by Hall, Alexis
There was a slightly stunned silence in the car park.
“Unorthodox,” murmured al-Rashid, “but effective.”
Thomas Pryce smiled. It was kind of unpleasant. “Well played.”
Mercy curtsied flawlessly. That was kind of unpleasant as well. Then she swept to where Caradoc was lying paralysed on the ground and yanked the bit of my car out of his chest. She put back her veil. I was pretty glad I couldn’t see her expression. “I think this means you’re working for me now.”
He drew in a sharp breath, presumably out of habit. “You grasping, manipulative bitch.”
“You grasping, manipulative bitch, Your Highness.”
“I will not take orders from a whore.”
“Sir Caradoc, you have known me for four hundred years. In all that time, did it not occur to you that I was never ashamed of my profession? And you will take whatever orders I will give, or I will break you.”
He rose to his feet and turned to rest of the vampires. “This woman knows nothing of warfare. She cannot wear the mantle of Prince of Swords.”
“Can I just point out,” said Julian, “that, of the two of you, you’re the one who was just lying on the floor with a stake through his heart?”
“I fought for my people.”
Thomas Pryce sighed. “The job of a prince is not to fight, but to win. In case you have failed to notice, it is no longer the twelfth century, and the ability to swing a sharp piece of metal is no longer the most desirable quality in a leader.”
Caradoc wheeled round and gazed plaintively at Diego. “Will you stand for this?”
“I’m sorry, but I will abide by the decision of the local princes, however shortsighted.”
“If the Council has no further need of me.” Caradoc bowed stiffly and left. He seemed to have got the message. Probably for the first time in his life. Or unlife. Or whatever.
The rest of the vampires left shortly afterwards, leaving me alone with Julian and Elise and the remains of my car.
Elise picked up a piece of shattered metal. “I fear the vehicle has suffered terribly.”
“Yeah, it’s kind of a write-off.”
“Oh no, Miss Kane, I did not believe you would discard a thing so casually.”
“It’ll cost more to fix than to replace.”
Elise turned away and I remembered, too late, that the last time she’d been to a wrecking yard she’d been, well, in it.
Shit.
I put my hand awkwardly on her shoulder. “Fine, fine, we’ll keep the car.”
“Really, Miss Kane?”
“Yes, really. Sorry I was insensitive.”
“I believe the Automobile Association would be able to help us.”
Julian crunched through the wreckage. “If you don’t mind, my dears, I’d rather we didn’t invite a collection of mortals to the site of a supernatural duel, entertaining though it would be to watch you explain how you wrecked your car in an empty car park and why so much of the bodywork has blood on it.”
Elise very slowly folded her arms. It looked kind of awkward, and I don’t think I’d ever seen her do it before. “I will not abandon the vehicle, Miss Saint-Germain.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake.” Julian put a hand to her brow. “How about I ask Ashriel to arrange something?”
“That would be very kind of you.”
Julian stalked off up the ramp, coattails streaming behind her.
“You okay to wait with the car?” I asked.
“Of course, Miss Kane. I will ensure it is well taken care of.”
I set off after Julian. I guessed Mercy and al-Rashid would sort out the vampire army, and it looked like war was off the menu for now, which meant that, assuming Nim did her bit and Henry Percy didn’t ascend to godhood behind my back, I was basically done. I was kind of hoping that meant I could actually spend some time with my girlfriend.
As soon as I got above ground, my phone went off.
Well, fuck. Because apparently the universe is out to cockblock me. “Kane.”
Rachel’s voice crackled over the line. “Nimue needs you at Highgate. We’ve got a situation.”
Of course they had.
I hung up just as Julian pounced on me. “Oh, sweeting, I’ve missed you. Let’s go back to my place, or your place, or any place, and fuck like the Borgias.”
“Did they fuck a lot?”
“Honestly, history has somewhat exaggerated their reputation, but the sentiment stands.”
“Well, that sounds great, but I kind of have to go.”
Julian frowned. “What could possibly be more important than me? Kate, we haven’t had sex for nearly a fortnight.”
“There was kind of a war in the middle.”
“War can be a powerful aphrodisiac.”
“Not if your girlfriend’s hiding in a basement somewhere and hasn’t bothered to tell you where she is.”
“Firstly, it was a very comfortable and well-appointed basement, and secondly, I tried to call you several times, but you never bothered to answer.”
Shit. “Tara sort of stood on my phone.”
“You really must learn to control your pets.”
“Look, I have to go. It’s kind of life or death.”
“Isn’t it always? Now, tell me what’s going on.”
Nim’s only instruction had been to keep the vampires away from this, but this was a vampire, not the vampires, and I’d been keeping so much back from Julian it was starting to feel unpleasantly like cheating. I sighed. “Nim’s got the pot, she’s gone to fight the Morrígan, something’s gone wrong, she needs me.”
There was a long silence.
“Thank you for telling me,” said Julian in her best I’m not angry, I’m just concerned voice.
“I need to get to Highgate, like, now.”
Julian looked up at me, grinned, and swept me into her arms.
“Oh, not this not again.”
“Sweeting, do you want to play hard to get, or do you want to get to Highgate?”
“You enjoy this way too much.”
“I enjoy everything way too much.”
She leapt into the air, taking me with her. It was kind of less romantic than last time, partially because she was moving a lot faster and partially because we were on our way to a graveyard to throw down with a crazy vampire death queen. Julian carried me over the rooftops of the weird pyramid-y housing estate I’d seen in my dream and over the wall into the Highgate Cemetery.
The moment we landed, I realised this wasn’t going to be fun. My breath caught in my throat, and I felt an icy pressure slowly tightening around my heart. I panicked out of habit, but it didn’t seem to be getting any worse, which meant I probably wasn’t going to die. Straightaway, anyway.
It looked like the rest of the place hadn’t been so lucky.
The trees were bare, the ivy withered on the graves. The ground was scattered with dead birds and dust.
Julian looked up like a meerkat. “Kemsit’s here.”
Oh dear.
We started to edge our way between the headstones towards the Morrígan’s tomb. I had no idea where Nim was, but I really hoped she showed up soon, and I really, really hoped she had a plan.
As we approached the main path, I saw Kemsit standing in a teenagery slouch beside a blingy Victorian obelisk. She was still barefoot, still wearing the same torn jeans and faded T-shirt. A browny-gold cat with really big ears sat bolt upright at her feet.
I circled round to get a better look, just in time to see the Morrígan descending from her tomb, tattered wings trailing behind her.
A strange awareness tingled on the back of my neck. I turned and Nim was there. A few flakes of snow spiralled down from the sky and settled on her hair.
Julian glanced from Kemsit to the Morrígan to Nimue and flicked up her brow. “Nice to see you’ve got this so thoroughly under control, Witch Queen.”
Nim shrugged. “I never said it would be easy.”
“You haven’t got a cl
ue, have you?”
“Bicker later,” I snapped. “Now, what’s the plan? There is a plan, isn’t there?”
Nim touched me lightly on the arm. “I need you to take out the creepy child vampire.”
“You know she could kill me instantly right?”
“Can I just point out,” said Julian pissily, “that we’ve just got Kate acquitted for murdering one member of the Council. Are you now proposing she walk up to another and, to put it crudely, lamp her one?”
“I’ll protect her.”
“Her,” I interrupted, “is standing right here. And, to be fair, she’s not keen on the lamping plan either.”
“If these two kick off, a lot of people are going to die,” said Nim. “I just need you to distract the girl while I talk to the Morrígan.”
“Fine.” I threw my hands in the air. “Protect me.”
Nim took a step towards me and pressed her mouth against mine.
“Oh, you are fucking kidding me,” cried Julian. “You’re protecting her with your lips? New plan. Stop kissing my girlfriend right the fuck now. I’m dealing with this.”
We broke apart, and Julian bamfed across the graveyard, putting herself between Kemsit and the Morrígan.
She put her hands on her hips. “I can see you’re about to have a cataclysmic showdown. But could you possibly consider not?”
Kemsit blinked. “No.”
“You are without the authority of the Council. Stand down.”
“No. Now is the moment to act. I will act.”
The Morrígan lifted an arm and a raven landed on her wrist. “You will try. And I will flay the skin from your body and weave your bones into my hair.”
Julian spun round with a kind of for fuck’s sake look on her face. “Will you shut up?”
Kemsit clenched her fist and Julian dropped.
Fuck.
“All right. All right.” I pulled Nim close. “Get protecting.”
Nim put her lips over mine in a way that was definitely nothing like kissing. I felt her breath, cool like the falling snow, and sweet with secrets.
I didn’t stop to ask if it had worked. I just broke away and dashed over to Julian. She was looking pretty fucking dead. But, since she was already dead, hopefully it wouldn’t take.
Kemsit took a few steps forwards, the cat twisting round her ankles. “You are not needed here. Go.”
“You just re-killed my girlfriend.”
“She will recover. Go.”
There was a rustle of feathers as the Morrígan swept towards me from the other side. So, on the one hand, they weren’t fighting each other anymore. On the other, they were fighting me.
Nimue stepped out of the mist behind the Morrígan and tapped her on the shoulder. “I would speak with you, Dread Queen.”
The Morrígan turned slowly, but I didn’t see what happened next because at that point Kemsit grabbed me round the throat.
Well, I wasn’t killed instantly, so something must have been working right. Still, being throttled? Not so great.
“You have become an obstruction.”
I wrapped one hand round her wrist and slammed the other into her elbow. She was old, she was strong, but when you got right down to it, she still had the body of a twelve-year-old. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
Kemsit pulled her arm free and placed the palm of her hand against my chest. I could feel a weight against my heart, but it carried on beating.
She frowned.
I felt kind of shitty about it, but I backhanded her across the face. She staggered and slipped and landed in an undignified heap on the ground.
There was a yowl from somewhere near my ankles, and the cat leapt at me, hissing and spitting and scrabbling its way up my chest like a really angry mountaineer.
I ripped it off and held it at arm’s length while it wriggled and swiped. Not really sure what to do with it, I chucked it over my shoulder.
Kemsit was already on her feet. She looked vaguely confused. I guess she hadn’t been in an actual fight for a couple of millennia.
“Look,” I said. “I basically can’t hurt you, and you basically can’t hurt me. Shall we just call this a draw?”
“You interfere in things that do not concern you.”
I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. “Actually, she’s interfering, I’m just helping.”
She stared past me at whatever was going on with Nim and the Morrígan. “Who is the mortal?”
“Witch Queen of London.”
“Ah.” She paused. The cat slunk between my legs and crawled into Kemsit’s arms. “That is acceptable.”
Then she turned and walked away.
Okay. I had no idea what had just happened, but it’d turned out a lot better than I’d expected.
I knelt down by Julian and opened up my wrist against her fangs. A shiver of decidedly inappropriate pleasure ran through me, but I grit my teeth and rode it out. Julian stirred slightly, so I glanced up to see what the hell was going on with Nim and the Morrígan.
They stood facing each other, a few feet apart. The air was thick was snow and feathers.
“And why,” asked the Morrígan, “should I not simply tear out your eyes and feed your carcass to my birds?”
Nim tucked her hands into the pocket of her hoodie and shrugged. She looked very small and scarily mortal right now. “I don’t know. Why don’t you?”
The Morrígan swept forwards in a swirl of black feathers and flashing talons. I winced, and by the time I stopped wincing, the Morrígan was on her knees at Nim’s feet, snow dusting her tangled hair and ruined wings.
“What you do in the rest of these isles,” said Nimue softly, “is not my concern, but I am Queen of this city.”
“I was here when the city was nothing but earth, and I shall be when it is nothing but ashes.”
“And then you may return and be Queen over a dead land. But while my city lives, you will sleep.”
“I came only for what is mine.”
The snow was falling thickly now, turning the world silver like in my dreams, and surrounding Nimue in a shifting mantle. “It will be returned to you. And you will return to your rest.”
The Morrígan bowed her head. “I accept.”
There was a swirl in the mist and a roar of engines in the distance. After a minute or two, Michelle and a couple of her gang walked through the gates. As she approached, wings of fire unfurled from her shoulders and flames danced between her hands, forming the shape of a sword. A tall young man with red, waist-length hair was cradling the pot in his arms.
The Morrígan rose to her feet, reached out and took the beaker. For a moment, she was utterly still in the snow, her fingers curling tenderly over its broken surface.
Then she turned, walked into the tomb, and the doors closed behind her.
Nim’s hands traced a pattern in the air and the chain that had sealed the tomb coiled itself back into place. Then she knelt, took up handful of snow and blew gently across her palm. The flakes stirred and danced, shimmered silver for a moment in the air and settled over the door. It hardened swiftly into frost, which sparkled like tiny stars, and then faded away.
“Right, pub,” said Michelle.
Nim dusted off her hands. “You coming, Kate?”
I helped a still-shaky Julian to her feet. “I think we’re good.”
The mages disappeared into the mist, leaving me alone—at last—with my vampire girlfriend. Okay, we were in a graveyard, but with the snow and everything, it was quite pretty.
“You know,” she drawled, “if you keep kissing witches, we’re going to have words.”
“It’s just the way it works.”
“Oh, how terribly convenient.”
This probably wasn’t the best time to tell her I’d accidentally kissed Corin. Then again, the last time I’d decided it was a bad time to tell Julian something, it hadn’t worked out so well.
“Um,” I said.
I woke to the taste of wine and rose le
aves, the smell of fresh coffee, and Julian hard at work between my legs.
It beat the hell out of an alarm clock.
Afterwards, we lay in a happy pile, and I appreciated the perks of dating the vampire prince of pleasure.
“So,” I asked, “Mercy’s Prince of Swords now, huh?”
Julian stretched her arms lazily over her head. “You can never just enjoy a moment, can you?”
“I like to have an idea what’s going on. It stops me getting, y’know, killed.”
“Well, it hasn’t been formalised yet, but after last night’s performance, I doubt Caradoc will have much support from the Council. He’s older, but he’s never been a thinker.”
“Was Aeglica?”
“No, and look what happened to him.”
I didn’t actually like to think about what happened to Aeglica. As vampires went, he hadn’t been that bad. And I really try to avoid murdering people if I can help it. “What’s going to happen to the Morrígan’s army?”
“They’ll be dealt with quietly.”
“You mean you’re going to kill them all?”
She rolled onto an elbow and gazed at me lazily. “No, we’re going to send them to live on a lovely farm in the country with all the blood they can drink. Yes, of course we’re going to kill them.”
“But they’re people. You can’t just slaughter them because it’s convenient.”
“They’ve been turned, abandoned, and let loose on the city. They haven’t learned to control their bloodlust, and we haven’t got the means to teach them. It’s terribly unfortunate, sweeting, but we don’t have prisons, and we don’t really do rehabilitation.”
“I sent this guy to Acton, and he seems to have sorted him out.”
Julian shrugged. “He could probably save a few but not hundreds, and how would you decide who lives and who dies? It’s the only way, sweeting.” She slithered over and kissed my nose. “But it’s adorable that you care.”
“I’m not sure that opposing mass murder counts as a cute little foible. I might as well have just left it to the werewolves.”
“That was a question of what Pryce would call demarcation.”
I sighed. “Of course he would.”
There was a silence.