"The only thing I'm certain of at the moment, Miss Hensford, is that you had a nightwalker chained in your home and didn't look at all surprised by his presence."
"Chained being the operative word and, might I add, at his request. As it is you who freed him, I rather think you should be the one being asked hard questions."
You should not have freed me. I sat on the foot of my bed, the thin strength built on anxiety that had kept me moving up to this point washing out in a great crash. Lucien had sought help against his nightwalker master. And he hadn't sought it from me.
"Why you?" I asked, hating the grating edge to my voice. "Why would he go to you to keep him under control?"
"Old blood, naturally. My family's just as old as Emeline's here, though we haven't been as tangled in dark-doings as hers. He recalled some ancient branch of my tree had been involved in magic long ago, and sought the Hensfords. Didn't mean to find me in particular, I don't think, but it's well for him that he did. My brother would have called a preacher, and my mother might have tried to stake the poor man herself. And father. Well. I supposed he'd have to find his hearing aid to even hear him asking for help, and I doubt he'd have bothered."
"And you just happened to be sympathetic to the plight of the nightwalker?" I raised one brow at her, sensing that the scrutiny wouldn't phase her. She brushed me off with a wave of her hand.
"Please. The circles I move through, I come across worse all the time. Perfectly mortal, but nasty. And it's not like I was unaware that those things which go bump in the night are real. It was a shock at first, I'll grant you, but not one to send me gibbering to an asylum. I know you're removed from the experience, but the human brain is capable of adapting in stressful situations."
"I'm convinced more and more of that every day." I threw Talia a look, and she practically withered under it. "Why me, Talia? You know I'm... under review. Why not Roisin or Maeve?"
She wrung her hands together. "You were all I could think of. Lucien isn't... bad... according to Raina. And Roisin and the others would just stake him and be done with it. I've had enough of that kind of thing."
As if the systematic destruction of ghoul crèches was just poor behavior. "What do you mean, he's not 'bad'?"
"Why, it's why he came to me," Raina cut in. "Look, I don't know a lot about your eternal war and all that. His explanations weren't exactly uni courses on the subject. But I know your people are supposed to keep each other in check, and his people haven't been playing by the rules. They want to use him for something—something I'm betting is quite bad for humankind—and he wants none of it. So he escaped, and sought help, and found me. Now you've put him out on the street and they know he's loose. Those chains were the only thing keeping them from finding him."
"You mean Ragnar and his hive?"
"His hive? Girl, I don't know what that is. It's Ragnar and Sonia you need to worry about."
"Sonia? The real estate agent?"
"That what she's introducing herself as?" Raina puffed hair off her cheek with a huff. "I suppose it's true enough, but her real vocation is as a fixer for the rich. She connects the moneyed looking for a good time or something, I don't know, thrilling, together with certain elements of the occult. Mostly hedgewitches, truth be told. Used to be she provided little more than parlor tricks—real ones, but still—for her people. Lately she's been providing something a little more substantial."
"Ghouls," I said, mystified. Nothing in Raina's tone or body hinted that she was lying. "She's bringing them to the crèches for... entertainment?"
"Oh my, no. Her clients wouldn't step foot in those. She's having them turned to ghouls in a house of hers, making a little army for Ragnar. They get hopped up on vampire blood—they start to feel youthful again, or get high like they haven't in years—and Ragnar gets to boss them around, string them along with promises of turning them into nightwalkers if they do what he wants.
"He's got half the high and mighty of London in his pocket, by my estimation." She wrinkled her nose. "Sonia tried to get me tied up in it too, but I wasn't having any of it. I'd already talked to Lucien, you see. What had been done to him was all the evidence I needed. Those poor fools will never achieve immortality. They'll remain Ragnar's puppets until he drains them to their death."
"Sonia told us about the wealthy ghouls," Talia said quickly.
I shook my head. "Of course she did. She suspected you had Lucien, didn't she, Raina? But you wouldn't let her in to have a look, so she sent me to flush him out. Quite the risk. I might have killed him."
Raina arched a brow back at me. "From what Lucien told me, I don't think you would have. I'm curious, though. I never saw you come into the house, but you must have passed up the stairs. Even the cameras didn't catch you. How did you do it?"
"Sonia's not the only one who knows a hedgewitch or two."
"Good. I'm glad Talia brought me to you, then. You may need the power of your friends tonight."
"For what?"
"Sonia is on her way to meet Ragnar right now. They are going to summon Lucien to them."
I stood bolt straight. "For what purpose?"
She shook her head. "I don't know, but it can't be anything pleasant, can it?"
"I'm sorry," Talia burst out. "When she told me, I didn't know what to do."
"Give yourself some credit," Raina said, brushing her shoulder fondly. "You knew exactly what to do. You brought me to Miss Shelley, even though your boss wouldn't like it. You've always known what the right thing is without having to think about it."
"Where?" I asked. Raina was right—Talia's instincts, much like Roisin's, had not failed me nor the Sun Guard yet. If she trusted me to take on this task, then I had to trust myself as well.
"This spooky private garden Sonia likes to bring the richies to scare the shirts off of when she rolls out her magic tricks. I suspect there's something to the place that enhances their meager power, but I couldn't say for certain until I heard they were going there tonight. Why bother making the drive if they could try summoning Lucien from just anywhere?"
I filed that bit of information away. Raina hadn't lied yet, but she knew more about Sonia's pastimes than she let on. "When?"
"How should I know? I suspect they'll wait until the moon's zenith, isn't that the kind of thing you supernatural types would find useful?"
I choked back a laugh. She wasn't wrong. Fortunately, the sun had not long gone to its rest behind the horizon. We had time. Time I should use to alert the others, to prepare an offense as a group. Memories of DeShawn watching Seamus from the balcony came back to me, Roisin's quiet worries tickling my thoughts. I trusted her instincts more than Talia's, and to alert the house now would be to alert DeShawn's people.
"Talia, can you get a private message to Seamus?"
She whipped out her phone. "What is it?"
"Tell him where we're going, and to keep it quiet. And, if she's available, send Roisin to the location. Don't draw too much attention to things."
"On it," she said, thumb flying across the screen.
"Raina, do you have a car?"
She blinked owlishly. "Not here, no, but I have quite a few I could call—"
"Mr. Heywood is waiting out front," Talia cut in. "He brought us here."
My heart sank. "Basil works for the guard, Talia. He has loyalties to Emeline."
She shifted her weight and fidgeted with the loop hanging from her phone. "Not exactly. Adelia told him to answer to you, remember? He does. He'll do what you ask, no questions."
I didn't deserve such loyalty. The very thought of it weighed me down, chained me to the spot. I was a soldier, meant to be used—dispatched and ordered. I wasn't meant to give orders, to take command. To take command was to take responsibility for the lives of those you commanded, and I did not have the fortitude for such things.
A sheath of clouds moved across the night sky, spilling a pool of moonlight climbing ever higher into the vault of the heavens through the bars across my window. U
ntil a few moments ago, I hadn't thought Talia had it in her to keep something so important from Emeline, but here we were. And the moon would not wait.
Silvery laughter, drifting through my veins...
I had no weapon, no sword, no jacket. I didn't even have shoes. The dark jeans and black t-shirt I wore were the only items given me in my little cell, my weapons locked away light-knew-where. There was no time to go hunting for them. I, as I was, would have to do.
"Let's not waste any more time then," I said.
Talia nodded, firm, the key to my cell door clutched in her hand so that it stuck up between her knuckles like a claw. Talia thought I'd be enough. And so, I would have to be.
Fourteen: A Storm About to Break
Basil brought the car around to the main road with sedate care, giving no sign of the desperation of his passengers until he was well out of sight of DeShawn's patrols. Then his tight leather gloves creaked as he gripped the wheel, and the massive car burst forward, eating up the ground and spewing dirt out behind it like a tail.
Talia, sitting next to me in the back seat, turned so she could show me a map on her tablet. A small green square criss-crossed with white paths took up the whole thing, a cluster of large stones in the center.
"This is the garden, as far as we know. It's not a real map, just a quick sketch-up based on Raina's memory of the place, so things may have changed."
I took the tablet from her and studied the map. The collection of stones bothered me, something about them echoed in the dusty halls of my memory. I'd never been one for magics, but I'd been around them enough to know a ritual field when I saw one. The layout was close enough to the carved sigil the Venefica had used to make me uncomfortable, but it wasn't exact.
"When were you last there?" I asked Raina.
"Two months ago. Plenty of time to have changed things around, I'm afraid, but she's been having get-togethers there every so often and, so far as the scuttlebutt's concerned, she hasn't changed a thing. The trees are taller and the flowers have dropped their petals for autumn. That's the only difference."
"What kind of stones are these?"
"I'm no geologist. They're pale, I guess. Not like something you'd make a building out of, more like a kitchen counter. Maybe marble? Honestly, I have no idea. They were cold and mostly white, the side surfaces all broken up but the tops were polished. I figured they were just a touch of theatrics, so I didn't pay much attention to them."
Marble, I thought, remembering the black veins seeping up my arms from the place I'd touched the plinth. White marble must be sacred to Luna in some way I didn't yet understand. Maybe I didn't need to understand—maybe the stone was an aspect of hers, like the metals.
I wondered if Sonia had outfitted the place with silver and made a mental note to be wary of touching any metal I came across. If Luna had claimed marble, maybe the sun had a stone of its own, too. I would have to ask Emeline if there was any mention in her archives.
"Can we pick up a weapon before approaching the garden?"
Raina guffawed. "A weapon? Like a gun? This isn't America, you know. You can't just pop down to the shops and pick up a pistol."
I clenched my jaw. "I am walking into this garden unarmed. I will take anything—a knife, a sword, a... I don't know, a large stick?"
"She has a point," Talia said. "I hadn't thought about weapons. I don't even know where Emeline keeps such things."
"There's a shotgun in the boot, ma'am," Basil said.
I waited for Talia to say something, but her eyes were wide as a doe's who'd lost her fawn.
"A shotgun?" I asked, stupidly.
"Yes, ma'am. Put it back there when we were moving the unconscious sunstriders to the estate. Just to be safe, you understand. Inspector Culver was kind enough to loan it to me. Hasn't asked for it back. There's a stash of gold-enhanced shot, too. Birdshot, I think it is, but truth be I don't know much about those kinds of things."
I tried to make the mental image of kind, patient Basil asking DeShawn for a shotgun line up in my head, and gave up. It occurred to me then that I knew nothing of Basil outside of his work for the Sun Guard. Adelia had trusted him implicitly—she would not have instructed him to be my driver otherwise—but the reasons for that trust might have died with her. Emeline, for all her involvement in the order, had her nose closer to books than to people.
Those questions would have to wait. Following Ben's instructions, I folded down the center panel of the back seat and peered into the boot. It took some careful maneuvering to reach the shotgun, strapped down carefully as it was. Soon I had the weapon in my hands, the ammo packs stacked next to me on the seat as I explored the massive weapon—checking the safety first, as DeShawn had taught me.
My experience with firearms thus far had only been in using handguns, but this weapon was closer in look and style to those that had existed during my day. I'd avoid using it, for the wide spray lacked the precision I craved when mortals were close to hand, but just having something to defend myself with outside of my claws helped me to focus. A back strap had been included with the gun's kit, so I slung it over my shoulders and leaned forward so that the weapon would not press into the back cushion.
"Thank God for tinted windows," Raina said. Talia let out a nervous giggle.
"We're almost there," Basil said. "Shall I cut around to a more discreet entrance point?"
I craned my neck forward to get a better look. We were not yet in London proper, I didn't think. Though the maze of suburbs surrounding the city made my head spin. I had a certain second sense for when I was on the soil of my city—and this wasn't it. Not yet.
This was a borderline place, difficult to hide in. Manor houses, much like the Durfort-Civrac home, dotted field and forest both, anchoring the ends of winding private drives, their faces hidden behind walls of steel, stone, and botany. The house we approached was no different. Faced in white siding, it stuck out as modern construction, a transplant amongst all the stately grand homes of the area, but construction side, the land itself was ancient. It was the land that mattered.
Massive English oak trees anchored the soil, their roots reaching deep into the earth, brushing the bedrock as their massive canopies scraped at the sky, casting the ground in shadow even during the light of day. Trees should not be my friends, but I had always found them comforting. The way they filtered sunlight through their leaves in dappled patches was soothing. But not these trees.
These were shields against the day, even my magic-blunt senses could tease out a hint of the power thrumming through them. Silver moonlight stroked the lush green leaves, making them wink in the dark. Nothing grew beneath their shadows. Whatever paltry tricks Sonia and her hedgewitches got up to, she had stumbled across a place of real power here. My skin prickled.
"I'll go on foot from here. There are wards in this place, ancient ones, and it will be easier to slip their notice on my own."
Talia clutched my arm as I reached for the door handle, fingers digging into the muscle. "What can we do? You can't just go in there alone without backup. You can't even contact us if something goes wrong."
"I have an idea," Raina said. "Sonia and I have been dancing around each other for a while now, she knows I'm onto her little tricks. And now she knows I was at the very least aware of Lucien, and this place is no secret in our circles. She'd been inviting me out here once a week for her parlor games. It wouldn't been too unusual if I were to show up and say hello. A little distraction, if you will. Get her flustered."
"No," I said, "I will not risk any more mortals in this game. This is between Ragnar and myself."
"Dear," Raina drawled, "you're not the one calling the shots here, and as much as Talia has faith in you, I don't think you can go it alone. And anyway, I'm curious. You can let us help, or you can deal with it when we do so anyway. Your call there, I suppose."
"Talia..."
She squeezed my arm. "We're going in."
"Fine." I gritted my teeth. "But when the violenc
e starts, you hide. Understood?"
Talia nodded. "Don't need to tell me twice."
"Good. Be careful. You too, Ben. We don't know what's waiting for us tonight."
"I will, ma'am."
I slipped out of the car and braced my feet against the pavement. A sense of connection spread between the hard earth and my bare soles. Power bloomed in this place, electric on the air like a lightning storm swirling, preparing to break across the world. Those trees were rods to draw the power, inviting wild strength. The shadows seemed thicker around the house at the end of the drive, clinging to the eaves as if they had weight, viscosity, in the same way they'd clung to Lucien.
I breathed deep of the air, willing my dormant ancestry to warn me if the Venefica had her hand in this, if that most ancient of sorceresses lurked for me beyond the wall of trees. Nothing. No hint she roamed the world, but there was power on the air—metallic and crackling, not the oceanic hint of the Venefica's power. That witch was dead. I dealt with other powers now.
The tires of the car crunched over gravel as it turned down Sonia's drive. I slipped into the shadows of the trees.
Fifteen: The Age of Stones
The darkness welcomed me, though I wished it wouldn't. It folded me into its embrace as gently as the sunshine in the rose garden, hinting that if I let it in—if I only embraced its power—it could soothe me. Could heal the wound puckered and aching on my shoulder. Bitterly, I hoped that bite mark scarred. I hoped it left my skin looking shredded purple-dark, a mark to all that I'd rejected the poison Lucien's mouth dealt. In the shadows, it didn't look like anything at all, just a web of slightly darker skin peeking out from the hem of my shirt sleeve.
Best not to think of a web of anything dark against my skin.
Sonia hadn't bothered with fences or walls, or any of the more practical methods of deterring entrance. The power inherent in the land was enough to steer away curious eyes. Mortals, even those without affinity for magic, would find the place foreboding. A place of ill luck, or perhaps haunted by old ghosts. The land, positioned as it was, should have been snapped up ages ago, some old family plunking down a monster of a house that would have lived through until today. Instead, no one had wanted to live here, and I suspected Sonia paid very much under market value for the parcel.
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