Shadow's Light by Nicola Claire

Author:Nicola Claire [Claire, Nicola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781482537277
Google: 2xGbmAEACAAJ
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2013-02-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Negotiations

The tension in the room felt like the threat of hundreds of little icicles hanging precariously over our heads. Then the threat materialised. The Queen's anger morphed into a pressure against our skin. Fine pin-pricks of freezing, frigid, sharp points hammering over every single inch of our bodies. There was no relief and we weren't alone in the experience. All but her god-like merry men felt her wrath.

Way to go Luce. How to win friends and influence people. Not a fey in that room was happy with my little show.

Michel and I both held our own, though. Neither showing pain nor fear. She was powerful and old, I could tell, but still a part of me thought she was nothing in comparison to an angry master vampire. I'd seen worse tantrums from the undead. I'd also lived through them and I knew without a doubt she didn't want us dead.

Michel, because she simply wanted him. And me, because I was of value to her.

When she realised that neither Michel nor myself would cave, she stopped abruptly. The relief from feeling no pain was almost painful in itself. The absence, a torture on its own. I just forced myself to breathe evenly, noting that Michel had stopped breathing altogether. It was unusual for him to show that kind of weakness, but he was still not at full strength. I decided to distract her before she noticed he was fighting to stay upright.

“Your Majesty, I believe we can be of assistance to you. There is much we need to discuss.”

She glared at me from her higher vantage point. Why is it that powerful people think being higher up gives them an advantage, some sort of psychological boost over the weaker? I've been short all my life. I rarely face off against a vampire shorter than me. They all tower. I gave up being impressed by that vantage point years ago. Her supposed superior positioning had little effect on me.

“What would make you think you have something to offer, human?”

“Well, for starters, I am not human,” I answered, casually.

Sofiq scoffed. “You are half human. Your Nosferatin blood is of no use to me.”

“Then you have missed an opportunity.” I shrugged casually in reply.

She paused, licked her lips and tapped her finger absently on the arm of her throne. “Explain,” she demanded.

Well, at least I had her looking at me and not at Michel. He had only just started breathing again.

“You are at war with the Ljósálfar. I would think the Ljósálfar Prince as a prisoner would be a valuable bargaining chip in your endeavours, would it not?”

She shifted forward on her seat and sneered. “I have a Ljósálfar Princess, I do not need the Prince.”

It was my turn to scoff. “I'm no princess and you know it. I'd sooner cut off his balls and feed them back to him in little pieces, than have anything to do with that creep.”

A few tittering chimes rang out around the room in response to my rather grotesque statement.

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