by Alexis Hall
“Need a ride?”
“Haven’t got a helmet.” When it comes to jumping onto things with strange women, I try to be safety conscious. Oh, who am I kidding?
“Got a spare.” She jerked a thumb at one of the saddlebags. I rummaged and found a spare helmet pressed against two bottles of vodka, a compact but still highly illegal handgun, and a really scary amount of lighter fluid.
“You just have that to pick up chicks, don’t you?” I said.
“Worked, didn’t it?”
I jammed the helmet on my head and climbed up behind her.
“Hold on tight.”
I put my arms around her, and we thundered off up Fortis Green. It wasn’t a long journey, but it was a happy reminder of my early twenties, after I’d chucked Patrick and discovered the twin joys of hot women and heavy machinery.
We pulled up outside the flat, and I hopped off.
“I take it you’re here for Nim?” I asked, as Michelle dismounted as well.
“Yep.”
“Don’t say a lot, do you?”
“Nope.”
I should have seen that coming.
Inside the flat, Nim was awake and sharing a large pepperoni pizza with a man in a bright orange Transport for London jacket. Michelle grabbed herself a slice and sat down without saying anything.
“Hi, Kate.” Nim waved at me. She looked basically okay for someone who’d been unconscious for the best part of a day. “Sorry to turn your flat into a war room. I don’t think you’ve met Jacob.”
“Hey,” he said laconically.
By a process of elimination, Jacob must be the Guardian of the Watchtower of the West. He was a portly South Asian man with salt-and-pepper hair and a greying goatee.
“Hey,” I said back.
Nim grinned. “Wow, with you three here I won’t be able to get a word in edgeways.”
Michelle gave her sovereign the finger.
The Witch Queen of London returned the gesture.
“Anyway.” Nim turned back to me. “Do you want some pizza?”
“I always want pizza. Are you all right?”
“Tired, but fine.”
“Oh, come on, how can you be tired. You’ve been in bed all day.”
She smiled at me. “Yes, Kate, I’ve been slacking off fighting an undead shadow queen.”
“We have taken to calling her Susan,” offered Elise, coming in with a half-full washing-up bowl. “I am afraid this was the only suitable receptacle I could find unless you wish to reconvene in the bathroom.”
“That looks fine,” Nim replied. “Just pop it on the coffee table. Michelle, can you get the TV?”
I put my hand in the air. “Hey, can we just remember whose flat we’re in here?”
“Sorry, Kate. Kate, do you mind if Michelle puts the TV on?”
“Sure.”
Michelle stretched out an arm and slapped the on switch. The screen filled up with static and a cacophony of babbling voices burst out of the speakers. Then utter silence. And, finally, a figure appeared on the screen. It was a skinny woman in a pink onesie, with her white-blonde hair scraped back in a high ponytail.
“Ahwight, babes?” she said, cheerfully. And then, “Oh ’ello, Kate, it’s nice to see you in person.”
This had to be Rachel. “I wouldn’t call this in person. You’re kind of on my TV.”
“Wha’eva.”
Nim dragged the washing bowl over and passed her hand across the surface of the water. “The Witch Queen of London seeks communion with the Guardian of the Watchtower of the North.”
After a moment a small brown face appeared in the surface of the water, and said, “Hello, Auntie Nim.”
Nimue smiled into the bowl. “Hello, Phoebe. Can you get your daddy for me?”
“He’s busy doing The Rit-u-al of Ward-ing Con-flu-ence and telling Mummy to come straight home after work.”
A second voice, garbled like it was underwater, drifted into the room: “Phoebe, what have I told you about playing with the scrying pool?”
“Don’t do it.”
“We have three rules in this house, what are they?”
“Don’t bother Mummy when she’s working, no pudding unless you’ve eaten all your vegetables, even the sprouts, and do not meddle with forces beyond your com-pre-hension.”
The second voice said something I didn’t catch, but the tone sounded parent-y.
A little hand appeared in the water and splashed back and forth. “Good-bye, Auntie Nim,” said Phoebe. “Daddy says I have to get out the scrying pool now. Good-bye, Auntie Michelle. Good-bye, Auntie Rachel. Good-bye, Uncle Jacob. Good-bye, strange lady I haven’t met before.”
Her face disappeared and was replaced by Gabriel’s. He was looking pretty stressed. “How bad is it, Nim? Do I need to get my kids out?”
“It’s not good,” she told him, “but your wards should hold for a couple of days at least.”
Michelle leaned forwards with a creak of leather. “I’ll send some people round. We’re already patrolling the area. Rach, text Tarquin and Yseult. They’re nearby.”
Rachel didn’t move. She didn’t even appear to have a mobile phone. “Done.”
“All right, guys,” began Nim. “I, Nimue, hereby convene this meeting of the Circle to discuss the unknown enemy that rises in the north of our kingdom.”
“If it’s any help,” I offered, “I know who it is.”
There was a long silence.
“Yes,” said Nim in a Why didn’t you mention this earlier? voice. “Yes, that would be helpful, Kate.”
“She’s called the Morrígan. Ancient vampire queen. Slaughtered a fuck-tonne of people back in sixteen-blahdiblah. If we don’t stop her, she’ll kill everything.”
“Great.” Michelle grabbed another slice of pizza. “So no pressure then.”
“How ancient?” asked Jacob.
“I’m not sure, but I think, like, copper-tools-and-deer-skins ancient.”
“Hate to say it”—Michelle’s hand strayed to her neck where Julian had savaged her—“but, if you’re right, there’s no way we’re taking her in a straight fight.” She gave me a look I couldn’t read. “Your girlfriend was bad enough.”
I opened my mouth to say something but realised there was absolutely nothing I could say. It wasn’t like I could apologise for Julian, and she had kind of killed a bunch of people. Worse still, it hadn’t really put me off her.
“It doesn’t have to be a straight fight,” said Nimue. “Jacob, this is your thing.”
He ran a hand thoughtfully through his beard. “With a very old vampire, its biggest weakness is its bloodline. They sink a lot of their power into it, and it brings a lot of power back, but it’s a way in.”
“Sorry to butt in.” Rachel’s voice crackled out my speakers. “But the police band says some sort of riot around Chalk Farm.”
Michelle glanced towards the TV. “Send Branwyn’s gang down.”
“Done.”
“And ask them to bring me back some blood, if they can,” added Jacob.
Rachel made a huggy sort of gesture through the TV. “Aw, you are a sick puppy, Jake.”
“It’s just blood. We’ve all got it.”
“Fine. Done.”
Michelle pulled herself to her feet. “This is fucked. We need action.”
“We’re taking action.” Nim spoke softly, but the room fell silent around her. “I’m pushing her back in the Dream. She still thinks this is her land, and it isn’t. It’s mine, and I’ll fight for it. You two keep doing what you’re doing. Save as many lives as you can, and try not to start too many fires. Gabriel, what’s your advice?”
The water in the washing-up bowl rippled. “I worry that we are fighting the wrong battle. There’s something else here, but I can’t see through
the shadows.”
“Great,” said Michelle. “A seer who can’t see.”
“Michelle, I have been seer to the Court of London since you were six years old. If I cannot see, it is because someone has taken the trouble to blind me, and that means something.”
“Are you telling me there’s something even bigger and even nastier out there?” I asked. “Well, fuck.”
“Not bigger or nastier, but probably more subtle and more careful.”
Nimue began tidying up the empty pizza boxes. “Unfortunately, even if it is a distraction, it’s a distraction that’s killing people. Jacob, if we get you the blood, what can you do?”
“There’s a ritual that drains the strength of a vampire. With time, and for a price, I can make it affect a whole bloodline and a whole city.”
I waited for someone to ask the obvious question, and they didn’t. So I did. “When you say price...?”
He shrugged. “You don’t mess around with life and death for free.”
“What do you need?” asked Nimue.
“The blood of seven vampires from that line, the dirt from seven graves from where she rested, the ash from seven woods from seven trees, usual necromancy stuff. Then I need to anoint seven places around London without getting killed by vampires and come back to King’s Cross to finish the ritual. Is there any pizza left?” Michelle shoved the last pizza box over. “Problem is, soon as I start, any vampire in the bloodline who knows the first thing about magic will figure out something’s happening, and then we won’t have much time.”
This sounded pretty damn hard-core. I knew magic could do some serious shit, but this was something else. “And it will really affect every vampire descended from the Morrígan?”
“If it works.” He calmly finished his pizza slice. “I’ve never done anything on this scale before.”
“What will happen to them?”
“It will drain the energy that sustains them. The weak ones will just die. For good this time. The others, I don’t know.”
I looked around at the mages, waiting for a reaction. I didn’t get one. “Isn’t this a bit of a nuclear option? You’re talking about killing hundreds of people here.”
“They’re not people,” said Michelle. “They’re vampires.”
“And a lot more will die if we don’t,” added Nimue. “The city can’t sustain an army of vampires. The Council will destroy them if we don’t.”
Shit. This whole clusterfuck had just got way clusterier and fuckier.
“You should know,” I told them, “that the Prince of Wands is one of the Morrígan’s kids. He won’t sit around quietly and let you suck his life force out.”
Rachel made a “talk to the hand” gesture. “Babe, I don’t even know who that is.”
“One of the vampire Council,” explained Nim. “Unfortunately, we’ll have to take that chance.”
“Look,” I interrupted, “I’ve been hired to find some guy, and I think he’s one of them too. He’s a twenty-something software designer. I’m not mad keen on you making him collateral damage.”
“Kate, if you’re right, he’s already dead,” said Nim gently. “I’m really sorry, but it wasn’t us who brought him into this.”
“And if you can get him out the city before the ritual,” added Jacob, “he won’t be affected.”
“For the record, I still think this is a really bad idea.”
“Got a better one?” asked Michelle.
I didn’t.
Nimue came over and perched on the arm of my chair. “This is a bad situation, Kate, and a lot of people are going to get hurt before it’s through. We have to take what we can get. We’re going to do this, and I’m going to ask you to help.”
I gave her a look. “I’m quite busy at the moment. I’ve got this guy to find, and I’m on trial for my life, and my psycho ex is out of prison.”
“We had a bargain.”
Yes. Yes, we did. I sighed. “Fine, what do you want me for? Decoy, bait, human shield?”
“I need you to protect Jacob while he performs the ritual.”
“The ritual I think is a really bad idea?”
“Yes.”
“It’s fine,” interrupted Michelle, “I’ll do it.”
“No, you will not.” Nim glanced over. “You have other duties.”
I gave up. “All right, all right. Text me when you’re ready, and I’ll show up with the Sword of Getting Me into Trouble and a book for the Tube.”
“Then that is all,” said Nim. “I thank you for your counsel. You are free to depart.”
“I live here,” I pointed out.
“I don’t.” Michelle headed for the door. “Anyone want a lift?”
Jacob got up without saying a word and followed her from the room.
“See ya, babes.” Rachel vanished, and my television flicked onto an episode of Have I Got News for You.
“Good-bye,” said Gabriel, and the surface of the washing bowl went still and clear.
That just left me, Nim, Elise, and the last slice of pizza.
“That was most interesting,” observed Elise. “I enjoy watching interactions. I have now attended both a dinner party and a convocation of mages.”
Nim smiled mischievously. “If you ask Kate nicely, she might take you clubbing.”
“Or she might not,” I replied, firmly.
“Whatever you think best, Miss Kane. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go and ensure that Miss Katz is not exsanguinated by her vampire lover.”
“Have a good stakeout.”
And now there was just me, Nim, and the pizza, and it wasn’t at all awkward.
She touched my shoulder lightly. “I should go as well.”
I wanted to ask her to stay, which meant I really shouldn’t. I tried to pretend I was just worried about her, but having Nim around yesterday had been...nice. I mean, right up to the point where we confronted a scary uber-vampire in the middle of a graveyard.
“See you in my dreams,” I said, instead.
“Not tonight. You need the rest.”
“You’re not going to get killed, are you?”
“No. I’m stronger in the Dream.”
“Well, just, like, dream-yell if you need me.”
She reached out and brushed her fingertips across my cheek. She was so warm. “Thank you, Kate. I know I’ve asked a lot of you.”
“S’okay.”
I curled my hand lightly around her wrist. Her pulse beat beneath the skin, strong and fragile at the same time. You’re probably not in a very good place when you think a pulse is an unusual quality in a woman.
After she left, I settled down for another fun-packed Friday evening drinking alone.
Chapter Eleven
Friends & Lovers
I took Saturday off, which in practice meant waking up at ten with a god-awful hangover that didn’t clear until noon. Elise was on the street playing with her remote control helicopter, but she’d tidied the flat, taken out the pizza boxes, and left me a pot of coffee and a banana. Sometimes living with Elise felt a bit like living with your mum, although if Jenny had looked like Elise, I’d have grown up even more messed up than I already am.
I’m not very good at relaxation, so I stuck the TV on and wondered if it was too early to start drinking. Warlock had, as promised, sent me the demo rules for the game he was going to be running that evening. Since I’m a professional, I tried to do my homework. The cover art—which, embarrassingly, looked a little bit like Julian on a bad day—did not fill me with confidence, and about three minutes into the introductory chapter, which opened with the line your requiem begins here, I decided I’d rather be drunk.
I was just getting on with that when the buzzer went. Elise didn’t normally forget her keys, which meant it was probably someone trying to kill me. I pic
ked up the handset on the intercom.
“Hello?”
“We have to talk,” said a voice I didn’t recognise.
“Make an appointment. I’m in the book. And on the internet.”
“I’m not going away until you talk to me.”
“Fine.” I hung up.
It buzzed again two seconds later and kept buzzing until I answered.
“Who the hell are you,” I demanded, “and what do you want?”
“I want you to stop hurting Patrick.”
Oh fuck, it was her, wasn’t it? “Oh fuck, it’s you, isn’t it?”
“I know you hate me, Kate, but don’t take it out on Patrick. He’s done nothing to you.”
I had no idea what she was talking about. I sighed. “You’d better come up.”
Half a minute later, I let Sofia into my flat. She looked around as if to say You live like this? What with the bottle on the table and the Saturday afternoon TV, I’d say I wasn’t doing myself justice, but truthfully I probably was. Sofia just sort of stood in the middle of the room, hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans with her thumbs peeking over the edges.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
She stared at me with the defiance you can only have when you’re seventeen. “You got what you wanted.”
For a moment, I had zero clue what she meant, and then I thought back fifteen years and I understood perfectly. “Patrick’s left you, hasn’t he?”
“Wasn’t that the plan? Isn’t that why you had those men attack us?”
I took a deep breath. I was going to have one more go at this, even though I knew it wasn’t going to make a difference. “I know you won’t believe me, because I wouldn’t have believed me when I was your age, but I have no desire to steal your boyfriend. We broke up more than ten years ago, I thought he was a dick then and I think he’s a dick now.”
She looked at me with quivering sincerity. “Patrick said you’d try to turn me against him.”
There was a pause.
“You do know I’m gay, right?”