Crimson Death Page 67
I turned back to Scaramouche. “I’m sorry you’re hurt, but even if you managed to take the crown from Rafael, your rat king, I would not make you my beast half, or my lover. If what you want is to be closer to Jean-Claude’s throne and me, then hurting my lovers gains you nothing.”
Green with pain, his leg bent damn near backward, he glared up at me from his dark brown eyes with more anger than pain, and more arrogance than I’d have been able to manage if it had been me. “I would make a better king for the rats, and do not turn down what you have not tasted, for I know that what I would serve you would be far sweeter than anything you have had before.”
“Wow,” Sin said, “with four of us standing right here and you’re going to insult all of us.”
“I know my worth,” Scaramouche said.
Hortensio said to Sin, “You are a boy. He”—motioning at Nathaniel—“is a catamount more skilled with men than women. The Rex is as brutal in bed as he is in the ring. No woman wants that kind of brutality.”
Nathaniel, Sin, and Nicky all laughed at the same time. I said, “You’ve got to know your audience, and you obviously don’t.”
“What about me?” Magda asked.
“You are a woman,” Hortensio said. “You are not competition in this arena.”
I felt the warm rush of energy from her before the low, soft growl trickled from between her human lips. “You have always been a fool.”
Hortensio took a step toward her, which put him closer to me, but he was looking over my head at Magda. “Back up,” I said. He ignored me. I hit him with a short jab in the solar plexus. He’d been totally unprepared, so it took all the wind out of him and doubled him over. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled it down as I drove my knee up as fast and hard and as many times as I could. I’d caught him completely by surprise, so he never even tried to fight back. When I saw blood pouring over my leg and onto the mat, I shoved him away from me and he crumpled to his side on the floor. He didn’t move. His lower face was a mass of blood so thick that I wasn’t even sure how much damage I’d done. I knew his nose was broken. His eyes were open, but like after the punch that had staggered Nicky, they weren’t focusing.
Pierette looked pale and a little less sure of herself. Scaramouche still looked angry and arrogant, in pain and nauseous, but there was something new in his dark eyes. I think it was uncertainty. He’d made his plans on the idea that I wouldn’t be able to fight back. I think he was reevaluating that. Good.
“I am your queen, Hortensio; that means when I say back up, you back the fuck up!”
“I don’t think he can hear you,” Sin said.
“Then Pierette and Scaramouche can repeat it to him later, right?” I said, looking at Pierette mostly.
She let go of Scaramouche’s hand and knelt in front of me, putting her head to the floor in front of my feet; it was about as low a bow as she could make. Her hands were politely back near her shoulders so that her head was the only thing near my feet. It was the real deal, but then she’d had centuries to practice bowing in all sorts of ways.
“She’ll stay like that until you tell her to rise,” Jake said.
“That sort of works for me right now,” I said.
Jake made a little movement with his mouth like I’d surprised him but pleased him at the same time. “You are the queen.”
“That’s right, I am, and the next time one of you forgets that, it won’t be my knee that I use to bloody you. Is that clear, Scaramouche?”
“Are you saying you will kill us yourself?”
“No, that is not what she is saying,” Jake said, quickly.
“I don’t want to kill you, damn it. It’s a waste of centuries of talent and power, but if you force me to make the decision, I will.”
“I believe you,” Scaramouche said.
Pierette’s voice was muffled against the floor as she said, “Yes, my queen.”
“Get up, Pierette.”
She raised her head slowly, cautiously. “Do you wish me to stand, my queen?”
“Stay with Scaramouche, or stand. I don’t care; just don’t do anything stupid.”
“Yes, my queen.”
“You have tamed another leopard, Anita,” Scaramouche said.
“How about you, Hortensio? Are you still going to be a pain in my ass, or have I made myself clear?”
He had his hands pressed gingerly over his nose. It made his voice sound odd, but it was understandable as he said, “Very clear, my queen.”
I looked down. “And you, Scaramouche? Are you tamed?”
“I will never be tamed by anyone save my master.”
“Then are we clear?”
He wasted a serious hate-filled look at Nicky, then looked back at me. “You and your Bride have been most clear.”
“Great, then we won’t have any more problems between us.”
“We will not disrespect you, but we have a problem, our queen.”
“And what would that be?” I asked.
“That the people you are having sex with have acquired our old speed and skills, or regained them in the case of Magda and other Harlequin in your bed, while those of us not in your graces continue to lose both skills and power.”
I opened my mouth, closed it, and looked at Jake. “Is he right?”
Jake sighed, shrugged, and then said, “It is not a hundred percent certain, but as a hypothesis it has unfortunate merit.”