Queen of Swords (10 page)

Chapter Eleven

The days passed slowly. Boone was always off running errands or talking to people on his wrist unit—with the screen blacked out. Sometimes Ophelia would catch the sound of a feminine voice, but he always cut off the call when he saw her watching.

Basically, she was dying of boredom.

Even though she dreaded the outcome, she shuffled her cards. The peace she normally felt continued to elude her, but there was no help for it. If she didn’t do something soon, she’d lose her damn mind.

Praying, even though she knew better, Ophelia flipped over a single card. She blinked, sure she was reading it wrong. But no matter how much she stared at it, the picture of the woman wielding a wand didn’t change. “What in the seven hells am I supposed to do with a Queen of Wands?” If it was supposed to be the albino, she was going to just kill the bitch and get this over with.

But that felt wrong. This particular queen generally represented someone passionate and warm and in love with life. Somehow Ophelia just couldn’t wrap her mind around Sadie being passionate about anything.

As if on cue, the door flew open, and several bags were tossed inside. A brunette woman waltzed into the room like she owned the place, her gray eyes taking in everything before they landed on Ophelia. “You.”

Ophelia got slowly to her feet, wondering if she were going to have to fight this chick who may or may not be the person her reading represented. She wasn’t sure she’d win. The brunette had a good six centimeters on her and had the lean look of a lifelong scrapper. “Me.”

The woman slammed the door and crossed the room in three strides of those kilometer-long legs. She circled Ophelia, looking more curious than aggressive. “You’re awful skinny. Pretty eyes, though.”

Ophelia gritted her teeth. “Who the hells are you?” Another one of Boone’s apparently bottomless supply of women?

“Oh, I’m Jenny.” The brunette waved as if swatting away an annoying insect. She propped her hands on her hips. “So you screwed my brother?”

“You’re— Wait, what?” Her mind spun in circles while she tried to reconcile the idea of Boone’s sister asking her such a forward question.

Jenny flipped her hair over her shoulder in a movement she must have practiced. No one moved like that naturally. They just didn’t. “You’re not one of those prudes, are you? Because I’ve been told I’m quite shocking.”

“Shocking doesn’t begin to cover it,” Ophelia said faintly.

“No, it really doesn’t, does it.” Jenny grinned. “You any good with a knife?”

There was no keeping up with this woman. How she got from sleeping with Boone to using a knife was anyone’s guess. Although sometimes Ophelia wouldn’t mind using a knife on Boone. But she had a feeling Jenny wasn’t talking about that. “Passably.”

“Right. As if my brother would be taken down by someone passably good at anything.” Jenny snorted. “Come on, I haven’t practiced outside of holovids in ages.”

Ophelia found herself being dragged out of the room and down the stairs to a gym in the hotel’s basement. Jenny went to a data pad near the door and, a few seconds later, the wall rolled back to reveal a vast selection of knives.

“What kind of hotel is this?” Ophelia stood next to her and examined the blades. They were all high quality, varying only in length and shape.

“Ours.”

“Yours?”

“What are you, on repeat? That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Jenny grabbed a wickedly curved dagger. “Pick your poison.”

The mention of poison had Ophelia’s stomach, still not feeling quite up to par, twisting nervously. “Let me get this straight—this hotel is yours.” Boone hadn’t said a damn thing about owning this hotel, but why would he? It wasn’t like he confided anything to her. Which shouldn’t have pissed her off. It really shouldn’t have.

“Well, mine and Boone’s.” Jenny smiled when Ophelia picked up an S-blade. “Nice.”

“I need to stretch first. I haven’t practiced in a few weeks.”

Jenny shrugged. “Yeah, me too.”

It felt odd to do the stretches next to someone. Ophelia mostly relied on holovids to keep up in her training. Papa had taught her everything he knew, but Sanctify members weren’t known for their skills with blades. They liked lasers and words, using both to rile people up until the riots began. Ophelia was far better at hand-to-hand combat and knife fighting than she was at shooting, much to her father’s disappointment.

When they had both worked up a light sweat, they turned to face each other. “Shall we make this interesting?” Jenny’s grin didn’t do anything to calm Ophelia’s stomach.

“How?” She was starting to suspect Jenny was absolutely insane, which kind of made things interesting all on their own, and not in a good way.

Jenny flipped her knife, catching it easily by the hilt. “First blood?”

She shrugged, the first surge of adrenaline making her head spin. It would be good to fight, to let some of the annoyance and frustration of the last week out. “I can do that.”

“And if I win, you give me one of those upgraded lasers Gee lifted off you.”

She could have just taken it. Ophelia found herself grinning. “And if I win, you get me the hells out of that room for a night.”

“Sure. Ready?”

Ophelia nodded and then had to backpedal madly to stay out of her reach. Jenny came at her like a whirlwind, knife seeming to be everywhere at once. Within thirty seconds, she knew Jenny was better, but Ophelia would be damned before she went down without a fight. She ducked and dodged, managing to stay a half step ahead of the other woman, but not enough to launch an attack of her own. Sweat covered both their bodies, but neither slowed as they danced around the open space.

“What in the seven hells are you doing?” Boone roared.

Jenny froze for only half a second, but it was long enough for Ophelia to lunge, slicing through her shirt and cutting her shoulder. “I win,” she murmured. Then she dropped to the ground and rolled onto her back, staring at the off-white ceiling while she tried to regain her breath. What a glorious workout.

Footsteps pounded through the sudden silence of the gym and then Boone was crouching over her, taking up too much space. “Ophelia.” He grabbed her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

She groaned and swatted at his hands. “Get off me.”

“Boo-oo-ne.” Jenny’s whine managed to triple the number of syllables in his name. “Why aren’t you worried about me? She
cut
me.”

He didn’t even bother to look at his sister. “You started it.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I know
you
. That’s enough.”

“That’s not fair. We were just sparring.”

Now he did look up. “Sparring with blades, Jenny. That’s bullshit and you know it. One of you could have been killed.”

“You’re such a drama queen.” Jenny’s voice dropped several octaves until she sounded eerily similar to her brother. “Don’t climb that tree—you could fall and break your leg. Don’t drink so much—you never know what you might do. Blah, blah, blah. You’re no fun, Boone.”

“Jenny,” he growled.

Ophelia laughed. She couldn’t help it. “She’s right. You’re no fun.”

He let go of her shoulders, and she tried to pretend she couldn’t still feel each of his fingers burning against her skin. “Fine. Be stupid and get yourselves killed. I don’t fucking care.”

It shouldn’t have been such a big deal. People sparred with open blades all the time, and Jenny was obviously an expert. Sure, there was an element of danger, but not enough to cause a reaction like this. She propped herself up on her elbows so she could watch him walk toward the door. “What’s going on?”

Boone stopped, but he didn’t turn around. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Then he was gone, disappearing through the open door. It was starting to be a nasty habit of his.

Ophelia sighed and lay back down, stretching her arms over her head. She glanced up to find Jenny staring at the door with a thoughtful expression on her face. With a laugh, she looked down at Ophelia and grinned. “So, where do you want to go?”

…

There were no words to describe his terror at seeing Jenny chase Ophelia around the gym. If he’d stopped to think about it, he would have known both women could handle themselves—Ophelia obviously had training and the old man saw to it that all of his children were deadly in any number of methods—but reason took a vacation when he saw the Diviner fall to the ground.

And they laughed at him.

Combined with the Kristian fiasco and everything else going on, it was too much. He had to leave before he said something they’d all regret. Which was how he ended up back on the
Psyche
, elbow deep in the engine next to Gee. “What did you say?”

“Gods, man, where is your head at? You’re about to lose a finger or four.”

Boone jerked his hand back. “I guess I’m distracted.” By a pair of damned violet eyes.

“You haven’t been dipping with our little Diviner again, have you?”

“No. And she’s not our anything.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Gee snorted and wiped his hands on his coveralls. “And why the hells haven’t you closed with her?”

Boone groaned. “I don’t need this from you too. Jenny’s been on my case ever since she found out about the first night we were together.”

“Our Jenny’s a smart one. Just like my Marcy. And my Marcy would say you’re acting like you’re too stupid to live.”

Boone’s temper, already stretched too thin, snapped. “Why, because I haven’t dipped with some godsdamned Diviner?”

“Because she’s been practically begging you to tap her for days.
Days
.” Gee reached up and poked Boone’s chest. “What’s stopping you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. How about because I’m the only thing standing between my psychotic half brother and the people under my protection? Maybe I have more on my mind than some crazy Diviner who doesn’t know what’s good for her?” Boone tried to calm down but, once the words started, they weren’t about to stop. “Even if I did have the time and patience to seduce her, it would only put her in danger. And she doesn’t trust me.”

Gee raised a single eyebrow. “You done?”

Boone’s anger deflated and he sighed, suddenly exhausted. “Yeah. I’m done.” It was a hopeless situation with no end in sight. Kristian wouldn’t stop being a danger until he was dead, and Boone couldn’t get close enough to kill him. But the longer he waited, the worse the situation would get on Hansarda, Kristian weeding out anyone not fully in support of him. If Boone didn’t act soon, there would be no one there who wanted to be saved.

“Boone.”

Damn it. He spun around as Jenny strolled into the room. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking our little Diviner out tonight.” She patted his cheek. “And if you wanted her, you should have said something. I’ll take care of it.”

“Jenny. Don’t.”

She turned to Gee, effectively dismissing Boone. “Hey there, handsome. It’s been too long.”

He hugged her around the bottom of her hips, lifting her off her feet and spinning around. “My Marcy has threatened to hunt you down if you don’t stop by to visit more often.”

“Can’t have that, now can we?” She grinned. “Is my big brother driving you nutty yet?”

“You have no idea. Wouldn’t know a good idea if it hit him over the head.”

Jenny smacked the Evarven’s shoulder. “That’s why he has us, Gee. That’s why he has us.”

Boone resisted the urge to slam his head into the wall, but only barely. “No, Jenny. Whatever you’re planning, just stop now.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. Would I disobey my too-smart-for-his-own-good brother, Gee?”

Gee laughed, his eyes lighting up like the glowing bogs on Nitriph. “Certainly not, Miss Jenny.”

Boone spoke through clenched teeth. “You cannot take her out.” As if Ophelia didn’t get into enough trouble on her own; throwing Jenny into the mix would be like adding accelerant to witchfire.

“Guess what?” Jenny lowered her voice, but that damn grin never left her face. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

His life would have been so much simpler if he were an only child. “Maybe I can’t tell you what to do, but I can—and will—lock you in one of our secure rooms until it’s time to leave.”

“That’s not fair.” Her lower lip stuck out.

“Pouting was cute when you were three. Now it’s just annoying.”

The lip went out even farther. “Fine, Boone. Be a buzzkill. I won’t stage a jailbreak. Come on, Gee, I stole some of the good stuff last time I was on Valneci.”

Boone watched them walk out of the room, so frustrated he wanted to destroy something. His sister was far more dangerous when she was acting innocent than when she was out-and-out disobeying him. The only thing he had to figure out was if it was about Ophelia or if there was something else going on.

Chapter Twelve

The door slammed open in what Ophelia was beginning to think was Jenny’s customary entrance. She danced in, her hair twisted into countless braids, each ending with a black bead, her arms laden with bags. “Sit.”

Ophelia glanced behind her, as if a dog could have shown up in the last five seconds. “Excuse me?”

“Jeez, don’t you speak Common?” Jenny rolled her eyes. “I said sit. There.” She pointed a newly painted—with a rainbow, no less—finger at the coffee table. “It’d be better if we had a nice, normal chair, but apparently our hotel doesn’t believe in them. Something I’ll have to rectify as soon as possible. What are you waiting for? Sit.”

Wondering what she’d gotten herself into, Ophelia let Jenny tow her to the low table and push her onto it. “Why do we need a nice, normal chair?” Even as she asked, she thought she knew. Those bags weren’t full of lasers and knives—they were full of beauty products and clothes.

“A makeover, of course.” Jenny started digging through the bags, setting row after row of cosmetics in neat little lines next to Ophelia.

“Of course.” She reached for a brilliant lime green packet, but Jenny smacked her hand. “Don’t I get a say in any of this? I did win, after all.”

“The bet was that you got out of the hotel for a night.” Jenny grinned in a way Ophelia was coming to dread and anticipate at the same time. This woman was nothing if not interesting. “The rest is my prerogative.”

“People don’t tell you no often, do they?”

“Never heard of it.” Jenny started laying hangers of bright outfits over the back of the couch.

“I don’t know about this.” It was only a token protest. Ophelia didn’t mind makeovers, and she had a feeling a night out with Jenny would be mind-blowing. She could use a little mind-blowing right now to distract her—especially from a pair of icy gray eyes much too similar to the ones staring at her right now. “What?

“Stop thinking so much. It’s bad for you.”

A laugh slipped out. “Is that so?”

“Of course. It’s a proven medical fact.” Jenny straightened and propped her hands on her hips. “Now, those eyes are fascinating. We can work with them.” She leaned back over the table, pulling out a few packets seemingly at random. “Ooh. I know the perfect thing.”

The next hour was a whirl of cosmetics and clothes and gold dust. Ophelia ended up covered in the stuff, her pale skin shimmering as if she’d just crawled from one of Bolk’s gold mines. Her hair was pulled back into a spiky updo that accentuated her bone structure, playing up her eyes. The dress was gorgeous, made in a blue-violet fabric that glimmered ever so slightly as she picked it up and held it against the front of her body. It was softer than it looked, and fit like a glove, clinging to her chest, stomach, and hips before ending a mere inch below her butt. The kind of dress that would give her father a heart attack.

Ophelia loved it.

The shoes, though, were really impressive. After promising her firstborn child if she used them to attack anyone, Jenny gave Ophelia a pair of purple stilettos whose heels concealed stilettos of the knife variety.

She made a mental note to get Mac to make her a few pairs as soon as possible.

Jenny’s black dress ended a few inches above her knees, but when she spun it flared out to reveal hot-shorts the same sapphire as her shoes. The top of the dress was little more than two straps that covered barely enough flesh to pass in public. She had a silver bracelet on each wrist that glinted when she moved.

“Pretty.” Ophelia motioned to the bracelets.

“You know, they say pretty is only skin-deep.” Jenny grinned. “These are so much more.” She moved her right hand over the opposite bracelet and it shimmered, expanding in a move that defied Ophelia’s ability to follow, covering Jenny’s hand in gleaming silver armor all the way up to her forearm.

“That—those—”

“Wicked, right?” Jenny flexed her hand. “Daddy doesn’t like to think I could be disarmed at any time.” A shadow passed behind her eyes. “Or he didn’t. He’s gone now.”

“I’m sorry.” They were such inadequate words, but she couldn’t just say nothing.

There was that grin again, chasing away the shadows. If her eyes were shining with unshed tears…well, Ophelia would never call her on it. “He was kind of a psychopathic ass, but family is family.”

“I know what you mean.” That about summed up Papa nicely. But that wasn’t fair. He loved her. Sure, he was over-the-top protective, but she never doubted he cared.

“Besides, you think I have somewhere to hide a weapon here?” Jenny spun again.

“No, I suppose not.” Ophelia laughed, the sober mood broken.

A knock sounded on the door and Jenny froze, a look of panic flashing across her face. It was gone almost as soon as it appeared. If Ophelia hadn’t been watching her, she wouldn’t have seen it at all. “A minute.”

Jenny danced to the door. “Oh, thank the gods. I thought it was
him
.”

Gee poked his head past her hip and eyed Ophelia. “Damn, woman, but you look good enough to eat.”

“Hey.” Jenny pushed him back into the hall. “What about me?”

“Stow your ego, Miss Jenny. You look beautiful and you know it. Stop fishing for a compliment.” The Evarven cleared his throat. “There seems to be an issue with
Boreas
and the Cap’n is off looking into it.”

If Ophelia didn’t suspect something before, she did when Jenny jumped and clapped her hands. “Perfect. Come on, Diviner. They just opened up a new club I’ve been dying to try. They have a password and everything. Very legit.”

“Now Miss Jenny, you said you’d be going to Louie’s. That was the deal.” Gee actually looked a bit nervous, sending warning bells pealing through Ophelia. “They know you there, will watch your back and keep you out of trouble.”

“Stop worrying, Gee. You’ll give yourself wrinkles.” Jenny looped her arm through Ophelia’s and towed her past the stuttering Evarven. “See you on the flip side.”

Ophelia caught one last look at Gee as they rounded the corner. He stood next to the still-open door and seemed to be arguing with himself.
Before she could ask Jenny what was going on, they went through a door and outside. Immediately, the wind whipped through her dress and tossed snow in her face.

“Godsdamnit.” Jenny picked up her pace, dragging Ophelia behind her. “We have to get out of this shit before it smears the glitter.”

Ophelia was more worried about losing her nether bits to frostbite. “Why don’t we just go back for coats?” The gale tore her words away as soon as they passed her lips, whisking them out of hearing range.

They got two blocks before Jenny ducked into an alley. The wind cut off immediately, although the snow didn’t diminish, still drifting from the sky in lazy, swirling patterns. Ophelia started to wrap her arms around herself but the look on Jenny’s face stopped her. “Don’t even think about it. You’ll smear. Give me five minutes.”

Jenny led the way to a tiny metal door tucked into the shadows of the dead-end. Ophelia looked behind them, not liking how far they were from the street, how easy it would be for someone to attack. All she’d wanted was a night to forget her problems, but it seemed as if Jenny would only get her into worse.

The door opened with a squeal, and a scrawny man stuck his head out. “Whadya want?”

“Phoenix.”

Ophelia blinked. That was an odd response, but then she remembered Jenny had said something about a password. The man nodded and opened the door wider, stepping out of their way. Jenny motioned Ophelia to precede her inside and then they were in the small room. The man shut the door, locked it, and then moved to open the one in front of them. He paused with his hand over the palm lock. “You know the rules?”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “Yeah, cause they’d give me the password if I didn’t.”

He shrugged and opened the door. “Whatever.”

Sound blasted through Ophelia, making her heart stutter and her breath stall in her lungs. It was loud, the booming bass knocking her brain around in her skull. But then the rest of it hit her, the melody tempting her body into movement. She swayed through the door, taking in the scattering of tables—most of them full—around a packed dance floor. Blue smoke, alcohol, and the potent mix of multiple perfumes assaulted her nose. Tilting her head back, Ophelia inhaled deeply—this place smelled like home.

Jenny grabbed her hips and hauled her back. “Not yet, tiger. You have to dry off.”

She didn’t want to dry off. She wanted to be in the middle of the writhing crowd of bodies. Ophelia didn’t even want a drink. She just wanted to dance.

Twenty minutes and one drink later Jenny finally let her go, following her onto the dance floor. They found a pocket of empty space and started moving. It was perfect, exactly what Ophelia needed.

She was so busy giving herself over to the music that Ophelia didn’t notice the albino until the bitch punched her in the face.