The Queen of All that Lives
Page 90

I pull out one of my guns but don’t bother aiming it. Not yet.
Is it Marco? A representative? My executioner?
My money is on this last one.
The door that’s been locked since I entered now creaks open.
I wait as a shadow enters the room. It’s big enough for me to know it’s a man, probably a soldier on active duty.
I wait, studying the individual while they cross the floor and head towards my bed. Their eyes clearly haven’t adjusted, or else they’d know I was no longer in it.
Now I point the gun.
“Were you planning on killing me in my sleep?” I rise to my feet slowly as I speak, gun still trained on my target.
“My queen.”
Styx.
He’s going to come for you at some point.
I step away from the window, my aim trained on Styx’s chest. “Or were you simply going to rape me?”
Styx isn’t like Montes. He might want me just as the king did all those years ago, but at least then the king had struggled with the morality of the situation. This man hasn’t. I sense that if he gets the chance, he’ll assault me and he’ll enjoy it.
Just knowing that has me putting pressure on the trigger.
“I came to talk,” he says. I see his silhouette lean against the wall next to my bed.
“And that’s why you knocked.” If I shot this man now, how would that affect my meeting with the representatives? It’s very, very tempting.
“I still can’t believe you’re real,” he says in a hushed tone. “That you have a personality behind that face. I’ve wondered what you would be like. I didn’t imagine this.”
He takes a step forward, out of the shadows. The moonlight catches the contours of his face. It brings out his scars. He looks more monster than man.
“That’s the last step you get,” I say. “Move towards me again, and you’re going to bleed.”
He lifts his hands in the air, like that’ll appease me. “I wanted to speak privately with you.”
“There’s no such thing as privacy here, Garcia.”
“I don’t want to talk about politics,” he says.
That leaves personal affairs. “We have nothing else to talk about.”
“Come now, my queen, we will be working closely together in the coming days, and you need friends in this world.” He’s the worst type of predator. I’m amazed that after everything he’s seen of me, and after that sneaky entrance of his, he still thinks he can convince me to let down my guard.
“You think I’ve never come across men like you? You think I haven’t killed men like you?” I say. “There are cemeteries of them beneath this earth.”
“Are you trying to scare me?” He hasn’t dropped his jovial act.
“My first victims were exactly like you. Big men who thought that they could take advantage of a little girl. They picked the wrong girl.”
Attached to Garcia’s side I can see the handle of a wicked knife. It’s the kind of weapon that you used to subdue someone. Place it right next to their jugular and you’ll get a person to cooperate real well.
I have no doubt he was going to use that on me.
“I don’t know who you think I am,” Styx says, starting to sound aggravated, “but I came here to get to know you. Nothing more.”
“I don’t want to know anything about you,” I say, “and I sure as hell don’t want you know anything about me.”
In the moonlight, I see his expression tighten. Any minute now he’s going to get violent. Fortunately for me, a bullet moves faster than a full grown man.
“Now,” I say, “get the fuck out of my room, or I will shoot your dick off.” I’m tempted to anyway. I have an unhealthy amount of violence for predators.
The seconds tick by, and he doesn’t move. Just when I’m about to pull the trigger, the corner of his mouth lifts. “You will be fun to tame.” His voice—hell, his entire demeanor—changes.
Shoot him, shoot him, shoot him, my heart chants.
I can’t. Not yet, anyway.
My upper lip curls. “Get. Out.”
He inclines his head. Still keeping his hands in the air, he backs up, towards the door. The barrel of my gun follows him. I know enough about men to know that this one is obscenely dangerous. Not the same way Montes is. Styx is not terribly strategic or calculating.
He’s just evil.
“I’ll see you in a few hours,” he says when he reaches for the knob. “Sleep well.”
As soon as he leaves the room, I sag against the window.
That was far too close a call.
It’s only once the sun peaks out from between the mountains that someone else comes for me.
These footfalls are not quiet, which is a relief. If Styx Garcia came for me again, I wouldn’t give him the benefit of the doubt.
The door to my room opens, and I see a familiar face. Chief Officer Collins stands with a group of soldiers out in the hallway.
“It’s good to see you again, Your Majesty,” Collins says by way of greeting.
The feeling isn’t mutual.
He and the soldiers march me to the Iudicium’s main room, the same place where, only weeks ago, I agreed to kill the king.
Twelve representatives wait for me. I bite back my disappointment when I see that thirteenth seat once again unoccupied.
My plan hinged on having all thirteen representatives gathered in a single room.