by Hall, Alexis
She left a few minutes later, and I left a few minutes after that. I’d at least sorted out the case that had got this whole thing started. That just left the psycho vampire queen and the woman who murdered my partner. The Morrígan was for bigger fish than me to deal with, which meant I was probably going to wind up chasing Corin Black in circles. Again. When I got home, I called Elise into the front room to talk shop.
“Miss Kane,” she told me. “I was about to start making a soufflé.”
“Elise, you don’t eat, why have you suddenly started cooking?”
“I find it fascinating. You take raw ingredients and fashion them into something that is quite other than what they were. It is a process to which I can relate.”
“You’re a model fucking housemate, you know that?”
“I do not like to think of myself as a model, Miss Kane.”
I winced. “Sorry, I just meant you’re like really good. You cook, you clean, you don’t make noise, and you don’t use the bathroom.”
“I am happy to be living with you.” She smiled at me. “I am gratified to have a friend.”
I panicked. “Uh, can we talk about work for a minute?”
“Of course, Miss Kane.”
“The Shawcross case is closed and so, until we get another job, I’d like your help with something personal.”
She gave me a look she had clearly been practicing. “I have told you before, I am not carved that way.”
“Oh, very funny. I’m looking for this woman called Corin Black. She was serving a mandatory life sentence for blowing away my partner, but someone busted her out.”
“Why would anyone do such a thing?”
I sprawled out on the sofa and propped my feet on the arm. “Probably because they wanted her to nick something. She’s a high-end art thief, specialising in occult shit. She’s smart, she’s manipulative, and I sometimes think she’s got a guardian fucking angel. She’ll be pretty much impossible to catch, but we’re going to try.”
“Where would you like me to begin?”
Elise very slowly put both hands on her hips.
I stared at her. “What are you doing?”
“I have noticed that some people find it disconcerting if I stand still for too long. I am experimenting with a variety of poses.”
“Okay. Um. Carry on. So, Patrick’s police contacts would be really useful right now, but for the first time in fifteen years, he’s not talking to me. So we’re going to have to do it the old-fashioned way.”
“Am I looking at newspaper archives again, Miss Kane?”
“’Fraid so.”
Elise brought a hand to rest on her chin. I was pretty sure this was more disconcerting, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her. “What should I be looking for?” she asked.
“You’re looking either for weirdos who’ve had weird stuff stolen or break-ins where it doesn’t seem like anything of value is missing.”
“I will see what I can do.”
“Start Monday, obviously. This is your day off. Go back to your eggs.”
I pissed away the rest of the day doing basically nothing. Given the choice, I’d have preferred to spend my time having red-hot vampire sex with my girlfriend, but since that wasn’t an option, just being able to chill the fuck out for a few hours was a welcome change.
I’d just taken the soufflé into the living room so I could eat it in front of Downton Abbey when the buzzer went. Knowing my luck, it would be Patrick or Sofia or Thierry telling me Hugh had escaped.
I picked up the handset. “What is it?”
“Katharine Kane, by the authority of the Council you are commanded to face judgement for the murder of Aeglica Thrice-Risen, Prince of Swords.”
Well, fuck.
Last time Caradoc and his goons had come for me, we’d been in the middle of a Tube station, so I’d been pretty sure they wouldn’t just rip my head off, but this time there was nothing to stop them kicking down the door and eating me. Years of putting up with Patrick had taught me that vampires don’t need an invitation to get into your house. I knew I should have got those wards fixed.
“I’ll be right down.” I hung up and called to Elise in the kitchen. “I’m being arrested by vampires again. Don’t wait up.”
“Do you require any assistance, Miss Kane?”
“Can you record Downton for me? And if I don’t come back, you know the drill. Keep my stuff, tell my parents, leave my name on the door.”
“Am I permitted to change it to Kane (deceased) & Archer (deceased)?”
I pulled my coat on and grabbed my hat. “Good to know you’ve got my back, Elise.”
“Always, Miss Kane.”
There wasn’t much point in going armed because I wouldn’t stand a chance if we got into a fight, and they’d probably take my weapons off me anyway. I briefly considered bringing the Sword of Killing Everything but I thought they might take that the wrong way.
I went downstairs and let Caradoc’s minions bundle me into a black sedan. There was no banter. Caradoc didn’t even bother to gloat. They just drove me from my front door to Aeglica’s mansion. The Council were assembled in the upstairs room where I’d told al-Rashid to fuck off. They’d taken down the enormous picture of the naked chick. Shame. It would have felt strangely appropriate.
Here lies Kate Kane. Executed by vampires underneath a portrait of a hot woman. Beloved daughter. Sorely missed.
Aeglica’s ceremonial sword was still there, though. I guess that did set the proper tone.
The Council, the princes, Halfdan, Mercy, and Caradoc were seated around a large table they’d had dragged up from one of the other rooms. Kemsit was sitting cross-legged in the middle of it, looking much as she had last time, like a kid who’d run away from home and become evil.
“This Council,” she said, “is convened to pass judgement on the mortal Katharine Kane, Princess of the Deepwild, Knight of the Witchcourt of London, who is accused of the murder of Aeglica Thrice-Risen, Fenwalker, Shadowdweller, Oathbreaker, Kinkiller, Manslayer, Exile, Hero, who in England was called the Prince of Swords.”
I glanced at Julian, trying to work out how fucked I was, but her expression was unreadable. It didn’t look like she cared whether I lived or died.
“I call upon Mercy to give the case for execution.”
Mercy rose and pushed back her veil with taloned fingers. Her skirts rustled as she glided to the centre of the room. She looked at me with pure black eyes, just long enough to let me know that this was personal, and then began to speak.
“Aeglica Thrice-Risen was a loyal servant of this Council. Since the fall of the Morrígan, he fulfilled the duties of the Prince of Swords, standing between our kind and our enemies. For three and a half centuries, he fought and bled for us. He was slain by this mortal, of whose true allegiances we know nothing. The safety of our people depends on the strength of this Council, and it would be folly to allow this travesty to go unanswered. A message must be sent to those who would defy us, to those who would destroy us, and to those who would subvert this Council to their own ends.”
Shit. I was kind of outclassed here. My whole case had been it was an accident M’lud, and right now, I wasn’t sure even I’d acquit me.
After Mercy had returned to her seat, Kemsit asked if anyone wanted to speak on my behalf.
There was a resounding silence from Julian.
Then Acton stood. “If it please the Council, I have known the accused for half her life and have always found her to be a person of honesty, integrity, and compassion. Although there is no doubt that she killed Aeglica Thrice-Risen, I do not believe that she intentionally murdered him, and I trust that her actions were for the greater good of this Council and this city.”
Kemsit, who had been listening attentively with one hand on a pair of brass scales, looked up. “Does anyone wish to make reply?”
Caradoc shot to his feet. “This is a farce. This mortal slew my master, and we sit here debating the merits of punishing he
r for it. There is right, and there is wrong; there is strength, and there is weakness. To let the murder of a prince go unpunished makes fools and cowards of us all.”
The Prince of Wands glanced at Kemsit and then spoke up. “While I am not certain that Sir Caradoc’s tone is appropriate for this chamber, I believe he raises a valid concern.”
Great. The fucker had sold me out.
“It seems to me that this is a matter not of justice but of vengeance. The accused most certainly killed the Prince of Swords, and his progeny are within their rights to take revenge, but it would set a dangerous precedent to hold a mortal accountable to Council law. Those who are bound by the law are also protected by it. If we try Miss Kane for murder, then we must try every vampire hunter that rams a stake through the heart of a fledging. I can speak only for myself, but if a mortal crosses me, I would rather simply kill them.”
Diego leaned across the table, fingers steepled, and after getting the nod from Kemsit, spoke. “Ordinarily, I would concur, but this situation is more complex. The accused is not merely a mortal, but a mortal who is known to act on the behalf of the Prince of Cups. The question is, therefore, not whether our law applies to mortals, but how it applies to those who work through mortals.”
Julian raised a hand. “By which argument, it is not Kate who should be on trial. I sincerely hope that you are not trying to turn these proceedings into, if you’ll pardon the phrase, a witch hunt.”
“Perhaps,” said Kemsit, “we should hear from the accused. If she acted on your orders, then she has no case to answer.” Her gaze fell on me, heavy as stone. “Katharine Kane, what have you to say in your defence?”
I glanced uncertainly between Diego and Julian. If I was going to sell Julian out, now was the time to do it. She’d probably be okay anyway. I mean, she’d survived for eight hundred years. How much damage could I do? Then, again, she’d probably dump me, and possibly kill me as well. Oh, yeah, also it would have been wrong.
“The death of Aeglica Thrice-Risen was an accident,” I said. “I didn’t intend to kill him, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry he’s dead. Julian didn’t order me to do anything.”
“Has all been said that must be said?” asked Kemsit. The room was silent. “Then the Council passes judgement. I shall call on each of you in turn to declare the accused guilty or innocent of the crime laid against her. I remind those here gathered that should the votes be balanced, mine shall be the deciding voice. I say now that I find the accused guilty. She slew the Prince of Swords, and there is an end to it.”
Well, fuck.
One by one, Kemsit indicated the members of the Council, starting with the princes.
The Prince of Wands smirked. “Innocent. A mortal is neither bound nor protected by the laws of our kind.”
“Innocent.” The Prince of Coins looked sourly at his colleague. It seemed like Sebastian came through on that one.
Halfdan stopped lounging and sat upright. “Guilty. Nothing personal, Miss Kane, but Sebastian seems to want you alive, and that worries me.”
“Guilty,” snapped Diego. “If she acted alone, then she bears the guilt alone.”
Acton cleared his throat politely. “Innocent. I believe intent is as important as action, and I believe Katharine’s intentions were honourable.”
Sybil said nothing.
“You wish to abstain?” asked Kemsit.
Sybil nodded.
That just left al-Rashid. The guy I’d told to fuck off. Well, this was going to be interesting.
“Innocent.” He gave the faintest trace of a smile. “Mercy is a virtue.”
From where I was sitting, Mercy was looking pretty pissed off.
On the other hand, against all the odds, I seemed to be alive.
“Katharine Kane,” said Kemsit, “you have been acquitted of the charges laid against you.”
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to say anything. Was I supposed to thank them for just barely voting not to rip my head off? On the other hand, if I said something they didn’t like, they might just decide to kill me anyway.
Luckily, at that point, the window exploded. And an actual swarm of ragged feral vampires came crawling down the walls.
The one time you leave the house unarmed . . .
The next thing I knew, Julian had slammed me into a corner and was standing in front of me like a cobra ready to strike. The room had descended into bloody chaos except for a still point in the dead centre where Kemsit sat unmoving on the table.
Caradoc and al-Rashid had both leapt onto the windowsill and were stemming the tide pretty damn effectively. The Prince of Wands had fucked off and was standing behind the door, not drawing attention to himself. I guess he didn’t want to get blood on his nice white suit.
Mercy was tearing people apart with a ferocity I wouldn’t have expected from someone dressed like Mary Poppins. The Prince of Coins had pulled a gun and was picking off anybody who made it through the front line. Acton just stood there, looking concerned and sorrowful, and nobody seemed to want to attack him. Halfdan seemed to have vanished.
One of the vampires sprang onto the table and tried to bite Kemsit in the neck. It crumbled to dust as it touched her. She didn’t even blink.
On the other side of the room, Sybil had backed one of the attackers against the wall and was holding it mesmerised as her snake slowly coiled round its body. Diego had something pinned to the table and seemed to be snapping its fingers, one by one.
A couple of them came for me, but Julian just bamfed between them and clawed their throats out. It didn’t kill them, but it made them back the hell off.
Suddenly, a couple of fledglings broke free from the melee and rushed to the back of the room. The Prince of Coins levelled his pistol and calmly shot one of them in the head, but the other grabbed Aeglica’s sword and bolted for the door.
Caradoc sprang down from the windowsill. “Stop the thief,” he yelled.
The Prince of Wands extended one languid hand and pushed the door closed. Caradoc came up behind the vampire, wrested the sword from her hand, swung it round in an arc, and split her in two from shoulder to hip.
Mercy wheeled round in a flurry of black taffeta and gore. “Caradoc, that weapon is not yet yours to wield.”
It was nice to know that not even a bloodbath could get in the way of the incessant vampire bickering.
And then the room was full of ravens. And standing in the middle of them was the Morrígan. Just like when I’d seen her in the Dream, she was tall and pale with a kind of terrifying beauty like a sheer drop off a cliff. Somehow, it was worse in person. I felt I should be on my knees. I looked round and realised that half the Council already were.
“You have something that belongs to me,” she said. Her voice was darkness and dead things. She turned slowly in a swirl of feathers and shadows until she faced Caradoc.
To give the guy his due, he was still standing. “We defeated you once, Dread Queen. We will do so again.”
The Morrígan laughed. I’ve heard a lot of creepy laughs in my time, and that was going straight in at number three. “Then step forth, Sir Knight, and strike true.”
She spread her arms wide, stirring the wings folded at her back, and a raven swooped down and landed on her wrist.
There was no way this was going to end well.
Caradoc charged, bringing Aeglica’s sword round and cutting savagely down into the Morrígan’s neck. There was nothing there but feathers. And then her hand erupted through his chest and lifted him off the ground. He just hung there for a moment, not moving, the sword slipping from his grip. One of the Morrígan’s birds landed on her palm and began tearing at Caradoc’s face.
I didn’t like the guy, but that was pretty grim.
At last, she lowered her arm and shook him onto the floor in a shower of blood and ick. He lay there, twitching, his face a terrible ruin and what my A-level biology told me was probably vitreous humour streaking down his cheeks like tears.
The M
orrígan bent to pick up the fallen sword.
“That is enough.” Kemsit still hadn’t moved. “You were found wanting. Your time is over.”
“The treaty is broken. I am here to claim what is mine.”
“Nothing here is yours.”
The Morrígan twisted something out of the hilt of Aeglica’s sword. Then Kemsit was standing in front of her, one frail, girlish hand wrapped around the Morrígan’s wrist. Where she touched, the skin began to crack, greyish flakes falling away between her fingers. With a series of heavy, almost comical thumps, the Morrígan’s birds began to fall from the air.
I could feel the hand closing round my heart again, and I had to struggle to breathe.
The Morrígan lashed out and laid Kemsit’s face open to the bone. Slowly, the blackened edges of the wound began to knit together.
Kemsit didn’t move, but the desiccation kept creeping up the Morrígan’s arm. Slowly her fingers uncurled, and something dropped to the floor with a plink.
“I will rain death on this city.” And she vanished into darkness.
There was a very long silence.
Thomas Pryce, the Prince of Coins, tucked his gun away and stepped forwards. “It seems we are at war, and we have no war leader. I therefore propose the following course of action. Al-Rashid, I would ask you to take charge of the defence of the city until a new Prince of Swords can be appointed.”
Sir Caradoc clawed himself painfully into a seat. He was healing but slowly. “You will not,” he rasped, “hand this country to an infidel.”
“I concur,” said Diego.
Pryce shrugged. “Infidel, papist, it’s all the same to me.”
While they were quarrelling over a five-hundred-year-old religious dispute, I picked up the thing the Morrígan had dropped. It was a shard of pottery, about three inches long. I had no idea what it was, so I pocketed it for later. Yes, a millennia-ancient vampire queen was looking for it and might want it back, but hey, a clue was a clue.