul to Arrdol, you’d flee this world as soon as I gave you leave.”

Jacob wiped the blood off his mouth with the back of his hand, then spat on the floor to get rid of the taste of it, close to Cayden’s boots. “I think my Mistress is right. You don’t know what love is. And though I don’t have your powers, Your Majesty, a vampire’s sense of smell is keen. You’re afraid of something you don’t understand.”

The strike from Cayden was expected, but the magical power added behind it was not. When he hit him in the face with the hilt of his sword, Jacob heard the sickening crunch of his nose and cheekbone, an explosion of pain that blinded him. As he staggered back in reaction, Cayden followed. Jacob forced his eyes back open just as Cayden lunged forward and drove his blade into his unprotected abdomen.

A second later, all hell broke loose.

Chapter 7

ALL the pressure that had been building between two irreconcilable forces detonated. Lyssa snarled like a savage animal, and that net of white fire exploded in a bill ow of orange flame. Even dropped to one knee, holding the blade in his gut, his vision blurry from his shattered nose, Jacob had the satisfaction of seeing the blast impact pick Cayden up and fling him into a cluster of retainers, toppling them like dominoes. Barely in time, Rhoswen threw up an additional protection over herself, a ripple of ice. The flame roared over it, bill owed the few steps up to her throne and swallowed the white wood like a ravenous dragon.

The two guards close to Jacob had not been affected by the blast, evidence that Lyssa had enough control of her reaction to cast a protection on Jacob and his immediate surroundings. However, as they broke out of their shock to start toward her, the element of surprise was now in his camp. Pain didn’t stop a vampire. Hell, it had rarely stopped him as a human third-mark, because his lady had taught him to embrace and use it in myriad ways.

Now he used the adrenaline and his rage to yank the sword from his midriff. Swinging the bloodstained blade, he tripped one guard with it and then flipped it to hit the other hard in the face with the pommel. He wished he was returning the favor to Cayden, rather than one of his men, but the crunch of bone was still satisfying. He stomped on the midriff of the tripped one to keep him incapacitated, and then braced himself, sword at the ready, as Cayden charged out of the tangle of fallen court members like an enraged bull. There was no hesitation in his forward charge, despite the fact he’d drawn a short knife and Jacob had his long blade. Jacob felt the sweet anticipation that came right before engaging an opponent as crazy with bloodlust as himself.

“Enough.” Rhoswen’s voice reverberated through the room. The shockwave from it rippled across the waterfalls and vibrated through the floor. Jacob held his position, unmoving, as Cayden came to a skidding halt right before the lifted blade. The point pressed into his broad chest, his face flushed with anger above it. The defiant glare the captain of the guard threw his queen was one Jacob knew all too well from situations where his lady had held him back from needed ass-kickings. He would have spared Cayden some empathy if he hadn’t obliterated such tender feelings by driving his sword in Jacob’s gut. A quick glance showed that Lyssa hadn’t moved from the top of the sphere. She stood where the queen thought she’d trapped her, only now it was clear that remaining there had been Lyssa’s choice.