That had to count in Rania’s favor.
She turned in place, surveying the crowd and probably choosing her words. Conversation ceased gradually as she just stood there, an icy beauty with cool eyes.
When they were silent, she spoke.
“I’m Rania Hingston, the swan-maiden assassin cursed by the Dark Queen to do her will. I’ve come to suggest an alliance and to ask for some help.”
Murray pointed to the red cord on her wrist. “You’re still in her power. I don’t like you being here at all.”
Rania gestured to Mel. “She has a red cord, too.”
“Let her talk,” Mel said and Murray nodded with obvious reluctance.
Rania took a deep breath. “I have served the Dark Queen for over a thousand years. I was her assassin, but not by my own choice. I was my mother’s thirteenth child, although I was orphaned as an infant. My twelve older brothers were turned into swans against their will and flew away once our parents were dead. I knew nothing of this until I had grown up in Fae, reliant upon the Dark Queen herself. She might have been my mother. She acted as if she was. She offered me a wager one day: that if I assassinated thirteen victims for her, she would free my brothers from their curse and release me from her service. I didn’t know that she’d already turned my heart to ice, so I was unable to feel empathy or compassion. Still, my first attempted kill went badly and I nearly died myself. As a result, she gave me the ability to grant the kiss of death thirteen times and the ability to spontaneously manifest elsewhere. She made me a stealthy killer because that suited her purposes.”
There was a whisper in the ranks of the Others, and Hadrian knew they were aware of that weapon.
Rania continued. “I used twelve of those kisses, as many of you know, but the thirteenth didn’t proceed as planned. The Dark Queen demanded one of the Pyr, and I chose Hadrian, only to have a firestorm spark between us. That firestorm thawed the ice that had encased my heart, but it didn’t matter: I’d already given him that final kiss.”
“He’s not dead,” Caleb noted when Rania paused.
“Not nearly,” Hadrian said, standing up. That caused a number of agitated whispers.
“That was where the plan went wrong. Hadrian fought off the kiss of death, which meant I had to attack him instead. He’s not very easy to kill.” There was a reluctant chuckle at that. She turned to look at him, her eyes glowing. “That trait and the firestorm meant I got to know him. His power as an ice dragon meant that the sliver of ice in my heart melted and I began to heal. By the time the Dark Queen broke her bargain with me, tricking me into eternal service by killing Hadrian herself, I knew I’d never be free of her.”
“You could stop doing her will.”
“I could, but she threatened to roast and eat my brothers if I don’t comply. She holds three of them captive now and I hope they’re all still alive.”
There was a gasp of horror at this.
Rania shook her head. “Instead, I want to change the rules. I want to invade Fae and break my brothers free. I want to turn the tables on the Dark Queen, allied with Hadrian, and I need your help to do that.”
A protest rose immediately, but Rania held up her hand for silence. She addressed Caleb. “You’re right that dragons change the rules. You should know that Hadrian, because he’s an ice dragon, not only had the power to thaw my heart but he can melt and destroy the Fae blades that allow them to move between realms.” She paused, then continued. “He even melted the replacement splinter of ice that Maeve sent for me. She thinks it’s in my heart.”
A murmur of excitement passed through the room, and Hadrian knew he wasn’t the only one who believed this could contribute to their success.
“But any Other who enters Fae could be killed,” Murray protested. “We all know we’re on her list.”
“But what about those who are allied with us who aren’t Others?” the bartender asked. She gestured to the group of women seated with Arach and Wynter Olson. “What about mates?”
A woman in that group, one with long dark hair and two young sons, stood up. “We would need to know the risks,” she said and her companions nodded. “We would need to know the plan, and we would need to know that we could trust whoever led us.” She gestured to Rania and spoke coldly. “I saw your kiss of death once. It was effective, I’ll give you that.”
“It is the Dark Queen’s tool and it is relentless,” Rania acknowledged. “It worked twelve times, but not the thirteenth, and now no one has the power to give it again except the Dark Queen herself.”
There was chatter at that, then Murray called for order. “So, what’s the plan?” he demanded. “And what do you want us to do?”
The vampires appeared then, stepping out of the shadows as if they’d always been there. Hadrian knew they hadn’t been. Micah led them, carrying something shrouded in a dark cloth. He placed it on the bar and retreated. Hadrian guessed it was Sebastian’s Fae sword and kept his distance. He didn’t want it to melt before they used it. Sylvia watched intently as if she knew what it was, as well, and a faint silver glow came through the cloth.
“You want to know the plan. It’s fairly simple.” Rania nodded briskly. “Hadrian is going to invade the armory and melt the Fae stock of weapons. I’m going to pretend to still be on the Dark Queen’s side, and take a volunteer from the Pyr to her, supposedly to be slaughtered in front of her. Actually, we’ll be creating a distraction, both for Hadrian and for another volunteer who will steal the gem of the hoard.”
Pandemonium erupted then, protests coming from all sides about the strength of the Fae defenses of their treasury, the extent of Maeve’s malice and the potential price of willingly entering the realm of Fae. There were comments about the untrustworthiness of a known assassin and accusations of manipulation. Rania stood in silence, her head high, and listened. When the furor died a bit, she produced the bichuwa and set it on the bar.
Silence ensued.
“Djinns make the best thieves,” she said quietly, then pivoted to look at the two tables they occupied. At least four djinns turned immediately to smoke to avoid being chosen. “We are talking about taking down the Dark Queen forever.”
The tension in the bar could have been cut with a knife. Rania had thrown down one of her challenges and Hadrian hoped someone would take it. He was aware of all the sidelong glances and the uncertainty, then a dark-haired woman stepped forward. She seemed to walk out of a ribbon of smoke, becoming more substantial with every step she took. Her eyes were dark and her gaze was hard. She was slender, moving with the stealth and elegance of a great cat. She stopped in front of Rania and put out her hand.
“My uncle,” she said.
“Yes.” Rania spun the blade so that the hilt was toward the djinn and bowed her head. “I’m sorry.”
“You thought you had no choice,” the djinn said. “I think maybe you didn’t, not the way the odds were stacked against you, and even if it was a choice, there is honor in defending your own.” She took the blade, smiling down at it as it caught the light. “He had this made.”
“It’s beautiful, lethal and beautiful.”
The djinn moved like lightning, catching Rania around the shoulders and spinning her so that the tip of the blade was at her throat. Hadrian stood up but Rania’s eyes flashed and he recognized that she wouldn’t fight back.