The Best Medicine Ch. 06

"I tapped you on the shoulder!"

"-- knowing full well that I hated spiders and that I knew he turned into one --"

"I had never met you!"

"-- so I might have panicked a little --"

"You knocked me unconscious!"

"And then jumped up on a chair and screamed like a little girl," Clara pointed out, giggling hysterically.

Shamira took Trina by the arm and led her out of the room. "They're exaggerating."

"No, we're not!" Clara called after her.

Trina felt a little better, in spite of herself. "You're really not what I was expecting."

Shamira opened a door for her. "How so?"

"You're Shadow Wing. You're supposed to be big and mysterious. Instead you're . . . kind of normal."

"I'm not sure how to take that," Shamira replied with a grin.

"I don't mean it in a bad way."

The other vampire shrugged. "Didn't have a whole lot of say in the matter. Some ancient lizard decided that I fit the criteria he wanted for his 'living embodiment,' and here I am. I had barely gotten used to being a vampire, and then I had to be a dragon? And raise dragons? It completely sucks. I never get to spend any serious alone time with any of the doms --"

"Doms?"

"Dominants. Versus submissives. They did tell you what goes on around here, didn't they?"

"Right. That. Anyway, so you really don't like being a dragon?"

"Oh, I like it okay. Took less time to get used to it than it took to being a vamp."

Trina cocked her head. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I knew about the Greater Dragons a little. When I started gaining all of the Shadow Aspects and all, Shane at least warned me that it could happen. When I became a vampire, I didn't even know they existed."

"Wait, I thought that wasn't possible. Aren't you supposed to be prepped or something?"

"Shane made an exception. I saved his life, or at least thought I did, but it pretty much cost me mine. I used to be a cop, and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Well, maybe the right place at the right time, but anyway, I wound up getting shot. He decided that there was something he saw that was worth saving, he bit me and did the whole blood exchange thing, and there it was. I went into the afterlife, and came back with Moon Dragon power. Freaky."

"Seriously? You'd never heard of vampires before?"

Shamira held the door to a large structure open. "Nope. I woke up in a silk lined coffin, thinking I'd been buried alive."

"Woah." Trina walked through the door. "Real silk?"

"Yeah, I was surprised too."

"Posh."

"We still have the coffin back at Shane's estate. It's pretty sweet."

Trina was about to say something else, but then she saw what else was in the enormous room with her. Across the way, Aodh was sleeping on a pile of shiny rocks which Trina was convinced were jewels. Next to him was a brown-skinned dragon about fifteen feet long with horns projected from above its eyes. And its feet seemed to be moving --

"Be quiet," Shamira said. "That's Nu. I think she's dreaming about hunting. And those two," she added pointing towards the indoor beach that bordered the Atlantic, "are Jörmungandr and Raz, our Sea Serpents."

"They're huge!"

"Yeah, and they're gonna get bigger. Archimedes says that fossil records show that they can be two-hundred yards or more. Then the gray one over there is Stomper. He's Stone Dragon, and he's gonna be a hefty boy. Ehecatl is our Quetzalcoatl, and he's hiding somewhere in those crates over there. He and the Sea Serpents don't get along, but Aodh's gotten better at keeping them all in check. I've got a couple of blood donors who all the beasties respect that help too, but tonight's their anniversary so I ordered them to go out to dinner."

Trina was just staring. "They're all so . . . so beautiful."

Shamira sighed. "Yeah, they are. And they're a royal pain in my ass. This way. We've got a lot of blood packets in here, since I spend most of my time around the kids."

"You really don't like being a momma dragon?"

Shamira rolled her head, thinking things over. "I love 'em. I really do. But it seems from the moment I got turned into a vampire, I've never had any time to just adjust. I went from human to vampire, from sexually repressed to . . . well, NOT sexually repressed, from single to dating someone sixty years older than me, from enforcer to dragon caretaker, and it's all just hard. There are a lot of days when I just don't think I can deal anymore."

Trina sat in a sterile plastic chair, then closed her eyes. "So how do you survive? How do you cope? I keep thinking I'm going to go crazy. This isn't my body, this isn't my face or my voice. It's not even my species. No elf has ever been converted into a vampire. Ever."

"Honestly? After every time I got knocked down, I did the only thing I knew how to do."

"Which was?"

"The same damn thing I had done the day before. I just live my life as best I can so that I can look myself in the mirror just before dawn and tell myself that I did all I could." Shamira grabbed a blood pack out of the mini-fridge and popped it into the microwave. "Trust me, a major physiological change doesn't mean that you aren't who you were, or at least not the 'who' that really matters. I can look at my own reflection and see a dragon, a vampire, a woman, and they're all right, but they're not . . . well, they're not ALL. I'm more than any of those things."

Trina bit her bottom lip, feeling a pinch. "Ouch!"

Shamira smiled. "Your nose is reacting to the blood, and it's triggering your fangs. Happens to all of us."

The battle-dancer ran her tongue over her new fangs. "Freaky."

Shamira got the blood pack out. "Okay, your mind is going to seriously revolt against this, but I promise you that you'll be over it by the end of the first sip. Live donors are better, so find someone who you trust, but packs do in a pinch."

Strangely, drinking blood was not as hard as she expected, and Trina was grateful to have some alone time with Shamira. The vampire dragon woman had been through so much, and it encouraged the former elf to know that this woman had made it through. Shamira talked about her adjustments, including dealing with increasingly dangerous powers, responsibilities as an enforcer, and even her relationship.

"Really?" Trina was asking.

"Yep. Clara actually being attracted to me freaked me out more than almost anything. I had never really let myself think that I might be into girls back when I was alive. And that anyone would look at me and think that waking up next to me all the time was freaky. Of course, I was still getting used to this notion that wanting to be dominated was okay."

"Why wouldn't you think she wouldn't like you like that?"

Shamira pulled up the sleeve to her robe and flexed her arm. "Because most humans are intimidated by a woman with fifteen-inch biceps."

"Humans are weird that way." Trina made a sighing motion, then realized that she had no breath to pass through her lungs. "So is it all worth it? All the rest of the crap that you've had to go through?"

Shamira nodded. "When I was probably as low as I could get, Clara was the one who reminded me that I wouldn't change a thing, even the things that hurt."

"How long does it take to get over the things that hurt?"

This time, the living incarnation of the last Moon Dragon just shook her head. "Did they tell you? What happened to me?" When Trina nodded, Shamira continued. "Don't tell anyone, though Clara already knows, but I sometimes wake up in the middle of the day, and I'm right back there. Hanging in a bleeding room, my body only being held together by the skin and scars . . . I don't know if there are some things you just don't get over. You survive them, then try and deal."

"Like knowing what the sound of your own neck snapping is like because you heard it with your own ears and performed it with your own hands?"

Shamira gave the vampire a quick, understanding hug. "Yeah, even stuff like that."

The two of them stepped outside the barn to head back to the feast hall, but Shamira put her arm across Trina's chest. "Those two look familiar to you?"

It took a moment before she got her eyes to adjust, but Trina was able to make out the distant forms of Baron Montain and his chief "advisor," a cold and dangerous elf named Torris. The Baron was gesturing wildly and whispering heatedly, though at that distance, even vampiric hearing could not make out the words.

"I hate that man," Trina whispered, keeping her eyes glued on the Baron. "That's the guy the King wanted Vanesse to marry, and he's even more politically backwater than the King is."

"You gonna get in trouble for badmouthing the monarch?"

"Vanesse is the true monarch. The current King is just a place holder. Besides, he keeps pointing out that I'm not an elf anymore, so I can say any damn thing I want. I just wish that I could hear what they're saying."

Shamira grinned. "Leave that to me. My Shadow Aspects can be somewhat useful."

Trina watched as Shamira stepped back into the shadows, then vanished completely.

"Okay, that's kinda cool." The battle-dancer waited patiently for Shamira's return, which was not long.

"Sorry, but they were almost done by the time I got over there."

"How did you --"

"I can basically move and hide through shadows. Perks of being a pseudo-dragon. Anyway, that Torris guy was basically apologizing for 'not getting there in time' while the Baron was mad at him for 'blowing their chance to nip this problem in the bud.' It was all pretty much variations on that theme."

"I know it was him. The Baron and his like have the most to lose from the Princess taking the throne. Most elvish nobility opposes the concept of integrating with the human race. Vanesse's parents were very progressive on that subject. I think they would have supported the Tribunal on this, and Vanesse is too much like her parents, no matter what the King has tried to do."

"What do you mean?"

"The whole thing behind her 'Alaskan retreat'? It was bullshit. He hid her up there when she was too young to object, and he's been trying to make her into a the kind of Princess HE wants."

"Which is?"

"Complacent. Someone who will provide the new king with nice elf heirs and keep her mouth shut."

Shamira scrunched her eyebrows. "I've known her for like a few hours, and even I know that won't work."

"You'd be surprised. She was having all sorts of confidence issues, and it took her a long time to stand up to her uncle. But yeah, I think she would never have been as easy to control as they thought."

"Sometimes," Shamira said, seeing some conflict in the other vampire's eyes, "all a person needs is the support of the right person. You've done everything you could for your Princess, including dying. Trust that you did it all for a good reason."

Trina nodded. "I should talk to Vanesse about this." She followed Shamira inside to find that the feast hall was in a state of chaos.

Vanesse was standing in the center of the room. On one side of her was the King. On the other side, the Shepherd. The elvish representative to the Tribunal was yelling at the top of his lungs, as was his counterpart. Vanesse was just looking from one to the other, angry as all get out but unable to get a word in edgewise. The Alpha had arrived, and the burly werewolf was basically in conference with Farmer, trying to persuade her not to get involved.

"-- the arrogance!" the King was shouting, a little louder at the moment than the Shepherd could manage. "Are you going to deny --"

"Be very careful about any accusations you make," the Shepherd interrupted.

"This whole thing reeks of --"

"Both of you, SHUT UP!" the Princess screeched, her voice breaking at the higher notes. Her notes seemed to strike a chord, as both of the elder elvish statesmen actually stopped and stared at her. "I cannot . . . ooh, I cannot believe the two of you! I'm standing right here, but you're both arguing about me like I'm a five year old! No, not even a child. I'm just a possession to be squabbled over."

"Vanesse --" the Shepherd started, but Vanesse cut him off.

"No, you don't get to pretend to be familiar. Let's just forget the last fifteen years, because we know why you haven't been around for that part of my life. What about before? I might have been a lot more willing to talk to you if you'd been there for me EVER!"

"Princess," the King said, "this is hardly the time --"

"And YOU!" she said, getting in the King's face. "Filling my head with your stories of an anti-elf movement that no one but you has ever heard of? Making Trina lie to me? Separating me from the world in hope that you can make me into another one of your little anti-integration drones? And don't tell me this isn't the time to discuss it, because you two were the ones who started bringing up family laundry in the middle of a spirits-damned feast hall!"

"I think that you've said quite enough. Now you will go to your quarters and --"

"And what if I don't?"

The King's face was turning an unflattering shade of purple. "I am the King, and you are --"

"The Princess! The RIGHTFUL heir to the throne."

"How dare you?! You are twenty years from the throne, and until then, I am your sovereign ruler!"

Vanesse pulled herself up to her entire five feet, five inches in height. "You are a royal place-holder."

For a moment the world slowed down, as the King's look of indignation led to a raising of his hand. He looked like he was actually going to slap the Princess. Then his hand came down --

*SMACK!*

When the King's hand struck skin, that skin was pale, cold, and unmoving. Faster than anyone could even see, Trina had positioned herself between King and Princess, letting herself be struck.

"You!" the King said. "I should have you executed for this!"

"You were about to strike the Princess," Trina replied quietly, "and an unprovoked physical attack on ANY member of the monarchy is an offense that can be punished by life in prison or death." Then, Trina's voice took on a tone that was filled with shadows and ice crystals. "And until I'm completely dead, no one lays a hand on the Princess without her permission. Not even you."

"Trina?" the Shepherd said softly.

The elf-turned-vampire lowered her head. "Shepherd. How --"

"How did I know? The Representative told me about you being transferred into a vampire's body. But even without that, I know you. I know how you look when you're protecting her. You started the day she was born."

"Guards, take this vampire --"

"King Ralisen," the Shepherd said, "I know elvish law. If you had struck the Princess, those very guards you want to call would be obligated to put YOU in chains. You might want to consider thanking her for stopping what might have been your last act as monarch."

The King did not look like he wanted to thank Trina. Not at all. If anything, his eyes were peeling away layers of her skin and scorching the flesh underneath. Her hatred for him was being returned tenfold. She had just humiliated him . . . the King. And for the moment, there was nothing he could do. Nothing except --

"Princess, I apologize. It appears that I am not in my right mind at this point. I suggest that we all retire for the day." He stared a hole in Trina's skull. "It will give me time to contact the Academy and request your new battle-dancer." He turned and walked away, his guards in tow. The Baron glanced over his shoulder once, then followed his King.

"Princess --" the Shepherd said.

"Not now," Vanesse said, resting her face on Trina's shoulder. Her new hair was soft, and smelled of violet.

"Princess, perhaps the King is right about getting some rest," Lord Stapleton said, feeling obvious relief that he was not going to have an elvish civil war break out in Banshee's house.

"Vanesse, why don't you go to your rooms? See if Farmer might like to join you."

Vanesse looked up, confused and alarmed. "What about you?"

"The Shepherd and I have a few things to discuss, I should think." Trina turned and looked into her friend's eyes. "I won't be far, Princess. No matter what he says or does, I'll be there when you need me."

"I know." Vanesse turned and walked away, with most of Joker's Wild as well as Aven and Neva, and with Bunny and Banshee leading the way. Others began to filter out until the only ones left in the room were Trina, the members of the Tribunal, and Lord Stapleton.

"Are you all right, Lady Trina?" Shane Staleton asked. "That was a brave and impetuous thing you just did."

"I'm fine. Really. I didn't mean to bring this trouble to your door --"

"Don't mention it," he told her. "I've had Shamira in my house for over a year now, so I'm used to the trouble caused by the 'brave and impetuous'."

"Lord Stapleton," the Representative said, arching one immaculate eyebrow, "Leave Shamira alone. Unless YOU would like to take care of several multi-ton ancient reptiles --"

"I was not complaining," Shane replied with a smile. "Just making an observation." He offered the Representative his arm. "I believe that Trina would like some alone time with the Shepherd. May I escort you to your room?"

After the twosome had disappeared, the Alpha looked at the Shepherd. "They're going to go and --"

"Yes, they are."

The massive werewolf sighed. "I'm gonna go find the kitchen and fix up a couple burgers. Want anything?"

The Shepherd's gaze was on Trina. "No, but thank you." And a moment later, it was just the two of them in the room.

"She doesn't hate you," Trina said, sitting down in the middle of the abandoned hall. "She's just really angry at you."

The Shepherd pulled up a chair. "She has every right to be. Her life hasn't been easy recently, has it?"

"No. But she's tough. Tougher than the King thought she would be."

"And what about you?" the Shepherd asked gently.

Trina's smile was not as forced as it might have been an hour earlier, but it was not easy. "I'll get by. I'm still not sure how it happened, but I guess I'll just have to deal."

The Shepherd leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "Your Word was simply too strong to break."

Trina rolled her eyes. "Can't be. Battle-dancers give their Words all the time."

"But none of them gave it to the person rather than the crown. My theory, based on what the Representative and Lillian have told me, is that your will, the Dancer in White's blessing, and the circumstances of your Word all contributed to your death-defying behavior. When a battle-dancer gives his or her Word to the crown, part of the typical script is that the crown will release you upon death. You were given no such out in your Word."

"That can't be it. Can it?"

"Trina, many beings forget just how powerful words can be. They have slain kings, toppled governments, and changed the very course of history. When you gave your Word, you were not thinking of changing the world, but the people who DO make such changes rarely plan them in advance. You have kept the Princess alive and safe, and you have been the rock she needed when the rest of us could not."

Trina smiled, a little more genuinely this time. "I wish her parents were able to see her now. I think they'd be proud of her today."

"I think they'd be proud of both of you." The Shepherd leaned back. "You were as much their daughter as Vanesse. Vanesse may have inherited her father's will, but you . . . you remind me so much of her mother. She could be so ferocious in one moment, then so gentle the next. One side steel, one side silk."

Trina thought back as hard as she could, back to the moment where the elvish guards had removed her and her fellow captives from the dog-pen they were being held in, presenting Trina in all her anger to the woman who would be Queen. Vanesse's mother was probably the most beautiful woman Trina had ever seen, and she just grinned at Trina when the young girl held up her sharpened bit of bone, intent on protecting herself to the very end.