Shadow Kin

by M. J. Scott

  For a moment I thought he was going to refuse, but then he looked from me to Guy and the lines of his face settled into grim resignation. “All right,” he said flatly. “We kill him. You have any ideas as to how?”

  Guy tapped the table with his long fingers, red cross rippling on his skin, his eyes ice cold and his face set in the same grim lines as his brother’s. “That might take more than my help, little brother. It might take divine intervention.”

  “Unless you have some of that to hand, I think we should focus on coming up with a plan,” I said. “Lucius wants me back. Can’t we use that?”

  The fingers stopped their tattoo as Guy’s brows drew together. “You think he’ll come for you?”

  I nodded. “Yes. He’ll want more blood. It’s not like he has another wraith to hand. I think he’ll come tonight if he finds out where I am.”

  “Well, then, there’s only one detail we really need to work out.”

  “And that is?”

  “Where best to place the bait.” Guy nodded, a satisfied smile lighting his face.

  I stared at Guy, tasting bile. I’d known I’d have to face Lucius again, of course, but now it struck home. I would be letting myself be dangled temptingly in front of Lucius’ nose. Offering myself up to his vengeance.

  Lucius wanted me. He’d come to get me.

  All I had to do was put myself in a position where he thought he could do so. Put myself in his reach.

  “So we need to decide where we want to meet him,” I said slowly, trying to think to chase away the fear. “Then we can let that leak out. Guy, some of your men could do that, couldn’t they? Let it slip that I’m back here and ready to testify? Starting now?”

  Guy nodded. Simon still hadn’t spoken.

  “What’s wrong, little brother?” Guy asked.

  “It’s dangerous.”

  I shrugged, not wanting either of them to see how scared I was. They might do something stupid like try to stop me. “My life is already dangerous.” If I wasn’t going to run, then nothing could make things worse than they were already.

  “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Guy added. A very Templar sentiment.

  Simon finally nodded, though the movement was reluctant. “Then let’s make sure we’re the ones who gain.”

  Relief made me light-headed. I drew in a breath. “Good, we’re agreed. The question, then, is where and when we try to draw him out.”

  Simon touched my arm. The need flared like an oilsoaked torch. The heat bit deep and so did the pain. I set my jaw, steeling myself to ignore its shrieking demands. So another question was how I could manage to do whatever it was we planned while coping with the need as well. It would only get worse from here. I’d pushed my tolerance too far. The cramps in my stomach were a steady dull pain now and my head throbbed.

  I almost regretted not having time for Lucius to give me the blood. It might have been enough to—

  “Lily ?” Simon’s voice drew me out of the reverie. “Is something wrong?”

  “It’s nothing.” I inched away from him carefully, scared he would sense my pain. “Let’s get to work.”

  Our planning was hasty, but thorough. Guy would organize for rumors of my whereabouts to spread. And find a suitable place for me to spend the night. The guest chambers we’d had previously were too small. Too difficult to fight in.

  Simon would do the same job of ensuring that word spread at St. Giles, if it hadn’t already.

  The details came together almost too easily and barely an hour had passed before Guy left, headed to do what needed to be done.

  Which left me with nothing to do but wait. I wanted to stay out of sight as much as possible. For some reason the hidden ward, with all its additional protections, felt safer to me than the hospital or the Brother House. It was irrational; I knew but I needed my strength to fight the need. Even in the few hours our planning had taken, the pain had gotten worse. Based on experience, I had somewhere between twelve hours and a day before I was incapacitated.

  But who knew if experience applied? This time I was withdrawing from a much larger dose of blood . . . I had no way of knowing if things would move faster or slower.

  Lucius had to come tonight. Or the truth would come out.

  In the meantime, I needed to be around as few people as possible, and the hidden ward seemed to be the best solution.

  Even better if I could convince Simon to leave me down there for a bit. Having him so close was torturous. The need bit and so did the guilt that I hadn’t been honest with him. Still, maybe after tonight, if everything went right, there would be nothing to tell.

  I almost sighed with relief as we passed through the last of the warded doors and greeted Atherton. I hadn’t been able to convince Simon to leave me alone, but at least he’d brought me here. I sank wearily onto a chair near one of the beds and stared at the bare walls, remembering the elegant leafy spaces of Simon’s home. Would I ever get to live somewhere with that sense of light and air rather than between stark stone walls designed to cage me in?

  Or was this ward one of the last things I was ever going to see?

  I drew my feet up on the chair, hugging my knees. Both to try to feel warm and because locking my hands around my knees hid the shakiness of my hands. I gritted my teeth. I needed to hold on. To resist. I had to be able to fight tonight.

  Maybe I should ask Atherton for his blood? Though how I would get rid of Simon in order to achieve that end was beyond me.

  As if to mock me, another pain struck, like a knife to my stomach. It rippled through my guts, then slid up my spine to burst through my head like a hammer blow. I sucked in a breath involuntarily, the noise very loud in the quiet room.

  Simon broke off his conversation with Atherton and hurried over to me. His eyes narrowed as I lifted my head wearily to meet his gaze, the pain fading rapidly.

  “You’re trembling.” He crouched down and touched my hand.

  I dropped my gaze, pretending to watch what he was doing so I wouldn’t have to look at him. “Just nerves.”

  “Is it?” His eyes searched my face as his hand moved to circle my wrist. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Hells. Was he using his healer senses on me? I tried to pull my arm free. “You don’t seem to want to believe anything I say today,” I countered. “If you were me, wouldn’t the fact that Lucius could come walking through a wall at any time during the night make you nervous?”

  “Your pulse is racing. Your skin is hot. Are you sick?”

  “I’ve never been sick in my life,” I said automatically. Then immediately regretted my words. If I wasn’t sick, then something else had to be causing the symptoms.

  Simon rocked back on his heels. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  I shook my head. But another pain struck—so close—too close—and I felt myself start to shadow, wanting to flee to the cool gray world where there was no pain. There perhaps I could make it until tonight. I forced myself back with an effort.

  Simon was staring at me. “What was that? Tell me the truth, Lily.”

  I hesitated, breath coming too fast. I couldn’t hide this more than another few hours. Not when it was moving so fast. Was it better to tell or be discovered? I knew what Simon think of me, knew how he felt about those who drank blood. But maybe . . . just maybe, he was better than that. Maybe I did matter to him. After all, would he be so angry at me if he didn’t care?

  He said, hand still twining around my wrist as if he couldn’t quite let go, “Tell me. Or I’ll find out for myself.”

  I stared at him, mind racing. A seemingly simple thing, the truth. But it could change everything. Did I want to see him draw away from me? Dealing with his anger now was bad enough. What would complete rejection be like?

  What would it be like to go through the rest of my life knowing that he only cared because of a lie? The voice rose unasked in my head and my heart turned over.

  I wanted someone to care for me. The real me. Al
l of me. Even if I died tonight.

  Only the truth could give me that, despite the risk.

  “Is something wrong?” Atherton’s voice came from behind me.

  I twisted around. His scarred face was hard to read. Had he heard Simon’s question? I knew his loyalty was to Simon, not to me. Would he tell if I didn’t? That could only make things a thousand times worse.

  “That depends on Lily,” Simon said.

  I turned back to him, studying him, committing his face to memory. Gold and blue concern. Concern for me. The face of someone who cared about me. Store the memory deep. In case I never saw such a thing again.

  “It’s the blood,” I said softly, and heard Atherton suck in a breath behind me.

  “Blood? What blood? Did Lucius do something to you?”

  I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think what to say. I just looked at him. And saw the moment when he understood what I meant.

  “Vampire blood?” He dropped my wrist as if it were suddenly on fire. “You drink vampire blood.” He stared at me, face twisting.

  I nodded, dropped my feet to the floor, bracing myself for whatever was coming next. “It wasn’t my—”

  “No,” Simon added, as if he couldn’t even hear me speaking. “Not just vampire blood. Lucius’ blood. You’re locked to him.”

  “I’m not locked!” I protested, coming to my feet. “It doesn’t work that way.”

  Simon stepped back, shaking his head, one hand held out as if to ward me off. “Doesn’t it? Look at you, you’re shaking. You’re addicted.” His face worked. “All this time, I’ve been trying to help you and you’re already beyond help. An addict. Just like—” He bit off the words, eyes blazing. “And that means . . . oh, gods and fucking suns.” He moved farther away from me. “You and him . . . you . . .”

  I hadn’t expected it to hurt quite this much, seeing the expression of disgust on his face. Seeing the warmth die. “We didn’t have sex,” I said, trying to make him understand. “You know that.”

  “But you—”

  “The blood invokes pleasure,” Atherton interrupted in a cool voice. “It isn’t a choice on the part of the one receiving, Simon. I doubt Lily drank willingly.”

  I was grateful for the defense though I doubted it would help my cause, given the source. “Exactly. I didn’t have a choice, Simon, don’t you see?”

  “That’s what they all say. It wasn’t my fault. Gods. How does someone make you drink their blood?”

  Anger burned away some of the sick feeling. If he was going to judge me, then he could hells-damned well judge me on the whole truth. I swallowed hard, reached for a calm voice as the memory rose in my head. “The first time he made me drink, he beat me half to death, then forced me to drink. Does that sound like a choice to you?”

  Simon’s face was stone. “The first time. What about the others?”

  “It doesn’t much matter after the first few times. All of which involved force.” After that, I had to admit, despite the humiliation and anger and self-disgust, I had gone willingly enough to Lucius every time I reached the point where the need drove me to it. “After that, it is, as you said, an addiction. One no one escapes. Hell, Simon, you’re a Master Healer and you haven’t found a cure. Can you blame me for failing in the same quest?”

  “All this time, you’ve been needing his blood?” Simon said as if he hadn’t heard me. “Thinking about it. About him.”

  “It doesn’t work that way,” I said. “The need is quiet for a period of time after you feed.”

  “But then it starts to burn, doesn’t it? That’s what Atherton has always told me.” He cursed suddenly, low and vicious. “That’s why you suddenly threw yourself at me. You just wanted to someone to bed you, to keep it at bay.”

  “No.” But my protest sounded weak even to my own ears.

  Simon stared at me, eyes as distant as the sky they resembled.

  “No,” I repeated. “Not entirely. What we have is outside that.”

  “How can it be when you’re burning up for another man? Burning up for a goddamned insane Blood Lord. Burning for his blood. As you’ll always burn.”

  “I don’t want it,” I cried, feeling my voice catch and thicken. I would not cry. Not in front of him. Not if he couldn’t understand this. “I need it. Believe me, there’s a difference.”

  “Is that why you want to kill him? Because he did this to you?”

  “Yes. Partly.”

  “What’s the other part?”

  I lifted my chin, met his scornful gaze with steel in my own eyes. “Because nobody is safe while he’s alive.”

  “How can I believe that?” He closed his eyes briefly. “How can I believe anything you say? You’ve been lying to me all this time.”

  “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you.”

  “You lied when you asked me to come to your bed.”

  My hands curled into fists. Oh to shake sense into him. But I had nothing to defend me except words. Words I knew he wouldn’t listen to. Not while he was so angry. Maybe not ever. “It wasn’t a lie. I picked you. You were my choice for the first time. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? The one and only time it was my choice and I picked you!”

  “Picked me to work off your bloodlust like any Nightseeking whore,” he snarled.

  My mouth worked but no sound came out. There was no response. If that was what he really thought of me, then there was no point to this. I turned and walked away.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “You were too hard on her,” Atherton said as the door to the outer chamber slammed shut behind Lily.

  “Atherton,” I managed, between gritted teeth. “Go. Away.”

  His face went still. Then he turned and left. The door slammed a second time, hard enough to make the oil lamps swing above the beds, sending shadows scurrying around the walls.

  Leaving me alone. Alone surrounded by the blood-locked I’d worked so long to try to save.

  Those who had fallen prey to the Blood.

  As Lily had.

  Anger roiled through me.

  I wanted to hurt someone. Wanted to unleash the sun and burn the mess of my life to the ground.

  Gods. I wanted not to have to think about it. About Lucius touching her, let alone him seeing her in the throes of pleasure.

  No. Why should I care what she’d done? She had lied to me. Used me. Felt nothing for me. The need killed all human ties, all natural emotion. I knew that. Those in its grip wanted only the pleasure.

  But you want her anyway, a vicious little voice in my head mocked.

  Truth, I did. Gods and suns take me for a fool.

  But I didn’t know how it could ever work between us despite what I had seen break in those gray eyes when I’d called her a whore.

  What I’d felt break within me at the sight.

  But I did know one thing. I now had no doubt I wanted Lucius dead.

  Unable to stop myself, I kicked out at the chair where Lily had sat. It skidded across the room and crashed into a table, knocking a tray of tubes and instruments to the floor, where they shattered.

  Not one of the patients around me stirred.

  Which left me looking for something else to hurl.

  “Feeling any better?” Atherton’s voice came from the doorway.

  “No.”

  “She’s not the same as a Nightseeker,” he said. “She didn’t choose.”

  “I don’t care,” I ground out.

  Atherton tilted his head and started picking his way across the room, surefooted as a cat despite his blindness. “If you say so,” he said, patently disbelieving. “Despite this . . . disinterest, you should still help her do what she wants to do.” He reached the mess I made, though how he knew where it was escaped me, and bent to right the table.

  “Why?” I knew why I wanted Lucius dead. But I was in no mood to bend to anyone else’s desires right now.

  Atherton straightened. “There is something I’ve never told you about the blood-locked.�
�

  Gods and fucking suns. Was everyone in my life a liar? “What?”

  “I have a theory that killing Lucius might break the addiction.”

  My jaw dropped. “How? And why in hell are you only telling me this now?”

  “Because I never thought we would have a chance to try it out,” he said calmly. He folded his arms and propped himself against one of the iron-framed beds.

  Killing Lucius could be a cure? Fuck. “How sure are you?”

  “It’s a theory. There must be something magical involved in the link between the Blood and the locked. We haven’t found a physical cause in all these years. Lucius is the head of his Court. He has killed all the older ones and destroyed their Courts over the centuries. His blood runs in all the Blood in this City. His magic. It might hold the key.”

  Or it might not.

  And if it didn’t? If Lily—if we—somehow went ahead with the plan and survived and succeeded and yet she still needed the blood? If she would still be forced to choose it every time. Could I cope with that?

  Feeling my mind go red with rage once more at just the thought of her needing the blood still, even if it was Atherton who fed her, I doubted it.

  But despite that, the dark part of me also felt a desperate need to make Lucius suffer. To end him. So I was going to try, and suns take the consequences.

  When twilight came, Guy escorted me to the chamber he had prepared. The gaslights had been altered to sunlamps, which left me only with candles until I needed the sun.

  Until Simon came to my rescue, that is.

  If he did come to my rescue.

  I lay down on the bed, stomach churning. I hadn’t seen Simon since I’d left the ward. I’d returned to the Brother House, found Guy, and asked for a room and to be left alone. Simon hadn’t come looking for me. And he had sent Guy to bring me here.

  Guy who had assured me that nothing in the plan had changed.

  Which I, apparently, was to take on faith.

  It seemed that I was to do this without even a good-bye at the last.

  So be it. I stared at the ceiling with eyes that burned from held-back tears and willed Lucius to appear. Every so often, I let myself drift toward the shadow to ease the pain but forced myself back. Part of me wanted the pain. Needed it to focus my anger and will on Lucius. An end was called for. His or mine.