“Lil, wake up,” Antonio’s voice called from far away. “Time to open those beautiful blue eyes.”

I grumbled, my voice sounding hoarse, and tried to roll, but something cold and hard hindered my action, even though it hadn’t felt like I had stopped rolling, more like I was rocking back and forth in a soothing motion.

“Oh, come on,” Antonio murmured. “I’m sure you’re thirsty by now.” A snort. “And I dare say you need it with how pale you are.” A jiggle of my shoulder. “Wake up.”

“Go ‘way,” I rumbled, shaking his hand off my shoulder. “Tired.” I heard him grunt, then the smell of blood wafted on the air under my nose. I sniffed again, lifting my head to the scent, my fangs descending. It was Antonio’s blood. I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but I did. My eyes slammed open. “Are you hurt?”

We were in my Hummer and it was dimly lit inside, like it was parked in a garage with a faulty light bulb, placed far away, as the only lighting, so I was unable to tell what time of day it was. I was on the passenger’s side, and the seat was reclined — Antonio on the driver’s side. I blinked, rubbing my eyes as he shook his head — covered with black hair — and sliced into his wrist with a knife, sticking it against my mouth. “Drink, Lil. You’ve been asleep for a while and I’m sure you’re thirsty. Just don’t take too much. I need to be coherent.”

“Really?” I asked, never having drank off anyone but Dominic, but seriously loathing bagged blood. I stared at his wrist where it healed almost instantly. “You don’t mind?”

“No, I don’t mind,” he said softly. “Just drink.” He sliced into his wrist again, pressing it once again against my lips.

Not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth, I bit into his healing wrist, and my thoughts stuttered on what to send him as I took a gentle pull. I couldn’t send him what I had always used on Dominic because…well, that would be just disgusting…but almost instantly, I knew to send him serenity, and I pushed with that, confused at how easy it was, but his blood overtook those spiraling thoughts and I drank my fill of his very powerful tasting, bubbly blood, but stopped before his heart rate slowed so he wouldn’t be disoriented as he had asked. Licking over the wound, I laid his limp hand on his lap and sat my chair up, watching his face and listening to his heartbeat.

His eyes blinked open fairly quickly, and he asked, “Was that enough? Or should I get Bindi?”

My fangs instantly retracted. “Bindi?” I knew who she was, or at least, I thought I did. I was pretty sure that was the name of the Mage medic who was always down in the training arena for Mysticals who got injured. “Are you insane?” I rubbed my forehead, trying to wake up further. “Antonio, what are you thinking?”

Antonio sat still for a few seconds, odd sounds coming from his throat, until he stated breathlessly, “She knows about your hybrid nature, and she’s traveling with us and willing to donate.”

All truths. My jaw hung open. “What the fuck, Antonio? How the hell does she know about me?” My frantic gaze darted back and forth between his. “Do we need to kill her?” When he started making that odd noise again in his throat, I jerked my head around to the scenery, confused as to how we had gotten in my Hummer.

I stilled, seeing a flash of black. I picked up a piece of my hair, eyeing it. It was no longer neon red, but normal Com black, highlighted with brown. I blinked at what I saw outside the SUV.

It looked like a large, possibly, cargo area with enormous ropes hanging from the ceiling on gigantic hooks, their loops slightly swaying back and forth, while seven or eight other random vehicles sat parked around us with no one in them. The walls were made of some dark blue metal, or steel — the overhead lighting dim so I couldn’t tell exactly — and in the far distance in one corner, at a large, old wooden table, I saw Felix and Aros and…yeah, that was her name for sure…Bindi sitting at it, playing cards, all their hair spelled various Com shades. I swallowed hard, searching my memory for where the fuck we were and how the hell we had gotten here.

But I couldn’t come up with anything.

Not a damn thing.

Panic set in, and I swiftly turned in my seat, glancing out the back window, but I only saw more of the same. “Antonio, what the fuck’s going on?”

He cleared his throat and wiped his brow, never having answered my other questions. “This is a cargo ship. We’re heading for Australia. Outside Sydney, to be exact. That is to be your post right now. All those with power are being dispersed worldwide to lead our forces. I believe war will be officially declared once everyone is situated where they need to be.” He paused. “And no, Bindi doesn’t need to be killed. She saw you use some of your abilities, but she can be trusted, and act as a nutritional source for you.”

I blinked, my heart rate not calming any. “Why don’t I remember any of this?”

His lips pinched, and he glanced away, not answering.

My eyebrows snapped together. Something was seriously wrong. Again, I glanced around my surroundings, but nothing looked familiar except for the individuals I could see and my Vizoac, Bonnie, in the backseat. Glancing down at my clothes didn’t even help because I was wearing a man’s overlarge grey t-shirt I didn’t recognize that read: Live Hard or Die Bored. My eyes narrowed at its hem, which was over my black cargos — those I recognized. All along the bottom of the left side of the shirt was stained dark. Glancing at Antonio, his jaw still clenched and his gaze away from me, I lifted the bottom of the shirt and sniffed at it.

It was blood.

I froze, staring at it. What the fuck had happened?

Mind spiraling, I sniffed at it again, then dabbed at it with my tongue. Wild spice. Dizziness swept over me, but somehow I knew that wild spice was what my blood would taste like, the knowledge there even though I had no fucking clue how it was, that in itself making me nauseous.

I patted my leg where the shirt had been, but I wasn’t injured. Disorientation reigning like a tornado in my mind, I sniffed at the unfamiliar shirt further. Profusely, I scented myself, but also Antonio, which meant he had rubbed up against me multiple times, maybe carrying me on this ship that I didn’t remember boarding…but…there was also a spicier scent deep in the threads, barely lingering. I didn’t know this person’s scent, and my eyes slitted as I focused, trying to remember any details. I sniffed long and hard, Antonio now watching me closely, and I met his gaze as I held in the scent that was barely there…but, dammit, I was still unable to remember whose shirt or whose scent this was.

My gaze darted back and forth between Antonio’s eyes as I lowered it. His face expressed nothing. “You aren’t going to tell me anything?”

He said nothing, his face blank.

My eyebrows rose as I took in the surroundings, the scents, and tried to focus rationally, past my frantic emotions, to analyze my confusion. We sat in silence. It hurt my brain attempting to examine the limited amount of information given, concentration hard as shit to pinpoint, each tiny detail — with my panicky thoughts — trying to derail me. But eventually, I came up with the only possibility given the fact that Mysticals healed too quickly for brain damage.

My gaze met Antonio’s. “Someone wiped my memories.”

Still, his expression gave away nothing as he stayed silent.

“And it wasn’t you because you would be trying harder to fill in the blanks, not to mention I don’t believe you would ever do this to me.” My head cocked. “But still, you’re acting oddly.” I assessed him, remembering how he had tried multiple times to speak, but it had come out mangled. Totally indecipherable. Gradually puzzling it out, I voiced my thoughts. “You can’t tell me, but you know.”

He looked forward. Not one damn thing communicated if I was right or wrong.

But… “I’m right. It’s the only thing that makes sense.” I turned to stare out the windshield and saw Bindi staring at us, watching us intently but, I swear to God, with that same damn expression of nothingness on her face. “Bindi knows, too.” I placed an elbow on the door, chuckling softly, a bit hysterically, with a hand on my forehead as I stared down at the blood on my shirt. “Well, it looks like I put up a fight, anyway.” I fingered the blood, which I had no clue as to how it had gotten there. “What the fuck did I do to deserve a memory wipe?” Another glance at Antonio. “And who the hell is powerful enough to do it that you couldn’t stop it?”

I didn’t expect an answer, and I didn’t get one, but I went silent, staring at nothing straight ahead as I zoned out, going through every memory of King Hall and King Cave I had. After an hour of us sitting in silence, Antonio not making a peep nor falling asleep to the gentle rocking of the ocean we were in, I stated, “It more than likely happened at King Cave. That’s where my memories end. I remember waking in the infirmary, but I don’t know how I was hurt. Before that, you and I were in Vegas searching for my Prodigy, and I found him. But after that…nothing…then I was in the infirmary, and I went back to my room, which I don’t remember too much about, but that’s where the memories end. At King Cave.

“Unless whoever did this wiped my memories after that, which I guess could be a possibility, but still, it’s not likely. King Cave’s where it happened. Where the most powerful Mysticals would have been to do this.” I tapped the window, staring at the glass. “I must have fucked up big time to have this done. Broken a Law, because no magic can be performed inside King Cave that isn’t pure. This was a legal action.” My head fell back against the headrest as I rubbed my forehead — thoughts swirling in anger and panic — and even feeling cold, a literal shiver racking my frame, knowing someone had been in my memories, wiping and pulling whatever they wanted from it, leaving me nothing. “What the fuck did I do?”

When Antonio only continued his silence, frustration built, making my jaw clench and hands fist, and I glared at him. “You are one hell of a powerful Mage. There is no reason for you not to be working on a spell right now to reverse this. I know I wouldn’t have done something heinous enough to be mind raped. I’m not made that way. I’m not evil at heart.” I snorted. “In fact, I’m just a fucking scared woman trying to find my damn way in a life I was thrown into, which I never wanted in the first place, but I’m doing it! And this is how I’m rewarded for doing as I have to? For doing what’s right?” I shoved his arm when he stayed mute, shouting, “Goddamn it, Antonio, don’t just sit there like a statue! Fix this!”

He turned his head away, staring out his window and placing a hand over his mouth.

My breath caught, and my throat started to throb.

What the hell had I done that he wouldn’t help me?

The only man I truly thought of as my dad, and who I thought loved me unconditionally, was turning from me.

Had I been so awful?

My eyes began to burn. “Did I do something you don’t approve of?” Still nothing. I shook my head and wiped a tear that fell, and I pounded on his shoulder and chest, screaming, “Why the hell aren’t you trying to fix this? I know I wouldn’t do something bad enough to deserve this! Don’t you fucking love me anymore?”

His arms were instantly around me even as I continued hitting him, his voice choked. “I love you, Lil. Don’t ever think I don’t. I love you with all my heart.”

Truth.

A sob escaped. “Then fix this.”

Silence.

Nothing except for his arms tightening around me.

I shook my head furiously. “Goddamn you!” I thrust him away hard enough he hit the door. “Goddamn you for letting someone mind rape me! Goddamn you for not trying to fix it! Someone who loves you tries to help. They don’t just fucking sit there. So don’t give me bullshit lies you’ve convinced yourself on because that’s not fucking love, Antonio. Because giving up…is the same thing as not caring enough to give a shit.”

I shoved out of the car, slamming the door behind me, and went to the opposite end of the cargo hold from where my elite guard and Bindi were staring at me. Away from their eyes and other senses.

Just away.

I found a nook in a corner and curled up, choking as my throat burned, letting my confusion and anger overtake me, and sobbed my pain because I was alone in this.

Alone.

Holding an official missive in my hands, I stared not at it, but at my surroundings.

They were what I called ‘home’ now, located just north of Sydney, Australia. I had for the past two weeks, anyway. As a little girl, I would have loved it, I finally decided. I was in a tent of sorts. Like a circus tent, but bedroom-size. The tent itself was white, but there was golden Mage magic on the material, giving it an ethereal glow and making it shimmery and delicate like a fairy tale, but in reality it was only a soundproofing spell Antonio had added when we first arrived so no one could hear our conversations.

AKA: When I ranted at him when he still did nothing to help, or when I screamed in fury when I couldn’t access my memories for the millionth time, or when I cried myself to sleep in frigid loneliness.

Gaze continuing to roam, I glanced to the right of the opening of the tent, which was a tall flap that was currently closed, where there were two tall, plush burgundy chairs and a black couch, a small coffee table in the middle. The chairs appeared inviting and warm, but in reality they were never sat on, and the only use they received was the mileage they collected as I hurled them through the air in my moments of complete insanity. On the other side of the entrance were two large cherry wood dressers with a Mage mirror directly in the middle of them, as if I truly cared what I wore instead of wearing only black leather in which I could move easily and fight…unless it was at night, then I pulled out the old t-shirt I had been wearing when I had first awoken after my memory wipe, and prayed it would help me remember, but always, my prayers were never answered.

The king-size bed I now rested on was next to the dressers, its sheets burgundy with plush pillows, and covered with a leopard print fur bedspread. It was big enough to fit three people comfortably, but only one ever lay on it, the bed always icy and empty, too large for only me. Two cherry wood end tables sat on either side of the bed and held black wrought-iron lamps. The end tables were large enough for portraits of family and friends, but none sat there, for I had no friends. My mom was dead, and the man I considered my dad didn’t care enough to even try to help me, even if he endlessly told me he loved me, and somehow in his twisted, cruel mind it was always the truth. Over the brown grass that lined the foot of the tent’s walls was an oversized black and burgundy plush rug where my only faithful companion lay, my Vizoac, which was sad in itself as I had been reduced to an elderly person’s distraction. But it was how I liked it, if I really liked anything anymore. Well, that, and the silence my solitude afforded me.

I was Queen Ruckler and everyone wanted a piece of me. At all times. Always for their own diplomatic needs, never once asking honestly or earnestly if there was anything they could do for me, only the kiss asses asking that for their own gain, and those individuals I completely tuned out. But oddly, I didn’t mind those I did speak with keeping things strictly professional. I knew they did it because of the wall I had erected between myself and those in power, the individuals I may have similarities with. Because, point blank, I just wanted everyone to stay the fuck back. I had a hard enough time dealing with my own issues, so the last thing I wanted to do was deal with anyone else’s.

I debated going through the small flap at the back of the tent and taking a bath before opening the spelled, sealed letter I held in my hand, so I stared at the flap mutely in my silent tent, seeing if I gave a shit enough to get up and do it. That was how I did most things in my free time. If I actually got up to do it, then I did it, otherwise, I would zone out and try to remember what had been taken from me. My head cocked at the small flap. When we had first arrived in this camp, it had actually surprised me that there were magically enchanted bathrooms inside the tents, but now I just wondered where all of the waste disappeared to, the ‘enchantment’ gone for me.

When I didn’t get up, I blinked and glanced down at the envelope I held. Maybe I should open it now. It looked vaguely important. When it came to work, I tried to pay attention — anything to keep my mind off what I inevitably came back to after I entered my ‘home’ in the wee hours of the morning. I didn’t sleep much, getting up before dawn and heading back out to do my duty as Queen Ruckler…because, really, what else was there for me to do?

So I opened it.

Read it.

Didn’t feel much of anything as I stood and patted my leg for Bonnie to follow me outside, and she did shadow dutifully as I walked through the camp filled with hundreds of white enchanted tents lined close together, a few wooden chairs and rockers sitting outside their openings on the dead grass. As I moved, I gazed up at the golden bubble that domed the entire encampment. It was transparent and let in the elements, the moon and stars shining brightly through, but Antonio had told me no Com could pass, and neither could any weapons aimed at us, and it masked our whereabouts. It was something special one of the Mages had concocted, making me bet that Mage had also taken the idea from King Cave’s protection, since it resembled it.

Arriving at the lone black tent of the camp — headquarters — Bonnie and I entered. To the right were black leather couches all aimed at the many flat screen TVs magically suspended in midair, all focused on news channels that covered the broadcasts of the world’s major cities. To the left was a wooden oval table and a fridge, sink, and cabinets. Directly in front of us was a long wall of black tent material with a sheer curtain flap for an opening in the center. The entire tent’s material was also sparkling with Mage privacy magic, so it was loud when I entered, since the place was full of Elders and commanding Mysticals — those that I, and the Elders, had hand-selected for our Commanders — on the couches or sitting around the table eating, waiting for the inescapable.

They went mute only a moment later, seeing me enter and stand in place. I nodded my head toward the back of the tent and moved, without asking them to follow, toward the black sheer tent flap, brushing past it to the larger section of the headquarters, which housed the computers and technologically skilled Mysticals. I continued walking, everyone following me silently and continuing the journey with me to the back of the tent where another black wall of tent material separated the large tent in its final, third piece. Mage magic protected this room entirely, the flap I passed under solid, instead of sheer.

I went to the head of the large black marble table, which was identical to the one in King Cave’s main conference room, and continued standing while the others filed into the room around the conference table. When the flap closed, the last Elder or Commander having entered, I cleared my throat in the silence and reopened the missive in my hands, reading aloud its contents word for word. “Queen Lily Ruckler, negotiations have ceased with the Commoner leaders of the world. The time for attempting peace is over. There is no other viable option. Mystical-Commoner World War II has been officially declared. Strike now. My heartfelt regrets, Elder Richard Harcourt.” I lowered the missive while Bonnie jumped onto the table, sitting regally but watching everyone warily in front of where I stood, and I stated, “We’re officially at war. I want to strike Sydney’s defenses within the hour, before they realize what’s happening.” My dead gaze landed on Antonio. I blinked, and then moved on to every gentleman and lady in the room, letting my power touch each of them so that no one would dare argue with me. “I will lead the attack alongside Elder Farrar.”

I did.

I relished it, my rage finally finding a useful outlet.

Surprise, surprise, I fucking finally found something I excelled at.

Bloodshed.