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Her I wanted to eat. I shrugged off the little fae, her strength no match for mine, and stalked after the cruel one.
“You can’t best me,” she taunted. “Not like that. I doubt you could in your sorceress form either. You always were too meek.”
Old rage flickered into life from some deep corner of me. She had not been meek or fragile. She—no, I—I’d done my best and, more, I’d survived and overcome what they’d tried to do to me. Hell, I’d sacrificed my life to stoptheirqueen. And now she wanted to make out like I was the meek one? Fuck that.
I flexed, stretching my own being outward, folding the cat back into my soul and reassembling my flesh back from hers.
“Fuck you, Marquise,” I said, straightening and dressing myself with a thought, making sure my ring and earrings made it back with me, from whatever singularity of mass and space we’d been tucked into. “And your perverted brother too.”
Starling, sobbing, launched herself at me. “You’re okay! How can you be whole again? Gwynn, you were—”
“I know.” Torn asunder. Dead. And yet, here I’d managed to reassemble myself in total health. Surely that wasn’t possible. And yet, clearly it was.
I surveyed the room.
Athena, undaunted as always bounced up and sheathed her dagger. “Welcome back, Gwynn. About time.”
Goliath, a gangly young fae with Darling’s green eyes, gave me a happy smile and a bow. A purr filled my head.
“You’re welcome,” I told him. “And thanks for the help with the Queen Bitch. We’re even.”
He nodded, beaming.
“He’s not talking.” Fafnir eyed him with speculation. “It’s possible he never will.”
Too long with a cat’s brain. I viscerally got how that could happen.
A boom shook the castle. Something like fireworks shot overhead.
Walter craned his neck back. “Shit’s getting real.”
“What’s going on?” I could rewind some of the conversation, not all. I understood now more of what Rogue meant about being the Dog. What you did and didn’t know.
“Gwynn.” Starling wiped her tears and squared her shoulders. “The baby—”
“I know about that part,” I interrupted. And couldn’t think about it right then. Time for mourning later. Rogue would expect me to step up and defend his—our—castle. I seriously doubted he’d be coming back. “We’re under attack still? By whom?”
Marquise, Scourge and Fafnir stared back at me. Goliath wondered if we’d have mice for lunch.
“Pretty much everyone not in this room,” Fafnir told me in a dry tone. “It seems the…gap in leadership proved too great a temptation.”
“Fortunately,” Scourge put in, “they’ve been busy fighting each other.”
“What about Puck?”
“That one.” Marquise shook her head over his imagined antics. “Who knows? We haven’t seen him in some time.”
“And Lady Healer?” She should have been here long ago. Mistress Nancy lay on a pallet of blankets on the floor. I didn’t need to look at the blood-soaked bed to understand why. “Nancy needs her help.”
Starling and Athena exchanged unhappy looks, while Goliath growled and Fafnir nodded. “One of the first to throw in with General Falcon.” Apparently she’d taken the opportunity to ignore Rogue’s summons in favor of her own ambitions.
“Take the silver off Walter,” I ordered.
Scourge opened his mouth to protest, but Marquise stopped him. “He’s ready enough. He’s not likeher. Not nearly so stubborn.”
“I’m standing right here,” I reminded them and they blew me kisses.
“We can’t help that you’re our favorite sorceress.” Scourge gave me a lascivious grin. “Now that Rogue is out of the picture, perhaps we—”
