by M. J. Scott
Fen and Holly and I made some attempt to talk after Fen had laid out the story of his deal with Martin and reported that no, he hadn’t had a chance to find out if he could see more of Ignatius. From time to time I saw Simon look at me and I knew he wished I could do for Lily what I could do for the others in my family. But Lily and I didn’t share a blood tie, or whatever bond it was that let me track my family in my head, so I couldn’t tell him where she was.
Which left me feeling useless.
Shortly after three, Lily came walking into the room as if she’d just stepped out. She wore black leather trousers and a black shirt and leather vest that made her look sleekly dangerous. Her red hair was braided and twisted around her head. She looked unhurt, her pace steady as she entered, but her expression didn’t bode well. Simon started to go toward her but didn’t get more than a few steps before Holly spoke up. “Did you find her?”
Lily wasn’t one to draw out a conversation. “Yes,” she said shortly. “She’s at Lucius’ mansion.”
Holly, Fen, and Guy winced. From which I gathered the mansion was nothing good. I ran through the list of Blood Assemblies I knew of in my head. None of them had that particular name. But if it had been Lucius’ mansion, then it was probably Ignatius Grey who held sway there now. Which meant wherever this mansion was, it was deep inside Night World territory and nowhere that anyone human would want to be taken against their will.
“Is she all right?” Fen asked, voice rasping slightly. He walked up beside Holly and took her hand.
My throat tightened. I knew what it felt like, to wait for news of a sister fallen to the Night World. Reggie, Fen, and Holly weren’t related by blood, but they’d been raised together and they regarded one another as family.
I found myself muttering a prayer in my head to whatever gods might be listening that they weren’t about to go through what Simon, Guy, and I had experienced when Edwina had died. I wouldn’t wish that pain on an enemy, let alone on people I cared about.
Lily’s face was grave, her voice soft as she answered. “She’s alive,” she said. “But they were giving her blood.”
Oh, Reggie. My heart clutched. Vampire blood was horribly dangerous for humans. The pleasures it brought were highly addictive and that addiction couldn’t be broken. Those who fell prey to the spell of it became blood-locked, mindlessly seeking more and more of what they craved and ignoring everything else—work, family, sleep, food—until they died. Or were killed by the Blood when they grew too weak and useless as entertainment. My sister, Edwina, had suffered that fate.
For a few long seconds we were all silent, equal expressions of horror marking our faces. Then everyone started talking at once.
It was Fen who shut us up with a whistle that almost made my eardrums bleed.
“I’m going after her,” he said. “No arguments.”
“How—,” Guy began.
Fen cut him off with a gesture. “I have the best chance,” Fen continued. “I can get in with Martin’s help. I look like a Krueger, I’ll blend in to a degree. Lily can come with me, to lead me to Reggie, but I’ll get her out.” He jerked his chin at Guy, who looked as though he wanted to argue, pale eyes sparking as he pressed his lips together. “Guy, you and Simon can’t go into a Blood warren. Not one that’s well within Night World borders. Not so close to the negotiations. It would play right into Ignatius’ hands.”
The muscles of Guy’s jaw tightened but he didn’t argue. The crosses inked into the backs of his hands rippled as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
Holly’s fists were clenched too. “I want to come.”
“No.” Fen’s voice was curt. Controlled. “You can help me—I’ll need some charms—but you’re staying right here where it’s safe.” He turned his head to me. “That goes for you too. Lily has the shadow and I’m . . . expendable.”
“Fen!” Holly choked.
“It’s true,” he said, turning back to her as she stood leaning against Guy. “I’m an—” He looked at Guy. “What would you call it? ‘An acceptable loss’?”
Guy nodded, still not talking.
“It’s not acceptable to me,” Holly snapped.
Fen’s expression softened a little. “I know,” he said. “But it has to be me. Believe me, I’m going to try like hell to come back in one piece.”
Holly bit her lip, obviously wanting to say more. I knew how she felt. I wanted to tell him not to go, but I’d learned well enough from Guy and Simon that the words of a female were unlikely to sway a male intent on risking his fool life. Even when the female meant something to him.
I was useful to Fen, but I didn’t want to fool myself and believe there was anything more to it than that, despite whatever hints of heat there might be between us. He wasn’t that sort of man. Not a good risk.
So why did I care so desperately that he was trying to get himself killed?
My nails curled into my palms, making the still-healing burn on the back of my hand throb a little in protest.
“How much time do you need?” Simon asked when it was clear no one else was going to protest.
“It’s too late now to organize the Kruegers,” Fen said. “I’ll go back there and talk to them, but I doubt we can move before tomorrow night at the earliest.”
Holly sucked in a breath at that. Tomorrow night. Meaning Reggie had another day in the hands of the Blood. Another day drinking vampire blood.
Another day closer to being blood-locked.
Those were the words that weren’t being said.
The truth that all of us understood. But as my mother was fond of saying, it was better to deal with one thing at a time and not borrow trouble before it arrived on your doorstep. I took a deep breath, trying to get the images of the worst-case scenario out of my head.
“What can we do to help?” I asked.
FEN
* * *
My spine crawled as I stepped out of the carriage. Not one of your brighter ideas, Fen.
Not that I had any choice in the matter. Not really. The entrance to the massive building before me was lit by several hanging gas lamps, nothing about its appearance to spark any concerns other than the knowledge that we were far within Blood territory and about to go deeper still. My instincts suggested it would be best to climb right back into the hackney and leave.
Not an option. Not if Reggie was somewhere within.
Behind me Willem grunted, and I turned to watch him and Alec, another of the Krueger guerriers, follow me down onto the cobbled forecourt. Both of them looked alert and focused, not nervous. Willem scanned the surroundings efficiently, then nodded at Alec.
“All clear,” Alec said in a low tone, and Martin’s head appeared in the carriage door. I still wasn’t entirely certain why Martin had chosen to come with us, but I hadn’t had time to try and decipher the deeper game he was playing. What mattered here and now was that he’d agreed to get me into the mansion and to help me take Reggie out. I couldn’t waste energy worrying about whether he was going to double-cross me.
Hopefully Lily’s invisible backup would be enough to get me out of hot water if the worst happened and if not, well, fuck it, at least I’d die trying.
Martin too paused a moment to assess the situation, then apparently decided he was satisfied and descended from the carriage. Willem came quickly to his side as Alec shut the door and gave instructions to the driver.
Through it all, my nerves crawled. I’d never been here before. Never ventured deep into the heart of Blood territory. In fact, I’d made it a rule in life to stay as far away from the Blood Court’s warrens—which lay beneath the grounds of this mansion—as possible.
An Assembly was one thing—being somewhat the public face of the Blood, the Assemblies had the veneer of civilization at least—but this, this was another thing entirely. Step inside the warrens and the Blood ruled.
“Fen,” Willem snapped. “You take the rear.”
I realized that Alec had taken his place on the other s
ide of Martin and all three Kruegers were staring at me impatiently. I moved into position, my hand clasped firmly over the handle of the pistol at my hip.
Me and my bright ideas.
It had taken less fast talking than I had expected to get Martin to agree to move so quickly. In the end, it was the hint that me being near Ignatius might lead to some useful visions that seemed to sway him. I didn’t fool myself that he actually cared whether Reggie lived or died.
Still, selling him on the idea without actually promising anything more than I already had had been akin to walking a high wire. One far more treacherous than any theater hall acrobat ever ventured out on.
It was only going to get more precarious as soon as we entered the warrens.
We walked toward the entrance and I focused on looking like a guerrier. For once, I was glad of the Krueger resemblance that would hopefully let me pass unnoticed. I’d strengthened it with my rarely used and somewhat unreliable powers of glamour, enough that I didn’t look exactly like myself, or so I hoped. Holly had given me a charm to help twist my scent too, so that I would pass as a Beast to the sensitive noses of the Blood and the other Beasts.
Still, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as we approached. I wondered where Lily was. Somewhere nearby, if everything was going to plan. But there was no way of knowing where. And no way of joining her in the safety of wherever it was she went when she shadowed. No changing form or substance for me.
I would have to do this as I had always done, with wit and bullshit in equal measure. Plus the old fallback of fighting dirty if it came to that.
Hopefully it would be enough.
Our little group came to a halt near the doors. Willem stepped forward to knock. The heavy brass ring rapped sharply and the door swung inward, revealing a white-clad man—one of the Trusted who served the Blood—who looked us up and down before bowing slightly to Martin and stepping back to let us enter..
No turning back now. I tightened my grip on the gun and followed the others into the warrens.
The scene inside didn’t ease my nerves. In the Assemblies some semblance of restraint was maintained in the more public areas, but here that pose had been abandoned.
I wasn’t more than twenty feet into the building before I spotted a Blood lord with his fangs buried in the neck of a scantily clad human girl through a half-open door. I steeled myself not to react, but my free hand drifted up to brush the lapel of my jacket, to check for the reassuring bump of the invisibility charm Holly had given me tucked beneath it.
The small weight of it was tangible, unlike Lily’s unseen backup. Something to focus on other than my uneven pulse. I tried to breathe slowly, aware that the Blood and the Beasts could hear my heartbeat.
I wanted a drink. But that would have to wait.
The warrens were well named. The corridors seemed endless as we followed the Trusted who’d opened the door for us through the building. The man walked quickly, pausing only to bow to the Blood we passed—those he served in the hope of one day being turned. Our pace was too fast to truly take in any distinguishing features within the building or get the route we had followed straight in my head. Without windows to orient myself to the outer world, I was rapidly becoming confused as to what direction we were heading. Down into the earth—that much was clear.
Every few turns of the hallway, there was another short flight of stairs leading down. Exactly how far beneath the surface did the place go, anyway? Lily had told me a little about the warrens beneath the mansion—after all, she’d been raised here—but her words had not painted the full picture. The walls changed from brick to old stone as we went deeper. They pressed in on me, making me yearn for open air—even the somewhat murky night sky of the City.
An overwhelming sense of “This is a terrible idea, Fen” settled more heavily on my shoulders with each step. To distract myself, I set about studying the people we passed, searching the faces of the white-haired, black-clad Blood for anyone familiar.
It was too much to hope that we might actually come across Ignatius so that I could get the proximity I required for the visions that could help the humans. No, Martin hadn’t been summoned to an audience; he was coming here on the pretense of joining the growing tide of the Night World who seemed to be throwing their fates in with Ignatius in the struggle to rule the Blood Courts and—presuming the eventual victor was as ruthless as Lucius had been—also gaining control of the Night World. Courting favor by dancing attendance on the Blood and their questionable pleasures.
In front of me, the three Beasts walked and I could tell from the subtle bristling in their postures that none of them was much happier about being here than I was.
Outside, above us somewhere, the moon was growing fatter. Most of the Beast packs spent the days before she gained her fullest stature in the relative comfort of the pack house, where their control would not be tested too strongly.
Alec and Willem were the strongest and most experienced of the Krueger guerriers. Normally I would have had no doubt that they could maintain control, but as we went deeper into the warrens, even I could smell the dark salt hints of blood hanging on the air under the other smells. Granted, Beasts didn’t usually eat humans these days, but any blood scent would be a distraction—and a temptation—right now.
Eventually our guide came to a halt outside a room with tall double doors. From Lily’s descriptions, I didn’t think this was the Blood Court’s main audience hall, but if the height of the doors was anything to go by, the room beyond was still sizable.
“Stay here,” the guide said curtly. He opened the door just wide enough for him to enter the room. From my position behind the other three Beasts, I couldn’t really see into the depths beyond. Perhaps that was just as well.
We didn’t wait long before the Trusted returned to usher us in. I kept my gaze on Willem’s back. Now was not the time to gaze around at the room like an idiot. Guerriers focused on the job, not the decor. The room was big, the walls were dark, there were other Blood and Trusted here—though not many of them—and it was hot. Fine by me. I liked the heat. Plus it provided an explanation for the nervous sweat stealing down my back.
We advanced into the room, halted when Martin halted. Willem and Alec moved out a little, flanking him, leaving me with a small space between Martin and Willem where I could see the man we faced.
Ignatius Grey. Seated on a big black chair behind a massive wooden desk. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as a slight, dark-haired woman—a Trusted, judging by her attire—stumbled away from him, looking dazed. Blood ran down her neck, dripping onto the white tunic she wore.
The Blood do not have to hurt when they feed. Apparently Ignatius was one who liked to do so. One of the other Trusted came up and ushered the girl away. Ignatius ignored them, staring instead at us, his gaze direct.
Intended to be a challenge.
I clamped down on the instinct to grab him and beat him to a pulp until he told me where Reggie was. Instead I tried to let the part of me that responded to him with a wary prickle of the hairs on the back of my neck take over. The sensible, prudent part.
Martin bowed slightly to Ignatius. Willem and Alec did not, so I stayed still. Ignatius nodded his head, an even shallower motion than Martin’s bow.
It wasn’t the most effusive of greetings. I hoped Martin would remember his manners.
Ignatius was watching Martin closely. He pulled a white handkerchief from a pocket, scrubbed at the back of his hand where the blood had smeared. “So, Alpha, have you made your decision?”
I blinked, then reached for stillness. Decision? What decision? I felt as though a gaping hole had opened in front of my feet. Martin had been keeping secrets too, it seemed. I shifted my stance a little, bracing for action.
Martin’s shoulders stiffened. “I thought I had another day.”
Ignatius frowned. “You have had almost two weeks. It is not that difficult a choice.”
My jaw tightened. Would one of them
just come out and say what it was that they were talking about? The expressions of the other Blood around Ignatius were impassive. Either they weren’t surprised by the conversation or they were good at hiding it. I had no way of seeing what Alec or Willem thought about the matter from where I stood at the rear of our foursome.
“The opening of the negotiations approaches rapidly,” Ignatius said in his usual unpleasant rasp. “I need to know who I can trust before then.”
“Are you saying you’ll be certain of your position by then?” Martin responded.
“That is not your concern.” There was a bite in the raspy voice.
“I beg to differ. You are asking me to throw the fate of my pack in with you.”
“For which you will be amply rewarded.”
“If you succeed.”
Ignatius’ frown turned ominous. “Now is not the time for any . . . decisive acts,” he said. “You may be confident that my influence at the negotiations will be considerable.”
What the hell did that mean? Did Ignatius think he would have control of the Blood by the negotiations? I hoped Lily was somewhere close, listening. Even if I didn’t make it out of here tonight, someone needed to let the Templars know what was happening.
I should have listened to my better instincts. The ones that had recommended getting out of the City. But those baser instincts never factored in Holly and Reggie. And the honorable part of me—stunted as it might be—couldn’t let them down. I couldn’t leave Reggie here to rot. I’d die first.
The silence between Ignatius and Martin was stretching to the point where it was about to snap. Lady only knew what would happen if it did. If Martin knew what was good for him—and us—he would make some placating noises and let us get out of here intact.
“Well,” he said after another second or two had dragged by, tightening the atmosphere in the room a few more notches, “if that is the case, then you can expect my support.”
Veil’s bloody eyes. Was Martin really going to ally with Ignatius? I suppressed the bite of outrage in my stomach. Stupid. Thank the Lady that I would be free of this mess soon.