Tea before Dying

by Vered Ehsani

  “Stay away from us,” I hissed, barely able to restrain the urge to jab a finger against his chest or, better yet, a knife. “You’ve done enough to hurt my family. Go back to London where you belong with the other monsters.”

  Prof. Runal shifted his yellow gaze to me. “What a precious baby, very precious indeed,” he murmured.

  Swallowing against the constriction in my throat, I clenched my hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “Leave my niece alone,” I ordered.

  The smile faded from his countenance as he studied me. Nodding a couple of times, he turned to go but paused to glance at me. No, I realized, not at me; his gaze was lower, at my midsection. Clearing his throat, he said, “I wasn’t referring to your niece.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  AS PROF. RUNAL dropped those words on me like a bomb and walked away, the wolf energy in my skeletal metal hand surged. The silent growl reverberated through me, causing my lips to twist into a snarl.

  Before I could fling my wolf at the departing werewolf, a hand descended on my shoulder. The voice of reason in the form of my brother Tiberius whispered in my ear, “Leave it. You’ve already attracted too much attention.”

  Indeed, I had. My confrontation had not gone unnoticed, particularly since I was in fact growling softly, and my eyes were glowing werewolf yellow. Of all people, Mrs. Patel and Mrs. Bent stood nearby, staring at me, mouths gaping as their human minds attempted to make sense of what they were observing. Tiberius stepped in front of me to shield me from further scrutiny.

  Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply, calling to mind Koki’s meditation lessons. My agitation retreated until I felt myself in enough control to engage with society without snarling, growling or demonstrating any other canine behavior.

  “Tiberius,” I whispered.

  “Shh,” he said and led me away from the heart of the party and into a quiet corner at the edge of the formal part of the garden.

  Concealed within the shadows of a hedge, I blurted out, “He knows. He knows about Grace and… And about…”

  I couldn’t continue as I was quivering so hard. My hands involuntarily drifted to my midsection, covering it as if to protect the precious gift within. That was explanation enough for Tiberius.

  “It was only a matter of time,” he murmured, rubbing my arms until they ceased shaking. “You will soon show your condition, and I doubt you will tolerate being confined at home.”

  I snorted. “You’re quite right on that matter. After all, we’re not in London anymore, and I have a shop to run.”

  “Exactly. So we will have to be vigilant, but I can’t imagine he would dare try anything against you. Not with all of us here to protect you and the babies.”

  Hugging myself, my fingers digging into my shoulders, I gazed up into his tea-brown eyes, letting their warmth reassure me if only for a moment. “But you’re thinking of leaving us,” I said, choking on the words. Wiping angrily under my eyes, I flung the tears to the ground, studying the spot where I imagined they’d fallen.

  “Beatrice, how could I leave you, my sister, my heart?” Tiberius said, taking my hands in his. “How could I separate my wife from her beloved cousin? Or my daughter from her unborn cousin?” Releasing my hands, he reached into the pocket of his black dinner jacket and fished out a cigarette. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Besides, Lilly would never agree to live in Delhi. And who am I to argue?”

  Relief caused me to sag against the hedge. Restraining the sob that threatened to overwhelm me, I instead reached out and clutched at his arm, gripping it and hoping he could sense my gratitude through my trembling fingers. He smiled and nodded.

  Over his shoulder, I could see the entire party. At the farthest edge, Prof. Runal lingered, his head bent as he engaged in earnest conversation with none other than our party’s hostess, Lady Sybil.

  There was something in their postures and expressions, the eagerness of his countenance, the manner in which she lay a hand against his forearm, that indicated they were somehow acquainted. Yet she hadn’t left the Hardinge Estate, and certainly couldn’t know anyone well enough for such intimacy. Before I could squint at them to study their energy, they separated, she to return to her guests, he to enter the darkness outside the circle of torches.

  “How peculiar,” I said, rising on my tiptoes to follow Lady Sybil’s movements.

  Chuckling, Tiberius flicked ashes off his cigarette. “Have you found a new puzzle upon which to fix your energies? Don’t you have enough to manage?”

  Wagging a finger at him, I chided, “I’ll not be lectured by you, young man. After all, I am your elder.”

  “If you insist. Come, let’s return to the thick of the festivities,” he said, smiling and offering me his arm. “After all, we don’t want to raise suspicions by lingering too long alone.”

  I sighed at that reminder of our status as illegitimate offspring; we had the same father but different mothers. No one outside of our close circle of friends and family knew that Tiberius and I were siblings. For the sake of our children, we had to maintain the subterfuge. As we didn’t look at all alike—his features being as dark as mine were pale—no one would naturally come to the conclusion we were related. The sad consequence of our history however required that we maintain the appearance of propriety in public.

  “Very well,” I said, and reminded myself this was for the best. What if the queen of gossip, Mrs. Patel, saw us lingering in intimate closeness while our spouses were elsewhere? Worse yet, what if she ever found out my mother, a powerful witch, had been pregnant with me before marriage, and the man she married in haste wasn’t even the father? Or that Tiberius’ mother was a native from the coast of East Africa, and a Popobawa—a shapeshifting demon—to boot? Never mind that our father was a vampire.

  Oh, yes, it would certainly amaze Mrs. Patel and horrify the wider society.

  Shaking my head to clear the dark mood these thoughts conjured, I glanced up at Tiberius. At least I had him in my life, along with our father, our spouses and my other half-brother who just then was exiting the house with Cilla by his side.

  The crowd politely clapped as the couple drifted among the guests, accepting the congratulations. Or more accurately, Cilla managed the interactions with the well-meaning members of Nairobi society. Drew did his best to avoid all contact and conversation, his head angled down and away from anyone who approached them. His body language clearly indicated his desire to remain withdrawn from the world. Long, uncut, dark blond hair hung over his face, covering the wild yellow eyes of a werewolf. At least Cilla had persuaded him to comb out the tangled strands, and I was grateful he had consented to tidying his appearance a little. Even though he was younger than me, there were lines on his face that shouldn’t be there, a proof of the difficulties he’d suffered as a child.

  In just a glance, I observed the tension in his hunched shoulders, the nervous manner in which his gaze flicked back and forth. Interacting with strangers and being in crowded spaces weren’t his strengths, and here he was expected to do both. Silently cursing Lady Sybil’s well-intentioned but misdirected efforts, I patted Tiberius’ arm and led him toward Drew and Cilla.

  While Drew was an unusually well-behaved werewolf, there were limits. At the moment, he didn’t seem physically imposing, but I knew how strong he was under the ill-fitting suit Lord Hardinge had loaned him for the occasion. If he became too anxious, who knew what might break his self-control? What would the social elite think of a werewolf rampaging in their midst?

  When I reached Cilla’s side, she turned to me, her round cheeks flushed, her dark blue eyes bright. Clutching my arm, she whispered, “Goodness, I didn’t expect so many people. This isn’t good at all.”

  I reached around her and grasped Drew’s free hand. Startled, he glanced at me through long bangs, a soft growl fading away as he realized who was touching him.

  “Drew, just do one quick round of the veranda,” I advised. “Then
I’ll take you to the library on some pretense of wanting to give you a big sister lecture. You can do this.”

  The glimmer in his yellow eyes suggested otherwise, but he nodded.

  True to my word, as soon as the couple had completed one circuit of the veranda, I plucked Drew’s arm away from Cilla, loudly declared my intention to converse in private with my brother and, smiling at the chuckling guests, led him into the house, safe from invasive good wishes.

  His breathing evened out as the noises of the party faded behind us. I led the way to the library and came to an abrupt halt outside the door. The door was only ever closed if Father was inside but he was traveling. I sniffed deeply, my sensitive olfactory nerves quivering at a peculiar perfume reminiscent of freshly cut grass and flowers. Beside me, Drew tensed and snarled.

  We were not alone.

  I pushed open the door and stared at the tall, beautiful woman standing in front of the fireplace. Flames reflected off her blue-black skin. A richly textured, red fabric covered her from shoulders to ankles, emphasizing her womanly graces to great effect. Her shortly cropped hair emphasized her eyes which beamed with intelligence. Even when she wasn’t in her praying mantis form, she was lethal.

  “Why, Miss Knight, aren’t you enjoying the party?” Koki purred. With a knowing smile, the West African she-demon jostled a bundle in her arms and sauntered toward us and away from the fireplace.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded as I stared at Koki. “And why isn’t Grace in the nursery?”

  Gazing down at the sleeping baby, Koki made a shushing noise. Next to me, Drew growled.

  “Behave yourself, dog,” Koki ordered, her eyes darker than usual in the dim light of candles. “While little Cilla somehow managed to bathe and comb you, that doesn’t mean you’re fit for company.”

  The growl deepened. I clenched my metal hand around Drew’s wrist. “Drew, not now.”

  Tugging his arm away from me, he began to pace around the room. The scent of wet dog intensified as his canines elongated.

  “Good grief,” I muttered. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Koki, but why are you here?”

  Ignoring my brother, Koki placed Grace on the paisley sofa, the one with the crocodile claw marks in it, and angled a cushion to prevent the baby from rolling. Straightening up, she stared down at me, her posture regal.

  “Something is wrong,” she said.

  I huffed a laugh. “When isn’t there? That’s hardly news. There’s a zombie running the Customs office, a werewolf about to marry a human, an estate full of paranormals who are in need of a new home, a vampire arguing with my gardener about dowry, and Grace is unable to control her urge to shift in public. To what do you refer?”

  Narrowing her eyes, Koki studied the long nails of one hand, then flicked them one by one toward me. “How about the arrival of the Poacher with an interest in collecting shapeshifting babies and young children?”

  “What?” a voice gasped behind me.

  Cursing myself for not closing the library door, I spun around to see Lilly standing in the doorway, her mouth open, her eyes wide, a hand over her heart.

  “Oh, it’s just you,” I said and dragged her inside, then kicked the door closed.

  “I can’t find Grace,” Lilly gasped, one hand tugging at her dark curls, the other gripping the neckline of her dress. “I went to the nursery but—”

  Her words were strained as if she was struggling to breathe. Placing an arm around her shoulders, I steered her to the sofa where Grace lay. The baby had one fist pressed against her round, light brown cheek; her cherub lips were parted.

  “Oh, Grace,” Lilly gasped, collapsing to her knees next to the sofa. Pressing a kiss to the baby’s forehead, Lilly wept but only for a brief moment. Collecting herself, she glared up at Koki. “How dare you. You don’t have the right—”

  “To save your child?” Koki interrupted. “Or do you imagine I’m planning on abducting your bat baby? Foolish, mortal girl.” Her full, dark lips twisted into a sneer. “If I had any intention of taking Grace from you, I could have done so at any moment and would have done the deed by now.”

  Lilly wiped her tears with a jerky motion. “Is that supposed to engender gratitude in me? Why were you here in the first place? And who…”

  Lowering a hand on Lilly’s shoulder to prevent her from exacerbating the situation further, I said, “Thank you for watching over Grace.”

  Koki inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment. Wood crackled in the silence. Drew continued to pace around the room, his growling softer but steady. My stomach fluttered, reminding me I had another reason to be concerned about Koki’s early pronouncement.

  “You mentioned a poacher,” I prompted her.

  “The Poacher,” she corrected me before she tilted her head back, as if to study the ceiling. “Do you remember the first time we met, Miss Knight?”

  Snorting, I sat down on the sofa and rubbed Lilly’s shoulders as she stared at her sleeping baby. “It was a rather memorable occasion.”

  Lilly rested an arm on the sofa and stroked Grace’s head. Sniffing loudly, she asked, “Was that in Lagos?”

  “It was,” I said and shivered. “The Society sent me there to investigate a ring of Brownie smugglers. The poor little fairies were stuffed three to a cage.” Glancing at Koki, I frowned. “I don’t understand how you of all people could involve yourself in that.”

  Hissing, Koki stepped away, her back to us as she stared at the stone fireplace. “I wasn’t, or rather, I was but only in order to stop the trade.”

  “And this Poacher was there?” I guessed.

  Koki thumped a hand on the mantlepiece as she stared into the flames. “He wasn’t just there,” she spat. “He was the heart of the ring. And he didn’t just traffic in Brownies. He would supply anything that was in demand: rare lizards, endangered birds, gorillas, humans. There’s no limit with him. He’s a disgusting beast.”

  The vehemence with which she spoke suggested she had firsthand experience with this person but I dared not broach that subject. Instead, my thoughts drifted into memory as I recalled my visit to the West African city. It was a memory saturated with the coppery scent of blood. Staring down at my loosely clasped hands, I asked, “But if you were there to stop the Poacher, why did you so brutally attack the Lagos Constabulary and kill so many of the constables inside?”

  Lilly gasped and shrunk against my legs. Drew ceased pacing and stared at us, his lips peeled back in a snarl. Koki’s shoulders slumped. Glancing back at me, she shook her head and averted her eyes. “At the time, I believed he was there among them but that’s a poor excuse.”

  The pile of burning wood collapsed, sending up a flurry of sparks. Grace cooed in her sleep, her arms twitching as she dreamed.

  “So this Poacher…” I prompted.

  Koki turned to face us, her arms crossed over her chest. “I’ve heard word that he’s now working in this part of the world. He’s hunting shapeshifters and kidnapping the young ones. For what purpose, no one knows.”

  “Certainly it’s not a beneficial one,” I said, staring at my slumbering niece. Of its own accord, my hand rose up to rest on my midsection. While Emma couldn’t possibly be a shapeshifter, would she be any safer from such nefarious activities?

  Swallowing against the constriction in my throat, I reflected on Prof. Runal’s continued presence. “Do you think this Poacher is in any way connected to the Society for Paranormals?”

  Koki shrugged and placed her hands on her hips. “It’s always possible.”

  “Beatrice,” Lilly moaned and leaned her head against my leg.

  I stroked her hair. “We won’t let anyone come near Grace,” I promised Lilly but my gaze was on Koki who nodded in agreement, her smile wicked and determined. And not for the first time, I was grateful to have a she-demon as a friend.

  Chapter Fourteen

  BEFORE WE COULD conjure a plan to protect our shapeshifting family members from the Poacher, we had to suffer t
hrough another tea party. It was there we learned that training a vampire was an onerous task, even more so when he was of the African variety.

  Fortunately for all concerned, the vampire in question—Yao the Adze—was unfazed by, or more accurately, oblivious to the efforts of Lady Sybil and her snobbish butler, Parson. The same could not be said for the rest of us.

  “Goodness, the woman is a nightmare,” Lilly complained as she slumped into a paisley-patterned sofa, her dark curls bouncing around her petite face.

  “Indeed, she is,” I agreed as I settled onto the Persian carpet in front of her. “She makes your mother seem positively benign.”

  We had barely escaped the latest efforts to “train the household”. Retreating to the library offered some protection as Lady Sybil had no interest at all in the numerous volumes filling the bookcases.

  “Excessive reading is unsuitable for feminine minds,” she had declared during her initial tour of the Hardinge mansion. “Does Queen Victoria spend her days reading? Of course not. Being in the African colonies is no excuse.”

  Her grand tour was the first and only time she’d deigned to enter the library. Thus we were quite safe. I sighed as I gazed into the flames which crackled in the stone fireplace.

  “And she’s invited us to yet another formal tea this afternoon to which we are expected to attend,” Lilly groaned as she braided my long, brown hair. “She’s utterly ruining everything. We should be excited about Cilla’s wedding and plotting against poachers. Instead, we’re dealing with this nonsense. How fortunate your father isn’t here. What would the noble lady have to say about his nocturnal habits?”

  I frowned, hoping Father’s journey would keep him away until Lady Sybil and her uptight butler returned to London. While African vampires had no cause to fear the sun, European vampires like Father did. And what excuses could we devise if he refused all the lady’s invitations for daytime activities?

  “Cilla is quite fortunate to be ill-disposed today,” Lilly continued. “I wish I could be taken by some infirmity. And I’ve had to leave Grace with Nurse Manton for the afternoon. Heaven forbid a baby should attend a tea party.”