Chapter 13

Gideon approached Legna quietly, not wanting to make any distracting sounds as she sat deeply entrenched in her meditation. He sensed clearly the order she was putting her mind into, the thoroughness she used to catalog the new infusion of his power she had been adjusting to ever since they had become fully Imprinted.

By meditating as she was, she was helping to keep at bay anything other than the focus on her approaching foray into enemy territory. A visitor in her mind so regularly, Gideon had a renewed respect for the strength and mental discipline it took to manage her empathy. Without that impressive will, she would have been driven insane by the sheer amount of random emotion people were constantly projecting every minute of every day. Her control was perfect and kept everything about her neatly restrained.

Everything, perhaps, except how beautiful she looked to him. Better yet, she was being beautiful in his home, the place where he had spent so many solitary centuries never truly realizing what he had been missing. She sat centered on an antique Persian rug, the design unfolding all around her as she maintained her cross-legged position. Gideon realized then how much his passion for her seemed to be growing with every day and every minute they spent together. Even this separate togetherness, when she was deep into her own tasks and he was in his, was a prime example. Of course, his task at the moment consisted mainly of looking at her and admiring all the details of her beauty, both inner and outer. She had the most perfect skin in the world, luminous even though she was clearly a little tired. Her coffee-colored hair snaked all around her body, just a happenstance of how it had settled around her, and he could not help following the winding path as it traveled her breathtaking figure. It was like a spark to tinder, and the heat for her that was always only banked within him flared to new life.

"You are distracting me," she whispered, opening one eye to look at him.

"I am sorry," he said, grinning in a way that belied his apology. "I will attempt to refrain."

"You do that," she giggled, closing her eyes again.

He didn't leave, but he did try to keep from thinking in less than seemly ways. It was not an easy task. His gaze kept wandering over to her, drinking her in. He noticed she had a beauty mark on the bottom of her left foot and it made him smile. He had somehow missed that one in his methodical task of learning every inch of her body.

"Gideon!" she hissed softly.

He laughed, covering his irrepressible smile with a hand movement. Her thoughts might have been kept distant from him, but it was clear she was very aware of his. He began to contemplate having a little fun.

As he mused over the possibilities, Gideon felt an eerie change in the room. He went still, trying to name the source of the strange sensation he was feeling. It was cold, paralyzed, and bearing a level of emotion that was far too deep to belong to him.

That left Legna as the most likely source. Her eyes suddenly opened and she looked up at him, but she did not seem to focus on him. Gideon's brow furrowed as he tried to see what she was thinking, but barriers had flown up around her mind that, combined with the distancing of meditation, kept him in the dark.

"Legna?" he asked softly, crouching down to come eye to eye with her.

He became aware of the fine vibration that was humming through her. He reached to analyze her body chemistry and physiological reactions for a definition of what she was feeling.

It was fear.

Not just any fear, he realized as he reached deeper, but a solidifying terror unlike anything either of them could have conceived. Adrenaline was racing through her, causing chaos in her biorhythms to the point that Gideon hardly knew where to start to help calm her. Whatever this was, it was probably the worst thing that could happen so close to her undercover assignment.

"Legna, what is it?" He used a firmer voice, demanding an answer from her.

"Mama."

The single word completely obliterated the Ancient Demon.

Stunned, he fell back onto the floor, wiping an unsteady hand down over his shocked expression. He tried to think, but he couldn't. Now it was his fear that was rising. Gideon had no idea how she was recalling that day. He had no access to her mind the one time he needed it the most. All he could do was feel the painful wrenching of his own terrified heart as he watched her eyes grow wider and wider.

He didn't need new power and new skill levels to remember that day. It was clear as crystal for him. That day. That terrible day when Gideon had looked up from his position over Legna's mother to see the equally wide eyes of a four-year-old girl who was seeing something no child should ever see.

She was seeing her mother's mutilated body, and a male Demon who was drenched in her blood from silver hair to booted feet, clutching the dead woman to his chest as he leaned over her.

Nothing compares to the scream a babe makes in a moment like that. There was no way to explain to her that there was only so much a healer could accomplish. No way to explain how a beautiful and beloved mother could end up looking like she had looked in that instant. He had been over seven hundred years old at the time, and there was no explaining it to him either. And knowing that had been the first time the child that was Legna had ever laid eyes on him had haunted him for the next two hundred and fifty years. It was that moment alone that had kept him at a distance from her when they had actually belonged together all this time. That child was the child he had seen for so many decades every time he had looked at her. Looked at her looking at him as she was subconsciously trying to remember what it was they had decided to take away from her in order to preserve her precious mind.

Gideon turned his face to the heavens, tears of pure agony burning in his eyes as he prayed for a miracle he couldn't even begin to guess at the nature of. All he knew was that he would be destroyed the moment she stopped loving him, the moment she rightfully began to blame him for his inadequacies, for his failure to save that life, for his failure to protect her young eyes by having the forethought to seal off the room. The thought alone was enough to stop his heart from beating. He heard her begin to weep, but he could not bring himself to look at her. He felt his soul shredding, flayed away from him bit by bit, seemingly with every tear she shed. When she was suddenly on him, wrapping herself around his throat, he was pretty much expecting it. He didn't fight her. He had no right to.

It took him a long minute to realize she was hugging him, not throttling him. Numb with incomprehensible shock, he dared to allow himself enough hope to lay a hand on her back. It was at that moment he realized he had expected never to touch her again, making the contact feel like a miracle cure.

"Legna," he whispered hoarsely. "I am so sorry."

She said nothing, instead sobbing as if her heart were breaking. He let her go on, thinking to himself that she could cry until next Samhain if she wanted to and he would be the last to gainsay her. This moment was almost three centuries in coming, and she deserved to mourn.

Noah had lived not only with the weight of his mother's murder and the responsibility of raising his sister after his father's Summoning, but he had lived with the knowledge that he had made a decision for his sister that he'd never found the courage to reverse. He had always dreaded this moment, just as Gideon had.

Gideon wanted to ask her a hundred questions, but this was not about him, so he did not. He enclosed her in his embrace, soothing her as best he could with his presence and his warm touch. He brushed her hair from her damp, flushed face, gently tucking it behind her ear over and over again, a rhythmic stroking that carried with it silent words of love and understanding. Her cheek was nestled into his shoulder, her tears soaking through his shirt, her sobs held deeply in her chest so that they sounded like the painful cries of a small animal.

It was almost an hour before she spent herself completely, an occasional shudder wracking her as she drifted into an exhausted sleep. Gideon still did not move in any way. He let her rest, ignoring his own comfort completely. Nothing could make him more comfortable than the feel of her arms around him, even limp with sleep as they were.

She made a sound, jerking slightly as she woke some time later. She lifted her head, searching for his eyes. He obliged her, not even trying to hide the uncertainty within himself. She reached to touch his face, drawing her lip between her teeth as she moved her fingers over him in a strange pattern.

"You were crying," she said at last, her voice hoarse from emotion.

He instantly understood that she was not talking about the here and now, but about that tragic day so far in the past.

"Yes, love," he said simply.

"Why would you cry for my mother?"

"Because no one should have to die like that," he said. "Because for all my ability, I could do nothing for her. As I was for your brother, I had been her Siddah, and it destroyed me to think I had done so poorly by her that she had not known how to properly defend herself."

"That is not true. It is because you were Siddah to my brother that he was able to become both the man and King that he is. No one could do better than that, and I know you did just as much for Mama."

"I was older when I fostered Noah. It was different."

"Mama was a Body Demon. Female Body Demons are the least powerful of our society."

"I know. And that was why she was chosen by her murderer. He knew she had no hope of … but if I had taught her … something. Anything."

"You were the one who found her?"

"Just before you did, sweet. I thought I would turn to stone when I looked up and saw you there, looking at me as if I were something straight out of hell."

"And you and Noah had my memory altered."

"Yes."

"Why did you not tell me sooner?" she asked at last, the one question he had been truly dreading.

"I made a promise. A promise I have kept your entire lifetime, Neliss. "

"A promise to Noah."

"Yes. But you cannot blame him for that."

"No. I would not. Noah has protected me all of his life. This is no different. I would not be the soul I am if not for his choices in this. I understand now why he was so upset to find out we were Imprinted. Both he and Hannah must have suspected this would happen. You must have as well."

"Yes." He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I did not know what to hope for … that you would find out before we made love … or after. I was terrified you would feel abused in some fashion. Or worse, would turn away from me before even learning who I am."

"I see." Legna reached to push back his hair, pressing her forehead to his, putting them eye to eye and nose to nose. "I know you," she said in a whisper. ‘Just as I know myself. How could you ever be afraid that I would think you capable of such a monstrous act?"

"Because I am afraid of anything that might mean I will lose you," he confessed.

"I told you, my love, I am not going anywhere. I am here, right where I belong. My heart lives with your heart, my soul with your soul. I love you, Gideon. You have to start believing that, and believing that you deserve it."

"I will never deserve it," he said roughly. "But I will endeavor to do so for the rest of my days. I love you, Neliss, as I have never loved in the whole of my life. You are my heart, my breath, my every thought and every aspiration. You are the true source of my power, because without you I am utterly powerless."

"Love," she whispered softly, setting his heart to flight as she pressed her mouth to his tenderly. "I need to know only one thing, and then we will never need to discuss this again."

"I know," he agreed hoarsely. It took him some time before he began to tell her what she wanted to know. "He was the only Demon besides you to ever be retrieved from a Summoning pentagram. We thought we had saved him in time. By the time we realized how wrong we were, four females, including Sarah, your mother, were dead. Jacob executed him eventually, but it was a poor compensation. There was a time I thought Noah might never recover. He could not do for himself what he and your father had done for you."

"No wonder he has been almost maniacal in his protection these past months. The Summoning must have brought up so much in his mind. I think I finally understand why he could never discuss it with me. I think he was afraid that if he did it would give him away, that it would dredge up enough emotional memory to trigger what everyone had repressed within me." Legna reached up and stroked her fingers along the line of his jaw. "And then he was forced to let me go to you, knowing so much that I did not. He even tried to warn me. It makes sense now, when before it seemed so irrational. And Hannah. She knew also and was so afraid for me."

"They love you, sweet. So many of us love you. Even that acerbic little Druid you insist on being friends with." He winked, softening the remark enough to make her laugh. She reached to hug him with all of her strength, and he basked in it gratefully.

"Well, I am going to protect that little Druid because she is my friend, and she once did the same for me."

"Which definitely elevates her in my esteem," he said, kissing the top of her head through the depths of her hair. He reached up and touched the silky mass with both affection and purpose, closing his eyes and concentrating as he stroked it. Then he lifted the entire mass of it into his hand.

Legna felt a twinge of feedback along her scalp and pulled back from him to look at her hair in his hand. She gasped when she saw the black tresses, a full three feet shorter than they normally were, and the cropped coffee-colored remains fluttering down over their close bodies like dozens of feathers.

"Tell me you can fix that later," she said nervously.

"Love, I once regrew your hair from scratch after it had been burned off. I can do anything."

"Show-off," she said dryly, touching the alien locks. "How did you change the color?"

"Just a rudimentary tweak of pigmentation chemistry. Straightening it was even easier. But this is not the end of my tricks. If you are up to it, we can find a mirror so I can show you."

"I am fine. Puffy eyes aside, as long as I have you, I am fine."

"You have me," he assured her, helping her to her feet. "And as for puffy eyes, you will not have them by the time I am done."

"Remind me to stop if you catch me touching my face," Legna whispered to the Lycanthrope Queen.

"I don't blame you if you do. I never suspected Gideon was capable of such an alteration. It is remarkable."

"He said it was easy. He always says that. He explained that it was simply a matter of changing musculature structure and bone malleability. So now, I have a whole new face."

"I think choosing an Asian appearance was a brilliant touch," Siena whispered, glancing up at a woman who passed their table. "That's the second time she passed us."

"I noticed. She is feeling a little nervous, but it does not seem to be directed at us."

"Well, so long as she doesn't jump us the minute we leave the restaurant."

"No. No hostility or negative intent," Legna remarked.

"Ah, there's Anya," Siena said suddenly, reaching to wave to an exotic-looking young woman with hair that, if just a few shades lighter, would be as fiery red as Corrine's. It was wrapped into an intricate chignon, but it was clearly held in place by only a single long hairpin made of heavy silver, or what looked like silver.

Legna noted that the Queen had also bound up her hair, and by the way she repeatedly gave it a covert touch, it was clear she wasn't used to it. That was when Legna realized Lycanthropes were actually uncomfortable with their hair up. Their enemies might potentially know this, and so the Lycanthrope women had indulged in the extreme to further throw off suspicion. The sense she was feeling from them told her it was akin to a near strangulation for them. She had lived so far removed from the war, again by Noah's design, that she had not learned this interesting detail.

The Queen cast Legna a look, seemingly knowing what she was thinking, because she leaned over and enlightened her a little.

"When you see one of us change form, you will understand better. You will also understand that, when bound, our hair represents peaceful intentions."

It was an enigmatic statement, but it was enough for the moment.

The half-breed female moved directly to them, greeting them as if they were old friends, their manner warm and as boisterous as that of any girlfriends meeting for a night out.

"Anya, this is Maggie. Maggie, Anya," Siena said, using Legna's altered nickname to keep them in character.

"Hi. Ready to go?"

"Right now?"

"No time like the present," Anya said, rising to her feet right away.

Legna took a deep breath and followed the two Lycanthropes, letting their powerful confidence soothe the last of her nerves.

In less than half an hour, they were entering a dance club. They blended in perfectly with the mostly female clientele. Anya led the other two women directly to the back of the club, taking them through a door that, when closed behind them, dimmed the pulse of the music they'd left behind. She turned and gave a slight hand signal, alerting them that they were about to cross the magical ward set up to filter those who came that far. If anything was going to go wrong, it would be right then.

Siena and Anya had both passed the ward before with success. They could sense its energy and its sickly resource of evil magic, but they only knew that it was an alarm … not what the alarm was geared toward filtering out. Siena suspected males were obviously key on the list, and Legna dreaded the logic that Demons were, too. Especially with the high likelihood that Corrine was imprisoned within the magic-users' secret sanctuary.

But Legna felt Gideon's mind strongly in hers, reassuring her that he was in complete control of his protective alterations of her bio-signs. He was very close, probably just outside the club itself by then. Legna could even sense that Kane and Elijah were nearby. Her brother was the only one still out of her range.

All it would take was her faith in Gideon's power.

With deep breaths, all three women advanced. When Anya exhaled with relief at the end of the corridor, they all did.

Legna paused to listen to the voice murmuring praise and reassurance in her mind as they hurried down a flight of stairs that suddenly spat the three women out into an overlit underground chamber, apparently directly beneath the club they had first entered. Legna reached for the males lying in reserve once more, finding them all to be close. She focused, making sure she was ready to teleport them all to safety in a moment's notice. It would probably wipe her out to do so, but she no longer doubted she could do it.

Outside of the garish lighting, the room was actually warm and cozy, decorated in Persian rugs and antiquated furniture. The stone walls and floor were a reddish color, and they were the only thing that made the room seem as if it was underground. Otherwise, it was decorated with comfort and conveniences in mind, rather like an old gentlemen's club or an exclusive cigar club. Except in this instance, it was full of women, and gentlemen weren't invited.

"It almost looks like a Lycanthrope dwelling," Siena whispered. "We mostly live in caverns like this, decked out in rich appointments very nearly identical to these."

"It would not surprise me if this was exactly that," Anya remarked, her eyes clearly those of a soldier as she assessed the room, its exits, and the entire situation they were walking into. "An abandoned dwelling that was left behind as the city above us was built It is not Russian territory, but it is not unheard of."

Suddenly, a wall of putrid stench seemed to strike them all at once. It took everything in the trio's willpower not to react violently to the awful reek of the necromancers who were suddenly all around them. There were so many of them they could barely breathe. Legna turned to the Queen with wide eyes. Reports or no, they had never suspected there would be so many of them. This human cross-section of magic must have been gathering for years. Everything they were looking at, the specificity of the banners and symbolism decorating the walls of the gathering hall, as well as the numbers that gathered there, spoke of the time it must have taken to corral and woo so many of these women to the same cause. New or no, this had been quite some time in the making.

"My impressions are that the gatherings began long ago, but the organization itself has only solidified over the past few months. Apparently," Anya remarked, "they have grown considerably in strength and numbers since then."

"Apparently," Siena agreed grimly, looking around with barely masked disgust and anger. Legna reached out, settling her hand on the Queen's arm, sending out a blanket of soothing emotions and easing thoughts. She pitched her voice with low, gentle charm.

"We are here now. It will go no further than this," she reminded her.

The Queen's rage seemed to ease. Siena sighed with a guttural sound of frustration. "Women. Men I expect, but why women?"

"I guess female empowerment goes both ways, Siena, good and evil."

"Such a waste," Siena mourned.

"I know," Legna soothed.

They began to move into the thick of the crowd, fighting their revulsion at the smell. Gideon flowed through Legna's thoughts, calming her as she was overcome with the urge to bolt. The desire was all the more strong because the women on either side of her were feeling the exact same thing. It was understandable. To these human predators, they were the prey, a role they were not used to and definitely not comfortable with. The instinctive sensation was no different than what a fox thrown into a den of hunting hounds might feel. Even Gideon, strong and powerful Gideon, could not entirely hide his concern for her well-being. Had he been in her stead, he wasn't certain he would have been able to remain either. Or so he tried to tell her as he steadily calmed her fear. But she couldn't imagine her powerful and Ancient mate being afraid of anything.

Legna was aware of him notifying the other three males of the situation, and keenly felt Noah's reaction to the news. But he put his feelings aside, no doubt because he was aware she would be sensitive to them. She sent him a silent impression of gratitude that helped calm her brother.

The trio advanced, Anya introducing them to others as they entered the den. The women all talked and behaved as if they were at a high-society social—except in this society, discussions were often about the recent deaths, or "victories," over certain Nightwalkers they had encountered. Legna could not remember ever coming across such a gathering of bloodthirsty females in all of her lifetime.

It was a reflection of how the black magic permeating the room was poisoning the very souls of these women. Having learned about instinct and nature these past days, Legna understood that a huntress only hunted for what she needed, and only killed for survival and self-defense. She never sought out trouble, and she left the challenges for power to the males of the species.

These corrupted women killed in a warped view of self-defense and sought trouble with all their energy and focus. It was this unnatural, mutative behavior that made their scent so abhorrent to creatures as in tune with nature as Demons and Lycanthropes were.

It was becoming more and more unbearable as time passed, but they gritted their teeth and bore with it. The crowd was beginning to take seats in an area of chairs that had been lined up row after row. Legna warned Gideon to this, putting him on a heightened alert. It would make the gathering suspicious if they did not follow suit, so the spying trio took seats in the back row so no one was behind them, and to give themselves a small amount of relief from the stench.

They were facing a stage, one that rose in inclination the farther back it went, like a classical theater stage. It was constructed from white marble, including columns. The color bore significance. It represented their idea of good, of the female virgin who was pure and just. The psychology of it was clear.

The good guys always wore white.

So Legna was not surprised when a female trinity appeared in hooded robes of pristine white silk. Each woman took a position on the stage. There was right, left, and middle. Legna immediately recognized the traditional Triad, the one representing the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. Future, present, past, respectively. No doubt Siena, coming from a species that had a deeply rooted faith in the Goddess these figures represented, was appalled and horrified by the abomination. Legna felt it emanating from the half-breed female as well.

The middle position was the traditional position of the Mother. If Ruth was one of the leaders there, it would be as the center figure. It would suit her sense of vengeance for her betrayed daughter.

Legna tried to get impressions from the three on stage, but she dared not do so with any strength. There was no doubt in her mind that these were impressively powerful women. There was a necromancer somewhere onstage who was over twenty times more powerful than the necromancer Legna had destroyed in October. And though that one had been a relatively easy kill, it was only because they had been able to take those magic users by surprise.

But Legna was positive one of them was a Demon. They had been right about that much. And as they reached to pull back their hoods and began to speak to their audience, Legna was riveted on the central figure.

It took her a moment to realize that the Mother figure was not Ruth. Quickly she glanced to the other two positions.

It was the Maiden who was the Demon betrayer.

"Mary!" Legna hissed.

Not the mother, but the daughter herself. The mother was surely not far behind, since the fledgling Earth Demon simply did not have the power or the wisdom to plan such crafty attacks. Ruth was hiding behind the visibility of her daughter, Legna knew it as sure as she knew her power name. Mary did not have the knowledge Ruth had, no matter what she had seen all the years in her mother's house. And there had been many years. The foolish girl was still a fledgling, one who knew little more than what her mother told her. And apparently, her mother had told her enough to engender a hatred and a need for revenge that centered on Jacob.

Legna recalled that the girl had never been fostered by Siddah, her mother refusing to choose them at the infant's birth. Now she stood there as a poster child for why the Fostering was so necessary. Ruth certainly had never taught the girl anything about respect and temperament, never mind the moral limitations of a Demon's powers.

The Maiden Demon was a female Earth Demon, the most powerful element a female Demon could be born to next to the element of Fire. And to see it wasted sickened Legna. Worse, Mary had thrown her lot in with these human deviants. For all the times Noah had joked about treason, this act was the ultimate betrayal. Not even he could have come up with this concept. Not even as a joke.

Job, Mary's father, must be spinning on his pyre. Thankfully, he had not lived to see this blasphemy. The honor of Ruth's entire family would be scarred in a way from which it would not soon recover. Ruth as well as Mary would have to answer for these actions. Even if she was not taking part in this, although Legna suspected she was. Until a Demon child became an adult, its parents and Siddah were as responsible for its behavior as the fledgling itself. And no one could be more responsible for this than Ruth. She might as well have been in the Mother position after all.

The Crone was the necromancer, Legna noted, sending this intelligence to the men along with her other realizations. She was the eldest of them, but far from old and decrepit. The Mother was the leader of the weaker hunters, insignificant in the dark of night, deadly as venom in the wash of the daylight sun. This woman was physically fit and well trained, and it radiated off her. Her confidence alone was formidable.

"The Demon will be returning to his territory soon," Mary said with confidence.

The statement surprised her, and it also did not. Jacob would never return to the site of such an affront to his safety. The location had been exposed, and it was to be shed from his life as a snake sheds its skin.

This was devised information. Noah had planted it with Ruth somehow. Now the intelligence was clearly filtering down into the plan for a repeat attack on Jacob's household that was being laid before the masses. This time the enemy planned on taking a small army, and they were not going to play psychological games. They planned to take the Enforcer himself, as well as his mate and unborn.

Legna actually felt pity for them. Mary had told them nothing of what they were truly facing.

Trying to capture a being like the Enforcer was rather akin to trying to catch a porcupine barehanded. The task was not impossible, but boy would you pay for it in the ensuing struggle. To these befouled women, Jacob was just a spawn of the devil, his mate his enslaved whore, and the child she carried some sort of Antichrist. Mary only fed their prejudices, stirring them up with the fire of their own fear and hatred, and leaving the humans woefully unprepared.

Do not underestimate them, Nelissuna. They represent a formidable power. We will be hard-pressed to be rid of them all.

I know. But it is such a waste.

I agree. Mary the most tragic of all.

Ruth will answer for her part in this, Gideon.

Another waste. But Ruth is no child. She knew what she was doing. She cannot claim ignorance at her age, Neliss.

I know, she thought sadly. We can be grateful for one thing though. Mary is too young to have ever been Siddah to anyone and therefore will know no power names to give to the necromancers.

I hope you are right about that. Ruth has been Siddah to many. Mary may have heard a few things over the years. And I suspect Ruth herself is no longer above such a heinous act.

Let us pray that she has not already done so.

The three interlopers had to wait some time before the meeting broke up and they were able to rise and move toward other sections of the caverns. Legna used the cover of the milling crowd to hide her outreaching senses. The necromancers might pick up on them, but they would have a hell of a time singling her out so long as she and her companions kept moving. Still, she masked her efforts with surprising skill.

Legna could not immediately feel anything resembling Corrine's distinctive presence. She supposed Corrine's emotions were depressed by unconsciousness. That was when she felt Gideon powering through her. He was doing what she could not, where he could not do it. He sought through her for an injured presence, the blood left behind assuring him that Corrine was definitely injured. She would not have had enough time to heal naturally, so for Gideon this became a beacon for him to follow. With their powers combined, Legna drew a bead on the Druid's location. She looked at Siena, who was also alert. Legna did not know their exact nature, but the Queen clearly had perceptive abilities of her own.

The Queen whispered to Anya, who walked to the entrance of the cavern section the other two were headed into, striking a casual pose as she guarded their backs for the time they needed to locate Corrine's exact position. It took Siena's warning touch to keep Legna from beelining to her objective. Legna was no warrior or spy. The Lycanthrope knew more about such things.

Gideon was aware of his mate approaching several guards in Corrine's vicinity. He pushed any anxiety he might have felt far away from himself and concentrated on feeding her his power. He trusted Siena's prowess as a fighter as well. He had seen her practice, day after day, all of the five years he had spent at her side. She was a formidable opponent.

"I have an idea," Siena whispered, moving them back until they were flattened up against a wall just a curve away from the guards.

She reached up to loosen her hair, shaking the huge coils free, unable to suppress her sigh of relief as she did so. Legna watched with fascination as the curls moved into perfect position, springing up where they should not have been able to. It was then that she realized the changelings' hair behaved almost as if it were a living appendage. This was another thing she had not known about the Lycanthrope species.

"I know how to throw suspicion off the Demons, at least," she murmured.

The Queen then shrugged out of her shirt and stepped out of her skirt, standing nude as she handed the clothing to Legna. Then, as she continued to shake her head, the length of her golden hair crept over her skin, coating every inch of it in the soft filigree. The hair began to transform into fur as the Queen dropped to all fours.

With a final shudder, the woman turned into the wild beast. The mountain lion looked up at the female Demon staring at it with undisguised awe. But Legna quickly shook herself out of the daze when the cat crouched down and crept closer to the guards. Suddenly she sprang, loping into the distant cave quickly, releasing a scream that sent chills down Legna's spine.

Careful, love, Gideon soothed. It is an enchantment. The scream of the mountain lion has terrifying effects naturally, but she has an added power of compulsion.

Legna could believe it. She had to concentrate very hard not to give in to the fear the guards were giving in to. The women cried out and bolted from their positions. They tore past Legna as if the hounds of hell were after them. Legna resisted the urge to giggle and hurried into Siena's wake. The Queen was laughing herself as she shook out her hair one final time. Oblivious to her nudity or anything else, she led Legna into the small cave that had lain behind the guards. On a pallet of straw, chained cruelly to the wall in a way that left her suspended by her bleeding wrists, Corrine hung limply, her face buried under the curtain of her hair.

Legna hurried to encircle her with strong arms, holding her weight up as she pushed back her hair. If she was too badly injured, it would be dangerous to teleport her. She had been abused, her face covered in bruises and blood, but Legna felt Gideon assuring her quickly that she was able to be transported.

Legna motioned to the Queen to join her.

"No. I must continue this little charade. I have to exit via natural means, be it the front door or one of the hidden ones I guarantee you are located in these caves. That way, they will not suspect me as anything but the lion."

Anya hurried into the cave, breathless with her excitement.

"They're coming!"

"They'll kill you," Legna argued. "This is suicide!"

"They have to catch me first." The Queen laughed, shaking her hair until it once more spread over her.

Legna didn't waste time watching the transformation. She grabbed Anya's wrist and closed her eyes. They teleported with a hearty pop, rematerializing moments later in the alley next to the club they had entered from.

Gideon and Kane were already hurrying around the corner.

"We have to get out of here. Siena's game is dangerous."

It was clear by the flame in her mate's eyes that Gideon was not pleased with the Queen's reckless behavior. But Legna believed there was sound method to the madness. The human women would suspect Corrine had escaped while they were busy chasing a mountain lion that had inexplicably entered their caves, no doubt by one of the rear escape exits Siena had mentioned.