She squealed with surprise when Max bent down and picked her up, practically sitting her on his shoulder. She daintily crossed her ankles and held on for dear life as she scanned the crowd. “There!
She’s heading into the garden. Aw, son of a bitch.”
“What?” Max asked, holding her steady with little effort.
“Simon’s just been waylaid by Belinda. By the way, she so picked the right costume.”
“Witch?”
“Catwoman. From the movie.”
“Ah, sexy yet lame.” Max winced when Emma tweaked his ear. “I’ll rescue Simon, you find Becky.” He set her down gently, careful to make sure her skirt didn’t fly up, up and away. With a quick kiss and a nod at Adrian, Max went after Simon.
Emma found moving through the crowd without Max at her side more difficult. It seemed like people went out of their way to get in her way. “Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me.” Emma tried to be polite as
she shimmied around more than one person. When she reached a particularly large knot of people, she tried the polite route, though by this time she was becoming seriously irritated. She tapped the broad shoulder of a vampire standing in front of her. “Excuse me, let me pass, please.”
The vampire ignored her, laughing with his companions.
“Excuse me, please, I need to get into the garden.”
The vampire continued to ignore her.
“Will you please excuse me?” Emma practically shouted.
The vampire turned, frowned down at her, and turned back to his companions with a shrug and a laugh.
Emma lost it. Her temper, frayed by the tension in Max and the subtle snubs to herself, snapped. Emma could feel a strange power flowing through her, tied to yet separate from the Puma, and without thought she used it.
Her eyes narrowed on the group in front of her. The tone of command was the same one Max had used on her several times, the same one she was able to (almost) ignore. Power flowed out of her, surrounding her till she nearly glowed with it.
“Move out of my way.”
The crowd behind them grew quiet as the men stopped laughing. The men in front of her visibly cringed and got out of her way, their heads bowing down, their shoulders hunching against Emma’s anger. Using her power like the prow of a ship, Emma forged her way through the rest of the crowd, her head held high as she stepped into the garden.
With a deep breath, Emma sucked that power back into her body. It settled in, warm and cozy, purring but ready to pounce. The Puma, she sensed, was pleased with her display of dominance.
The garden was well lit, except in strategically placed spots where pools of darkness prevailed. Emma was pretty sure what went on in those spots, and hoped her nose would help her keep out of other people’s business. Sniffing cautiously, she tried to scent Becky.
The sharp tang of coppery blood filled her senses, mixed with Becky’s earthy scent. Emma stepped into the garden and made a beeline for the smell. Halfway there, she heard Becky scream.
Emma began to run.
Max finally pried Belinda off Simon by ordering her off. With a coy shrug, the woman finally let go, but not before giving both men a peek at what they were walking away from.
“Ugh.” Simon shuddered. “You’d think she’d get the hint. ‘Get off me, get off me, what the hell are you doing, get off me’ just didn’t seem to get through to her.”
Max snickered. Simon was brushing at his shirt as if he could brush Belinda’s scent off of him. “Becky seems to have headed into the garden. Emma went to find her.”
“In this crowd?” Simon stopped brushing himself and straightened his hat. “I heard a couple of the young bloods claim they were going to ‘test’ Emma.”
Max growled. “How?”
“The usual. Forcing her to use her powers. She’s small enough that simply not getting out of her way will do it.”
Max’s smile was feral. “In that case, they’re in for a surprise.”
“Never doubted it.”
The two men waited until they felt the burst of power flowing from a point not far from the garden doors.
It was strong enough to nearly have Max bowing down before it. Simon actually grimaced before pulling himself upright by force of will alone. Emma had finally gotten fed up and was forcing her way through the crowd, her strength clearly a match for, if not slightly greater than, Max’s. Max and Simon managed to find spots where they could watch her regal exit from the ballroom. Her head moved neither left nor right; her eyes were pure molten gold. She flowed towards the garden doors, her stride sleek and sultry, commanding the attention of all around her. There was more than one shocked face in the crowd as Emma, her power swirling around her like a cape, stepped out of the double doors and into the Friedelinde’s garden, every inch the Curana Max had claimed her to be.
“My God, she is so fucking hot.” Max grinned as he watched his pissed-off mate saunter out into the night, the sexy sway of her hips riveting to more than one pair of male eyes. He was unsurprised at how the Pumas around her practically scraped the floor in her wake.
“Yeah. Good for you. Go home soon, fuck like bunnies, make little Alphas for Uncle Simon and Aunt Becky to play with. Speaking of which, can we go get my woman now?” Simon grumbled, already beginning to push through the crowd.
Max merely grinned, too pleased with and proud of Emma to call Simon to task. He moved through the crowd on Simon’s heels, almost barreling into him when the man stopped. “Simon?”
Simon looked over his shoulder at Max, confusion and fear mingling in his expression. “I smell blood.”
Max sniffed. There, on the evening breeze, was the tang of blood mixed with Becky, Emma…and Livia?
Simon’s eyes went gold as his claws ripped through the leather swordsman’s gloves. “Becky’s bleeding.” He took off into the night, following the blood trail of his mate.
“Fuck.” Max chased after his friend, knowing that if Livia had hurt Becky it would take a miracle to keep Simon from killing her.
Emma took in the scene before her, trying not to shudder. Livia had Becky pinned beneath her, her claws going for Becky’s soft stomach, her teeth at Becky’s throat. Becky stared at Emma, obviously terrified, bleeding from numerous small cuts inflicted by Livia’s claws, and one bad-looking bite wound on her left shoulder. Her unsheathed sword was just beyond her reach, probably knocked out of her hand when Livia pounced. Her hat had fallen off during the scuffle as well, landing brim up next to a