sent to me. I can’t track it. Not yet.” There was a lot of wood and stone and the vision of a trickle of water falling softly, like an ornamental fountain in the corner of the screen.
Center screen, the Flayer of Mithrans was killing his interpreter. There was no sound. Only the awful footage. The female vampire was clothed only in blood. There was no flesh left on her arms, hands, calves, feet, neck, or face. She was a limp and empty vision of dripping crimson, held upright, clasped close to the chest of Shimon Bar-Judas, one arm around her waist. Her eyes were open, staring, blank, human, human as she likely hadn’t been in . . . decades? Centuries? I had no idea of her hair color. Her head was scalped. She was a broken, skinned doll. And the Flayer was facing her at the camera, chatting to it through her mouth as if there was volume.
“What’s he saying?” I managed, sounding calmish.
Alex’s fingers flew over his keyboards. “I’m sending the feed to a deaf chick I know for a lipreading interpretation, but with the fangs I doubt she can tell me anything. I’m trying to find a cell I can hack—Hang on. Got something.”
I studied the face of Shimon. He was vamped out and so was his mouthpiece. She had upper and lower fangs, top and bottom. I had no idea what she might be saying until the audio suddenly came through Alex’s speakers.
Then the woman’s voice came over the sound system. “—kill every human for ten miles. Claim every Naturaleza and every Mithran for twenty miles. Tribal woman and her pitiful followers, you will be mine or you will be true-dead. I am king. I am the god of the blood-drinkers. I am all there is for life and death and for any future that defeats the dragons. You will kneel to me. I will drink your blood and eat your flesh. Your witches will enter my circle and give me time. All time. I will rule from the beginning to the end, the alpha and the omega . . .”
I made a slashing motion to Alex and he cut the volume. “He knew we would find him and hear this.”
“He spent a lot of time in Ed’s head,” Alex said. “He may know us better than we want him to.”
“Oh goody.” I sighed. “I get the megalomania,” I said. “I get the belief that, because he’s lived so long, he thinks he deserves something. Even worship. But something feels off.” I walked closer to the screen with the fanghead and the bleeding woman. Her fingers were working, twisting and bending and—“Alex. Get your deaf friend to read the fingers. She’s using the . . . whatchu call it . . . the deaf alphabet.”
Alex cursed under his breath. “American Sign Language hand alphabet. Yeah. Got it. I have a feeling that whatever she’s signing, it isn’t what the fanghead wants her to say.”
We fell silent. In the background I heard Angie and EJ screaming in laughter. I also heard Big Evan’s woodwind pipes and felt distant magic glance across my skin. Cia and Liz were at work in the parking lot. Something about their magic felt odd, felt shadowy and smoky, as if the world had burned from within their workings. It was a trace of dark magic or demon taint, and either one terrified me, but there was nothing I could do about that. Not now.
“Humans in danger,” Alex said. “Cantrell, my deaf friend, says the bloody woman is saying that over and over. ‘Humans in danger. Send DQ. Help.’”
DQ. Dark Queen. Asking me for help. An act of compassion or a trap?
“I don’t believe that one of the Flayer’s vamps would care about humans,” Alex said, echoing my thoughts.
I said nothing, but my entire body tightened. Silently I walked away, up the stairs, and changed into my half-form shape. Lying on the floor, panting, in pain, I thought about the message. It was probably a trap. Fangheads were good ambush hunters. But . . . I was the Dark Queen. This was my job, or would be once I figured out where my enemy was. I weaponed up. Thinking about my clan, my people who would be on the firing line with me and in danger if I failed. I hadn’t heard back from Soul about help. Ayatas was useless. Rick LaFleur was not answering. The LEOs were trapped in an avalanche.