Page 68 of Midnight Queen

I’d wanted to take her myself, but there was an issue with a distributor that I had been putting off for days now. It was when I left that meeting that I got the message from Lor.

I can’t think of one plausible reason he would be texting me to meet him at the church. The calls and messages I’ve left him in return have gone ignored, which both angers me and concerns me. If he’s with Quincey, he knows he needs to be in constant contact with me.

It was my worry that ultimately convinced me to follow his instructions and meet him there.

My confusion only grows when I spot a familiar car parked down the street under a tree. Bria shouldn’t be here tonight, and yet, there her car sits.No onebut the guards should be here tonight.

Leaving the car and my driver behind, I march to the front door, weaving through the large shrubbery that surrounds the property. The lack of streetlights and the overgrown landscaping helps to keep our movement in and out of the building concealed from the nosy humans. Though most of the time, we’re moving faster than a human eye can track.

The multitude of voices coming from the other side of the door has my hand pausing just as it’s about to wrap around the brass handle. They all sound raised and unhappy, like they’re in the middle of a heated argument.

What the fuck is going on here?

No one calls a meeting here butme, and even then, the meetings are few and far between. I’m rarely, if ever, in the mood to entertain their grievances.

An angry storm begins to form in my cavernous chest. It sweeps through my veins like a windstorm and lightning all but shoots from my fingertips when my palms slam against the double doors.

They fly open, crashing against the walls that sit behind them. The bang causes the room to fall silent and as I step into the building, two dozen pairs of eyes lock on me. Most are full of irritation and confusion, but some look as angry as I feel.

But the powder-blue ones that lock with mine from the front of the room look completely unbothered. If I didn’t know better—and Idoknow better—I would say there’s a hint of excitement in them as well.

The sound of my shoes clicking against the tile fills the eerily quiet space as I stalk down the aisle toward her.

Pale pink lips pull into a smirk and her bare legs gracefully cross. The white dress that looks like it’s nothing more than a buttoned white blazer hikes up another inch on her thigh.

Her fingers tap on the metal arm of the chair she sits in, in a slow, steady beat.

Until this very moment, I’ve never viewed it as anything but a chair but it appears every bit the throne Quincey described it as.Especially with her in it.

Quincey Page entered my bloody kingdom as a prisoner, and now she sits upon my throne like the queen she is.

“Silas,” a shrill voice comes from the pews. “What is the meaning of this? I don’t appreciate being summoned here by ahuman.” Rowena’s elfin face is pinched in fury and her dark red lips are pulled in a sneer.

“Honestly, Rowena, take it down an octave, will you?” Quincey winces, her hand holding her ear. “You’re making dogs bark two blocks away.”

Ignoring the redheaded vampire, I move closer to where Quincey is. “Mon Soleil,” I grit out once I stand below her. “What are you doing?”

Her lips curl into a grin. “I thought I would formally introduce myself to everyone here,” she answers, her voice is calm and collected. Slowly, she stands from the metal chair, her eyes scanning each of the faces in the crowd. “I know for a fact that everyone in this room saw the video, but I thought it was important that they all get to know me when I’m not chained to a table.”

Her face remains unmoved, that coy smirk fixed in place, but it’s her eyes that send a clear message.

Trust me.

It’s not in my nature to sit back and watch as things play out. And it’s not in my nature to be in the dark. Information is a large way in which I maintain control, and right now, I know nothing. I’m not sure how Quincey was able to organize this without me as much as catching a hint of it, but despite all that, I do trust her.

It’s the vampires sitting in the church pews that I don’t trust. Since my arrival, their hateful looks have wisely started to wane. There are a few guests that haven’t bothered to hide their contempt, but Quincey looks completely unbothered.

She looks like she’s in her element.

“I know you’re all confused about what I’m doing here. I know you’re all wondering what the hell Silas is thinking. As Rowena so kindly pointed out, I’m just a human.” Quincey effortlessly holds everyone’s attention as she speaks—each of them waiting for a clear explanation as to what they’re doing here. “In your eyes, I’m weak and below you. You’re probably thinking of ways to eliminate me as we speak.” A wicked grin I’m very familiar with forms on her lips. “This is my warning not to as it will end very badly for you.”

The vampires look among themselves, not looking as if they believe her.

“What could you possibly do to us?” one of the men yells out.

A warning snarl builds in my throat, and I take a step toward him, but Quincey’s hand landing on my shoulder stops me. Her fingers squeeze once before letting me go.

“I’msoglad you asked,” Quincey chirps. “I’ve been dying to show you all for days.”

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