“I’m not here to play games,” Alex said softly. “I want to know who ordered the Heart Bearer’s death.”
“What, you want answers, just like that? No foreplay? You’re not even going to take me out to dinner first?” Serren mimed shock, one wrist splayed dramatically against his head.
Alex ignored the nix. “Was it Baroness Reis? What were her exact orders?”
“You’re no fun,” Serren said with a pout. “The girl was boring, and so are you.”
In one swift movement Alex locked the bathroom door and spun forward, grabbing the nix by the throat. He bared his teeth, flashing his fangs. “You want fun? Is this interesting enough for you, Your Highness?”
Serren’s gaze flickered between Alex’s teeth and his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said.
“Try me,” Alex hissed. “Your mother has twelve sons and you are her least favorite. She may even thank me.”
Something cold and calculating flashed across Serren’s features, and then his face relaxed. He smiled, wide-eyed, and Alex heard the sound of waves on a beach. He tightened his grip, and the nix choked. The smell of salt faded.
“I said, no games,” Alex snarled. “I’m not falling for your siren tricks.” He drew nearer, letting his teeth lightly graze the nix’s jaw without drawing blood. “Do you know how old I am? And how thirsty?”
Serren gulped. “Let me go,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “It was the Baroness, okay? Reis.”
Alex released him. “Little princes who play at murder should be prepared for consequences. What were her orders, Serren?”
“To get rid of the girl. To make it look like an accident. She didn’t say why, if that’s what you’re asking. Maybe my mother knows, maybe she doesn’t. I don’t get told anything but ‘Do this, Serren. Do that.’”
He looked up at Alex petulantly, his lower lip trembling as if he were about to cry. Alex had to suppress the very real urge to roll his eyes. Merfolk could be so volatile, their moods as changing as the sea they lived in.
“We’re done,” he told the nix, getting to his feet. “Stay away from the Heart Bearer. Next time, I’ll be a lot less gentle.”
He unlocked the door and left the bathroom. The werewolf was leaning against a wall, looking bored. Alex retrieved Redemption and paused, one foot in the hallway.
“You’re either a terrible bodyguard, or you hate the brat,” he told the werewolf conversationally. And then he walked off, smirking at the look of surprise on the werewolf’s face.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Camille
Rogue. Rogue. Rogue. Her heart was beating too fast, too loud. It had been ever since the morning. Since her petition had been inexorably dismissed.
Her hearing had been a complete farce. She’d tried to talk to Baroness Reis the day before, but had been coldly shrugged off. Clearly, whatever behind-the-scenes war Reis had with Shade, Camille’s own battle wasn’t one that interested her. Jude, another one she’d hoped to reason with, wasn’t even at the Moot. Her Court appearance was only graced by three Barons, one of them Shade herself. It had been a disaster from start to finish.
She could still hear the emotionless monotone of the clerk as he read the formal results. “The Court of the Covenant denies the petition for independence presented by Camille Darkwing, and declares her to be henceforth a packless rogue, to be dealt with as Covenant justice deems fit.”
Alex had immediately stepped in. “The Guild of Saint Peter offers Camille Darkwing a permanent position among its ranks and extends a lifetime offer of Sanctuary.”
Officially, Camille was now Guild. Unofficially, she’d always be considered a rogue demon. She was sure the price on her head had just gone up considerably. It wasn’t entirely unexpected; after all, she had attempted to overthrow centuries of tradition. Half-demons were not allowed to be independent. They answered to their Liege Lord or Lady, and that was the end of things. It had been a risk, but one she had been willing to take. And now, Camille would be forever an outcast. So be it. She tossed her golden hair and straightened her back a little, trying to ignore her pounding heart and the cold in her stomach as she forced herself back to the present.
The central Court hearing chamber was packed solid, the rainbow of preternatural auras in the viewer seats lending a festive air to the solemnity below. Across the room her creator, Étienne, met her gaze. She’d heard he’d set up the bounty on her head himself, backed by Shade. He dipped his head in a mock bow, which Camille didn’t acknowledge.
Beside her, Deacon leaned forward, intent on his son. Dressed in his ceremonial surcoat, sword at his side, Ash was finishing up his deposition. He stepped down from the witness stand and bowed to the Court as Del took his place.
All around, there was an outbreak of rustling and whispers. This was the moment everyone had been waiting for. The Court Barons approached the stand, examining Del’s new aura up close as well as her eyes — all traces of demon silver completely gone. They retreated a few steps, and the High Baron, Cornell Winslow, spoke.
“Adeline Raven, once half-demon and Gifted by Baroness Shade Raven, we formally acknowledge your change in aura and your new preternatural status as non-demon.”
As he spoke, Camille watched Shade’s face. She remained impassive, but Camille saw her cheek give the tiniest twitch. She knew her former Liege well enough to know she was furious. But Alex had been right all along; there was no way the other Court barons were going to let Shade have control over the Heart Bearer. In fact, Baroness Livia Reis looked openly triumphant.
The whispers that had begun with the High Baron’s words died down suddenly. Camille blinked. What had she missed while she was focusing on Shade? Deacon, as if sensing her distraction, murmured, “They’ve asked Del to present the Heart Blade.”
Del stepped off the witness stand and walked to the very center of the chamber. Camille couldn’t help a small smile. The kid was learning. She might not like being the center of attention, but she was doing a fine job nonetheless. An expectant hush fell all around. Del placed her hand over her heart, as Camille herself had done so many times to draw her own soul blade. But the sword that Del pulled from her chest wasn’t the silver of a demon’s soul blade, but something entirely different.
Camille had seen Del draw the Heart a couple of times, but the sight never ceased to fill her with wonder. The sword was shaped like a Roman spatha. It had a straight-edged blade with grooves cut down the middle, and a simple carved hilt with no crosspiece. It glowed with a pale silver-green light that started soft, but grew in sweetness and strength until it was almost blinding in its beauty.
Del stood quietly, the Heart Blade held high, and no one in the chamber could have doubted what it was. Beholding the Heart Blade wasn’t a purely visual experience, it went beyond that. It tugged at something inside Camille, cajoling and enticing, promising her a better world, a better version of herself. Whispering to her, saying, You, too, are beautiful. Just follow your heart. And by the rapt faces around her, everyone here felt the same.
This wasn’t the Heart Blade she’d seen before, at the Chapterhouse. It had been lovely. Moving, even. But this, this was something else. This was the Heart Blade in its full glory, all its power unleashed and out in the open for everyone to see. And when Del finally opened her fingers and let the Heart Blade tumble from her grip to shimmer out, the elegant Court chamber appeared dark and dingy, its crystal chandeliers no match for the otherworldly beauty of the Blade.
There was a collective sigh of frustration when the Heart Blade winked out, and then silence. Even the Court barons were silent, all eyes on Del, who still shone faintly where the sword’s light clung to her body. Finally, the High Baron summoned his peers and there was a hushed conversation among them.
The High Baron turned to the gathered audience. “I think there can be no doubt that this is, indeed, the fabled Heart Blade. The Court of the Covenant declares that Adeline — formerly Raven — shall be henceforth known as the Heart Bearer, and qualified as an independe
nt individual who shall belong to no pack or organization, but only to herself.”
Beside her, Deacon smirked. Camille knew that was the baron’s way of saying that Shade couldn’t claim Del. But then, neither could the Guild. It didn’t stop her from deciding to live at the Chapterhouse, though. All it did was stop her from officially becoming one of the Guild’s members. Camille was happy for Del, even if this was exactly the independence she had wanted for herself and been denied.
The hearing wound to an end with a brief discussion of Del’s possible nature, now that she was clearly no longer a half-demon. The barons agreed that, for now, her preternatural title would simply be Blade Bearer. They left unsaid what everyone else was thinking: if one Blade Bearer had stepped forward, then according to legend, the others would soon follow. Del’s new title left room for three more Blade wielders to join her.
Del was escorted from the chamber through a back door by Ash, and Camille and Deacon went to find Alex and meet up with them in the private space reserved for Court barons and their guests. Dan was there, too, looking a little overwhelmed with his new badge of office pinned to his chest — a glittering medallion that proclaimed his ambassadorial status as official representative of the human race.
There was a small reception for the Heart Bearer. Camille sipped a champagne cocktail, taking care not to drink too much. She couldn’t afford to cloud her mind and judgment. At the other side of the room, she felt Shade’s eyes upon her, and studiously kept her own on Alex, who was talking animatedly to the sentinels’ Baron, Gerald Amstell. She’d rather avoid a public confrontation with her former Liege Lady, if possible.
Del looked exhausted, and when she made her excuses and left, Ash in tow, Camille took the opportunity to slip out after them, following them down a side hallway and out of sight of the hearing chamber. They hadn’t noticed her leaving, and she caught the tail end of their conversation as they moved into an even quieter hallway.
“—have to find her, Ash. She knows something about Rowan.”
“I still think the whole thing is suspicious. If she saved you, why didn’t she stick around? Who says she didn’t set you up in the first place? I just wish you’d told me before that you were meeti—”
Del turned, cutting him off. “Camille. I didn’t see you there,” she said politely, though Camille could see she wanted to be left alone.
Not happening, she thought. Not on my watch. It was too dangerous to leave the Heart Bearer and a novice knight wandering around by themselves. Out loud, she said, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing. If you’re looking for someone, maybe I can help? I’ve been to these things before, and I know a lot of people in the preternatural community.”
Del hesitated. Then she drew Camille and Ash into a sort of seating alcove with armchairs and a big floor-to-ceiling window that must have had a gorgeous view of the grounds in daylight. Now, however, the early winter dark had long settled in.
“Yesterday, when I almost drowned? Someone saved me. A young witch, about my age, maybe a little older. She’s called Elana. I don’t know which coven she’s from. She told me to find her. She knows something about this.” Del gestured at her arm, with the scarred letters Camille knew she’d carved herself before being Gifted Shade’s blood.
“Are you sure it’s not a trap of some sort?” Camille asked.
Ash opened his mouth to speak, but Del hushed him with a hand on his arm. “There’s a chance it is a trap. I know that. But I still need to talk to her. There’s a poem — she said the first lines. And I knew it. I recognized it. Shade took my memories when she turned me into a half-demon, and I want them back. Not just my memories from being human. There are things I know that go way back to Rowan, whoever she was. I’m sure of it. And at the moment, Elana is the only clue I have.”
Camille knew the hunger for an identity. She’d felt it herself. She was one of the lucky ones; she had managed to stumble upon her own lost human identity. But for a long time she’d ached for the missing memories. Now, the decades had passed and filled her with new ones. But for a youngster like Del, recently turned, the hunger to know could be overwhelming.
“I understand wanting to find out who you were before Shade Gifted you,” she began cautiously, eyeing Del as if she were some frightened animal who might bolt. But Del interrupted her.
“You’re not listening. This is about more than my past life. This is about Rowan. I’m connected to her, whoever she was. Elana called me Rowan, Camille. And last summer, when Ash was being tortured by those witches who kidnapped us, they mentioned I was under an ancient blood curse…” Del’s voice choked off in a growl of frustration.
“Elana. Fine, if she’s that important, I’ll help you find her. What does she look like? Ash, did you see her, too?”
Ash shook his head. “She danced with Del at the ball, but I didn’t notice her. And later, by the pool, I… I was too late. By the time I arrived, Elana had left.”
“Describe her,” Camille said. “The witch. I don’t recognize the name, but I may have seen her around.”
“You don’t have to describe me, Rowan.” There was a shimmer of magic and a witch stepped out of thin air. She waved a hand. “Concealment spell. I apologize for using it, but I’ve been trying to get Rowan alone. An impossible feat, apparently. Her knight is very dedicated.”
Camille had drawn her soul blade in one smooth move as soon as the witch materialized, pushing Del back. The witch smiled. “I’m flattered, but I’m really no danger to your Heart Bearer. I’m Elana, by the way.”
“Your coven?” Camille said tightly, without releasing her sword. Ash had drawn his own by now, and together they blocked the witch’s way.
“I’d rather not say.” Elana’s pretty mouth twitched in amusement. “You can understand, right? I’m not acting under my coven’s consent or knowledge.”
“Did you set me up, at the pool? Are you working with Serren, with Reis?” Del’s mouth was a hard, straight line, her hands twisted in the hem of her shirt.
“No. Of course not.” Either the horror on Elana’s face was real, or she was a damn good actress. Camille glanced over at Ash.
“Not a lie,” he confirmed.
“I’m not lying,” said Elana. “Your angel knight will tell you if I do. One of Reis’ people must have heard us talking and set the nix on you. I was delayed leaving the ball. One of her entourage was going on and on about setting up an inter-coven training program for young witches, and he wouldn’t shut up about it. Now, I see it was on purpose. They were obviously stalling me. I would never betray you like that. Far from it, in fact. I represent an independent group that has followed Rowan over the centuries. We have preternaturals of all kinds among our numbers, and a few humans, too.”
“Following? What for?” Del asked in a quiet voice, almost a whisper. “And why do you keep calling me Rowan?”
“That’s your name,” Elana answered. “Your rightful name. Though with each cycle you gain a new one. Shade found you fast this time, before we did. That was a masterstroke of hers, Gifting you. Removing your memories. It could have been the end of it all, if you hadn’t left yourself a clue.” Elana pointed at Del’s arm.
Del held up a hand. “Okay. Slow down. Cycle? I don’t understand. What cycle?”
Elana frowned at Del as if she were puzzled by her bemusement. She opened her mouth to answer, but Camille was quicker.
“Cycle of rebirth. That’s what you’re talking about, right? Del doesn’t just have Rowan’s memories locked away somewhere inside. Del is Rowan.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Ben
Another brush with one of the vault’s clay creatures, and a close encounter with a nasty stinging hex, had left them battered and exhausted. May’s arms were a reddened mess from the hex, which she had carefully countered and picked apart, one strand at a time. Raze had a cut on the side of her head from where the golem — a vast gorilla-like creature this time — had caught her in a glancing blow, sending
her flying. Her cheek was darkening fast, the bruise creeping across her tawny skin and deepening the circles of exhaustion under her eyes. Lix was limping.
Ben himself was no better, cradling his left arm where the golem had caught it. He slid his hand under his sleeve and touched the health ward tattooed on his arm, channeling power into it. It heated up, and he could feel some of the pain leaching away. He was careful not to feed the ward too much; it was greedy, and would drink all of his magic if he allowed it, leaving him healed, but temporarily drained.
They’d only had snatches of sleep since they’d entered the vault — just a couple of hours of rest here and there. According to the alexandrite, it was Saturday night.
On the horizon, the display cabinets and the sword were finally visible, halfway up a steep cliff. Lix consulted the gemstone again. “We’re literally right in front of the sword,” she said, longing in her voice. She held an arm out. “I’d be able to touch it if it wasn’t for the damn space warp. Come on, we have to keep going.”
“Half a million dollars, half a million dollars…” chanted May under her breath.
“Whatever it takes to keep you moving,” Lix answered wearily. “Personally, I’m ready to kill the woman. Slowly. Should have made her pay double.”
Ben stopped, eyes wide. Lix was so tired she never even noticed her slip-up. Ben reached out and grabbed her shoulder. “You do know who the client is.”
Lix snatched her body away, glaring. “Maybe I do. So?”
“So, I’m not going one more step until you tell me who it is.” He crossed his arms, standing tall to glower down at Lix. It was a stupid, childish threat. There was no way that Ben was making it out of here alone, without the alexandrite to guide him. But Lix needed him. Or his magic, at least.
She threw her hands up in exasperation. “You’re so annoying. What, are you five now? You want to know who it is that badly? Fine. It’s my aunt. There. Happy?”
Night Blade: Blade Hunt Chronicles Book Two Page 20