Amazon Queen by Lori Devoti Read Free Book Online Page A

least want to hear my version of events.
    Without looking at the self-appointed heroes again, I pointed my body toward the main road. Somewhere in the short trip back to the Jeep, my back pain changed from a steady throb to intermittent shrieks—shorter and more spaced out, but breathtakingly severe.
    At least this new pain made me forget my leg completely. It didn’t, however, make me forget Thea or stop thinking about what I would do after hiding the Jeep.
    Not that I needed to worry about hiding the Jeep.
    When I returned to where I had left it, it was gone.
    I’d disappeared into the woods just as the fire truck rumbled down the road. The pothole had slowed the massive vehicle some. I figured by the time they got to the son’s house, it would be nothing but ash.
    Which suited me fine. I didn’t know what the story on the guns was, but I wanted the sons for myself. I didn’t want them being locked up in some human prison before I could get to them.
    It took me an hour to get back to camp on foot. If I’d been whole, I could have made it in a quarter of the time. I guessed it took the son in his wolverine form even less than that.
    I approached from behind the barn; the horses were out, but there was no sign of any Amazons. I was glad for the quiet, glad I didn’t have to face any of them just yet. The past twenty-four hours had taken a toll on me. I needed to at least look strong when I gathered them together and announced Thea was missing. I hadn’t worked out yet what had happened to the Jeep. My guess was the sons had seen us arrive and stolen it.
    A mare approached and nuzzled my neck. I wrapped my fingers in her mane and used her for support.
    My face against hers, I inhaled. The sun-heated scent of her skin was calming. Closing my eyes, I pulled on her strength, pulled on the strength of my
givnomai
too. Then I straightened my back, swallowed my physical pain, and strode out of the paddock.
    The gravel crunched as my feet came to a halt.
    Sitting in a line next to the five or so other Amazon vehicles was the Jeep.
    It hadn’t driven here on its own. And I didn’t think the sons had delivered it to us.
    Our new high priestess had deserted me, left me wounded and alone at the cabin.
    My temper soared. All thoughts of avoiding a confrontation with her fled.
    I tromped toward the house, not sure what I was going to say or do once I reached it, once I reached Thea.
    But the building was empty. The grounds were empty.
    I walked back through the house, this time armed with my staff. I checked each room carefully, looking for some sign there had been a battle, but everything looked to be in place.
    Back in the yard, I considered my options. The Amazons had to be near. All the vehicles were present, and all the horses were too.
    A houseful of Amazons didn’t just disappear, not without a struggle, one that would be impossible to hide. Which meant they were nearby, just not within sight.
    I entered the woods.
    It was early evening now. The sun wasn’t as strong as it had been during my last trip to the clearing, but the air felt thicker, humid and cloying.
    Ignoring the sweat that instantly beaded on my upper lip, I positioned my staff as I had the last time, perpendicular, so I could walk the path more easily. The late afternoon rain had softened the ground; it gave under my feet, cushioned each step, and made the pain in my back less obvious. I murmured a thanks to Artemis for blessing me with the small gift.
    As I approached the obelisk, I heard voices. Hidden behind a tree, I paused and listened. I recognized Thea’s voice first, then humming or chanting. With a frown, I peered out. The occupants of the camp were seated in a full circle, not the traditional partial circle or crescent we normally used when worshipping.
    Thea stood near the obelisk; in her hands was another bowl. She crushed some kind of leaf over it, letting the crushed pieces fall in, then passed it around. As each Amazon took the vessel, she