Dark Queen - Page 16/94

“Kemnebi is my beta,” I said. “I am his alpha. He attacked me without provocation and outside of proper hierarchy practices and traditions. It’s my right to . . .” Not punish. The word came to me. “To rebuke him.”

“You know the Merged Laws of the Cursed of Artemis,” Nantale said, surprised.

The book of were law was on my bedside table. I had flipped through it, then read the most pertinent parts, like how to deal with were-creature chain of command, if the situation ever presented itself. Most of were law was bloody and full of domination tactics.

Beast had liked most of it. I hadn’t. My Beast moved closer in my mind, listening with the same attention she gave a hunt.

I didn’t respond to the catwoman, but continued speaking to Rick. “His actions against you, while cruel, were within his rights as spurned mate. But his actions against me were improper and constitute attempted murder of his alpha. He attacked without challenge. It’s also my . . .” Oh crap. I went blank. “Ummm. It’s my right to . . .” Not punish him. And then it came to me. “My right to renegotiate his status as a way of saving his life.”

I bent down to the dying cat. He was lying in a pretty big pool of blood and his breathing was getting more shallow. “I remove Kemnebi from his official status, placing him as my zed, the least of all my people. In retaliation for his attack, I seize all his worldly goods and all his subordinate cats. Rick LaFleur, you are now my second in command, my beta, and I give you Kemnebi. You are now his alpha.”

Rick started laughing, a sound more like grief than amusement.

I glanced up at my honeybunch. Bruiser was watching me with unsmiling eyes. He had helped me research this part of were-creatures’ social structure. He knew what I had to do to save Kem’s life. I didn’t like the cat, but still . . . “I wish my former beta to live”—liar, liar—“in shame,” I added more truthfully. “I gift my new beta with all Kemnebi’s worldly goods and status and cats.” I looked at Rick. He was watching me. “In recognition of my gift of your augmented status, you will force Kemnebi to shift to his cat form and save his life, making him your blood beta and beholden to you.” Blood beta was a tricky path to negotiate. It was a lot like winning a vamp’s clan but more. I hoped Rick was up to it. “Do you agree?”

Rick was looking down at the cat who had connived to make his life a hell. “I do. But I don’t like it at all.”

“Can you force him to shift even with silver in his blood?”

Rick frowned. “Yes.”

I leaned over and dipped the fingers of my right hand into Kem’s blood and held out that hand to Rick. He clasped my hand in his and we shook on it. Not everything in were culture required teeth. “Do not disappoint me, beta.”

Rick, still holding my bloody hand, said softly, “I will never again disappoint or pain my alpha.”

“Ummm.” That said a lot more than I wanted it to, but if Kem was to live, we’d have to renegotiate the wording later. I released my grip on Rick’s hand and started to step away.

My new beta held on. His eyes were glowing cat-green and when he spoke there was a purring growl in his throat. “I’ve never done this, only read about it. It would be easier if I was in cat shape, and so I may need help.” He dropped to his knees and shoved his free hand into Kem’s wound. I felt were-power in Rick’s palm grow, a buzzing, hot-cold mist-smoke of electricity. And then I felt Rick do . . . something. He drew on my own power, and I felt the Gray Between bend and stretch, the way it might if I had hooks in my flesh and he tugged on them. “This will do,” he rumbled. He held the bloodied hand to his mouth and licked Kem’s blood. Our connection was so close I could taste the blood, sickly and silvered. Gack, ick.

Good werecat blood, Beast thought. Beast is best hunter.

I didn’t respond.

Beast would kill Kem-cat.

Yeah, I thought back. Not happening.

Three limbed, Rick crawled over Kem’s body, as if mounting the dying cat, and placed his mouth at the man’s ear, saying, “My blood to your blood. My will over your will. Moon to moon.” His voice dropped to a growl. “You are mine.” Even deeper, the growl nearly as deep as Brute’s: “Shift.”

I felt the were-magics sparkle through me and over my skin like an electrified mist, scalding and frigid at once. Kemnebi’s flesh began to lose cohesiveness. A pale fog sifted from his skin, blurring. Dark lights sparkled through the haze, looking like black crystals. Kemnebi was the first were-creature the human world had ever seen, the first I had seen shift, all on TV when the paras came out of the closet.

The black lights surrounding him darkened, deepened. His bones popped and crunched as they shortened or lengthened, the joints changing shape. Black hair sprouted over the visible part of his body and his spine curved in and then arched out. The feline canines in his gums elongated and his jaw and skull took on catlike contours. His flesh rippled, stretched. Rick released my hand and bent to the side, still crouched, still holding his own shape in the midst of the were-energies. Three minutes passed, and at last a breathing, black-coated jungle cat lay on the floor in the pool of blood and ruined clothing he had lost as a man. In the shadows, the muted spots of the leopard weren’t visible at all.

Rick . . . held his human shape.

I stepped away. Checked the ceiling. The grindy was staring at Asad, as if he might taste good. He might have had vampire help, but I had a feeling that the alpha cat here, a bigwig in the International Association of Weres and the Party of African Weres, had engineered this visit to sub-five, though maybe the outcome had been a surprise. Had the werewolves been supposed to start a were-vamp war by killing the SOD or kidnapping Brute, further weakening Leo’s power base and keeping him distracted from Titus’s actions? Crap. Plans within treachery within peril.

Nantale joined Rick and the black leopard on the floor, Nantale pulling the large cat onto her lap and scratching his ears. Rick stood to his feet, looming over his former enemy, the man he had just saved, his hands fisted at his sides, his clothes bloody. My ex was a seriously pretty man, even caught up in whatever emotional whirlpool he was swimming in, even with the heavy silver streaks in his black hair and the deeper lines etched into his skin.

I took several slow steps back, closing the distance to Bruiser. I stopped when my shoulders nestled against the warmth of his chest. One arm closed around me again and he whispered, “I don’t think anyone could have done better, considering that Kem attacked and the cats had been plotting something involving the Son of Darkness. You poled the waters well.”

Poling the waters was an old Louisiana phrase that meant I had steered my way through the currents and the obstacles. I wasn’t used to praise of any kind and I ducked my head in pleasure. This was as close to bliss as I ever got, being with Bruiser, knowing I was loved, accepted, approved of. But I had work to do. I touched his hand in apology and stepped away.

Rick knelt again. Kem batted Rick’s hand with his large paw; head-butted Rick’s chest, knocking him to his backside on the clay floor; crawled into his alpha’s lap; and curled up, covering Rick’s legs and most of his torso. He plopped his head on Rick’s knee. Rick looked as surprised as I felt. “What am I supposed to do?” Rick asked, finding my eyes in the shadows.

“This is the tricky part,” I said.

Asad explained, his voice no longer bored, as he bent and stroked Kem’s side. “A blood beta is . . . domesticated. Tamed. He will do or be whatever you need him to be.”

“But alive,” I said. “Better than dead.”

“His possessions, his position in were society, and his mates are yours,” Asad said to Rick.

Rick jerked slightly, as if he’d stuck his fingers in a light socket. “Mates?”

Asad was clearly amused when he said, in a laconic tone, “Yes. Kemnebi has taken four mates.”

“Four?”

Oops. I hadn’t known about the mates. I had thought the woman who turned Rick was Kem’s only mate.

“If you give them a choice, they will choose to stay with you, as they are accustomed to comfortable lives and will not wish to return to the wild and to hunting, even to find freedom.”