Free Beyond the Night by Thea Devine Page B

movement drew her attention and she cupped her stomach.
    Poor child. Your mother is a vampire. She must feed, so she must hunt and kill. How can I raise a child with that demon living in my heart, my mind, and my body?

    She was in. At least in the inner courtyard of the royal mews, with the Lord Steward directing her to turn the wagon around, adamant that nothing was wanted with the Queen not in residence at this time, as anyone with half a brain knew.
    Somehow, she managed to tumble off the seat this time, at which point the Master of the Household was called to determine whether she’d injured herself.
    â€œCome, come in.” His tone was not hospitable; he was irritated he had to accommodate a random raggedy stranger and rouse the housekeeper and the cook besides.
    The coveted invitation; she grabbed the opportunity.
    He left her sitting on a stone bench in a small outer room.
    Her ill-conceived scheme couldn’t have gone better, she thought, but now what? The Queen was not in residence yet. Where was Lady Augustine then? Senna had to make a decision quickly.
    Leave or transhape and explore?
    She had seconds. She closed her eyes, envisioning the fly’s compressed little body. But the child was too big. Maybe . . . she felt raw distaste . . . maybe a bat?
    Downward and inward. Contract and pull, the child safely tucked.
    The beating of wings, and she was gone.
    Impressions of high-ceilinged rooms, glazed in gold, fragile, painted porcelain, cut glass, ivory walls, massive expanses sparsely furnished as she sliced through connecting doors going . . . where, she didn’t know.
    The Palace interior. Where she needed to be when the Queen returned.
    Or, the thought struck her, when Lady Augustine might take her place. In the wake of the Prince’s death many years before, the Queen had been absent from the Palace and London altogether for extended periods.
    However, even though things had changed and she was due in town this very week, Lady Augustine still had a clear path, an empty Palace, and the wherewithal to take the Queen’s place. And no one to stop her.
    The audacity of it took Senna’s breath for a moment, and she swooped down to perch on the edge of a sofa.
    With only one little accident that disabled the Queen, Lady Augustine could slip into her shoes with impunity and no one would ever know. Another year, declare the Queen dead, and the way was open for vampiric domination.
    She’d have to leave the way she came and she barely remembered how she’d gotten where she was.
    She pushed her way up high against the ceiling, reversing direction. She was flagging a little as she slipped through one room after another, hoping one door would finally lead to the mews anteroom.
    She finally perched in the shadows at the top of a door that had been left ajar where she could hear voices.
    The Master of the Household was speaking, his tone grim. “I have no idea where that beggar disappeared to. We’ve searched everywhere. But I’ll tell you this: we are not going to make an incident of this because it will reflect an undue carelessness on our part.”
    They would keep searching, he said, and tell no one. Likely, the culprit was hiding in the root cellar. They’d never invite a stranger into the anteroom again when the Queen was not in residence.
    They marched into the anteroom, and as the housekeeper closed the door, Senna flew out into the mews and the hot sunlight.
    There. She grabbed on to the stables’ roof. A few moments to collect herself, and she’d get herself to Lombard Street and Mirya’s safe haven.
    And then the child moved. She tumbled off the roof, and into an unoccupied stall, catching herself just in time so that she didn’t hit the ground. But not in time to prevent the transhaping of her body into her corporeal self.
    Time stopped as she fought for control. There was no way out. Her wagon was not in the courtyard.