Ah, well. A wry smile twisted her lips. Three times was the charm, wasn’t it?
“What’s in it for me?” she demanded.
Maryam slowly turned to face her. “What do you want?”
“What I’ve always wanted. Power,” Brigette admitted.
Maryam studied her with a narrowed gaze. “Your own pack?”
“Yes.” Brigette smiled as Roban whirled around with a snarl of disbelief. “And money,” she added. “Lots of money.”
The leech nodded, ignoring her companion, who did nothing to hide his gut-deep disgust with Brigette.
“That can be arranged,” the female promised.
“I want it up front.”
Maryam gave a lift of one shoulder. “You have to wait until we get to Chicago.”
“If this is a trick…”
“It isn’t,” Maryam interrupted Brigette’s warning, holding up a slender hand. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Oh, you’ll be hoping to die if you double-cross me.” Brigette strolled forward to join them, blowing a kiss toward the snarling Were. “That’s my promise to you.”
* * * *
It took Levet a full hour to at last track down the Queen of the Mer-folk. The castle beneath the ocean was surprisingly large, but that wasn’t the reason it was so difficult to find Inga. It was because she wasn’t like a traditional queen.
She hated sitting on the massive throne, surrounded by marble and the exquisite murals she’d painted on the walls. Or in her private chambers, which looked like they’d been decorated by the architect who created Versailles. Only on steroids. Massive amounts of steroids.
Perhaps it was because Inga hadn’t been raised to become the ruler of the mer-folk. She hadn’t even known she was a mer-folk. She’d taken after her ogre father, with a large body that stood over six foot and was broad enough to plow through a horde of trolls. Her hair was red and grew in amazing tufts that refused to be tamed by a brush. Her teeth were pointed and her brow heavy. Only her eyes spoke of her mermaid mother. They were a pale blue, although they had a tendency to flash crimson when she was annoyed.
Which was most of the time.
Or perhaps it was because the mer-folk still hadn’t fully accepted her as their leader. Unlike many other demon societies, the throne wasn’t passed down from the mer-folk king to one of his children. It was the large trident that Inga was clutching in her hand that chose the current leader. The magic of the Tryshu not only revealed the king or queen; it also possessed the power to make the leader invincible. At least until it decided to choose a different leader.
The mer-folk were stuck with Inga, but they didn’t have to like it. And there were many in the castle who enjoyed causing trouble for the current queen.
Following her scent into the weapons room, next to the dungeons at the very bottom of the castle, Levet waddled across the bedrock. Around him, a hundred tridents, shields, and armor made out of strange iridescent fish scales were stacked against the wall or hanging from the low ceiling. It wasn’t until he passed through a narrow door, however, that he at last found his quarry.
“There you are, ma belle.”
Inga whirled around, the blousy material of her tie-dyed muumuu floating around her like a psychedelic tent.
“Oh. Levet.” A relieved smile.
Levet would usually assume the smile was because she was pleased to see him. Granted, there were a few odd creatures who didn’t appreciate a three-foot gargoyle with dazzling fairy wings and stunted horns, but overall the females adored him. And why not? He was charming, his magic was awesome, and he was a knight in shining armor who spent his nights saving the world from disaster.
All in all, an amazing creature.
But he sensed Inga’s smile was simply relief that he wasn’t one of the mer-folk. He stepped farther into the cramped space, which was more a closet than an actual room. “Are you hiding again?”
A flush crawled beneath Inga’s cheeks. “Hiding? Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, using the Tryshu to point toward the nearby shelves. Levet ducked, nearly knocked in the head by the butt of the massive trident. “I’m doing an inventory of our weapons.”
Levet wrinkled his brow. “Is that not Rimm’s job? He is the captain of your guards.”
“He’s in charge of the regular weapons, but I have turned this closet into a vault to hold Riven’s collection.”
“Ah.” Riven had been the former king, who’d used a magical artifact to trick the Tryshu into naming him leader so he could rule with an iron fist. He’d been a collector of powerful magic. Most of it evil. “I thought your mother was studying them?”
“She has gone to speak with the ogres.”
Levet widened his eyes. The ogres had not only killed Inga’s father, but they’d tried to murder Inga when she was just a baby.
“After what they did?”
Inga shrugged, although her eyes flashed crimson. “The ogres seem to think that my blood means I’ll be willing to give them a favorable trade deal.”
“Trade for what?”
“Pearls, mainly.”
Levet snorted. He’d never liked ogres. He liked them even less after he’d discovered how they’d hurt Inga.
“Did you tell them to stick the trade deal up their hot toddies?”
She blinked. Then blinked again. “Patooties?”
Levet waved a hand. “Same thing.”
“I wanted to, but my mother convinced me that we can’t afford to turn our backs on potential allies.”
Levet pursed his lips. There were times when he forgot that Inga was a queen who had people who depended on her to make adult decisions.
“I suppose that makes sense,” he grudgingly conceded.
A rare smile touched Inga’s lips. “My mother is the wisest person I’ve ever known.”
Levet reached to touch her arm. For centuries, Inga had believed she was a stain on her family. And that she’d been sold into the slave trade by her own mother. Now she knew that had been a wicked lie, and that she had a family who adored her. It was the one good thing that had come from discovering she was the queen.
“That doesn’t explain why you are hiding in this smelly place,” Levet said.
“I’m not hiding.” Inga heaved a sigh. “Well, not entirely. I’m ensuring that no one has tampered with the magical items.”
“Who would tamper with them? This castle is a fortress.”