Page 71 of Slayer Mom
Brika ledme into the throne room where Hazen was holding court. It was exactly what you’d imagine if you said, ‘throne room from one of those fantasy novels’ with pillars and cavernous ceilings, and massive fireplaces, and my husband at the far end on a massive chair with a back that rose above his head like clawed hands.
I was wearing a robe. It was beige silk, and had fancy sleeves, and a long skirt that swished when I walked. The slippers were black and satin, but still, I was dressed for post tub lounging, not looking impressive to all the monsters that lined the long hall up to him.
They watched me with a level of calculating intensity that made me wish I’d put on a bra, but I didn’t have a bra in Hazen’s castle. I didn’t have anything other than armor and these silk velvet dress robe things in the armoire near the huge bed. I’d stared at the bed for a long time before Brika came to lead me to the master.
Lock and Wat were supposed to still be resting. That’s where I should be. I should have climbed into that enormous bed and slept for a week, but theGrand Master wanted me to attend him in the throne room.
“You summoned me?” I said once I was five feet away from him. I avoided looking directly at him, because I didn’t need to be rendered speechless by his beauty in front of all his monsters. Joe the werewolf was probably in there somewhere.
“Did you find the bath to your liking?”
“It was a very good bath with excellent salts.”
“You aren’t looking at me.”
“Nope. You’re too stunningly beautiful. I’d rather keep my brain for the moment.”
He laughed, a low rumbling sound that went through me with the force of a tsunami. “The Queen quit too easily. We’re on guard against her next surprise attack. I would prefer to keep you by my side until her last assassin is found and put in the torture wing.”
I looked up at that. A torture wing? Why would anyone want… How was he even more beautiful now than he’d been yesterday? His eyes were luminous, full of a thousand emotions and desires that made my heart pound and my skin ache. That was just his eyes. The curve of his lips did an entirely different thing to me, starting with my own mouth, matching his smile and wanting that smile to widen as I buried my teeth in the smooth skin of his throat.
I blinked and looked down. That fantasy had gotten weird fast. “Is there a chair for me or would you like me to stand? I’m still only a weak human, so I might collapse in an undignified heap.”
“I would catch you, but you may sit, if you would like. You could sit with me. The throne is very large and comfortable. It was made for two-person lounging.”
I frowned at his boots. They were unscuffed, fresh leather that laced up his calves, snug enough to seethe delineation of his perfect smooth muscles. “That isn’t trying, it’s denial. We can go out together for dinner and a movie some time, maybe go ice skating, and then therapy. I’m not interested in becoming a sex addict to your immense monster magnetism.”
“Wow. My immense monster magnetism, is that like animal magnetism, only monster? How difficult your position, faced with such irresistible sex appeal, when you are determined to maintain your disgust and disdain.”
I looked up at him again. “You lied to me for fifteen years. Should I find that charming? I don’t, however beautiful you are. I’ve never been motivated by a pretty face.”
He held my glare with his own enigmatic expression. Did I mention gorgeous Mona Lisa-like smile? No? Good. He finally gestured to his right where someone had brought a very comfortable looking overstuffed chair with a stool while I was busy not being impressed by how gorgeous he was.
“Please, sit.”
I did. It took me ten minutes to fall asleep, and when I woke up, I had a deliciously warm and fluffy blanket tucked around me, but I was still there, in that grand hall next to the Grand Master and surrounded by his monsters. It was actually a pretty pleasant place to sit, particularly when Brika brought me potstickers and dipping sauce with fried rice. That was my favorite sick day food, as Hazen knew. He was talking in a foreign language to some guy who looked like his head had been sculpted out of granite.
The assassination attempt happened so suddenly, there was only a slight distortion in the air and then a blade made out of rainbows and diamonds, barely visible at all, went into the chair where Hazen’s heart had been.
He stood in front of me, hand outstretchedtowards the faintly outlined white rabbit, his long ears twitching as Hazen wrapped death and destruction around him and dragged him into a full corporeal state.
“Take him to the torture wing,” Hazen said to the four vampires who had already snapped thin leashes on all his limbs, and his neck.
The white rabbit sniffed and allowed them to lead him away, but my left arm twinged. I pushed up my sleeve and stared at the spiderweb of pale green and pink that crawled beneath my skin.
I opened my mouth to call Hazen, but instead, my left hand pushed my right away and shook down the sleeve, covering up the Queen’s infection. My left arm wasn’t in my control. My right arm didn’t respond when I tried to push the sleeve back up.
Hazen took the weapon out of the chair and sat back down, laughing as he tossed the sparkling blade in his dexterous fingers. “The Zombie Queen is never satisfied with a straightforward defeat.”
“But to sacrifice her white rabbit?” Joe looked concerned, stroking his beard while his arms bunched and flexed. I’d missed him earlier. I tried to call to him, but I only smiled and stood up. What was I doing? I couldn’t speak, couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything but walk over to Hazen and stare at his gloriously divine face and soak up his beauty.
I was going to kill him. I was the Zombie Queen’s assassin. I took the knife out of his hand with my left hand and smiled at him. “I hated that tap-dancing rabbit, but do you really have to torture him?”
His brow rose. “I don’t have to do anything, but he did come here to my hall with my bride beside me. I will not allow that.” His lips became hard, like his eyes, so hard and furious, I couldn’t breathe through so much will and rage. It wasn’t the assassination attempt on his life, but the nearness of me to danger. Hewould never hurt me, would always protect me, with his own life if necessary. And I was going to kill him.
I flipped the knife and stabbed towards his heart faster than thought, slicing through his skin and pricking the tip of his heart when the pressure of the dagger eased as my hand disconnected from my arm, my trusty slayer blade gleaming with my own blood that gushed from my stumped arm that I’d chopped off with the last base instinct I’d managed to keep. I’d chopped off my own hand to save him.
Hazen didn’t move. He was paralyzed by the blade, and I still wanted to kill him, would press the knife into his heart with my teeth unless I chopped off my head.
