The Best Medicine Ch. 06

But Trina was paying no mind to her Princess's words, and she was looking around wildly for the threat. "You're in danger," she said, matter-of-factly.

"I'm naked!"

"You can be both."

"I am not in danger, now would you all please get out of here?"

Farmer walked up. "What's going --"

Trina turned on her. "Why did you let her out of your sight? You know how much danger she's in!"

"I was down the hall, she was taking a shower, and there was no way anyone was getting by me without me knowing," the matriarch of the pack growled. "What the hell's gotten into you?"

Trina looked around again and began to panic. She did not see the threat. She just --

The Shepherd, who had arrived and stood in the doorway, stared at the frantic elf-turned-vampire. "Trina, calm down. Trust your instincts. Do you still hear whatever it is that you hear?"

She nodded. "It's not as loud, but it's still there." She wished that she could take a deep breath, but she had not learned how to make her lungs work. It was not something she normally had to think about. "I swear, I'm not making it up."

"I believe you," Farmer said, trying to get her own temper under control. "After what you pulled the first time you got shot? I think you deserve the benefit of the doubt."

Trina felt a surge of grateful relief. She just needed to think. The sound had gotten louder until the moment she had burst through the door, then something had happened to diminish the danger. She looked for something that did not belong. Vanesse, her clothes, the sheets, the decorations, the . . . "Farmer, no one got by you?"

"Just the serving lady with the tea, and she was on the list of safe visitors."

Trina reached for the teapot that was still sitting on the table, and the alarms in her head turned into a full orchestra doing "Ride of the Valkyries." "The tea," she said.

Farmer grabbed the pot and took a deep sniff. The first time, she just looked confused. On the second inhale, she began to look angry. "There's something there. I wouldn't have even noticed if I hadn't been sensing for it." She looked at Banshee. "Got a werewolf or something with a better nose?"

"I'll do one better. Clara is a shaman, and she can can break apart the natural from any possible toxins." She gave the pot to one of her enforcers and sent him to Clara. "Now, I need to find that server."

Finding the middle-aged woman was not as hard as expected. She was lying in a pantry just off the kitchen, a stab-wound to the heart. And shortly thereafter, they received word from Clara that the tea had indeed been poisoned.

"Princess," Banshee said, her head bowed, "I apologize for what happened. I cannot believe that one of my own employees would have made such an attempt."

The King, who had been pacing furiously, stood straight. "Save your worthless apologies. Such a complete failure on the part of your security will not be tolerated. "Princess, gather your things. We'll be leaving."

It was the Princess's turn to look angry. "No, WE won't."

"They have failed to protect you --"

"Trina protected me, as always," she shot back pointedly. "And your guards in Alaska didn't exactly make the grade either, did they?"

"There is the possibility that the would-be assassin had no idea what was in the tea. Vanesse, did you order anything to drink?" Lord Stapleton asked.

"No. It was just left here when I got out of the shower."

The Shepherd looked to Banshee. "Might I advise that no food or drink be delivered to the Princess without its preparation being overseen by --"

"You have no right to interfere," the King sneered.

"I'm giving him the right," Vanesse said. "And I'm not running. Whatever problems you two have, you deal with them. Someone's trying to kill me still, in the most heavily fortified household on the planet. Unless someone snuck in and headed straight for the kitchen --"

"Then it was someone already here," Banshee said. She pulled out her walkie-talkie. "As of right now, the grounds are under total lock down. No one enters or leaves the property without my say-so." She looked at Sebastian. "Double all patrols. Report any suspicious activity directly to me."

"You are completely incapable of --" the King started to say, then Banshee set her eyes on him.

"The presence of an assassin on these grounds presents a threat not only to the Princess, but to four members of the Tribunal. So unless Lord Stapleton decides to supersede my authority, then as the regional sheriff, I am taking charge of this situation. My power comes directly from the Tribunal, which supersedes all others. Including yours."

"How dare --"

"I dare because I serve a cause greater than my own ego," she said shortly, then turned to leave.

"Sheriff Banshee," Vanesse said, "I'm sorry. About the woman."

"Thank you. If she is shown to be innocent, then her family will be compensated." Then Banshee left.

Lord Stapleton leaned over and whispered to the Princess, "She is really angry."

"How can you tell? She looked just the same."

"I've known her for two centuries. I promise you, the moment she gets out of eyeshot of everyone, something will get broken. She rarely unleashes her rage in public." He glanced at Shamira for a moment, who was whispering something to Clara. "You don't want to be in her way when that happens."

"What does she do?" Vanesse asked.

"She kills everything in her path without quarter or mercy. She doesn't even bother asking questions. Whoever did this, on her turf, making me look bad while also endangering her friends . . . this may wind up qualifying before it is all said and done."

Vanesse looked towards where Banshee had exited. "She's as dangerous as I was told."

"My favorite metaphor is that of snow. Beautiful, even delicate looking, but once she begins to move, very few things on earth can stand against her." He then sought out the King. "My apologies, your Majesty. Banshee has taken great affront to the attempt on the Princess's life. Now that we've locked down the property --"

"You cannot actually mean to keep me here against my will?" the King said. "I can call the entire elvish empire on this house --"

"And if you do," the Shepherd said, stepping in front of his son, "it will be considered an act of aggression against the Tribunal."

"Oh good grief," Vanesse said, throwing her hands up in the air. "Why don't you all just whip them out and compare lengths."

All three of the men stopped and looked at her.

"What? It was an expression that Farmer taught me. It means --"

"I think we are all aware of what it means," Lord Stapleton said, trying not to smirk.

"Anyway, this is to some degree irrelevant. King Ralisen, regardless of your own reservations, I still feel just as safe here as I have anywhere else. I will not run from this threat a moment longer." She looked at her grandfather. "And stop trying to turn things into an international, interracial incident just so that you can justify your involvement. Just because I am interested in renewing our familial friendship and relationship does not mean that I want you riding to my rescue 'in the name of the Tribunal' every time you see fit. The King was right about one thing, namely that you chose to join the Tribunal and thereby left, for all intents and purposes, the elvish royalty. I believe your reasons were just, but it does not change the facts of things."

She turned to look at Shane. "You . . . well, you've actually been very courteous. And you look magnificent in that suit."

"I consider myself suitably chastised."

She turned away, then back. "Oh. 'Suit-ably.' Ha-ha."

"Normally, I have others do the comic relief for me."

"Now everyone, out of my quarters! Except Trina. And Farmer. And Joker's Wild, of course. Oh, and could Bunny and Lillian stay?"

"Anyone else?"

Vanesse smiled sweetly. "No, that's fine. Unless Shamira wants to --"

"Shamira would love to have a slumber party," the muscular vamp in question said, "but she's getting called back to the barn. Apparently, the Sea Serpents and the Quetzalcoatl are having yet another territorial dispute." She looked to Clara. "Seriously, two of them live in the ocean and the other is from Mexico. Why are they fighting over that stupid thing?"

"Some children have blankies," Clara explained, as if to a child, "Ehecatl has a rubber raft. It just happens to be Jörmungandr's and Raz's favorite pool toy."

"Shamira doesn't get to have 'normal' conversations very often, does she?" Vanesse asked after Shamira and Clara had left.

"Not very often," Lillian replied. "So, did you wish to speak with us about anything in particular?"

Vanesse sat down and crossed her hands. "I think that I have a plan that might end this whole mess sooner rather than later, but tactics," she said dryly, glancing sideways at Trina, "have never been my strong point. As someone in this room has pointed out. More than once."

"I took your queen with a pawn. That snuck up on you," Trina reminded her. "That and continuously running into danger when I tell you not to."

"You're going to hold that against me forever, aren't you?"

Trina raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who made me immortal." Then, to add a touch of sophistication, she stuck her tongue out.

"Nice clothes, by the way," Vanesse said at last. She let her eyes linger on those soft, full breasts, then they slid down around the hourglass figure to the leather-clad legs.

Trina glanced at Jack. "NOT my idea."

"Well whoever's idea it was, damn good job. Do you think I'd look good in something like that?"

"Yes," responded absolutely everyone in the room at once.

"Really?"

"Really!"

"Hmm," she murmured. "You know, something like that might help with the plan. Who do I need to talk to get myself a new outfit. I'm willing to pay --"

"I think that Banshee would be more than happy to lend you her clothier," Trina said, "now what is this plan?"

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A few hours later . . .

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It turned out that Banshee's clothier had an outfit identical to the one Trina was wearing, but in a beautiful emerald green color. And when someone suggested that Vanesse wear a green silk g-string underneath to give a "whale tail" effect, she became completely drool-worthy. It got Trina excited just looking at the woman. It also made her nervous.

"I don't like this," she told her friend as she helped brush out Vanesse's beautiful white-blonde hair.

"I know you don't. But I can't keep going on like this, looking over my shoulder for the next attempt. Whoever tried the poisoned tea came after me and killed someone else right under the nose of the King, the regional lord, and the Tribunal. An innocent person died just because of her proximity to me. You don't need to tell me that it was not my fault, but I'll be damned if I'm going to sit around and wait for it to happen again." She turned and faced the new, dark eyes of her battle-dancer. "What would you have me do? Hide like the little girl the King thinks I should be?"

Trina, at that proximity, could practically hear Vanesse's heartbeat, could smell the Princess's delicate perfume and the slight nervous sweat underneath, and could almost taste the woman's lips from three feet away, so answering became a labored process. "Would you hate me if I said 'yes'? Just this one time?"

"No, but you know damn well I'd ignore you. This one time. I need to fight this battle, Trina. You made me ready for this. You and Farmer and the pack. This is me getting ready for my future, and that means I need to play their game. Again, this one time."

"I can't stop you," Trina whispered, leaning against the bathroom wall, "and I'll do whatever you say. But I don't have to like it."

For a moment, Vanesse had doubts. The last time she had ignored Trina's advice, Trina had nearly paid the ultimate price, saved only by the intervention of providence. Then the Princess shook off the doubt. She would, in her life, sometimes have to take risks, even if the results broke her spirit in half. "I know. But I'm going to do it anyway. I want to sleep in peace, I want to learn everything that the King did not want me to know," she said huskily, stepping closer to Trina, who could not back any further away. "And I want you with me the whole time." She cocked her head, exposing her neck. "Have you learned how to bite people yet?"

Trina's mouth dropped open a bit, and she felt her fangs lusting for that skin. "No. And not you. Never you."

Vanesse felt herself growing flush as her anger reared its ugly head. "Why? Why are you so afraid --"

"You are, first and foremost, my Princess," Trina said, trying to scoot sideways. "It's my job and my duty to keep you from bleeding, not to cause it."

"You know damn well that a good vampire bite is considered to be one of the most erotic sensations one can experience," Vanesse said sternly. "Bunny likened it to 'the ultimate rush.' So unless you're saying that you don't want to experience in the flesh what we experienced in my dreams," she said, pushing herself up against Trina until their faces were just an inch apart, "then I will have your teeth inside me. You've sustained me my whole life, so you WILL let me do the same for you."

"Princess --"

"And dammit, stop calling me Princess!"

"--Vanesse, we should go and get ready for your announcement."

"Are you trying to run away from me?" Vanesse asked, almost amused by the prospect.

Trina's eyes were almost all black now, a definite sign of vampiric arousal. "If we don't go now, I'm not going to be able to hold back much longer, and I'll be doing things to you that will prevent you from walking straight for a week."

Vanesse's breath caught in her throat, which she cleared with a deep breath that made her tits rub against Trina's. Did she really need to do this right away?

"When this is done --" she started to say, then slowly peeled herself away. Then, her body had other ideas and pushed itself against the voluptuous vampire and Vanesse kissed Trina with everything she had.

Trina's fingers dug into the wall behind her as the inferno-like heat that Vanesse's mouth seemed to have turned into flooded her senses and warmed her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Her teeth started to expand, just long enough to touch Vanesse's bottom lip before that saucy vixen pulled away.

"So don't think of going anywhere," the Princess whispered. Only a week or so earlier, she had been terrified of sex. Now, she wanted it so much that it hurt. And she knew in her heart that she wanted Trina . . . the old and the new parts of her . . . to be intimately involved. She licked her lips hungrily, then walked out of the bathroom, leaving Trina in a state of almost painful arousal.

The group made its way out to the feast hall, where Sheriff Banshee's people were getting ready for Vanesse's "state of the elvish kingdom" magical broadcast. The King and his entourage were already there, and his eyes almost popped out of his head like cartoon comic devices when he saw what Vanesse was wearing.

"Princess Vanesse, what do you think you're doing?! I order you --"

"You cannot order me to do anything, your Majesty. You may be King . . . for now," she added with a hint of mischief, "but I am the one person in our kingdom that you have no real authority over. The moment I turned twenty, you lost the right to decide my life."

"This is outrageous!" the Baron said. "Your Majesty," he said, turning to Tarrin, "surely you can --" He stopped when the King shot a cold look at him. "My apologies," Baron Montain added, not sounding sorry at all, "I forgot my place," he added, looking at Vanesse with pure venom seeping out of his eyes.

"Princess, I must insist that you consider the image that you are putting forward to the world and to our people," the King said through gritted teeth. "Do you really want to look like a --" He stopped, looking for the right word.

"Slut?" the Princess provided. "Whore, perhaps? Or maybe hussie? I prefer 'liberated' myself," she said, walking up to the podium that faced the circle where the far-speak spell would be cast. It was a spell that could transmit her words and image to the furthest reaches of the world, for anyone willing to listen.

"Princess, I demand that you --"

"I suggest you take your places, she interrupted. "I want to get this speech started." She heard rather than saw the King moving quickly towards her position. The King would be expected to stand with the Princess, though she was expecting him to try and hijack the transmission somehow. She would not let him. Quickly, she glanced at Lillian, who was aiding Clara and the pixie sorceress Corament in prepping for the casting. The redheaded necromancer met her gaze and winked. Things on her end were ready.

"Start the spell," Vanesse said, just as the King, the Baron, and the elvish "problem solver" Torris took the stage behind her, struggling to make themselves presentable.

A glowing blue circle appeared in front of her, so the Princess began to speak.

"To all those who have chosen to receive this far-speak and to let me into your lives for a moment, I thank you. My name is Princess Vanesse Bellethial, heir to the Elvish Crown, and niece to King Tarrin Ralisen. As many of you well know, I have recently been in a dire situation where I was kidnapped, taken from personal retreat by the most disreputable sort of criminals. I have since been rescued, and thank all of those who attempted to aid me during my time of need."

Her voice took on a darker tone. "But there is more to the story. Someone out there in the world sought to take advantage of the chaos and put a bounty out on my life. This bounty caused me to be hunted by evil men, and it resulted in great harm and pain to those in my company." She took a breath, then skipped into the next part of her speech. "Based on testimony given by captives taken during the course of my flight to the lands of Lord Stapleton, it is believed that the individual responsibility for the death bounty was actually an elvish royal who sought to derail my ascension to the throne."

Behind her, the King gasped and his eyes shot open, while the Baron's skin went unusually pale. Torris barely blinked, though his eyes hardened.

Vanesse continued. "I did not understand why at first, but then it occurred to me that whoever would do such a thing thought that I might follow in my parents' footsteps and prepare the elvish people for the future rather than the past. I have since learned of the proposed Unveiling, which my parents would undoubtedly have supported. Therefore, so will I.

"As a result, I find myself re-evaluating the way in which the elves live. How can we possibly join the modern world with as outdated a governing system as a monarchy? The most successful civilizations on earth have moved towards versions of a democracy, and I feel that, in order to remain competitive and vibrant, so must we. I shall not let some backwater noble afraid of change stop me from doing what I must.

"I am not your typical elvish royalty," she continued. "I have seen much recently and, with the help of an entire pack of werehyenas as well as a very good friend, I have enjoyed such experiences as any young necromancer could possibly hope." She resisted the urge to grin as someone behind her became positively apoplectic. "And I intend to continue gathering such experiences, as often and as exotic as possible.

"But that leaves me with the question of what to do with my Kingdom? I have come to the conclusion that the elvish people are in something of a bind. On one hand, you have a King who has grown somewhat stagnant and old-fashioned in his belief system --"

"Now wait just a moment --" the King started to say, but Vanesse ignored him.