Shadow's Claim

"I will forgive this insolence, chalking up your behavior to nerves." Morgana's eyes glittered with warning, silvery pinpoints dotting her dark irises-the rattle before a bite.

Immediately backpedaling, Bettina said, "Nerves, yes, of course." She could feel Morgana's power brimming. Which made her wonder, Why did I ever vow not to tell her about Caspion's predicament? Her godmother could eliminate the vampire assassin with a flick of her hand.

The tiff forgotten, Morgana directed her Inferi to get to work on Bettina. "Hair, dress, makeup, jewelry, mask." Clap clap. "We want the princess looking elaborate! But not necessarily ostentatious. Though she could never upstage me, I don't want her to appear to be trying to."

Bettina sighed and cooperated, dutifully raising her arms, closing her eyes, puckering her lips. Resisting Morgana was impossible-and for others, deadly.

Raum had once asked Bettina, "How can you even tell your godmother loves you?"

"One, because Morgana keeps visiting me in a realm she hates. Two, because I keep surviving the visits. . . ."

Within minutes, Bettina had been transformed. She wore a cropped, sleeveless top of gold mesh, with slightly thicker mesh to cover her br**sts. Her skirt matched, slit up the sides, to show off her jeweled garters and silky thigh-highs.

Her mask was made of bold jade-green feathers that jutted up like small wings well past her head. Her thick hair had been wrapped around her diadem, holding it in place.

"Well?" Bettina asked.

"You are pensive, and it affects your looks. You're not exactly a great beauty anyway. Mouth too wide, cheekbones too sharp. You appear to your best advantage when you smile."

Last night in the dark, her smile had made the vampire's breath hitch. Why do I keep thinking about him? He's not returning.

Then Morgana's words sank in. "Do I really need to appear to my best advantage?" Bettina dared to ask. "The competitors aren't here for me." Morgana opened her mouth to argue, so Bettina said, "Oh, there might be some that are attracted to me. But at best, I'm an . . . an afterthought."

"Afterthought? Do you actually care what they're thinking whether before or after?" She tsked, examining her costume claws. "You should be thanking your godparents for this opportunity. You told us that you wanted to feel protected. To Raum's archaic way of thinking, that means a protector. In any case, this is for your own good. Or have you forgotten that night?"

"As if I ever could." As if you'd ever let me. The humiliation of the court, her cowardly screams echoing from this spire as they'd set her bones . . .

"Do you remember what you told me when we were tucking your ribs back into your torso like little babes under a blanket?"

Bettina nearly retched. "I-I remember." She'd promised them anything.

"Everyone in the kingdom heard you shrieking like a banshee," she continued. "Then I arrived, soothing your woes."

Morgana had scratched her with a toxin-dipped metal claw, and the world had gone blessedly black. . . .

Before an attack could seize her, Bettina hastened outside to the balcony, breathing deeply of the twilight air. She peered upward, some part of her expecting to feel the whoosh of wings at any moment. If she couldn't trust her barrier spell . . .

Just when she'd begun backing off the balcony, Morgana joined her. "Still afraid they'll come here for you?"

"Occasionally." Always.

"That's not rational. There's never been a Vrekener in Abaddon. Why would they chase you down?"

"Vrekeners never abandon their hunt." Yes, she'd once been a mouse beneath a hawk's talon, and she'd escaped. But she knew the hawk would never rest until it had recaptured its prey.

"How could they even reach this plane?" Morgana asked. "They can't trace or create portals. They can't simply fly really, really hard."

I know this.

"There were rumors that the elders of the Vrekener clan vowed to end the killings after Eleara," Morgana said in an inscrutable tone. "Didn't you tell me that your attackers were an offshoot group, acting outside of orders?"

Bettina gazed down at her shaking hands. "I believed so." Though Vrekeners condemned spirits, the four who'd targeted her had been drunken-and their violence had seemed . . . personal. We've been watching you, Princess. "I-I can't be sure."

"Perhaps if Raum can actually eliminate them, you'd feel safer."

For Bettina's willing participation in the tournament, her godparents had made her promises. Raum would send a cadre of demons out to hunt down and secretly assassinate all of Bettina's winged attackers-as yet, those Vrekeners remained untouchable. Morgana would locate and return Bettina's power to her. The sorceress remained coy as to whether she'd retrieved it or not.

"I'll feel safer once I get my power back." Bettina had once been a Queen-not yet a royal one-but a mystical one. A Queen was someone who had better mastery over an element or force than anyone else. She'd been the Queen of Hearts-

"It didn't help you the first time."

"No. But I would learn to control it better, would practice more. Have you located it?"

Morgana quirked a mysterious blond brow. "Don't worry-you'll have it before you wed."

Bettina sighed, turning her attention to the rain forest beyond the city. Deep within those giant moon-raker trees, closeted in vines, was her folly-what used to be her favorite place in Rune. But since the attack, she'd avoided any place with trees.