Knights Magica: An Urban Fantasy (Rosie O'Grady's Paranormal Bar and Grill Book 5)

by BR Kingsolver

  “How can you do that? I’m needed where I am.”

  “I can fix it. I can rescind the transfer of the woman who was there before you.”

  “Where would I live?”

  “There is a flat. It’s very nice.”

  He had taken the bait, time to set the hook. I placed the ring against his lips and said the final Word.

  “And I get a promotion to chevalier?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t change expression or move.

  “Mmmm.” I licked my lips in delight. “And you want me to monitor security at Stonehenge?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I can start this week?”

  “Yes.”

  I threw a leg over him and straddled his chest, staring into his eyes. “Can you extend the disruption by another week?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll take the job.” He still hadn’t reacted at all to our conversation. I took a shower alone and dressed, then allowed him to take control of himself again.

  The first things I instructed Muller to do after returning to Salisbury from our tryst were to recall my predecessor from London and start the paperwork for my transfer. I left him to his bureaucratic tasks and went to lunch with Karl.

  I detailed my date to Karl while munching on fish and chips in a pub. He didn’t say a word at first but simply stared at me. After a while he blurted out, “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. You’re a genius. Between you and Oriel’s friend, I not only pulled off my plan, but remained virgo intacta and Muller’s bound to me.” I held up my hand and touched the ring. “Better than a love spell. He’s totally in thrall.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  I winked at him. “Isn’t it, though? Not as bad as sacrificing virgins, but a total breach of magical ethics. Luckily, the Fae don’t subscribe to our concept of ethics.”

  He shook his head. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”

  “Ain’t that the truth? Isn’t there some old saying about all’s fair in love and war? If that’s the case, then mixing the two has to be twice as effective. I just wish I could leave some kind of magical nuclear bomb here when I’m done. These bastards deserve to burn in the deepest pit in hell.”

  I leaned forward, my arms on the table. “Do you know how many unmarked graves—fresh graves—are in that part of the cemetery? Think about how many times they’ve screwed up the ley lines over the past six months. Every time the ley lines throw up, you’re feeling the death throes of a young girl. And that’s only a tiny fraction of the people they’ve killed all over the world.”

  “You’re right, this is a war. So, they’re going to bring that sergeant you replaced back from London?”

  “Yeah. I’ll bet she’s going to be pissed. There’s nothing to do in this place. Or maybe she has a taste for blood magic and screwing hypocritical upper-caste Knights, in which case, she’s welcome to it.”

  Chapter 23

  Muller took me to my new digs the following morning. The apartment, or flat, where he kept his mistresses was about two blocks from his home. It was on what Europeans called the second floor—third floor to an American—and had two bedrooms, a kitchen, a lounge, a large bathroom, a small utility room with a linen closet and a washer-dryer, and a balcony overlooking a park. It was somewhat larger than my place in Westport and furnished a lot nicer. The walls were decorated with English landscapes, and the dishes all matched.

  I took one look at the king-sized bed and resolved to burn the bedclothes before buying a rubber mattress cover and new bedding. Even if I didn’t plan to have sex on that bed, I’d be sleeping on it and probably lying on it naked a few times. I had no idea how many mistresses Muller had lodged there, or how recently, but a thorough scrubbing of the whole flat was definitely on the agenda.

  Luckily, the binding spell was good for more than world-changing machinations. I asked Muller for money to spruce up the place a little, and he gave it to me. He also gave me money to stock the larder and the fridge—with strict orders as to the kind of wine I should get—and to buy some clothes to wear when I entertained him. I knew what to get to go out, but figured I’d have to shop around to find sexy lingerie in a town run by the Church.

  As soon as he left to go for a meeting, I stripped all the linens, towels, and other more personal items from the flat. They all went into an incinerator in the back of the building. Then I went shopping. By the time I finished, I had to call a taxi to haul it all to the flat.

  Muller’s excuse for being gone when he took me to dinner and bed had been a meeting with an operative. I had a chuckle over that. He didn’t know how true his excuse was. He had meetings and formal dinners the following two days and nights. So, I had at least two nights and two days on my own. Unfortunately, Oriel had issues with sneaking out at night. Priests were supposed to be priestly, for some reason. Besides, he had his own snooping to do and Fae contacts to meet.

  I wondered what kind of trouble I could get in with my charms. Muller was on the lowest rung of the command elite. Karl had shown me the organization and assignment charts for the Salisbury command. Karl outranked Muller, and there were at least six marshals, three seneschals, and a commander above Karl’s rank of chaplain in Salisbury’s command hierarchy.

  At Muller’s level, he was one of nine under-marshals. The next step down were field commanders, standard-bearers such as Monica Dal Corso. I had counted at least forty of them, and they were the most numerous rank at the pub Muller had taken me to on our first date. Next were the chevaliers, or company captains, and they were as numerous as flies.

  I, as a sergeant, was at the top of the cannon fodder ranks, and it appeared that, as a woman, my purpose was to be preyed upon by both the resistance and the officers above me. No wonder Muller was pissed at my would-be rapists. They were poaching.

  Makeup was forbidden when women were on duty. But one of the things I had noticed in Salisbury was that about a quarter of the women on the streets in Knights’ uniforms wore makeup, and probably three-quarters of them wore makeup at night in the pubs.

  So, I put on my best uniform, along with light makeup, and went out looking for Josh and Ian. I figured if I could find them, I could have a good time like a real woman on leave might have. And if I didn’t find them, I could at least have fun drinking and flirting.

  Eating dinner alone in a pub as a woman always presented a set of challenges. I knew from my experience as a bartender that the safest place to eat was at the bar. So, I plunked my butt down on a barstool and asked for a beer and a shot and a menu.

  “On leave?” the bartender asked as he set my drinks in front of me and handed me a menu.

  “Yeah. Stationed out at Stonehenge.”

  “Haven’t seen you in before.”

  “I’ve been here only a few weeks. I was in Liverpool before.” I surveyed the menu and ordered. The bartender went to take care of a drink order from another customer, then came back.

  “I don’t mean to be rude,” I said, “but is there anything to do in this town except drink?”

  “We have a singer three nights a week. There’s a nightclub that has karaoke and a pub quiz night. Some of the other pubs have music.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Anyplace to dance?”

  “Oh, yeah, the Abby. Occasionally they have a band, but usually it’s a DJ.” He bit his lip and studied me, as though he was deciding something. “I’m not sure you’re dressed for that, though.”

  I looked down at my uniform. “They have a dress code?”

  “Unwritten. Look, the Abby is a meat market, and no offense intended, but that uniform really isn’t all that appealing. Most people there are looking for something a little more feminine. Besides, they wouldn’t let you in wearing that sword, and I’m not sure you’re safe around town at night without it.”

  Nodding, I said, “Thanks for the tip. No offense taken. Just out of curiosity, what do the locals think about the Universal Church taking over here? The cathedral wasn’t Universalist
before, was it?”

  He shook his head. “No, it wasn’t, and only about twenty percent of the people here were Universalist. There are several Universal churches in the area. But most of the people I know—especially young people—aren’t very religious. The Church and the Knights clashed with the local authorities, and then the local authorities were gone. Now everything is run by the Church and the Knights, and most people aren’t very happy about that.”

  “Got it.”

  He retrieved my food from the kitchen and moved off to take care of other customers. I was about half finished with my meal when a man sat down beside me.

  “Long time, no see. I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”

  I turned to see Josh with a big grin on his face, and I was so pleased at seeing a familiar face that I leaned over and hugged him.

  “It’s good to see you,” I said, signaling to the bartender. “What are you drinking?”

  The bartender came over, and Josh gave his order, then said, “Haven’t seen you since Liverpool. Are you on leave?”

  When the bartender went away again, Josh leaned close. “Ian and I heard you were in town. Finish up here, and we’ll go find him.”

  The bartender gave me a wink when we paid up, and then we headed up the street. A block along, three Knights came out of a pub and almost ran into us. The three lovelorn assholes who had threatened to rape me the day I met Muller. One of the corporals saw me, and I saw that he recognized me.

  “Hey, sweet cheeks. Lookin for some fun tonight?”

  I took hold of Josh’s arm and muttered, “These assholes tried to rape me last week. Let’s get out of here if we can.”

  Josh was as large as the blond sergeant and larger than the other two. He smiled. “She’s already got more than she can handle, so you boys just run along.”

  “Oh, I think you underestimate her,” the sergeant said. “I’ll bet she can ride all night.”

  They spread out to surround us. I stepped away from Josh and drew my sword, putting my back against the building next to us.

  Josh didn’t mess around with anything subtle. He shielded and combusted. Reaching out to the sergeant and grabbing his shirt before the man could shield, he punched the guy in the face. Whirling toward the other two, Josh kindled a sword of flame from his right hand.

  “You know, castration only hurts for a while, and this will cauterize the wounds, so you should be out of the hospital and singing soprano before you know it.”

  The two corporals stumbled backward and cast their personal shields. The looks of terror on their faces were almost comical. I had heard that some pyromancers could combust their shields like that, but Josh was the only one I’d ever seen do it.

  I glanced down at where the sergeant lay on the street. His shirt was on fire, and his face was a blackened, bloody ruin.

  “Josh! That’s enough! Let’s go.”

  He looked over his shoulder at me. “Okay.” Turning back to the corporals, he said, “If I ever run across you again, I won’t go easy on you like I did with your friend. Understand?” He quenched his flaming shield and held out his arm to me. I sheathed my sword, took his arm, and we walked off.

  “I hate rapists,” he growled. “Cowards.”

  I wondered if his sister had ever been raped. If so, she had never mentioned it to me. But I silently applauded his attitude.

  We found Ian at a quiet pub called the Sojourner listening to a pretty redheaded woman playing guitar and singing. When we arrived, he stood up from his seat at the bar and led us to an unoccupied booth.

  We sat down, and Ian immediately asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Josh, his face still looking like that of a man plotting murder, shook his head.

  “Josh just lit a would-be rapist on fire,” I said. “This town really isn’t safe for women walking alone at night.”

  “Were you seen?” Ian asked.

  “Maybe. It’s still early, but the light was bad, and there weren’t very many people out on the street. It’s no big deal. I know their faces and ranks, and I’ll have my new paramour take care of them.”

  “Them?”

  “Yeah. A mini rape gang. Three non-coms who drink too much and don’t have enough to do. I think a labor detail in an unattractive part of the world would be a good place for them.”

  I saw a twitch as Josh tried not to smile in spite of himself.

  “Tell me about this new paramour,” Ian said.

  I told them about Under-Marshal Muller and my plan for stealing the Heart. I also told them about the blood-magic ritual I had witnessed. I didn’t tell them about Muirgen or the charms she’d given me, but I did mention that Oriel had procured a Fae invisibility charm for me.

  “So, we’re going to have another ten days of the ley lines tasting like a sewer?” Ian asked when I finished.

  I nodded, “Afraid so,” and he scowled.

  “When is your replacement supposed to be here?” Josh asked.

  “I think by the end of the week. I’ll need to go back out to Stonehenge and retrieve the rest of my gear, but I have almost everything here already.”

  “And you’re going to be staying in the under-marshal’s flat?” Ian asked.

  “Yeah. The way I understand it, he’ll be visiting, but not staying there most nights. Like tonight and tomorrow night, he has obligations. Don’t know past then. I think I’m supposed to play it by ear and be available whenever he is.”

  “Do you have to do that?” Josh asked. The expression of concern on his face surprised me.

  “I’m okay. I’m not going to go into details, but I’m not screwing him.” I reached over, laid my hand on his, and winked at him. “Trade secrets, and the Goddess would revoke my femme fatale card if I told you. Men are easy, Josh.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

  Ian laughed also. I was sure he had some idea of the training I’d had, and the Scorpion’s reputation far exceeded the reality. Illuminati novices were never taught that chastity was a virtue, and I had never known a trainee to keep his or her virginity much past puberty. The masters—male and female—ensured that.

  “I think sleeping their way to the top is standard operating procedure for ambitious women in the Knights,” Ian said.

  “I wondered about that. The top officers don’t seem to have a problem attracting company.”

  “No, they don’t. Your boss, Standard-Bearer Dal Corso, is sleeping with Seneschal Dalviccio.”

  “Really?”

  “Yea. I heard the rumor, so I checked it out. She goes into his place a couple of evenings a week and doesn’t come out until the next morning.” He chuckled. “Not sure it’s doing her any good. One of my sources says she’s been banging him for the past two years, and she’s still a standard-bearer. He brought her to Salisbury with him and stuck her out at Stonehenge away from all the action.”

  I bit my lip while I thought about that. “They need a blood witch in charge out there. But screwing up the Heart isn’t the only spell in that grimoire. I wonder if he has any idea whether he’s coming or going.”

  I gave them the address of the flat, and Ian gave me a flip phone. I had been afraid to take one to my posting in Stonehenge as they were prohibited.

  When we parted, I asked Ian, “Where do the officers drink and pick up girls?”

  He chuckled. “There’s an upscale cocktail bar called the Plantagenet Inn. Very dark and cozy, but if you’re going to go hunting, I suggest you change clothes.”

  That was the second time I’d been told I was overdressed. I thanked him and made my way back to the flat.

  It was still early by bar-crawl standards, so I took out the LBD, spruced up my makeup a bit, and tucked a Hunter’s dagger in my purse. Then I headed out to see what kind of trouble I could get into, and hopefully, glean some useful information.

  I hit the Plantagenet Inn first. Ian had called it. It was even darker inside than it was out on the street. Once my eyes adjusted, I saw that the entire place
was small tables and booths, none seating more than four people. Beyond the front room, I saw doorways leading to two more rooms. The bar was along the left side, and short, with only eight barstools, two of them occupied. One woman and one man, both drinking alone.

  I pulled myself up on a stool, one away from the woman. She was definitely out hunting, her dress too tight, too short, and showing a lot of cleavage. Up close, I figured she was in her late thirties, and not a magic user. She glanced over at me, then went back to staring at the mirror behind the bar, a good way to watch the room.

  The bartender came over. “What are you having, sweetie?” she asked.

  “A perfect Manhattan.”

  “Coming right up,” she said with a smile.

  She mixed my drink and set it down. I laid a twenty-pound note on the bar, and when she brought me my change, I left two pounds sitting there. Her smile brightened a little.

  “New in town?”

  “Yes. A friend said this place might be to my taste.” I took a sip of my drink and smiled. “I think he was right.” Twisting in my seat, I surveyed the room. “More rooms back there?”

  “Yes, each of those doorways leads to another room, and the room on the left has another room behind it.”

  “Seems quiet.”

  “More people in the back, but generally we run a quiet establishment. Our clientele prefers it that way.”

  “Are there any bars in the back?”

  “One, in the middle room to the left. Looking for anything in particular?”

  I shrugged. “Just feeling a little lonely. I just moved down here from Liverpool, and I don’t know anyone.”

  “Knight?” she asked, and I nodded. “Try the bar in the back.”

  “Thanks,” I said, standing up and laying a five-pound note on top of the coin. I picked up my drink and my purse and headed toward the back room.

  As she suggested, that room was larger and had more people. It also had more unescorted men. The bar was the same size, and I found an empty seat.