Between Family
The City Between: Book Nine
W.R. Gingell
Copyright © 2021 by W.R. Gingell
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by Seedlings Design Studio
Created with Vellum
For you:
The one who’s just trying to keep their head above water.
I know you’re barely holding on today, but you’re going to make it and tomorrow is going to be bright and beautiful.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter One
Life has come to a pretty mess when you’re starting to get paranoid about why you’re still alive.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m glad I’m alive. I’d just like to know why.
I know, I know; that sounds weird. Let me explain.
The fae butler did it.
That probably doesn’t help much, but it’s flamin’ messy to know everything, and flamin’ messy to have to think about things, so bear with me. When you’ve been looking for your parents’ murderer for the last year with an owner who’s been looking for that same murderer for the last ten or fifteen years, and it ends up being the sneaky old fae butler who you got to love somehow even though he told you not to love him…
Like I said, it’s messy.
It sounds bad to say, but I think I could have forgiven the murders—not my parents, maybe, but the others—if it wasn’t for the horrible magnitude of it all: the murder of my parents; the murder of countless others; Athelas wriggling his way into my life and helping on the sly until I couldn’t help loving him despite his warnings; the final, dreadful betrayal of him murdering our human allies.
Oh yeah. And he tried to kill me, too.
That’s where things get particularly confusing, because it was hard to know why I was still alive when Athelas had told me outright that he was going to kill me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining about being alive, I just want to know why—and who it’s gunna help to have me still alive.
I want to know why I had to spend an entire day on the phone with any of my friends who were still alive—first, to make sure they were still alive, and then to make sure they knew enough to stay alive.
I want life to go back to what it was.
So yeah. The fae butler did it. And if that sounds too flippant for you, you’re just going to have to deal with it. Look, I never said my coping mechanisms were healthy. But if we’re going to talk about coping mechanisms, well, mine are pretty healthy compared with Zero’s. Zero is fae, too—technically speaking, my owner—and he’d spent the last three days in a furious welter of activity that ranged anywhere from savagely sharpening knives until three in the morning to conducting drills in the backyard that could have set the grass ablaze with the speed of them if he wasn’t actually exercising somewhere between this world and the world Behind.
I didn’t blame him; Athelas’ betrayal had been bad enough for me, and I’d only known him for about a year. Zero had known him since he was a kid and had trusted him absolutely. It wasn’t like he’d told Zero not to trust him, after all—he’d constantly warned me not to do so and I’d ignored it, like an idiot. I mean, what kind of normal person keeps warning you not to trust him? I should have realised how weird it was. I hadn’t been able to stop myself trusting him, because I could have sworn that I’d seen the real Athelas emerge more, day by day, and—
Forget it. Forget him.
Only I couldn’t, and that was the bit that tore shreds off my soul every time a thought of Athelas recurred. If only I could forget him, I could stop feeling the huge, gaping pain in my breastbone, the ache in my throat.
Zero was probably feeling something similar, so I could understand the flurry of activity. I’d thrown myself into cooking and cleaning; Zero had thrown himself into training. None of us had left the house, either, but that could have been because the house itself was being a bit protective these days. It wasn’t that we couldn’t get out, it was just that the house didn’t like it.
Still, maybe I should be encouraging Zero to get out a bit more. He’d shown more sign of emotion in the last three days than I’d seen from him in the last year, and I didn’t want to break him. It’s pretty hard on a bloke when you try to encourage him to stop stifling his emotions and then something like this happens.
What about the vampire? Well, JinYeong had mostly been making himself available as a sort of self-warming pillow ever since the house became protective and inclined to shut itself off from the outside world. All right, not so much the whole world as a part of the world. A very specific part—a very specific person—the King of Behind, in fact. It would have been nice to be able to catch a breath before the next shock, but it’s hard to do that when the flaming King of Behind wanders down your street, pinpoints your house, and gives you back a book you only remember losing when he gives it back to you.
A book that has your name written in it from one day when you weren’t as obedient as you ought to have been. It would have been nice to think it was just a kind of g’day, I’m the king, nice to meet you, here’s something that belongs to you. But he’d had my book; he had taken the trouble to find me and give it back to me. There was no way he didn’t know I was an heirling, too.
But if he did know that, why hadn’t the king tried to kill me?
I crossed my legs under me where I was sitting on the kitchen island bench in self defence against a living room that was still too…Athelasy to be comfortable sitting in. I said to the fae wall of furious polishing and bright knife points that was Zero, “It was a threat, right? Giving me the book was a threat.”
“Of course it was a threat,” he said briefly, testing the balance of a knife and laying it neatly next to the others. “What else would it be?”
“Dunno; but why threaten me when he could have killed me?”
Zero’s voice was cut glass. “He couldn’t have killed you. I’m surprised he could even see you.”
“Yeah, that might have been my fault,” I said, with a touch of gloom. “I saw him walking along the street, looking for something, and he stopped at our gate. I said hi first.”
“He shouldn’t have been able to find us in the first place,” Zero said. “That wasn’t your fault. He shouldn’t have known about you at all.”
“Yeah,” I said, my gloom deepening. “That actually probably was my fault. In my defence, he was in an alley reading a book and he told me he was a librarian.”
Zero’s eyes closed for a brief moment. “Pet—”
“That was the day I texted you to come get me,” I said, and added half-heartedly, “So you can’t say I didn’t tell you I was in trouble.”
“Pet—”
“Who is at fault is not the question,” said a voice impatiently, in Korean. Between, doing its usual, helpful best, translated the meaning directly into my mind. As it did so, a slender figure stepped up from the living room and into the kitchen and dining room, preceded by a waft of perfume.
JinYeong. Not my owner, like Zero, but just as much of a pain in the neck—and more, because he’s a vampire. Far too beautiful for his
own good, inclined to bite first and ask questions later—and apparently in love with me.
I didn’t say he was clever.
“This,” JinYeong tapped a finger on the book’s cover. It had been sitting on the coffee table until this morning, when someone had brought it into the kitchen and left it on the kitchen island. Probably Zero, to make a point. “This is a problem.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered, flipping open the cover-board as if to check that the name was still actually there, ready to give me a nasty case of the willies every time I saw it.
It was still there, all right. Still gave me a horrible chill to see it, too.
Ruth Walker.
It was a name that was never supposed to be written down—and given what I now knew about the world of humans and the world behind that, I found myself wishing it never had been written down.
A bit too late to say that now; I was the one who’d done written it down, after all.
It’s no good crying over spilt milk, but when you’re the one who’s done the spilling, is it okay to kick yourself in the shins retrospectively?
“How bad is it, the king knowing my name?”
“That depends,” said Zero, leaning his crossed forearms on the table and levelling a clear, blue gaze at me. “How much of an inconvenience is it for you to be whisked out of your bed, your house, and your world, and flung into an arena of the speaker’s choice to take part in a duel to the death?”
“Heck, it’s that bad?” I shivered and slipped down from the kitchen island. I might as well make pancakes and hang over the warmth of the skillet to try and get rid of the chill under my skin that kept raising goosebumps.
When I’d gotten all the ingredients together into my mixing bowl, I asked tentatively, “It’s not all bad, though, right? It’s not like that’s my whole name, and the last name isn’t even right—well, it’s not what’s on my birth certificate, anyway.”
JinYeong, far warmer than a bloke who is historically supposed to be dead ought to be, stretched out his torso sinuously across the kitchen island to rest one warm hand against the arm with which I was holding the mixing bowl in place.
“It depends on who you got your magic through,” Zero said. “If it was your mother, taking her maiden name has put you in a lot of danger. If it was your father, you’re a single step closer to safety. What do you mean, it’s not your whole name?”
“Western humans have three names, Hyeong,” JinYeong said, looking lazily over his shoulder at Zero.
I found that I’d relaxed more to the side that was warmest and straightened myself, but JinYeong’s hand moved with me, still warm and present. To Zero I said, “Hang on, how’d you know I took mum’s maiden name?”
“I don’t have time to play games with you, Pet,” he said, instead of answering. “Even Behind, we’re aware of surnames.”
“Oi!” I protested. “I’m not playing games, I’m—”
“You have a name,” said JinYeong. “So I will call you by it.”
I gave him a bit of a look. “I didn’t say you could do that.”
“You are not my pet,” JinYeong said. He seemed faintly offended. “I should call you by your name. You did not put me in the contract, so I am just a person.”
There were so many replies I could have made to that, but there was only space in my suddenly shattered mind for one thought.
That thought was, Heck.
“Oi,” I said, my throat dry. “Reckon the contract is why I’m still alive?”
I saw the almost pained expression that flitted across Zero’s face, and the one of profound weariness that crossed it immediately after.
Very slowly, he said, “I had forgotten to consider the contract.”
“Me too,” I said. What with the king visiting and making sure everyone else in my life wasn’t dead, it had been hard to spare a thought for anything else. “Reckon it’s why Athelas couldn’t finish off the job? He was contracted not to hurt me but he did? But if it’s that, how much of it is still gunna keep me tied to him? Can he still get at me through it?”
“He broke the contract,” Zero said, after a brief, almost frenzied moment of thought. With relief, he sat back again and explained, “Athelas broke the contract by attempting to kill you; it no longer has any hold over you. We can be thankful for that, at least. As you said, I shouldn’t wonder if that’s the thing that kept you alive by the skin of your teeth: he tried to break it and it protected you.”
“The old man keeps making mistakes these days,” JinYeong said thoughtfully. “I wonder how many of them he regrets?”
“I’m gunna make sure he regrets this one, at least,” I said, my chin firming.
“We have to find him first,” said Zero.
I stared at him. “You’re gunna try to find him?”
Heck. That was a bad idea. Zero enraged by loss and bent on finding a nameless murderer was bad enough; Zero enraged and broken by betrayal in equal measure, bent on finding a known murderer, was downright scary.
“I’m not going to let him get away because he’s Athelas,” he said. “And I’m certainly not going to let him return comfortably to my father with his hand out for a prize.”
JinYeong lifted one brow at him. “You think it will be comfortable? I do not think so.”
“No, I suppose not,” Zero said. “Especially once my father finds out that Pet isn’t dead.”
“Ruth is not dead,” JinYeong said coldly. “She is alive. There is no pet.”
My name coming from his lips sent a spike of something very like panic through me. Was that part of the magic mum had spoken around me when I was younger, too? Sheer terror at having someone say my name so that I would never tell it to anyone?
Shaken, I said, “That’s not how you pronounce it,” because I couldn’t think of how else to express the deeply personal feeling of someone saying my name. Heck, maybe it was because it was JinYeong saying it. I didn’t know. I didn’t even know exactly what it was I was feeling.
Perhaps fortunately, someone knocked on the door. It wasn’t a knock on the front door; it was a knock on the linen closet door. And I say someone, but we were all pretty well aware of who it would be. Palomena, Enforcer to the king and informant to Zero’s dad by proxy.
“Don’t let her in,” Zero said, with the faintest edge of exasperation to his voice. Apart from JinYeong, I don’t often get to see people other than myself wringing emotions from Zero, and it might have been fun to see if it wasn’t for our current situation.
It sounds like we don’t like Palomena, but that wouldn’t be true: we just don’t like who she represents. Whichever way you look at it, she represents either the King Behind or Zero’s dad, and neither of those two options are even slightly appealing to us. She might be a nice person, all told—at least, for behindkind fae—but she was still on the wrong side of the world when it came to being an Heirling.
“I will get it,” said JinYeong anyway, slipping from his seat and retreating to the hallway toward the back of the house, taking my warmth with him.
A moment later, I heard the linen closet door open and an unusually heavy tread cross the threshold that didn’t sound remotely like the light-footed fae we usually had come to visit. Heck, what now?
But when the visitor appeared, it was certainly Palomena, her oiled braids sleek and tidy, stepping up into the room with a weariness I hadn’t seen from her before. Her uniform was neat and orderly, and she smiled at me first like she always did, which was all nice and normal, but she wasn’t walking properly. The sleeve of her uniform was getting darker as I watched, too—or maybe it was just that the dark patch was growing bigger. Zero stood up abruptly at the far end of the room just as I saw the trail of blue blood that escaped the cuff of her sleeve and dripped freely to the floor.
“Heck!” I said, my stomach lurching. I dropped the mixing bowl and grabbed a fresh tea towel, wetting it slightly at the sink. Over my shoulder, I demanded, “Who did that to you?”
“That’s unfortunate,” Palomena said, with a short sigh, catching sight of the mess she’d made. She stripped off her uniform jacket and set it carefully on the back of one of the chairs, then rolled up the sleeve of that arm in quick, irritated movements. “I apologise for the mess.”
“Don’t worry about the mess,” I said, passing her the tea towel. “I’m more worried about your arm. That’s flamin’ deep.”
“It’s not so bad,” she said, sweeping the trails of blood upward and then settling the tea-towel over the worst of the gash and pressing down.
JinYeong’s eyebrow went up; he shot me a glance. I could only shrug, because I wasn’t Athelas, and it wasn’t like I could heal her. Zero came around the dining table toward Palomena, and JinYeong sank backwards until he was resting against the wall, his eyes dark and amused and watchful.
“Who did it?” asked Zero. “Did you come directly here? I know the rule that Enforcers shouldn’t be seen in a weakened state in the eyes of the populace, but stopping here for succour has a few too many undertones of trust, don’t you think?”
“I didn’t come here for succour,” Palomena said. Her voice sounded slightly dry, but maybe she was just in pain. The gash in her arm was pretty bad. “Nor did I come here directly; I do have a question, however. Perhaps the three of you can explain why unfriendly agents arrived at the humans’ prior headquarters at exactly the same moment as the Enforcers? There was some disagreement between us, and between one thing and another, the entire place caught fire.”
“It caught—” I stopped and said, “You mean the sorta fire that burns up shades and revenants and other stuff that isn’t quite dead or alive?”
Palomena’s lips curved slightly, though there was still a line of pain between her brows as she attended to her injury. “You know far too much.”
Between Family: The City Between: Book Nine Page 1
