Night Blade: Blade Hunt Chronicles Book Two

by Juliana Spink Mills

  Ben ripped open the envelope all at once and shook the contents out. A series of color photos fluttered down, landing on the stained carpet like a swarm of oversized butterflies. Him and Gabi, that day in Central Park. Dead leaves, rough bark, soft kisses. They should have known better.

  His stomach tightened, fear pulsing through him. “Go near my son again and I will obliterate you,” the Baroness had told him. He picked up the closest photo. The shot was sharp, clear. There was no mistaking the two of them for anyone else. Ben had been caught in profile, one hand on the tree beside Gabi’s head, the other resting at his waist, his tall lanky frame a contrast to Gabi’s shorter, sturdier build. Gabi was smiling up at him: not his usual cheeky grin but something more intimate. Eyes blazing, dark curls falling across his forehead. Ben’s own light brown hair was hidden under that ridiculous orange beanie Gabi had bought him at Halloween, a splash of color among the muted browns and yellows. It was a beautiful picture. It was also damning as hell.

  He flipped the photo over. On the back, in the same neat lettering as on the envelope: Gabriel Reis and Benjamin Kelley. The date, place, and time were in smaller lettering underneath.

  “Shit!” Ben stared at the photo in his hands. His first impulse was to ring Gabi. But he knew what this was about. He knew who was responsible. Headache hammering at his skull, he got up and filled a glass at the tiny sink. He popped two aspirins in his mouth and washed them down with big gulps of water. Then he stood for a while, staring out the grimy window at the blank wall of the neighboring building until anger bled through his panic. Finally, once he was mad enough not to feel scared, he thumbed through a worn notebook until he found Angelica’s number. She picked up on the second ring.

  “I’m impressed,” he said, willing his voice to sound cold. “You went to quite some lengths to secure my services.”

  There was a pause on the other end. Then, “Ben?”

  “I refused not once, not twice, but three times, Lix. Three times. I want no part of whatever you’re up to. And your own cousin? That’s low, even for you. I won’t do it.”

  “Yes, you will. You know you will. For Gabriel’s sake. We both know my aunt is not a forgiving woman.”

  “Your aunt hates you. She cut you off. Why would she listen to you?” But it was all bluff. Of course the Baroness would listen to Lix. Blood was blood, after all. And Ben was the son of Court-executed traitors, a heartbeat away from a sentence of his own.

  “Look, I need you, Ben. You’re the best combat spell-caster I know. And this is a big one.” Lix’s voice grew brasher, more confident. “This is the deal, this is how it’s going to work. You do the job and then I trash the photos. Every single one. No backup anywhere, no copies, nothing. No bullshit.”

  “What’s the job?”

  “A vault. Heavily warded. Magical item inside, big one; big buyer, too. I’ll fill you in when we meet in person.”

  “So who else is in?”

  “All of the old gang. Gareth for shields, May for wards and hexes. Me. I have a pixie for site control, and I’m interviewing a cat-burglar tomorrow morning. A werewolf, supposed to be top of her game. The Saint recommended her.”

  “When do we meet?”

  “If all goes well with the girl, we meet on Monday night. Gareth’s place. I’ll text you. I’ll use the Danbury codes, for old times’ sake.”

  “There is no ‘old times’,” Ben said harshly. “I’m done with all that.” He pushed his glasses back up his nose and forced himself to take a deep breath. “One more time, one time only. You destroy the photos, and you never, ever mess with your cousin again. You even look at him the wrong way, I’ll spell your insides so you choke on your own guts, and the Covenant be damned.”

  There was a sudden silence on the other side. Then Lix gave a shaky laugh. “Oh come on, you and me, working together again. How bad can it be? It’ll be fun, Ben. And a deal’s a deal. There’s no need to go all death-threat on me. Right?”

  “I meant what I said, Lix,” Ben said, and then he hung up on her and wrapped his arms around his body. He stared down at his ward tattoos. Damn. He had thought he was out of the game for good. The last thing he needed was for Lix to come stomping back into his life and kick everything apart.

  His temper faded away as quickly as it had come, and he returned to the sofa to stare at the scattered photos, headache pounding out a beat that backed the nagging whispers in his mind: Idiot. You’ll never get anywhere. You’re a loser. Traitor-blood. You deserve nothing. You are nothing. He told the voices to shut up and switched the TV on.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Alex

  Alex smiled at the excitement in Rose’s voice. “…So then she gave me an address and told me to be there tomorrow night. I’m in, Alex! She bought it!”

  “Well done,” he said. “Now, keep your head down, and for Heaven’s sake don’t go and act like a tourist or something. Someone might be following you. Or tracking you. You never know with witches.”

  “Do you think the rest of Lix’s gang are witches, too?”

  “I think it’s likely. They don’t usually work well with other preternaturals.”

  “Oh, by the way,” she said, “I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s the Saint? I don’t remember that shade of aura.”

  “He’s a goblin. A full-blood, not a part-blood like Marla. Remember Marla from the safe house? They’re distant cousins. That’s why he works with us, occasionally.”

  “Huh. Goblin.” There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and then Rose said goodbye and hung up. Not Rose, he reminded himself. Raze, now.

  There was a knock on the door. Alex opened it and found them all gathered outside: Ash and Del, Daniel, Camille. He ushered them into his office. “Come on in, sit. I have coffee brewing, does anyone want a cup?”

  They made small talk as he set coffee and mugs on the table, and passed around sugar and creamer. Finally they were all settled and watching him expectantly.

  “Right. Thanks for coming,” he said, reaching for a pile of papers, each with a large, official-looking seal. “I’ve finally received all the court orders for the Mid-Winter Moot on the weekend. Camille, here’s your summons. You have a hearing before the Court of the Covenant on Saturday morning. They’ve received your plea for independence, and this will be your chance to state your case before the Barons. Deacon’s speaking on your behalf, right?”

  Ash looked up at the mention of his father, a flash of hurt twisting his face, gone in an instant. Alex winced inwardly. He’d hoped that by bringing Ash to Toronto and giving him some space, he would give the two angel-bloods time to heal the mess their relationship had become. But clearly they still had a lot to work through.

  Camille was scanning her letter. “Yes, it all looks correct. ‘Camille Darkwing, plaintiff, blah, blah, blah. James Aaron Deacon, witness, etc.’ Saturday morning at eight! That’s pretty early, isn’t it? What does that mean?”

  “It means they’re not losing any sleep over your petition. You probably won’t even have full Court attendance, so you’ll have to hope you get some sympathetic Barons. Perhaps you should try and get Reis on your side. Try to talk to her during the Friday night gala ball. The Baroness is a snake, and she hates the Guild, but she hates the demons even more. She could be a good ally, if she thought she was hurting Shade.”

  Camille was still staring at her letter. “Hmm, I’ll need all the help I can get. Shade will be there, and I see Étienne’s been summoned.”

  Alex explained to Del and Ash, “Étienne Darkwing was Camille’s Liege Lord before she transferred to Shade’s pack. He was the one who Gifted her, back in the nineteen-thirties if I remember correctly.”

  “Nineteen thirty-two,” Camille added. “I’m a Great Depression girl. The Wall Street crash, you know? It was a good time to be a demon. Lots of shady criminal dealings going on at the back of jazz clubs…” She set her letter down on the table. “I wonder if Jude will be there? He’s Master of Shade’s Hunt, a
fter all. Technically I owe him allegiance, although I never pledged to him when he took over.”

  Daniel, quiet until now, quirked an eyebrow. “Jude Raven? He’s a slippery one, Camille. Watch out.”

  “I know,” said Camille. “But I need to meet with him at some point, anyway. He still holds all the funds he stole from my bank accounts last summer. I’m not optimistic about getting anything back, but it’s worth a try. Perhaps I can arrange to talk to him before the Moot.”

  “Perhaps,” Alex agreed. “All right. The other affair is, of course, Del’s case. This one’s the headliner event. Saturday, five pm. We can expect a full Court of Barons as well as a packed audience. Everyone will want to see the famous Heart Blade of legend. You’ll have to present it, Del.”

  He picked up a document from the table and read, “The half-demon known as Adeline Raven will attend the Mid-Winter Moot in order that her preternatural standing be determined, since the Guild of Saint Peter claims she is no longer demonkind. Following this, the Court will hear the East Coast Hunt and determine whether they are owed a claim upon Adeline.”

  Alex looked up. Del’s face was pinched with worry as she rubbed the scarred letters on her arm with her thumb. Ash had his arm around her, his face serious. Alex went back to reading. “‘Witnesses standing for Adeline Raven: Alexander of York and James Asher Deacon.’ Ash, you’ll have to recount the events of the night Del summoned the Heart Blade. You’ll be expected to tell the Court about how her aura changed, and about her new healing abilities. We’ll work on your deposition together.”

  “Who’s going to be a witness for the pack?” asked Del. “Diana and Theo were the only two others who were there that night, and they’re both dead.” She was still rubbing her scars, and Alex watched Ash reach over and gently take her hand. The death of her former pack sister Diana was clearly still a difficult subject.

  “Jude will probably speak for the pack,” answered Alex. “Or Shade herself. They have a lawful right to you, Del. You were made demonkind by Shade; she’s your Liege Lady by Covenant law. It’s up to us to plead your independence. But remember: most of the other Barons won’t want the Heart Blade under Shade’s thumb. I think we can hope for a good outcome.”

  Alex took a sip of his coffee and made a face. It had gone cold. “So, here are the plans for next weekend. We’ll arrive in the Adirondacks as a delegation on Thursday night. That should give us time to settle in, finish our preparations, and do some liaising on Friday throughout the day. Del, this is your chance to visit the library. The Court headquarters hold records that predate the Covenant itself. If there’s anything on Rowan, that’s where you’ll find it.

  “Friday night is the gala ball. It’s a formal affair, as you all know. By now you should all have appropriate outfits, right? Saturday starts early with Camille’s case. The opening ceremony is at ten in the morning, and that’s when Daniel gets sworn in.” Alex smiled at his former squire, his once-dark hair now sprinkled through with gray. “Are you ready to become the Court’s first ever human ambassador?”

  “Not really,” Daniel replied dryly. “Honestly, Alex, I don’t know how you talked me into this. When I said I was ready for a desk job, I didn’t exactly have this in mind.”

  “You’ll be great at it,” Alex answered. “And it’s about time the humans had proper representation at Court.” He turned to Ash. “You and Del are up at five. Saturday night is the banquet. Fancy food and lots of speeches. And then on Sunday morning, the sentinels have their swearing-in ceremony. Are you going to be present for that?”

  “I have to be.” Ash’s voice was grim, and Alex felt sorry for the boy. If Ash hadn’t met Del and been swept up in the whole Heart Blade affair, he’d be graduating now as a full sentinel of the New England Chapter. He’d make his blood oath, and take on the mantle of Michael’s chosen.

  Ash was holding on to Del’s hand as if her fingers were all that kept him from drowning. “I have to be there,” he repeated. “I was supposed to be confirmed as Scion-in-waiting, next in line to lead after my dad. Now I have to officially pass the title to my cousin Jordan. I have to formally declare I’m no longer a member of the Chapter.”

  Del turned to him, a fierce look on her face. “I’ll be there, Ash. You won’t have to do this alone. We’ll all be there. You’re Guild, now.”

  “I know.” Ash’s voice was low, and he dipped his forehead, setting it against hers. The room was quiet for a moment, and then Daniel broke the hush, smiling to lighten the heavy mood that had settled upon the room.

  “Alex, are we done? Because I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready for lunch.” He stood up, stretching. “Anyone coming?”

  “You go ahead,” said Alex. “I need a moment with Camille.” He waited for everyone to leave before turning to her. “Have you given thought to what happens after the Moot?”

  “If I win at Court, I’m still happy to work with the Guild,” she said. “It’s been a good partnership.”

  “And if things don’t go your way?” asked Alex. “If you’re declared a rogue, a blood traitor to demonkind?”

  “Then I suppose I’ll have to take advantage of your hospitality a little longer. Considering I’ll be dealing with the very real issue of death threats and probably a sentinel’s sentence on my head.” Her tone of voice was light-hearted, but her eyes were serious. She knew this wasn’t a joking matter.

  “You’re welcome to stay, you know that. If things go sour, we’ll formally extend Sanctuary. But it’ll mean you’ll have to watch your step when you’re away from the Chapterhouse.”

  Camille gave a small huff of amusement. “I’ll have to watch my step no matter what. Forever. Even if the Court approves my petition. My name went on the demon hit list the minute I walked away from my pack. You know that. I know that. I have no illusions about it. I knew what I was getting into.” She hesitated. “Uh…”

  Alex cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

  “If my petition gets turned down, I’m going to need an actual job. Jude took everything I owned, even my condo, and I’m completely and absolutely broke. If the Court accepts my proposition, hopefully I’ll get my assets back. But even then, there’s a chance they’ll allow him to keep it all, since I was under pack command at the time.”

  “I’m sure we can find something for you. You’ve been a great help already, working with Deacon on John Shepherd’s case. We’ll make it official, if you like: permanent employment by the Guild of Saint Peter.”

  “Thanks, Alex. I won’t forget this. Let’s see how the Moot goes, and then we’ll talk it over.”

  Alex saw her out, smiling at the petite blonde demon. But inside, he was cold, the heavy mantle of duty weighing him down. One more charge to care for, one more life in his hands. Every one of them trusting, demanding, wanting. And all he could think of were the failures, the ones he could not save. He bowed his head and whispered a hasty prayer that he would not be found lacking again.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Ben

  Ben stood outside the street entrance to Gareth’s crappy walk-up, worrying at a newly-split knuckle with his thumb. He could still back out. He had options, right? Everyone had options. There had to be another way. He forced himself to stop picking at the scab and sighed heavily, his breath a white cloud in the cold evening air. No, there was no other way. He knew Lix all too well; knew that ruthless streak of hers that would stop at nothing. It was the reason they’d had that massive fight a year ago, when he’d walked out and never returned. She wouldn’t let go of this, not now that she had him where she wanted him.

  Across the street, a gaggle of younger teens eyed him up, evidently trying to decide if he was worth harassing. They didn’t worry him, but Gareth wouldn’t thank him for getting into a fight with his neighbors. He steeled himself and rang the doorbell.

  “Identify yourself,” Gareth’s voice boomed out, with an excruciatingly bad fake Russian accent.

  “Let me in, you idiot. It’s freezing ou
t here on this dump of a street you call home.”

  “Ben?” There was a startled laugh over the intercom. “You actually came! Damn. I owe Lix ten bucks.” The Russian accent returned as the street door buzzed open. “Enter, friend. Tonight we drink vodka like brothers!”

  Ben made his way up the creaking stairs, avoiding the suspiciously dark stain on the second floor. He caught himself dragging his steps, and grimaced. There was no putting this off — he might as well get a move on. He quickened his pace and soon reached the fourth floor to find Gareth waiting in his doorway. He looked exactly the same: short and stocky, dark hair buzzed down to the scalp. As soon as Ben got close he peeled himself off the doorframe and wrapped Ben in a hug.

  “Welcome, brother. Please to enter my domain.”

  Ben grinned. Gareth was such a loon. “Hey, easy with the bone-crushing. Don’t break the goods that Lix paid for so dearly.” He shoved Gareth off him and shook his head. “And what’s with the accent? This isn’t a Bond movie.”

  Gareth shrugged. “Helps liven things up. And it pisses Lix off. I missed you, Benjy. What’s with the disappearing act, anyway? You were the best in the biz.”

  “I missed you too,” Ben replied, his voice quiet. “And you know why I quit. I’m straight now, living an honest life.”

  “Straight. That’s new. Do your boyfriends know?” Gareth winked, and Ben couldn’t help laughing as he flipped him off and pushed past into the apartment. Gareth was the closest thing Ben had to family. He’d been a big brother in those dark days when Ben had found himself on the streets, outcast. Ben had been fourteen when they’d met, Gareth eighteen. It could have been some modern Oliver Twist tale, with Gareth playing Fagin to his motley collection of underlings. Except it had never been like that, and anyway, by the time Ben arrived, Lix was firmly in charge. She was Ben’s age, but being young had never stopped her. The ideas were hers, the jobs hers, too. It worked, and for a while Ben had been almost happy.