Blood Kin: A Novel of the Half-Light City

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Blood Kin: A Novel of the Half-Light City Page 26

by M. J. Scott


  So time to focus on what I could talk about. Starting with what had happened at the Gilt. “I still don’t understand why Henri and Antoine came after us last night,” I said. “We hadn’t done anything to provoke them. It seems like a big risk for them to start something in so public a place.”

  “Unless somebody is making it worth their while to do so,” Guy said. “Someone with cash.”

  “Ignatius.” Or whoever was funding him. “But why would Ignatius be attacking the Templars? If we could prove it, the Veiled Queen would end him.”

  “Maybe he does share Lucius’ politics after all. Anyway, we have no proof.”

  “Someone is behind the attacks on your squads,” I said. “And it seems far more likely that it’s a group of young Beasts like Henri and Antoine than one of the alphas. The younger ones have far less to lose.”

  “And far more to gain,” Guy said. “If I was Ignatius—or whoever might be behind this—I’d use people like them as well. Young men can be easily led into stupidity.” His words sounded bitter, as if they were cutting too close to something in his own past.

  But he spoke the truth. And it wasn’t just young men who could do stupid things. Women were just as susceptible. My mother had taught me that. Even Cormen . . . he was young by Fae standards. From a less prominent branch of the sa’Inviels. Arrogant. Another with much to gain perhaps.

  “All right,” I said. “So we need to find out more about Henri and Antoine. We have to go to Halcyon tonight. We can start there. If we don’t find anything, then we’ll look elsewhere. Fen will be able to find out more about their habits for us.” Starting with whether they’d both survived last night. I’d ask him when we returned to the Swallow. He was probably itching to stick his nose into my business by now anyway.

  “And speaking of Fen,” I added, “I think we should bring him with us to Halcyon.”

  “Why?”

  “Three is better than two,” I said. “And he’s not without his own talents.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  HOLLY

  The dress made only the faintest pretence of having sleeves. In reality, they were two wide straps with the tiniest of ruffles along the edges. My neck and shoulders and décolletage were on display for the world to see, though I did have the, for once, comforting weight of my father’s chain obscuring a little of the view.

  Not that the chain would be any protection against a vampire. But by proclaiming me a Fae by-blow who had at least some notice from her sire, it had always given any Blood tempted in my direction cause to stop and reconsider their choice.

  I had enough to worry about tonight without having to fight off unwanted advances from vampires.

  Now if only I could come up with something that would ward off Henri or Antoine or any of their friends.

  To complete the requisite Blood Assembly “dinner is served” ensemble, I had pulled my hair up and glamoured it a brown near enough to black. Out of some small sense of rebellion, I’d left one bronze streak at the front.

  Guy had donned evening clothes again, though this time his shirt—hastily procured by Fen—was black, not white. He looked ominous.

  I liked the effect. Ominous would keep everyone at bay.

  Fen was waiting for us as we came downstairs. Unusually there was no bottle of brandy within reach. Instead he was drumming his fingers against the mahogany surface of the long bar, earning himself a look of displeasure from Mr. Figg.

  Like Guy, he wore all black, his hair tamed into some semblance of civility with a black satin ribbon that matched the trim of his velvet frock coat. The only color came from the deep green jewel winking from his cravat.

  He gave me an assessing glance and a small nod. I lifted an eyebrow. I didn’t need him to approve my dress. Reggie had a faultless eye. I looked like sin poured into black satin and jet. Just what the Blood liked best. The problem was going to be convincing them that I was for display only. No touching. That was where Guy and Fen came in.

  I didn’t like looking as though I were offering myself up on a platter, but anything more conservative would make me stand out at an Assembly. And the last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself. A good spy knows how to blend in.

  “Evening,” Guy said to Fen. They nodded at each other but neither made any further attempt at conversation. We’d said everything that needed to be said earlier when Guy and I had returned from Gillygate. Each of us had one of the alert charms sewn into an accessible spot on our clothes—easier for Guy and Fen than for me—and my evening bag was loaded with several other charms just in case.

  I had a cutthroat strapped to one thigh where I could get to it through Reggie’s strategically placed pocket. It wasn’t my usual silver—that wouldn’t be allowed into the Assembly—but deadly honed steel would do the job as well. Guy and Fen, I assumed, had their own weapons.

  In short, we were as ready as we would ever be.

  Fen had secured a carriage, and the journey was completed in short order. Halcyon was in Lesangre, only two boroughs over from Brightown. A short distance, but now we were truly in Night World territory and all the rules changed.

  Here we were fair game if we let a vampire play with us. We could be killed and no one would be able to do anything to the one who did so. Of course, that meant we could do our own killing if necessary as well. If anyone objected to a vampire trying to snack from them, then they were within their rights to defend themselves.

  It didn’t happen very often, though. Mostly because the sort of people who came to the Assemblies wanted to be snacked on, or wanted the exotic thrill of sex with a Beast or Blood, or, worst of all, wanted to drink vampire blood and know the ecstasy it could bring. They were unlikely to object to getting their heart’s desire. But the other real reason was that vampires were pretty hard for humans to kill. Attack one and you were likely to end up dead if you weren’t very, very good.

  Even if you did manage to kill one of them, the Blood might try and avenge the death. So you had to be willing to stick to the human boroughs and avoid going out after dark if you succeeded.

  The driver pulled the horses up with a jingle of harness and a stream of soothing words. They must have been fairly used to coming here, as they weren’t going crazy the way horses often did around Beasts and vampires. Instead the pair merely stamped their hooves now and then, ears flicking nervously in the direction of the flaming torches burning outside the massive metal gates guarding the Assembly.

  I pulled the invitation Adeline had sent from my evening bag. The elegant black card was enough to see us whisked ahead of the line and through the front doors with speed.

  Once we were inside, I took a moment to rearrange my skirts, fussing with them while I focused on bringing my breathing under control as much as possible. The Blood and the Beasts would be able to hear my hastened heartbeat and I didn’t want to seem too nervous.

  That would only serve to draw attention.

  I snapped my fan—one of Reggie’s flamboyant creations of black-dyed ostrich feathers, carved ebony, and silver and black glass beads—open and turned to Guy and Fen.

  “Remember the plan,” I said. We were here to find out as much as we could. About Ignatius. About Henri and Antoine. And, particularly, from my point of view, about Cormen. Fen nodded and turned on his heel, pushing into the crowd. Guy held out his arm, making it clear we would be staying together.

  I was perfectly happy to oblige him. I took another breath, as deep as I could in the cursed corset—even tighter than the one I’d worn under the bronze dress—and let him lead me into the main room.

  It was less crowded than normal. Obviously Ignatius was keeping his guest list select tonight. The smaller numbers made it easier to move through the room, scanning faces.

  “You know the rules, yes?” I asked Guy in a low voice. “The alcoves”—I tilted my fan toward the rows of small rooms whose doors lined two walls of the main room, illuminated by the ornate red privacy lamps hanging above their lintels—“a
re for sex or feeding. So don’t go into one unless you’re ready for one or the other. Or both,” I added. “We’ll try to get upstairs later. Lucius had his office up there and many of the Blood have private rooms. If Ignatius is holding court, it will be upstairs. But it’s too early for that. We want to stay here and mingle.”

  The main room was huge. On a normal night it held close to a thousand people, enjoying the spectacle, crowded around the small tables or pressed up against the many bars that plied them with liquor to lull inhibitions and dull nerves. The huge hexagonal dance floor was occupied tonight with rows of couples in all combinations of races working their way through the old-fashioned Blood Court dances.

  Damn. I hadn’t asked Guy if he knew how to dance. The dances were an excellent way to overhear useful information. And Cormen loved dancing. Most Fae did. Though in Cormen’s case, it was more to do with him being a vain bastard who wanted to display himself than any true love of music and movement.

  Beside me, Guy flexed his hands, then ran them down the front of his frock coat. “Define mingling.”

  “Talking. Dancing. No killing anyone,” I said, not entirely joking. Guy’s ability to keep his temper and not revert to warrior mode if something minor happened was going to be crucial.

  “I can do that,” he said dryly. Then his voice lowered. “As long as anyone doesn’t do anything to deserve killing.”

  “Just remember that this is their territory, their rules,” I said tightly. “Otherwise we’ll be the ones getting killed. Now, how about we actually act as though we’re here to enjoy ourselves?” I lifted a glass of champagne from the tray of a white-clad server and drank half of it in one gulp to calm my rising nerves.

  “Certainly.” Guy didn’t take a drink but he did bow to me and offer his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

  Apparently Templars could dance. Or at least, this one could. Perhaps he’d been taught before he’d become a knight, though his skills didn’t seem rusty. The small orchestra played a series of waltzes after the last set of court dances, and Guy partnered me expertly.

  Dancing with him was exhilarating, being whirled around in those strong arms, knowing that all I had to do was go where he led. Though I had a job to do, so I tried to keep my head and watched the other couples on the dance floor as we moved. I didn’t see Cormen anywhere. Or Henri or Antoine. Nor any of the Beasts who’d been at the Gilt with them last night, even though there were a reasonable number of young Beasts moving through the throng.

  Ignatius I didn’t expect to see. He’d be holed up somewhere above us letting those who wanted his good favor or support come to him in supplication. Enjoying disappointing most of them or wringing more out of them than they were willing to give if the stories I’d heard about him were true.

  After the third waltz, the orchestra took a break. Guy and I stepped off the dance floor.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  “More mingling,” I said. “It’s easy enough, you stand there looking big and gorgeous and that will distract people enough so they won’t notice me.”

  His eyes swept over me. “Anyone who doesn’t notice you in that dress is either blind or dead.”

  “Technically the Blood are dead.” Or had died, I supposed. They rose again after the Turn.

  “Yes, but they’re not blind. No one could fail to notice you, dressed that way.”

  “What way?” I bristled at his censoring tone.

  “Like a Nightseeker.”

  “That’s the point,” I said through a fake smile. “We’re blending in. Stop acting like a jealous lover. Or rather, stop talking like a Templar and pretend to be my lover. My lover would like this dress.”

  His scarred brow lifted. “Who said I didn’t like it? I just don’t like everyone else seeing you in it.”

  Heat swept over me with a rush. I fanned cool air toward my face. It didn’t help much. The whole room was too warm, heated by the hundreds of candles in lamps and chandeliers hung around the room and the crush of too many bodies.

  I tried to recall what it had been like up on the roof in the freezing wind in Seven Harbors, but it didn’t help. Not when Guy’s eyes were watching me, his expression dark and possessive.

  Concentrate on business.

  “That’s better,” I said, lowering the fan and summoning a smile. “Keep looking at me like that and no one will doubt we’re sleeping together.”

  He didn’t answer, simply held out his arm. We moved through the crowds, stopping to speak politely to those who greeted us.

  There were only a few Fae amongst those gathered here and no one I recognized. I started to doubt that we would find my father here, despite what Adeline had told us.

  If he was helping Ignatius in some way, surely he wouldn’t flaunt the connection?

  After half an hour or so of carefully navigated small talk and avoiding contact with any of the Blood, Guy steered us toward an empty table.

  “What is this achieving?” he asked as we sat down. “We’ve learned nothing.”

  “Not nothing,” I said. “You need to be patient. These things are never straightforward.”

  “Our men are dying out there,” he said.

  “Don’t you mean their men?” I frowned at him. Now wasn’t the time for slipping. “I understand, Guy, but we need to do this carefully.” I pitched my voice low. “We can’t tip our hand to whoever might be involved. We need to get deeper in, and that takes time.”

  “What takes time?” Fen asked, suddenly appearing at the table. His hair looked rumpled and his tie was somewhat askew.

  “What have you been doing?” I said, arching my eyebrow.

  “Information gathering,” he said shortly. “No sign of your— Cormen,” he amended. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not here somewhere.”

  “I haven’t seen many Fae at all,” I said.

  “That’s because most of them have more sense than to come to Blood Assemblies,” Fen said. He straightened his tie, his fingers moving sharply. The movement made his sleeve ride up, revealing the iron chain wrapped tight around his wrist.

  I frowned. Was he having visions? I tried to remember the last time I had seen Fen without his chain and failed. Which made me suddenly cold amid the heat. He’d told me once he saw more in times of trouble or uncertainty. Which described the City near perfectly right now.

  But this was hardly the place to discuss it with him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what he was seeing for a start.

  What had we been talking about? Fae. Yes. “We’re not interested in the ones who have more sense,” I pointed out. “We’re trying to figure out who’s pulling whose strings, remember?”

  “I remember,” Fen said. “That’s why I’ve spent way too much time in one of those stinking alcoves with a serving girl, charming a list of the Fae who are here tonight out of her.”

  “And?”

  He rattled off a list of names. None of them from my father’s Family. Frustration tightened my throat. The problem was that I didn’t know enough about the Veiled Court. I was sure there were clues in that list of names, but I couldn’t spot them. “Do they mean anything to you?”

  “They’re mostly from minor branches,” Fen said. “As one would expect. We need an insider. We should be poking around in Summerdale.”

  “No.” I wasn’t going to have this argument again. “No going to the Veiled Court.” Not unless we absolutely had to.

  For one thing, as hai-salai, Fen and I could be pulled into a world of family obligations and duties from which we might never escape if we let anyone from either of our fathers’ families gain a hold over us. And for another, the Veiled Court itself was perilous, if the tales are to be believed. Much safer to deal with the Blood here in the City than the Fae in the seat of their power.

  The Fae guarded their lands ruthlessly. It was difficult to gain admittance to Summerdale, let alone the Veiled World beneath its hills. The Fae could hide themselves, disguise themselves, and make the very earth change aro
und you to confuse, trap, or kill you. And that was before you started to deal with their politics and their impossible-to-untangle webs of Families and obligation.

  “Well, unless Cormen is going to make a late appearance, I suggest we turn our attention to other things,” Fen said.

  “It’s early yet,” I pointed out.

  “Or he may be upstairs already,” Fen added.

  “I don’t suppose your serving girl was forthcoming about who is controlling access to the upper levels tonight?” I said.

  “No.”

  Of course not. Luck couldn’t be with me tonight. I needed to think.

  “If we’re settling in for a long evening, then I’m getting a drink,” Fen said. “Anyone else?”

  I considered asking for lemonade but doubted they served any such thing here. “Champagne,” I said eventually, hoping that a little alcohol might take the edge off the frustration building in my gut. Guy asked for whiskey and Fen went to fetch the drinks.

  Over the next hour we drank enough to keep up appearances and Guy and Fen both danced with me, but my father still didn’t arrive. More people joined the festivities, making the room grow warmer as the press of bodies—human and Blood and Beasts—warmed the air.

  But amongst the myriad faces and conversations I didn’t see or hear anyone or anything useful to our cause. Leaving me with a growing sense of unease that not even Guy’s arms around me as we danced could dispel.

  Eventually, feeling the need to do something before I started screaming in frustration, I excused myself from our table, on the pretence of going to the retiring room. I moved restlessly through the crowd, trying to work out my next move.

  Soon enough I reached the staircase to the upper levels. I drifted past, acted uninterested. How hard would it be to slip upstairs? I had one of my freshly made invisibility charms in my bag. With so few Fae in the crowd, it would almost certainly be safe to use.

  But that left the problem of the three male Blood guarding the mouth of the stairs. As I watched out of the corner of my eye, a human couple approached the three and were firmly rebuffed.

 

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