Dark Queen (Jane Yellowrock #12)

“You had an unusual history,” he continued before I could speak. “I wanted to meet you. And if things went well, ask you to take me when I presented papers and letters to Leonard Pellissier, letters of introduction.”

That, I thought. That was what was wrong with this entire scenario. Ayatas wanted info and maybe the opportunity to be present at the fight to the death between the Master of the City, Leo Pellissier, and the European vampire emperor, Titus Flavius Vespasianus. And he wanted me to give it to him.

“So you show up here, planning to give PsyLED a finger on the pulse of the upcoming Sangre Duello,” Eli said. It was his battle voice, soft, unforgiving, ready to kill. He was angry that the man had intended to forge and then use a personal relationship with me to get to Leo. Using me. Why not ask Rick to do this? My ex had his fingers in every pie there was.

“Yes. I . . . I reacted badly to your scent. I shot you. At you. I don’t know why I shot at you or why I missed.” He closed his eyes, his scent smelling of shock and fear, strong and harsh on the air. He had shot at someone while technically on the job, revealing an unexpected lack of control. Professional suicide. That seemed to be sinking in. Ayatas went on. “I put too many of my hopes in this one small basket, in this one meeting. I ruined it and I can’t even explain to you why, except that your scent triggered something in me. I thought you were black magic. The thing our kind fears most. I am sorry, e-igido.”

“What’s eigido?” Eli asked, mangling the word.

The tears I was trying to blink away spilled over and dashed down my cheeks.

I remembered the word as he spoke. The word in his first line when he still stood uninjured at the door.

“E-igido,” I whispered, finally placing the term. “E-igido means ‘my sister.’” I was an only child. My father died when I was five years old, killed by white men in front of me. He might smell of truth, but this man lied. For reasons I couldn’t explain, that final lie cut deep.





CHAPTER 2


    Lots of Bloody Bubbles





The man claiming to be my brother was no longer in the room with us, though to be fair, with skinwalker hearing he probably could hear us chatting.

Littermate, Beast thought at me. I ignored her. It was impossible.

“He knows just enough to have done his research,” Alex said. “Most everything he said is either on video on YouTube or in Reach’s data files. Just because Reach is hiding from us doesn’t mean he’s dead. He might have sold the info to PsyLED.”

Reach had been the best researcher in the paranormal world. He maintained he had been tortured for his data and then had disappeared, not that we had undisputed evidence of his claim. We had acquired most of his files, and Alex, the electronic genius of Yellowrock Securities, had married the files into our own, making Alex the researcher at the top of the heap.

“His scent,” I said, laying back my head on the sofa and closing my eyes against the headache. I was exhausted and even the hazy daylight through the windows still hurt. “He has a natural floral scent. Just like the vamps said.” There had been a yellow-eyed Cherokee in the city over a hundred years ago, and she had smelled like flowers. “I don’t think my Tsalagi birth name or my clan name is on record anywhere. Aggie One Feather hasn’t shared it. I insulted her when I called to ask. And Beast called him littermate. He’s my kinsman. If not my brother, then half brother. Cousin at the very least. But I was an only child. I didn’t have a brother or sister; only hints and blurred images of my mother and not much more of my father. I don’t know how . . . I don’t know anything.” I raised my voice though it sent a spike of pain through my head. “Edmund, you making nice-nice?”

The shelving unit blocking the vamp’s stone-lined sleeping quarters opened just enough to allow his voice to emerge. “No, my mistress.”

Ayatas shouted from the same place, “I’m not letting a fanghead suck on me!”

The door shut. I was Edmund Hartley’s mistress—not his lover, but his master—and I could have ordered the vampire to drink Ayatas down and read him like a book. But I hated the idea of abusing a PsyLED officer, even one who had tried to kill me. I also detested the idea of forcing Ed to do something that he found to be inexcusable. “I loathe the very concept of drinking down someone who might be your brother. This is family and family are sacrosanct, even when they try to kill us,” he’d said. Which was weird, but knowing Ed’s history, the statement sorta made sense. He was right. I was ashamed.

I laid an arm over my eyes, and a moment later Alex murmured, “Lift your arm. I have a cold compress for your head.”

I dropped my arm and something cool and gel-like settled in its place. No one said anything else about my little problem. My headaches were scary to the boys, since they might mean the genetic damage that had resulted from playing around in time had given me some kind of brain trauma. Or not. Maybe I was just getting migraines. Timewalking and headaches didn’t have to be cause and effect.

Eli’s cell rang. “It’s Soul. Okay if I do the talking?”

“Knock yourself out,” I said.

“Eli Younger here. Thank you for calling us back. We have a visitor, a man who claims to be PsyLED.” He didn’t mention that Alex had already been inside PsyLED’s databases and confirmed Ayatas’s identity and employment records and the claims about his personnel folder. “Claims he’s Rick LaFleur’s boss and your direct underling. Ayatas FireWind.”

“That is correct.” Soul’s voice came over the speaker. We heard clicking as she tapped on a keyboard. “He was originally in charge of five western states, but last year he requested a move to the eastern seaboard. The transfer was granted only a few weeks ago. I see from an e-mail earlier today that he was going to request assistance in meeting Leo Pellissier from Jane.” There was an odd tone in her voice, an eagerness I hadn’t expected. “Is that why you’re calling?”

“Not exactly. He tried to kill Jane.”

There was silence after his words, and if silence had a sharp edge, this one would have cut the air. “An officer of PsyLED tried to kill the Enforcer of the Master of the City of New Orleans?” Soul was carefully using titles now. I had to wonder why. “He was unsuccessful? How?”

“Yes and yes. With his service weapon.”

“Why?”

“Said her scent triggered something in him. Couldn’t really say.”

“I see. Jane’s scent is . . . unusual and—” Her voice cut off abruptly. “FireWind is dead?”

“No. Jane dodged the bullet.”

“Dodged a bullet. I see.” There was another silence as Soul put things together. She knew I could timewalk. That was the name she had given to what some species could do, including her species, the arcenciels, or rainbow dragons. We had chatted a week ago, getting me up to speed on what was happening to me, though I hadn’t told her about the headaches. Soul wasn’t part of Yellowrock Securities, so that was still under wraps.

“He can’t dodge bullets?” Eli said, asking if Ayatas could step outside of time.

She didn’t answer the question, saying instead, “Ayatas had hoped that his possible relationship with Jane would speed a meeting with Leo. Time is short.”

“You know Leo. Rick LaFleur knows Leo. Why does PsyLED need Jane?”

“PsyLED has tried three times in the last week to arrange a meeting with the Master of the City of New Orleans, through formal channels, and we’ve been shut down.”