The Queen's Flight (Emerging Queens) Read online

  “We heard the Queen’s call,” the Chimera said, speaking with his dragon head. He sounded like an accountant with a head cold. “Where is she, and why are there so many dead humans?”

  “The humans are from a group called the Cult of Humanity,” Sergei said.

  A moan from the house dragged their attention to Viola’s red goat head popping up from the wreckage. Damn it. Why couldn’t she stay unconscious until he took care of this idiot?

  “Well, hell-o sailor!” the red head said, evaluating the chimera up and down. More rabble from the house shifted and the white head poked up. “Sergei, you’re alive!”

  The Chimera bowed when Viola’s dragon head rose up. “Ow, my heads. Who are you?”

  “I’m Merrick,” the Chimera said. “I heard you call for me, and I came to your aid. Allow me to assist you.” Merrick moved in, but when Sergei blocked his path he asked, “Is he your Protector, my Queen?”

  “Huh? Sergei? Yeah, he’s helping me out.”

  Sergei gritted his teeth, as a familiar pain flooded over him. So much for his dreams of a quiet life in Vermont. Glancing over his shoulder at her, bleakness filled him. He was now her Protector.

  Even if she hadn’t known that naming him her Protector would be as binding as a legal contract, the other stud witnessed the declaration. He was shackled as neatly and efficiently as if he was a harem stud again.

  He’d hoped she was different.

  He’d been a fool.

  “Hey, is that our car?” Viola shook off the last of the debris from the house and plodded over to it. “Can one of you rip open the top or something so I can get my yarn out?”

  Giving orders already. Sergei hid his grimace with centuries of practice.

  “As my Queen commands.” Merrick moved around to do her bidding each of his three heads regarded Sergei thoughtfully. “My Queen,” he called. “Have you picked a consort yet?”

  “What? No.” Viola kicked bricks and lumber out of her way.

  “Good. Then you’ll allow me to be of service until you decide?”

  “Um sure?” she said.

  Sergei saw that Viola missed the deep satisfaction that crossed the Chimera’s face because she was fretting over her yarn bags.

  “You’ll follow my orders,” Sergei barked, regaining Merrick’s full attention.

  “As you wish,” Merrick’s heads nodded.

  “Well crap, the car’s slag. I guess we can hitchhike,” she said.

  “No,” Sergei said. “We fly.”

  “I’ll carry your things, my Queen,” Merrick said.

  “Oh that’s so nice of you, but I don’t know how to fly.”

  “Go jump off the cliff,” Sergei snarled.

  “Excuse me?” Viola said, tromping over to him. Sergei jerked his head to the far side of the field, which ended with a long drop. She trundled closer to get a better look. Merrick stood on her left and Sergei on her right. Merrick looked a little ridiculous carrying two large shopping bags of yarn. “Don’t drop any hanks, please,” she said.

  “I will protect them with my life.”

  “Um, okay.”

  They peered over the edge. They were staring down at treetops. Sergei watched Viola gulp a few deep breaths and back away.

  “Are you sure of this?” she asked. “I mean one time my uncle threw me into the deep end of the pool to teach me to swim, and all I learned how to do was swallow water and sink. I think I’m too fat to fly.” She said the last part in a rush.

  “My Queen,” Merrick said with a courtly bow “Watch me.”

  Viola’s goat head assessed his eagle wings.

  “If I can fly, so can you.” He fluttered them like eyelashes in her direction. Sergei had half a mind to boot him off the cliff.

  “Well, you all have those nice, big wings. Sergei’s look like a bat’s wings,” Viola pointed at him. He rolled them back with a snap that missed swatting the other stud by inches.

  “You’ve got bird wings”—Viola gestured at Merrick—“I’ve got these floppy, pretty, gossamer things that are useless. I wind up boxing my own ears every time I attempt flying.”

  “Stop flapping them then,” Merrick said. “Rotate them in a circle or a figure eight like a hummingbird, or twist them like a bee.”

  She was over thinking this. Sergei thought she just needed—“practice”—he said, and pushed her off the cliff.

  “Asshole!” All three of Viola’s heads shouted in unison as she fell.

  The two of them launched after her.

  “Unfurl your wings!” Merrick shouted. “Twirl them!”

  “Shit,” Sergei groaned and streamlined his dive to catch up to the flailing and plummeting Queen. He should let her fall. But then, what kind of Protector would he be? He’d be damned if he let a mewling newbie Queen erase thousands of years of service. Merrick nearly beat him to her, but when he flinched away from Sergei’s tail, Sergei grasped the Queen by her right arm. Merrick pushed up from underneath.

  “You chucked me off a mountain,” Viola said, scowling at him.

  “You’re flying aren’t you?”

  “This is embarrassing,” Viola said as the three of them plowed through the valley.

  “It’s an honor to escort you on your first flight,” Merrick said. “You are majestic and beautiful.”

  Sergei snaked his tail across Merrick’s neck. “Behave down there,” he growled.

  “So um, where are we going?” Viola asked.

  “To the safe house,” Sergei said.

  To give the Queen credit, she was doing her damnedest to fly, although she dropped like a lead balloon every time they let go of her. He expected her scent to change into something ugly once she ensnared him into serving her, but she still smelled like autumn and her infectious grin almost let him forgive her. Almost.

  “Wheee!” she chortled.

  Merrick seemed like a good sort. Sergei could have left her with him if she hadn’t named him Protector. He could have hibernated until the emerging Queens sorted themselves out.

  It wasn’t his job to babysit a human who’d barely learned to shift on command. He should have let Reed and Jack handle it. But no, he had to make sure she got away from Smythe.

  No good deed went unpunished.

  Even with Viola’s clumsy attempts at flight, they made it to the safe house in decent time.

  Flying out to greet them was a Gold Celtic dragon, and the power radiating off him seared across the distance. He was a Great Wyrm. Sergei hoped he was on their side.

  “Who the hell are you?” Sergei snarled.

  “Niall,” he said. “Welcome, Viola. You are safe with us. I’m Reed’s father.”

  Carolyn had called in the cavalry.

  “May I introduce the Queen’s court,” Sergei said, not bothering to keep the sneer out of his voice. “I am the Queen’s Protector.” He introduced Merrick, as potential consort, refusing to look at Viola.

  “Wait, what?” she asked.

  “Welcome,” Niall said, his ancient eyes twinkling with secrets and amusement.

  They didn’t call him the All Knowing for nothing, but Sergei wasn’t sure that he wanted the knowledge he saw in there. The force of Niall’s gaze forced Sergei to turn away.

  Chapter Eleven

  After a week of being treated like she was royalty, surrounded by utterly gorgeous and devoted men, and all of her yarn, Viola was thoroughly bored. And frustrated.

  Sergei was often nowhere to be seen. He would come back at night to guard her bedroom door, but didn’t speak a word to her unless she started the conversation. Even then, getting more than a clipped one word answer was almost impossible.

  She wanted to stab him with her knitting needle to get an honest reaction from him. She’d prefer to fight than have him hide his feelings from her. And they were getting on so well before the Cult had to screw things up.

  Merrick gave her some flying lessons to pass the time. She’d never be Amelia Earhart, but at least she didn’t drop lik
e a stone. When she wasn’t practicing, Viola knitted each of them scarves as a thank you.

  Fortunately this morning, Sergei had joined Viola and the studs for breakfast, although he’d given her only a curt nod. She’d been wondering how to thaw the ice between them when Niall spoke.

  “I think I’ve found a territory where you’ll be safe until the Queen’s Conclave,” Niall said. “Why don’t you find a nice lair in Africa?” He had a map spread out on the dining room table and pointed out each location with the tip of his fountain pen.

  “Hui Zhong will never let her have control of the tanzanite and diamond mines. You’re asking for her execution.” Sergei and Niall stared each other down and, for a moment, Viola thought something awful was going to happen. But then, Sergei pushed back from the table and stormed out of the kitchen. “Merrick, come with me.”

  “Oh goody,” Merrick said, yawning. “Maneuvers.”

  “Perhaps, My Queen, your Sergei’s temper would improve if you invited him into your bed tonight,” Niall said.

  “What?” Viola nearly snorted her omelet out her nose.

  “Or me, and to hell with his mood.” Merrick leaned down and kissed her forehead before going outside.

  “You did accept them into your court,” Niall told her kindly as she continued to gape at the kitchen door.

  “I didn’t think I was expected to give it up after only being introduced a few days ago.”

  “Why did you shackle Sergei to you? Don’t you realize he doesn’t want to be in a court?”

  Viola’s mouth dropped open. When she remembered to close it again she said, “I didn’t shackle him. I told Merrick Sergei was my Protector. But I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it like he was my escort—my babysitter. But I’d just gotten my bell rung by a house falling on my heads, and it all came out wrong. He’s not forced to stay with me. I figured he’d drop me off here and fly away. But he’s still here, and he suddenly hates me.” Her voice cracked on the last sentence and she made a production of drinking the last of her coffee to cover it up.

  Niall took her empty mug and put it in the sink. He came back with a steaming kettle and poured them both a cup of tea. “A Queen’s word is law. When you named him Protector, he had no choice.”

  Viola jumped up. “Then I’ll release him. I didn’t realize what I was doing.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Niall warned, but she was already out the door.

  “Sergei,” she called, cupping her hands to her mouth to amplify her voice. They were flying formations over the house, but she was pretty sure he could hear her. He pretended to ignore her, but when Merrick looked down, Sergei landed with a thump and a swishing tail.

  “You summoned me, my Queen,” he snarled, snaking his tail around him in a threatening manner.

  “Yes. No. I mean…”

  “I await your command,” he said with an icy composure that chilled her.

  “You’re free.” She waved her hands in a shooing motion.

  “Hardly.”

  “Can you shift? It’s hard to concentrate with your tail going all spastic.”

  “As my Queen commands.” Sergei shifted into his human guise, still lethal looking in molded black leather pants and a black cotton T-shirt.

  Viola wrung her hands. “I goofed. I didn’t know what I was saying when Merrick asked me if you were my Protector. I thought he was making sure that you weren’t like Smythe.”

  Some of the starch went out of Sergei’s shoulders, but the rest of him was stiff and unreadable.

  “I don’t know how to make this right. Do I sign a contract giving you your freedom?”

  He shook his head.

  “Well, damn it. Tell me the words. Or do I just say fuck off!”

  Sergei’s mouth twitched.

  “Sergei, you’ve saved my life twice now. I’ll be forever grateful.” Viola touched his shoulder and was glad he didn’t shake her off.

  “Actually, you saved yourself in the mountains,” he admitted. His frown eased and he looked her in the eye for the first time.

  Finally. Viola sighed.

  “I want you to be happy.” She clasped both his hands in hers. “You can go. I’ll be all right with Niall and everyone. I never wanted to trap you.”

  He stared into her, as if he would strip the truth from her soul. He must have been satisfied with what he saw because he nodded. “I believe you.”

  She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and dropped his hands. “Good. Well, I guess this is goodbye. I’m sorry about your motorcycle.”

  Viola stepped close and wrapped her arms around him. Startled, Sergei lifted his arms so she got closer. Giving him a tight squeeze, she fought to keep her hands chaste.

  What she really wanted to do was to explore all those muscles under the cotton T-shirt.

  It wasn’t fair—she’d finally found a guy who might actually want her for her, instead of for what she could give him, and it turned out she’d become too clingy without realizing it. So it was over before it began. Tears threatened and she scooted away, sniffling.

  “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” she said.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Did I say the words wrong?”

  “If you dismiss me now, the dragon community will think I did something so heinous or incompetent that you couldn’t bear to have me in your court. And instead of killing me for my affront you decided to heap shame on me by banishing me.”

  “But it’s not like that at all,” Viola said. “No one knows you’re my Protector but these guys.”

  “Word gets around.” Sergei was back to not looking at her again.

  “So I’ve ruined your life?” Viola whimpered.

  He shook his head. “You can release me at my request once I’ve performed a great feat for you.”

  “Okay, like what?” Viola didn’t know how she got into these messes, but she was going to get Sergei out of this.

  “I’m going to obliterate the Cult of Humanity.” He said it like it was as simple as ordering a pizza. I’ll have a large mozzarella with extra mushrooms—and I’ll take out the Cult that has oppressed my species for centuries.

  Viola’s mouth dropped. “You’re really pissed about the bike, aren’t you?”

  “They almost destroyed your yarn,” he pointed out with a smile.

  “Fuckers,” Viola snarled, suddenly onboard with the killing.

  “Not to mention almost killed us as well,” Sergei added.

  “How are we going to destroy the Cult when I’m going to be in Africa? Do you think there are sects there?”

  Sergei shrugged. “Instead of Africa, why don’t you take Greenland?”

  “Greenland?” Viola wrinkled her nose. “What’s in Greenland, aside from snow?”

  “Redemption,” he said so quietly Viola wasn’t sure she heard him.

  “Greenland’s been taken,” Niall said from the doorway. He was smoking a pipe and reading a book.

  “Which Queen?” Sergei asked.

  Viola put a steadying hand on his chest. The tension radiated off him, as if he was about to burst into a thousand pieces.

  “Mei Hua,” Niall said. “She was a Queen before Lerisse died. One of the very few who were able to shift before the curse was up. Esmeralda kept her in her temple to service the studs she didn’t want.”

  Viola winced.

  Sergei put a reassuring hand on her arm. “That will never happen with you.”

  “Anyway,” Niall said with a small smile playing around his lips. “Mei Hua has eggs she wishes to protect and has taken off to Greenland with Joachim and the Order of the Dragon Slayers. She wants to make sure the father or fathers don’t claim the children, so any dragon stepping foot or flying over Greenland will be executed.” Niall tapped the pipe against the house to dislodge the tobacco that still remained.

  “She doesn’t have the authority to take a territory and make policy,” Sergei said, his hand protective on Viola.
“Not until the Conclave.”

  Niall shrugged. “You can tell her that, but I suggest you do it from a distance. She has the entire Order of the Dragon Slayers on her side.”

  “Aren’t they the bad guys?” Viola asked.

  “They only take out the dragons who have caused humanity to suffer,” Niall reassured her.”

  “But how do they kill them? I thought only a dragon could kill another dragon.” Viola looked to Sergei for confirmation.

  “Well, back when the humans came at us with swords and shields, yes. And while you saw Sergei take a clip from an automatic rifle, he would have died if he wasn’t so in tune with the weave. Enough physical damage will destroy the physical body. But the dragon’s spirit won’t go into the weave unless he is killed by another dragon.” Niall’s hands made convoluted shapes in the air.

  “What weave?”

  “It has nothing to do with yarn,” Sergei stage whispered in her hair.

  “I wasn’t thinking that.” She yanked her arm free and slugged him.

  “The weave is all around us,” Niall continued. “It is where the dragons get their magic. It is where our souls go when we die.”

  “That’s deep,” Viola said, pursing her lips. If she let her eyes go unfocused she could almost see the weave. It looked like a big yin yang symbol. Red for the males and blue for the females. Something called to her, but she didn’t know if she was just imagining it or not. The yin part reminded her of the stockinette stitch, all bumps and vees.

  Niall smiled. “A dragon doesn’t truly die unless his spirit enters the weave. The older they are, the tougher to kill.” Niall gave her a sardonic smile.

  As Niall was plenty old, Viola wondered if that was a not-so-subtle jibe at Sergei.

  “So how did the Order of Dragon Slayers get their name? Did they slay dragons or not?” Viola pulled up a chair and sat down. It had a bag with yarn and needles hanging off the armrest. Did her studs know her or what?

  “Oh yes. They’ve hunted us for as long as our history goes back. It’s only been in more modern times that we’ve declared a truce. They’re not fanatics like the Cult of Humanity. The Cult wishes to destroy all dragons. The Order wishes to maintain the status quo.” Niall was on a roll. It was easy to see why he was popular with his students at Yale. He had a mesmerizing voice. Viola did her magic loop technique and cast on socks for Niall. She had a thick homespun wool in shades of reds and golds that would look nice on him.