Tattered Thorns Read online

  TATTERED THORNS

  A Night Queen Novel, Book 1

  YASMINE GALENORN

  A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication

  Published by Yasmine Galenorn

  PO Box 2037, Kirkland WA 98083-2037

  TATTERED THORNS

  A Night Queen Novel

  Copyright © 2022 by Yasmine Galenorn

  First Electronic Printing: 2022 Nightqueen Enterprises LLC

  First Print Edition: 2022 Nightqueen Enterprises

  Cover Art & Design: Ravven

  Art Copyright: Yasmine Galenorn

  Editor: Elizabeth Flynn

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any format, be it print or electronic or audio, without permission. Please prevent piracy by purchasing only authorized versions of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, or places is entirely coincidental and not to be construed as representative or an endorsement of any living/ existing group, person, place, or business.

  A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication

  Published in the United States of America

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  Welcome to Tattered Thorns

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Cast of Characters

  Playlist

  Biography

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Welcome to the world of Lyrical, the Night Queen.

  Thanks to my usual crew: Samwise, my husband, Andria and Jennifer—without their help, I’d be swamped. To the women who have helped me find my way in indie, you’re all great, and thank you to everyone. To Kate Danley in particular, for running our author sprints that have helped me regain my focus in this current pandemic. To my wonderful cover artist, Ravven, for the beautiful work she’s done.

  Also, my love to my furbles, who keep me happy. My most reverent devotion to Mielikki, Tapio, Ukko, Rauni, and Brighid, my spiritual guardians and guides. My love and reverence to Herne, and Cernunnos, and to the Fae, who still rule the wild places of this world. And a nod to the Wild Hunt, which runs deep in my magick, as well as in my fiction.

  You can find me through my website at Galenorn.com and be sure to sign up for my newsletter to keep updated on all my latest releases! You can find my advice on writing, discussions about the books, and general ramblings on my YouTube channel. If you liked this book, I’d be grateful if you’d leave a review—it helps more than you can think.

  Brightest Blessings,

  ~The Painted Panther~

  ~Yasmine Galenorn~

  WELCOME TO TATTERED THORNS

  I’m Lyrical, and I was born to the Leannan Sidhe. But then, the King of the Kelpies kidnapped me, and all hell broke loose. My mother begged Morgana, goddess of the Sea and the Fae, to save me. But she didn’t specify that she wanted me back home. So she sent me to work for the Wild Hunt, and life suddenly becomes a rollercoaster as the dragons lose their immortality and all hell breaks loose.

  Reading Order for the Night Queen Series:

  Book 1: Tattered Thorns

  Book 2: Shattered Spells (forthcoming)

  CHAPTER ONE

  The coyote shifters attacked my front door first. Luckily, I was in the kitchen when I heard the lock rattling. Fuck—I could smell them from where I was. Wet coyotes smell worse than wet dogs, and while I had full reason to think they were back in their human shapes, I knew that smell. I never had to encounter a pungent odor more than once to remember it. And this… This odor I remembered.

  I glanced around, trying to figure out what to do. The house I was renting was in a bad neighborhood, and with that came flimsy locks. If I was facing just one of them, I could deal. But they’d brought all their homies—that much was apparent by the noise on the other side of the door—and meant that it was going to be that much harder to put them out of my misery. The fact that they were the front pushers for a major drug cartel hadn’t escaped me.

  Raising my foot to a half–pulled out drawer full of silverware, I reached behind the slit in the right leg of my jeans and flipped open the snap that was holding the peace binding on the sheath. As I withdrew Harmony—my blade—I plastered on a grim smile. I named my blade Harmony because she was often the only thing that managed to restore harmony to my life. Thirteen inches of cold steel, she had a black bog oak hilt and the blade itself was etched with an incantation using the Celtic Ogham. I bite for blood, it said.

  The coyote shifters were still fiddling with the door, to my relief. They weren’t stupid, but when they were in coyote form and they formed a pack, it seemed that their IQs went down by about a third. Given they were hopped up on some sort of upper, it lowered the bar even more.

  I snuck around the counter, wondering how many I could take down if they broke through before I managed to get out the back door. The only other way out of this joint was through the master bedroom. It led to the back yard, where I could climb over a fence and be off and down the street before they realized I had escaped.

  I grabbed my purse as I stood up, and slung it over my shoulder. I was wearing stiletto boots, but I could run in them and that was all that mattered. I made sure my keys were in my purse and hurried into the bedroom. I grabbed the leather jacket that I had tossed across the bed and shrugged it on. Then, turning toward the sliding glass doors, I was about to grab the handle when I saw a shadow moving outside behind one of the large evergreen bushes. A man and a woman jumped out, slamming against the glass of the door. I took one look at the yellow glow in their eyes and bounded over the bed, back toward the door. I slammed the door behind me even as I heard breaking glass.

  Oh hell, what the fuck do I do now? I dashed into the bathroom. It was the only other room in the house that locked from the inside and that had a window. I slammed the door closed, pushing the lock, then leaped up on the counter, my anxiety rising. The window was large enough for me to scramble out, but it was also frosted and I couldn’t see for sure if anybody was out there. I hesitated, but the next moment I heard the front door crash open and I knew it was now or never. I shoved the window open and punched out the screen. I took a quick look right and left but couldn’t see anybody, thank gods, so I tossed my pack and purse out, then poised with my boots on the ledge of the window as I balanced, making sure my dagger wouldn’t stab me as I leapt to the ground.

  I had barely landed and scooped up my purse and pack when a low laugh came from my right, from behind a large rhododendron. One of the coyote shifters—I thought his name was Jim—jumped out to block my path.

  “Lyrical, where you going so fast?” He was tall, lanky, and had bright coppery hair that hung in greasy strands. He was also carrying a thick iron pipe and was slapping it against his other hand as his eyes glittered.

  I eyed the space between him and the sidewalk. I was too close to him—unless I was able to knock the pipe out of his hands, but even from this distance, I could feel the iron’s energy. It made me tingle, and in a very bad way.

  My knees felt weak and I realized I was hungry. There was only one way out, but I’d have to be fast. I dropped my pack and purse. “Why don’t you put down that pipe?” I said, catching his gaze and holding it as
I modulated my voice to become lower, throatier. The next moment, I could feel the ache rising, overtaking the fear. I began to walk toward him.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, pausing the steady tattoo of the pipe against his hand. “What…” He stumbled over his words, unable to break away from my gaze.

  Coyote shifters were easy if you could pick them off from the pack. And right now, there was no chance he was going to call for his packmates. I reached out, running my fingers over his cheeks, and he let out a low moan.

  “You really don’t want to hurt me. Put down the pipe, babe.” I winked at him, running my tongue over my lips.

  “No, I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated, dropping the pipe.

  “You want to kiss me, don’t you? Long and hard, probably as long and hard as your dick.” I reached up to put my hands on his shoulders and slowly pushed. He folded to his knees in front of me. I glanced around. Nobody else had noticed us in the tangle of foliage that filled the yard.

  “Kiss…me…please.” He was breathing hard and I leaned down, lightly touching my lips to his. I could feel the brush of my skin against his, and then the rush of his sweet breath. It was filled with chi—with energy—and I needed that energy. I began to kiss him, gently at first, then began to draw out his life force with my breath, streaming it into my body. As the energy flooded my veins, I could feel it draining away from him. I ignored the information that threatened to overflood my senses—facts and figures and visions from his life. Instead, I focused on draining him, on sucking out every last gasp of breath, and my excitement grew.

  The rush began to spiral through me as I grew stronger. I felt high, higher than any trip from the strongest drug. As the shifter realized I was draining him dry, he began to struggle. I laughed, toying with him, every spark of my being quivering. I pressed harder on his shoulders and he couldn’t break away.

  “This is so good, baby. Be nice and I’ll end your life on a high instead of pain,” I whispered. Feeding my hunger was better than sex, better than the strongest orgasm, as I met his breath and drew it into my lungs. The thrill warmed me like the best fuck in the world, and then—as he began to fade—I slammed back into my body, coming so hard that I almost screamed.

  As I stumbled back from his corpse I felt so strong I could have moved a mountain. I grabbed up my pack and purse and crept out of the bushes but I had miscalculated and found myself in a semi-circle of coyote shifters. As they moved in, each carrying at least one weapon, I turned back to the bathroom window and, with one leap, sprang through the air, diving headfirst through the open window, coming up into a crouch. Behind me, I heard the shifters scramble.

  “Oh, shit,” I muttered. “I’m in trouble.” Dagger in hand, I straightened and prepared to face the music.

  As I kicked the bathroom door open, hoping to slam it down on anybody who might be right outside, I heard a scuffle out at the front door before two shifters came toward me, one on either side. I went into defense mode, strengthened by the extra chi I had absorbed.

  One of them was carrying a sword, the other a dagger. I gauged the distance between the one to my right—with the dagger—and then sprang into a front flip, stretching out to use his shoulders as a platform. He was so startled he didn’t even try to stab me as I swung over his head. As I cleared him, I gave another push, this one against his back, then went into a tuck and roll. He lurched forward as his companion brought his sword up and I heard a bloodcurdling scream behind me.

  I didn’t stop to look, just sped into a run as I entered the living room. But once there, I stopped short. The coyote shifters were there, yes, but so were a couple people I didn’t recognize who…were whaling away on my enemies. The coyote shifters were fighting back, but they were looking a lot less confident. Before I could take off , one of them—a tall Amazon of a woman with dark skin—grabbed me by the arm and muscled me out the front door. The tall, lean dark-haired man who was with her followed, and before I knew what was happening, he held out his hand and blew a powder in my face. I struggled to get free but then everything went hazy as the ground disappeared and I fell into a dark hole.

  When I woke up, I was lying on a sofa, and not in my house. I groaned—my head was pounding, as if I had a hangover. Groggy, I rolled up to a sitting position. I was fully dressed, but my dagger and my purse were gone.

  “Well, I see you’re awake.” A woman, older with silver hair and wearing a linen pantsuit, came into view. She held out a mug. Steam was wafting off it. “This will clear your head.”

  Suspicious, I stared at it, then her. “How do I know it’s not poison?”

  She shrugged, then lifted the mug to her lips and drank. Wiping the rim with a paper towel, she held it out again. I reached for it, still suspicious. But if there was poison, that big of a swig would kill her too. It had a pungent odor but I took a sip from it. The flavor surprised me. It tasted like honey and lemon, but there was something else behind it. As soon as I started to drink it, my headache began to lift along with the fog.

  I looked around, handing her back the mug. “Thank you—it works. Where am I?”

  “You’re at the Wild Hunt Agency. My name’s Talia.” She settled down beside me. “We need to have a long talk.”

  Wild Hunt…I knew the name. I’d heard it before but I couldn’t quite place it. “Why did you bring me here?”

  “It was either that or let you die at the hands of those coyote shifters.” Talia laughed. “And Morgana would have our hides if we let them eat you alive.”

  I straightened up. “You know Morgana?” The goddess had saved me when I was at a do-or-die moment in my life. I owed her more than my life—I owed her my sanity.

  Talia nodded. “Very well, actually. She sent us out to save you. Girl, you really dug yourself into a hole there with those shifters.” She paused as the front door opened and a tall man strode in. I recognized him—he was the one who had showed up at my house and had been battling the coyote shifters. He smelled suspiciously like the coyote shifters but with something else added in. Power. He smelled like power.

  I bristled as my inner alarm rang. This man was dangerous, and seductive. He reeked of power and sex.

  “So you’re awake,” he said, glancing at me. “I’m Yutani.” Then, turning to Talia, he said, “Herne and Ember are on the way. Morgana will be with them.”

  I watched the pair talk. They had a strong familiarity with each other—they obviously knew one another, and from the emotions I could tap into, they were good friends. If there was one thing I had learned over the past few years, it was to keep my mouth shut and observe. It had served me well.

  Yutani glanced at me. “If you need to freshen up, there’s a bathroom down the hall. Don’t even think of trying to escape, though. Morgana asked that you stay right here, and we’re not about to piss her off.” He handed me my purse and my pack but I had the feeling they had been rifled, probably for weapons.

  I nodded. Escaping from coyote shifters was one thing, but running off when a goddess wanted to see me—even I knew better than that. I visited the restroom and tidied myself up. I brushed my hair and touched up my lipstick.

  Staring at myself in the mirror, I whispered, “That’s about as good as it’s going to get right now.” I looked tired and there were bruises on my forehead and arms from the fight. My corset was spattered with blood—not mine—and so were my jeans.

  My dagger! I reached down to check my boot, but the sheath was empty. Frowning, I looked in my purse. No blade there, either.

  “If they stole Harmony from me…” I muttered, striding back out to the dining area where Yutani and Talia were sitting at the table. “Hey, did either of you take my dagger? That blade is special—”

  “Hold your horses,” Yutani said. “Talia has it. We put it away for safekeeping, along with the other weapons we found in your pack.” He nodded to Talia, who walked over to her desk in the living room and retrieved my blade from a curio cabinet.

  “Here it is, s
afe and sound,” she said, handing it to me.

  I grabbed it from her, checking to make sure it wasn’t nicked or bent. But Harmony looked as beautiful as ever, and I gently stroked the hilt and then slid her back into her sheath.

  “I’m sorry to snap,” I said. “That blade’s very important to me. My mother gave it to me a long time ago.”

  “Not a problem,” Talia said with a wry grin. “So, we might as well tell you that we know who you are. Morgana told us about you when she first found you.”

  I stared at them. “How much did she tell you?” That they knew who I was made me uneasy. I didn’t like people knowing who I was.

  “Not much. Just that she’d rescued one of the Leannan Sidhe from a pod of Kelpies and brought her back to Seattle. She contacted us this morning and asked us to rescue you from those coyote shifters,” she added.

  Yutani cleared his throat. “Speaking of… I might as well tell you because I’m pretty sure you can figure it out—I’m a coyote shifter as well, but I’m not aligned with that Pack. What did you do to piss them off, anyway?”

  Well, at least that was a relief, though I was surprised he didn’t seem angry. “I thought all dog shifters stuck together,” I said, side-eyeing him.

  He bristled. “For one thing, wolves, coyotes, and dogs are far from the same—”

  “Down, boy,” Talia said, holding out her hand. “She’s just trying to get a rise out of you.” She glanced at me, shaking her head. “Best not to poke the bear. Or the son of the Great Coyote, for that matter.”