his head. “I’ll be waiting, Princess.” He eyed his personal guard. “Stay with her, give her anything she wants, and see her off.”
“Where are you going?” Rune asked.
“I’m going to prepare your army.” He paused. “I’ve raised them for this day. They’re not my army, Princess. The men and women of my army are out protecting this shimmer. Some of them patrol the borders, and some of them are walking these grounds to protect my people. This is your army. They will know what to do.”
And he hurried off, Matthew at his side.
She glanced around at the guard he’d left with her. “I need to feed from one of you.” She kept her voice level. “Doesn’t matter which one.”
They dropped to their knees.
“It would be an honor, Princess,” one of them said, and the others murmured assent.
The same guards who’d watched as Owen was tortured—watched as many men and women were tortured—offered up their blood and their service without hesitation.
She pointed to the one closest to her, and when he wasn’t enough, she let him stumble away, high on her bite, and beckoned to another.
When she had drunk her fill she wiped her mouth and went to stand by Owen. “Four of you will come with me. I’ll need personal guards.” She gestured toward Owen. “Not for me, but for him.”
And it wouldn’t hurt to have a ready supply of blood.
“You,” she said, her stare on a man who reminded her somehow of the twins. “What’s your name?”
“Ian,” he answered.
“I’ll take you, Ian. Choose three of your friends to join us. Say goodbye to your people and let’s get the hell out of Flesh.”
He quickly chose three guards.
“One thing,” she said, when they stood before her, armed and ready. “You’re to treat Owen Five like you would treat the most precious thing in your lives from now on. You’ll give your lives for him, if you need to. His safety will be more important to you than mine.” She glanced around at them. “If any of you don’t agree with that, step away and let someone else take your place.”
No one moved.
Her skin prickled and she shivered.
“Someone walk over your grave?” Ian asked, unsmiling.
“Yeah,” she answered. “And I think her name is Damascus.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Owen rested comfortably, despite the bumpy ride. Her blood would wear off, like the drug it was, and he would once again suffer. But right then he was comfortable.
That eased her mind a little.
She had questions for him—the most burning one concerning Elizabeth’s death—but she would ask him nothing until and unless he healed.
And from the looks of him, healing would be slow in coming. Even with her blood.
Owen Five’s entire life seemed to have been made up of pain. She wasn’t adding to that. Not on purpose.
Maybe that made her soft, or crazy, or just plain dumb.
She didn’t give a fuck.
Not one.
Who am I?
You’re Rune Alexander.
And that’s all that matters.
Only it wasn’t.
“Your army is just around the bend,” Ian said. “They stand in the holding corral and it will dissipate upon your command. The shimmer lord will have readied them for you.”
“How long have they been standing around waiting?” she asked.
He met her stare. “For a lifetime, Your Highness.”
“This is surely going to piss me off,” she muttered.
“You look like you’re used to being pissed off.” The speaker was one of the guards Ian had chosen to travel with them.
He was average height and slender, with bright black eyes and a quick smile. And obviously he was either fearless or stupid.
She was going with stupid.
“I don’t need your mouth,” she told him. “Just your blade.”
“My blade is yours. As is my mouth.”
“Knock it off,” she said, not even a little amused.
He grinned.
Perfect. Ian had chosen a clown to accompany her to Magic.
He didn’t seem intimidated by her or alarmed by the trials to come.
“My name is Jim, my lady,” he said, bowing from atop his horse. “And I am at your service.”
“Go back with the other two,” she told him. “I want you behind Owen’s wagon guarding him.”
He saluted, wheeled his horse, and rode off without another word.
She frowned at Ian. “Seriously? That’s the best you could do?”
He smiled, just a little. “He’s not the fool he pretends to be, Princess.”
“My name is Rune.”
He gave a stiff nod. “Yes, ma’am.”
She sighed and shook her head.
Honestly, anything was better than thoughts of Z in the hands of the witch.
“Why call me Princess, anyway? Why not liberator or redeemer or something that makes more sense?”