I pulled Sarrat out of my sheath. Holland pulled a sword out of the scabbard on his hip. Dark, with a no-nonsense epoxy and leather grip, the blade ran about nineteen inches long and at least an inch and a half wide, with a profile that fell somewhere between a falchion and a Collins machete. Holland held it like he’d gotten it dirty before.
If we got Beau’s deputy injured, we could kiss the sheriff’s cooperation good-bye.
I moved toward the light, walking nice and slow, careful where I put my feet. The two shapeshifters glided on both sides of me. I could barely hear Holland behind me. It wasn’t his first time in the woods either.
The trees parted. A clearing spread before us, unnaturally circular, as if some giant had dropped a huge coin in the middle of the woods and forgotten about it for a decade or two. The grass covered the ground, but no trees had managed to encroach on the clearing. The growth around us was new too, the trees tall but thinner than those half a mile back by the river. Must’ve been a fire a few years back.
I walked to the edge of the clearing. An old woman stood in the light with her right side to me. She wore a pair of beige pants, a white collared blouse with matching beige polka dots, and a white knitted cardigan. It had to be ninety-five degrees, I was sweating like a pig, and here she was, wrapped in wool.
Holland shouldered his way to the front. “Mrs. Boudreaux? I’m Deputy Holland. I need you to come with me.”
No reaction.
“Mrs. Boudreaux!”
She didn’t even turn.
I walked toward her, sword in hand. Holland caught up to me, while Ascanio and Derek fanned out to the sides.
“Mrs. Boudreaux?” I asked.
She turned to me. The whites of her eyes had yellowed and the red veins stood out, fat with blood. She stared at me.
Holland smiled at her. “Mrs. Boudreaux, it’s me, Robby Holland. I’m Gladys Holland’s son. You used to knit together, remember?”
She peered at him, swiveling her neck at an angle, like a puzzled dog.
“We were all very worried when you walked off. You didn’t even say where you were going.” His voice was slightly chiding. “And it’s hot out here. Let’s get you off this mountain and into some nice cool shade. What do you say?”
Jene opened her mouth. “Little prick.”
Nice.
“There is no cause for strong language,” Holland said. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to insist you come with me.”
The old lady turned to me. “You’re her. You’re his bitch daughter.”
Thanks for the reputation bump, Dad. “Yes, I am.”
She stared at me, her gaze unsettling.
Try me and see how bitchy I can be.
“I could serve you,” she said. “I’m powerful. I have magic. I can blight things. Look, I made this.” She pointed to the clearing. “Ten years and nothing except grass grows. I’m quiet and hard to kill.”
Wow.
She was trying to peer at me over Holland’s shoulder and her eyes, wide open and unblinking, made her face deranged. A darker yellow, like the color of a rotten citrus, was flooding her irises.
“I can do things for you. Magic things. But I need food. You feed me and I do things for you.” She nodded. “Bring me children. The poor ones. Nobody cares about the poor ones.”
Next to me Derek tensed. Holland stared at her, openmouthed.
“How many?” I asked.
“Not many. One or two a month. Children are easier. Soft bones.”
“Alpha?” Ascanio’s voice held a note of warning.
“Have you eaten many children?” I asked. “I need to know if their parents will cause problems.”
“Only two,” she said. “Years ago. No problems. I threw the bones in the trash. You own the land. I’m the land’s creature, so I will serve you and you’ll bring me food and guard me from the bigger creatures. It’s a good bargain.”
“No,” I told her.
Derek pulled off his shoes. On the other side of me Ascanio did the same.
I shook my head. “You’re an evil thing that eats children. There is no place for you here.”
“You can’t pick and choose,” she said. “I’m part of the land. I was born here. All my people were born here, many generations. I belong here.”
“You should’ve stuck to birds,” I said.
“You can’t have the good without the bad,” she said. “Some creatures eat grass and some creatures eat the grass eaters. We are all born for a reason. You must have monsters to protect your land, and I will protect it well. If you need something, I will do it. I won’t even eat humans, only the ones you bring me.”
“No.”
“You must have servants to do things for you. I can be one. It’s a good bargain. This is your land and I’m your creature.”
A part of me, the deep dark part that felt the magic pulse last night, puzzled over it and decided that she wasn’t unreasonable. The land spawned this monster and I guarded the land, so she was one of mine, too. They were all mine and I could use her.
There it was. Small decisions. Kate Daniels, Queen of the Monsters.
“You are right. You are mine. If you hadn’t harmed anyone, I could have let you find a place of your own away from everyone. But you’ve eaten human children and you want to do it again. There are rules in my lands and you broke them. I’m not here to make bargains. I’m here to punish.”