Chiyoko staggered as if struck. She half-collapsed onto her throne, her face angry and confused. You cannot mean to—

Lopaka twisted her head fast as a snake and looked at Chiyoko. If thoughts passed between them, I wasn’t allowed to hear them. But while the small Japanese queen paled, she did not back down, in fact she rose to her feet, her expression defiant.

Celia Kalino Graves is a child of my blood, if not of my body. I accept her as I accepted her ancestor, my brother Kalino. Lopaka’s voice was utterly calm.

No! A raven-haired beauty rose from the throne two seats down from Chiyoko, her blue-green eyes flashing. She is not a royal. Where is her prophet? Her warrior guard?

She has them. Adriana’s voice was unmistakable in my mind. Clear as a bell and just as clearly unhappy. When her previous prophet was murdered, within a day another appeared. And the warrior wolf followed her to the alley where she was attacked and killed the monsters that harmed her. She even has two attendant spirits . . . one the spirit of her former prophet. Even after death, her guards are faithful to her.

“I cannot believe you would support your mother in elevating a rival to the line of succession!” Chiyoko was so shocked she spoke the words aloud as well as inside my head.

Truth is truth. Adriana was calm.

It was hard to get a mental word in edgewise when I had to struggle so much to even get a word to appear in my own mind. I’m not a rival for anyone’s throne.

Well, that certainly got everyone’s attention. Everyone but Lopaka was staring at me, most literally openmouthed with shock. Lopaka’s gray eyes were sparkling merrily and those perfect lips twitched just a little, as if she was having a difficult time keeping a serious expression.

You would refuse the throne? Chiyoko’s voice was barely a whisper in my head.

I couldn’t help but laugh. It startled a parrot in the tree overhead. I spoke out loud simply because my brain was starting to hurt from all the thinking. “I’m no ruler. I’d only be kidding myself to think I was. I’ve always been human. I don’t know your people or your customs. So, yes, if someone was actually foolish enough to offer, I’d refuse the throne. But it shouldn’t come up. You have other options.” I gestured toward Adriana and Ren. They were the only ones I knew. There might be others. But I figured either of them would be a better choice for queen than me. They’d almost have to be. Hell, Bruno or Creede would be a better queen than me. They had the magic and the telepathy. I had fangs and gulls.

“You have heard it from her own lips,” Lopaka said smugly, also out loud, which caused more than a few shocked glances between the others. “She has shown wisdom and prudence and has honored our customs to the best of our ability.” She held up the knife. “She came here as soon as she was made aware I was trying to reach her.” The looks she gave her daughter and Ren said that people would be paying dearly for that particular oversight. Lopaka finished by speaking into my mind. She stepped down from the dais, put a hand on my shoulder, and turned back toward the other queens. Her hand was warm and gentle and felt remarkably like Gran’s. I say that she has earned the right to live. Do any dare gainsay it?

There were some grim looks from the women seated on the other thrones. Chiyoko looked positively murderous. Still, she gathered her skirts around her and sat fussily back onto her seat. The dark-haired beauty moved more slowly. But eventually she, too, sat down.

Very well. Lopaka gestured to Hiwahiwa. Have the servants prepared the feast?

Yes, Your Majesty.

Excuse me, Mother. With all respect. Adriana bowed very, very low. I guessed she knew that Lopaka wasn’t going to be happy to hear about the duel. Especially not right after she’d given me the siren equivalent of the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval.

What is it . . . dear? Just the slightest emphasis on the last word, the tiniest hint of annoyance.

Princess Celia and I have a matter of honor to attend to.

Nothing serious, I hope. Lopaka’s tone said that it had better not be.

Adriana straightened, her eyes flashing a little in defiance. We had a . . . contretemps . . . the night we met. We have agreed to a duel. Since she is apparently a siren, it cannot be to the death. Adriana didn’t bother to hide her disappointment about that. I’d thought her quarrel with me might be resolved by the whole refusing-the-throne thing. Apparently I’d been wrong. Maybe she just flat disliked me. Someone who dislikes me? Surely not.

You are a princess, Adriana. Queen Lopaka’s voice was stern. Princesses do not duel to the death, regardless of whether both combatants are sirens.

I have no prophet. I have no guard. I will never rule. My title is an empty one. The bitterness in Adriana’s voice cut like shards of glass.

Shit. Well, didn’t that just suck. For her. But for me, too. Through no fault of my own, I had what she didn’t. To someone as proud as she was, that was just unforgivable.

Empty or not, you are not allowed a duel to the death. To clear victory or first blood only. Lopaka gave me a look that let me know as clearly as any words that I’d better watch myself. If I hurt her baby, all those warm fuzzies from a few minutes ago would evaporate into thin air.

Great. Didn’t this just suck moss-covered pond rocks.

To clear victory then. Adriana turned to me. Agreed?

Like I had a lot of choice. And like I knew what that even meant in this culture. Fine with me. Do we get to use weapons, or is this hand-to-hand?

Hand-to-hand would be better. Less chance of accidentally going too far. Although even that would be tricky. I have vampire speed and increased strength. I hadn’t worked out hard or tried to spar since the bite, so I wasn’t exactly sure how careful I’d need to be. Sirens are immortal beings, but you can hurt them. Amputated limbs don’t grow back and brain damage and severed spines don’t heal any better than they would for a human. Then again, I’d never actually seen a siren fight. It might be that I was outclassed. I could be in for a serious butt whipping.

Adriana’s one big advantage was jealousy. Dr. Marloe had said that jealousy works like a magical poison. I wasn’t jealous of Adriana. Yeah, she was prettier and a princess, but she was so screwed up. I mean, Lord knows I have issues with my mother, but Adriana didn’t seem to be doing all that much better with the queen. Adriana envied me for some bizarre reason. Envy is a form of jealousy. Knowing my luck, her weapons would be poisoned for me.

Hand-to-hand. Adriana paused. I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong end of the weapon that matches the one you gave my mother. Now how had she’d known about that? Telepathy, I suppose. One scratch might kill me. Or not. I can’t be sure.

I was a little surprised. A moment ago she’d been more than ready to risk dying. Now she wasn’t? Not that I was sorry, but what the hell?

You are not who and what I thought you were. Adriana’s voice held clear puzzlement. Honor must be served, but I am no longer certain your death would be a good thing for me or my family.

Ah, so she’d been that sure of winning. She must be very good to be that cocky. Cool. Since this was the equivalent of a sparring match, it could be fun. I do love a challenge.

In front of the dais, people rearranged themselves into a loose circle about twenty feet in diameter. The queens remained on their thrones. Since the thrones were on a higher level than that of the fighting area, they’d be able to see well enough.

I stripped off my jacket, wondering what I should do with it. I didn’t want to leave it lying around where anybody could get at it. Most people are honest. But it only takes one who isn’t. I already suspected that Ren had sticky fingers. I didn’t want to lose either my weapons or the jacket itself.

I was saved by Queen Lopaka yet again. At her gesture, Hiwahiwa stepped forward, taking my jacket and then standing before me, waiting expectantly.

For what? I looked around and saw Adriana standing nude in the center of the fighting ring.

Oh no. I’m not good at casual nudity. I looked at Queen Lopaka. “Is there some big ceremonial reason we have to fight nude? I mean—” I pointed at the rock-strewn sand. “There are places I really don’t want to get sand embedded.”

She fought not to laugh. The machinations a person’s face goes through when trying to stifle an involuntary reflex are actually pretty interesting to watch. Finally she spoke and her words held all the laughter her well-schooled features didn’t. “Nudity guarantees there are no weapons or charms secreted that could injure the other or protect one from the other. We have fought nude for millennia. However, I can accept this is a different age and that you are not familiar with our customs. I will permit enough clothing for modesty, but no more.”

So, while everybody watched, I stripped down to my undies. I’d sort of cheated when I put on the lavalava to begin with; I’d just tucked down the straps of my bra. Fine. I’m a prude. But even though I was wearing my panties and bra, I was seriously uncomfortable. Adriana being nude was going to change my fighting style. There was something about throwing a punch at a breast that wasn’t the same as punching a shirt. Weird but true.

Pretending a poise I didn’t actually feel, I made myself walk casually through the path the crowd made for me until I reached the center of the ring.

I don’t know what I expected: maybe one of those formal bows that start a martial-arts match, maybe somebody shouting, “Go!” I wasn’t expecting Adriana to launch a high kick at my face with no warning whatsoever.

She was good and she was fast. Whoever had trained her knew what they were doing. I hadn’t realized that sirens were on par in speed with vampires. If I’d still been a vanilla human, that kick would have laid me out flat, maybe even broken my neck.

But I’m not fully human, not anymore. I saw the blow coming and was able to duck, twist, and grab her ankle. Using her foot as a handle, I continued my turn, pulling her off her anchoring foot and flinging her to the rocky ground with a heavy thud. It had to hurt. Hell, it was painful to hear. But she rolled and stood, blood oozing from scrapes where her skin had been torn off by the coarse rock. Ouch.