Blood Kin: A Novel of the Half-Light City

by M. J. Scott

  I needed something that would bite me deeper than the razor.

  I looked around the room, trying to think what I could use. Then went to the bed and the bag Fen had brought me. Along with clothes and charms, he’d brought me my hair brush and various things scooped pell-mell off my dressing table. Amongst them was a small mirror, a pretty gilt thing that had been my mother’s.

  One of the last things she’d given me before she’d drifted into whatever place it was she went to in her mind. I remembered her laughing as she tossed it to me, telling me that I needed such things more than she did now. The mirror’s glass was small but hopefully large enough that if I smashed it, it should yield a shard or two big enough to slice a finger.

  I wrapped my hand around it, fighting tears again. I didn’t want to destroy it, but that was exactly why I had to. A sacrifice would add to the power of the charm. I pressed the mirror quickly to my lips. Then, eyes stinging, I wrapped it in the folds of a skirt and bashed it hard against the metal bed frame. There was a rapid clink of breaking glass and I felt the shape of it bend beneath my hand.

  Mama. Biting my lip, I unwrapped the folds quickly. Several large shards of mirrored glass glinted up at me and I picked one up carefully to carry to the window.

  I gathered the charms and reached for the magic again. Nothing but my will and my blood to help work what I needed. I took a deep breath, slashed my forearm with the glass, biting down the protesting cry that rose in my throat at the sudden pain.

  Blood welled. Came fast and red. Too fast. I fought for breath as the room wobbled a little around me.

  I held my arm over the charms, letting the blood drip until I judged there was enough. Then I closed my fingers around them, feeling blood-dampened metal and leather and glass.

  My arm throbbed as I closed my eyes and concentrated.

  Change. Combine. Connect.

  Sweet Lady, let this work.

  The song of the charms under my hand altered, a chord resolving. Three distinct notes hummed into one and I opened my hand cautiously. They still looked the same. Still a mess of thongs and metal and glass, but the bright red blood had vanished and only that single note sounded in my head like a benediction.

  So I’d achieved something. Whether or not it would do what I needed was another matter entirely. As was how in seven hells I was going to be able to plant it on Simon before I left.

  GUY

  “Simon isn’t here,” Lily said, scooping the kitten off her lap as she rose to greet me with a smile.

  I didn’t think the smile would last very long once she heard what I had come to say. “I came to see you.”

  The smile vanished. “Yes?”

  She had good instincts; she knew trouble when she saw it. Growing up in the Blood Court will do that to a person.

  “Can we sit?”

  She considered me for a moment, then turned on her heel and led the way to the kitchen. She pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and nodded at me. “Sit. Talk.”

  “We had trouble again last night,” I said, trying to think how best to appeal to this woman who was still largely a mystery to me. The one thing I knew for certain about her was that she would defend what she considered hers. Simon fell into that category. I thought I did too but wasn’t entirely sure. “Men died,” I continued.

  “I’m sorry,” she said gravely. “In your squad?”

  “Yes, two.”

  Sympathy flashed in the clear gray eyes. “The City is troubled.”

  “The City,” I said, figuring that, when it came right to it, the truth was easiest, “seems to be under attack. Or the treaty is.”

  Lily shifted in her chair, one hand straying to her hip as it did when she felt uneasy. She still wore her weapons, even here in the house where she felt safest. “How do you know?”

  “There’s simply too much trouble. If it were just the Blood, there’d be a new lord by now and things would be calming down.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “No. But I don’t know that I’m wrong either. These attacks . . . there’s a reason for them. Just like there has to be a reason for the Beast that tried here.”

  Her eyes darkened at the memory. “They haven’t tried again.”

  “Yet,” I said bluntly.

  Lily nodded. Good. I wasn’t going to have to argue. Lily was a fighter, like me. She saw things clearly.

  “If these ambushes keep happening, then the Templars are going to be weakened before we even get close to the treaty negotiations. If that happens the whole damned city is going to go down in flames. I need to find out who’s behind them and stop them.”

  Lily went very still. “You want me to spy for you?” Her tone was flat, every emotion stripped from it, buried under control that went down to her bones. This was how she’d been when Simon and I had first taken her from Lucius. Before Simon had somehow connected with the woman beneath the killer. A creature of ice and shadow. No way to know what she was thinking. Or what she might do.

  “No. I want to keep you safe. You and Simon. I want to make sure that you’re not dragged into this. You know what the risk is if one of the Blood did catch you. A Blood Lord with wraith powers is the last thing we need. But I won’t lie to you, Lily. There are those in the order who think we should be using you.”

  “I don’t belong to the Templars.” Her voice if anything was colder. Lily had been a slave for the first thirty-odd years of her life. I knew she had no intention of letting anybody control her ever again. She’d die first.

  “I know you don’t. And I won’t let them try to claim otherwise.”

  “Why do I feel as though there’s a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence?”

  “Because there is. To keep you out of this, I have to use somebody else.”

  “Who?”

  “There was a girl brought into St. Giles a few days ago.”

  “The one who fell down some stairs?”

  My eyebrows rose a little. “How did you know about her?”

  “Simon told me. And I think I met her in the garden a few days ago. She’s half Fae, yes?”

  “Yes. She’s also a spy.”

  “A Night Worlder?”

  “More a neutral party. From what I hear, she works for whoever has the price. Blood or Beast or Fae or maybe even humans.”

  “None of whom will appreciate her working for the Templars,” Lily said. “So why is she helping you?” There was a dangerous gleam in her eye now.

  “I’m not forcing her,” I said before her temper could rise too high. “We’ve come to an agreement. I’m helping her with something she wants and she’ll help me in turn.”

  “Then what’s the catch?”

  “As you said, it’s dangerous for her to do this. And I’m not going to leave her unprotected.”

  Lily’s mouth formed a perfect O for a moment, then she pressed her lips together disapprovingly. “A Templar can’t go into the Night World, Guy. You won’t get anywhere. If they let you live.”

  “I know,” I said grimly. “That’s where you come in.”

  * * *

  I left Lily with Bryony and returned to the Brother House just as afternoon services were beginning. I slipped into the chapel, taking a seat near the rear of the high narrow room, and closed my eyes.

  God, let me be doing the right thing.

  Not much as prayers went, but I’d never been one for fancy prayers outside of the order’s rituals. So far, God didn’t seem to mind.

  I didn’t really pay attention to the service. The familiar cadences washed over me, leaving me alone in my head with my simple prayer as my body and mouth moved at the correct times and formed the correct responses. As always, a sense of calm settled over me as I sat surrounded by the sounds of worship. A sense that I was doing the right thing. A feeling unique to this place.

  I swallowed, the next response dying on my lips. How long until I would stand here again, in this place that had always been a refuge and a homecoming? The pl
ace where I stood with my fellow knights and my God and felt welcome.

  Would it ever be that way again?

  God, let me do the right thing and please, God, forgive me.

  The last chants ended and I stood, adrenaline combining with the lack of sleep to leave me feeling detached and vaguely sick. As Father Cho moved past me, he nodded slightly. I squared my shoulders. All right, then. Time to begin.

  I waited until everyone else had left the chapel, wanting a few more moments of peace. When I finally emerged, one of the novices was waiting for me.

  “Father Cho needs you to attend the afternoon report, Sir Guy,” he said respectfully. I looked at him, struggling for a moment to remember his name. He was young and gangly and eager, like most of the novices. As I had been at his age. Several lifetimes ago.

  “Thank you, Robert,” I said.

  “In his office, sir.”

  I nodded. Nothing out of the ordinary. Not yet. No one would suspect what we were about to do. “On your way,” I said to Robert, and started for Father Cho’s office, feeling not a little like a novice on his way to a punishment myself.

  Father Cho stood, as usual, behind his desk, studying the map spread across it. Ranged around him were the five early patrol squad leaders, red-eyed, dust-stained, and rumpled. Patrick was there too. He obviously hadn’t gotten any sleep yet either. And he didn’t look as though his mood had improved any.

  I’d half expected him to be here—Father Cho always did know how to pick his audience—but I wished I’d been wrong.

  However, the more people who witnessed this, the better. I joined the others at the desk, taking position opposite Patrick.

  Father Cho lifted his head, his expression inscrutable. I wondered if he was giving me a chance to change my mind. I merely stood silent. He looked around the group, then at me. “We lost another man today,” he said.

  Hell’s balls. Three in one day? At this rate there might not be an order to return to. “Who?” I asked.

  “Kendrick.” It was Patrick who spoke, and anger turned his voice gravelly. “Another ambush. Fucking Beasts.”

  Kendrick was another of the novices. I tightened my jaw, determined not to show any reaction. I was here to be contrary. “Too bad,” I said casually. “He would’ve been a good man, eventually.”

  Stuart, Kendrick’s squad leader, shot me an incredulous look. “He was a good man,” he snarled. He turned to Father Cho. “We can’t keep going on this way. It’s suicide.”

  “You think we should just give up? Hide away?” Patrick shot back.

  “I think we need a better plan,” Stuart said.

  “What we need,” Patrick said with a dark look in my direction, “is better information.”

  “What we need,” I said, mimicking his tone and his look, “is for you not to think, Patrick. Never was your strong point.”

  Patrick’s hand slipped down to his sword hilt. “You—”

  “Enough,” Father Cho’s voice snapped out, and we fell silent, too well trained to ignore that particular tone of command.

  “We need intelligence,” he said into the silence. He looked squarely at me. “I’m sorry, Guy, but we’re going to have to use Lily.”

  “No,” I said flatly. “You’re not.”

  “You have a better idea?” Patrick said, his hand still wrapped around his sword.

  “No,” I said, feeling sick at what I was doing. Patrick was playing into my hands exactly as we needed him to. But it didn’t feel good. No, seeing the anger and pain in him felt more like being covered in battle gore, the kind that clings to your skin and fills your nose with the stink of pain and death. The kind you can’t wait to scrub away but are never sure you truly can. “No, I don’t. But you’re not having Lily.”

  “Yet you’d put us at risk to protect your brother’s Night Worlder whore?” Patrick snarled.

  My sword was out and pointed at Patrick’s throat before he could blink. “I believe the term you’re looking for,” I drawled, “is fiancée. Apologize.”

  “For speaking the truth?” Patrick said. “I don’t think so.”

  There was a hiss of metal as he started to pull his own sword free. I pressed my point closer, just at the point of drawing blood.

  “Guy! Stand down,” Father Cho snapped.

  I shook my head. “No, sir, I don’t believe I will. Patrick here insulted a member of my family.”

  “You do not draw a weapon on a brother knight in this house. Stand down!” Father Cho thundered.

  My fingers gripped the sword tighter as I fought the instinctive urge to obey. “No,” I repeated. “He’s not my brother when he would happily send someone under my protection into danger.”

  “Guy, don’t do this,” Father Cho said. “I won’t have discord in the order. We can’t afford it.”

  “Then I suggest you tell Patrick that Lily is not a weapon to be deployed at his whim,” I said, still watching Patrick. I didn’t think he’d actually attack me in front of Father Cho or else we’d have one more disgraced knight than I’d been planning on to deal with.

  Father Cho looked furious. Enough that part of me instinctively wanted to follow his order. Years of training bit deep, but I ignored them, held my sword steady.

  “I’m the one who decides what weapons we will or will not use, and right now we need all of them. I’m sure Lily will understand why we need her,” Father Cho said flatly.

  She probably would at that. In fact, she’d argued with me for a long time before agreeing to do things my way because she did feel she owed the humans something. But her sense of obligation wasn’t enough for me to agree to let her throw away what she and Simon had built together. Or let whoever was pulling the strings behind this whole mess get their hands on her so easily. If indeed it was her they wanted.

  “No, sir,” I said, wondering if my voice sounded as strange to them as it did to me. I felt as though I were listening to myself from a distance or watching a play. One where I knew what happened, knew I couldn’t change it, but still wanted to scream at the players to make the ending come out differently. “I don’t think you can. I think you’ll find that Lily has been granted haven at St. Giles. As has my brother. And not even you can make them set one foot over the threshold against their will, sir.”

  “You warned them?” Father Cho sounded both furious and incredulous now. I’d not realized he was such a good actor. Then again, leading men is partly a performance. “You knew that I wanted to ask for her help and you warned her? Against the interests of the order and the whole bloody city?”

  You could have heard a pin drop. Stuart and the other four squad leaders were frozen in place, not knowing where to turn. Patrick stared at me as if I’d just smeared dog shit across the chapel altar.

  “So it would seem. You forced me to choose. Well, I choose my family.” I left off the “sir” with an effort of will.

  “Once upon a time you would have said the order was your family, Guy. You swore oaths. Oaths of obedience. I’ll give you one last chance. Go and talk to Lily. That’s an order.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Guy, we’re fighting a war. Right here, right now, we’re under attack. The people we have sworn to protect are dying. I just gave you an order.”

  “And I’m declining it. I won’t do it.” I steeled myself for what came next.

  Father Cho drew in a breath. “So be it.”

  I turned my head at that, meeting his gaze, dark with pain and anger. “The six of you stand witness here. Guy DuCaine, for forswearing your oaths to this order, I hereby banish you from its ranks. You are stripped of rank and commission. I want you out of here in one hour.”

  I stepped back, sheathed my sword. “Suits me just fine,” I said. “I don’t belong here anymore.”

  Father Cho’s mouth was flat and grim. “So let it be done,” he said, completing the order. “May God have mercy on your soul. Because if we find you working against the order again, Guy, we will not.”


  Chapter Nine

  HOLLY

  I heard the cathedral bell toll five o’clock and wondered how much time I had left before Guy returned. Not much. I had to plant the charm. Which meant seeing Simon. He usually checked in on me sometime during the afternoon. So, did I chance waiting or did I go looking?

  My palms were damp as I slipped the charm into my pocket. Making it was the first step. Getting it into place would be another thing entirely. I didn’t know if a glamour would even work on a sunmage.

  If it didn’t . . . if I tried and failed, then Lady knew what might happen.

  Don’t think about that. Just get to work. I took a shaky breath, then made up my mind. I would go find Simon before I ran out of time. I was just about to leave when Simon opened my door and smiled at me.

  Guilt squeezed my heart. This man had been nothing but kind to me, yet here I was, trying to betray him. But kind or not, he wasn’t family. My mother and Reggie were. They were depending on me. I had no choice. And perhaps my father was wrong. Perhaps Simon had no secrets to be discovered.

  “How are you feeling today?” Simon asked, studying me with those guileless blue eyes.

  Do it now. I had to try. No more time for doubt or indecision. If I hesitated, I would lose my chance and my mother and Reggie might be lost.

  “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that,” I said. I held my arm. “I need you to take the cast off.”

  “What?” He came toward me as I had hoped he would. “You’re not ready for that. Your bones will still be fragile.” He laid his hand on the cast and frowned. “Is it hurting you?”

  “Simon,” I said softly, and he looked at me. I laid my hand over his, skin to skin.

  Do it now. No more thinking.

  I gathered my magic and threw the glamour at him. Simon’s eyes went soft and dazed.

  “Simon,” I said, testing exactly what control I might have over him. “Let go of my arm.”

  He obeyed.

  “Good. Now, I’m going to do something and you’re not to remember it.” I stood slowly, but he stayed where he was, not moving, not reacting.

  Cautiously, using every pickpocket skill I ever had, I came around to his side and slid my hand under his tunic, to where I sensed the invisibility charm, like a tiny cool beacon. This was the tricky part. This charm wasn’t mine, but I had to piggyback mine onto it. And hope that no one would notice the difference.