Iron Kin: A Novel of the Half-Light City

by M. J. Scott

  I was starting to dread the visits to Reggie. She was still and silent in that damned hospital bed. She was awake, at least, and sometimes she even responded when asked simple questions. And she still ate and drank. But she showed no signs of improvement beyond that.

  My head pounded as I took my place in the queue for food. I could smell coffee, which might help, but what I really wanted was brandy. It was harder to be here in the dining hall; more Templars meant more visions swarming around me.

  At least spending time with Brother Anthony meant that I had only one person to deal with, and so I’d largely kept the visions at bay. But even then, spending so much time with a single person meant it was inevitable that I would start to see things surrounding him. So far it hadn’t been anything too terrible, but there was a darkness around the man that made me want not to see much more. Or maybe that was just my bad mood.

  I filled my plate with food, not really paying any attention to what it was, and then my luck improved and I spotted Saskia and Brother Liam.

  As usual, the visions swirled brightly around both of them. Liam—someday I would have to find out more about him—was shadowed by a large black wolf and I also saw him on a horse looking desperately tired and determined, riding toward a burning city through terrain that wasn’t familiar to me. The city was walled, which meant it wasn’t our City. And everywhere images of the sun followed him. I’d managed to discover that he was a sunmage, so that much made sense, but I hadn’t figured out the rest.

  I tried not to look too closely at Saskia’s fates. It felt like spying on her, and the images around her were far less clear anyway. Sparks of metal and swords and a group of three Fae men wearing mail. Her family. An impossible wall of iron spikes. And Saskia herself weeping, kneeling and looking at something I could never quite make out. It caught at me, that image, every time it swirled past. Even worse was the one where she was wearing a beautiful silver gown, smiling with delight and holding out her hands to somebody.

  It looked far too much like a wedding gown to me. If it was, I was glad I couldn’t see the man who was going to win her eventually.

  I shook off the thought. Saskia was laughing at something Liam had said, which only soured my temper further, but I made myself smile when they noticed me.

  The delighted expression on her face faltered a little before she got it back under control.

  I didn’t know how to interpret that. Did she not want to see me? Or had she taken something amiss from my expression? I could hardly ask with Brother Liam within earshot. He would no doubt be quick to pass on anything he learned to Simon and Guy. I wasn’t ready to have that particular conversation.

  Biting back my need for more information, I nodded at the two of them and walked closer to where they stood. “Saskia. Brother Liam. Are you eating?”

  “Saskia is,” Liam said, with a return of my nod. He suddenly looked pleased. “I actually have something else I need to do. Perhaps you could see that she is escorted back to St. Giles after the meal?”

  “That would be my pleasure.” I tried to keep my tone neutral, hiding the grin that threatened to break my composure. I closed the gap between us and extended my arm to Saskia. “I’ll take good care of her.”

  Liam nodded and took his leave of us, moving briskly through the crowd of men, stopping only once, to speak to someone. I noticed that some of the Templars grimaced as he passed them, their eyes resting on his mangled arm.

  Liam didn’t notice, or didn’t react if he did. He was very controlled, but I wouldn’t have liked to be the person who finally made him lose his temper.

  “I’m perfectly capable of walking back through the tunnels myself,” Saskia grumbled, but she smiled as she said it. “Go find us a seat while I get some food. I’m starving.” She shooed me away with a little flap of her hands.

  She wasn’t wearing gloves and I wished I could take her hand so she could chase the visions away for a little while. But that would have to wait.

  I found a seat and Saskia joined me. We ate quickly, talking of our lessons and inconsequential things. I tried not to let my gaze linger on her face too long or dip to where the sensible blue dress she wore hugged her curves.

  When she pushed her plate away and swallowed the last of the tea she’d chosen, I rose, impatient to be away from the crowded room. If we were lucky we might actually get a little time alone on the walk back to St. Giles.

  “Shall we?” I looked down at her, trying to decipher the expression in her eyes.

  She nodded, and rose. We carried our plates and cups back to the counters where they would be collected—the Templars were fond of neatness and order. Saskia snatched up an apple and put it into the purse she carried.

  “Is your head hurting as badly as mine?” I asked.

  She turned toward me. “Your head? Are you having visions?” Her hand slid down my arm toward my hands. “Do you need—”

  Was she worried about me or reluctant to touch me? Her hand hovered where it was, midway down my forearm, the warmth of her skin penetrating the fabric of my jacket. Should I lie? Tell her I needed her so that she would touch me?

  No. Not until I knew how she felt. If I had scared her or upset her, then I would at least give her the courtesy of not forcing her to touch me more than she had to. “No,” I said. “It’s just all this damned protocol. I don’t know about you, but if I hear one more thing about the degrees of separation in the nuances of Fae Court bows, I’m going to tell Simon and Guy I’ve changed my mind.”

  To my relief, that drew a smile from her. A somewhat smug smile, I thought.

  “You don’t know Fae protocol?” she asked.

  “You do?” That surprised me.

  “Well, some,” she said. “We learn some treaty protocol at the Guild and how to deal with the Fae.” She frowned for a moment, then shook her head as if dismissing an unpleasant thought.

  Of course she had. She was a metalmage. And a DuCaine. And of course she would have been tutored in human etiquette and mingled with the higher echelons of human society since she was tiny. There was no way she felt as out of her depth as I was starting to.

  “I see,” I said, trying not to sound irritated. I wondered if anyone had ever made a charm to accelerate learning. Probably not. The Fae wouldn’t need such things.

  “If your head hurts, Simon or one of the healers can help you,” Saskia said.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “At least it can’t go on too much longer.”

  “No,” she said, her face turning serious for a moment. “No, tomorrow we have to start using what we’ve learned.”

  That wasn’t a thought to improve my mood. Anything could happen at the negotiations. I tried to see what the possibilities were, tried to make some sense out of all the images I saw around the Templars and St. Giles, but the truth was that until I was at the Treaty Hall with all the players in one place, I wouldn’t see the whole picture.

  That chance would come soon enough.

  “We should go,” I said, nodding in the direction of the door.

  Saskia’s expression turned . . . speculative. A dimple winked into view in her cheek and she twined her fingers through her prentice chain, just at the point where it skimmed the modest neckline of her dress. The sudden change in mood made my heart speed up a notch or two. I made myself look down at the floor. The last place I wanted to be caught staring at Saskia’s arresting curves was in the midst of a group of Templars who were brothers-in-arms to Guy.

  “Still hungry?” she asked softly. I lifted my head. Mischief and something hotter danced in her eyes.

  “I have an . . . appetite,” I said cautiously.

  She smiled. “Let’s take the long way. We can walk across the grounds. Get some fresh air.”

  “The tunnels are safer,” I said, then smacked myself mentally. That was definitely not the argument to use with Saskia. Too much like her brothers.

  “It’s the Brother House and St. Giles,” she said, with more than a hint of wheedle
in her tone. “Probably the two most protected places in the City right now.”

  I could hardly argue that point. It was the reason we were both sequestered here, after all. I glanced at the nearest window. It was still light; the sun wouldn’t be setting for a few more hours. “I—”

  “Please, Fen,” Saskia said. “I’ve been cooped up for almost two days. I really need to be outside.”

  Was she telling the truth? Did she really need to recharge her powers or whatever it was that mages did?

  Or was she just being rebellious?

  She moved a little closer, smiled a little sweeter. “Besides,” she said, glancing up at me from under her eyelashes in a demonstration of flirting prowess that Holly would have been proud of, “there are some interesting little spots in the hospital’s garden.” She reached out, let her hand drift over the back of mine.

  Sweet Lady, I was an idiot. But I couldn’t say no. Not with my cock leaping to life at the touch of her hand and my blood suddenly pounding. After all, I had a pistol and a sword, and no doubt Saskia was carrying some sort of weapon in her purse as well.

  It was still daylight.Everything would be fine. “All right,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too addled with lust. “But just for a little while.”

  * * *

  Everything was fine. At first. We made it across the grounds of the Brother House and passed through the gates between the Templars’ land and the hospital under the watchful eyes of the knights guarding it. They looked slightly suspicious as we went, but apparently none of them were going to argue with a metalmage. Or, perhaps, with a DuCaine.

  Either way, I was grateful to them for letting us pass. As soon as we rounded the corner of the first of the St. Giles buildings and found ourselves in one of the many little alleys that crisscrossed the hospital complex—a delightfully deserted little alley—Saskia came to an abrupt halt, turned, and pulled my head down to hers.

  Sweet Lady. As her mouth pressed to mine fiercely and opened to me, I thought my head might just explode. Not only from the sudden relief from the unending visions and the pain that accompanied them, but also from the sudden surge of lust that set my belly alight. I backed her up against the wall, lifting her, pushing up her skirts so she could wrap her legs around me, getting as close as I dared.

  It was pleasure and pain. I wished I could throw caution to the wind and take her here and now, burying myself in her until we were both lost. But there were some far reaches of my brain that knew that to be an impossibility. And, thank whoever might be looking out for me, that part managed to keep control of the rest of me.

  It didn’t stop me from slipping a hand between her legs and driving her to the orgasm I so fiercely desired, though.

  I blocked her cries with more kisses, feeling her pulse against me with satisfaction. When she stilled, I pulled my head back.

  Her eyes were half-closed and languorous, a smile turning up her swollen lips. “Well, now you’ve done it,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” I eased her down, let her smooth her skirts before I was tempted to do something really stupid—like try for another round. Her dress seemed none the worse for wear, the material seemingly not prone to crushing.

  I wished the same could be said for my shirt, which was sadly rumpled. But at least my coat was long enough to hide the erection that was demanding satisfaction with a strident voice. I gritted my teeth, tried to think of something distracting. Buckets of ice water. Rotten fish.

  None of it worked with Saskia so close and flushed before me.

  “We’ll have to take longer now,” she said when she’d arranged her dress to her satisfaction. “Atherton would be able to smell exactly what we’ve been up to. Lily too, if she’s there. Though she might approve.”

  “She would?” That was enough to take my mind off my cock for a minute. Lily would be happy I was shagging her future sister-in-law?

  “Yes, she—” Saskia broke off, her brows drawing down in a sudden frown. “Someone’s coming.”

  My hand clutched my pistol. “Which way?”

  Saskia had stooped to a crouch, reaching for the purse she had dropped. She yanked it open and withdrew a pistol of her own. She jerked her chin toward the nearer end of the alley. “That way. Whoever it is, they’re carrying iron. Weapons, I think.”

  “Templars?”

  She straightened. “I can’t tell.”

  I grabbed her free hand in mine. “All right. Where’s the nearest way in?”

  “We need to go left at the end of this alley. There’s a door in the next building over.”

  “Then we head that way. Quickly.”

  “I’m sure it’s just one of the hospital staff.”

  I wished I shared her certainty, but there was a nasty prickle at the back of my neck that told me a hasty retreat would be a sensible option right about now. I started backing down the alley, as fast as I dared, keeping my eyes focused on the other end, the direction Saskia said our unexpected visitor was coming from.

  We got only about twenty feet down the alley before a man rounded the corner and the prickling on my neck turned into a sinking stomach.

  This was no human healer or Templar. Not a Fae either. No, the man coming toward us was Beast Kind. And he drew a sword as he spotted us, launching himself into a leaping run that closed the distance between us with frightening speed.

  “Run!” I roared at Saskia. I stood my ground, took aim, and fired. My pistol wasn’t loaded with silver bullets; silver wasn’t allowed anywhere near the Treaty Hall and even though our weapons would be confiscated before we entered, the presence of silver bullets would be taken as a treaty violation. Guy had made sure my weapons wouldn’t cause any issues the first day I’d spent in the Brother House.

  Silver or no, my bullet hit the Beast in his right shoulder, making him falter and fumble his sword. I fired again, aiming for the same spot, hoping the damage would slow him down enough that Saskia could at least make it to safety.

  I didn’t dare risk a glance to see where she was. The beast stumbled again as my second bullet hit home and this time he did drop his sword.

  Cursing loudly, I launched myself forward, desperate to get to him before he could rearm himself. But he was fast—Beast fast—and he twisted and scooped up the sword. I got off another desperate shot, which went wide, and then I flipped the gun into my left hand and grabbed for my sword just in time to meet the slashing blow of his.

  Our blades clashed with a force that sent me rocking back on my knees. I’d thought Guy’s blows savage enough, but I’d forgotten the force a full-grown Beast could wield, even in human form.

  I rocked backward, trying to deflect some of the shock. The Beast grinned at me, flashing fangs. Fuck. That was all I needed. If he managed to transition to hybrid form I was well and truly screwed.

  My left hand was sweaty and the gun was an awkward grip, but I fired again, aiming for his torso.

  I couldn’t miss at such a short distance, but though the Beast’s grin changed to a snarl and a howl of rage as the bullet tore through him, he still lifted his sword for another blow.

  My pistol wasn’t doing enough damage. And I had only two more bullets.

  But any time I could hold him off would be time for Saskia to get to safety, to get help, perhaps—though that was too much to hope for.

  I blocked another blow, managed to twist and parry before darting away. The Beast was fast, but I had speed too. Beast and Fae blood flowed through my veins. I moved backward, trying to entice him back in the direction he’d come from, away from Saskia. The Beast crouched, readying himself for a leap, and I spotted Saskia standing in the mouth of the alley.

  Fear rushed through me with a whooshing roar. What the fuck was she doing?

  But then she shouted something and there was yet another whooshing roar as a fireball ignited around the Beast’s sword. He let it go with a yelp, but not fast enough. The fire sprang up around him, blazing with heat that made me fall back under the force of i
t.

  His clothes ignited and then his hair, and he screamed as his flesh began to blacken. The stench of burning meat roiled toward me and I retched. And then did the only thing I could think of—raised my gun again and shot him in the head.

  Chapter Fourteen

  FEN

  The Treaty Hall was an imposing marble building located in almost the exact center of the City. I studied it cautiously, suddenly feeling unprepared for what was to come despite all the hours of lessons Saskia and I had undergone in the last few days.

  The building rested on vast granite tiles that marked out a square several hundred feet long on each side. To its left and right, across the borders of the square and further separated by cobbled avenues, were the human council chambers and the elegant wooden building that housed the offices of the Speaker for the Veil.

  I’d passed the hall many times, but I’d never been inside. Few had. Between negotiation seasons, the hall was generally sealed, protected by wards set by all four races, so that, in theory, none could get inside. Occasionally it had been used to receive dignitaries from outside the City, but otherwise, it sat empty and inviolate, each of its four corners flying a flag of one of the four races, supposedly to demonstrate harmony and equality.

  But now, thanks to Brother Anthony’s hours of tutelage, I knew quite a bit about the hall and what happened in it during the negotiations.

  The first task of any treaty season was the undoing of the wards and the inspection of the building itself, followed by the setting of lesser wards and the establishment of patrols to protect the perimeter, both aboveground and below, where tunnels provided daylight access for the Blood. Most of the negotiations were actually held in the evenings in deference to the preferences of the Blood and the Beasts, but some ceremonies were held during daylight hours. Those took place in one of the windowless rooms at the heart of the hall.

  After the hall was opened and inspected, heavily supervised teams of cleaners and workmen were allowed in to make the place fit for the negotiations. They polished and swept and repaired any cracks in the wood and stone of the building. As it didn’t contain a single scrap of iron in its construction, it was somewhat susceptible to the ravages of wind and weather. No ward can completely gainsay the weather, after all. Or the rats and mice and other creatures that manage to exploit any small pieces of damage and get inside to take up residence.